#and now that he’s raised his voice at me im very much done with him for real | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dat-town · 2 months

Text

abcdlove

Characters: school radio club leader!Taesan & class president!female reader

Setting & genre: high school au, coming of age, first love, fluff, a hint of enemies to lovers but it’s only in the girl’s head

Summary: You convinced yourself that you hated Han Taesan after what he had done in sophomore year but now you have to work together on a senior project and maybe he isn’t that bad. Or maybe just for your heartbeat.

Warnings: stage names are used, OC has negative opinion about Taesan and Leehan in the beginning, mentions of social and parental pressure, the amount of banana milk consumed might not be healthy, hopefully not too ooc even though i wrote it within like 2 weeks after @restlessmaknae started sending me bonedo content

Words: 9.6k

Author’s note: this is the product of the amount of Ann Liang books i binge read recently, the instagram algorithm and @restlessmaknae’s marketing for Zico’s kids. this really pulled me out of my writing slump, so thank you for that! honestly my first impression of Taesan was that he looks like a tsundere, so that’s pretty much how it all started.

i'm pretty sure you guessed it; happy name day @restlessmaknae <3

read Leehan’s companion piece here

You had been following your well-planned route to success for years. You had already taken advanced courses at a prestigious hagwon, a private after-school academy for the subjects you totally needed to ace at CSAT. You also offered tutoring services to underclassmen, volunteered at the local library during summer and carefully chose your extracurriculars to align with the ideal student vision SKY universities had. You only needed to follow through the plan in your senior year too and you would be fine. You would finally make it.

Needless to say Han Taesan wasn’t part of your plans.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of the principal’s office where you were heading in all his 6 feet tall glory, his school uniform’s tie neatly done for once.

“What are you doing here?” You blurted out with no greeting when your steps slowly halted next to him, your jaw set and muscles tense.

Taesan turned his head slowly and looked at you impassively from under his dark fringe before speaking up in his raspy voice that made your classmates swoon whenever they heard him make a radio announcement.

“What does it look like?” He raised a brow as if he was telling you not to ask stupid things.

There could only be two kinds of reasons why somebody was called into the principal’s room: either very good or very bad. You had never gotten into trouble, so you were hoping for something positive but seeing the boy there wasn’t really promising. Not because he was a troublemaker or a bad student. He might not have been a straight A student like yourself but he was the leader of the school radio club and he was also generally liked among his peers as far as you knew. Your wariness was more so because you didn’t want to be associated with him in any way.

“Oh, both of you are already here. Wonderful! Come in, come in,” the office door opened and Principal Im rushed you inside with a welcoming smile.

At least, you could be sure by then that the news wasn't anything too bad.

You took a step to follow the man inside at the same time Taesan moved next to you as well which made you momentarily falter. However the boy merely reached out and put a hand onto the door’s edge to keep it from closing. You had to force yourself not to scoff at the fake gentleman-ish action and instead just duck under his arm to go inside the office.

You just sat down in one of the cushy chairs and smoothed out the lines of your school uniform skirt when you heard the door close and soon enough Taesan took the chair next to you.

“Alright, I won’t even waste your precious time since I know both of you are busy. I called the two of you here because as representatives of the senior classes, I would like the two of you to conduct interviews with your classmates and prepare a pre-recorded radio segment that can be broadcasted on graduation day. It can be about anything you want: what the students’ aspirations are or what they liked the best in high school. I trust you will do a great job,” the principal smiled at you hopefully but you could feel your own polite smile freeze onto your face. This was not how you imagined yourself spending the first term of senior year.

“But…”

“Yes, Y/N?” The principal looked at you expectantly and you could feel Taesan’s dark eyes on you as well which snapped you out of your confused stupor.

“Why the two of us?”

“Of course, you can get others to help too if you want but you have exceptional organizing skills as I heard and Taesan already has experience with our recording system and editing softwares. You two were the first ones we could think of, but of course I can’t force you…”

“It would be an honor, Principal Im,” you hurried to stop him there because there was no way you would have said no to a task like this. Not only because you could hardly say no anyways but also because it would look good on your resume. The only thing that bothered you was having to do it with a boy you could not stand. If you had that much time and you could do so, you would have gladly done it alone without his help but no matter how much you hated it, Principal Im was right: he had the skills to perfect a radio segment.

“Great! If you don’t have further questions, then good luck!”

“Okay, what about we meet after school to discuss the plans?” You asked immediately once you left the principal office because you had less than 5 minutes until first period and since you didn’t share a class with Taesan, you rarely ran into each other unplanned (thank god) and you would need your color-coded planner from your bag to plan any further than the afternoon.

“I have a radio club thing until 6,” Taesan simply said, not offering any alternatives, so you let out a sigh. Of course. What did you expect?

“And I have academy classes every other day,” you pointed out because he wasn’t the only one busy. “Then I can just email you your parts and we don’t need to–”

“So you can complain later that I’m freeloading off your hard work? No thanks,” the boy interrupted you and your gaze sharpened at him. He leaned casually against the corridor’s wall, a hand reaching up to loosen his tie and tilted his head at you as if to challenge you to protest. “We can make do during lunch hour.”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him that you had plans already but going over your History notes, when it was just the first week of the term and you were ahead of the course work anyway, wasn’t that necessary even though you hated giving in to his idea.

“Okay, let’s meet outside at the benches then,” you agreed, telling yourself to be the bigger person, and turned your back on the boy before he could see the frustration bubbling up in you.

You and Han Taesan had the kind of history that you didn’t really like to revisit. That’s why your initial reaction was to roll your eyes whenever you heard his voice on the school radio or to puke your guts out when girls gushed about his ‘tsundere charm’. Their words, not yours.

Actually you would have probably not cared about the guy if it wasn’t for your model student campaign which he had ruined. Last year the school had run an event to choose a student representative by voting and every candidate could have a pre-recorded segment on the radio. You had your own carefully recorded and edited audio file with the best convincing speech you could prepare and emailed them the sharing link on time just to hear yourself sing your go-to karaoke song through the radio on the big day. In panic, you ran to the school radio broadcasting station only to find Taesan sitting there by the control panel with headphones over his ears, calmly letting the audio play well past the two minutes mark, seemingly not finding it weird at all that somebody tried to win the campaign with a karaoke rendition of a love song instead of saying a few words. As it turned out, you managed to share your entire recordings folder with the radio team but the club president, instead of playing the file titled campaign_speech_final.mp3, decided that AUD_20230326_192251.mp3 was the right track for your model student image. That week you not only lost that title to the grade’s pretty boy, but you lost your pride as well and it was all Taesan’s fault. Not that he ever thought to apologize or right his wrongdoings. So no, you weren’t looking forward to working with him at all.

He was late.

You had already dotted down six different questions and a rough program outline with your half-finished, now cold rosé pasta lunch menu on the side by the time Taesan put his tray down on the outdoor table.

“You are late,” you picked at him right away which earned you a rather confused look.

“It’s still lunch hour,” he pointed out and dug into his own kimchi jjigae like he had all the time in the world. His behavior was seriously dancing on your nerves.

“Whatever. Let’s get into it,” you prompted because you didn’t have time to argue about semantics or his attitude. “We should divide the related tasks this week, finalize the questions and gather people for the interviews, then we can start on those next week.”

“What’s the rush? We have months until graduation,” Taesan questioned and while he was right (or because), you had the sudden urge to strangle him right there. You forced yourself to stay calm.

“Well, I don’t like to leave things to the last minute. Closer to graduation, we will be busy with the exams and college applications anyway.”

“As if you don’t already have everything prepared,” he muttered absentmindedly, scooping more kimchi on his spoon, eating without a care.

You pursed your lips, annoyed. You needed to remind yourself again that you had no time nor the energy to argue with him if you wanted to get this discussion done before your upcoming English class.

“Khm… so we can agree on splitting the interviews between us, right? You interview your classmates and I will do mine. We just need a common question sheet,” you said, tapping the end of your pen on the table.

Whether it was the repetitive sound or your words, it managed to get Taesan’s attention. He looked up from his food and leaned forward on his elbows, his dark eyes sharpening their focus on you.

“How would you record the interviews?” He asked, simply yet you had a feeling it was a tricky question.

“On my phone?” You furrowed your brows. Wasn’t it obvious? How else did he expect you to do it?

“That won’t be good. We would have a huge difference in audio quality. So unless you are fine with that, you need proper equipment. I can borrow a portable mic from the radio club, but I’m not trusting you with that.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened in disbelief but Taesan didn’t elaborate on his reason. Ridiculous. He was just looking for faults in your ideas.

You let out a huff of frustration.

“Are you that desperate that we work together?”

“It’s called professionalism, miss class president,” he taunted you, looking completely serious. “I don’t want to broadcast anything under my name that’s just ‘good enough’.”

“Do you now?” You snorted and rolled your eyes. As if it wasn’t him who played your singing for the entire school. Where was his professionalism then? Who was he to lecture you about it? But okay, you could be the bigger person if he was so freaking stubborn. “Fine. We can do the interviews together with your fancy mic. These are the initial questions I thought of.”

You slid your open notebook towards him with questions about what they used to dream of becoming as a kid, what they want to be now, what colleges and majors they considered as well as their most memorable moment at the school and what they would tell their younger selves or their underclassmen. Taesan furrowed his brows as he was reading through the draft, probably dissecting each of your questions like a poor lab rat but eventually didn’t say anything. You raised a brow at him when your eyes met and he just shrugged.

“Sounds good to me,” he said which didn’t really added value but at least he didn’t find something to pick on in everything you did.

The rest of the discussion went easier as it was obvious that he would be the editor and you would organize the interviews. You were already mentally preparing a survey to send out to the students via the group chats you usually used for class president duties to see when they would be free to conduct the interview among the slots you offered. Taesan wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the hectic and busy scheduling in the upcoming weeks but eventually agreed to get it over with within two months tops. He must have realized too that the earlier you finished with this project, the sooner the two of you could part ways.

You had the first batch of interviews at the end of next week. After ruling out inconvenient locations, you ended up with the obvious option: doing the recordings in the school radio clubroom. You were against it at first because the last time you had been there you faced public humiliation, whispers behind your back for weeks about your singing and messed up campaign, but objectively speaking you knew it was the most reasonable choice, so you bit the bullet.

You arrived ahead of time, of course, but you were quite surprised that Taesan was already there too, setting up who-knows-what on the professional equipment. He looked up when the door opened, the sun hitting the side of his face, giving it a natural warm glow, a stark contrast to the coldness he often radiated. He acknowledged your presence with a nod then went back to his work, so you just put your stuff down next to the round table in the middle of the room and got ready with your nicely printed questionnaire.

For the most part, the interviews went well, the students showed up more or less on time for their own slot, Taesan let you do the talking, merely letting you know when a recording started or ended. It all started going down when the last interviewee for the day didn’t show up. After five minutes passed, you texted Wonyoung asking politely whether she forgot the interview but she didn’t answer. Ten more minutes of awkward silence while Taesan was playing (or texting, you couldn’t tell) on his phone, you tried calling her but with no success. You started getting restless and frustrated.

“She could have at least told us if she wasn’t going to come,” you muttered more to yourself than anything when your next call went to the voicemail as well. It was such a waste of time just waiting.

“Why do you always assume the worst of people? Maybe something happened and she can’t make it. She could be too sick to care about you blowing up her KakaoTalk,” Taesan looked up from his phone and there was something in his eyes that made you feel like you were in the wrong, like you were a sulky child because generally it wasn't like you were always this pessimistic about people, but before you could have argued, Taesan sighed. “You can go. I can interview her if she shows up until 6.”

Well, you could have taken his word and left. Wonyoung was his classmate and he probably didn’t have anything better to do anyways. There was a set list of questions and not much to mess up. But just as he didn’t want you to handle his beloved mic alone, you didn’t want to leave it to him alone. So you just stubbornly held his gaze, trying to come up with a more profound reason when the clubroom’s door opened and Wonyoung stepped inside in the cheerleading squad’s PE clothes.

“Sorry. Practice got delayed. Thanks for waiting for me,” she panted and Taesan sent you a ‘told you so’ look which made you want to commit atrocities. You hated not being right and even more to be reminded of it.

“It’s okay. Catch your breath,” you turned to the girl with a reassuring smile but you were undeniably relieved when you could finally bid goodbye to her and pack up. It was getting late.

However, when you saw that Taesan was still saving the audio files and uploading them to your shared cloud folder, then putting away the recording device and the mic, you stalled around the door, feeling inconsiderate to leave earlier.

“Just go,” the boy muttered gently when he noticed your hesitation and you didn’t need to be told twice.

On your way to the bus stop, you stopped by at your favorite corner convenience store for some banana milk and almost missed your bus but luckily the driver saw you running and stopped.

“Thank you,” you bowed to the middle aged man who just mumbled something about youngsters these days, then tapped your transportation card against the sensor before looking for a place to sit.

Since it was past the rush hour, there were quite a few empty seats but there was one next to a familiar face close to the door. He had put on a hoodie over his uniform and had his head against the window, eyes closed but you would have easily recognized his long ass limbs everywhere. With the taste of your hurt pride still fresh on your tongue you walked past him, sitting down in the very back, only checking on Taesan a few times to see if he managed to wake up in time to get off at his stop.

Even without the interview project, senior year was busy. You felt like your days were piles of classes, homework, mock tests, real tests, tutoring and studying. Sometimes you memorized English vocabulary or dates for History class even during your lunch breaks or on bus rides because that way you could make the most out of your time. Some might have argued that you took it too seriously but if you wanted to get into the top universities of the country, you had to.

No wonder you spent the two hours you had between classes and tutoring on Friday in the library too, working on your Literature essay. It was kind of boring and you had a long week; you justified your frequent yawns and slow blinking. You didn’t even notice when you slipped into a dreamless sleep, not until you woke up with your head over your folded arms on the table.

As you were still in the haze, instead of panicking that you might have missed your tutoring class, you slowly blinked yourself back into consciousness and the first thing you saw was a pair of eyes.

The boy sitting at the table next to yours was looking at you with something akin to the mix of concern and amusement but you were too busy committing the lovely almond shape and chocolate brown shade of his eyes to your memory to be bothered by it.

Then the realization hit you like a truck because it was no other than Han freaking Taesan.

Oh, did he always have such pretty eyes?

Realizing that you were staring, you quickly turned your gaze away, sat up properly and fixed your messy hair while mentally reprimanding yourself for letting your sleepiness take too much control over you.

You hastily checked the time on your watch, sighing in relief that you only napped for about 15 minutes, so you still had time to finish what you were doing. Which was…? Ah, right, your essay.

You cleared your throat as you focused back on your homework, pretending not to be hyper aware of every chair creaking or pen against paper scribbling sound coming from the table on your left.

The next batch of interviews were scheduled a week later and you did everything in your power to avoid Taesan, hoping that he would forget that embarrassing little encounter you had in the library. Not like he was looking for you either but now that you have become more aware of his presence, you suddenly noticed him everywhere. He wasn’t just the subject of your classmates’ talks and an annoying voice from the radio anymore, he was in the canteen, on your regular bus, on the corridor between classes. Really, you wondered if it was your mind’s self-sabotaging doing or you just managed to ignore him previously. Since you tended to be laser focused on what to do, often walking by people you know without recognizing them, it wouldn’t have surprised you that much.

Still whenever you saw him, he was usually alone if not with juniors from the radio club, so you were a bit taken aback (and you weren’t sure you were hiding it well) when a bunch of his friends from his class were already in the clubroom by the time you got there. The door was left ajar, so you could hear Jungwon’s bubbly laughter and Gyuvin teasing Taesan for ‘working oh so diligently’. They all fell silent when you pushed the door open wider and suddenly their attention was on you. Leehan patted Taesan’s upper back with a grin and muttered something about ‘boss lady is here’ which earned him a glare.

“We will be on our best behavior,” Jungwon saluted with a promise when it turned out they booked the first three slots of the session on purpose, so they could sit through each other’s interviews. While you interviewed people by themselves, since the entire school would hear the edited version anyways, you supposed it couldn’t be a problem if they really did behave. They were friends after all, if they wanted to share them why not?

Them chuckling at some parts of each other’s answers or whisper-shouted hollering about future ambitions was a bit distracting but nothing seriously annoying. You could only hide your laugh with burying your face in your hands when Gyuvin recited a freshmen memory as his most memorable with a prank that ended with the four of them becoming friends. Apparently the day before the first term’s end, right on the edge of the summer holiday, Taesan had brought soap dispenser-shaped water guns into the PE changing rooms, so whenever somebody just tried to wash their hand, they got wet. It shouldn’t have been funny since it was rather childish, but glancing at the always stern and intimidating Taesan and seeing him smile at the memory turned it into something lovely even if it ended with the four of them arguing about whose was the best prank out of all the ones they did over the years.

It was truly one of a kind to see Taesan interact with his friends, people he felt comfortable around. He suddenly became talkative and loud yet warm and gentle when he scolded Gyuvin like an Asian mom for falling asleep at Miss Lee’s class again but promised to send him his notes once he got home.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged when he caught you red-handed watching him still after he literally pushed his friends out of the door.

Despite witnessing this side of him, if you wanted to be honest, it didn’t quite sit right with you that he was friends with Kim Leehan. The popular boy might not have ever rubbed salt into your wounds by reminding you that he was chosen as the model student representative of the school instead of you who was the grade’s academically best student, the defeat still hurt. You didn’t like to lose in general. So while you knew it was a far-stretched idea, your mind couldn’t stop coming up with scenarios to prove that Taesan sabotaged your campaign speech on purpose to help his friend and it made you irritable and restless during the rest of the interview sessions.

When you were finally alone, it made you blurt out:

“Was it a prank too?”

Taesan froze mid-movement when you spoke up. He was doing the finishing touches, getting ready to leave as it was just the two of you. He slid the headphones, which he used to make sure the recording quality was good, down around his neck.

“What?” He furrowed his brows, visibly confused and you weren’t surprised, he had probably long forgotten how he had humiliated you.

“My model student speech last year,” you said, your nails digging into your palms, bitterness sweeping into your features.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the boy claimed, firm in his standpoint which made you snort.

“Of course, you don’t,” you muttered, then grabbed your bag and walked out of the door before you would say something you would regret.

A part of you thought that Taesan would ignore you the way you ignored him, especially after your callout (or whatever he wanted to call it), so it took you aback when the opposite happened.

As a class president you often had to help the homeroom teacher. It was nothing out of the ordinary when he called you into the teachers’ room and gave you a box of university application help books to hand out in class. It wasn’t really heavy but there was no proper handle on the box, so you had to hold it against your chest and it made it hard to see the stairs in front of your feet as you walked up to the classroom.

Students came and went both ways around you, nobody really paying attention to you struggling not to fall and you let out a little sigh of relief when you reached the first landing of the staircase without tripping. You adjusted your grip on the big brown box and was about to go on when the box crashed into somebody’s chest… or more like, stomach.

“Sorry, I…”

You were about to apologize automatically when you saw Taesan standing in front of you, very clearly on purpose. However, before you could have told him to move out of your way, he did the unthinkable: he easily took the box out of your hands, his knuckles brushing against your open palms as he did so.

“Hey! Give it back!” You reached out for the box again once you snapped out of your stupor but the boy’s hold on it was too strong.

“Stop being so stubborn for once,” he said, his quiet, deep voice washing over you in waves and then you could barely do anything but watch him turn around and walk up the stairs with ease, the box in his hands and his bag thrown over one of his shoulders.

You shuffled after him a bit awkwardly, halfway torn between being grateful because out of all people in the school only him was considerate enough to offer help and being offended and angry because what if he only did so because he pitied you now that he knew that you still held grudges over what happened last year.

That became a smaller worry though as you realized he was heading straight towards your classroom and you didn’t even want to guess the rumors starting if even just one gossipy girl saw him help you. You grew more anxious the closer you got but Taesan’s steps halted right before he got to the door. You almost bumped into his back at the sudden pause.

“Here,” he turned to you with the box that you took gingerly, making sure you didn’t touch this time.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, actually meaning it but you couldn’t tell with Taesan’s low hum and light on his feet disappearance if he believed you or not.

The third week of interviews went without a glitch. You were almost done which also added to your good mood. One less thing to worry about, one less to-do during your already busy weeks.

Taesan stayed behind in the clubroom this time too, hunching over the computer setup with the headphones on like always but for the first time you said bye. Or well your version of it.

“Don’t stay too late,” you told him loud enough, so he could hear you through the headphones but turned on your heels before you could have seen his reaction.

It was a good day, you decided. You got praised by your Literature teacher for your essay on the themes of social class and Confucian values in your recent obligatory read. The interviews went smoothly and the corner CU had a 1+1 promotion for your favorite banana milk. You even caught the bus just in time, getting on the vehicle after two giggling students. It was busier now than usual because lots of students had to stay longer in preparation for the Freshmen Open Day.

Apologies falling from your lips, you made your way through the crowd in the front of the bus and looked for a seat in the back. That’s where you caught sight of Taesan with his bag on the seat next to him and when your eyes met, he pulled his stuff into his lap. You hesitated for a moment but that was pretty much the only place left and it would have been more awkward if you didn’t take it. So you dropped the ignoring act, swung your bag to your front and sat down, drumming with your fingers on your knees. The bus departed from the stop and took a turn, the silence between the two of you becoming louder than the chatter around you.

You unzipped your bag and pulled out the banana milk bottles you just bought and held one out towards Taesan. The boy turned his head towards you, his dark eyes unsure and… was that blush on his cheeks? Your hands touched when he took the bottle from you, sending little tingles over your skin.

“Wanna listen?” He held out one of the earbuds of his wired earphone that he always seemed to have with him. So old-fashioned, so cool.

You felt shy as you looked him in the eye because it was like sharing something intimate. Still, you took the audio device and put it inside your right ear, smiling as the unfamiliar beats of a slower western song played. You pierced through the lid of the banana milk with your straw and hid your smile behind your drink when you saw Taesan do the same.

Maybe you were just warming up to each other after weeks of working together but it gave you the push you needed to ask about what you were listening to and it started a whole monologue about the kind of music Taesan liked and how his father introduced it to him. Honestly, he listened to a lot of bands you heard of but couldn’t really associate songs with and quite a few you hadn’t even heard about. You didn’t mind though, you liked listening to him talk about it, watching him gesture and slur his words when he got excited. It was a lovely side of him.

The bus ride never felt so short.

That one conversation and shared banana milk somehow led to daily song recommendations from the boy. He was always curious about your opinion even if you didn’t like it. Soon enough he could guess pretty accurately if you would like a song or not, so he even created a Spotify playlist just for you that he updated frequently. This turn of events was surely unexpected but not at all bad.

You also got to know that he would have liked to study sound engineering in university and you told him about your own ambitions and why it was so important for you to have near perfect grades and all those achievements. Belatedly you realized that you had never told anybody how much impact it had on you that you were constantly compared to your cousins.

It was a new side of Taesan you got to know, a side he didn’t show to just anybody and you realized it was the same with you. You hated showing weakness in front of others, yet it wasn’t too bad to admit to him that you tended to be judgemental with people because nobody had really been patient with you either before labeling you this or that.

But texting over the phone was one thing, you weren’t sure it would change anything in person. Sure, you had been seen together due to the interview project but that would be over soon. Not to mention you really didn’t want to deal with high school gossip in your last school year. And yet, you couldn’t help but look for Taesan whenever you were in the school canteen or near his clubroom. You caught yourself anticipating the radio announcements just to hear his voice. It was pathetic really, how fast you went from finding it annoying and purposefully ignoring him to waiting to see him.

Your heart did a little somersault when you actually saw him in the library one afternoon and only when you walked closer did you notice that he wasn’t just leaning over his papers but he was sleeping soundly, his pencil still in his hand, his textbook getting wrinkled under his weight. Briefly you wondered whether you should have looked for another place since Taesan must have chosen this corner table far in the back to have some peace but you would have liked to believe that he wouldn’t have minded you joining. After all, he waved to you casually like you were friends when you ran into each other on the corridors earlier that day.

Eventually, you pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and quietly put your study material down. You squinted at the books and printed papers around Taesan recognizing them as advanced Maths exercises on trigonometry. While you were trying to see if it was a sheet you had already done, something else caught your eyes instead. The light reflected on the silver bands around Taesan’s index and ring fingers down to the similar thin, metal bracelet he wore. You had never noticed that he wore accessories but you had never really paid attention to what he was wearing either (except his unmade tie). Or maybe due to the long sleeved uniform you couldn’t even notice it but now that he had his sleeves rolled up and arms outstretched, you couldn’t help but notice how long and elegant fingers he had, unfairly nice for a guy.

Taesan suddenly exhaled sharply which made you act on impulse. You leaned back in your chair and looked down at your randomly opened book just in case he woke up. However, his quiet sleeping noises soon returned to normal, so you deemed it safe to look up. You let out a relieved sigh when you saw his eyes still closed, his eyelashes casting a light shadow over his cheekbones. Dark strands of hair fell softly over his eyes and you weren’t sure what came over you but maybe all those silly romance dramas were right when they thought girls couldn’t stop themselves from brushing a boy’s fringe out of his eyes just once in their life. But just as you reached out, Taesan straightened his back and yawned like a cat, stretching his arms towards the sky. He blinked himself awake slowly but he froze the moment he noticed you right in front of him.

To make the situation less awkward for both of you, you smiled at him as casually as you could (which wasn’t much thanks to your racing heartbeat but still, you tried) and turned to your book, flipping to the correct page you wanted to review. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Taesan fix his clothes and sit up properly before arranging his rumpled papers to continue the Maths exercises. He must have been stuck on a problem though because he kept sighing and going back to the same page in the workbook. After his sixth or so frustrated sound, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What are you stuck on? Maybe I can help,” you spoke up, closing your own book, so he would see your focus was on him.

“It’s fine,” he dismissed your offer so fast that you could tell he didn’t even think about it. You were sure because that was what you tended to do too: claiming you could handle everything on your own. But still, sometimes wasn’t it nice to receive help? Like how he had helped you with that box?

“Okay, then what about explaining it to me?” You changed your strategy because sometimes even that much could help: offering a listening ear. Maybe he could realize the mistake he was making in the equation while telling you about it.

You didn’t even think about it, you just stood up and walked to Taesan’s side of the table, sitting down next to him, leaning closer to see his scratchy handwriting and the calculations he had been doing. You might have blushed when you realized just how close you were but you refused to show it. You took studying seriously after all. So you looked the boy in the eye with a challenge in yours until he gave in.

Four minutes later he found the trigonometric identity he used incorrectly.

After sharing songs through texts and studying together at the library, the next thing that became a routine for the two of you was visiting the corner convenience store whenever you left the school together. When it first happened, Taesan claimed he needed to buy something too but he was looking around in the snack aisle suspiciously long (you missed your usual bus that day), so the next time you told him that you would catch up to him at the bus stop, he didn’t need to come with you. But more often than not, he went along with you anyways and ended up buying candies or chocolate bars. When you told Taesan about your go-to emotional support banana milk reminding you of your childhood, he told you that he wasn’t really into sweet things, so he bought all these snacks for his younger siblings. One time he bought a pack of four cream milk breads just for the freebie Pokémon toy that came with it because his little sister liked that character. It made you coo internally.

It wasn’t always just the two of you though. One day you were going over the English vocabulary with Jihan from your class in the library when Taesan and Jungwon walked in and took the desk next to you, eventually joining the English quiz. Another time Leehan needed to stay after school too because of his model student representative duties (a photoshoot for the Freshmen Open Day brochures apparently and suddenly you weren’t so sulky that you didn’t get the title) and he decided to tag along when he saw Taesan and you head over to the nearby CU.

“Ah, senior year is really hell. Everyone’s so busy we barely have time to hangout after school anymore,” he justified himself while throwing an arm around Taesan’s shoulder. “Jungwon told me you went to the library to study the other day. Since when do you do that? I thought you said being around so many people is distracting.”

You still heard Leehan’s voice as they disappeared into the snack aisle with the purpose of getting jellies and you walked forward to the refrigerated section, trying not to think too much into it. Maybe senior year changed Taesan’s mind, maybe he found the presence of others motivating now. Or maybe he just wanted to spend more time with you. The thought alone made you shy.

You were on schedule with the interviews and soon only the intro and outro as well as your own parts were missing. You wrote a script for the introduction and ending which Taesan improved with his experience of radio shows at school. You argued about whether your version with the ‘high school memories forever staying with you’ sentiment was too cringy or his ‘it’s only the beginning’ version was too vague but this time there was no harshness in your voice, there were no grudges held, it was only friendly banter as you went back and forth with arguments supporting your own ideas.

Eventually you managed to find a common ground, mentioning both the importance of keeping one’s high school memories as a reminder of their formative years and youth as well as being ready for what was coming. It was not even a question that it would be recorded by Taesan because he really had a nice voice and while you tried to stay professional and pay attention to his pronunciation and the flow of the speech rather than him, you failed miserably. Luckily, Taesan had enough radio experience to know exactly what to do. He introduced the segment with ease and charm, captivating the audience (you, for now) and you had to clear your throat to focus when he finished reading.

“We can start the interview with me,” you said, eager to get on with the tasks before Taesan could call you out on your behavior. He must have known your reason for the sudden change of attitude though because he smiled to himself, quiet but obvious about it, as he held the microphone out for you and hit record.

You knew all the questions by heart but still you waited for the boy to ask before you answered.

“When I was young, I wanted to have my own karaoke room. There was one on the basement floor in the building where I used to live and the owner auntie always gave me homemade honey biscuits. She seemed to be so joyful humming songs happily,” you said at the first question, glancing in Taesan’s direction briefly.

He must have been surprised – you were too –, because it wasn’t the model student-like answer everybody was expecting of you like saying your dream had always been to become a doctor or lawyer. Honestly, you had your own answers prepared and memorized ever since the questions for the student interviews were finalized and approved by your teachers. But looking back at it now, you felt embarrassed because even though it was just an interview, it wasn’t graded or judged, yet you had felt obligated to answer according to what other people would think of you. However, in the recent weeks as you got to know Taesan better, you realized that people would judge others without reason, without knowing them, even you. So you shouldn’t have changed your whole personality just so you would fit into this image they had of you. Even if it was about your parents’ or teachers’ expectation or your classmates calling you the teacher’s pet behind your back. You had been okay with the prejudices since high school was just one step in your foolproof plan to lead a successful life, you had been okay without building deep connections with other students because you had known that you would drift away after graduation anyways but only lately you realized that you could have had fun while also working hard. You could be yourself and let people closer. The world wasn’t going to crumble, it wouldn’t ruin your plans. You could be honest, both with yourself and others, because what was the worst thing that could happen? That they would judge you? They are doing it anyway, so it didn't matter.

“And now? Now I’m applying for business majors. I’ m not sure what exactly I would like to do with my life but I will get there. Who knows, maybe one day I will open a karaoke room, too,” you chuckled even though your ambitions were to build a bigger company, something creative and useful. You still had time to figure out the details.

In the beginning of the term you would have felt vulnerable sharing these about yourself in front of Taesan or the entire school because everybody expected you to know what you want to do with your life but now, it felt okay. You actually felt lighter, relieved. Especially because there was nothing akin to judging in Taesan’s eyes as he smiled at you from the other side of the table.

“Please tell us about your most memorable high school memory,” he recited the last question after you went over all the others.

Previously, you would have said it was being chosen as a class president because it was an honor and a proof of hard work but now, your academic achievements didn’t seem that important. What will you really remember when you will be older and think back on high school?

“Honestly, senior year so far has had some unexpected surprises, it’s hard to choose just one but maybe this one. Now,” you and me, just the two of us in the radio club room, being vulnerable yet not being judged. “I like the person I have been becoming ever since this senior interview project started and I think it's going to be a great memory one day.”

Silence embraced you as you finished talking, a bit nervous but without regrets. Taesan pressed a button and the recording stopped, ready to be saved.

“So karaoke room, huh?” He asked and you kicked his shin under the table for that teasing grin on his face.

“Your turn,” you reminded him as you passed the mic and adjusted the headphones around your ears. By then, over so many interviews you were sure Taesan knew what was coming too but just for the show you asked him about his dream job as a child versus now as well as his higher education plans.

“Becoming a musician was my childhood dream. My entire family loves music, many of us play an instrument, so it felt natural,” Taesan said and even though you didn’t know this, it wasn’t hard to imagine given his love for music and all that knowledge about genres and classics. “After I joined the radio club, I realized that I like it a lot despite the fact that here we don’t usually play music. So it would be cool to be a radio DJ on a music show one day but I’m interested in the technology behind it all, that’s why I will study sound engineering.”

You smiled to yourself because you had already known that latter part and it felt nice knowing you had come so far. After a few more answers, you got to the last question about his most memorable moment and Taesan’s feline eyes turned mischievous.

“Hm, a fierce girl yelling my head off during a live school radio radio–”

“Yah, be serious!” You interrupted him when you realized he was talking about what happened last year but your voice was more amused than scolding.

“I am serious,” Taesan claimed but there was a teasing tilt in his mouth. “It’s pretty memorable.”

“So you’re saying I was the only girl interrupting you during a broadcast? Shocking,” you raised a brow at him, a small part of you feeling triumphant about the fact that in a way you were special even if your first actual meeting didn’t have the best circumstances. Thank god that his microphone wasn’t on when you showed up and straight up started questioning him. “Also, just to clarify I wasn't yelling. I just expressed my bewilderment about why you were playing that audio.”

“That was the only one under your name.”

“What?” You blinked, confused at Taesan’s quick response. He sounded like he meant it but you knew that couldn’t have been true, they got access to your entire recording folder accidentally. So if he didn’t see that, it meant he wasn’t the one checking their emails.

“To make sure things are running smoothly, we always have a script about our broadcasts and all the audio files are organized in linear order in a folder for that day. I just played what was prepared for me,” he explained and gosh, you felt so stupid.

All this time you thought he had been the one who chose the wrong file on purpose maybe to help his friend, maybe to just have a good laugh but it made sense that his juniors were more likely the ones doing such preparatory work.

“But still, you could have stopped it instead of just letting it play,” you muttered, trying to justify your reaction.

“Well, at first I thought it was actually a pretty unique tactic and then…” Taesan scratched his nape and looked away, then shrugged as if he just convinced himself to tell you something that might be embarrassing. “To be honest, I just liked your singing.”

At his words you felt the tip of your ears burn and heat spreading all over your cheeks. You were glad that the lighting in the room hid it well.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You found yourself asking quietly because thinking back you weren’t exactly nice to him.

Taesan gave you a look. Okay, true, you didn’t really give him a chance to explain before antagonizing him. And then it must have been weird to just bring it up.

“Right. Um, sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed due to your too quick judgment but the boy just shook his head as if he had never been mad at the injustice in the first place. “About your answer though, you have to cut it out.”

Obviously with 60 people answering 6 questions, not everything would make it into the final cut, it would be more of a montage of answers, a glimpse of the seniors’ lives and you didn’t want to be reminded of that incident in front of the entire school. Not again.

“Nope,” Taesan protested, popping the ‘p’ sound, teasing just to be difficult.

“I’m deleting it,” you warned him but you seriously miscalculated several things: there was no way you could have reached the computer before him and with him standing in front of the monitor and keyboard you didn’t see anything. You tried to get hold of the mouse at the same time as looking over the boy’s shoulder but he made sure that he was always in the way which somehow turned into a one sided (struggle) wrestle match and honestly at that point you weren’t even trying to achieve anything and both of you just laughed at your poor attempts.

“Am I interrupting something?” Spoke up a newcomer you didn’t even notice. Sullyoon, another radio club member from the year, stood by the door visibly surprised to see you or well the current situation you were in: Taesan leaning against the desk in front of the computer and you pretty much plastered over him, trying to reach something behind his back.

“No!” You objected vehemently and took two steps back, stumbling a bit. Taesan reached out to steady you by the forearm and only after he made sure you wouldn’t fall did he turn to the girl from his club.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just forgot my buju here,” Sullyoon got over her surprise too and quickly retrieved the prettily decorated journal from one of the shelves. You watched her go and then buried your face in your hands because of embarrassment.

“Emotional support banana milk?” Taesan prompted after he saved the files and turned the computer off.

You smiled at him and followed him out closely. If you were any better off, you would have teased him about his flushed face but instead you just made him race you to the convenience store, so both of you would have an excuse if anyone asked about your red cheeks.

Now that all interviews were done, only the editing was left from the project and while you could have left it all to Taesan since he did the actual editing, you were there keeping him company all through it. First of all, you listened to all the raw material and decided which answers to include from each interviewee in the final cut and then you could help out when he needed a second opinion on the order or cut parts or whether the transition was smooth or not. When he was deep in the concentration mode, you just did homework or studied for upcoming tests. It took three sessions to finish it (you had to force Taesan to get his ass out of school during the second one because he was determined to finish it which past you would have appreciated but not even this project was worth losing proper meal schedule or sleep over it) and when you listened to the final version you were proud of what you had done, together.

“Should we celebrate?” You suggested once the file was sent to the principal and his secretary. You finished it pretty much on schedule and yet, you weren't as relieved as you thought you would be when you had first started it. But still, it was an achievement and you liked to celebrate small wins like this because if you didn't, who else would?

You meant it as in going out to eat something good. For example, in the tent restaurant two streets down the auntie was selling the best tteokbokki you had ever tried. But Taesan had his own idea.

“What about karaoke?”

“Yah! Stop teasing!” You glared at him but you weren't actually mad, it started to turn into a private joke between the two of you.

“I’m not!” The boy insisted and all it took was his almost pout to convince you.

There were karaoke rooms on pretty much every other street in this neighborhood, so it wasn't hard to find one where you booked a room for an hour and bought snacks and drinks at the counter from the girl who looked like a bored university student.

You usually went to sing with a small group of girls from your class, so it was the first time that it was just you and a boy. And not just any boy but Han Taesan. Somehow it felt more special. Sure, he might have already heard you sing and said that he liked it, but you were shy, so you insisted that he would pick a song first. He chose Dean's 21 and totally nailed it, the karaoke machine's high score proving that you weren't just biased when you told him that. You had already liked his speaking voice but when he sang, oh boy! You could have listened to him for hours.

You went with a girl group song you were confident in and it was fun. Song after song you both hyped each other up and the one hour passed by quickly. A part of you wished you could just pay for one more and sing until your voice became hoarse but the rational part knew that you shouldn't have stayed out too late. You still had homework to do and Taesan needed to memorize those English words for tomorrow's test.

It was the same T side of you that went a bit ahead of you and started thinking about the midterms and then how busy you would get once summer ended and the last term rolled around. It was still months away and yet, you wondered if it took that much for you to drift apart or the end of this interview project would be enough. You were a bit scared to know the answer, just how you were scared to answer Jihan's question the other day when she saw you walk to class together with Taesan. Admitting out loud that you liked him would have made it real and it would have made you vulnerable. You weren't sure you were ready to do that but it was certain that you didn't want to lose him.

“Taesan…” You spoke up quietly, swinging your feet back and forth on the bench in the bus stop after you spent the walk from the karaoke room to the stop in silence, lost in thought. The boy turned his head towards you, his fringe getting into his eyes, messy and beautiful. Your heart ached with the certainty only first love could. “Now that the radio segment is ready, will we go back to how we were?” You asked barely in a whisper as if speaking louder would have had its consequences. That was also why you had to rush to clarify. “Because I don’t want that. I… I would miss you too much.”

You didn’t mean to say it like that and it was a scary thing to admit but it was worth all the extra beats of your heart to see Taesan smile, a shy little thing stretching slowly from one side to another, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight and street lamps’ glow.

“Me too,” he said and you reciprocated his smile. There was a short pause, an inhale of the universe waiting, then Taesan called your name and you looked up immediately.

“Hm?”

He looked you in the eyes with those dark oceans of his. Once you associated them with the cold depth of the sea but since then you realized that you were wrong. You knew only a few people who had warmer souls than this boy.

“You are my most memorable high school memory for a reason,” he whispered like it was a secret and a promise at the same time.

It left you speechless a moment too long and the bubble around you burst when the bus pulled up in front of you with a loud screeching sound. Taesan was quick on his feet but instead of getting on the bus right away, he looked back at you and held a hand out for you. You blamed it on not having time to think about it with the bus driver yelling at you impatiently and took it, following the boy onto the vehicle and to your usual place in the back with a smile on your face and a new rhythm in your heart.

Taesan didn't let go of your hand during the entire ride. As you closed your eyes and listened to the music he put on, you hoped he wouldn’t let go for a long time.

#stories #boynextdoor x reader #taesan x reader #boynextdoor fluff #taesan fluff

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twinkletfout · 5 days

Text

— For The Heir —

The Gojo clan is a powerful one, and so is Gojo Satoru. You have been promised to marry Gojo since you two were a child. And that's how you got married to Gojo satoru due to the force of both your parents. But Gojo is the strongest sorcerer, he has other responsibilities that he needs to fulfil, because of that he barely visits you. And when he does, its for his own needs.

The house is built for you and your husband to live a happy ever after life, but you are leading a lonesome life in the very same house. Gojo has come unannounced again on the doorstep

“Long time no see, wifey” he said with a smirk on his face, his hands crossed over his chest.

“Do not call me that” you said it with much force and disgust on his face. Your eyebrows hardening at his cocky demure

He raised his eyebrows, looking at you with an amused expression as he took off his shades, looking directly at you. “Ah, you haven't changed at all, have you?”

You moved to the side to let him in. “It's rare for you to visit” you said with a slight mocking smile on your face.

“Can’t a husband visit his wife once in a while?” he said as he stepped inside the house, as he slid both of his hands in his pockets.

“Cut the act, Satoru” you said getting serious now as you closed the door behind him

He turned around to face you as he stepped closer, still maintaining a visible space between the both of you. His eyes darkening with a hint of annoyance “okay, fine, i'm here for a reason” he said

“Of course, I know you wouldn't be here for a reason, so spit it out,” you said, already getting exhausted by his presence. He let out a dramatic sigh as he said, "There's a meeting at the Gojo clan headquarters. They want you there. And before you start protesting, I already told them you would come.”

"what?" You said in disbelief "you just told them i would come without even asking me?” you asked as your eyebrows knitted with confusion

"Listen, I get it. You don't like being bossed around but like I said, there's a meeting, and your presence is required. I won't take no for an answer.” he said with no emotion flashing across his face, his eyes narrowing at you slightly.

“Im not coming” you simply said at his face. His expression darkened, a flicker of annoyance crossing over his face, "Oh, come on. Stop being so stubborn."

He stepped closer until he was just a few inches away, his voice low and firm. "You don't have a choice. The Gojo clan summons you, and as my wife, you can't refuse. So you're coming whether you like it or not.” he said making it crystal clear, you could feel his anger flaring up each second.

"you show up only when you need something, why do I have to obey your every single word?” you said, arguing back, finally raising your voice. His tone grew sharp as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe if you weren't so damn stubborn, I wouldn't have to be here, ordering you around."

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "But you are my wife, and the Gojo clan expects you to attend. So stop being difficult and just comply for once.”

You let out a heavy breath before yelling, "I am being difficult? You could've told me beforehand or at least asked me if I wanted to go! Why are you deciding everything??" He clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin at your constant defiance as he finally raised his voice "I'm not deciding everything, I'm doing what needs to be done. The meeting is important and I cannot have you causing any problems. So can you please just cooperate for once in your life?”

You took a step closer, as you held your head up high looking at his eyes "Have you ever cooperated in my life? Have you ever? tell me!” your voice broke a little as you yelled back

He clenched his jaw, his annoyance growing more apparent. The tension is growing heavy. "Use you? Is that what you think this is? I'm your husband, not some random person off the street. And if I remember correctly, this marriage was an arrangement, an obligation, not a love story."

He paused for a moment, his voice cold and detached. "I come here when I need to, and that's it. You're my wife, but at the end of the day, you're a tool for the Gojo clan” you shuddered at his words, his words sinking into you like knives, you couldn't say anything more, so much rage bubbled up inside you, but a hint of hurt flashed but before you can hold it back, tears welled up in your eyes. You turned your back at him, determined to not let him see that his words has affected you

He observed your reaction, the change in your expression not going unnoticed by him.

A flicker of guilt passed through his eyes, but he pushed it aside, his expression hardening again. He knew he had said those words to shut you up, but seeing you like this was, unexpectedly, harder than he thought.

"a love story? I'm well aware that this is anything but that” despite the argument, after it felt like an eternity we reached the gojo clan headquarters. As you both entered the clan headquarters, the other clan members greeted you both. You put on a polite smile, thanking them as you walked in.

Satoru, on the other hand, was noticeably distant. He nodded at the greeting, but his mind seemed elsewhere, probably still distracted by the events from earlier.

Eventually, the two of you were ushered into a large meeting room, where the other clan members were already seated around a large table. As you sat next to your so-called husband as the meeting went on.

One of the clan members turned to you and your husband as she asked. "So, how's married life treating the two of you?" one of his aunts asked, a polite smile on her face.

Satoru cleared his throat, glancing at you before answering. "It's... going well," he replied, his tone somewhat guarded. “Well, we called you here for a reason” she said, pointing to you with a smile, her face turning more serious.

“any news yet?” she asked. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the question. All she got as an answer was both of your complete silence. You looked slightly at gojo, but you could tell that he was nervous. She sighed before saying again “this is far more important than you think this is, Gojo” she said. Gojo straightened his posture as he said “yes, i know” he said it with so much annoyance. It felt like he already knew about this matter

“Its both of your responsibility to carry on the gojo bloodline, and to produce a powerful heir into this clan.” She said as the other members agreed, all you could do was nod but you were still in a bit of shock thinking about the current situation about your relationship.

As the meeting concluded, on the way home. You broke the silence asking him “are they serious?” You looked at him as you asked. “They are.” He confirmed as his eyes never left the road. “"No way, satoru. Whatever I did to please you and your family. This. I can't. You know how we are!” I said in so much frustration

He remained silent like he was caught between wanting to say something but didn't know what to say. “I know you don’t want this, and I don’t either,” he replied, his voice strained. “But they’re being relentless. They’re demanding an answer, and they won’t accept ‘no’ as an option.”

Before you could answer he said “we’ll take it slow” You could see the determination in his eyes as you looked over at him. “I know we have our problems but..” he let out a heavy sigh before continuing “it'll work out.” you were extremely mad at him now to not consider what you said. You never in your life thought about going through a relationship like this, you hated yourself for being in this situation.

You didn't know it was for improving the relationship you both had, Gojo has been coming home lately, you didn't comment on it. Of course it will only turn out into a big argument. Even though the conversation between the two of you was minimal it started to improve. He would come home and stay the night and leave the next morning.

Finally the weekend came, it was already past six, when you heard the doorbell you guessed it was gojo as you went to open it, he was dressed in a handsome turtle neck with a trench coat and black wide leg pants. “Get ready, we are going on a date” he said as soon as you opened the door.

Your eyes widened at his comment as you mumbled “what?” his eyes narrowed as he said, “you heard me” a small smirk tugging on his lips, “why now?” you said your eyes looking away searching for the clock to look at the time. “What do you mean? I can't show off my wife a little bit?” he teased as you looked back over at his face as you said “how sweet”

You decided to wear a dark red satin mini maxi dress, with crossed bandages over the back. When you came out of your room, you saw him leaning on the wall as he scrolled on his phone.

“How do I look?” You asked pretty nervously to get his attention actually, he looked over at you as he slid his phone in the side of his pocket. “Breathtaking” he said as he came over to you, his lips curving into a smirk as you raised your head to meet his eyes “i should take you out more often, hm?” you could feel your face heating up at his words. He gently slid his hands down your shoulder making you shiver as he took your hand in his hands “shall we go?”

It was only surprising that gojo engaged in a normal conversation with you, you could feel yourself enjoying this moment with him, how he tried not to get things awkward between the conversation and telling you a quick few jokes to earn a laugh from you. But a thought gnawed in the back of your head, that was he doing all of this just for you to give birth to his child. Or is actually enjoying the moment with you? You were confused.

You snapped back into reality when he asked “you okay?” You nodded your head, you were both heading out of the restaurant, his hands intertwined with yours.

Just like that, months passed as he started to be more present in your life, taking you out every now and then, both of you enjoying the company of spending time with each other.

Gojo came unannounced on a friday evening, you hadn't expected him to come home that day. You were kind of tired after lunch so you took a nap, that's when you heard the doorbell. You rubbed your head as you pushed yourself to go and see who it was, You opened the door, squinting your eyes as it was still hazy.

As you opened the door, Gojo was greeted by the sight of your messy hair, your tank top dishevelled and crinkled. What his eyes focused on was the strap of your top falling off your shoulder.His eyes widened slightly as he took in your appearance, his gaze lingering on your shoulder before quickly averting his gaze. He cleared his throat, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"Uh, hey," he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. "Did I wake you?” realisation dawned on you "satoru? I told you to call me at least when you come over" He watched as you rubbed your eyes, still waking up from your nap.

"Work ended early, so" he replied, leaning against the doorway. "You, uh... you look like you just woke up.” he said looking down at you. "yeah, i was tired, so i took a quick nap" He tried not to focus on the way your top clung to your body, or the way you pulled it up to adjust it.

He was failing, badly.

He forced a smirk on his face as he teased, "Are you always this messy after a nap?” your head bobbed up at his question as your eyebrows knitted "messy? I'm not messy" you protested.

At your cluelessness, he gestured towards your attire. "Your hair's a mess, you're still half asleep, and your top's all crooked," he teased, his eyes flickering over your dishevelled appearance. "Looks like a storm just passed through here.” you felt embarrassed when he said that as you quickly rushed to see your appearance in the mirror after saying "oh Shit."

He chuckled as you cursed. You were so oblivious to the effect you had on him, which made it even more endearing. As you examined yourself, he couldn't help but appreciate the way your loose top clung to your curves, accentuating your figure. He had to look away, feeling his heart rate quicken.

"damn i looked like that?" You said in disgust as you said “let me put on a hoodie” you opened your closet, looking through clothes. For some reason the fact that he had to see you like this made you want to throw yourself off a bridge.

He had to admit, he wouldn't mind if you stayed that way, but he didn't say it out loud. As you mentioned putting on a hoodie, he finally looked back at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Why bother? You look fine," he said, his voice casual but laced with a hint of desire. You looked back at his face as you found a grey hoodie in the closet. “Me, no way” you said as you put it over your head. He watched as you covered yourself with the hoodie, He had hoped for a few more glimpses of you, He shrugged, masking his regret. "Suit yourself," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He noticed the way you tied your hair up, revealing the slender curve of your neck. It sent a jolt of desire through him, making it harder to keep his composure.

He leaned against the door frame of your room, his gaze roaming over you. "You're always so proper," he teased, a hint of huskiness in his voice. "It's nice seeing you a bit... untamed for once.” your eyes widened slightly when he said that as you looked away, your eyes unfocused “yeah..?” You murmured, your eyes turning pink at his comment. He saw the uncertainty in your expression, how you fidgeted under his gaze. Just the sight of you, was driving him crazy.

He pushed himself off the door frame, closing the distance between you. He was now standing right in front of you, his tall frame towering over you. "You're blushing," he said, his voice low

"me? No" you said, chuckling , playing it cool as you averted your gaze away from him, rubbing the back of your neck. He smirked, His eyes fixated on your face, noticing the subtle flush of red on your cheeks.

"Don't lie," he said, his voice a near whisper. "You're blushing. And I wonder... why is that?"

He stepped even closer, reducing the space between you even more. "maybe if you weren't so close" He could tell he was making you flustered, and he was enjoying it immensely.

"Oh, so it's my proximity that's making you blush?" he teased, closing the distance between you again.

He took another step forward, now close enough that you could feel the slight heat radiating off his body. Your back hit the wall as you could not step back anymore, trying to maintain the space between the both of you. "satoru, what are you-” he cut you off before saying "What am I doing?" he repeated, his voice lower and more raspy than before. "Isn't it obvious?"

He took the opportunity to lean in closer, trapping you between his muscular frame and the wall. He had you cornered now, his eyes trained on yours. He leaned in further until his face was mere inches away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

His eyes flicked down to your lips as he slowly pushed the hoodie up, revealing a sliver of your bare skin. The sight of your exposed skin sent a thrill through him, and he couldn't help but let his fingers gently graze over it.

"You're even more beautiful when you're a mess," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. "I should wake you up like this more often.” you didn't know how to respond to what he said, his touch and the way his eyes glanced at your lips, it was all making you crazy, your body trembled at his touch, your eyes not leaving his as you observed his every move. "What do you mean?" You asked with a heavy breath

his lips now mere inches away from your ear. He could hear the hitch in your breath, the slight tremble in your voice "You know what I mean," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Seeing you like this, all messed up like that, it's doing things to me.” your whole face heated up as he whispered to you.

You couldn't help but look away from his striking gaze. He noticed your averted gaze, It only fueled his desire further. He reached out a hand and gently turned your face back towards him, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice firm. As your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt as you met his gaze. The sight of you, pinned against the wall and looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes, made his pulse quicken.

His body pressed against yours, trapping you completely. His hands moved to either side of your head. "That's better.”

His lips were now dangerously close to yours, His eyes flicked down to your lips, noting the slightly parted state, and he found it increasingly hard to resist the urge to taste you. Your gaze moved down to his lips and then back up to his eyes, a silent admission of your desire.

He couldn't hold back any longer. With a low growl, he closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. That's when you realised how badly you craved for a touch. The kiss grew intense each second, fueled by a mutual need that consumed you both. He pressed his body more firmly against yours, pinning you against the wall with his weight, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. He was greedy, so greedy.

139 notes · View notes

mieluscious · 9 months

Text

say it. geto suguru

ෆ pairings : geto suguru × female reader

ෆ genre : smut, pwp

ෆ word count : 4k2

ෆ miel's note : part 1

ෆ warnings : mdni. bully!geto, nerd!reader, reader wears glasses, hate sex, degradation, cheating (on gojo but he doesn't give a fuck tbh), face slapping (geto gets slapped), rough sex, hair pulling, risk of getting caught, dumbification, makeout, spit play, geto is a piece of shit, lowkey toxic, clit pinching, pussy fingering, face grabbing, they fuck against a window and on the teacher's desk . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

“teacher, should i study this chapter for tomorrow's midterm?” you tried to study as hard as you could to get the best grade in your school, seeing your name at the top of the list was such an intense feeling of pride that you became obsessed with it. the teacher approached your desk and circled with his red pen what would be important for you to learn.

“this chapter is not very important but it's good to have everything in mind, you’re a good student y/n.” he smiled and you lowered your head, blushing as you thanked him. “i have to go away for a while. is it okay if i leave you here all alone?” you nodded at him with a smile.

“it’s fine don’t worry, im gonna stay a little bit longer and when i’m done i’ll give the classroom keys back to the secretary.” he smiled back and grabbed his bag, he wished you good luck and disappeared behind the classroom door, leaving you alone with your books.

you were so busy solving your math problem that you didn't hear the door open behind you. you gasped as two hands came down hard on your desk. he pressed his chest against your back, and you could now feel his breath against your ear. "you really are the teacher's pet mh?” you didn't move, thinking that your anger would please him too much, you continued to study as if nothing had happened, putting your glasses back on your nose. “aw are you ignoring me y/n?” you still didn't move, and he took the opportunity to press his lips to your ear.

fearing what he might say, you spoke before he did. “where is satoru ?” he straightened up and sighed, he stepped in front of you and rested his lower back against the desk behind him. you blushed slightly as you remembered the last time he positioned himself like that in front of you. your face was still down on your notebook, but you could feel his piercing gaze on you. he rested his head on his shoulder while his eyes analyzed your face, it was the first time he'd seen you with glasses on. you were very pretty today and he couldn't stop looking at you.

“why don’t you try to look at me if you want to ask me a question.” his voice was deeper and you prayed inwardly that he didn't see your ears twitching. you raised your head towards him, his dark gaze met yours and a smirk played across his lips.

“i don’t like you, i don’t want you to be around me.” he licked his lips as he saw your face harden in annoyance. “and if satoru isn't around i don’t understand why the hell you are here but let me tell you something, i don’t give a fuck, you know why ? because i don’t have time for you geto.” his smile widened at the mention of his last name and seeing him so arrogant irritated you even more, you just wanted to study peacefully and he had to come here to piss you off. he jerked your desk with his foot making you get up from your chair. “what the fuck are you doing ?” his eyes fell on your outfit. cute. you saw him move and you immediately froze. “stop. don’t come near me.” he approached you and you took several steps backwards before ending up pressed against one of the classroom windows. you turned your head to the side to see that some students were playing soccer in the schoolyard.

geto placed his leg between your thighs. you pressed the back of your head against the window as you felt him bring his face closer to yours, you didn't lower your gaze from his eyes, you didn't want to show him that he could intimidate you. he placed his hands on either side of your hips on the windowsill. since he was much taller than you he pressed his forehead against yours, looking down at you. “you're back to being the mean little girl you like to be with me.” his nose was touching yours. you held back a squeal when you felt his knee rise between your thighs. “behave y/n.”

you brought your face closer, brushing your lips against his, your eyes juggling between his two eyes. “aw are you mad at me? you're not scaring me, geto.” he smiled once again. “i'll never listen to you, you mean nothing to me. you're the only one who's obsessed with me.” one of his hands slipped behind your lower back, bringing your hips close to his thigh. you opened your mouth slightly as you felt the pants on his leg press against the fabric of the lace panties under your skirt. his eyes dropped on your luscious mouth. you smiled. “i didn’t know i had that much of an effect on you.”

“then why are you looking at me like that?” his hand behind your back grabbed the fabric of your skirt, pushing you harder against his leg making you reach for his uniform jacket as your clit came into contact with his thigh. “why do you always look at me like you want me to throw you against a wall and fuck you until you can't walk anymore?” he pressed you harder against the window, his hand still behind you, making you arch your back. “you should stop lying lil nerd.” you tugged at the bottom of his jacket, biting your lip under his dark gaze. he rubbed his thigh against your clit again, making you open your mouth a little wider. “does hating me turn you on that much?”

“you wish.” his other hand grabbed your throat, causing you to let out a soft moan from between your lips.

“should i check then?” you mewled quietly as you felt the hand behind your back gently brush its fingers over your hip to reach under the front of your skirt. his thumb brushed your clit against your panties and your teeth sank even deeper into your lip under geto's watchful gaze. his finger gently tugged at your panties letting it seep between your pussy lips making you close your thighs on his leg. you turned your head to the side when you felt his face down your neck, he pressed his lips to your ear and chuckled at how wet you were, making you flinch. “such a lil liar, hm?” he licked the inside of your ear and a moan betrayed you. you didn't realize how hard you were pulling on his jacket until the buttons fell off and scattered on the floor, revealing his muscular body in his molded black t-shirt. he smiled. “just ask me if you want to see me naked.”

his necklace gently caressed the skin of your collarbones as he breathed. his thumb pressed on your jaw, making you throw your head back a little more against the window. “i’d rather die” you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, gritting your teeth as he lifted his face to yours, smiling arrogantly. you were fighting yourself so hard, you hated geto deeply and you'd never lied about this feeling but you couldn't deny the sexual attraction you had for him. the way he looked at you was so different from gojo. he liked to push your buttons and he knew how to do it, and even if his arrogant and proud behavior pissed you off to no end you knew that deep down you couldn't help imagining yourself making him shut his mouth in a more explicit way. you smirked as you caught him looking at you, his eyes slowly roving over every feature of your face. “what's wrong pretty boy you wanna take a picture? so you can jerk off on it at night.”

his whole hand was now in your panties he pinched your clit hard between his thumb and his forefinger making you squeal loudly. you grabbed his wrist by reflex. he leaned his head on his shoulder and looked straight into your eyes, his gaze growing colder despite his beautiful smile. “i don't need a picture for that.” you blushed against your will at his words. you sighed at him to go fuck himself when his thumb began to slowly massage your clit. he licked his lips as he watched you try as best you could to keep your moans to yourself, the bastard knew exactly how to make you feel good and it pissed you off as much as it aroused you. he grasped your jaw firmly and found himself between your thighs, his lips brushing yours. “my lil doll is trying so hard, so cute.” his thumb rubbed your clit harder making you open your mouth wider under his burning gaze. “yeah? does it feels good?” you grabbed his shirt with both hands, tugging at it angrily, hating him for making you want him so much. he chuckled, seeing you so frustrated reminded him of an angry little kitten. the pleasure you felt under his caresses was driving you crazy. you knew you could cum very quickly and you didn't want to let yourself be defeated so easily. but the look in his eyes was so intense that you couldn't stop yourself from moaning against his lips.

“s-stop looking at me-” you squealed as you felt him pinch your clit again. “-like that.” you slammed your fist against his chest. “fuuck- i fucking hate you-” you tried to escape his gaze by turning your head to the side, but he caught it immediately, pressing the back of your head harder against the window. he pushed two fingers into your pussy and you moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist.

he fingerfucked you hard, making you bang against the window with each thrust. you could no longer hold back your moans, you were so loud you were sure you could be heard from the corridor. geto's cocky grin never faded from his face and it frustrated you even more. geto loved to see you lower your weapons under him. you were so cute trying to pretend that the attraction you had for him didn't exist, geto was a great observer and during the few years he was able to spend with you, he had the time to analyze every one of your expressions and know them perfectly. and his favorite one was the face you had when you were about to cum, just like right now. he thrust his fingers inside you so hard that you felt geto's urge to punish you. he smiled even more wickedly as he saw the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth. “aw are you getting dumb so easily?” he licked your lips and the walls of your pussy tightened around his fingers. “i can see it on your pretty face.”

you slid your hands against his torso and finally grabbed his small waist, digging your nails into his skin through the fabric of his t-shirt, making him grunt against your mouth. “y-you..can make me cum all day long. fuck…it won't make me-ah!- r-respect you-” his hand left your jaw to grasp the bottom of your top, lifting it to reveal your breasts in your black lace bra. he stuck the end of your shirt in your mouth, letting you reveal yourself to him. you let him do it, looking at him with a dark look in your eyes.

your orgasm rose higher and higher as you felt his large hand grasp your breast under your bra, massaging your bud firmly. “what a nasty little mouth you have.” his thrusts between your legs accelerated making you arch your back against his chest, his cold necklace swayed against the burning skin of your neck. "shall i teach you another lesson?" your moans grew louder when geto spat on your breast bud and blew on it. you nodded at him and pulled on his shirt, wanting to bring him closer to you. he smiled. you were so much more docile when you were close to cuming. geto caught your lip between his teeth before sucking on it. his hand slid down your back to grasp your ass firmly. you moved your hips against his fingers, moaning loudly against his lips while meeting each of his thrusts, you were feeling it, your orgasm was building, and you couldn't take your eyes off his but it’s when you were about to cum when geto decided to take his fingers out of your pussy.

he took a step backwards, leaving you panting against the window. you only realized a few seconds later that he'd just stopped you from cuming on purpose, he stood proudly in front of you with his hands in his pockets, smiling even wider as he saw your eyes darken and your cheeks turn red with anger. “that’s why i fucking hate you.” you stood up and slammed your fist into his chest, making him chuckle. “you’re just a fucking asshole.” you hit him again. “a fucking piece of shit.” he whistled, impressed to hear your little mouth let out so many nasty words at once. you felt so humiliated and the fact that he was openly laughing at you made you even madder. “get the fuck out of here or im calling satoru.” and this time he laughed, a real laugh, your teeth clenched together so hard you were on the verge of breaking your jaw. you couldn’t take it anymore, you turned your back to him to get your things and leave.

he grabbed a chair and sat down. “and what are you going to tell him? mh? that you had my fingers in your cute little cunt 2min before i bothered you?” you froze. he tilted his head to the side, watching your body tremble slightly. “we could also show him how much you loved it, i still have my fingers wet.” you immediately turned to him and slapped his face with all your might. you breathed heavily while geto were silent, his head tilted to one side because of your slap.

then reality hit you. you'd just slapped geto.

he sighed softly, moving the few strands of hair that had escaped from his bun over his face. he removed his jacket revealing his muscular arms and you tried to hide your gasp as you met his gaze. his eyes were sharp and darker than ever, the way he looked at you let you know he was going to make you cry in no time. it wasn't the first time you'd angered geto like that, but you'd never been alone in a room with him when he was like that. you could feel the fear rising, but the anger you felt was much more intense to let yourself be fooled by emotions of weakness. "i already told you geto. you don't scare me." his dark gaze slid slowly over your lovely bare thighs.

“mhm.” he tilted his head to the side, licking his lips as he saw your juices running down your leg. “so why are you shaking like that y/n.” you gasped as he stood up from his chair to grab your hair and pull you closer to his face. you grabbed his shirt between your trembling hands. “why do you have to be such a mean lil girl mh?” your lips brushed against each other and his eyes never left yours. “satoru is too nice to you, he doesn't put you in your place enough.” you mewled as he ripped off your panties with his other hand. “i have to fix that.” you wrapped your arms around his neck as he grabbed your ass to lift you up. his mouth caught yours greedily and your tongues began to fight. you pulled yourself away from his lips to tell him how much you hated him. one of his hands grabbed your throat and he walked over to the teacher's desk before positioning you on it, your legs firmly around his waist. he withdrew from your mouth and allowed himself to spit into it. “look at you.” he spat again. “you wanna fuck mh?” he laid you on the desk and lifted your skirt, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers. “you dare to slap me and then you want to fuck me mh?” he spat on your clit making you arch your back against the desk, your eyes filled with a mixture of rage and excitement. “such a nasty lil girl.”

his hand went into his pants to pull out his cock and your legs tightened around his waist wanting him inside you as fast as possible. “fuck you.” you tilted your head to the side and arched your back to remove your top and bra, leaving only your skirt on. “you're the most annoying guy i've ever met in my life.” he pressed his hand against your lower belly and you mewled as you felt his cock slap and slide against your pussy lips, slamming it against your clit. he approached you and put his forearms on either side of your head. you grabbed his lip between your teeth and pulled it before letting him suck on your tongue. “you're a fucking asshole.” he thrust his cock against your pussy without getting inside making you both groan. “i have to fuck you to get you out of my head.” he smiled devilishly against your lips and finally thrust his cock inside your cunt causing you to throw your head back and let out a loud scream.

his stomach rubbed yours with each of his powerful thrusts, stimulating your clit against his pubis at the same time. you put your arms behind his back and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling on it to let him know you wanted him to take it off. you mewled as you felt him accelerate his thrusts. “you can't keep still huh? needy lil girl always wants something.” you squealed in frustration and pulled even harder on his shirt, finally making him stand up, take it off and throw it behind him before falling back on top of you, leaving you free to scratch the skin on his back. he moaned against your mouth as he felt your sharp nails dig into his skin. “look at you. fuck.” his hand slipped between your legs to grab one of your thighs and press it against the desk, making you spread your legs wider. you groaned, arching your back as he put his knee on the desk to fuck you even deeper.

your hands went up to his hair, you loosened his bun, letting his long locks fall over his shoulders and against your neck. you tugged at themz firmly, causing him to throw his head back with a grunt. your pussy tightened around his cock as your eyes fell on his adam's apple. “i-it’s not because-” your fingernails dug even deeper into his skin as his balls slammed harder against your ass. “-your dick is good…ah-that i give a fuck about..- you-” he chuckled and looked down at you as he kept pounding your pussy.

“my dick is good huh?” he grabbed your throat and squeezed hard, making you squeal from lack of air. “you’re so honest. what's satoru gonna think of you mh?” you pulled even harder on his hair, which made him growl again. “what will he think of his little princess who likes to be fucked by his best friend's cock?” this time you tried to slap him, but he grabbed your hand and slammed it over your head against the desk. he smiled at the sight of your breasts bouncing with each of his thrusts. “you like slapping me a little bit too much.” he caught your hand in his hair and pressed it against the desk as well. you were now a moaning mess underneath him, the way geto hit his cock directly against your g-spot so easily drove you crazy. you arched your back so hard that your breasts were pressed against his chest, geto didn't miss a moment of the show you were offering him, your delicious mouth that let out little mewls and the glasses that slipped off your nose with each of his thrusts only made his cock even harder. “im so sad for satoru” he stopped himself to pull out his cock and thrust back inside brutally, making you scream so fucking loud. “he can't even see how pretty you look right now.” you squealed when geto suddenly straightened up and pulled you against him, your hands slid over his ass loving the feel of his deep thrusts and you stayed like that for a few seconds, enjoying the way geto was fucking you. you finally looked up at him and your heart skipped a beat when you caught him already looking at you. his mouth was half-open, letting out silent moans as his piercing gaze studied your tear-filled eyes. he brought his face close until his nose touched yours. “say it.” you let out a sob against his mouth as you felt him grab your wrists with one hand and pin them behind your back with an iron grip. the skin of his muscular stomach was so warm against yours. the tip of your tongue caressed his lip as you looked into his eyes. “say my name.” he lowered his face into your neck and you threw your head back as you felt his soft tongue caress your skin from your collarbones to your left ear, which he licked and sucked gently, making your whole body tremble with pleasure. “c’mon. say my name the way you so beautifully said it last time.”

his voice was so charming, it vibrated in your ears like a melody and turned you on even more, you could feel your wetness flowing around his cock and on the desk below you. you hated geto, but the way he begged you while placing small little kisses on your ear, made your heart race. and you hated him even more for making you feel that way. you tried to free your wrists from his grip but he held you in place as if his life depended on it. you mewled louder and your tears of pleasure redoubled as he continued to thrust harder and harder inside you. the sound of his balls slamming into your ass echoed throughout the classroom. you could feel your juices starting to spurt around his cock, a sign that you were about to cum. he grabbed your jaw with his other hand, making you look at him in the eye again, his forehead against yours. your mouth opened wide, letting out louds "ah-aha-haah-ah" as your legs trembled around his waist. geto looked at you intensely, his eyebrows frowned and he moaned louder, feeling that he was close to cumming too. your walls tightened deliciously around him when you lowered your gaze to where you were both connected, you couldn't help but find satisfaction in the way his fat cock kept pounding inside you. you looked up at him again and felt like you were going to cum when you saw his face, geto looked so helpless at that moment his cheeks were all pink and a few strands of his now damp hair fell over the pretty features of his face. “s-suguru..” a sparkle flashed in his eyes. his grip on your wrists loosened and you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck. you gently kissed his lips and gazed into his eyes. “m-make me cum.. s-suguru-”

and that's when geto snapped, his eyes immediately darkened when he saw you so sweet and pretty for him. he slammed you back against the desk and brought your legs over his shoulders, this new position made you scream and he pushed inside you much deeper, hitting your g-spot every time. he inserted his thumb in your mouth and watched you being a moaning mess under him. “say you love me y/n.” you could feel the orgasm rising at his words.

your back arched violently as you felt yourself cumming hard against geto. you thrust your hips against his, your glasses slipped off your nose and an arrogant smile spread across geto's lips as he watched you go stupid over his cock. “ah-ah..ah-i-i love… you suguru-” your half-open lips and feverish gaze planted in his were enough to make him cum inside you while moaning against your lips.

his thrusts slowed and he put his forearms on either side of your head, smiling as he watched you try to catch your breath, your makeup was running down your pretty face and your glasses had slid against your lips. he gently grabbed the back of your head and blew on your ear, making you flinch. cute.

“i told you i was gonna teach you how to love me.”

#geto suguru #geto smut #jjk geto #getou suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #one shot #anime smut #smut #getou suguru x reader #getou x reader #jujutsu geto #satosugu

888 notes · View notes

normansnt · 7 months

Note

Could I request a third part of the prince? I love it!

YES OMG YOU ARE MY FIRST REQUEST HIIII THANK YOU SM IM HAPPY YOU LIKE IT🧡🧡

Yeah I might have forgot to mention I do in fact take requests😎

Actually ya'll have been loving the prince series and I was wondering if you want me to making it into like a full blown story like following the series events and what not, or like just a little series of cute scenarios?

Let me know.

Warnings:

The prince (part 3)

(Alastor x male reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Currently you were arguing with your father. Since the moment he found out you are dating Alastor he was not happy, to say the least.

"Why the sudden urge to leave? Is it not good here anymore because I can clean up the rubber ducks-"

"No dad thats not the point I just think I'm old enough to move out and Charlie has her hotel with a lot of rooms, and I mean I guess her dream is not that impossible-"

"Yeah right, like I'm going to believe that you just want to move in with that bambi of yours" he scoffed

"Dont call him- thats not- ok fine yeah, I want to move in with Alastor why is that such a problem I am a grown ass adult I can do as I please." And with that you left the room to pack.

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

"I swear, he still thinks I am a kid." You were pacing in Alastor's room while he was sitting on a couch and calmly drinking tea.

"He let Charlie go?? Why not me why cant I do what I want with my life" you continued your angry ranting while unpacking you clothes.

At this point you were basically moved in with Alastor. You had all your stuff there you just needed to unpack, which he solved with a flick of his wrist. You could have done that too, but your father raised both you and your sister to not be careless with the amount of power you have, also you were busy rambling.

"*sigh*...thank you honey." You said quietly as you took a seat next to him slumping into the couch.

Alastor looked at you. Till now he was just half listening to you ramble and he thought you would feel better once you let it out and you two could cuddle but right now you looked even more sad, defeated even.

This did not sit right with him. If there was anything he hated most was seeing you sad or hurt.

He took a hold of your hand and put his other one on your cheek to guide your head to look at him.

"My dear, this issue will be resolved just as any other, you will make up with your father." He reassured you with a smile.

"I know but than it will start again, and I'm starting to feel like he will never accept you even though you are so important to me and... it's just too much right now, I'm sorry I need to be alone." And with that you left.

There it was again. That stinging feeling in his chest. Alastor had to take matters into his own hands.

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

You walked down the stairs and took a seat by the bar.

"Damn kid, rough day?" Asked Husk as you put your head into your hands and groaned.

"Thats one way to put it, can you please get me a whisky on the rocks" you said in your ever so kind voice.

Husk liked you. On contrary to your father and older sister you were calm, quiet and well spoken. All this while still having the heart of gold they have as well.

He never understood how a charming young man such as yourself would find himself in a relationship with a demon like Alastor.

During your numerous visits to the Hotel you have talked to Husk a lot and you two became really good friends. The same went for Angel who usually joined you guys. You three usually sat by the bar chatting for hours.

"Hi (Y/N)," you heard Angels voice approaching as you sipped on your whisky. He took a seat next to you and shared a quick kiss with Husk. You chuckled to yourself quietly, you have been rooting for the two from the very beginning and when they finally got together you were so happy you shedded a few tears.

"Hi Angel" you gave him a small smile but he saw through it.

"Aww, toots hard times?" He asked as Husk handed him his drink.

"It's a long story" you answered.

"We got time" said Husk encouragingly.

You smiled a little than started telling the story.

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

Alastor was on his way to find Charlie. He needed to solve the situation or he had to gauge his own eyes out so he doesn't have to see you sad.

He figured if he got your father to come to the hotel you can talk things out. As well as, he is going to try and make an effort not to be a complete ass with him but Lucifer has to try and be nice as well, for your sake.

He needed Charlie for this because if Alastor asked Lucifer to come he would not. However if Charlie asked, he'd be there in a second.

"Oh Charlie?" He wondered into the princess's room.

"Yes? OH Alastor HI how is my brother doing?" She asked with excitement. She was more than thrilled that her little brother is going to move into her hotel.

"Not so well I'm afraid I acquire your assistance to make him feel better"

"What? Whats the problem is he ok? Did you hurt him? Alastor I do not care how helpful you are around here if you hurt my little brother-" Her eyes started glowing red as her hair was swept into the air and her horns started to show.

Before this could go any further Alastor cut her off.

"My dear, rest assured I would kill hell's entire population and my self before causing any harm to your darling brother." He said calmly.

"Oh, then whats the problem?" Asked Charlie now calm.

And so Alastor explained everything to Charlie.

When Alastor and Charlie knocked on her father's door there was no answer. They looked at one another and Charlie checked if it was open. It was, so they could go in without problems.

"Hello? Dad?" Yelled Charlie as her voice echoed in the huge mansion.

"YOU, It's your fault you took them away from me" they heard as they looked to their right.

In seconds Alastor was tackled to the floor with a very angry Lucifer on top.

When Charlie registered what she was seeing she started to pull her father off of the Radio demon to almost no avail. The devil wouldn't budge.

"YOU TOOK BOTH OF MY CHILDREN AWAY FROM ME ARE YOU HAPPY NOW IS THAT ENOUGH?"

Lucifer was not happy. He was yelling in his demon form wings out and fire spewing from his mouth.

"DAD"

Everyone stopped. You were standing in the door looking at the scene before you, baffled.

You rarely raised your voice, so to hear it this loud and clear shocked most people in the room.

You cleared your throat. And said in your normal calm voice again.

"Can we talk in private."

Lucifer calmed down and followed you into the room you left to.

When he entered the room to his surprise, you hugged him.

"Listen dad, I understand that both of your kids growing up is hard for you, and I'm sorry for leaving you alone but I need my space I'm starting to live my life and its with Alastor because I love him."

You said in a very gentle tone.

Your dad looked at you for some time then hugged you again.

"You really love him, kiddo?" He looked at you with understanding eyes as he let go.

"I do, dad I really do." You answered.

Your dad sighed. He took a hold of your hands.

"All that matters to me is that you are happy. I'm sorry I have been such a jerk about it but...it's so hard to let you kids go, you will always be my babies" He sniffed lightly.

You chuckled at that and squeezed his hands.

"Can you please make an effort to not hate Alastor?" You tried.

He groaned.

"Yeah, yeah I'll see what I can do but he needs to be cooperative"

You walked out of the room.

Charlie stood up with tears in her eyes and hugged you both.

"Oh...the walls are thin here aren't they?" You asked as you looked at your dad.

"Yeaaah, forgot to mention that."

"You guys, I'm so happy you made up are we ok now?" She asked between sniffles.

"Yeah, we are ok" you smiled at your dad.

After your sister let you go from her crushing embrace Alastor walked up to you.

"I- listen no pressure about saying-" he cut you off by swapping you off your feet into a breathtaking kiss.

"I...I love you too, darling" he said quietly, without the radio statics, he said it in his real voice, as he put his forehead on yours.

"OK, see, I promised to be nice but there is no need to rub it in my face" your father said as he dragged you away.

Alastor straightened up and, with the static back in his voice and an eye twitching, he held his hand out to your father.

"I promise to make an effort to not murder you" he smiled eerily at your dad.

Lucifer had a brooding expression on his face but shook the radio demons hand none the less.

"Thank you." You said at last as you hugged both of them. They hugged you back. While glaring at each other behind your back.

Sure they are gonna make an effort. When you're looking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TADA

I really hope you like it again thank you for the request.

Also please let me know if y'all want any of what I mentioned in the beginning.

When Alastor's staff broke and he started talking w/o the statics I was ON MY KNEES.

I WANNA THANK EVERY SINGLE ON OF YOU WHO LIKE MY STORIES THEY HAVE RECEIVED A LOT OF LOVE AND IM THANKFUL BEYOND IMAGINATION THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU💗💗

OK LOVE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT/MORNING WHATEVER MWUAH💋

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x male reader #hazbin alastor

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homestylehughes · 6 months

Text

i wanna taste

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: after one sight of y/n, jack has to get a taste.

warnings: smut 18+. oral- fem receiving, dirty talk, cussing, use of pet names. fluff, soft jack.

wc: 1.8k

au: hi loves! im on a writing streak (thank you spring break). im back with some jack smut woooohooooo, i realllllyyyy enjoyed writing this, i hope you guys enjoy. like and reblog if you enjoy<3.

happy reading <3

Rain softly hits the window, the soft light from the lamp in the corner of the living room illuminates the room with a soft glow.

I've been awake for a few hours, my body waking me up at 5 am, turning over to see that Jack was sound asleep beside me, I decided to get out of bed and start my day.

Settling on the couch with a cup of coffee in my hands along with my book, this is where I've been for the last 3 hours. The book captivated me so much I didn't even check the time until I had finished it.

The clock read 8:15, I was genuinely surprised Jack wasn't awake yet. His crazy hockey schedule kept him awake and up at odd hours, his body probably needed all of the sleep it could get.

Getting up to get another cup of coffee, and the second book of the series I’m reading, I settle back into the couch and enter an alternate universe.

I'm so into my book, that I don't even realize Jack creeping up behind me, wrapping his arms around my neck, nessling his face in my neck, feeling his warm breath fan my neck.

“Good morning pretty girl” I hear him say, as his face is still muffled in my neck.

“Good morning” I say back as I crane my neck up to meet his face, getting a good look at his face for the first time today.

Taking in his sleepy doe like state, hair a mess, eyes full of sleep, leaving evidence that he just woke up. Sweatpants riding scarily low on his hips, his chest bare, allowing me to rake my eyes over it.

“Done checking me out pretty girl” he smiles down on me, catching me in the act. “Maybe, i'm not sure yet” i muttered back, my face heating with a slight embarrassment. “How'd you sleep?” I ask him, still looking up at him. “Good, really good. Would have been better if I woke up with you beside me” he says, looking down at me.

“Sorry baby, I randomly woke up at like 5am. I didn't want to wake you up "I say feeling bad, for leaving him in the bed alone.

“It's okay, you can make up for it now” he says as he begins to lean down, his lips meeting mine in a soft kiss. The angle makes it a little hard for me to fully kiss him, but I deal with it and push my body up further to meet his kiss.

Our lips moved in sync for a few more seconds before Jack pulls away, resting his arms on the arm rest behind me, giving me a few seconds to catch my breath.

“That's a better good morning greeting” Jack says as he's smiling, making his way to the other end of the couch, picking up the blanket that covers my feet and slides under it as he sits down.

The simple movement probably means nothing to him, but it does to me, seeing him so at peace, and calm makes my heart warm. I'm quickly pulled out of my daydream when I hear Jack's voice.

“Has it been raining all morning?” he asks as he's looking out the window, the rain still hitting the window.

“Yeah it's been raining since i've been out here” i say “it's very peaceful” he replies back softly. Turning his body back to face mine, “what time is it?” he asks, snuggling himself deeper into the blanket like a child, “9:30” i reply back.

“Dang i slept in” Jack says with an airy laugh. I laugh softly in response, as I go to pick up my coffee mug to take a drink, to only find that its empty.

“I'm going to go get more coffee, do you want a cup?” I asked him, raising my back from the couch to get up.

“Yes please that sounds amazing, thank you pretty girl” he says, moving himself back to a sitting position on the couch.

“Okay baby, I'll be back” I say as I fling the blanket off my body, not seeing Jack's widened eyes as I turn my back to him as I make my way to the kitchen.

Making both of our cups of coffee I make my way back to the living room, I feel Jack's eyes on me instantly.

“Here you go baby” I say, holding the hot cup out to him, “can you place it on the table for me?” he rasps out, as I go to place the mug on the table in front of us, I hear Jack speak again “set yours down too”. I look up at him confusingly as I set both cups down on the table.

“Are you okay Jack?” I ask him, my eyes locked on his face. “Yeah i'm fine, can you come here please”

I make my way closer to him, standing in front of the couch where he lays, Jack deciding that isn't close enough for him. He puts his hands on my hips pulling me into his lap. His hands moving to rest on my bare thigh.

“What are you wearing?” he asks me, looking down at my body, i see nothing wrong with what i'm wearing. “Clothes?” i reply back timidly, still confused on why he's acting like this.

“Your not wearing pants” he says, tracing his hands under my shirt, circling his hands on my practically bare hips, causing my breath to hitch slightly.

“You're walking around the house in a tiny thong, and a shirt that doesn't even cover your ass completely, and you expect me not to do anything” bringing his face to mine, close enough that I can feel his breath fanning on my face. I swallow before saying “what are you going to do about it?”

Before I know it, Jack smashes his lips to mine. The kiss is hot and wet, his tongue quickly entering my mouth fighting and winning for dominance. My hands in his hair pulling him closer to me, wishing that there wasn’t a blanket separating us.

I began to rock my hips into his to gain some type of friction, I can feel the dampness between my thighs beginning to grow.

I pull my lips from his and begin to trail them down his neck, kissing and sucking little love bites in my wake, softly biting his ear as I make my way down. I hear Jack's breathing beginning to pick up, moaning lowly in my ear.

Just as I'm about to trail my way back to his lips, he pushes me off of him. My back is now hitting the couch. I look up at him breathless, waiting for his next move.

“I have to taste you pretty girl, I've been dying to do it all morning” Jack says, eyes locked with mine as he pushes the blanket of his body. Making his way between my legs spreading them apart as he rests in between them now.

Tracing his hands up my bare thighs, his hands sliding under the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down slowly, while keeping his eye contact with me. Once my underwear are completely off me, he throws them somewhere behind him.

Jack begins to kiss up my thighs, alternating between each of my legs. My chest is rising quickly now, I need him to do something soon, the tension is starting to kill me.

“Pretty pussy is so wet for me” he sighs as he slides his middle finger between my folds before pulling it back out, his finger glistening in front of him before sliding it into his mouth.

Moaning at the taste, his eyes are on mine. This action alone causes me to moan down at him, shifting my hips closer to his face.

“Tastes so sweet, pretty girl” he says as he guides his face back down to my pussy. “ I think I wanna have a taste now, is that alright with you, pretty girl?” his eyes searching mine for an answer. “Yes jack, please” I breathlessly say to him.

Not even a second later, jack is diving into my pussy, his tongue finding my clit instantly. My hands fly into his hair grabbing something to hold on to while jack fucks me with his tongue.

My moans are beginning to fill up the room, along with the sounds of jack slurping up my pussy, like a man who hasn't had a drink of water in days.

Taking me by surprise Jack pushes 2 fingers into me, continuing to lap up my clit with his tongue. “Jack fuck” I moan out, pulling his hair even tighter between my fingers, the action causing jack to groan into me, sending chills up my body.

I began to push my hips to meet his tongue and fingers, beginning to feel the coil in my stomach heating up.

Jack senses that i'm almost there, he thrusts his fingers into me, but curves them just enough so that he hits my g-spot.

Causing my eyes to roll in the back of my head my body arching off the couch, my hips pushing themselves further into his grasp.

“Right there fuck jack, please dont stop” I groan out. I reach under my shirt grabbing my right nipple between my hands squeezing it in between my fingers, as my other hand starts needing my left boob.

“Fuck pretty girl, you look so hot from up there” my breath labors at the sound of jacks rough voice “does it feel good pretty girl?” “fuck, you feel so tight against my fingers, taking me so fucking good like a good girl” he says as he brings his thumb to my clit, rubbing and pinching it hard and fast.

Incoherent things are falling from my lips at this point, the only thing I'm focused on is jack and the dam in my body that's about to break.

Before I know it I'm cumming, hard and fast. My orgasm gives me no warning as it begins to wash over my body, hitting me like a tidal wave.

My moans and “don’t stops” fill the living room, my grip on Jack's hair never loosening. Finally coming down from my high, I try to catch my breath, I open my eyes that make their way down to Jack who's looking at me with wide eyes, and a parted swollen mouth catching his breath.

Making his way up to me, so that he's now directly on top of me, pushing himself up by his arms. “That was the hottest thing ive ever fucking seen.'' Jack says before capturing his lips with mine.

Pulling back to look into his eyes, before something catches my attention. The cups of coffee on the table. “I think our coffee is cold,” I say, trying to hold back my laugh.

“I dont give a fuck about that coffee anymore” jack says as he laughs back at me, bringing his lips back to mine mumbling “how about we finish this in the bedroom?” before picking me up and dragging me to our bedroom. The coffee being long forgotten about.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #new jersey devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n

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moronkombat · 1 year

Note

I'm not sure if you do funny requests, but if you do, maybe a single parent s/o with two chaotic kids dragging along Syzoth, Tomas, Kenichi, and Johnny to gift their mom a boyfriend?

i chose to do syzoth and tomas because i am feeling sleepy from all the typing. im sorry!!!

"Where are you taking me again?" Comes Syzoth's inquiry.

"To see mom." A small voice says.

"Yeah, she'll be very happy with us!" Comes another.

Syzoth's brow squirm in confusion but as two little hands guide him, just gently pulling on his fingers, he finds himself unwilling to pull away. Their smiles are that of happiness and he too once knew the happiness of a child.

But he hasn't the time to think about it, not when he feels a tug from the two little ones that pull him further. He hears some shouting then, panicked and calling. Names? Soon he doesn't have to guess who these names belong to.

A woman comes into view and her eyes dart to the children holding Syzoth's hands. "There you two are!"

She is rushing over to them now, kneeling down to check on them. She appears nervous and breathless, having been searching for her children for sometime now.

"We've brought you a present, mom!"

"Yeah, we've found you a boyfriend!"

What? Suddenly Syzoth is blushing and the woman is chiding her children before her gaze finds him. She stands then.

"I am so sorry, sir." She begins rather embarrassed.

"It's...alright." Syzoth says, giving a half smile, "I'm just glad they found their mother."

"You and me both, and you two-" her gaze snaps to her children, hands at her "-no more games about this, alright?"

Her children merely seem to laugh and giggle and Syzoth can't help but smile.

"So, what's your name again, Smokey?" Says someone much smaller than the Lin Kuei member

"It's Tomas."

"I like Smokey better. Don't you?" A small pair of eyes find another.

"Yeah. It sounds a lot better."

Tomas raises a brow as he follows these two kids who have claimed to have lost their mother. They rather calm to be without their caretaker, aren't they? That's what Tomas thinks but how was he to turn away two small children in need of help?

Shouting hits his ears and his brow quirks. The two children seem to speed up and so Tomas steps a bit lighter. When turning the corner he is met with a woman who appears most frantic. She is quick to run over, taking the children into a hug and Tomas figures this must be there mother.

"Where have you two been?!" She demands but her children appear ever calm.

"We went to go find you a boyfriend. His name is Smokey. Our plan was done perfectly, right?"

"Yup yup!"

Tomas feels awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. "They told me they lost their mother..."

"Oh did they?" She gives her children a look but they play rather innocent.

"Thank you for bringing them back to me and I'm sorry you got caught up in their game."

"Don't mention it. Just happy to bring them back to you. My name is really Tomas, by the way."

"Well, Tomas, it is good to meet you."

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #syzoth #syzoth x reader #tomas vrbada #mk smoke #tomas x reader #tomas x you #syzoth x you

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its-avalon-08 · 4 months

Note

Amoreeee!

i love ur works and i have a very specific reuqest in mind. this is too detailed so please feel free to ditch a few details because im aware its too much. this is a mv1 x senna!daughter one.

max is hard racing some driver and he gets angry and flustered and he crashes because he act irresponsibly. y/n's heart stops because the way the car rotated and hit the barrier refletced her late father's passing.

her breath stops, max is ok but gp IS ANGRY at him because that could have been easily avoided. max is not hurt at all.

he is still angry when he comes back into the motor home. and then y/n gives him a cold shoulder and doesnt speak to him.

this makes max angrier leading to a passive aggressive arguement. max says something which leads y/n to say "fine then, fuck off and die see if i care" max is shcoked and so is everyonbe else in the motorhome

when she rushes out in tears she bumps into carlos/charles/lando and he comforts her and she says "i never shouldve said that"

they make up, hapoy ending make it extra emotional.

LOVE UR WORKS!

i have to confess, i love this one the most out of everything i've ever written. its extra extra long, and the anon messaged me and asked me to add a few more things, so i have done the same! anon ily ! (edit - i messed up the translation! its been fixed now!!) enjoy reading <3

coração valente (mv1) (brave heart)

find the headcannon here!

The roar of the engine was a dull thrum in Y/N's ears as she watched the battle unfold on the screen. Max was locked in a fierce fight for position with Esteban Ocon. Every aggressive lunge, every desperate attempt to overtake sent a tremor of unease through her. It was too reminiscent, too close to the edge.

Then, disaster struck. Ocon made a late move, and Max, fueled by frustration and a competitive fire, reacted impulsively. He swerved to block him, the car losing traction as it took the corner too tightly. The world slowed down as Y/N watched in horror. The Red Bull spun, a sickening ballet of red and blue against the asphalt, before slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch.

Her breath hitched, a choked sob escaping her lips. The way the car crumpled, the dust cloud mirroring the crash that stole her father… the memory flooded back, vivid and terrifying. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo threatening to burst through her chest.

Thankfully, the medical team rushed to the scene, and the relief was almost a physical blow. Max emerged from the wreckage, shaken but unharmed. But the reprimand from Horner was swift and brutal. "Unnecessary risk, Verstappen! You could have avoided that entirely!"

By the time Max stormed back into the motorhome, his anger was a palpable presence. He tossed his helmet onto the couch, the thud echoing in the tense silence. Y/N sat by the window, her back to him, a cold, hard wall where warmth and concern usually resided.

"Great job out there," Max spat, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Another brilliant strategy by Horner, putting all the pressure on me."

Y/N remained silent. Her silence was a punishment, far worse than any raised voice. Max, already on edge, bristled.

"You gonna say something, genius?" he snapped. "Or are you just gonna sit there like a statue?" Y/N turned a deaf ear to that.

The air in the motorhome felt thick enough to chew on. Y/N sat at the table, meticulously organizing spare race parts, a pointed silence radiating from her. Max hovered by the coffee machine, his usual swagger dampened by a heavy frown.

Christian Horner, ever the mediator, attempted to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he boomed, "what are we learning from this little spin?"

Max, bristling at the reminder, mumbled a vague response about tire strategy. Y/N, without looking up, chimed in, "Perhaps a lesson in spatial awareness wouldn't go amiss."

The air crackled. Max whipped his head towards her, his jaw clenched. "Oh, and who's the expert on spatial awareness, Miss Never-Been-On-The-Track?"

Y/N slammed a wrench down a little too hard, the metallic clang echoing in the tense silence. "There's a difference between calculated risk and reckless driving," she retorted, her voice laced with ice.

Max scoffed. "Spoken like someone who's never felt the pressure of a championship on their shoulders."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "Pressure doesn't excuse stupidity, Max," she said, her voice clipped.

Horner cleared his throat, his booming voice a desperate attempt to break the ice. "Look, let's all take a moment to cool down. We can dissect the crash later. Right now, Max needs a clear head for the next race."

With that, Horner steered Max towards a debriefing session, leaving Y/N alone in the charged atmosphere. She picked up a stray bolt, turning it over in her hand, her knuckles white with repressed anger. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the workshop around her.

Just then, Charles walked in, his perceptive eyes catching the glint of tears on her cheeks. "Rough day?" he asked softly.

Y/N choked back a sob. "It's just… I don't know if I can watch him race anymore," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion.

Charles pulled up a chair beside her, his presence a silent comfort. "You know Max," he said gently. "He makes mistakes, but he learns from them."

Y/N shook her head. "This wasn't just a mistake, Charles. It was reckless. And it brought back…" she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Charles squeezed her shoulder in understanding. "The fear," he finished for her. "It's always there, isn't it?"

Y/N nodded, a tear escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. "I can't lose him too," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Charles offered a sad smile. "You won't," he assured her. "Max is stubborn, but he cares about you. He'll learn from this."

His words offered a glimmer of hope. Y/N knew Charles was right. But the fear, the raw terror that had gripped her during the crash, still lingered.

Max, a whirlwind of frustration earlier, had retreated into a sullen silence. Y/N, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, refused to acknowledge him directly. The tension crackled between them, a storm waiting to erupt.

Daniel Ricciardo, ever the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he said, a touch too cheerfully, "what are we having for dinner? Surely Y/N has whipped up some magic in the kitchen?"

Y/N's lips twitched, but she remained focused on her phone, pretending not to hear. Max, still fuming, mumbled a curt, "I don't care."

The forced joviality died a quick death. Charles, sensing the undercurrents, offered, "Actually, I wouldn't mind ordering some takeout. How about some Indian?"

Y/N finally looked up, her voice clipped. "No, thank you, Charles. I'm not particularly hungry."

Max scoffed. "Suit yourself. More for the rest of us, then."

The passive-aggressive jabs continued throughout the evening, each veiled comment a fresh barb. Y/N praised Charles's recent qualifying performance, a clear dig at Max's reckless driving. Max, in turn, bragged about a new training program he was starting, a not-so-subtle jab at Y/N's perceived lack of understanding.

"Honestly that race was mine, Ocon fucked it up for everyone," Max proclaimed.

"Maybe," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "if you hadn't been so busy playing daredevil, you wouldn't have thrown away the race."

The words hung heavy in the air. Max felt a flicker of something cold and sharp twist in his gut. "Playing daredevil?" he scoffed. "I was out there fighting for the win!"

"At what cost?" Y/N's voice cracked, the dam of her emotions threatening to burst. "Do you even understand the fear you put me through?"

Max, for the first time, saw a glimpse of the terror that mirrored his own reckless driving. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the words wouldn't come.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, in a moment of horrifying clarity, Max blurted out, "Look, if you can't handle the pressure, maybe you should just—"

The sentence died on his lips as he saw the blood drain from Y/N's face. She stared at him, her eyes filled with a hurt so profound it took his breath away.

"Fine then," she said, her voice a choked whisper. "fuck off and die. see if i care."

The words echoed in the stunned silence. Everyone in the motorhome froze, their eyes wide with shock. Even Max, fueled by anger, felt a cold dread settle in his stomach.

Y/N didn't wait for a response. Tears streaming down her face, she bolted out of the motorhome, the slam of the door a punctuation mark to the shattered silence.

Max stared after her, a tapestry of emotions swirling within him – anger, regret, a terror that mirrored her own. He lunged after her, but Charles, who had witnessed the exchange, caught him by the arm.

"Let her go," Charles said gently, his voice laced with concern. "She needs some space."

Max sank back onto the couch, his head in his hands. "What did I do?" he rasped, the anger replaced by a crushing weight of remorse.

The atmosphere was suffocating. Everyone, even the usually jovial mechanics, seemed to walk on eggshells around the warring couple. Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she walked, the weight of the fight, the fear, and the unspoken hurt threatening to overwhelm her. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

The cool night air did little to soothe the burning in Y/N's eyes. She wandered away from the motorhome complex, her legs numb and directionless. The roar of the track faded behind her, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves. Tears streamed down her face, carving clean tracks through the grime of the day.

Then, she saw it. Half-hidden behind a cluster of trees, a towering mural emerged from the darkness. It was a familiar image – her father, mid-corner, a determined glint in his eyes, the car a blur of yellow and green. A wave of emotions washed over her – grief, pride, and now, a searing anger.

Sinking down onto a nearby bench, Y/N found herself talking to the painted image. "Why didn't you tell me, Dad?" she choked out, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Why didn't you tell me how terrifying it would be to watch someone you love race?"

"Doesn't he understand, Dad? Doesn't he see the risk he takes? It's like he doesn't care! Doesn't care about the fear he puts me through, the terror that I relive every single time I see a car spin out of control!"

She slammed her fist against the concrete wall, a raw scream escaping her lips. The sound echoed in the quiet night, a testament to the storm raging within her. Tears streamed down her face, hot and angry.

"And then," she continued, her voice trembling, "he has the audacity to get mad at me? To act like I'm the one overreacting? Doesn't he see what his actions do? Doesn't he see what he almost took away from me today?"

Silence, except for the rustle of leaves in the night breeze. But in her mind, she could almost hear his voice, warm and reassuring. "coração valente (brave heart)," it seemed to say, the nickname he always used for her. "Fear is a part of it, but it doesn't have to control you."

Y/N wiped her eyes, a flicker of understanding replacing the anger. Her father hadn't raced because it was easy. He raced because of the passion, the thrill, the dance with danger. He wouldn't have wanted her to live in fear, but to find her own strength, her own way to navigate the world he left behind.

The sting in his eyes wasn't just from the acrid smoke billowing from a nearby barbecue. Max's chest ached with a dull ache that had nothing to do with the crash. Y/N's words, "fine then, fuck off and die. See if I care," echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his monumental screw-up.

He couldn't just sit there, stewing in his self-pity. He needed to find her, needed to apologize and explain the terrifying realization that had dawned on him during their tense silence.

Following a hunch, he made his way to the secluded corner where the mural of Ayrton Senna stood. In the dim glow of a single overhead light, he saw Y/N curled up with her back against the wall, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. A red mark marred her hand where it had connected with the concrete.

His heart lurched. He knelt down beside her, his voice barely a whisper. "Y/N?"

She flinched at the sound, whipping her tear-streaked face towards him. Her eyes, red and puffy, held a storm of emotions – hurt, anger, and something akin to pleading.

Max swallowed the lump in his throat. "I… I shouldn't have said what I said," he began, his voice thick with remorse. "My anger… it clouded everything. I didn't…" He broke off, his own voice cracking.

Tears spilled down Y/N's cheeks. "And I..." she started, her voice trembling. "I never should have said what I did. It was awful, unforgivable of me." Her voice choked on a sob. "I don't… I don't want to lose you, Max. Not like that."

With a choked cry, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Max held her tight, the dam breaking inside him. He pressed kisses to her hair, each one a silent apology, a promise.

"I get it now, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I understand the fear. I see it reflected in your eyes every time I step onto the track. And I promise, I'll never do anything like that again. Not if it means putting you through that kind of pain."

They clung to each other, a tangle of limbs and broken sobs. The night air vibrated with the raw emotions they were finally releasing. Slowly, the sobs subsided into sniffles, leaving behind a fragile calm.

Max pulled back, wiping away a stray tear from Y/N's cheek with his thumb. "Let's go back," he said gently, his voice hoarse. "We can talk properly, sort things out."

Y/N nodded, her eyes searching his. "Together," she added, a shaky smile playing on her lips.

Max grinned back, the familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes. "Always," he promised. "Together, no matter what the track throws at us."

As they walked back hand-in-hand, the mural of Ayrton Senna seemed to watch over them, a silent guardian of their love, a love forged in fire, tested by fear, and ultimately strengthened by understanding and forgiveness. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with each other, they knew they could face anything.

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precious-little-scoundrel · 6 months

Text

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Requested: yes…Virgin!Gale + Maureen/Gale bonding

Universe: Friends in the Crucible (pacific au)

Summary: “Get laid, Buck.” Doc Egan prescribed with his peculiar brand of deathly serious compassion, “Hell, I’ll write you a prescription for it, if it soothes your conscience, but I’m serious. Serve your jitters better than any syrette or Amphetamine.”

Warnings: all the sex! 18+.|| both tender and feral || Doc Egan being a unorthodox but loving menace, a theme of ptsd and body tremors/insomnia -poor Gale is going through it after a whole war, drug mentions, erectile disfunction, Maureen is aggressive but everything’s consensual, usage of the word “Jap”. Graphic descriptions of Gale’s virginity loss, male overstimulation and an amusing amount of thought given to Bucky’s existence during the act … im sure that won’t lead to anything when Maureen returns to base and reports to Egan about it, right? Hahaha of course not, that would be craaazy

Word count: 10k

“Buck, come on now, it’s not a prison sentence, it’s just a little time off.”

“I don’t need time off.” Gale reiterated, a panicked sort of fierceness creeping into his tone as his appeal now stretched into something longer than the usual flippant favors Egan was customarily so eager to dole out.

“Those hands suggest ya do.” John gave a not unkind glance of sympathy at the twitching fingers rattling on the armrests of Cleven’s chair.

12 rescue missions in 15 days. Flying upwards of ten hours each. He’d done worse before, but then again, that had been when he was fresh, younger, less banged up from the head hitting the cockpit wall.

“Sending me to go watch flamingos and contemplate sand or some shit isn’t gonna make me steadier.” Gale very much feared his gripes were beginning to sound like begs, “Don’t send me off like this. Don’t.”

“Petrified of flamingos?” John hummed, glancing down at his chart as if contemplating making a note of this new malady, “Maybe if your dad had taken you to a zoo once or twice as a kid you’d not be scared stiff of the prospect.”

Cleven stared back at him with the most hurt eyes John had ever seen. He balled his own fist up to remember the rightness of his point, even if he’d delivered it about as clumsily as a marriage proposal at a funeral. “The hell would you say something like that?” Buck whispered, not even angry, just utterly lost.

“Buck, I’m just sayin’ -inability to slow or be alone, it’s classic symptoms of battle fatigue.”

“I don’t wanna sit on a beach when I could be helping, I’m perfectly capable of still helping! You know it!”

“But you can’t sleep.” John circled back to where this all began, with Gale asking if there was anything to knock a fella out when 82 hours of insomnia wasn’t sufficiently exhausting.

“Give me something, you’re a doctor! Goddamnit, John!” Gale finally broke, voice raising and fists clenched.

“Surgeon, technically.” John gave him a wane smile, “And I can’t dope up an active pilot.”

“Just an active surgeon.” Gale sneered, tit for tat on the insults.

John nodded grimly but murmured, “The day Gale Cleven becomes John Egan is a day this whole operation can pack up and go home.”

“So you're being the better man,” Gale scoffed, “-sending me to watch flamingos.”

“I’m not givin’ you shit.“ he confirmed, “Unless it’s an assignment.”

“Will it keep me outta the flak asylum?”

“If you comply to all the regulations, maybe.” Egan shrugged.

“Go on?”

“Get laid, Buck.” his friend prescribed with his peculiar brand of deathly serious compassion, “Hell, I’ll write you a prescription for it, if it soothes your conscience, but I’m serious. Serve you better than any syrette or Amphetamine.”

“That’s your ultimatum?”

“No, no, my ultimatum is that you go on a little sabbatical with one of my nurses, she’ll keep an eye on you and you can make yourself useful, helping her unload heavy shit at the aid station they’re setting up at Peleliu. My recommendation is that when she comes into your room at the end of the day and drops her knickers, you lay back and think of Wyoming.”

Major Cleven had thought of a million and one ways to bribe or ally the prospective nurse to his side of the deal once he knew which unfortunate female Egan was going to pick for this deplorable detail. Calling his friend a pimp and a bastard had done little good, threatening malpractice and a hardness of heart towards Gale’s own principles -even less. So Gale figured when the time came he’d just gently turn the well meaning comfort gal away and maybe pay her off to lie that they’d done it: for his hand’s sake.

After all, if she was willing to do this, was she even a nurse or was she someone Bucky dressed up in Red Cross arm bands like some sleazy fantasy? Gale didn’t think any of the nurses he’d encountered would be willing to go along with such a sordid “assignment.” Sure, some of them were -carefree. Indulgent. Easy, as the men sometimes called them before getting a stinging cheek that proved them wrong. But they were a proud bunch and they had earned it.

Rolling a toothpick in his cheek, Buck pondered these things while sat on the bench of a Goony Bird waiting for his nurse to hop into the cargo hold with him and off they’d go to Pelilu. The situation was made worse by the suspense of who it might be and the insulting foreignness of being on a plane but not piloting. It made Gale feel an odd sort of feeling close to self pity that he hadn’t felt in ages, not since he was a kid and the nostalgia of it wrung him out of all energy. He made himself sit on that metal bench motionless as the heat index rose on the tarmac and made up a fun little game involving trying to see if he could get his hands to stop tremoring for five seconds straight.

So far he’d lost his own wager each time. He told himself if he could make it to five seconds then the nurse Bucky had sent would be a gray haired matron and this really was just a sabbatical to lift boxes and breathe ocean air and get Gale to laugh at himself.

Then Maureen Kendeigh climbed into the hold and squeezed past their cargo of medicine crates and plopped down right next to him, leg bumping his and breathing like a race horse. “I have jogged here the entire way from administration.” she wheezed, tugging at the collar of her shirt where her glistening throat was bobbing in thirst. “Sorry I’m so late, Major. Am I late?”

It could have been Bucky sat next to him: the choice of phrasing was so familiar, the damnable ability to force forgiveness for tardiness with a single smile so predictable. Gale found dread knotting his stomach at the realization it would be her, even as a warmth spread all over him at her sweet presence that had the odd effect of steadying his hands despite the panicked fuzz of his brain at her proximity.

Oh he didn’t want this. No, no, no. He’d like to think of Maureen very much apart, apart from anything but her heroism, not her wide spread stance on the bench beside him or the idea of her dropping her knickers and making him think of Wyoming. He preferred her very much not attainable in the deeper ways and very much not what he saw himself with when all this was over. Whatever she and Doc Egan had was between them and he’d held it up like a shield to keep himself in check, a boy's code of honor about not encroaching on his friend’s girl. Even if said friend didn’t have the decency to make said girl “his” girl.

But to have Maureen dished up to him on a platter by John when John must have suspected some of Gale’s appreciation for her professional merits -it was somehow worse than any dressed up floozy or the easy new intern. He’d not be able to pay Maureen off without insulting her. Or outing Egan’s intent. Maybe she didn’t know. What if Gale spilled the beans and she was as harmless as himself? What if—

“God, Major, did you sleep at all?” Maureen’s steady fingers were gripping his expressionless face and suddenly turned him towards her, one thumb swiping a tender crescent in his under eyes.

Gale’s eyes seemed to forget blinking was a thing, they grew wide and stayed wide at her inspection and the sandy wind blowing in from the tarmac stung at them as they dried out. “No,” he found his voice and it came out more winded than hers, “you’re not late.” he lied.

Once they get to the island, touchdown and unload, there’s then three hours of driving around the pitted old warzone to the aid station. There’s more foliage the more they go, less mortar pitted earth, but the increasing tropical paradise surroundings put Gale on edge. Maureen drives them to their unexplored destination as confident and recklessly as Bucky would, little surprise there. Gale can’t help glancing at her with unabashed amusement for the way she keeps her pistol propped on top of the steering wheel with one grip, facing out like a top turret for their hood, while keeping the map balanced on her thigh.

He cradles his own BAR with loose arms, ready to use it. Sure they secured the island months ago, but still, not infrequently some Jap comes out of his hiding hole, a cave, or whatever fucking tree he resides in and surrenders. Or, conversely, some of them have charged with guns blazing or sword drawn, deciding to go out and a bang of glory and take with them whichever hapless American happens to be nearby. That Emperor worship shit ain’t happening on on Gale’s watch, and so Maureen gets to drive -she didn’t have to beg like that, he was going to let her- and he shoulders the duty of keeping his eyes peeled for the next bush becoming animate and running at them, pulled pin grenade in hand.

“Some relaxation.” he jokes as their jeep lurches into another crater. If it’s not the bomb pits it’s the massive roots crawling over the smashed earth the Marine Corps call a road.

“It’s a reverse strategy!” she informs, grin wide as a shark’s and Gale could almost draw a little pencil mustache above that top lip and pretend it’s Bucky torturing him thus -hey, that might be a good mode of thought to keep everything strictly professional- “Like when nothing else works, you kick the broken thing.” Gale politely ignores the urge to argue about being broken, that’s not her point… he hopes, “You’re all shook up,” she goes on, voice raised to be heard over the rev of her driving, “and calm hasn’t worked, so why not shake you up worse?!”

He squints at her, fully aware he isn’t being chummy like she is trying to be, knowing he’s being a stick in the mud but he’s dying under the uncertainty, chafing under the pretense. Does she know? Or does she not? Five times today he’s resisted the urge to slap her chest like he would Demarco’s and ask her levelly, man to man, if she knows. “If this doesn’t work then what?” he asks anyway, sober as hell despite the comedic jostling and even Maureen’s joviality dims in the face of his dour mood.

“Then we’ll have to get real unorthodox.” she replies, allowing something close to annoyance at his attitude to seep into her own expression and Gale refuses to pull his eyes off her.

Do you know? He wants to ask.

“Stop scowling at me and watch for Japs.” she snaps at him so suddenly and so heated he genuinely spooks and turns his body back towards their horizon.

It’s worse than he thought. Worse than he imagined on the times he lost the bet with his hands and let his mind go somewhere besides a practical joke from Bucky and a gray haired spinster nurse as his companion. The aid station is on the edge of the new camp, far off enough to be genuinely secluded from both sights and smells of the navy station. It’s a tiki hut, thatched roof and swinging mesh door and lovely little veranda and palm trees and waves lapping up the back steps.

It looks like the sorta place people advertise for honeymoons and Gale stares at it with a 100 yard stare once Maureen grinds the gears to park.

“Jesus.” he knows his mouth is curling in disgust and beside him Maureen huffs in disgust with him.

She jumps out of her side of the jeep, not a shred of amusement left on her face. Gale sits and stares and listens to the roar of surf and the clinking of the cooling engine.

“Not bad.” she grunts under the burden of a crate which Gale should be lifting if he could just make his legs work and his mind obey. “But I bet it’s gonna be a bitch to keep the gnats out though, so much foliage around.”

Her hips sway like a tantalizing pendulum when she jogs up the bungalow stairs, her waist somehow accentuated by the way her arms are lifted to keep the crate hoisted on her strong shoulder and Gale has the perfect seat to watch it. How did he never notice the lines on her before she was doing hard labor? Then he recalls, she’s mostly been in flight suits around him, he’s never seen her paired down to collared shirts and belted pants. How’d he never notice the lines on that gi-

“Don’t make me drive this thing in the surf to wake you up.” her slap on his listless forearm rouses him to realize she’s back out at the jeep, standing beside him looking at him as he sits here catatonic like the mental case he’s showing symptoms of being. “And take your jacket off, you’re gonna get overheated being so formal.”

“Are you in on it?” he snaps suddenly as she grins at him over his first crate. He can’t tell if she’s mocking him or not but he’s damn tired of it.

“In on what?” Her face falls.

He can’t do it. He just can’t do it and he hates himself for being such a coward. “This.” he chooses vagueness and it tastes foreign and awful on his tongue.

“It’s a week out of the cockpit in paradise, Cleven,” Maureen’s own expression holds back no disdain for his pissy attitude, “man the hell up.”

What Maureen, Gale and five other technicians had loaded into the jeep and it’s buggy in the course of two hours, takes the mere two of them close to four to unload. And that’s even with Gale keeping a rapid pace to his work like a sweating maniac, feverishly wanting to stop thinking for once. His jacket and shirt are thrown over the chairs that are actually provided as furniture in the place and Maureen’s tie lays discarded on the accompanying desk. The rooms are bare but there’s two beds in the bedroom with crisp sheets that have only a bit of pollen dusting them and there’s a desk, as mentioned, three chairs in the main room and Maureen insists they can use crates for a table.

The back room is for the actual medical aid, and Maureen insists nothing gets moved into it until she can sanitize the whole place. So they stack the boxes in the main room and in the bedroom and when the sun gets lower they’re relieved to find there’s some dubious provisions for electricity in the place.

“I can get it to work.” Gale decides as Maureen tries flicking the light switch ten times as if to see if the bare bulb will grow a will of its own and turn on for her. It reminds him so much of Bucky’s brand of idiocy that Gale almost forgets himself and reaches out to swat her hand away from the futile flicking.

“Ok, then you do that while I keep unloading.” she insists, “Won’t be able to do anything if it’s pitch dark in here.”

So Gale drags a chair over and begins to fiddle with the wires tacked to the ceiling, risking electrocution so Maureen Kendeigh can see her way around as she tromps past him again and again in the same path with yet another crate.

He’s good with his hands. Excellent, in fact, judging by how one bulb flickers then stays steady, then another and another until the inside of the bungalow is aglow with cozy light: enough light for Maureen to appreciate his sweat soaked singlet and the way it rides up his belly when his arms are up and how it’s bright enough for her to scrub the exam room effectively when laying in a room with an insomniatic Gale Cleven gets to her at 3:00 am.

As it surely will. God! -the man is as impossible as he is beautiful, and while she doubted she’d manage it with him before, the sheer amount of fury she feels towards him right now leaves no doubt. She’ll shake him up. Like a Fuckin’ Martini. And he doesn’t have to like it, probably won’t, but they’ll both feel better after. “In on it” -he’s got the gall to ask but not the balls to spell it out, she can’t abide a quasi gentleman and so far Gale Cleven’s been nothing but the genuine article. Until now, now when he can’t accept certain human things about himself like fatigue or attraction, and he takes it out on her with a sullenness belonging to a much older man.

Maureen’s fine with that, she thinks as ogles the glowing golden skin of his sheened shoulders on one of her passes with a crate, she can take her mad out on him, too. And she’s got a lot of it. More than John Egan was ever able to lick away.

By 15:00, and some change to the second hand, Gale Cleven was still awake. Little surprise there, not to him, but even though it didn’t matter he found himself thoroughly annoyed and taking it out with a lethal glare at the vague gray ceiling, lit by a massive moon over the ocean. Wire and chairs but no curtains -an oversight about the furnishings. It wouldn’t have mattered, he knew that, and still the racket Maureen was making put his teeth on edge. It wasn’t Benny’s snoring or John’s drunken mumbling but it was a consistent *swoosh, swish* of industry that had Gale feeling a mixture of guilt and determination to keep lying here while she scrubbed.

It had not occurred to him she might’ve needed this break, too. Such as it was, effective as it was not proving. He knew she’d seen some combat in the beginning at Manila, maybe even worse than Iwo but long hours doing what she was doing now, where she was doing it, was no joke.

The urge to get up and help her was strong but then, so was the crippling fear of being around her in the dead of night and inviting any more of the bossy familiarity she’d tucked him into bed with. A magnesium capsule! She’d made him take three of the maternity horse pills and told him to calm the hell down as if he didn't have ample reason to be on edge with her laying a foot away on another bed, stripped down to her cotton slip. Of course Gale would cite war horrors if anyone asked why he couldn’t sleep but to be frank, he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t managing it these days and it had started awhile ago. Before Maureen Kendeigh glowed sweaty and luminous in the moonlight while gripping his cheeks and puckering his protesting mouth and plopping pills on his lolling tongue.

Thinking of it made his face flame with embarrassment for such a childish resistance. But god, her nursley familiarity sent a cross signal to his brain each time she helped herself to his flesh and no amount of berating himself while sweating in these rough sheets could dislodge the reaction. Closer to fifteen hundred than was remotely chivalrous, Gale threw off his sweat soaked bedding and tromped into the glow of light outside their bedroom, shuffling blearily into the little exam room. He faltered for a brief ten seconds at the doorway watching her undulating movements with sponge in hand and knees on the floor, white slip clinging like a second skin from the sweat.

He felt the sudden medical urge to lick her like the cattle back home lick at the salt block, a strange way of quenching thirst. Was ninety two hours without sleep considered genuine grounds for insanity? He felt like maybe he should be keeping a diary of these fevered thoughts to report back to John and see if he needed to get turned in. This wasn’t horniness, this was salt cravings. Yeah, yeah that’s what it was.

“You hypocrite.” he felt emboldened to tease and his voice came out rough and lower than even he expected, the disuse of laying there for ages taking a toll.

Maureen looked up like she’d been spooked herself, a slip and stall of her scrubbing, hair hanging about her face so unprofessionally he realized he’d never seen it in such…disarray. “Oh, the baby’s awake.” she grinned back and he felt an indulgence settle in his gut for her he didn’t know existed, “I see my magnesium capsules were a cure all.”

“Oh yeah, knock a horse out.” he agreed derisively.

“Your eyes are droopier.” she found a silver lining and as if reminded of the grit in them, his large fists came up and rubbed them meanly.

Like a little boy, she thought, watching him in the harsh light of the bare bulb, warm wood all around him the same color as all that sweaty skin and those skivvies hanging onto the lithest set of hips she may have ever seen. Looked as if one deep breath of that lean belly and the fabric would be goners, slipping down to the floor dramatically like a woman’s pantyhose in those unfortunate comics where that’s always occurring just when she wants to cross a busy street. Maybe if she could make him belly laugh-

She wished she knew how. She wondered if he knew how.

“Got another Sponge?” he asked and she was reminded why she liked him so much.

“Top crate, there, left, there that one.” She directed him with jerks of her chin until he was at the right one, “I’m using antiseptic.” she warned.

“I know,” he answered, dropping to his knees beside her and making use of her bucket to dunk his sponge, “smell’s been givin’ me a headache.”

Maureen’s mouth twitched at his tired grumpiness, more endearing now he was still putting effort into being near the caustic shit and the way his golden hair flopped on his forehead with his scrubbing movements. If his hips were that fluid, that rhythmic in cleaning a floor, how much more could she teach him to be—“Yeah, I’m sure it’s the anti-septic giving you a headache.” she snarked.

They ate sandwiches he’d gotten from the navy camp’s mess on the back porch, letting the sea water lap at their feet. A little stale but it was a much needed breakfast and Gale brought fresh water back, too, and a report that they were nice fellas and entirely too undressed for her to ever go see. That suited her fine, they’d be a pest if they knew a woman was up here and personally speaking she only needed one man for company, crate lifting, and doing the job well. And she rather had her heart set on it being Gale Cleven. Especially now she got to stare at him under the bright morning sun with a tropical breeze and more skin on display than at a swimsuit contest. He’d put on a singlet, as if to mark that a day had begun even if they hadn’t slept the night, but that was promptly sweat soaked and tiny nipples were pebbling under it from the breeze.

“Did they ask if a nurse came with you?” she pressed him between bites.

“Yeah.” he swallowed his bite thickly and licked at the mayo collecting at the corner of his mouth with typical precision, “And I lied.”

“Well, well,” she cooed, making him roll his eyes, “how’d that feel?”

“I have lied before.” he balked.

The look he gave her was both thunderous and remincent and she repented that line of questioning, used to distinguishing in her patients whether a wound was from wartime or stemmed from childhood. “Well who’d you say came with?” she asked.

“A technician.” he mumbled, blushing for some reason.

“Mm, someone nice and hairy and stinky-“

“Stop.” he begged.

“-not anyone they’d wanna meet.”

“I did it for you!”

“-if that makes you sleep at night, Cleven.” she humored him and like lightning, the back of his hand had flicked out and thumped her on the sternum, hard.

“Shit!” Maureen clutched the place, more in surprise than pain although he’d walloped her good and well.

“Shit!” He parroted in mortification, holding his hand like it was an offensive weapon.

“What was that for?” she laughed, “Do I remind you that much of Benny? Are you missing him that bad? Is that who you pretended was with you up here? Huh? Huh? Benny Demarco, now that’s a beauty to hide under a bushel-“

She was crowding him in on the steps and he was teetering towards falling off, too alarmed at his own outburst to trust his instincts now to shove her off without causing harm -and she knew it. She pressed her advantage and crawled over him with her teasing comments about Demarco until his long body had bowed so far away from her’s it was levitating and then toppled predictably into the surf.

“Fuck it’s cold!” he wheezed out as the embrace of the old pacific drenched him and rolled him about at her feet for a few delightful moments before he got his footing and rose, shaking his hair out of his eyes and grabbing for the steps.

“Sea bathing was in doctor Egan’s regimen.” she informed remorselessly before extending a merciful hand to help him up. He was slippery and shiny as an eel coming up and the grip of his hand was as strong as she expected. And still she found it intoxicating, the duality of him as he stood there pouting and bitchy over being cooled off. “Stay right there baby, I’ll get you a towel.” she patted his chest, right where he’d smacked hers, and went inside.

“I’m not your baby.” She heard him holler to her through the door-less porch. “I’m not your baby.” he reiterated vehemently but lower again when she came out with the towel.

“Yes you are.” she argued, “For this week you’re my baby, whether that’s a literal infant or not is your choice -and don’t start arguing, you’ve got to stop it, no one’s making you do a damn thing.” she insisted, hand raised and his mouth closed satisfyingly as a result, “You’ll be my baby. I know you already had a baby, no? Our baby? Shared her with ten other men, that’s generous of you-“

“-Ensign!-“

“-so I’m not gonna be your baby. You’ll be mine and you can find me something to be for the week.” she watched closely as recognition of her logic began to dawn and settle on him, “I could be anyone. I could be Benny Demarco, for instance. If that’s who you wanna lay next to.”

Gale didn’t speak for a long while, eyes off to the side watching the surf lap at the steps and she was still standing there, holding his unused towel. “Who do you want me to be?” he asked finally and his grave perception just about winded her in its raw honesty.

“You.” she replied honestly, “Whichever version of you made it here with me.”

“An infant -a baby.” he scoffed and she was suspicious those eyes were watery. And too delayed for it to be from the salt.

“My baby.” she replied, “Never had one before.”

“With respect ma’am, that’s Bullshit.” he argued in a fierce hiss, “I know you have, with John and -and-“

“I’ve been somebody’s,” she clarified, “but I think I’ve grown out of that. You’ll be my baby, huh? It’s not marriage, Cleven, it’s a week in paradise and hopefully some shut eye, too. So do you want me to be Benny?”

Those watery eyes let one single tear go trickling down his pink cheek alongside the rivulets of ocean water dripping from his hair and Maureen had never felt a single thing heat her up quite like it. “No,” his chuckle was thick and he sniffed, “not Benny. Maybe uh, God, I dunno, I’ve never had anyone.”

“Then we can make it up entirely.” she was pleased by the idea of not being a stand-in, although god knows she and John could sympathize more about the need for that than anyone. “We’ll be castaways.” she suggested, sitting back down on the porch now the confrontation was dwindling and in full confirmation of her suspicions, he sat again beside her without fuss.

“Marooned.” he disagreed, chin resting on his hands and a boyish tug pulling up the corner of his lips. “Something insane you did landed us here.”

“Mm, took liberties with the captain's daughter, perhaps?” she teased, daring to run a finger along those golden shoulders and collect a few salt drops. He shuddered under her but stayed put.

“I’m not playing fair maiden for you.” he retorted but his eyes were fond.

“Mm, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Maureen was still impossible and Gale felt his gut burn in a bizzare sort of drive to prove her wrong. He’d hardly ever felt this even with all the jokes from the boys, not even with all the temptations from the girls, it just hadn’t seemed something that needed proving. Every flea and salmon could do it, he never doubted when he got married he could manage it credibly enough.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones.” his voice sounded like he’d come to a decision and Maureen squinted at his profile until it clicked.

“I’ve never been married before.” she observed breezily.

“And I never planned on being married for just a week.” he replied.

“Isn’t there a film about this?” she asked, “Cary Grant gets stuck on an island and he marries his castaway but then they get rescued and there’s a first wife?”

“Yeah, I think so, actually.” he thumbed at his bottom lip in contemplation and Maureen found it endlessly distracting, along with the bird song and the ocean crash and the sunshine.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones.” she agreed then, settling back on her elbows to stare up at the sun and let it add a few freckles, “And when it’s over and you’re rescued, I’ll be the better woman and let Our Baby have you.”

“You’ll always be the best of women, Maureen.” he sounded like the admittance took every fiber of his resolve to say, but she’d heard it before in his voice weeks ago when she was patching him up.

If a tear slipped out the corner of her shut eyes and down a sun warmed cheek, she wasn’t going to make a deal of it, not until she felt his finger catch it tenderly before it dropped from her jaw and rolled it back up.

She felt her lip wobble traitorously and perhaps there were more tears planning to follow and betray her but the shivering shock of his full lips, pressed to her bare shoulder, stemmed the flood. Maureen held her breath and kept her eyelids sealed, an orange glow of sunshine behind them as all her senses attuned to the drag of his caresses up to the juncture of her shoulder, the press of his body next to her on the porch boards, the suspenseful absence of his hands. They were soft as marshmallows, those lips, and a stray tip of his tongue caught her clavicle as he worked his way up a path that almost seemed premeditated, as if he’d thought of doing this a million times but held back. Now he allowed himself and the assured intimacy of his mouth made her body heat soar almost beyond her endurance as he crept up her throat and onto her cheek.

A kitten lick to that tear track down her cheek and Maureen was whimpering from something else entirely, breaking ranks and turning her head to gaze at him, nearly stunned by how close he was, how alive, how beautiful, how blue. There were his hands now, one propped beneath her shoulder, the other cupping her cheek. Her lips were tingling with anticipation by the time he’d lowered his face far enough and brushed her mouth with his.

Maybe he’d done his fair share of kissing the girls back home goodbye, or maybe it was a talent given along with this impossible lips, or perhaps she’d wanted it so long that the final having of it sent Maureen spiraling with something oddly like obsession.

Kissing was enough for the longest time, the shore sounds and the squawking of ocean birds and the feel of Gale Cleven laying more and more atop her as his tongue met hers and danced. She scratched the back of that tanned neck like she dreamed of doing a dozen times, little scritches to his hairline that had him sagging against her kisses to the point of crushing.

She allowed herself the liberty of running her hands along his lean sides, taking in the graceful taper of his waist, the dip of his back, the sopping wet waistband of his briefs. She wondered if this is how men feel with a young girl, when there’s so much loveliness one wants to maul it and mark it and watch it respond. Anything to make him moan again into her mouth, wrenched and helpless and appreciative of her all at once, anything for him to hump his hips against her thigh in a manner so mindless he didn’t seem himself at all.

When he pulled away, dazed and winded from his own exertions, he seemed to have left behind all his inhibitions, stark need written on his face and only some doubt of what he was allowed yet remaining. “Are we gonna?-“ he trailed off, raspy voiced and trembling with suspense.

“Going to what?” she couldn’t abide it any longer, his demureness, “Say your mind, Cleven.”

“Do it.” he let out with a wince.

“Well I don’t know, Mr. Jones, you tell me. Are we gonna?”

Gale huffed and threw his head back, trying to regain some sense of mind, lip savagely pulled between his teeth. “Yeah. We are.” he decided.

“Then finish your sandwich.” she patted his waist and pushed him off.

“I can’t!” he begged with a groan from where he’d spilled out on the porch like a boneless dummy. “Not now.”

“You’re gonna need it, the water too, trust me on this.”

“Are we gonna -make love? Or go for a forced march?” he protested but lifted the canteen to his lips anyways when she gave him a look and proceeded to drink it dry.

“How would you know the difference?” she teased and he had the good humor to roll his eyes. If all went according to Egan’s plan, they oughta hibernate for twelve hours of sleep afterwards and she wanted him hydrated and ready for that. Maureen had a plan of her own, which certainly might lead to such a sleep, but it also involved not getting off that boy for love of God or money until he was as useless as a wet rag and the impertinent gnawing between her own legs was replaced by a good ache.

Cleven was staring at his sandwich remorsefully, “I can’t get this down, Maureen.” he declared with sudden finality and then, without preamble he threw it into the sea. “C’mon, Mrs Jones.” he held out his hand for her as he stood up, something close to an excited grin taking over his face.

He was so confident now, having come to a decision, and Maureen found herself naturally bending to his direction, placing her hand in his large palm and allowing him to haul her to her feet as gently as a dance partner. “We’ve got a bed.” she reminded blissfully into another kiss, anchored to his face by the persistent hands snarled lovingly into her salt tousled curls: this hair Maureen, this hair drove me mad.

“And we’re gonna use it.” he agreed, walking her backwards up the porch until he feet were skidding over the threshold, his tongue still sucking her own.

She stopped him there with a hand to the willowy plane of his belly, a regulated, principled woman to the last, and snapped the still soaked waistband of his drawers. “Off, you’ll make the sheets wet and sandy.”

Their sweat would accomplish dampening them enough in this muggy heat, they didn’t need sand and ocean water to boot. Maureen ducked beneath his arm and went back out to grab the discarded towel.

“I don’t want a trail of drips on our clean floor.”

Gale smiled softly at the usage of “our” -it felt right somehow, to share things with her. They’d been at it for some time, it came naturally like it had with Bucky and the few other boys who he knew would be something special and unlike anything else after this. It was a little bittersweet to know he was living the best days of his life, right here and now, enviable, irretrievable moments of raw connection slipping away with each drip, drip, drip onto the threshold. It was a heartache in the making and it was a spur for the moment. Back home they’d never understand, and any old observer would see nothing unique, but Gale could allow himself the rightness of sharing just one more thing. Why not cement it fully, irrevocably, as the closest brush he’d ever come to with another soul- he’d asked himself the same with Bucky, knew it was already an established fact.

Maureen’s lips were warm where they pressed to his back, the space between his shoulders, towel held to his waist. “You’re not shy of me, are ya, baby?” she whispered in his ear, thumbing at the still worn briefs.

He could feel himself this past hour hardening and softening, so many times in the space of so many minutes he was dizzy with it, the way his brain would have the upper hand and then, suddenly no, it all rushed south. Which now left shyness as the only real excuse for the way he burned and shrank and burned and shrank in turn at each of her touches.

“You gonna give me the towel?” he asked instead.

“Once it’s safe to do so.” she replied primly, in her familiar nursing voice, and he hated the shudder that tore through him. She stepped under his arm again, around him and into the house, and stood in the shade of the it with the towel spread invitingly, tauntingly. A whole yard and a half between then and she’d decreed no drips past the threshold. Gale’s cheeks burned as did his eyes, smarting with brimming tears from an odd frustration he’d only ever felt over a botched mission, an anger at not being able to bomb his target and make it worthwhile, a petty frustration he always felt before the cold rage of lost men fully registered.

Futile tears: Gale yanked the skivvies down and stepped out of them efficiently.

Maureen wasn’t smiling at him from the shade anymore, not even a smirk, she looked hungry. She looked like Bucky, taking in “a view.” Gale didn’t know ladies ticked that way -or maybe they didn’t, maybe only Maureen did. The blush in his cheeks ran down his chest and spilled onto his belly and his fists clenched without thought.

“When the man of the house,” Maureen was reciting some inane pamphlet she no doubt did not heed or else they’d never be here, “respects the whims of the lady in small matters, he will find the lady more submissive to issues of larger stake such a-“

Gale made a dash at her, to shut her up, and she fled from him to the bedroom, feet smacking on the hardwood and cotton slip fluttering up her thighs -his towel with her.

“I want you bare.” he told her when he had her, struggling in his arms before the bed, a lush friction where he pressed tightly behind her.

“Then sit,” she sounded genuinely breathy, trapped to him and he had never heard her like that before, it made him want to hold fast, “and I’ll make your dreams come true.”

It was just a slip, no garters and no braisere or girdle, yet still Gale sat himself on the bed and Maureen bit her cheek to keep from laughing at the modest way he deposited the towel on his lap, covering what she’d been eyeing and thanking her luck for. A cock as pretty as his face -now if she could just make it stand up fully.

“You ready?” she deferred to him as she stood there before the bed, being looked on with all the reverence and trepidation of a goddess by this seated acolyte.

“Please,” he nodded furiously, “please show me.”

It felt a little wrong to expose oneself in front of such an angelic being, curtainless windows throwing in the sun on him all golden and untouched, white scratchy sheets and white draped towel making it a bower of innocence for a brief moment. It also felt right, to throw off everything but what they’d been born with. Off went rank, obligations and expectations, as easily as dragging the slip over her head.

She tossed the article of clothing behind her for good measure -and dramatic effect- then noted with satisfaction the bleary eyed comprehension of her charms from Gale Cleven where he sat with his mouth hung so slack he was liable to drool.

“Incredible.” he muttered, husky and a little slurred, his hand raising without his own volition to beckon her closer, a plea, command.

Maureen swayed on her feet, nearer and nearer until she was standing above him, between his parted legs and she shuddered as he laid that broad palm on her hip and dragged it up her side in an admiring swath, thumbing at her belly and catching her ribs in his hold.

“Those flight suits of yours, they don’t…they don’t let show the half of it.” Gale declared, mesmerized, face hovering closer and closer until his lips were pressing against her flesh, right under her sternum, his forehead pressed to the underside of one pendulous breast, nuzzling as he became aware of that, bunting like a calf at her breast with his face, gone silly with access.

“Whadda ya think?” she giggled, the silliness of Gale Cleven gone stupid over making yams jiggle being the exact sort of thing that made life worth living, and being a woman exquisitely satisfying.

“They’re so goddamn soft.” he moaned around a bit of the underside, still hadn’t worked his way to a nipple. He seemed too preoccupied with their give and bounce to make a more calculated use of them. Maybe if men hadn’t been told what to do with them, they’d do what Gale Cleven was doing and rub their face against them and let them rest on their foreheads. There was a charm to this ignorance as he licked the salty sweat from their undersides with a surprisingly brave tongue.

The clumsy misuse was oddly effective for Maureen, what Gale lacked in skill he made up for in unstudied appreciation and nothing got her quite so ready as being appreciated to the point of foolishness. Her first conquest had been a boy at school who hadn’t minded tripping in his track shoes, day after day, to try to catch up to her on her bicycle, just to give her a flower or trinket. He was laughed at for his devotion until he broke the school track record next year, and Maureen was sure to remind him of her role in his success. They’d soon found a mutually beneficial reward system and Maureen had adopted that attitude as a maxim for the future, her dates and conquests may have been many but each of them in their own way had been appreciative -or else she was jumping out the window, damn the twelve foot drop out the dormitory.

No one, however, had looked quite so gifted by her mere existence as Gale Cleven did while he clutched at her hips and smushed her flesh between his hands like it were some fine dough and he was an artisan.

Discreetly, and it was easy to be so with his face buried in her bosoms, Maureen glanced between them at the tool she had such hopes for and found it, unsurprisingly, twitching and dribbling against his thigh, half hard but flapping about like a fish on dry land, the discarded towel no match for its movement. He’d need a hand, literally and metaphorically, and as she raked her nails through his blond curls and directed his slick mouth to a nipple, she felt him sag even further into her hold. Maureen weighed her next step carefully, trying to tamp down her own wants. She’d need to be sure but slow, careful not to spook him, or antagonize or embarrass.

She wondered if he even realized the same banged-up-head condition that sent him out here was most likely responsible for the jitters that kept him flopping. She wasn’t so conceited as to assume he’d not bedded a woman yet out of mere dysfunction, Cleven was a man of principle and strict notions regarding how the world should be, and he wasn’t one to build those notions on passing medical conditions.

“You like ‘em?” Maureen teased him, shocked at how hoarse her own voice had gone in the interim.

“Gonna make a home in here.” he mumbled in the affirmative, slack grin molded to the valley between them, blue eyes wide as the skies outside peering up at her.

“Got a job for you, baby.” she murmured, thumbing at the scar on his cheek.

“What’s that Mrs. Jones?” his voice alone made her mad with need, as did the saucy turn of his mouth so wonderfully foreign she didn’t know how she’d control herself until he was ready.

“Need you to lick a little landing strip, right here.” she ran her finger along the somewhat tacky skin between her breasts, sweat and his sloppy kisses having partway done the job already.

“What for?” Gale asked, hushed and curious.

“You’ll see soon enough.” she recalled how effective her nursing voice had been on him, and pulled it out now it seemed beneficial.

She had been right, with only a hesitant spark of aggravated defiance, Gale dipped his head and stuck out that pink tongue, lapping a swath up between her breasts as directed, flaming eyes locked on hers as she shivered from the breeze on spit slicked flesh.

“Again.” she told him, and his hands came up to hold her breasts apart as he did it again, and again and once more under his own direction until it was shiny and messy and his nose was gleaming, too.

“What’s it for?” He demanded once more, pink cheeked and swallowing hard as his mouth had dried out from his efforts.

“I told you, silly,” she replied casually, “it’s a landing strip.” and with as little fuss as possible she got to her knees before he’d registered the absence of her standing above him. “Gale, let go of the damned towel.”

She held in a laugh of delight at the tortured color he had grown to, veins running like so much ivy up and down him and a vibrant pink tip that matched his lips. Maureen wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look him in the face again without thinking of this drizzling little pink mushroom.

“You oughta count your blessings, Gale Cleven, it was a close call, my coming along at all.” she informed him soberly while his mind visibly vacated his body at the repeated sighting of his sputtering cock emerging from between the pillowy press of her breasts, “It was pretty touch and go there for a bit, I was quite sure in fact, that Bucky was gonna help himself to this assignment.”

“Maureen!” Gale thundered, except his usual imposing ire was much diluted by his quivering belly and hoarse voice.

“What?” she brushed off his scandalized displeasure with a grin, feeling cocky herself as he hadn’t flagged on her in minutes and was beginning to gush in earnest, “Bucky loves the beach.”

“Sure, Maureen.”

“In the end he decided I had what it takes.” she went on conversationally, ignoring the inhuman sounds that came out of him when she casually spit on his tip, the better to work her lips around him, “These.” she clarified, pressing her breasts to his thighs as she wrapped her mouth around him and sucked.

“Fuck, hell, Maureen! Sorry, sorry, oh fuck!” -not even Gale Cleven had expected his hips to fly up that hard and fast, knocking on the back of her throat.

She laid her hands on his squirmy hips and did her best impression of a Listerine gargle round his tip, which sent a shudder through him so strong she thought he might’ve climaxed already.

“Maureen, Maureen come on, get up here, please.” now he yanked at her hair, desperate for once and that was a pleasure to hear.

“What baby?” she pulled off him.

“Gotta kiss you.” he told her firmly, and hauled her bodily up by her armpits, rolling her under him in the bed.

Kisses -sure, Gale, kisses.

He was moaning atop her, wiry and flexing his hips against her, wriggling to get between her thighs and she let him, hungry and expectant when he slotted easily in place. He pressed his lips to hers ardently, then reared back in shock at the taste of his own precum in her mouth and on her lips.

“Salty.” he whispered as if to himself before licking his lips and going back for more. “What do I need’to do?” he whispered urgently against her mouth as she rocked against him and he rocked back until they’d frustrated each other thoroughly with mere caresses.

“Put it in, my baby.” she whispered back.

“First though, don’t I need to-to do- something? Something first?” he could barely think straight but he’d heard enough talk about this, about gentlemen and the necessity of some form of chivalrous preparation. The way discipline and intuition set apart an average pilot from an excellent one. Bucky had talked a lot about getting girls ready, making them squirm, revving them up, for all his apparent disinterest during the topic, Gale had been listening.

“You’ve done it already, Mr. Jones.” she giggled, reaching between them to drag him more firmly through the wanton swamp he’d made of her. “I’m ready, I’m so ready.”

“Oh fuck, s’wet.” he mumbled the obvious before willingly letting her guide him in, his body following her tug like his cock were a leash.

“Jesus,— Gale!” Maureen choked as he bottomed out in a sudden plunge, shocked at the stretch despite the gauging of his size. “You’re so deep, oh baby you’re a big one aren't ya.”

“You ok?” he whimpered, shuddering on top of her again and again at the incomparable feeling of being inside another’s body.

“Oh yeah, yeah I’m fine,” she gasped, “Hurts so good, you can move, baby.”

“You’re so warm.” he sounded close to worshipful he was so drunk off her, and Maureen spared a moment to smirk at the fate of man: come tearing their way out of a woman to begin their lives only to spend the rest of it trying to and needing to get back in.

He did try to move, she’d give him that. And while Maureen was more than half expecting it, still, it was mildly comical to see the confusion flash across his blissful face right as the buildup was snatched from him and he was suddenly shaking into the real event before he knew it, betrayed and euphoric all at once. The muscles in his belly and back and neck seized and his hips lunged in a series of uncoordinated pumps and she could read the panic in his eyes right before they rolled back -a begrudging admittance that this was nothing at all like the steady predictability of his hand.

“That’s it baby, that’s my baby, feel nice, huh?”

Gale didn’t answer her, too occupied whimpering with a taut throat and jaw clenched so tight he could snap a hinge like that. He was shaking worse than before when the spasms subsided and the tiniest pressure to his sweat slicked neck had him buckling to lay pressed against her, half senseless from the force of his release.

Maureen had always loved this part of sex, the pliable, bewildered, smushed man atop her like she’d sucked his soul out, when he’d rendered it up to her so willingly, so desperately, forcefully even, chasing his own eventual weakness. Long limbs aligning on top of hers, the hot pants of winded breath against her breasts, the hands listlessly holding on wherever that had last tried to grip and control her. The view from above with Gale Cleven was something additional, beautiful and glistening with bronzed swaths of sun exposed skin and the pale whites of his thighs and ass making a perfect little outline of absent shorts, his golden hair tousled beyond salvaging and that luscious mouth, drooling like a babe’s.

“So this is what Bucky’s been talkin’ about.” he mumbled into her breast, cheek smashed and enunciation shot to hell.

Maureen laughed in disbelief, “Thinking of him even now? Really, he’s going to be impossible if we tell him.”

“Just sayin’, now I know.” he defended, lazily rubbing his partly softened cock inside her with a shimmy of his hips that was quickly followed by an overly sensitive mewl.

“You don’t know anything, Angel boy.” she insisted and Gale raised his head at that, sour that she’d still contradict him after thirty seconds of vigorous pumping. “Let me see your hands.”

He had some trouble recalling where he put them but eventually he found them under her hips and withdrew them from their warm shelter to present them, warily. “Well, damn.” he muttered to himself, somewhat shocked by just how badly the shakes had worsened. “Looks like that treatment backfired.”

“More of a dose dependent case, I’d say.” Maureen corrected and circled each wrist with her hands and brought them up to her lips to kiss.

Gale’s face smoothed at her softness and a shy smile lit up his bleary eyes while she felt a twitch of his spent cock deep inside her, swishing about the mess he’d made like a dog’s tail after getting pats. “You have the most beautiful hands.” she informed him earnestly and balls deep inside her she watched as one single innocuous compliment sent him scarlet with a blush. “And they’ll be yours again soon.” she promised.

His gentle expression and bright red cheeks crumpled rather suddenly and before either of them seemed to expect it, fat teardrops had escaped the blue of his eyes and rolled down the crimson flesh of his face.

“Goddamnit.” he cursed hoarsely, in an absolute rage at himself, regaining his hands from her grip insistently to bring them up to his own face, hiding from her behind harsh fists that rubbed at his wet eyes like he could grind the grief and weariness out between his knuckles.

Unbalanced as he was without hands to support him, and legs gone jellied from his fast fading pleasure, Maureen chose to capitalize on it as a nurse would a brief state of insensibility to move a patient to a cleaner cot. Remorselessly she pressed at his shoulder and lifted their still joined hips until he tipped over, rolling onto his back beneath her. “We’ll have none of that.” she told him with loving adamance from her new perch, prying his hands away and pressing them to the sheets beside his head. “The hiding, I mean.” she clarified and he looked all of hardly past twenty laying there with wobbly lips and wet eyes unobscured, “I’m a very great proponent of crying,” she went on conversationally which confused him more but kept him too preoccupied to stifle his tears, “De-sanguination is still a highly esteemed practice, you know, it means to drain the body. One type of draining often triggers the other.”

“You gonna start bleeding me?” he asked wryly.

“Oh, maybe, you’d look so pretty all streaked up.” she teased and ran a sharp thumbnail over his pinned wrist.

Well, that got him hard again. Fascinating.

“You know what’s got your hands like this-“ she whispered softly, “-probably the same reason you flop, too.”

“Huh.”

“Pretty common.” she assured.

“Quit tellin’ me I’m common.” He growled, tickling her sides and she grabbed his hands, pinning them again playfully.

“Nothing common about you, sweet baby.” she swore, leaning down to kiss him and enjoying the way he met her strongly, surely, “Gale, can I move?” she asked, half strangled by the taut string of need coiled in her belly, tugged to madness by the bulk of him still resting limply inside.

“Move?” he was perplexed.

“I’m going to die if I don’t get some friction.” she whispered, somehow shy to admit that in the face of his innocent bewilderment, “God -please tell me someone has informed you women finish, too?”

“Bucky says they clamp up so tight you can’t help but blow.” Gale recited dutifully, “Which is what just happened, right?”

Maureen grinned wide and wicked before dragging her hips up till he was barely in, then plopping down into the cradle of his hips, making him let out a “oomph.”

“Maureen?” he questioned, half knowing already he had been mistaken but hell, to go again? “Maureen- I’ll die if we go again.”

“What a way to go.” she muttered, her pace atop him increasing as did the tortured gasps tumbling from his lips. His spunk was making terribly wet, lewdly sloppy sounds of suction each time she slammed down on his cock and the visual of her exerting herself on top of him was something so blatant and jiggly he could hardly endure the visual feast of it.

“Shit, shit I can’t-“ he growled while his trembling hands latched onto her hips in a grip that was anything but dissuading. “Maureen.” he begged her for…he knew not what.

“Come on Mr. Jones,” she clasped her hands around his face and aligned their noses, rubbing like a kiss with each movement of her lower body, “you’re not one to leave your missus needy, I know you’re not. Not when you’ve got such pretty hands-“

-a shudder from him.

“and a clever tongue-“

-a whine from him that sounded close to a wounded dog’s it was so lasting.

“-or a tool this capable.”

“Maureen.” he groaned.

“Baby, my baby.” she begged, “You’ve got what I need, come on, take me apart.”

Like he trusted himself for the first time since they began this endeavor, she felt his body bow up beneath her, his arm flexing strongly across her hips, his legs braced beneath her and a heavy hand clutching her neck, then he was driving up into her with a wild abandon she only ever hoped was simmering beneath that cool exterior. When she finished he hadn’t stopped, and Maureen found herself crying out like a feral thing into the hollow of his clavicle as the brutal pummeling went on, satisfaction drug out of her over and over in harsh ruts.

“That more like it?” he panted the harsher he grew, a hand around her jaw pushing her face away from his so he might see the damage he was doing.

“Yes, yes oh baby, yes!” she swore through clenched teeth, it had been too long and each blissful peak only aggravated her further, made her hungrier, that and the fact he was so proportioned as to be a constant delight just shy of pain, “Hell Gale, do ya hear us?” she gloated, propping herself back on his thighs to watch the shiny pink of him flash in and out of her wet sheath.

Mesmerized, Gale didn’t reply, but he dragged a hand up her belly and felt for the way it tensed at each intrusion, the span of his fingers an incredible thing across her skin. “Can’t believe you can take it, easy as that.” he marveled, his thumb straying and pulling apart her petals the better to watch.

“Thumb it right there.” she directed gently, reaching down to move his calloused finger over her bud, right above where he split her apart, “That’s it, ya feel that too, huh?”

“Fuck you’re tight.” his voice cracked and his eyes shot wide again.

“Are you -?”

“Maybe.” there was a wobble of blissed uncertainty in his voice until she stopped her movements and he let out a sob before he could catch it. “Maureen, please.”

“Please what, baby?” she was chuckling at him, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead, “I let you-“ he pleaded, still thinking things worked that way, “-now I need, please Maureen...”

“Oh you can.” she assured and his face lightened but his eyes stayed wary, “But just know, I won’t be stopping.”

“What?”

“You remember how that feels, don’t ya baby?” she reminded, gently pushing him to lie back and beginning their movements anew, “So good you can’t stand it, so messy and easy for me, so tender and much for you?”

“Jesus.” he wheezed, his lean belly caving in with his heavy pants, but she felt him throbbing inside her and his pupils were large as saucers, “You’re as mean as Bucky.” he whined, voice gone high in panicked pleasure.

“Thank you, but really I’m not.” she laughed, gently thumbing away an errant tear that rolled down his cheek. “Not quite.”

“Maureen, please, please you’re too pretty!” he begged nonsensically even as his hips began to snap into hers, invigorated and forceful.

“Hold it Gale, try to hold it.” Maureen gasped, staring down at the prettiest face she’d ever seen as his brow began to furrow, “Or don’t, all the same to me.”

“I’m gonna flip you.” he swore and a few seconds of inaction passed, marked by the slam of her hips down onto his, and she thought he didn’t mean it until she gave him a daring look and suddenly she was careening backwards, head jolting against the sheets and body laid out firmly beneath him.

“Goddamn.” she swore at the way he hadn’t dislodged an inch during the whole maneuver, suddenly pressed just as deeply as before, his hips working like a piston and his hands tight and strong on her neck. “Goddamn baby. Oh goddamn that’s good.”

“S’good?” he begged her to repeat, some dizzying natural force propelling him harder and faster and needier.

“You’re so good.” she was adamant as she hung about his neck and locked her ankles in the small of his back. “You’re so good I’m - I’m -gonna-“

“What was that about holdin’ it?” he hissed, smile cocky and smug.

“Bull ain’t out of the gate yet Cleven,” she cautioned but her hips had begun to lift of their own accord, a tremble taking hold of her, “But I’m close, I’m, i'm real cl- oh God!”

“Come on sweet Maureen, wanna make ya -wanna do it for ya. Give ya what you need, Mrs Jones.” Gale’s hoarse and sweet nothings poured hot and breathy in her ear and Maureen found herself locked and gripping him before she knew it, moaning into his neck as he moved in and out, in and out as she’d only ever dreamed of.

When she cracked her dazzled eyes open again he was panting above her, the clink of his dog tags gently bumping her chin with each sway deeper, lashes batting in a golden flutter as he too began to lose himself, slower, more drawn out and yet every bit as desperate as the first time.

“Look at me baby, look at me when ya do.” she pleaded, gently gripping his chin as his mouth fell open in a series of little noises of effort that went straight to her belly grown hot and molten with the feeling of him spurting inside.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh,” Gale was working atop her in pained delight, lips so smeared and face so sweaty he looked like he might melt at any minute, “thank you, oh fuck, thank you, sweet Maureen.” he chanted low and dreamy, again and again until he drove in once more and stayed.

Those clear blue eyes fagged in an exhausted ecstasy, his head dropping impossibly further with each ragged pant until his face was barely hovering over her breasts, neck bent and forhead slowly pressing into the swell of them. His forearms gave out and those hands of his stayed trapped beneath her shoulder blades.

“Sleep Angel baby,” Maureen coaxed, hand cradling the back of his dear head to her breasts, feeling a low lazy peace settle over her at the feel of his dead weight plugging her up and the lovely wringing out she’d just endured, “let’s just sleep, dear boy.”

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