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#the most yeehaw yet
simple-persica · 2 years
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New Mexico enchants his way into the family!
Wow, he's here! He's a very quiet and kind of standoff-ish person who really opens up to close friends and family, as seen with Cali and Nevada. He is the cowboy ever and is the token big brother of the western states because I said so. He and texas have a very long and weird history, so they really don't get along very well.
Has??? A weird amount of knowledge on nuclear science??? Kinda funky but ok. He is also a firm believer in aliens. Moreso than Nevada, that's for sure. He's still mad about Rosewell.
Some design things! His white streak is a reference to White Sands National Park! The patterns on his jeans and hat are inspired by Navajo beading as there is a large Navajo population there. His ring is made of trinitite which is a glassy leftover of nuclear testing in deserts. His belt has silver plates like Concho belts, which is a popular style of silver-smithing in Navajo culture.
ALSO!!
I'm trying to come up with a name for him but I've hit a block in my research and also want to hear what y'all have to say! If you're interested look under the cut!
So some base notes, he's Navajo-Latino and has a sun motif. The sun thing is mainly because of the state flag, I just think it's neat. So Sun-themed names are what I was going for but don't have to be the end-game.
But I cannot decide if he should have a Navajo first name and a Latino surname? Or visa-versa?
While doing research on Navajo naming conventions and how to go about naming characters I got a lot of mixed answers. And I'm very confused because a lot of Native American people, from different cultures and Navajo, said that if they're younger they might have a Navajo name as a way to show pride in their culture. And if they are older they would most likely have an anglicized name because they were not allowed to have a Navajo name. But New Mexico is actually older than the other western states, so that pretty solidly places him Pre-Europe and therefore he would most likely have a full Navajo name? But I don't want to completely glance over his Latino side either, so I'm worried I'm getting too deep on one side.
Idk, I'm opening the floor, if you have any insight or resources to share I would greatly appreciate it! <3
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Barnaby from last stream! he's. Yeah <3
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my heart aches for he/him pronouns.
they are just out of reach. through blurred glass, and i almost see them.
being a boy is fun, but is still a costume. it does not weigh as much as acting like a girl does, but it is still like looking in a carnival mirror. so much like me, but so different.
he/him pronouns are a delicacy i dont think i’ll ever quite understand the taste of.
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911-on-abc · 1 year
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fic rec
Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
https://archiveofourown.org/works/33809410/chapters/84050194
it actually made me cry like a baby I cannot recommend it enough like I was sobbing on the floor like hey bro what if we bound our souls together and found each other across space and time hahaha... 👀🤠
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cat-arsenal · 6 months
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The grown-ups (minus offspring) where I left off at Year 4. Moonstar and Clearpelt are best friends, and Clearpelt and Fruitthistle hate each other, which only got worse when Fruitthistle got together with Moonstar. Actually, Fruit is mostly ambivalent toward Clear now, which may or may not make Clear hate him more.
Poor Mottleheather has had a thing for Clear since they were kits, and Clear used to like her back, but it seems to have been just a kittencrush. Mottle has confessed more than once, and Clear just feels awkward about it.
Our former loners! Chasingspots has been nothing but helpful, and Icecube just showed up before I turned off the game so idk about him yet lol
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siobhanmull · 9 months
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my parents got me a harmonica for christmas and i cannot WAIT to complete my transformation into billy joel's piano man
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piper-2244 · 3 months
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yeehaw
how spencer convinces reader to stay in rather than go out
MDNI | suggestive fluff!
word count: 1217
warnings & tags & stuff: fem!reader, def some nsfw descriptions of spence, all around suggestiveness, fade to black
author's note: second piece of writing yayy!!! this was originally gonna be smut but i got scared lol. anyway please lemme know your thoughts im DYING to improve. sooo yes i hope you have a wonderful day and here this is ig! 😚
Sitting alone in your room, you tugged on a pair of never-before worn cowboy boots. They were most definitely not broken in, and you knew you were in for an uncomfortable night of baby blisters on the bottoms of your feet. However, life is full of compromises, and these were too cute to pass on.
Especially for a night of line dancing with your boyfriend’s coworkers. Who knew that FBI agents got down like that?
You stand and plug in your earbuds, choosing to absolutely blast ‘Fearless (Taylor’s Version)’ by Taylor Swift. Also known as the only tolerable country music.
Dancing out to the kitchen, you wrap your arms around your lovely boyfriend who was preparing a cup of tea, absolutely not dressed for a night of country conviviality. Spencer looks you up and down, a teasing smile playing on his face.
“Hey cowgirl,” he says, gently removing your earbuds. “Penelope has been texting me on average every 10 minutes about how excited she is for tonight. I hope you’re ready.”
“Oh god,” you laugh. “I wish you were coming too.”
“I know. But that sounds awful,” he says in his matter-of-fact way. “Hey, I do have something for you,” he mentions. You look up at him, and he runs quickly upstairs to grab his bag. He comes down and brandishes his very own cowboy hat. “From the times Penelope didn’t have you to drag along with her and I was her chosen victim.”
“For me?” You ask excitedly. He puts it on you. Although it’s a little big, it 100% completes the look. You look up at him. “Think I would make a good cowgirl?” He peers down at you, trying to tell if you’re joking.
“No,” He goes the serious route and you furrow your brow at him. “You hate the dirt. And the heat,” he explains, emphatically defending himself.
“I guess you’re right. I don’t really do well with horses either,” you murmur.
“You do make a cute cowgirl for the night though, even if it’s not your true calling.” He ruffles your hat.
“Yeah?” You smile. “It’s not too much with both the boots and the hat?”
Spencer blinks.
“Have you met Penelope? She always has a lot going on. More than this.”
You giggle.
“They’ll all adore you, JJ, Emily,” he reassures, stroking the side of your waist.
You had known Penelope for a few months, ever since you started dating Spencer. But you had yet to meet the rest of the girls on his team. You were definitely excited, they seemed really cool. But you were definitely also nervous.
Spencer, jarring you from your thoughts, whips out his very outdated phone that he somehow still manages to operate, and opens the camera.
“Smile.” You do so, showing off all your teeth. You move to look at the picture, and Spencer tilts the screen toward you. “See? Adorable.”
You stand on your tippy toes for a kiss, and he complies quickly. A little too quickly to not have any meaning behind it. Your eyes flit down, and you notice a slight bulge in Spencer’s pants that wasn’t there a few minutes ago.
You raised your eyebrows and looked up at him. “Can I convince you to stay?” He whispers, half smiling. You tilt your head.
“Maybe” you say shyly.
“What if I told you that the chances are slim to none that you are actually going to line dance tonight? Penelope and JJ always end up sitting at the bar, and Emily always gives up half a song in and joins them. Without fail,” he says. You purse your lips, heart beating a little faster for whatever reason.
“That could still be fun,” you reason.
“Not in those shoes,” he says, rubbing your hip softly. “I know they must hurt; they’re brand new and you’re already shifting your weight between your feet much too frequently.”
You look down at your feet. He was not lying. “You’re too observant. This is why you basically always have your way with me.” You exhale.
“By caring about you? I could keep going. I know that you hate country music. And no, Taylor Swift does not count. She’s an outlier. And she was born in Pennsylvania. That’s barely real country music. You’d be miserable all night.”
“Yes, you would know about ‘real’ country music, Mr. Las Vegas,” you counter.
“That would be Dr. Vegas to you,” he quips, bending down once again and giving you a kiss. You reciprocate, kissing the corner of his mouth. “What if I told you I really wanted you to stay? Bad?”
“Bad? I guess I’ll stay, if it’s bad. But you have to be the one to text Penelope,” you say begrudgingly. As if you weren’t as releived as can be. And as if Spencer didn’t know that.
He smiles and allows his arms to wrap around your waist. Spencer’s kisses become slower, you could feel every aspect of them. His lips, of course, but also his stubble. The air being pushed out of his nose. The hand swiping it’s typical resting spot, your cheek. His tongue delicately tracing your mouth. It all feels so calculated for you, so measured.
And you, on the other hand, are a mess, trying to keep up. Your heart is pounding and you’re sure your face is noticeably hot. And by the time Spencer leads you to your room and sits you down on the bed, its temperature has only increased.
You kick off your boots. He sits next to you, his hands holding your waist, ever so firm. He brings them up, thumbing the inside hem of your tank top.
“All good?” He checks.
“Yeah,” you say, head spinning with all the good chemicals.
“Deep breaths for me, okay? Gotta keep your blood flowing appropriately,” he reminds you, leaning back and taking you in. “Pretty girl.” You blush and his hands move to your lower back over your tank top, delicately brushing over in a way that gives you goose bumps. You shiver.
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You’re sensitive in your lower back. God, there’s still so much more to learn about you.” He breathes out.
“Good. I was scared you’d get bored, with your perfect memory and all,” you joke.
“Bored? The human brain is limitless. Your brain is limitless. I wanna know everything I possibly can that goes on up there. Everything that makes it feel good. It’s the least boring thing I can think of.” You blush and look down.
You lean in for another kiss, this time to his jawline and neck. Your hands slide up his stomach under his shirt a little and and you look up to him.
“Okay?” This time you ask.
Spencer nods. “Okay.” Your hands trace up under his own shirt, and you immediately lean in to kiss him, holding his chin.
All of a sudden he’s everywhere. Even sitting next to you, he manages to take over every ounce of your body. He’s kissing your mouth and forehead and cheeks, one hand is holding your face, and the other is mapping your stomach.
“Can we try something new then? If we wanna do and learn everything?” You whisper. One quick tête-à-tête later, you’re sitting on his lap, shifting your hips softly as he held your waist for you.
“I guess I was wrong. You’re gonna be an amazing cowgirl.”
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pedge-page · 7 months
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What about Joel having to spend a night away for work last minute and reader sulking about it when he gets home and blanking him? 🤣 Cue grovelling from Joel lol
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Late From Work
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Notes: I must be too yeehaw American because I had to look up what "blanking" someone meant 😂. Anyway, I had so much fun writing this! Decided to make him late rather than spending a whole night away because lets be real, she'd be serving divorce papers for that.
Warnings: brief oral (f receiving) scene; jealous!Reader, Stubborn reader is BACK
18+ ONLY:
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He knows he fucked up too. Big time. 
When he said he’d be home at the latest by 7:00pm and it’s now 7:02 and he’s just getting in the truck leaving the site. And when his call goes to voicemail for the 3rd time, and then the fourth time tells him that the number is no longer valid (he’s been blocked), he knows he’s in Big-Fucking-Trouble.
Doesn’t want to call Tommy up for help to coax partially because he wants to fix this own his own, and partially to save Tommy from your wrath you most certainly will take out on him rather than your absent husband.
He grabbed a bouquet of flowers at the grocery store (he’s already in the doghouse so what’s another 5 minutes added to his sentence) and is currently speeding home, a solid 15mph over the limit. Tonight isn’t even anything special: you had both just come back from a lovely weekend trip on the coast and were just settling back in to your house. But when Joel doesn’t deliver on his word, isn’t home for pizza and Pepsi, and sitting behind you while rubbings your back and belly for a quiet movie night…
Well, he’s never been late since the start of your pregnancy. Doesn’t want to think what hellfire you’re going to spit at him the moment he walks in that door.
So here he is about to walk in that door. He takes a big breath, not feeling this anxious since the he proposed to you, and steps in.
He immediately makes contact with you: standing at the end of the hall, illuminated by the kitchen light with your extra extra large T shirt stretched over your belly and dangling loosely around your thighs, hands by your side, barefoot, despite how often he nags at you to wear socks around the house so your feet don’t get cold. He’s thankful to see you hadn’t packed a suitcase, trying to leave the house with a “my husband doesn’t love me” stunt again. 
You clearly had just been walking past when you heard the door, not even fully turning to him but just having your head directed to the entrance the second he walked in. You briefly note the flowers in his hands before your eyes quickly go back to his. He feints an apologetic smile, heart beating so hard. You’re soooo quiet. The calm before the storm.
He gulps hard. 
Instead, you turn forward once more and continue walking towards the living room without a word.
You have a hand on your back as you gently collapse onto the couch. 
“Baby,” he says meekly, voice all tiny yet determined.
You pull your legs up over a pillow and fold open your book.
He comes to kneel beside you, immediately kissing your shoulder.
You do nothing. 
“Baby,” he says more clearly. “I’m sorry, honey. I couldn’t beat the time.”
You flip a page, tilting your head to read the fascinating text on the page rather than listen to your poor husband on his knees for you.
His fights with the sleeve of your shirt. Would you at least look at him? He’s holding the flowers still in his hand, big puppy dog eyes trying their best to plea with you, and with his irresistible pouty lips that get him just about anything he wanted from you. But you only lend him a sigh, flipping yet another page.
So it’s gonna be like that.
"Please, angel. I was tryin' so hard to leave on time like I said. They got the concrete all mixed up and it needed to be set today, was tryin' to get out of there, just couldn't get it moving fast enough, I'm sorry baby I really sped over here fast I can to see ya, couldn't wait a second longer—"
“Oh!” You gasp suddenly.
He’s started, but nonetheless quick to be by you.
You check the clock on the wall and laugh. Time had gotten away from you too. You slam your book and hoist yourself up, on the other end of the couch to avoid his anxious hands fluttering to your aid. You brush past him and start your climb up the stairs.
Joel is right behind you, a bit of hope stirring in him. Its not until you’re walking through your bedroom door—and slamming it right in his face that he gets the message loud and clear.
Perhaps he earned a night on the couch to pray your forgiveness. After finding a suitable vase for the roses, he puffs up his pillow, his back killing him (though he’d never say it aloud while you’re waddling around with a whole 'nother being in your belly for the last few months) and crashes down on the sofa.
He just makes out the light go off under the door in the bedroom before he too is closing his eyes.
Tomorrow brings a new day, and he’s gonna spend every second satisfying his wife. He’s deserves his stay on the couch tonight.
-
He did NOT deserve this bullshit.
It’s been 3 fucking days since he came home late.
3 days of waking up early, trying to kiss his beautiful wife and baby momma with sweet affirmations and praises, which you dodge and continue about your stubborn ignoring-test. He spent all morning cooking every single food you’d craved since your pregnancy started—waffles, French toast, cinnamon pancakes, toast with special mixed fruit jam you can only get at a grocery store an hour away, scrambled, over easy, poached, hard boiled eggs. All arranged so beautifully on the table, even going as far to put the napkins on the left, after you screeched at him a few months ago for haphazardly having them on either the right or left, and never with the fork consistently on top.
He thought he’d learned his lesson, thought he made more than enough up to you, but no. You breeze right by, making a cup of tea, and go back upstairs to your closed door.
Your sadistic mind had given him false hope when you hadn’t locked the door on him on night number two. He slept in his bed, but you had made a clear parry by slotting between the two of you the infernal pregnancy pillow that Joel had kept in storage since you “Much preferred your husband’s plushy belly and soothing rubs.” 
Fat chance tonight.
Every minute he wasn’t telling you how beautiful you are, how amazing you are, how lucky he is, he spends groveling with please forgive me, I’m so sorry, I’m such a worm.
None of it sways you any differently. 
By day 4, he’s given up the sweet talk and grand gestures. Goes for a “think like her” kind of mental approach. 
He tries to bribe you—either making you a Pepsi float, or even bringing home the famous Hot Fudge Cookie Dough Chocolate Gooey Fantasy Milkshake with EXTRA Rainbow sprinkles. But even as he temptingly waves in front of your little wiggly nose, you don’t acknowledge him.
He makes a big show to sigh heavily in defeat, leaving it on the kitchen table alone and trotting helplessly upstairs for a shower.
Less than 7 minutes later he’s come back down to see if you’d given in yet, maybe even telling him what a fantastic husband he is while shoveling your face with ice cream and admitting you were being dramatic. 
Instead, you’re still sitting on the couch, exactly as he left you. Of course, the milkshake cup is completely empty, sucked clean of its gooeyness, and there’s a little splotch of chocolate sauce lingering on your chin you had failed to wipe clean. 
A start, he thinks.
Still though, you don’t pay him any mind, scrolling on your phone with tight lips.  
He wonders how long you could go on with this game.  
It’s honestly a fucking terrible miracle—not even since before you were pregnant had you gone this long shutting the fuck up. But now its horrifyingly eerie, like a curse has fallen upon him and he’s doing everything he can to break it, to bring back your nagging and bitching and whining and crying because it would be so much more relaxing than this new kind of psychotic hell you’ve subjected him to.
He starts getting a little more involved: playing with your body, touching you softly with gentle strokes along your thighs and belly. You hadn’t flinched away, or tried moving to another spot on the couch. 
Which confirmed one thing to him: your horniness and lack of physical attention from your husband due to your stubborn mind was losing your mental battle to hold out against him.
So Joel doesn’t say anything either as he moves his lips over your breasts, down your swollen belly and kissing his babygirl in your bump. He mumbles, “Mommy is awfully mad at Daddy, think I can cheer her up?” 
The baby kicks as if in agreement. His gaze glances up briefly to see if you’re listening.
Your eyes catch and yours quickly dart away, leaning back and pretending to yawn. He snickers before continuing his hot trail of open mouthed kisses until your legs “shift” and “accidentally” part on their own.
He makes sweet, insatiable yet slow love to your pussy, licking a fat strip from your little clenched hole to that hot delicious center that is beyond wet for him—yet another example of how much your body clearly can’t ignore him forever.
But, ever as he brings you to a long needed orgasm, you bite your tongue, absolutely refusing to give him even the slightest sound of satisfaction despite clenching tightly around his thick digits pumping into you. Only letting out a strangled breath through your nose while you stare up to the ceiling, fingers folded across your tummy as if bored. 
He wipes away the slick from his mustache. Hell, even he can admit you deserve an applaud for making it through that without uttering a peep to his skills.
Hurts like hell on the inside though that you’re just that mad still.
He had hoped that being forced to drive with him due to your size preventing you from sitting behind the wheel would corner you into talking him, but even then, as he opens the passenger door for you, you climb aboard and slam the door shut without his assistance.
Now the two of you are on your way to yours and Maria’s weekend brunch. Tommy was also coming to drop his girlfriend off, so it would be a good time to catch him up on this unqiuely-pregnant-you madness.
You snatch your purse and hop out of the car, mood going a full 180 and instantly greeting Maria with a warm hug and perky voice. The two of you sit down at a little table way aways from your idiot husband and brother in law.
Tommy nods him over to the bar and Joel grumbles over.
“She ignoring you?” His little brother asks while shelling peanuts.
“Is it that obvious?” Joel shakes his head. He can’t even leave off with Tommy because he knows you won’t answer his texts asking what time you’re done for pickup. So he’s stuck here to wait for you the entire time.
“You try going down on—“
“Yes! Yes I fucking tried.”
“She didn’t like it?”
“Oh no, she came hard. Wouldn’t even whimper for me when she was clenching her little cunt around my fingers—” he says with an aggressive whisper, his pointer and middle fingers shooting up in the air with wild eyes demonstrating the scene, “—and her little numb twitchin’ on my tongue. Didn’t even fucking moan. She’s a stubborn girl but I don’t deserve that.”
Tommy shakes his head with a chuckle. “Damn. That’s just determination right there. Gotta give it to her.”
Tommy excuses himself with a slap to the shoulder, muttering “gotta take a leak” and disappears to the bathroom.
Joel wouldn’t mind having a drink right now, but know’s he’s gotta stay sober to drive you home. A miserable, silent filled drive once again. He glanced at his watch, following each tick of the hand.
“Hi there.”
Joel almost didn’t address the voice of the woman who had gentle snuck up behind him, moving to take Tommy’s seat. She’s probably a little younger than you, a nice kind smile, inviting and warm towards a stranger. 
Joel politely smiles back with a little nod. 
She offers a sweet “thanks”, a blush creeping on her cheeks before she begins to speak: “Listen, I don’t mean to prude… but I saw you come in and ...I’m usually not so brash—but I was wondering…”
-
Meanwhile, your baby is beat boxing extra hard today in your stomach. You can’t even focus on eating your salad and keeping up with Maria’s chatter about Tommy’s nose hairs all over the vanity. 
Your baby is smart. She knows something is up. You narrow your eyes and look around, finding Joel and company at the bar— 
Except the company he is keeping is NOT Tommy but instead, a gorgeous woman tossing her hair and flashing her pearly white teeth off at your husband, who’s giving her his full attention. She’s giggling with him, taking animatedly with her hands, lingering heavy eye contact and touching his watch as if looking for an excuse to get closer.
You forget about the massive planet sized lump in your belly as you instantly stand up, nearly tipping the table and all its dishes and cutlery over. 
Maria is calling your name but you don’t have the mind to answer, striding over like a bull towards the bar.
-
“Hiiiiiiii!”
Joel and the woman both jump at the harsh shrill of an annoying, high pitched, slightly perturbed but faking a smile, voice screeching behind them—the most beautiful voice Joel’s ever heard…and had missed so dearly this week.  
The woman looks over to you, seemingly startled that you had interrupted the conversation so brazenly.
“Oh, um, hi,” she offers, blinking off your pregnant belly and abrupt appearance.
“This is Joel,” you boast, pointing the shlump of a man in front of her.
“Ah-Hello—“ she smiles again to him.
You add quickly. “He’s my husband.”
“Oh.”
“And I’m his wife.”
“Ah—I—“
“Annnnnnnnd this is our baby!” You boast, proudly rubbing over that enormous swell of your tumtum so she can see in case it wasn’t the biggest fucking thing in this room. “And… you are?” You ask sweetly.
“Um…” she takes one last glance at Joel, his apologetic shrug saying everything then at you, your hard gaze burning holes into her head. “…leaving,” she says towards you.
“Great answer. I like you :) Bye Bye now!” You wave enthusiastically with a chipper voice and a deadly smile. She nods fretfully and pops off the stool, walking away like a threatened animal.
He just chuckles, shaking his head and looking down at his hands with a grin. “Ya know, she just came over to ask where I got my watch.”
“And did you tell her your WIFE bought it?” You ask, poking your finger at his chest.
He has to hide his crooked smile. It’s the first time you’ve directly spoken to him since Monday. “Yeah, I did. She asked where ya got it, because she was looking for one just like it—for her husband.”
Your finger fidgets slightly, expression drawing a blank at the revelation turning over in your mind.
“……………………………………………....................................oh.”
He rotates his stool to face you. You’re steeping in your thoughts, the confidence faltering just slightly in your mind at the realization of how grossly you had interpreted the situation between that innocent woman and your hubby. He didn’t even care, though. All he could think about was how his heart feels 10x lighter seeing you back in your usual, bold, daring, audacious self. All of your attention on him once again.
“I’ll admit, still felt good havin’ ya come to my rescue.”
You scoff, near offended by his words. “Well duh, you’re mine.”
“That right? Even these last few days?”
Yet another bomb goes off in your head at the second realization—that you had forfeited your punishment to ignore him to the ends of the earth.
 You cross your arms defensively anyway. “Well... I…decided.”
“Mmm?”
“That…I needed a back rub. But you clearly you can’t pick up on that on your own so—now I have to verbally tell you.”
“Ah huh. Sure it wasn’t cuz you were jealous? Couldn’t stand me being interested in another woman since my own made it clear she didn’t want me no more? Because my wife decided she couldn’t be patient and wait the extra 13 minutes I was running late before punishin’ me all goddamn week?”
Oh wait—was he really only late by 13 minutes? You could have sworn it was an hour plus!
“That wasn’t 13 minutes! Do you know how to tell time? It was over an hour—“
“Did you set your clock back like I told you to the night before when we got back from the coast, into our own time zone?”
😳
- - - -
Also this is how I see reader getting ate out but trying to be nonchalaunt about it:
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conveniently also my favorite shot of Pedro during a photoshoot
Permanent taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee
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bradshawsbitch · 1 year
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‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎» ‎𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮
⁘ amongst salt water skin and silken sheets lies insecurities and innocence, but also tenderness and a willingness to learn...
› pairing; bradley bradshaw x f!reader
prompt; ❝  well,  honestly i’ve never really had sex before and was kinda hoping you would teach me.  ❞ and  ❝  don’t be nervous,  i’ll guide you through it.  ❞
word count; ~ 6.1K
× chapter warnings; loss of virginity, virginity as a normative concept, p in v sex, no use of y/n, smut, porn without plot, creampie, hair tugging, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption(?) if you squint maybe, rooster is a consent king
request; by @diorrfairy. I'm so sorry this took so long my love 🫶
disclaimer; I was rather torn with how I wanted this fic to go. on one hand I wanted it to be how I wished my first time was, yet I did not want to accidentally make it seem as if this is how a 'first time' is supposed to be, if that makes sense. I therefore tried to make it realistic in the way I experienced sex for the first time, but still making it softer, and sweeter, and the way I figure I'd want a first time with someone you love to be. for me sex hurt the first like five times but also my first bf was 6'5 and he was fucking huge so like yeehaw.
tagging people who might like; @roleycoleyland @roosterforme @lewmagoo @theharddeck @seresinsweetie @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts
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Being with Bradley was easy. It was sunny, comfortable, and safe. The soft gaze of the aviator could turn your knees weak in a heartbeat. The way he touched you, the way he listened and understood you - and most of all, the way he never pushed you harder than needed to explore new things if you didn’t want to.
Previously, in all relationships you’d had - whether platonic or romantic, you found that people pushed you. Pushed you to participate in things you maybe weren’t entirely ready for, or didn’t wholly feel comfortable with. Like the first time you got drunk, even though you’d told your friends you’d rather just try one beer and then drink soda. 
Bradley, however, understood the need for you to feel comfortable and safe. He understood that you needed time to contemplate, to reflect, and to sort of turn and twist an event in your mind a few times before throwing yourself headfirst into it. 
So, when the two of you started getting serious, and you, with heat rising to your face, confessed that you ‘hadn’t done much’ in the sexual department, his amber gaze had softened. He’d smiled softly, cradled your cheek in one of his large palms, and placed a tender kiss upon your lips as he promised to take everything in the pace you deemed appropriate.
He wasn’t in a hurry, he’d said before enveloping you in his arms, letting you nuzzle your face into his chest and his safe embrace. Inhaling his scent and feeling his strong arms and hands holding you so delicately, you truly felt safe in his promise not to rush anything.
Bradley had not quite understood your timidness when telling him about not having too much experience. He figured maybe you’d fooled around a little in college with some boys or girls, but that you hadn’t had too many mind blowing sexual encounters. As beautiful and kind as you were, Rooster had a hard time imagining anything else. However, his mother had raised him to always respect a ladies wishes - however small or big that wish was, and he was nothing if not a caring soul himself. He always wanted you to feel safe with him, wanted you to feel you could confide in him, and lay worries and hardships for him to carry with you. 
Which was why he was perfectly content to spend lazy afternoons making out with you straddled on his lap, only sneaking in a squeeze of your ass sporadically - keeping his hands placed gently on your waist, only ever letting them grace slowly upwards to your ribcage and to the wire of your bra. The small little noises you made drove him wild, but he wouldn’t be the person to push you. No, Bradley was more than willing to wait until you asked him to touch you. 
However, as compassionate and patient a man as Bradley was - he was also a little insecure. He had never felt the way he did with you, and he was glad that you both seemed to be on the same page of slowly cherishing each other’s comfort. Felt secure in that this was something you both felt was something special.
Your relationship was not something that needed to be rushed, because both of you felt that this might be it. But one human can only take so many rejections before they start to wonder if it was something that they did wrong. Had he been pushy? Had he made you feel so uncomfortable that even after months of dating you didn’t want him? Or was it simply the fact that you didn’t find him attractive or arousing enough?
These thoughts swirled and tainted the most noble of intentions within Bradley. He so badly wanted you to feel the way he did about you, that it somewhat clouded his perception. Every sweet, bashful smile as you pulled away from him turned into a confirmation that there was something he was doing wrong.
Perhaps you were not a person who wanted what he wanted. He would be okay with that if that were the case, but as he pondered these possibilities in bed after a particularly nice day at the beach with you, he realized that the best way to go about it was to talk about it. 
He smiled as he reminisced on your walk, feet bare in the sand. His heart did double-time as he remembered the way your eyes sparkled, and the way you’d pulled on his hand to draw him into the water with you. Covered in sand and salt water, the two of you had spent the majority of the day in each other's arms (when you were not indulged in very serious bouts of splashing wars) before retreating to Bradley’s home. 
Which was how Bradley found himself perched on his bed after a nice shower to wash away the sand and salt, feeling content with the conclusion he had come to. The water was still running, as you were washing away the day as well, further fuelling Bradley’s thoughts. He was torn from them when you emerged, clad in a large, white, oversized silken button-up. It was rather old, and some of the buttons were missing. Your skin looked soft as it gleamed in the glow of the evening light. Looking at you, Bradley couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he raised his arms to signal he wanted you near. 
Mimicking his smile, you happily straddled his lap, making yourself comfortable before holding up a small container that Rooster hadn’t noticed before. 
“What’s that?” his voice was low, as if the energy of the room shouldn’t be disturbed by loud talking. Fingertips dipped into white cream, before gently ghosting across the skin of his face. 
“It’s to soothe the skin, baby,” you explained softly, massaging the cool cream onto Bradley’s warm face. He hummed in reply, letting his hands grasp your hips, running his thumb up and down over the soft silken material. His eyes fluttered shut as you carefully made sure that every surface of his skin was carefully covered, even going down to cover his throat and neck. 
“All done.” was whispered against his lips, punctured by the soft feel of your plush lips upon his. Your chest had fallen closer to his bare upper body, and the small container now found its resting place on his nightstand as your hands splayed on his pecs and shoulders. 
You deepened the kiss, your tongue curiously exploring and wetting Bradley’s lips before meeting his own tongue slowly. Bradley couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as you pressed closer to him, your tongue so languidly moving with his own, couldn’t help gripping  your hips just a little tighter at the small noises you were emitting whilst hesitantly rolling your hips against his grown hard-on. 
“Sweets…” Bradley rasped, breaking the kiss. Normally, you would look down and look bashful, but this time your lips traveled across his jaw, fluttering over his pulse point as you hummed in acknowledgement. As you reached a particularly sensitive point and nipped softly, Bradley let out a low moan, his hands moving up your waist before they skimmed back down to let them rest on the globes of your ass. Kneading and grasping he groaned again, not noticing the way you had stopped kissing his neck. 
Tensing ever so slightly, you sat up from your position, looking down as nerves fluttered restlessly in your stomach.
“Honey,” Bradley’s voice was soft “talk to me, please. Am I doing something wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable?” his fingers gently asked you to look him in the eye from their place at your chin. Blinking, a small crease formed between your brows. 
“N-no, never! I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you.” the answer came to you easy, spilling truthfully from your lips as you looked into your boyfriend’s amber eyes. 
“Why do you ask that?” 
“I can feel how tense you are sometimes when we’re like this… you always pull away from me darlin’, and I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page, okay? You can tell me anything. If I’ve done something, or if you just don’t feel like ever doing anything– or if I’m not, y’know, doing enough to turn you on–” he was rambling. He knew he was and yet he couldn’t stop; his worries and anxieties coming out in a way he didn’t want them to. He was almost thankful when you cut him off.
“Bradley, do you think I don’t want to have sex with you because you don’t turn me on enough?” if you weren’t feeling nervous butterflies in your stomach at the aspect of actually feeling ready for taking this step with Bradley, you would have laughed. 
“I don’t know… Maybe? Mostly I’ve been worried that I have made you feel unsafe with me. Or that I’ve done something to make you feel as if you don’t want that part of our relationship like that,” it was Bradley’s turn to look bashful. Saying it out loud always made you realize how bizarre some of your thoughts could sound. 
“Honey…” you smiled, leaning into your boyfriend again “I– I just… you know I told you how I haven’t done much?” Bradley nodded. 
“Of course. I am in no way trying to rush you - I totally understand you may have had other experiences with sex before that makes this uncomfortable and–”
“No, Bradley.” you groaned “you don’t understand–” sighing, you paused for a moment. Maybe it would be better to spell it out. “well… honestly, I’ve never really had sex before–” 
Silence hung between two lovers, Bradley’s brows raising slightly in surprise, a feeling of deep guilt settling uncomfortably in his chest. 
“Honey… I am so sorry. I never meant– I mean, I figured you must have, you’re so out of this world beautiful…” Bradley looked at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “I’m sorry, my darling, I just wanted to know if there was something I had done - I will wait for as long as you need,” he straightened up to place his lips upon yours in a soft kiss. 
Shaking your head, you broke the kiss, smiling softly at him. 
“And– I was kinda hoping you would teach me,” you finished your interrupted sentence, letting your fingers sneak into the hair at the nape of Bradley’s neck, tugging and twirling strands of hair there to ease your nerves. Again, Bradley looked at you with such adoration and love that it nearly took your breath away. His hands were back to soothingly rubbing your sides and hips, the way he held you making you feel precious and secure. 
“Darling…” his voice was low but riddled with unspoken emotions, one of his hands moving to cradle your cheek “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want okay. I’m not going anywhere.” his assurance meant the world to you, but you’d felt ready for some time now. 
Mulling it over as you first noticed that when the two of you had ended up entangled in bed, or on the sofa, it didn’t make you feel as panicked as it had in the beginning. It felt exhilarating now. It felt like something you wanted. Something you desperately needed with Bradley. 
“I really want to.” your voice was firm in its choice, and Bradley sat up more from his position reclined against the headrest to be able to place his lips all over your throat. 
“I really want you…” Bradley murmured against your skin as his lips skimmed over the parts he knew had you the most breathless. It drew the tiniest of gasps, followed by a high pitched whimper from you the way he spoke so huskily, so close to your ear, his warm breath momentarily dizzying you. 
“Bradley…” you mewled softly “Please!” Bradley’s head was spinning from the sheer thought of loving you like this, but hearing your sweet plea made his breath hitch in his throat, his hard-on jolting slightly in his boxers at the words. Perhaps he should feel some type of embarrassment over that reaction, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. Not when you were perched on his lap, clad in a loose fitting silken shirt, looking like the divines themselves. 
“You say stop and we do, okay?” Bradley searched your eyes, and you nodded, tucking your bottom lip between teeth as anticipation swirled through you. “Gotta hear you say it, honey,” Rooster smirked, reaching up to gently let his thumb draw out your bottom lip from between your teeth. That single act had your breath hitching as he let his thumb trace your lip. 
“I say stop and we stop.” you confirmed and Bradley smiled up at you 
“Good girl.” 
Blinking slowly, you took in the two soft spoken words that had drawn out the most sinful sound from your lips. “Oh, God,” you whispered softly, face heating up in embarrassment. Bradley gently shushed you, before letting his hand inch up your ribcage, his thumbs gracing the underside of your breasts. 
“It’s okay, little dove. It’s normal to react this way, alright? Nothing to be embarrassed about.” his voice was so soft, so soothing, that it made you keen even more, needing him closer to you. 
“You have no idea how much it turns me on to see you react to me like this…” Bradley wanted you to know that there was nothing shameful in the way you were reacting, and he desperately needed you to understand he never wanted you to suppress any sounds or feelings that might arise between the two of you. He wanted to see it all, hear it all, experience you and your love in its purest form. 
His hands wandered ever so slightly further up, gently letting his palm encompass the swell of your breasts in his hands, eyes flitting up to yours to see your reaction to the advancement. Letting out a stuttered breath, you let your head tip back at the sensation of his hands warming the silk against your skin.
As Rooster gently kneaded and pressed against your flesh, another breathy moan spilled from your parted lips. As he let his fingers gently pinch at your pebbled nipple, you cried out, suddenly feeling the need to move. You rocked hesitantly in Bradley’s lap, and another relieved whine left your lips as his hard-on rubbed against your damp underwear. 
“Fuck, honey… you’re so beautiful,” Bradley grunted out, trying to hold himself back and not grip your hips and grind you harder down on to him. He truly did believe you had never looked as beautiful as you were now, breath labored, skin glowing in the light that managed to flitter into the room, gently rocking against his lap. He whispered praises against your sternum as his hands slowly kneaded your sensitive flesh, his hot breath fanning over the exposed skin as the shoulder of your night shirt slid down your arm to reveal your breasts. 
Bradley took his time kissing and loving your chest, his large hands working up and down your sides, squeezing at your breasts before letting his tongue flutter over hardened nipples, teasing you as you let out soft, high pitched noises. Your brows were furrowed together, eyelids fluttered closed as you moved your hips down on him, panting slightly from the pleasure of his hard cock brushing your clothed clit every so often. 
“So pretty…” Bradley murmured before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, groaning at the feel of his lips wrapped around your flesh, relishing in the cry it drew from you, reeling at your body reacting by collapsing closer to him, a hand flying to grasp and tug at his hair. You were pulling him closer, and your movement was starting to become a little frazzled as you were overcome by the pleasure Bradley was giving you. 
“Brad–” you were gasping, almost clawing at the back of his head, not sure if you wanted to push him closer to your chest or tug him away. Squirming in your boyfriends’ lap you cried out again, whimpering softly over and over again as you felt his lips release the nipple he had been sucking on, moving to give the other some much needed attention. The cool air against your saliva slick skin had you mewling again. It was all so much, too much, it felt too good, it was dizzying and overwhelming, and Bradley’s hands were touching parts of you you didn’t know were sensitive and–
“Stop!” it was gasped, breathlessly as your eyes shot open, chest heaving before looking down at your boyfriends worried face. 
“Too much?” Bradley cooed, reaching up to let his fingertips grace your cheek. Nodding shyly, you leaned into his touch, face heating at the notion that you needed a break. 
“It– it was too good, I-I couldn’t…” you trailed off, not entirely sure why you had asked him to stop. There had been a pressure building and sparking in you, and it frightened you. The pleasure you felt when the two of you made out, when he touched you, it was tame in comparison. No one else had ever made that… pressure happen before. 
Bradley shushed you softly, licking his lips and smiling softly up at you “S’okay, darling… we’re not in a rush, are we? And if you decide that’s enough for tonight, then that’s alright too.” he assured you, thumbs rubbing against your waist. He couldn’t help that his eyes flickered momentarily to the glistening skin around your breasts, an unfamiliar feeling swirling deep in the pit of his chest at the sight of his saliva marking your skin. It almost made him groan with pleasure, seeing himself on you in any capacity. 
“No, I… I really want you. I truly feel ready, because I’ve been thinking of loving you like this for so long now…” you trailed off, again looking down at where your body sat on top of his, stomach flipping a little as you took in the sun kissed skin of his abs… and that dusting of hair that disappeared beneath his boxers. “I just feel a little nervous” you admitted in a whisper, not being able to help the fluttering nerves within your stomach.
“Don’t be nervous… I’ll guide you through it, sweet girl,” Bradley murmured, nudging his nose against yours before letting his lips slowly move with yours, taking his time to let his tongue taste yours, until your arms were once again wrapped around his neck. 
“That’s it… good girl, keep going,” Bradley whispered against your lips as you again hesitantly rolled your hips against him. Soft mewls left you at his words, and Bradley couldn’t help but smiling into the kiss, filing away every reaction to his actions for later. 
“Does that feel good?” he hummed as he gently gripped your hips, helping you find the right angle to let his cock catch at your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The silk of your panties was dark with your slick, and Bradley could soon feel it covering his own underwear too. 
“Yes,” you breathed out, letting your forehead press against his “it– feels funny,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as that pressure started to come back, even stronger now. Bradley hummed low in his throat, one hand making its way between your bodies to put more pressure where you needed it. 
“Bradley!” you gasped, body jolting slightly as his leaking cock head pressed harder against your sensitive clit. “It’s okay, baby… you’re alright, I’ve got you,” Bradley whispered as he kissed right below your ear, not stopping the slow but steady rocking of your hips. 
“I feel like I’m gonna– gonna–” your trembling voice was interrupted by your small gasps and soft moans, again taking your plush bottom lip between your teeth as the sensation grew stronger. 
“You’re doing so good, honey– don’t stop; just let go for me, baby,” it was as if you needed Bradley’s soft guidance and assurance, because as soon as he told you to, you could feel that pressure spiking, before it snapped and shot through your entire body. The pleasure coursed through your veins as you came with a loud cry, followed by small whimpers of Bradley’s name, burrowing your face in his neck as you whined softly and rolled your hips a couple of more times. 
“There you go… such a good girl… are you alright, doll?” he’s murmuring softly and sweetly against your neck, your pulse thudding hard and fast against his warm lips. Lips that have curved slightly upwards as you cling onto him, fingers gripping at his slightly flexed biceps. You nod against his shoulder, placing a languid chaste kiss to his exposed skin. 
“I’m– I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before” heat again spread across your face, and Bradley couldn’t help the way his chest filled with pride, and an unfamiliar emotion that stirred somewhere close to his abdomen. “Did so good, honey. Looked real beautiful for me,” Bradley smiled, gently holding your hair back from your face before pecking your lips. His hands roamed down your body, until his fingers played with the hem of your underwear. Snapping the elastic slightly, making you gasp, he chuckled softly.
“Can I take these off?” nodding, you felt anticipation roll inside you in stormy waves as the two of you moved your bodies so Bradley could take your underwear off. Bradley’s hands kneaded softly at your thighs as you settled back on his lap, his amber eyes searching your worried face. Licking your lips, you took in Bradley’s completely naked form. Sure, you’d seen naked men before, but nothing compared to the golden tan of Bradley’s skin - the ripple of his abs, the dusting of hair that traveled from below his navel to his pubic bone and– oh god. 
You of all people was aware of Bradley’s size. He was tall, muscular, slightly burly, and his strong embrace always made you feel safe - whether he was lifting you and dropping you into the ocean earlier today, or if he made a point of helping you reach something high up (even if you didn’t always need the help) - but you hadn’t really used your imagination to be able to conjure this. Resting, hard as a rock, against his stomach, you wondered silently how on earth he would fit in you. 
“Honey,” Bradley tried to keep from chuckling, smirking, or sounding too smug when he spoke “it’s alright. We’ll go as slow as needed, love. I’ve got you.” and you trusted your boyfriend, you truly did, but still - how? 
As a distraction, Bradley’s ever working hands had snuck upwards, the pads of his fingers now caressing your sensitive clit, drawing a soft mewl from your parted lips. “That’s it, relax,” he murmured in encouragement as his fingers gently rubbed at your core, letting his middle finger slip further and further into your heat. 
“Oh!” pitching forward, you rested your forehead against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder, moaning involuntarily at the feeling of Bradley pumping his finger in and out slowly, stretching and preparing you. It felt good, that one finger didn’t yet feel uncomfortable. It was when he added a second one that you whined a little and squirmed against him. His voice soothed you, and as he found a spot within you that had you gasping every time his fingers graced it, you found your hips slowly starting to rock against his rhythm to seek out more of the feeling.
“Bradley…” his name tumbled from your lips in a needy gasp as his lips attached themselves to the delicate skin of your neck. You could feel his hot, wet tongue glide over the skin, his teeth nipping slightly before letting his lips close over the area to gently mark your neck. 
“Yes, sweetheart?” his reply was murmured against your skin, his mustache scratching lightly above your pulse point. “Think I want–” you paused “think I want you now…” it was strange how the words rolled off your tongue, embarrassment filling you up slightly at the admission, even with Bradley’s fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. The soft groan that reverberated from your boyfriend's chest made you squeak slightly in surprise, your walls clenching around his fingers as the sound spurred on your arousal. 
“Alright,” Bradley withdrew from the crook of your neck, where he’d had his face nuzzled, to look you in the eyes, giving you a soft smile as his fingers too withdrew from within you. 
“Do you have any condoms, sweets?” he murmured, tilting his head upwards slightly to place a chaste kiss to your warm cheek. Shaking your head no, you placed a soft kiss to his warm lips, admitting to him that you had been on birth control for some years now. You momentarily worried he might ask why you’d bother with contraceptives if you were a virgin. You’d rather not go into detail about how it can regulate your cycle. He just smiled, eagerly chasing your lips for another kiss as his hands stroked up and down your waist - where your silken shirt had created a halo around your midsection. 
“Tell me again what we’d do if you said a certain word?” Bradley looked into your eyes, his brown ones calm and filled with a serenity you could easily get lost in, as his large hand gently held your chin. Licking your lips, you managed a small smile down at your lover as you sat straddled across his lap, his hard cock leaking precum all over that faint line of hair that drove you absolutely insane with want.
“I say stop and we stop.” 
“Good girl,” at your slight shiver at the deep timbre of his voice, your boyfriend couldn’t keep his smirk at bay, loving how well you responded to his praise. 
Large hands gripped your hips as you rose slightly to your knees, your own hands which had been alternating between gripping Roosters biceps, clinging onto his shoulders, or being wrapped around his neck, now fluttered hesitantly down his chest, over his abdominals and down to that tantalizing little trail… The sound Bradley let out sounded relieved yet also a little strained as you hesitantly let your fingertips grace the underside of his hard cock, following along the prominent vein that ran along it. 
“Should I—” you licked your lips, gaze flickering up momentarily to his “should I touch you, before we..?” Bradley smiled softly and shook his head no “I am embarrassingly close to coming just from seeing you like this honey… it’s alright,” a soft smile spread on your lips as you still let your fingers curiously feel around your boyfriends hard shaft, feeling the ridges and veins, surprised at the silky feel of the warm skin. Humming softly you settled on letting your hands rest upon his shoulders again as he again gripped your hips to guide you into a position he deemed appropriate. 
Bradley’s head was spinning as he positioned his cock against your entrance, gently dragging his swollen head between your slick folds, having to take shallow breaths as he heard your whimpers and mewls. He repeated this motion over and over, ghosting over your hole, alternating between stimulating your clit and the sensitive skin around your heat. Soon enough you were rutting against the underside of his cock, making him slicked with your arousal. 
“Fuck, you feel so good!” Bradley groaned as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, desperately trying to get more of him. “Bradley! Please, please,” you whined, biting down slightly on his skin, drawing a deep moan from his parted lips. He let the very tip of his cock slowly enter you before he withdrew again, sliding his cock up towards your clit again. You had gasped and moaned at the short sensation, and Bradley could tell you thought you could take all of him with the way you were bucking your hips, trying to sink down on him.
“Slow down, baby… I’ll get you there, okay? Can’t take all of me yet…” he murmured against your temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment before he again lowered you slightly onto his weeping cock, the very tip breaching your core. 
You were panting now, as Bradley stilled your hips on him, this time not withdrawing as he let himself dip slightly deeper into you. Eyes widening, you whined at the sharp sting of his girth stretching you. 
“Shh, honey, you’re alright, I’ve got you,” his calm voice grounded you and you nodded against his shoulder. Bradley had done his best to prepare you, and you were thoroughly wet for him - but still, as he gently lowered you deeper onto him, tears sprang from your eyes at the sharp sting of being stretched by him. 
“I’m sorry, love.” Bradley furrowed his brows as he gently guided you to look at him, wiping at the tears that had leaked from your lashes. “Do you want to stop?” he murmured, large palm soothingly stroking up and down your spine. 
Even though the sharp sting wasn’t exactly comfortable, the feeling of his warmth, and the feeling of being so full still made your insides vibrate with feelings of love and arousal - a feeling that felt rather paradoxical in relation to the sharp stings you felt whenever you moved. Ultimately you spoke a tiny no, leaning into Bradley, seeking his solace and his safe embrace. Whenever you felt vulnerable, or were hurting, you sought out his safety. 
“Being so brave, little dove… being my good girl,” Bradley cooed, letting his strong arm wrap around you, his other slowly moving downwards, gently letting the pad of his finger rest against your clit as he lowered you a few more inches, until finally you sat flush against him. Biting your lip, your fingertips dug into the skin of Roosters biceps hard as he shushed you and praised you even more, making your stomach flip and your heart stutter in your chest. You had no idea mere words could ignite such a fire within you. 
Speaking softly to you, whispering praise and words of love into your ear, Bradley slowly let his fingertips grace over your back, down your arms, over your thighs, your breasts.. as his thumb gently swiped over your nipple, you let out a needy moan. Gently pinching, he drew out another whimper from you, and your breathing seemed to pick up again as he rolled it between his fingers, his palm massaging and kneading your flesh. 
“S’that feel good, honey?” he smiled as you looked him in the eyes, biting your lip and nodding as you experimentally rolled your hips - scrunching your face up, you whined softly at the feeling of discomfort, which was soothed by Bradley’s quick, distracting hands. 
Letting your lips crash against his, Bradley groaned as he used both hands to knead and pinch at your tits and nipples as you rocked slowly on his cock. Gasping and whimpering, you tried lifting your hips and sinking down again, finding that if you did it ever so slightly, it didn’t sting as much and it actually felt good when the tip of his cock hit that little spot inside you. 
“Bradley!” you whimpered against his lips, his name slightly muffled. After the initial pain, you were reeling from the realization that your boyfriend’s cock was buried in your pussy, and he was letting you ride him slowly. Moaning, you leaned slightly back, taking in the sight before you. In your frenzy, you had messed up his hair, and his eyes were glossy with lust, lips slightly swollen. The setting sun was making his tan skin glow, and the freckles that had formed on his shoulders made him look all the more incredible to you. 
“Fuck, god, you’re so fuckin’ tight… feel fucking incredible, Jesus, baby… I love you,” Bradley’s eyes were rolling upwards as you rode him a little faster, his cock pulsing with every slight movement you made. 
“I love you,” you whispered, the words ghosting over his skin. Bradley let his hands wander from your tits down to the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading your asscheeks as you moved up and down on his cock. 
“Can I take over a little, baby?” he murmured into your ear, licking your lips, you nodded quickly, feeling Bradley’s grip on your ass tighten as he lifted and grinded you down against him. A gasp was quickly followed by a loud moan as he angled your hips ever so slightly, making your clit catch on his pubic bone. He sped up slightly, guiding your hips so they rolled and bounced slightly in time with his small thrusts, the head of his cock brushing that spot again and again, making you whimper and keen over and over. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bradley grunted and groaned as he fucked you onto his leaking cock. He was so fucking close, you were gripping and clenching so hard around him, and he was sure he was going to blow his load soon. “Baby you feel so fucking good.. god, this tight little pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock, wasn’t it? Was made to be fucked by me,” Bradley grunted as he babbled, that feeling he felt earlier exploding in his chest at your needy mewls. 
Growling, he took your loud moans as his go ahead to go just a little faster, fuck you just a little deeper. His one forearm wrapped around the curve of your ass as the other snuck up between your shoulder-blades, where he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. A loud cry spilled from your lips as your eyes fluttered close, your body instantly relaxing and going almost limp in his hold as you moaned repeatedly. Growling, Bradley bucked his hips to fuck into you instead of lowering you down on him, and your needy cries made him almost black out with pleasure. 
Soon, he heard you gasping, moaning and crying his name over and over in pleasure. “That’s it honey, tell me who’s making you feel good.. who’s fucking this tight little pussy of yours so good,” his words made your eyes roll back into your head, and with a cry of his name you came for the second time, your slick creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked you through the first orgasm you’d ever experienced with someone inside you. 
Whimpering and mewling, the waves of pleasure didn’t stop coming, it just kept going as Bradley’s cock pumped fast and deep into your wet cunt. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a wet sound that you found rather arousing, and your labored breaths and moans. 
“Babe, god I’m so close,” Bradley moaned, holding you tighter to his chest as he gasped, his cock and balls pulsing with the need to release. “Should I pull out?” he wasn’t all together sure he could. “No!” you whined, fingers tangling themselves in his hair. You’d never felt like this before. Your chest was swirling with the need to keep him close, keep him inside of you, you never wanted him to leave.
“Need you, Brad, need you!” you could barely form a full sentence, your words sounding more like whimpery babbles. At your pleas, Bradley grunted and groaned before he swore loudly, his hips bucking before his cock twitched and his release spurted deep within you. 
Feeling his warm seed spilling in you, your eyes rolled back slightly again as you moaned. Bradley’s whole body was shuddering as he ground you down against him, his balls tightening again and again as he released ropes upon ropes of his cum deep in your pussy. 
Sweaty bodies tangled together as you slumped forward against his heaving chest, your own breath labored and unsteady. Nuzzling into his pecs, you could hear and feel the way his heart beat hard inside his chest. “Love you,” you murmured, kissing at his sternum. Rooster’s large hand caressed the back of your head as you both came down from your highs. 
“Might hurt a little when I pull out…” he murmured against the top of your head, and you let out a dissatisfied whine whilst pouting. 
“Are you okay, honey?” he continued, and you smiled and nodded, feeling perfectly content as you laid in the safe arms of your lover, having just given him all of your love, and receiving all of him and his love back. 
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AHHHHH fuck this one took forever to finish, and i'm not entirely happy with the ending - but i hope someone might enjoy it still<3 please let me know what you think! i'm always open for constructive crit <3
special thanks to coley and em for helping me through my writers block and cheering me on<3
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soullessdianthus · 1 year
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐜 | 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚
THIS IS RE-POSTED
Author's note: Can be read as a continuation to this, but can be a stand alone. Enjoy. <3
Warnings: biting, smut (aphordisiac, arousal eating?, riding Miguel yeehaw, dubcon)
Word count: 1.6k
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━ No? ━ He repeatedly said into the nape of your neck. His lips still nibbling the skin, placing a gentle kiss. One of Miguel’s hands was squeezing your hip, holding you tight against his front, while the other freezed beneath your short’s waistband.
━ Not now. I have to finish cooking dinner. ━ You firmly stated, wanting to regain some autonomy back. 
━ Dinner can wait, querida.
━ No. ━ You repeated and for a second it seemed you won that argument. With slightly narrowed brows you kept stirring in the pot, waiting for Miguel to back off. 
After his hand retraced from the biker shorts you were wearing, he moved higher along your sternum and let out a hum. His murmur vibrated closely to your neck, making it tingle. 
And then, unexpectedly, Miguel squeezed your frame even harder in his grasp, pulling you closer, before he sank his fangs into your neck. The sharp and sudden feeling of piercing through your thin skin made you gasp. 
You dropped the wooden spoon on the counter as the warmth spreaded through your system really fast. What surprised you the most was that the scar he left, didn’t even hurt. At all.
━ Whatthe- Did you just bite me? ━ Miguel instantly took a step back, his hands returning to stick to his sides. Rapidly you touched the bitten skin, checking if there was some blood. You were surprised when there was no red gore over your fingertips.  
He watched your confusion with a wide grin painted over his square face for a moment. Both of you were quick to return to your previous activities as nothing more seemed to happen (for now) - Miguel sat back at the sofa, while you continued cooking. 
A few minutes passed and there was some funny sensation, slowly building up inside of you. You couldn’t define it yet, but you could tell something was wrong. 
It didn’t click with you when you sat across Miguel at the dining table and you rubbed your thighs together constantly. Neither when he held you by your arms to press a tender kiss over your forehead and your chest began to hurt each time he brushed over you. 
He hadn’t brought up the topic of your make out session again, after you scolded him off in the kitchen. O’Hara seemed to act too calm in your opinion, minding his own business. You could tell he tried to be sneaky by peeking at you from time to time, when you puttered around the “house”. You worked hard that evening trying to ignore the funny feeling between your legs. 
And as the hours passed it got only worse. You could feel the enhanced beating of your heart, pumping loudly and fast and the agitated work of the salivary glands. 
By the time you were going to bed that night, your panties were soaked. But before you got time to change them to clean ones, Miguel pulled you into the bedroom you shared, telling it’s past the bedtime. 
He helped you get beneath the bedding, before resting comfortably beside you. His every touch, every nudge over your flesh was a torture - a inflaming, burning sensation spreaded through your body. You almost whined once, but gladly managed to suppress that humiliating sound. 
But when all the lights were turned off and there was nothing but the sound of a peaceful night, the pain your body experienced became unbearable. 
The soaked panties clung tight against your inflamed skin, wetness becoming cold and irritating your pussy even more. 
Every, even the slightest shift of your body enhanced the very primitive need to grind over something, to ease the need between your thighs. For the last time that night you tried to steady yourself, to slow down the breathing and the beating of your heart. Incompetently.
━ Miguel? ━ You asked with a broken voice, almost whining.  But the man slept peacefully, at least it seemed like that. Miguel had enhanced senses, you could swear to God, he heard you clearly. And if not, then he surely could smell you. 
It was all because of him. By that time, you were more than positive that your unbearable arousal was his doing, that he had done something vile to you. 
You threw away the sheet covering you and the brunette, before climbing over his lap. 
━ Miguel, please. ━ You sobbed pathetically, your hips grinding gently against his gray sweatpants just to make the pulsating pain in your crotch go away. The man finally let out a loud groan. 
━ Mierda~ ━ he finally said as you teased him so delightfully. Both of his hands rubbed the exposed skin of your thighs, up and down. Slowly. ━ What are you doing?
━ Please, it just ━ you inhaled sharply, when he started to shift beneath you, bumping into your needy cunt ━ it hurts so much, Miguel.
━ See, how it ache, when you make me wait? Hm? ━ He said visibly satisfied with your discomfort, his brown eyes glued to your whimpering form straddling him. Miguel smirked, exposing his fangs as he dipped one of his hands between your folds. ━ Fuck, you’re soaked. 
He retracted his palm to his mouth and licked off your juices just to have a taste.
━ Sweet, cariño. Your blood does not taste as good as this. Does it hurt? ━ Miguel sounded almost like he felt bad for making you like this. But in reality he didn’t, you knew that perfectly well. 
You nodded quickly to his question, trying to show him how much you wanted the torture to go away. He smirked again and a sharp talon appeared on his pointing finger. He quickly cut your underwear off with the help of it. 
━ Then go on, suit yourself. ━ Miguel could feel your pulsating cunt dripping over his sweats, before you managed to slid them down his toned thighs. Then, he helped you to remove the nightgown you slept in and finally placed his big hands over your hips, guiding you to start. 
He had you exactly where he wanted to - on top of him, naked and needy. Fucking hell, you were desperate by now. 
You stroked his length a few times just to make sure, he’s entirely ready. But to be honest, you didn’t have to do much - he was thinking about it since dinner. Miguel was waiting patiently as he always does. Usually.
You leaned slightly over his broad torso and positioned his cock at your entrance. You bit down on your lower lip, when you slowly sank down. No matter how horny or prepared you were, the stretch was always a bit painful. So you took a minute to relax with him already buried inside of you. 
━ Look at you ━ his fingertips caressed the curves of your hips as you breathed heavily on top of him, your shoulders shaking. ━ So eager. 
The thought of that tickling discomfort going away made you more optimistic and you started to sway your hips. Just the feeling of the fullness inside of you, made your mouth water. 
Miguel squeezed your hips and guided you into the right way to ride him. You slowly began whimpering, when his cock rubbed something inside of your fluttering walls.
Slowly you became a whining mess, chasing after the sweet release. Your pubic mound and his crotch was covered in your sticky, cold arousal, making a mess. 
There was a feeling of disgust within you. A feeling of repulsion towards yourself, because you enjoyed riding him so much. Whatever was in his venom, made you focus on the glorious feeling of him stuffing your cunt and reaching your orgasm. There was no other thought on your mind. 
Miguel kept staring at you, savoring the sight in front of him. Your pretty eyes half-closed, lips plump and mouth slightly opened. You rested your hand over his strong arms as you bounced on his swollen shaft. Your perky breasts moving vividly along within the rhythm.
It wasn’t long enough before he started groaning too. Miguel O’Hara was fucking delighted with his girl. 
━ Yeah, that’s it, good girl ━ O’Hara praised you, licking his own lips, when you clenched around him few times. He could tell you were close. ━ Dios mío~.
By that time you were a moaning mess, only his arms keeping you still in vertical position. Your legs began to feel wobbly, but the divine feeling rutting in your lower abdomen was just too good to abandon.
Soon after, you shortened your breaths and something inside of your belly bursted - warmth spreading up along the spine, blinding you with pleasure, your pussy squeezing Miguel’s shaft mercilessly. 
Brunette digged his fingers into your hips so hard, that it certainly would leave bruises. He tried keeping his cool, resisting the urge to fill you to the brim right then. Miguel watched as the pleasure twisted your face, making your brows bent downwards and a few shameful moans escaped your lips. 
Your spine arched and for a moment you saw stars, but when you began steading after your sweet high, Miguel smoothly and quickly tossed you beneath him on the bed. 
He was already pressing his body on top of yours - legs wide open, resting on both sides of his hips, chest to chest. 
You stared at him with glossy eyes wide open, waiting for an answer. When he noticed how clueless you were, Miguel laughed. 
━ What? Didn’t think we would end now, didn’t you? I haven't finished yet.
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Tag list: @kellhems @alicefallsintotherabbithole @bigmood-myman @freader (let me know if anyone wants to be added to the list for Miguel)
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holllandtrash · 2 years
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secret admin | daniel ricciardo social media au
pairing: third driver danny ric x reader
admin loves daniel but he has a girlfriend, he jokes and claims that gf and admin are the same person...but what if it's not a joke anymore?
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redbullracing
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 416,088 others
tagged: danielricciardo
redbullracing me when the boss man tells me i'm not allowed to post thirst traps of drivers hands on social media
view all 4,711 comments
danielricciardo yeah stick it to the man
landonorris red bull admin about to lose their job
sebstroll why do i feel like red bull admin is on THIN ICE
redbullracing because admin IS on thin ice 🥶🥶
itsnotcharles admin has a crush on daniel and is quite literally risking their job for it
liked by redbullracing
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yourusername
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liked by yourbestfriend and 368 others
yourusername topic is: I❤️NY
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yourbestfriend ohhh she finally posts the mystery man
yourusername 😉😉😉
f1wagupdates
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liked by paddockgf, hamiltonn44 and 6,792 others
f1wagupdates Daniel Ricciardo seen in NYC with a new girl attached to his hip! No name yet but they must be serious if he brings her to the states weeks before COTA 🤔 leave your thoughts in the comments!
view all 318 comments
ghostlewis rip red bull admin, hope she's taking the news okay
gaslygal and here lies the red bull admin x danny ric romance 😥 gonna miss those interactions
paddockgf watch as red bull admin stops posting about danny ric now
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redbullracing added to their story
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yourusername
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liked by chloestroll, yourbestfriend and 415 others
yourusername tonight
view all 26 comments
yourbestfriend how long are you in NY for??
yourusername idk man i just go where the job takes me
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redbullracing
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liked by landonorris, f1 and 571,993 others
tagged: danielricciardo
redbullracing save a horse ride a da- sorry, ride a cowboy
view all 67,880 comments
danielricciardo yeehaw baby
paddockgf sorRRY?? RIDE A DANIEL? admin is openly flirting with him on social media now
landonorris woah admin keep it g-rated
redbullracing just close your eyes young one
yourusername 🥵🥵🥵
liked by pierregasly and landonorris
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danielricciardo
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liked by redbullracing, pierregasly and 611,935 others
danielricciardo texas photo dump (did i do it right? pierregasly)
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pierregasly 👌🏽👌🏽
hamiltonstire how is it that hes not even driving and he's still the most popular guy in the paddock
landonorris whos the girl
danielricciardo rbr admin landonorris pretty sure you shouldn't be kissing red bull's admin danielricciardo i do what i want
redbullracing danny ric ladies and gentlemen, everyone's (my) favorite cowboy
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redbullracing added to their story
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danielricciardo
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liked by yourusername, redbullracing and 488,913 others
tagged: redbullracing
danielricciardo black and white
tracktalk admin is on a date with danny ric !!!!!! the jacket, the hat!! it's all the same as red bulls story post 🥺🥺
paddockgf wait okay maybe that Marina girl on twitter was right, this girl sort of looks like yourusername
landonorris she kind of looks familar, have i seen her around the paddock before?
danielricciardo are you dating the rbr admin too?
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yourusername added to their story
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danielricciardo
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liked by yourusername, redbullracing and 613,892 others
tagged: yourusername
danielricciardo great day for a birthday
view all 18,992 comments
redbullracing why does she look familiar
danielricciardo have you looked in the mirror recently?
yourusername i love you thank you
landonorris happy birthday yourusername i also love you
danielricciardo are you flirting with the red bull admin? on social media? landonorris i learn from the best
paddockgf YAAAA IT'S CONFIRMED
russellstires someone tell the fbi to hire that marina girl
liked by redbullracing and danielricciardo
requests are open
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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months
Note
Knight König who, after bravelly defending the castle alone and saving all the beautiful young maidens, is now *gasp* alone with them!! You and the rest of the young ladies are not even married yet and this whole horror of a siege came :(( you had to be locked inside the maiden tower with the other ladies, praying to the gods that someone strong would defend you, and here he was!! The giant knight from the north from whom you were always herded away 'because a brute like him has no business with fine young ladies like yourselves' :((
Imagine König who is for the time being the only male in the small castle, the foe has been defeated but any kind of help will take days to arrive :( During the fighting his mind was on slaying all the enemies to defend the flock of the frightened ladies but now...??
He's the only male among a dozen of maidens!! And these poor does are so scared in their tower on comfy beds of furs with all the supplies...so many warm, soft bodies to keep him warm and 'aid him to help his wounds', so many broad hips and breasts to grab and squeeze for comfort...oh and they are so ready to share all the supplies with him!!
I mean...who's to say that a war hero doesn't deserve something good too? :D
GFDFSSSS first I was like "gangbang medieval style yeehaw let's gooo" but then I had another quick idea (in all honesty writing gangbangs make me blush furiously lmao I'm weak!)
CW: Fear of SA, mention of blood, boners galore, dubcon groping, period typical attitudes, gender roles etc.
Knight!König asking you to wash him (because he was seated next to you at this one feast and now he's obsessed...)
König, who never had time for women because he was always on duty, whose best chances for a wife were an old widow or some soiled woman, whatever that meant... Probably some lowly lady, for a lowly knight like him. His family must hate him because they keep him from having even that: instead, he gets shipped off to this outpost of a castle that houses hundreds of soldiers and only a few women. Even they are kept under lock and key most of the time, and it's no wonder... A man like him shouldn't even be dreaming of dipping his dick in the pretty soft things of the Maiden’s tower.
König, who even to his own surprise, finds himself victorious after weeks of siege. Who's left completely unchecked and alone with a flock of scared fawns, poor does who are now gathering together for warmth and safety. They only have tiny daggers and iron scissors as their weapons against an armed knight, knowing they’re not always safe even from their own men – especially after a battle.
Even the strongest, most valiant knights get tired during a siege, turning into starved animals after a few weeks. A soldier fresh from war is the worst thing, having his cock up after bloodying his sword, they usually need to have a woman as soon as possible. A victorious knight, finding himself winning against all the odds, would surely prefer to fuck every single one of the soft cunts locked up in the women's tower...
So König, who batters the door and orders the frightened women to lift the baulk, only gets screams as an answer. They finally open it when he says he's tired after a fight and only wants to rest for a bit, puts on his most charming smile as the huge wooden door creaks open, and meets the ladies with a wide grin despite having blood all over him, stands proudly in his full height with his sword still drawn, a path of entrails and cut limbs behind him – why are they still screaming? He saved them! He should be given a royal welcome!
König, who finally gets the women to calm down a little when they notice he is not about to rape them on sight, who wipes his sword with one of their finest, freshly dyed wools (rude!). Who sheathes his weapon and smiles again, suggesting that they help him out of his plate and give him a wash – he’s earned that much, no?
König, who eats from their bowls as if he has never even seen food, who gawks at their tapestries with curiosity, who tries to stare down their necklines and catch a sight of those beautiful, round, plush tits. Most women quickly rush to heat the water to escape the possible groping about to ensue, while you are left with the task of getting him out of his armor.
The straps are small and endless, the armor consists of dozens of different parts, and he just keeps on grinning widely while you’re at it, giving you odd compliments and passages of courtly love with his mouth full of food. Some of his ramblings are straight out of a troubadour’s song, but you don’t believe a word he says, especially when his heated stare is fixed on your exposed neck, the collarbones so frail, the cascading wool that reveals your wrists as you try to pry your way under the heavy, bloodied pauldron.
Of course he remembers you, down to the minutest detail because he got to feed and take care of you at last winter's great feast... Someone had fucked up and seated you next to him in their error, and he heedily took advantage of the situation. He even managed to have a grope at you when the lords and ladies weren’t watching because they were so drunk.
He was drunk too, intoxicated by the strong ale and the shy stares you granted him. You didn’t do a thing when he pulled you closer and practically fed you some deer off your shared plate, tried if you'd fancy a date or a sip of wine while keeping you tightly tucked in his lap. He couldn’t get enough of you: your tiny gasp when you felt him grow hard, your whimper when he stole a soft squeeze of your tit… Your shy ghost of a smile as you demurely called him “Sir” and told him to stop before he gets you both into trouble. 
Ever since that night, he has dreamed of you when pulling out his leaking cock. Sinned until he felt embarrassed to go to the chapel and yet again confess that he has defiled himself with his hand and thoughts of you. Ever since that night, he has wondered whether you are giving those whimpers to someone else nowadays…
But here you are, in the tower, taking off his plates and using all your strength to get him out of his chainmail. Why haven’t you been married off yet? Why aren't you making blankets and throws at some fancy lord's castle by now? You have the perfect hips for delivery, it's practically a sin to keep a woman like you locked up in a military fortress…
And polite curtsies and shy, downcast eyes won't save you now, you know that.
How can you say no to a knight, ordering you to give him a wash? “Do him the honor,” he says, while anyone can see he’s already hard.
There’s nothing the others can do but put up a curtain and leave you two to your featherlight privacy. He doesn’t even bother to undress behind it, simply flaunts that monstrous thing between his legs for everyone to see before giving you the honor of strolling to the steaming bath. A soft silence fills the tower as the knight, tall as a legend, hairy as a beast, climbs into the small wooden tub with a grunted sigh.
You, the maiden he picked, can only look in horror as he grows even harder under the hot water. The thick erection soon juts above the surface, the dark curls framing the base of his cock now floating lusciously underwater, the dark hair covering his full balls, too. Either he's just big everywhere or then he's been too busy during the weeks of the siege... The amount of times you've seen him abstain from meat in this castle is ridiculous, and you always wondered if he ate fish because he liked it or because he had defiled himself in his lust.
He's an animal, but having a woman is not a sin as foul as throwing his seed on the ground... And here he is, strong thighs spreading as far as they can go to give room to the astounding erection he’s having just from the prospect of your touch.
The knight leans back in the tub, looks at you with a drowsy, soft smile, and tells you not to be afraid. The thick, throaty voice leaves your knees completely weak.
“Ach so... Have you ever touched one of these before?”
977 notes · View notes
suuooe · 3 months
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patched || kaji ren x gn!reader
✧ i just wanted to write vulnerable kaji okay he deserves some hugs.
✧ content: established relationship, spoilers for kaji's backstory (sorta, it ain't said but it's there between the lines), fluff, minor descriptions of wounds
✧ a/n: i will and shall make every windbre boy soft or vulnerable or both. so have some soft kaji y'all before his official introduction to the anime this week yeehaw- it's also close to 1 am when I'm posting this so if it's rushed towards the end. no it's not.
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Hiragi Toma rarely came over to your house.
Instead, you would just be one of the many people he would wave too when out on patrol, just with a deeper friendship - if he's not particularly busy you two would even strike a conversation, just to catch up.
But Hiragi Toma rarely came knocking on your front door.
So when you hear the firm, yet somehow gentle clear knocks on your front door - only to open it up to see Hiragi's bloodied knuckles? You can only answer with a confused glance back and forth between his embarrassed expression and the fist that is still raised up, ready to knock on your door that is very much open.
"... I had to knock him out."
Ah.
"Is he okay?" is the only thing you ask as you turn towards the side to reach for the first aid kit that you have stored next to the front door - quicky grabbing it and handling it to Hiragi while you swiftly put on some shoes.
"Depends on your definition of 'okay" the third year mutters, walking briskly ahead to lead the way once you've locked the door. "No broken bones?"
"Then yeah, he's fine." Hiragi answers, guiding you through some alleyways until you get to a semi-open area. In the middle you see Kusumi and Enomoto crowding around you assume is an unconscious Kaji on the ground.
Even without getting close you can already smell the blood surrounding the air - the the pile of passed out delinquents to the side was most likely the main reason.
"Kusumi-kun, Enomoto-kun, thank you for your hard work." you call out, the two vice captains turning towards you whilst you wave at them. And only then do you see their shoulders relax. "I can take it over from here."
The two students scurry quickly away, albeit not too far in case something were to happen when Kaji woke up. A needless worry you would always say to them.
Kaji would never hurt you after all.
So whilst Hiragi and the second year vice captains clean up the area, you're busy propping Kajis head on top of your lap, brushing aside his bloodied bangs to wipe away the dried blood on his face with a cloth.
It doesn't take long before Kaji stirs awake from your actions. It starts with a jolt of his fingers, followed by his eyes squeezing even tighter together. But it's only when you dab a cotton ball with disinfectant at an open wound that his eyes snap open in surprise.
Kaji would've almost headbutted you if you hadn't already cradled both of his cheeks in your hands, the distraught boy letting you tip his head up whilst you bend your own head to make eye contact with him. "Good afternoon sleeping beauty." you whisper, a smile on your face whilst you tighten the hold you have on his face, thumb gently stroking his cheek while he gasps for air. "How are you feeling?"
Kaji doesn't answer, he merely raises his hands to grab onto your wrists - his hold on you tightening which makes you unable to continue your ministrations of cleaning his wounds. His eyes dart back and forth questioningly, probably wondering how you ended up here although he's unable to directly ask you seeing that he's still heaving for air.
"Hiragi-san came to get me. Figured that it would help you calm down faster." you answer, wriggling your fingers in one hand to make him loosen his hold before wrapping your own fingers gently around his own wrist to press his trembling palm against your cheek. You let him stay like that for a moment whilst you keep an eye on his expression with a smile. It's only when you feel his thumb slightly brush against your cheek that you turn your head to press your lips against his palm, your eyes still trained on Kaji's own hazy ones.
"... The others?" Kaji finally whispers whilst letting his arm fall limp back down to the ground. A silent sign that you can continue tending to his wounds. "Helping Hiragi-san, quite a few of them managed to run back here, with you chasing them and all." you reply, placing a compress on a particular nasty scratch on his forehead.
"There! We're all done now!" you inform beaming, admiring your own handiwork with a triumphant smile. Kaji, however doesn't move from your lap - attention still at Hiragi and his vice captains that have begun to make small talk with the townspeople wondering what happened.
"So I only made trouble for both you and Hiragi-san again, didn't I." It was a statement rather than a question, perhaps that's why Kaji won't look your way. Too afraid to see what sort of expression you're sporting.
"... Ren," you call out softly, hands once again cradling his cheek to make him face you. There's a slight resistance at first, but Kaji soon let's you move his head to face upwards towards your direction again.
Kaji alternates between staring at you and looking slightly to the side to avoid your soft gaze. You can tell he's getting a bit nervous with how the fingers by his side keeps wriggling a bit, almost like he wants to dig them into his hoodie pocket to grab a sucker, anything to avoid saying something that can potentially hurt your feelings.
After all, behind that unbothered facade, lies a fragile boy still afraid of losing the people who had accepted him.
Every part of him.
Even the part he hated himself for.
In the end, he settles on balling them into a fist before taking a deep breath - directing his gaze back to you with furrowed eyebrows. "What-"
Before he can voice out his question, you're already bending down to slot your lips against his. The sudden kiss makes Kaji freeze, mouth slightly agape in surprise. The angle let's him easily smell the slightly sweet fragrance you have on your neck, paired with the smell of freshly dried linen.
A sweet peach scent, a stark contrast to the the rusty smell of blood that's been penetrating his senses since he woke up.
When you pull apart, it's only to give him a reassuring smile again before pressing your lips against his forehead, "You know I don't like it when you say you're being a bother." you gently remind. "If you were, I wouldn't be here now, would I?" you say.
Kaji doesn't say anything, merely staring at up at you with a glazed look. It takes a few seconds before he abruptly sits up straight and turns around to face you. The action making you jump in surprise, but you can barely move before his arms are wrapped around your shoulders with his face snuggled against your neck.
"... You smell good." He finally says, snuggling closer to inhale the fragrance left on your skin. "I know. It's your favorite after all." You answer with a laugh, wrapping your own arms around his waist whilst settling your own head against his shoulder.
And you'll stay there in his arms, for however long it takes for Kaji to pick himself up again.
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marlenesluv · 1 year
Note
hii shawty i have another smau thought/request! max x country girl (like claire monroe/monroe derillo) and people find out about their relationship and social media hates her since shes SO country and so much younger than him
better kept secret. (MV)
hii! i can definitely do that, i love this idea as well :)
pairing: max verstappen x country reader
fc: claire monroe
warnings: some social media hate from maxs fans. not rly a warnings, but age gap! (7 years)
masterlist here -> masterlist link
^ check my list for all posts! ^
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liked by: maxverstappen1, yourbsf, and 32,184 others
y/n.user: what’s more fun than sonic at 2am?
view comments…
user61: sonic > anything else fr
f1.updates: did max like this?…….
|> wagsf1: no- no way….
formula1fans: i will not stand for this, no way max knows her
|> user4: who even cares LOL
yourbsf: you are so beautiful, HELLO????
|> y/n.user: awe, thank you hun🥹
f1.edits: i am not editing her….. ummm
|> formula1fans: who asked you to? LMAO
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liked by: y/n.user, carlossainz55, and 487,104 others
maxverstappen1: great night in monza. excited for this little break for two weeks
view comments…
f1fan: who’s the girl….
|> wagupdates: it might be @y/n.user. she liked this and he liked her most recent picture. idk, i could be wrong but it also looks like her in this pic
|> f1fan: bro she’s like 16
|> formula1fans: she’s 18. but it’s legal sooo
|> f1fan: it’s weird, babe
|> formula1fans: idk
charles_leclerc: congrats about monza!!
|> maxverstappen1: thank you!
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liked by: maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 71,294 others
y/n.user: 🍹(it’s a virgin drink lolz)
view comments…
f1.wags: don’t tell me that’s max, pls no
|> formula1fans: it rly looks like him….
maxverstappen.fp: theres no way this is the girl he’s dating. this country girl?
mv.redbull: shes way too young for him…
|> formula1fans: pierre and his gf, kika, have a bigger age gap than this… who cares?
yourbsf: my prettiest cowgirl in all of the south 💓
|> y/n.user: ilyyyyy
y/n.fans: these comments are literally not it.
lilymhe: the suit….it looks so good on you
|> y/n.user: ty lily!!!
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liked by: pierregasly, maxverstappen1, and 81,194 others
y/n.user: baes first rodeo 🫶
view comments…
yourbsf: SO FUN WOOOOO
|> y/n.user: took his rodeo virginity YEEHAW🤠😭🤭
f1wags: nah, this ain’t it.
user98: i’m so confused, is this max?
|> f1updates: i think soo…….
|> f1wagupdate: soft launch vibes but i think we all know
francisca.cgomes: the fits are givinggg💓
|> y/n.user: thank you kika😊🤍
|> f1.fans: oh, the underage gfs duo!
|> user23: you do realize that they are not underage rt?
user73: okay but, if this is maxs gf, he should stand up for her. the amount of hate is ridiculous
|> user50: fr. and why the hate? cause she’s 18? pierre and kika have a bigger age gap. not to mention that everyone is j mad cuz she’s with max
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twitter:
F1 Wags Updates @f1wagupdates • 7hr
here’s what we know about y/n y/l/n so far, potentially max verstappens new girlfriend:
y/n is 18 and lives in tennessee, and attends college at the university of tennessee. now, fans have not been happy with the recent posts on y/n and maxs instagrams.
we know that max, pierre, lando, kika, lily, carlos, and oscar follow y/n, so far. max has been liking y/n’s photos of her and this new “boyfriend.” just like y/n has liked max’s new picture with his alleged “girlfriend.”
we don’t know anything for certain yet, as nothing has been announced. we assume this is a soft launch for them. throwing hate in y/n’s comments does absolutely nothing. especially because she’s “too country” and “too young.”
|
*comments have been disabled on this tweet*
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liked by: maxverstappen1, lilymhe, and 99,273 others
y/n.user: ⚠️⚠️⚠️
*comments have been disabled on this post*
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twitter:
User 79 @user79 • 3hr
what are your thought on it? #y/n
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User 56 @user56 • 3hr
i think that you guys are mad for no damn reason lol. let the poor girl live, she didn’t ask for this backlash, and for what? because she’s 18, which she can’t control. because she’s country? who cares? being country is so cool. because she’s dating max and you aren’t? stop being so jealous and let them date in peace
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Formula 1 Updates @formula1update • 3hr
her making her comments disabled definitely means she knows what’s going on, and being a wag comes with the hate. if she can’t handle it, then she doesn’t need to date max
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Wags of F1 @f1wags • 2hr
that’s actually so stupid. she’s not dating max bc he’s famous, i’m sure. so it’s not like she wants the media, hence the soft launch. honestly, you guys are being ridiculous for no reason. there are bigger age gaps with other couples, find a real problem in the world.
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User 37 @user37 • 1hr
here’s the real question, why aren’t you guys behind y/n like you are the rest of the wags?
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User 61 @user61 • 59mins
the real question is actually why max hasn’t said anything yet…..
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liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 1,014,194 others
maxverstappen1: my pr manager told me to keep quiet, to keep my relationship off of social media. two weeks ago, i told my girlfriend i was sick of not being able to show her off. at the beginning of my vacation, i posted a picture of us at her house, receiving all sorts of rude comments. then, the comments continued on to her page. “why hasn’t max said anything about the hate?” i couldn’t. i still technically cant, but getting facetimes at 2am because of comments making my girlfriend cry? i’m over it. if you can’t support my relationship, you are not a fan of mine. if you’re a fan of me, you need to understand that i have a personal life, which i rarely share. and the one time i do share, it can’t be an issue. to those that have stuck up for y/n and me, thank you.
*comments have been restricted to only those the creator follows*
y/n.user: thank you, max❤️
|> maxverstappen1: only posting what i should have posted weeks ago❤️
danielricciardo: it’s weird seeing you all emotional, dude. but i hope you guys are doing well ✌️
carmenmmundt: y/n is such a beautiful soul. it’s hard to meet people so genuine and kind. you’ve got an amazing girlfriend, max.
|> maxverstappen1: i know i do, i don’t deserve her
|> y/n.user: thank you carmen🫶 max shut up❤️
*liked by creator*
pierregasly: finally i can post all the pictures i got with you two in them
carlossainz55: congrats!!
|> maxverstappen1: on what?
|> carlossainz55: i don’t know…but congrats on announcing your relationship!!
|> maxverstappen1: right…thanks
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(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
924 notes · View notes
lambtail-tales · 2 years
Text
Obey Me guys and how they like to finish
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!
!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
I've been playing Obey Me again because I missed Asmo a lot and then this happened?
Warning for sexually explicit 18+ material!
GN reader!
Wordcount: 1750
Also first smutpost yeehaw! I had fun with these headcanons! I am so Normal about Barbatos I promise. Not beta'd prior to posting oops!
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉
Lucifer - in your mouth, on your back
Lucifer takes great pride in the mess he’s made out of you; watching you swallow every drop of him with your chin held firmly between his fingers with your misty eyes gives him a better high than anything in the Devildom possibly could. He delights in having you on your knees for him while making sure you can’t look away. The only thing he loves more is bending you over and taking you from behind, preferably on the desk in his study, and hearing you whine as he pulls out right as you both climax and his load splatters across your lower back, but he promises you aren’t done yet. You look marvelous in white.
Levi - between your thighs, in your hand
He’d do anything for a thigh job. Bonus points if you also wear thigh highs. If he’s doing it from behind, he’s going to be kissing your shoulders and neck. From the front, he’s all over your chest. Keeping his mouth busy keeps him from stammering like a dork, but there’s no bigger ego boost than when he’s on top of you; he’s made you a squirming, whimpering mess, and that’s his name on your lips. He can’t help but kiss you hard and deep as he finishes outside of you, all over your thighs. If you really wanna surprise him, you start palming him through the front of his pants mid-game, and snake your hand into his boxers. Your hands feel so good on his dick. He tries not to whine and writhe under your touch, especially when you feign innocence, but you always know just how to work him over. Levi is putty in your hands. He’ll cum quickly for you, and he turns the brightest red when you smirk and bring your hand up to your mouth to clean up your fingers, all without even looking at him.
Mammon - on/between your chest
Mammon strikes me as pretty easy; he’ll cum anywhere, but he is totally a boob guy in my eyes, plain and simple. I feel like in all honesty if he were to pick a favorite part of his partner, he would be into their chest, and would focus a lot on it. Touches, kisses, bites—you name it, he’ll do it, but when all is said and done, he loves nothing more than you servicing him with your chest, begging him to cum for you. Titjobs get this guy stupid high, and seeing his cum all over your chest, dripping from your nipples or collarbone, he’d easily take that over a stack of Grimm.
Satan - on your face and stomach
Satan doesn’t particularly mind where he finishes for the most part, but it’s pretty clear he does have a preference. He, like Lucifer, loves it when you make eye contact. He loves to see your pretty little mouth working his length, half-lidded eyes peeking up at him through your lashes. And when he can’t hold back anymore, the sight of you licking him off of your lips gives him satisfaction so great he can’t put it into words. Satan is a fan of any position where he can see your face and he’s able to observe all of the cute faces you make while he’s making you feel good; if he pulls out, he’s going to finish on your stomach, and he loves to see his load dripping down and around your bellybutton. Bonus points, because facing each other means easy kisses, and I think he’s big on kissing, especially after the two of you become a panting, sweaty mess of limbs on the bed.
Asmodeus - on your chest and back
Asmo has no qualms about where he makes a mess, as long as he gets to make one, but he’s definitely a fan of admiring his handiwork. Besides, what’s classier than a pearl necklace? Seeing you flushed pink all over and covered in his cum is such a pretty picture. The only thing that looks better than that is the reflection of the two of you in the mirror while he takes you from behind, where you can both see everything he’s doing to you, how good he looks doing it, and of course, the shaky, adorable mess he’s reduced you to. He wants nothing more than to hear you scream for him as he makes an even bigger mess on your back after he pulls out of you. Of course, expect lots of kisses and praise after from Asmo when you’re done, too.
Beelzebub - between your thighs, on your stomach
Beel thinks your thighs are soft and warm; he loves them. Plus, it’s pretty easy to get away with fucking your thighs in all the places that matter—like in the shower after his fangol practice, or in the kitchen while you’re making (and being) a late night snack for him. Beel also has a fondness for tummies. He finds them to be cute, especially yours, even after he blows his load all over it (which he silently takes pride in). Being that he’s such a big boy, he worries about hurting you, since you’re gonna be smaller than him. He loves to see you on your back, caged in with his arms, making the sweetest face at him as he fucks you. He’ll have his mouth all over you, savoring every part of you as he releases his load all over your stomach.
Belphagor - in your mouth, between your thighs
Belphie is a smug little shit, don’t tell me otherwise. I said what I said because this is all pretty low effort for him. He doesn’t really need to move from the bed at all to get between your legs, and he knows how to bully you under the blankets between his legs. He loves fucking you between your thighs because he can tease you by whispering things to you that would make most people go scarlet to the tips of their ears, and he can still touch you while he tells you how lewd you are (he’s not gonna ignore your needs too, after all). But, being in your mouth is just as good for him, because then you can’t talk back when he calls you a name or two, and hearing you swallow his seed really gets him going.
Solomon - in your mouth, on your ass
Solomon is just smitten with how cute you look on your knees for him; the look you give him from between his legs drives him absolutely crazy. He can’t get enough of how you say his name and beg him for what you want. He wants to see you swallow every last drop of him. He’d absolutely make you open your mouth so he can see that it all went down, and he’d praise you for it. That said, Solomon is an ass man and you can’t change my mind. Of course this means he loves to take his partner from behind and watching your ass jiggle as he rams into you. He’s also big into leaning over against your back to tell you how good you make him feel, and to ask you if you’re enjoying yourself. The cherry on top is seeing the mess he made at the end of it all.
Simeon - on your stomach. between your chest
Simeon isn’t an angel for nothing. I feel like he could be so soft and careful—he loves intimacy. Tender kisses, gentle caressing, hand holding, forehead touches, the works. He speaks to you in hushed, husky tones all the while, making sure you’re okay and you feel good, and making sure you know how incredible you are. He’s nothing but considerate of you and he can take it as slow or as fast as you ask him to. As much as he loves to see your stomach covered in his cum when you’re finished, he’s quick to clean you up and make sure you’re comfortable. On the other hand, if you offer to get him off with a titfuck, he will feel spoiled, and he will look so, so pretty gripping the edge of the bed, head thrown back as he pants and moans softly for you.
Barbatos - in your mouth or on your face
Barbatos relishes in any alone time he gets with you. He will do just about anything you ask of him—he loves to see you enjoying yourself, but more than that, he loves to see you disheveled and dirty, with your tongue all over him. You are all his, and he is all yours, and this is a version of you that only he gets to see and have for himself, and he savors it. He hates to see the tears in the corner of your eyes as you take his cock down your throat, but he loves how hungry you are for him. Your lips were soft and perfect, and they felt so good. Despite being in the profession of housekeeping and tidying, nothing pleases him more than the messes you make together when you’re alone, and he loves that you are so willing to take orders (which is a nice change of pace for Barbatos, too); if he tells you to drink it all, you do it, and then you open wide for him, so that he knows you listened like a good human. He hates to mess up your cute face, but you also look good with your face painted with him, licking him up from your fingers.
Diavolo - on your stomach and your ass
Diavolo will take you however you want, and he adores seeing his own mess. As long as he gets to be inside you, he truly does not care. He loves how needy you can sound, practically sobbing his name and begging him to give you everything, which he will gladly oblige. I doubt just once is enough for him, though; he’d fuck you good and hard, make sure you’re okay to keep going, and then plow you some more. He loves to see how you look with him inside of you from every angle, and the same goes for how you look covered in his cum, so expect this man to flip you over on the mattress, and expect to get dirty—he’s learned to keep towels handy. He of course always worries it’s too much for you, no matter how many times you do it, and no matter how many times you tell him you can take it. At the end of the day, you are precious to him, and he will spoil you silly for being such a good human for him.
3K notes · View notes
clubdionysus · 3 months
Text
[BAD DECISION #43] Circles
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warnings: subby koo <3, begging, handjobs, semi-public ig, jk calling himself a slut <3, edging, fingering, pussy eating, finger sucking, reader on top yeehaw, jk calling reader a slut (nicely i promise), titty sucking, vvv messy finish lawl, cum swapping, confessions??, feelings??, communication???, the moon????, some v cute moments actually!
notes: my fave thing about bd chapters is the doodles that went with them bc they're lil time capsules and u just know how the release of seven influenced me/bd hehhehe
wc: 11.8K
bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)
AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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"You've got so much sand in your hair," you muse softly, resting your head on Jeongguk's shoulder. Legs are wrapped around his waist, your chest is to his broad back as he carries you through from the kitchen to the living room.
It's just you and him, now, the main house quiet, save for your giggles and his reciprocation. The sand is residual from your chat on the beach, but you're still not really sure how he managed it—but it's sort of like your glitter. Gets everywhere even when you don't mean for it to.
The noraebang session you had returned to had died a brutal death. Jimin and Taehyung blessed your eyes and ears with a theatrical rendition of Bop to the Top from High School Musical, which scored them a mere 28.
Jimin threatened legal action. Taehyung begged Danbi for reassurance that his version of Sharpay's lines were flawless.
Too drunk for their own good, the rest of your friends had trundled back to their bedrooms. You and Jeongguk insisted that you wanted to clean up. Get the kitchen and sitting room fresh for the morning.
Really, you had just wanted an excuse to spend more time together. After an evening of ignoring him, you're desperate to fill your heart with his energy.
So far? So good.
The kitchen is spotless, as if the sitting room. You could go to bed now, if you wanted to.
But you don't.
As you reach the sofa, Jeongguk continues to keep you wrapped around his body, sitting you both down together. The scent of his aftershave is a little subdued, worn away throughout the evening, but it still drives you wild. Gets you pressing a silly little kiss into the curve of his neck.
He's pretty sure if you do it again, he'll die.
You're only in this position 'cause you'd started yawning, and Jeongguk didn't want you to fall asleep. Wanted you to stay awake with him into the early hours. You'd gladly obliged, his broad back the perfect place for you to get cosy.
Easing your position, your legs loosen, hands dropping to his waist.
The scent of his fabric conditioner steals the show as you press a kiss into his shoulder. 
Apparently you've lost your Goddamn mind, and are ignorant to the boundaries of platonic friendship. You don't behave like this with 'friends'—but it's nothing new, you suppose.
And you and Jeongguk most definitely aren't just 'friends'.
He's your favourite of all your friends, yes, but you care for him like a lover. Comfort him like it was your soul's purpose in a lifetime before this one. Find his gaze in crowded rooms as if you've spent millennia looking for him. Rest your head on his shoulder as if the crook of his neck was carved just for you.
He thinks it was.
"Like a little koala," Jeongguk fondly muses, one of his large hands stroking down your ankle while the other uses the remote to flick through the television options. He doesn't care much for shows nor movies these days, but just doesn't want to say goodbye to this day just yet. Wants to spend more time with you. "Watcha wanna watch?"
"Not fussy," you hum. In all honesty, your eyes are a little heavy. Whatever he puts on, you're gonna end up falling asleep. It's just a lame ass excuse to snuggle up with him in the most domesticated of ways. "Whatever you want."
Squeezing at your ankle, he says, "So you won't complain if I put Boss Baby on? WWE? Teleshopping? Porn channels?"
Shaking your head against his back, you smile. "You won't put Boss Baby on 'cause you've spent all weekend with Jimin."
"True."
"And teleshopping is a bad idea because you're weak," you tell him with absolute certainty. "They'll trick you into buying things"—
"Will not."
"Will too," you insist, knowing that he's just as bad as you when it comes to ridiculous, unnecessary purchases. "Porn channels are redundant 'cause I'm the only thing that gives you a boner these days"—
"Fair."
"So it looks like wrestling is your only option," you deduce, ignoring the way he just confirmed your joke about his boner situation.
In all fairness, Jeongguk hasn't even tried getting hard thinking about anything other than you lately. You're the only thing he desires. Only person, only body, only heart. Why waste time thinking of anything else? Wouldn't make him cum half as hard.
"I know your tricks," Jeongguk hums with a jovial air of nonchalance, opening up Netflix. "Get us watching WWE, learn a few tricks, then tackle me in a bid to seduce me. I wasn't born yesterday, Byeol. Can't fool me."
The way your body gently moves behind him when you laugh is nothing short of euphoria for Jeongguk. He loves this. Loves being with you.
For all the jokes that could be made about the validity of your claims of platonic friendship, you really are his best friend.
There's nobody else he'd ever wanna hang out with like this. Enjoys his space, yet seems to hate space when you're around. Wants to be close, close, close; always, always, always. Will stick to you like glue, if you'll let him.
"Don't need to tackle you to seduce you," you assure him. It's proven by the way his breath hitches as your hands sink to the top edge of his leather belt. You don't do anything. Just toy with the material a little. Tease. Say, "I barely have to touch you, do I? I bet you're getting hard now, aren't you?"
Suddenly, you don't feel so tired, anymore. 
Sleep can wait. Getting Jeongguk off can't.
There are two options for Jeongguk in this situation: denial, or acceptance.
He's pretty sure both of them will end in his dick getting wet.
May as well have a little fun with it.
"Nope," he lies.
The truth of the matter is that Jeongguk gets stiff at the drop of a pin when it comes to you. The mere mention of sex sends blood flooding to his cock. The implication that you might want to fuck him? Oh, he may as well have been going at it for half an hour with how much it makes him throb.
"Don't believe you," you whisper.
Jeongguk is still flicking through Netflix, but doesn't choose anything to put on. Is too distracted by the way you delicately stroke his belt. You could find out for yourself, if you really wanted to. He wouldn't object.
In fact, he encourages it, when the hand that had been holding your ankle comes to rest over one of your hands. Pushes it down. Rests your palm over his crotch, and pushes his hips upwards. Grunts.
"Yeah," he says, slowly pulsing his hips, building a firm pattern, the bulge of his cock fitting perfectly into the shape of your hand. "You're right to not believe it."
The Netflix search is abandoned as soon as you purr, "Let me get you off, Gguk."
The position you're in is kept, Jeongguk's belt threaded through its buckle, trousers unbuttoned, zip yanked down in a desperate bid to get your hands around his cock as quickly as you can.
Jeongguk tips his head back, breaths laboured. His crown rests upon your shoulder, as he hums into the satisfaction of the feeling your hands provide him with. "Tighter, baby. Grip it tighter."
You can't see what you're doing. Are relying on the feeling alone. Know his cock well enough by this point that it's no issue.
He gets a little pouty when you pull one of your hands away—but gets so incredibly vocal when you spit on your fingers and wrap them back around his thick shaft. Tells you how good you feel. How pretty your hands are. How much he wants to cum all over them.
God, he'd defile you right now, if he could. Sully your skin with his sex. Get those slender fingers of yours, and pretty nails, and just cover them in his cum.
Thing is, he wants to last. Has to push thoughts of finishing to the side. Can't embarrass himself like that, even as he whines into your touch like a little bitch.
Pushing his hips up into your slippery palms, Jeongguk is utterly obsessed with the way you feel.
"Oh, fuck, baby," he whimpers when you pick up the pace, his breathing all out of sync and so terribly cute. "You're so good to me," he praises. "So good."
Handjobs are typically fleeting whenever you fuck Jeongguk. A means to an end. This is different. Your hands are moving with purpose. He's jerking himself up into your palms 'cause he needs it. Needs you.
So you tease him—"So needy, aren't you?"—and are ever so pleased when he confirms your accusation. He nods. Grunts. Bites down on his bottom lip to stifle his noises.
And it's cute. So cute how much he likes even the simplest of sexual endeavours with you. Kind of feels like he never knew how good it could be—to fuck and be fucked in return—before he met you.
There's something about Jeongguk when he's like this— pathetic —that just really gets you going. You know you're soaked in your panties. Dress pooling around your hips, you wonder if he can feel your arousal. It's sort of unintentional, the way you grind your hips up against him. You're just turned on. Want him as badly as he wants you.
"You're fucking yourself into my hand like a desperate little slut, aren't you?" you giggle into his ear, nibbling on his lobe. You know it will drive him mad.
"Shit," he curses, leaning his head to the side to give you more access to his neck. Whimpers when your lips latch right onto his sweet spot. "Such a slut for you, B. God, baby, you're gonna make me cum. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard."
Every single word he utters is laced with a heavy, lustful breath. He's losing his mind. Forgot the simple pleasure of a pair of pretty hands.
"Beg for it."
"Byeol," he whines.
"Beg for it," you repeat. "Tell me why you deserve to cum, huh?"
"Cause you fuckin' want it," he grunts, shuddering a little as his torso twitches from the pleasure he's fighting. "You wanna see me cum. I know you do."
"That's not begging," you say as you press a light kiss to his neck. "Do better."
And against all odds, he does.
"Let me cum," he breathlessly whispers. "Byeol, please let me cum. I'll do anything."
The power trip is unbelievable. Too good to give up.
But the tortured, laboured whimper he mewls as you release your hand? The way his body doubles over? The hushed curses under his breath?
Makes it so incredibly worth it.
"I'm on the verge of death," he pants when he realises what you've done. Squirms beneath the pressure of his undelivered pleasure. "Oh God, I'm gonna fuckin' die. You're gonna kill me."
He's being dramatic. All you've done is withheld an orgasm. Edged him a little.
All weak and limp, Jeongguk's hips are still involuntarily pulsing, cock desperate for release. Balls so tight he really does think he might die.
And so he pulls away. 
Decides that if you're gonna be a brat, then he's gonna be even fuckin' worse.
He gets to his knees. Rids himself of his dress shirt. Positions himself right between your spread legs. Is gonna give you a taste of your own fuckin' medicine.
Jeongguk hooks his arms under your thighs and yanks you forward, for no purpose other than to plant kisses all over the soaked lace of your underwear as quickly as he possibly can.
Dress pooled by your hips, the access is easy. He's already deduced that you're only wearing the bra and panties of the three piece set, but he doesn't give a fuck.
Truthfully, when it comes to having sex with you, none of that matters.
Skin on skin is what he wants. Closeness. Togetherness.
"Oh, fuck me," he chokes out when he's sees how badly you want him, dark eyes tracing over the lines of your slick core.
He slips his index finger beneath the strip of fabric that covers your pussy, and pulls it to the side. Has never felt hunger quite like it. Brings his middle finger to your already soaked hole and gently pushes inside. Sinks down to kitten lick against your clit, utterly obsessed with the taste, the scent.
"God," he barely pulls away. Brushes his lips against you as he speaks. "I could just fuckin' die in this cunt."
"Then do it. Die for me," you tease, hand coming to tangle in his hair, encouraging his lips to suction around your clit. His finger continues to fuck itself into you, quick in its pace. He pulls back. Spits. Reattaches himself to you, as if he can't bear to be apart.
The sensation of Jeongguk is almost too much to bear. Almost .
Toying and teasing, he's manipulating your pussy with his hands all in a bid to get your body writhing.
There's something to be said for the way his touch just absolutely controls you. Domineers. Dictates. How he can be as soft as his silky hair in one moment, then as hard as his sharp jaw the next.
He hums in approval as he sucks on your pussy, palm to the sky as he begins to pick up the pace of his fingers. There's a lewdness to the sounds that you make together; a harmony that's so disgustingly human it almost makes him forget that you're not of this world.
Brighter than any of the stars shining in through the window, you're beaming. Alive with the feeling of Jeongguk laying claim to you, as if he's just discovered one of those scam name-a-star websites. Card data already input into the checkout, he'd waste all his resources on you.
His tongue is flat as he delves between your folds. Flat, and firm and fucking divine— until it's pointed, and precise and overwhelmingly perfect. Heat travels through your entire body, from the tip of your toes to the tops of your fingers. It's bliss. He's bliss.
The thing about stars is that they burn. Are red hot in a way that Jeongguk failed to realise when he first became acquainted with you. Every touch of your body has rewritten the fabric of his. There are constellations in his fingerprints; cosmic entities where your lips have pressed your adoration into his skin.
Jeongguk is not the same man he was before he knew you, and he'll never be the same again. The scars you leave are promises. I'm yours. Invisible to the naked eye, yet entirely obvious to anyone who spends time in his company. You're mine.
His mouth is a little too preoccupied to make any silly declarations right now, mind you. Lapping at your pussy, Jeongguk eats you out like he hasn't had a good meal all week. He'd starve for seven days if knew he'd have the luxury of your taste by the time Sunday arrives.
"Nicest pussy ever," he promises when he finally takes a second to breathe. Looks up at you, eyes glossy. Starry. The tip of his nose shines in the haze of your hedonism, lips wet. "Nicest pussy in the whole world."
"Oh yeah?" you giggle, a little amused with how sweet his compliments are. Sweet, and stupid, and simply impossible for him to test the validity of.
Not that he ever wants to. Only wants you.
You scratch behind his ear, and Jeongguk's puppy-dog tendencies return as he leans into your touch. Smiles. Hums in complete contentment.
"Mhmm," he says, leaning back down to press kisses all over your slick lips, fingers thick as they continue working your pussy for his viewing pleasure—and for your pleasure, full stop. Punctuated with pretty kisses in the place of full stops, he says, "And it's mine . I get to have it. So lucky, baby. So lucky."
There's no luck to this. None whatsoever.
A little fate, maybe. Destiny.
"Yours?" You raise a brow.
He doesn't give you a verbalised response.
Just wraps his lips around your clit, and keeps his eyes open this time. Looks up at you, dark eyes twinkling, dewy nose pressed into your skin, his desperation to devour you evident. Lets his fingers scissor inside you. Gets your toes pointing. Has you looking to the sky. Your back arches, fingers tight in his hair.
"Gguk," you whine, as if he's in any position to respond to you—but he does .
He hums, and— fuck —the vibration around your clit sends you orbiting.
"That's it," you breathe out, looking back down as a familiar sensation begins to take control. He doesn't ease up. Keeps stroking at your sweet spot. Keeps sucking on your clit. Keeps doing what he's doing 'cause he loves what's about to happen.
Ever the gentleman, and incredibly unlike you ten minutes ago, Jeongguk decides to let you ride the wave of the orgasm crashing over you. Doesn't wanna deprive you. Wants you to feel good. Knows it won't be the last time it happens tonight.
"Shit," you choke out as your shoulders press down into the sofa, one of your hands instinctively cupping your chest. The dress you're wearing is still covering most of your body, but it doesn't matter. Jeongguk'll get you out of it eventually. "That's it. That's it— fuck ."
The way your walls begin to tighten, legs hooking around the back of his head as your entire body shudders, is almost enough to make him finish, too.
He thinks it's the hottest thing he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Doesn't understand how he can find such pleasure in someone else's orgasm, but knows if it came down to him or you, he'd sacrifice all of his for one of yours.
Moaning as he drags you to a height of pleasure reserved only for the brightest of stars, Jeongguk smiles through it all. Reluctantly pulls away from you with laboured breath, chest heaving from the fact he kinda forgot how to breathe. Was busy. Thinks your pussy is more important than his survival.
"You good?" he checks, resting his pretty head on your thigh. Keeps his fingers plugged inside you, but slows the movements to a halt. Just keeps you full, 'cause he can. 'Cause he wants to. 'Cause he's lowkey obsessed with you.
With a nod, you let your body relax into the plush pillows of the sofa. Giggle. Keep your legs over his shoulders, but hold your face in your hands, as if you're embarrassed by how hard you came for him.
But then a kiss is pressed to your inner thigh, pretty and soft, accented by the hardness of his lip ring.
"You came so well for me, baby," he praises. Thinks it's cute how shy you get whenever you cum. So pretty and perfect and his. A shallow laugh gets caught in his throat, before he shakes his head and sits up a little straighter. "So gorgeous when you cum. Pretty, baby."
Jeongguk has never been more in love.
Slowly, he pulls his fingers from you. The tepid movement makes your back arch ever so gently, pussy still sensitive from your climax. Eyes on his, you know him well enough to get a read on his intentions. His desires.
So you just smirk. Let your lips part. Hold your tongue out ever so slightly, eyes wide, expression playful. He follows your lead. Brings his messy fingers to your lips. Sinks them into your mouth, and is met with the most glorious sight.
The expression on your face changes . Darkens .
While, yes, your eyes are still wide, it's your cheeks that really get him, now.
Your typically sweet cheeks are hollowed, your bone structure exclusively on show for him. It gets him throbbing. Gets him wrapping his spare hand around his cock—not that it needs any encouragement. He's still rock-hard for you. Still wants you.
Is proven, when he begs once more. "Let me fuck you, babe."
A smirk settles on your lips as he pulls his fingers back. You shuffle in your seat. Readjust. Keep your legs spread and encourage him to squeeze onto the sofa with you.
The angle is a little off, and it definitely isn't gonna be how you fuck him, but it brings him closer to you. Close enough to kiss. Close enough to smell your arousal on him. Close enough to let him sink his tongue between your lips and get lost in you once more.
All you ever seem to want these days is to be close to Jeongguk, and even then, close is never close enough. His lips are on yours, your tongue in his mouth, his hands all over your body—and still it's not enough.
There's something missing; words that would fuse you to him. Words that you know damn well if uttered right now would end in disaster—so you bite back the desperate, hungry, declarations that are dancing in your throat. Reach for Jeongguk's hand. Force him to wrap his fingers around the base of your throat, just so you can keep those pesky words at bay.
The squeeze of his wide hand around your neck is welcome. Not too harsh, just strong enough to let you know that no other necklace would suit you half as well as Jeongguk's pretty, tattooed hand does.
It's force of habit, more than anything, that makes his spare hand drop to your pussy. Fingers flat, he rubs over your clit at the speed of lightning, not for any grand purpose other than to make you shake a little. Smirks, when you do exactly as he thought you would.
"Look at how easy you are for me," he husks, pressing his lips across your cheek, down your jaw. Squeeze your throat a little tighter. "You gonna let me fuck you, huh?"
The tables have turned.
You're the pathetic one, now.
"Uh-huh," you whine when he sinks his middle finger back into your pussy. He's quick. Repeats it a couple times. Loves how needy you are; how noisy your pussy is. So fucking wet for him.
As he pulls his hand from your cunt and wanks himself a little, he revels in how your slick juices feel against his shaft. Doesn't know how the fuck he found pleasure in anything before he knew you. Knows he'll never find pleasure in anything else. You've corrupted him. Completely and utterly. Ruined.
His lips trail to your ear, hands roaming your body. Squeezing. Appreciating. Devouring.
He's quiet, when he husks, "Want you to ride me."
"Say please," you quip back without missing a beat.
It's not like you're gonna say no—but you are gonna make him beg a little.
"Please, B," he says so daintily it's as if his cock isn't all red and engorged and leaky at the tip for you. He's got the body of an angel, but all it makes you wanna do is sin. "Be a good girl for me. You know you want to. Fuck me how you want to fuck me."
He does know how to ask nicely, you'll give him that much credit.
Jeongguk pulls away and sinks into the sofa beside you, certain you'll do as you're told.
His arrogance will catch up with him one day, but you're too eager to please him right now. All you wanna do is fuck him right, 'cause you know he'll fuck you right in return.
There's no objection as he pulls you onto his lap. No time wasted as he rubs the tip of his cock between your soaked folds. No bodies more connected than yours when he finally pushes up inside of you.
He groans. Throws his head back. Holds your waist and is reminded of your dress. Decides that it absolutely needs to go.
The way he rids you of the silky fabric is barbaric. You don't know where he throws it. Don't know if it's still in one piece. All you know is that his lips are on your skin as soon as they can be, his hips rutting up into you, cock nudging so deep inside of your cunt you can feel him in your fucking throat.
Okay, so maybe that's dramatic, but he just fills you so fucking well. Is so big. So nice.
His hand wraps around your back to release the clasp of your bra with little to no effort. He sheds you of your clothes and has you exactly how he wants you: naked, whiney and ever so beautiful as you take his full cock inside you.
Jeongguk's not small. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He's easily got the biggest cock you've ever taken, yet your body adapts to him effortlessly. You're tight, yeah, but not painfully so. It's all pleasure. You're made for him, and him for you.
The thickness of his cock is amplified when he grabs your waist and begins to bounce you at a faster pace.
"Oh, shit," he curses. "God. Taking me so well, aren't you, B? Taking this fat cock so easily. Oh, fuck yeah. Pretty, pretty slut."
It's been a while since he got vulgar with the name-calling. Was reminded of how much he likes it when you'd done it earlier.
You'd forgotten how much you like it too; how much you like the acknowledgement that you'll slut yourself out for him, and him alone.
"Whose slut are you? Huh?" he asks, never caring for a response. Just gets a little loose with his lips when your pussy gets tight. "Who does this cunt belong to?"
"Oh, God," you mewl, unable to form anything coherent.
He almost fuckin' snorts as he laughs. "Don't think this cunt does belong to God."
"Fuck off," you laugh. Find it so endearing that he still finds the time to joke with you. "Gguk"— his hips thrust up harder, and you have to curse him out a little before you can continue —"It's yours, you prick."
He smirks. Tips his head back, the clamminess of his body making this all so much filthier. There's a sheen to his skin, sweat dappling him. His tattoos seem even more vibrant now, your hand holding onto his arm for dear life as he rams his cock into you.Slows his hips a little. Rolls them now. Husks, "Mine."
"So big, Koo," you mumble into his lips, as if he doesn't know. It's so much more satisfying hearing your stay. Your words are stuttered. Slurred. Fucked out. "Baby, you're so big."
"Don't call me that," he husks. Grabs your tits. Plays with them just 'cause he can. Teases your nipples. Pinches. Makes you mewl. "Call me that, and you'll make me fuckin' nut."
It's not just 'Koo' getting him needy today. It's 'baby', too. 
Jeongguk has always been the one more naturally inclined to call you baby—but just because you don't say it as often doesn't mean you don't think it.
God, you wanna call him baby all the time these days. When you're lazing around together, when you greet him, when you're giggling with him in the sanctuary of his bedroom, birds looking on with a fond curiosity. Baby would just roll off your tongue so naturally, if you let it.
And so, in this moment, you do.
"Hmm, baby?" you torment him.
"B," he stays sternly as he pulls you down onto his dick. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, as deep as it can possibly go. You mewl. Gasp. Whine. And he loves it. Loves the way you sound; loves that the sounds are all involuntary and that it's his size making it happen. "Don't wanna cum yet. Wanna fuck you for hours."
It already feels like it's been hours, but it also feels like it's been no time at all.
Sex with Jeongguk alters the time-space continuum. It has to. There is no way that fucking Jeongguk doesn't transform the world in some way, shape or form.
Or maybe it's just your world that it alters. Your life. Your heart.
Taking back a little control, you rake your fingers in his hair, and pull them taut. He gasps. Stutters out a moan. Eases his grip on your waist to let your hips roll at a slower pace. He puts you in control, 'cause it's what you want.
He'll give you anything you ask for. Everything.
"Shit," you curse, grinding against him. The friction of your clit rubbing up against the neatly trimmed pubic hair is nothing short of euphoric—and when his lips latch around one of your tits? Sucks on it softly? Is tender with his touch instead of the slightly aggressive, domineering Jeongguk you were expecting? Oh, you won't last long at all. "Feels so good, Gguk."
"Mhm?" he hums, vibrating around your nipple, his thumb coming to rub at your neglected bud on the other side. God, he loves your tits. Wants them in his mouth all the time. Quite the change since your first meeting. Doesn't know how he lived without them before.
"Mhhm," you nod, pressing your lips to the top of his head.
The way your bodies are moving together is anachronistic; of a time before casual fucking and the conventions of modern dating. It's primal. Lethargic in the way you want to experience one another; eager in your yearning.
It's as if you knew him in another life. As if the stars have always intended on you merging. As if you've been a black hole waiting to happen, but now in the abyss you find abundance: Love, acceptance, contentment by the bucket load.
Eventually, the pace builds like you knew it would. Jeongguk's grunts get loftier. Your moans get shorter. Sharp. They hitch at the back of your throat, and Jeongguk kisses you until they dissolve onto his tongue.
It's as he's playing with your clit that a second, far stronger, orgasm is drawn from you. You think you see stars. Jeongguk knows for a fact he sees stars.
He also takes it as confirmation that you're getting worn out; that he doesn't need to hold off finishing.
His hand grips your ass, working you up and down his shaft in a desperate bid to coax an orgasm out of his cock, even if you're a little fucked out. It really doesn't take much to get him there; to have him cursing your name and kiss your neck.
"Oh, shit, babe," he pants. "Where"—
"Tits."
" Fuck ."
Neither of you care for the awkward clambering as you get between his legs once more, nor the dizzy disposition of your knees after your orgasm.
All you care about is Jeongguk. His pleasure. Making him cum.
You want to be the reason. Want him looking at you.
And he does.
It's delicate, how violently his body unloads itself for you. His lips are parted, brows furrowed as he wanks himself for you. You've always loved him like this. It reminds you of the early days—a little too scared to touch one another, but desperately wanting to.
It's different now. Touching Jeongguk is a natural inclination that's reciprocated. If he couldn't touch you— innocently as well as intimately —then he'd probably die.
"Cum for me," you beg, holding your tits together for him.
He shudders, legs twitching as the sensation boils over, and he shoots thick spurts of semen all over your chest. You gasp as he does so, and regret not asking for it in your mouth—so you lay your tongue flat for him. He gets the memo. Rests the tip of his cock on your tongue as massages the final spurts of his load into your mouth.
"Shit," he curses, then drags you back up to his lap. Clasps either side of your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss so desperately that he doesn't even wait for you to swallow. Licks into your mouth. Whines when he tastes himself. Drops a hand to squeeze at one of your tits, and ends up just rubbing his cum into your skin.
It's filth. Real fucking dirty.
And yet it's pure.
Unadulterated desire shared between you both. Reserved only for one another.
Eventually, as the kisses begin to ease into teeny tiny pecks, Jeongguk laughs to himself. Shakes his head. Beams as he cups your jaw and presses one final, deliberate kiss into your lips.
"If you keep fucking me like that, you're gonna get me saying all kinds of dumb shit," he promises.
"Oh yeah?" You giggle, reaching across the sofa, still in his lap, to retrieve his shirt. Thread it over your arms, you don't bother to do it up - you just know that dawn is brewing on the horizon, and fear a rogue friend of you both strolling over to the main house for some reason. Your back is to the large windows, but wouldn't take a genius to work out what's occurring. "What kinda dumb shit?"
"Dunno. Shit about how you ride me so well," he praises, eyes darting around your face, 'cause he's obsessed with every single part of you. Eyes, nose, lips. Wants them all. Settles for a nudge of noses. "So good at making me feel good, baby. So good. God, I can't believe I get to fuck you."
There's a genuine look of relief on his pretty, smiley features, as if there'd be a reality in which you'd ever turn him down.
"Can't believe I get to fuck you," you giggle right back, as Jeongguk begins to preen you. He smooths your hair. Studies the glitter on your cheeks, but doesn't change it. Loves it just as it is.
"Shut up," he says, a little bashfully—as if he wasn't the one to start this whole complimenting one another bullshit.
Jeon Jeongguk always looks so pretty in the afterglow; skin made of stardust, a smile that shines. The clamminess of his skin always makes him seem a little rounder, a little softer. It's cute—and right now? It's just for you .
You half think Jeongguk is gonna throw some sort of childish remark your way, until his demeanour sort of stiffens a little. His teeth press down on his bottom lip, and the ring, of course, does the thing. He seems perplexed. Concerned.
You're about to ask, but then Jeongguk decides that you shouldn't have to.
He should just tell you. What he thinks, how he feels.
And so he says, once more, "Byeol, I don't wanna keep going around in circles."
Pulling away a little, you snuggle down into the couch beside him. Giving him the space to pull his Calvins back up, there's a comfort to the serenity you're basking in.
Anyone who saw you now—you naked save for his shirt, traces of his sex glistening on your skin, and him in his underwear—would be forgiven for thinking you were a pair of newlyweds after their big day. Snuggling into another, it's a dangerous place to get too comfy. You really should go back over to the side-house that you're supposed to be sleeping in.
"Then start going in a straight line," you counter, childish in your tiredness.
He hums out a small laugh, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. "I mean it, B. What I said earlier."
"Which part?"
"The part where I told you I wanted you," he says quietly. Squeezes you tightly. Needs you to know he's telling the truth. "No one else. It's just as true now as it was when I first said it."
"You don't know what it's like to 'have' me. I'm not easy to handle," you say candidly.
Jeongguk thinks you're incredibly easy to handle. It's your asshole ex-partners that have been difficult.
"Nor am I," he says softly instead, not fighting back against the perception you presented. Knows how you work. Knows you'd never believe him regardless. Will just have to prove it to you over time. "I don't want easy. Don't want anyone else. Just want you."
Feels like a moot point, now.
You know how Jeongguk feels. It's been established.
But it's late, and you're both a little tired and probably a bit cranky from the alcohol. Need to sleep.
And so when Jeongguk cuts the conversation, chucks you his shirt and offers you a piggyback ride to the house, you accept it.
Just like you accept it when he drops you off in your room, and never leaves.
His own bedroom is rendered useless, for there's nowhere else he'd rather dream than right next to you.
Jeongguk doesn't fight sleep when it comes. Falls into it willingly, arm still looped over your waist to keep you close. He doesn't mind the heat. Doesn't mind your hair in his face, or the inability to move freely. Would far rather sleep with you like this than alone.
Typically, you'd find it easy to fall asleep in such a position. Not with anyone else—you'd be frustrated with their warmth, and imposing touch—but with Jeongguk, it's always welcome.
Tonight, you stare at the ceiling.
Grey in the light of the bay that seeps in through the window, the emptiness feels as calming as the boy beside you. There's no reason why you shouldn't be able to sleep, but your mind seems to be racing at a mile a minute, filtering between the security of time spent with Jeongguk, and the instability of exactly what you are.
The conversations had today have shined a little light on Jeongguk's feelings, but it's still nothing solid. You're still just friends. An attempt had been made at changing that, but it was a fruitless endeavour. Just feels like Jeongguk was right—you are going round in circles.
People can be fickle, and you know that Jeongguk has been holding out his heart from hurt recently. You doubt he'll be willing to venture down the path he's already travelled with Hayun. Why make the same mistakes twice? You're both supposed to be growing. Learning.
Falling into something with you is the opposite of what he should be doing.
Yet his arm is looped around your waist, bare skin sticking to yours in the heat of your embrace. He clearly finds comfort in you, but isn't confident enough in his feelings to actually commit to you.
And you shouldn't compare—you know this—but you've been made to feel like this before.
So you adjust. Shakes out of his shackles. Can't leave, 'cause it's your room, but you consider it - where would you go? To his room? To the beach?
Anywhere but here.
There's not really much thought put into it when you eventually slip out from the duvet, and quietly head down the stairs. Are childish as you stick your middle finger up in the direction of Hayun's room, just 'cause you're sick of her and her impact on your life, but aren't willing to actually argue with her. Unseen passive aggression is your new best friend.
Sliding the front door open, you're met by the chill of the cold spring air. All you're wearing is Jeongguk's button-up - the same one he'd taken off you before bed with little care for seducing you.
That being said, he did frown when you went to change into pyjamas. Insisted that you didn't need them. Had you naked beneath the sheets with no intention of fucking you - which felt like a headfuck within itself.
You don't mean to be this way; to be so suspicious of innocence.
Your insecurities are deep-rooted. They'd been so well conditioned into the fabric of your being that they now sit flush against your previous expectations of relationships. They're impossible to pick away. They need to be excavated, then re-filled with a new understanding of what it's like to be loved.
Jeongguk's been trying.
It's hard work, though. Laboursome. Strenuous. Stressful. Takes far more time than it really should.
He thinks it's the easiest job in the world.
The reward is so much greater than the investment. There's no sunk cost fallacy with you; even if it doesn't work out between the pair of you, he's hoping he'll at least heal the wounds left by someone else. Wants you happy and healthy, only. Always. Endlessly.
The sea that stretches in the distance and far beyond your eye-line is in a state of the rest. The moon has calmed the tides or so it seems. As you crouch down, feet flat to the floor on the lawn, you hope she'll do the same for you.
There's a crunch of gravel in the distance, and you know exactly where it's coming from. Who's stepping across it in search of stars.
Part of you hates that he's awake so suddenly.
Most of you loves it.
Coming to crouch behind you, Jeongguks knees spread to either side of your body. Chin resting on your shoulder, he restrains from holding you—but only because he's aware of the fact you left. Doesn't want to trap you.
"Watcha doin," he mumbles, voice croaky, the heat of his body warming you up. "Fuckin' freezing, B. You've no trousers on."
Nor does he. In fact, he's dressed even more poorly than you are, in just a pair of boxers. Though summer is approaching, the nights here are still worthy of a padded jacket. Jeongguk's temperature is running warm, like it usually does when he sleeps. If he were to hug you—which he won't until he's certain you even want that—you'd realise this.
"S'not too bad," you say of the temperature, even though you know your nose must be ever so blushed.
"Is too," he counters quietly, the movement of his jaw as he talks forcing his chin to dig a little into your shoulder. It doesn't hurt, though. Never hurts. Jeongguk will never hurt you, not really. You do that all by yourself. "And you didn't answer me. What are you doing out here?"
"Couldn't sleep," you reply without giving him space to breathe, because honesty feels too daunting.
"Did you try?"
"To sleep?"
"Mhmm," he sleepily mumbles.
The truth of the matter is that no, you didn't. Imaginary sheep remain uncounted.
Turning your head to face him, you are pleased to see him in this state: hair fluffy, eyes puffy. He's never cuter than he is in times like these.
The moon reflects on his lip ring, specks of glitter still on his skin.
"Pretty," you say, 'cause you think he deserves to know exactly what he is.
"Pretty," he just repeats back. Is soft in his tone. Gentle. Calming.
Maybe it wasn't the moon you needed after all.
Jeongguk's lips are feathery as they brush with yours, closing down slowly. The application and removal of pressure works like clockwork, just like it always does, and the subtle swipe of his tongue against your lips is welcome. You reciprocate. Swipe your tongue against his, and encourage him to intrude—but he doesn't. Not really.
While yes, on a technicality, his tongue is in your mouth, it's not how it usually is. It's slow. Lamblike. A soft reminder of how tender he can be.
"Come back to bed," he says quietly, barely pulling away. "Wanna sleep with you." He clutches your jaw. Kisses you again, but this time lets his tongue stroke against yours a little more deliberately. "Want you to stay with me, B."
He's so much needier when he's sleepy. So much cuter. Daintier.
"Don't want you to ever leave," he whispers. Kisses you again, so that you can't reject his request.
Leave what? His bed? His life? His embrace?
He doesn't clarify, and you don't ask for it, either.
Instead, nose resting against his, eyes closed, a serene smile on your lips, you say, "Ever? I have to stay forever?"
Jeongguk nods. Kisses you quickly. "That'd be preferable."
But there's an all too large awareness looming on Jeongguk that you left .
History is repeating itself, and it's so much more bitter the second time around.
There's an embarrassment that comes with this acknowledgement.
Perhaps it's his own fault. Perhaps he hasn't really given you enough time to process everything. Hayun has always been a sticking point, and her being here has shifted the mood completely, but Jeongguk really thought progress had been made. That maybe you and him were starting to figure things out.
But you've both got experiences that taint this stage of falling for someone else. Your defences have been up ever since you came to realise that maybe you've been lying to yourself about your true feelings for Jeongguk.
So to look across dining tables and be confronted with the woman he once thought he'd marry?
It sorta killed you, a little—or at least it kills the idea of longevity with Jeongguk. A pact was made, after all, and Jeongguk is a man of his word.
It's all you can think about whenever you look at her, so fuck knows what he must be thinking about when he does.
He loved her once. Her, with her cherry red lips and feline smile. Her, with her ambition and her wit. Her, with everything that you're not.
Confusion comes with the confrontation of the girls once loved by the man you adore.
"Is it not strange?" you ask, turning to face away from him. "Having to be around Hayun all the time? Is it not awful for you? Don't you"—
"No," he interrupts your final question. Doesn't care to hear it. Knows you're in your head again over stupid shit. "B, how many times"—
"You were in love with her," you stress the words softly. A fight isn't what you're looking for. Not in the slightest. You're just trying to understand . "When I first met you, Gguk, you were in love with her."
Knowing what he knows now, feeling how he feels now, he isn't so sure.
"Was I?"
Ignorant to the fact that Jeongguk thinks you're incomparable to her, you don't fully trust his questioning.
"Yes."
Jeongguk takes a second. Knows that whatever he says next will dictate the rest of the conversation.
There's something about Hayun that just gets under your skin. No matter how much reassurance you get from him, there always will be. It's his own fault, he thinks. Knows that he's the one who informed your opinion, but fails to realise that you wouldn't have liked her regardless. She's just not your kind of person. Too critical in her gaze. Too stand-offish. It's really not hard to understand why she caused Jeongguk to develop a myriad of complexes.
"Well, what about Seokjin?" He questions now, not looking for a fight either, but definitely a little agitated in his tone. "If you're so over him, why were you comparing me to him earlier?"
"You know that's"—
"Different?" He scoffs, but still holds you. Holds you tighter, actually. "How? How am I meant to hear a comparison to your ex and not think you still have feelings for him?"
Funny, how similarly you view one another's exes.
Jeongguk is sick of Seokjin. Has met the fucker fewer than a handful of times, yet he has to bear the weight of his bad behaviour as if he's responsible for it. It's not fucking fair.
And yeah, maybe he's just tried, and a little cranky, and perhaps he should have just let you leave like you apparently so desperately wanted to—but that's the difference between him and Seokjin.
Jeongguk never wanted you to leave.
The gravity of his questioning is too sharp of a blow even for him. He lets you go. Pulls away from the embrace he's been keeping you safe in.
"I don't lie to you, B," he says, getting to his feet. The closeness he was begging for feels tainted, now. Forced. Uncomfortable. "I tell you everything ."
Everything except the part where I'm in love with you.
"I never said you didn't," you insist quietly, resentful of your brain for turning this into an argument. You don't want to argue with him. Not in the slightest. You don't understand why you are. "Don't go. Please."
"I don't get it," he stresses, his voice quiet, too. "You're pushing me away and yet you still want me close. I don't understand. B, I just... What am I supposed to do?"
The defeat in your sloped shoulders and furrowed brows when you get to your feet and turn to face him is evident. All you can do is shrug.
"Gguk, I'm scared."
He nods. Knows this. Is scared, too.
When you first met, you were both scared of what it could mean to get over your exes.
This is different. Seokjin is a fracture in time; a notch in your bedpost.
Jeongguk is so much more than Seokjin could ever be. Sure, he doesn't have his life figured out yet, and maybe you've both got room to grow—but you can grow with him. Together.
"Okay, so tell me," he encourages. Holds his hand out, and when you take it, he draws you closer. Strokes your arms. Presses a kiss to your forehead. "Tell me what you're scared of."
You're not very good with anatomy. If anyone was to ever ask you about the location of your heart, you're not sure you'd choose the correct side of your chest.
What you are sure of, is that if anyone was to ever peer inside it, the chambers of your heart would be full to the brim with the very essence of him.
They'd hear his laughter echo, and the way his hushed moans vibrate into nothingness. They'd find glitter, and gold; evidence of you and him coexisting just like you're supposed to.
They'd find origami birds, and tiny folded stars, too. Chess pieces and purple starfuckers; lip rings and lace bras hidden beneath pillows. They'd marvel at how such a small organ could be so flooded with evidence of another person—and if they were to see him the way in which you see him, then maybe they'd love him, too.
There's no denying it now.
To him, yes, but not to yourself.
You're in love with Jeon Jeongguk.
And it terrifies you.
"Hmm?" he implores you to open up to him.
"I wasn't supposed to like you this much," you feebly admit, because there's no chance in hell you're baring your soul just like that, but know that you at least have to give him something. Give him the chance to reject you. "But now I do, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
He's silent for what feels like a lifetime. In reality, it's maybe three, four seconds. No more than five. Just enough time for him to digest your words. They go above the territorial need of not wanting to share. They're an indication that maybe he isn't totally insane. That maybe he could love someone and be loved in return.
But he's leaping. Knows that there's a far stretch between 'like' and 'love'. A bridge needs to be crossed, and he doesn't know if you're willing to do that.
"Guess it depends," he says, trying to remain calm even if his heart is crashing against his ribs like the waves against the shore in the distance. Wants to kiss you. Thinks it's the only thing that will get his head straight. Swears you must be a fucking drug. He's having withdrawals. Needs you in his system.
"On?"
"Are you happy?"
A simple question without a simple answer.
Yes, you're happy. Happy with your life, with your friends, with your blooming potential within the local gallerist network. Happy when you're with Jeongguk, and happy whenever you think of him, too.
But you're delicate in such a way that happiness feels underserved. As if it will be stolen from you. You're unable to ever fully revel in it for fear of losing it.
Your hesitation is noticed, so Jeongguk meets you halfway. Pulls you close, and wraps his arms around you. Holds you tight. Says, "I think I'm happiest when I'm with you, B."
"You're just saying that," you mumble against his bare chest, and then realise how bloody cold he must be, even if he radiates nothing but warmth. Feel bad for dragging him away from comfort. "Look, let's just go to bed. We're both too tired for this shit. We can talk about it in the morning."
He just nods. Agrees. Follows your lead.
While his body is tired, Jeongguk's mind is not.
When you finally settle into sleep—in his room, this time—he's the one who can't drift off. Just sort of stares at you, and wonders how the fuck something so straightforward is so complicated.
He fails to realise that just because he knows he likes you too doesn't mean you know it.
It's not like he told you. Told you all sorts of lewd shit about your pussy, but never actually told you just how much he adores the way your body rocks a little when you laugh, nor how much he likes the almond-shape that you file your nails into. Has never told you how much he cherishes the fact you challenged him in the way you did on that first Dionysus night. Isn't even sure you remember it.
But he does.
Keeps the memories stored away in his mind where only the fondest of thoughts are allowed to go.
He's never given it much thought, but memories of Hayun go elsewhere. Somewhere between the sections reserved for painful and passive moments. Those sections self-delete the files. It's why he doesn't realise. Doesn't hold onto them.
But he holds on to you when he eventually sleeps.
And when you wake?
Holds you even tighter .
Stretching out a little, you curl back into comfort with him. "Morning."
"Morning, baby."
Oh, god . You're going to die .
He presses a kiss to your head. Hooks his leg over you so that you can't leave.
Yep. Death imminent.
"Sleep okay?" he asks, as if you weren't both outside at ass o'clock debating the very nature of you... 'friendship.'
Surprisingly, you did actually manage to sleep fairly well after it all. Had worn yourself out with all those mental gymnastics of yours.
Adjusting your head to look at him, you hum a confirmation. Spend a moment or so just taking him in.
Eyes shut, his dark lashes splay over the tops of his cheeks. The curves of his face contrast with the harshness of his angles; full cheeks, sharp jaw. Soft lips, hard lip ring. Delicate cupids bow, defined childhood scar along his cheekbone, indented on his freckled skin. A man of complexities, Jeongguk will always confuse you to a certain degree.
"Had a dream about you," he mumbles quietly. Is still half asleep.
"Oh yeah?" You smile, toying with some of his hair.
"Mhmm," he nods, the side of his face rubbing against the soft cotton on the pillowcases. Squeezes you even tighter. God, he loves being with you. "You said you like me."
And suddenly your cheeks flame. You try and squirm away, but he doesn't let you. Just laughs.
Knowing you as intimately as he does, Jeongguk knows you were bullshitting when you said you'd talk about it in the morning. Knows that he has to be the one to mention it, but knows that anything other than jokes about it will make you get all defensive.
"So cute, B," he teases, grip tight around you as you flounder.
"Fuck off!"
"You like me soooo much," he teases, because it's sweet, and it is cute, and it makes him feel all fuzzy inside. The way you're wriggling and trying to get out of his embrace confirms one thing: yes, he would still love you as a worm.
"I like it when you shut up," you scowl, accepting your fate of being trapped in his arms. You kinda hate yourself for admitting it. Kinda feel awful for the fact he's not said it back.
You fail to realise that it's because he's a boy, and is stupid.
But then again, so are you - how could you not know the poor boy is beside himself with giddy excitement over the fact you finally gave him an inclination as to how you feel.
"No," he grins, eyes still closed, arms still tight. "You like me."
"I think you're a tit."
He opens just a single eye. Pulls his head back, and sticks out his bottom lip. "Okay? We both know you like tits"—
" God ."
" Jeongguk , not God, baby," he corrects you. Calls you baby as if there's a ring around your finger and both of your names on a joint lease. "Sex God, yes, but just a mere mortal man unfortunately."
"You're so fuckin' annoying," you grumble—yet when he loosens his grip, your arm slinks around his waist instead.
"Gotta get up," he says. Forces you up with him. Sees your naked body for 0.1 seconds and drags you back to bed with him. Decides, "Breakfast can wait."
Though on a technicality, it could be argued that breakfast is exactly what he has before you eventually surface from his room half an hour later.
Hair half up in a claw clip, one of Jeongguk's shirts french-tucked into your jeans, there's a glow about you as you walk side by side up to the main house. He's talking nonsense about a film you've never seen, and you're just enjoying listening to him. You encourage his enthusiastic points, and promise that you'll watch it and compare notes with him.
By the time you approach the kitchen, everyone else is already there.
"What time do you call this?" Yoongi scolds, but Jeongguk just shrugs. Sort of positions himself in front of you. Reaches behind himself to tuck you a little further out of any judgemental eyes.
"Time you got a watch," Jeongguk deadpans.
Yoongi smiles. Doesn't actually give a shit. Is just teasing. "I've got a watch. It says it's about time you got a new joke."
"Oh, shit," Jeongguk gasps, then reaches into the pocket of his loose-fit jeans. Paired with a white vest and baggy sweatshirt, he's every bit the nineties heartthrob. The chain he always wears is on show, and it drives you a little wild. Rummaging around in his pocket —"I could have sworn I had a new joke in here"— everyone knows what he's gonna do.
They're proven correct when he pulls his hand out of his pocket, his middle finger pointing to the sky.
"You're a child," Namjoon grins.
Jeongguk doesn't deny it. Just beams as he sinks into the sofa, leaving a you-sized space next to him.
You glance over to Danbi, who outstretches her legs to fill the space beside her. Rids you of your options. Smirks in your direction. You're welcome.
Narrowing your eyes in her direction as you take your seat, Jeongguk seemingly abandons all previous restraints he had. Tucks his hand between your legs and holds your knee.
From across the room, Hayun's gaze burns into you.
And yet the soft stroke of Jeongguk's thumb against your legs soothes the scorching arrows she's firing at you.
The rest of the group are embroiled in conversations, the TV also on, so no one notices when you lean over to speak quietly, just loud enough for Jeongguk to hear you.
"Hayun's staring," you tell him, 'cause you've decided that playing it cool has done no one any favours so far.
You're a little bit insane, but Jeongguk already knows this. Likes it. There's no point trying to pretend like you're not just to one-up Hayun. Pretending like you don't care will only serve to hurt you in the long-run.
Jeongguk tilts his head to look at you. Lets a slightly lopsided grin settle on his lips as says, "Well, yeah." His eyes drop to your body, then back up to your lips. Linger for a moment. Finally reach your eyes again. "You look fit as fuck. I'd be staring, too."
"I don't think that's why she's staring."
"Okay," Jeongguk accepts, knowing that even if the conversation is unserious, you've mentioned it for a reason. His hand comes to tuck a little strand of hair behind your ear, then clasps your chin and tilts your head upwards. Gets you looking at him with narrowed eyes and a curious smile. His fingers drop to your collar, tweaking it a little, as he says, "I've had this shirt for years. She probably knows it isn't yours."
"Possession is, like, ninety percent of the law," you assure him, a little pouty, and it takes everything in him not to kiss you.
But you're with friends, and shit is still up in the air, and Jeongguk doesn't understand what the fuck is happening between the pair of you. He thinks you're a thing, but, like, he isn't sure and that makes this whole situation so incredibly messy.
What he does know is that Hayun could be screaming blue murder and he wouldn't give a shit. The more he comes to realise how nice it is to be with someone who actually treats him with an ounce of respect, the more he distances himself from his former feelings.
"Sounds like you're trying to exploit a legal loophole," he counters right back.
"So what if I do?" You say, shamelessly flirting in your quiet corner, friends ignorant. Your stomach is full of butterflies, charging around, wings tickling your insides. "Maybe I'll break the law on purpose."
The way you hold your wrists together and present them to Jeongguk—knowing full well he kinda has this weird thing for wrists—is nothing short of cruel.
He knows exactly what you're insinuating. Knows he'd die to get you in a pair of cuffs. Instead, says, "Behave yourself."
It's no use. He's already got a semi.
Hayun is, at least, now in conversation with Taehyung. Something about the interview she had. You're not listening in.
There's also no need for Jeongguk to drag the flirt out. The primary purpose of it was to distract you. Keep your mind on him. Jeongguks secret weapon to ease your mind is to keep you locked on him.
Works every single time.
"You're trouble, B," he smiles fondly, before getting to his feet.
There's no discussion of where he's going—just through to the kitchen. Wants to adjust his trousers, and could also do with some water. You let him go, not really caring to stop him. Autonomy is a wonderful thing.
Instead, you just join in the conversation at hand: A debate over who won the Jilympics, for it was never declared the day before. You come to Seoyeon's defence. Insist your team won. Know full well you didn't.
When Jeongguk returns, you quickly say, "Right Gguk? You agree with me?"
He's got no fuckin' idea what you're on about. Says, "Yeah. Of course. You're right."
The smugness of your smile lets him know what a grave mistake he just made.
"Gguk!" Namjoon groans.
Jimin just smirks. Keeps the taunt of 'pussy-whipped bitch' to himself.
"What?!"
"His word is final," you assert before any clarification can be given. "Power in numbers. More people think our team won"—
"Wait, what?!"
"Shhh, Gguk, I'm doing important business," you hush him—but suddenly your mouth is covered by his palm.
"Don't listen to her!" He wails. "She's a fraud!"
Naturally, the only thing you can do in this situation is bite his finger.
"Ah— shit . Mother fucker!"
"What Jeongguk means to say is Team Seoyeon won," you smile with such nonchalance that your friends can't help but laugh at how ridiculous and petty both you and Jeongguk are.
Match made in heaven, some would say.
When he sits back down, he just sits straight on you. Is deliberately annoying. Not a single person bats an eyelash. It's expected of him. They've known him long enough to know what he's like. In fact, there are only a few laps in the room that haven't been sat on by Jeongguk and his need to be a petulant brat.
Nobody sees—'cause Jeongguk's obscuring you—but you bite him again. Just the shoulder blade. He's sitting in such a position that you can't move your hands, so it's your only real offensive weapon.
It's cute, Jeongguk thinks. Cute that you think you're strong enough to hurt, and cute that you've chosen to bite him. He turns his head over his shoulder. Mumbles, "Careful. I'm into that."
In all honesty, he's passive when it comes to using teeth in the bedroom. Likes a little bite on occasion, but by no means needs it. Just knows that you'll recoil in disgust, and it'll make him laugh.
You do just as he expects.
And like clockwork, he giggles to himself. Slides off your lap, but remains a little sprawled over you, just 'cause he can be.
Again, no one really pays it much notice.
Instead, the morning crawls on by. There's no attempt to hurry it up. In all honesty, the constant activities have worn everyone out.
If Jeongguk and Hoseok hadn't planned such a chill afternoon, then they would have been tempted to cancel it in favour of chucking a movie on the TV.
Much like your birthday—and actually inspired by it—they get everyone crafting. In this case, it's painting. A couple dozen canvases have been purchased, and the rest of the supplies were sneakily stolen from your place of work by Hoseok. You recognise it all—the brushes, the paints, the aprons—and find yourself laughing.
So often watching other people paint, you never really get the chance to do it yourself. It's a shame, considering how much you enjoy it. You're no Picasso, but you're not bad.
The rules are simple for the activity, so much as the fact that there are no rules. Knowing that their activity would fall towards the end of a busy weekend, the boys had settled on something of a little slower pace.
A playlist of chill songs curated by Jeongguk hums from the speaker in the kitchen, the large glass doors open, turning the lawn and house into a hybrid space. The supplies are kept inside, but you all opt to paint outside.
Laying flat on your tummy, you're painting the view ahead of you. It's all shades of blue and little else, an uninterrupted horizon that extends for miles upon miles.
In a small cluster with Danbi and Hoseok, it's nice to be with your people.
Yoongi and Seoyeon are in their own little world, doing portraits of one another, and Taehyung has roped the rest of the boys into posing for him in human pyramid formation. Jeongguk and Namjoon are stable as the bottom pillars, with Jimin taking the top spot.
You're not really sure what Nabi and Hayun are doing. Choose not to glance their way. It's a shame, because you really do like Nabi.
The awkwardness is beginning to grate on you. All you want is an easy life.
Regardless of the current state of affairs, once upon a time, Hayun had been liked by everyone here. She was a fundamental part of the friendship group. It sort of makes you think that maybe you should make an effort with her.
Not in some lame-ass attempt to be a 'cool' girl. You've already decided that you don't care to be one. Moreso as a white flag. You intend on sticking around, and so you're gonna have to learn to live with one another.
"I'm not saying I want to be besties with her," you tell Danbi. "But it wouldn't hurt to at least try and find some common ground, would it?"
Danbi mulls it over. Isn't so sure. Doesn't really think you should have to make an effort at all.
"Look, I won't lie," you add on when Danbi doesn't respond quickly enough. "She irritates me, but what else am I supposed to do? Can't go through life acting as if she doesn't exist."
"You can," Danbi assures you. "I would."
As much as you know this to be absolutely true, you're just not wired in the same way as Danbi.
The very first night you met Hayun, you were unable to keep your cool. Argued with her over the dumbest shit just because you were so incensed that she had the audacity to question your presence in Jeongguk's life.
Things are different, now.
You're secure in your place. He's made it that way. Made it clear that he puts you above Hayun.
He's trying.
It's only fair that you try, too.
When Jeongguk finally comes to join you, also laying flat on his tummy, but opposite you on the other side of your canvas, you choose against raising the topic. Decide not to tarnish the simplicity of him choosing to be with you now with any negative thoughts.
Not looking at him as you mumble nonsense about nothing, you continue to add hues of blue to the canvas, and don't object when he picks up a thin brush and starts to add pretty little stars in your sky.
Painting has always been a group activity for the pair of you. He can put it in the living room next to your tits.
The afternoon dissolves into an easy state of being. Mindless chatter is paired with the act of quite literally watching paint dry, but no one finds it boring. Respite had been needed, and you're quietly smitten with the fact that Jeongguk is one of the masterminds behind it. So big brain of him. So sexy.
Lazing next to you, paint smeared on his cheeks by your messy fingers earlier that afternoon, Jeongguk really can't be bothered to shower before dinner. Moans and groans, until you say you'll shower with him.
He's up and on his feet, holding a towel by his door within no time at all.
"Chop chop," he tells you, pretty face ever so pleasant. Eyes wide and round, there's something about him—hair dishevelled, skin covered in paint—that just takes you back to the early days. Gets you grinning from ear to ear.
Holding out his hand as you stand, Jeongguk pulls you closer. Presses a teeny tiny kiss to your lips, 'cause he can't ever seem to stop now that the boundary has been broken down.
"We're a mess," you smile against his lips.
Literally and figuratively.
And as you step out of his room, hand in hand with lovesick smiles on your lips, only to find Nabi and Hayun doing their makeup for the evening ahead in the communal sitting room, you realise things are about to get a whole lot messier.
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