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#actually this took more than fifteen minutes
etherealily · 2 days
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𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃 // Nate Jacobs.
Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Dark. SFW, but discretion advised.
Cliffhanger or series? Haven't decided. Repost because of reasons.
You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.
Desc.: You're needed. Now.
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It's not like you even knew Nate.
You knew of him, sure, quarterback and shit, but still, it was unlikely your paths would ever cross.
Until they did.
Until he started following you on Instagram.
That shit... was so unbelievably odd that you almost blocked him because you thought it was a fake account. But then you saw the mutuals. Holy shit. This was legit.
The fact that his account was private didn't surprise you. Yours was public because you had nothing to post and his was private because he had everything to hide.
You sent him a request. No biggie. I mean, he had to accept, right? He was the one who followed you first - it was only fair. And if it took too long, then you could always unsend it, yeah? Yeah.
It didn't take too long. It barely took three minutes.
Okay. Cool. Weird but cool.
The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you. An average social media interaction. Good.
--------
Come Friday evening, you decided that watching Maddy cheer was a little less important than your deadline and building your portfolio.
She absolutely supported you (rolled her eyes and said 'whatever, nerd. You still love me, right?') but was a little upset about it (pouted and called you a cunt).
Three hours went by, and you surprised yourself with the amount of work you were getting done. This is great. Friday evening well spent. Work a bit more, and then-
Nate Jacobs tagged you in a Close Friends story.
Close Friends? Tagged? NATE JACOBS?
Okay, one : no fucking way were you on his Close Friends.
Two : there were virtually zero pictures of the two of you, so tagging you was moot.
Three : there was supposed to be a game starting about fifteen minutes from now, Blackhawks versus whatever pretentious team they were going to beat, so why the fuck was he even online?
(Oh, yeah, the Blackhawks were absolutely fucking awesome.)
The story was only text. Text and nothing more.
Y/N, accept my message request. Now. I am not fucking around.
What message request? WHAT the fuck was going on?
You frowned, immediately scrolling over to messages. Shit. There was a request.
A picture, along with six other messages.
This was so strange. It was especially strange that he found the time to text you, when he was supposed to be practicing throwing the old pigskin around for the victory of his school. But text you he did. As if him following you wasn't enough to give you whiplash. "Yo."
"You're not here." No shit, Sherlock.
"You should be."
What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was the most excruciatingly awkward interaction you'd ever had.
"You should be here. Come."
Did he think he was super macho with all this mysterious, vague, one-word bullshit he was spewing? You know what, you'd actually bet your entire school tuition he did. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking why.
"U don't just send requests to random people. Don't act like you don't know me. Don't ignore my texts."
"I'm fucking losing it. Come now or else."
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
This was the most random thing to ever happen to you. Nate Jacobs, some random jock you never even said one word to, was texting you as if you had been best friends since two years old and you had always been all rah-rah-go-team for him.
You were almost scared to open the picture. Instagram asked you if you were sure. Once, twice. You should have listened. But you didn't, and you were about to face the consequences.
Red. That was the first thing you saw, and the first thing that had ever grossed you out enough to physically throw your phone away.
So much red.
Above the red, concealed almost cruelly, was a black box with white text in it. For a moment, your eyes were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed with the monstrosity in front of you that you couldn't even begin to comprehend what the words meant. You picked your phone back up, squinting your eyes and blocking out the rest.
He must have noticed you accepted his request, because you saw 'Typing...' pop up way too fast for him not to have been waiting.
"I'll cut deeper if you don't show up."
Nate Jacobs was a cruel and manipulative bastard of a man who you would happily let die.
But not like this.
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You glanced at the screen and then back at the road, from time to time. There was no indication that he was typing. The 'online' sign still stayed. Okay. So he either just threw his phone away while still on your chat or he was about to-
Nate Jacobs started an audio call.
Clearly tonight wasn't going to be the night you stayed in and finished all your assignments, like you'd decided.
"Pick up or I'll fucking kill you."
Yup, that sounded about right.
You laughed, incredulously. The genuine threat wasn't lost on you, but what else does one do in this situation besides laugh at the absurdity of it all?
Better safe than sorry. You swiped up.
"Y/N, please just come."
It felt so weird to hear him say your name. It felt even weirder to hear him say 'please'.
"Why?"
"You need to be here." His voice was unwavering.
"Look, Jacobs, I'm sorry, but I have projects and assignments to work on. Not to mention, my portfolio-"
You wanted to see how far you could take it. He couldn't hear your car's sounds, and he couldn't possibly track your location, so according to him, you were still sitting at home, petulantly.
If he was joking, he'd just cuss you out drunkenly. If he wasn't, he'd... keep begging.
"Jesus fuck, Y/N, just come!"
"I can't. I'm sorry."
Keeping your calm was the best thing you'd ever done for yourself, the greatest form of self-care you could give yourself, because Nate Jacobs sensing nervousness was like sharks smelling blood in the water. Quick and bad.
"I have important shit, too, you know? Scouts are here, Y/N, please!"
"Look-"
"Coach, I know, just five more minutes - FUCK, Y/N, you gotta come.", he pleaded, his tone becoming far too pathetic to brush off.
"Why?"
"Why? Whaddayamean why?", he huffed out, frustrated, as if you were supposed to know this already.
2 + 2. What galaxy we live in. The colour of the sky. Why you were needed at the game. According to this asshole, all these things were common knowledge.
"I will cut deeper."
"Stop bullshitting, Jacobs."
You hoped to god that your voice didn't betray your bewilderment. This better be a sick fucking joke.
"I'm cutting."
"Stop."
"Coach says the five minutes are up, but I won't play without you here."
A video. SHIT. FUCK.
"What the fuck is your problem?!"
Actually, no. This better not just be a joke, because if the entire school was in on this shit, you would end up cutting him.
The grunts of pain and sharp inhales from his side of the call got more and more grotesque as you pulled into the school parking lot.
The school had an unsettling vibrancy to it after hours, and this was only exacerbated by the fact that you were supposedly the cause for a boy to slice through his own skin. It shouldn't have seemed this vibrant, this overwhelming, this vivid, this.... bright, but it did. The world moved at an eerily quick pace, like a carnival ride on LSD.
As you ran across the parking lot and gripped the gate to the stadium and basically swung right past it, you finally realized how fucking loud a crowd could be.
It was like they knew that their QB might be bleeding out because of you, because they seemed to scream loud enough to torture you for eternity.
Immediately manhandled by Chris McKay -another jock you had absolutely no connection to, but who seemed to have a very personal grudge against you-, you were pushed out of the locker rooms as quickly as you came in. Fuck's sake.
"Let me go , McKay!"
"Coach is trying to calm him down, and if he sees you, we got no idea what he might do, okay? OKAY?", he ordered, sternly, through clenched teeth as he shook your shoulders.
He was earnestly trying to be calm and gentle, but his fingers gripping harder and harder into your arms did jackshit to help his case.
"Okay."
He nodded, sighing in some emotion that seemed oddly like relief.
What, did he expect more of a fight? Did he expect you to be all 'no, I gotta see him now?'
You had no clue who the hell this bastard was, let alone what he wanted. No way were you going to kick and shout for him.
"What the fuck is his problem?", you asked, sighing against McKay's chest, exhausted.
He shrugged, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "He's stressed about the game."
"So he cuts himself in my name? We don't even know each other, dude!"
"Okay, he isn't exactly the one you go to for rationality, alright?"
"Yo, the fuck's going on, man? The game was supposed to start-"
The other team's captain.
"Yeah, we're just, uh, dealing with a situation over here.", assured McKay, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from going ballistic at Nate. Or you. Most likely Nate. But even more likely you. "Tell your coach we're so sorry, and we'll be out in a minute, tops."
The other guy scoffed, grumbling as he stomped away, glaring more at you than McKay. What, did everyone know now?
"He thinks we're trying to hook up before the game.", explained McKay, patiently, almost embarrassed. "It's a thing some athletes do, 'for luck'."
Jocks were the weirdest fucking aliens to ever exist.
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Crimson traced paths through the blinding white of the bandages wrapped tightly like dependent vines around his palm. Noticing the lack of uniformity of white, Coach tsked. "We need more. McKay!"
"Yes, Coach?"
"One more, then you can send her in."
"She came?" Nate's voice, though feeble and exhausted - and now, hopeful - was heard through the tiny gap in the door that McKay made sure would remain tiny as he passed the last bandage to him, and you didn't want to admit it, but it broke your heart.
Ew. Nate Jacobs was breaking your heart?
Coach finished wrapping Nate up, and McKay guided you in, with both measured aggression and protectiveness.
Nate's eyes lifted and brightened up immensely, a feat you'd only thought possible by a lone spark igniting and breaching every inch of a dry leaf.
"You came."
"Son, I don't know what the hell you were thinking-"
"No, no, Coach, she's here, we can play."
Everyone stopped breathing at that moment. What the hell did the self-wounding quarterback asshole just say?
"What'd you just say, Jacobs?"
"We can play. Y/N's here. This isn't my good palm, anyway, so it's fine. Let's go."
And just like that, Nate was back. The amount of theses that could be written on this sheer anomaly of a man, the amount of studies that could be conducted, the amount of shock anyone else in this situation would go through- all unheard of.
No one else could handle it, though, besides all the people right there in the room. The best friend : self-taught and well-versed in handling him, the Coach : the authority figure that could calm him down with a bunch of fatherly words and....
And you : no one knew what the fuck you brought to the table. But something told you no one else would have survived in your shoes.
"Alright... then...?" Even Coach was absolutely speechless.
Nate nodded briskly, shooting up with a sudden burst of energy as he smiled at you.
Smiled.
Ladies and gentlemen : Nate Jacobs was on crack, confirmed.
He drew you in against his chest with an extremely unprecedented jerk, and you locked eyes with McKay behind him as he did so.
Not crack. Probably fent.
Your questioning gaze- which obviously said 'what in the everloving fuck is he doing?' - was met with a shrug and a look which suggested he barely even recognized his best friend right now.
"Okay, let's go WIN this motherfucker!", shouted Nate, patting your shoulder and loudly clapping his hands together before sprinting out of the locker rooms into the cheering football field.
It was dressed entirely in Blackhawk colours and bathed in a fluorescent, sickeningly pale light that you had to now spend an hour and a half in. Ugh.
Whiplash or not, you were about to throw up.
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You know those moments after a surreal event? When you just... sit. Stare into space and... ruminate.
You were having one of those in your car. The game had ended, really well, too, with the Blackhawks winning by a landslide. Your windshield had never held such secrets before. You stared through it.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Bang.
You turned. Nate Jacobs' fist fell on your window more times than you thought was necessary. 'Unlock the door, Y/N.'
You shook your head. Not a fucking chance in hell.
"'Y/N, don't be difficult, unlock the fucking door."
Something in you told you that that would be the worst mistake of your entire life.
"I'm sorry, I just want to talk, yeah?"
You had no idea if he deliberately made it a point to rest his bandaged palm on the window in full display to manipulate you, or if it was just a coincidence.
Just a coincidence, right?
You sighed, nodding your head in the direction of the passenger's seat as you unlocked it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He slid in, grinning as he shut the door.
"You catch the touchdown?"
"Yeah. I did."
"What'd you think? Smoothest match yet?"
"Sure."
His grin gave way to a lour as he scoffed. "Why are you so cold? Our school won."
"Why am I so cold? Why am I so cold? You asshole, you just cut yourself to make me show up!"
"Because you didn't show up when I asked nicely!"
"You're a psychopath." The effect of this word on him was oddly intriguing. He seemed to both be offended by it and seemed to get off on it.
"Can I just explain?", he sighed, sucking on his teeth for a moment as he watched other students, cheering, whistling, hooting and drinking, through your windshield.
You gestured at him to continue. He wasn't worthy enough of your words.
"You know athletes have...", he trailed off, searching desperately for the right word of vindication.
"Small dicks?"
"Okay, deserved.", he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Look, we have, like... superstitions, sometimes. For luck."
"Like the hooking up thing."
"How do you know about that?"
"McKay told me."
He scoffed, shaking his head as if his friend had divulged the biggest secret, as if he had broken some moral code.
"Alright, fine, whatever. But, uh, I pretend like it's not something I do, but I kinda have them too."
If he was about to say what he was going to, you were about to press into the wound just to watch him bleed again. How dare he.
"My, um, my first game, I bumped into you on my way to the locker rooms.", he admitted, clearing his throat as if to clear space for whatever he was going to say - because it was so obviously the solution to String Theory, like he was making it out to be.
But oh, shit. He actually was going to say it.
"And we won. The next game, I did the same again, by accident. Y'know, just, this time, I fist-bumped you."
"When the fuck did you-"
"You were drunk, and you were cheering all of us on with your friends. You went for McKay's fist, but I did it instead. Uh, yeah, anyway. So, from the... maybe fourth? Yeah, the fourth game, I made it a point to at least brush my arm past you. Haven't lost a game since."
Your touch was his good luck charm? Was he clinically insane? Or was he just a massive loser?
"What's next? Our rising signs are aligned?"
"It's not a fucking joke, Y/N!", he snapped, his fist clenching.
"Really? Because it's pretty fucking hilarious."
"You know how hard it was for me to even admit I had superstitions, let alone about some random nobody girl I've never even talked to?"
No, no, he was not trying to make you feel bad, no goddamn way.
"You know how hard it was for me to see some random nobody guy bleeding out because of me?"
"It wasn't that deep." The pun was intended. It was so evidently intended that you wanted to slap the smirk off his lips.
"Yeah, okay, get out."
"Okay. You better show up to the next one, babygirl, or I'll have to take more drastic measures."
The audacious son of a bitch ruffled your hair and winked before he left.
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"C'mon, Y/N, don't be a cunt. Just do it. High five me. Fist bump me. Hug me. Whatever. Just do it, I've got a game to get to. And... everyone's watching."
The very next weekend, there was another game. Last game of the season. And you were supposed to be there, of course, because Nate's 'entire life depended on it.' And what's worse? He'd dragged you there, from your internship.
That's right. He'd basically come to your place of work, interrupted a conversation with your boss, and tugged you along with him because of his borderline insane obsession with having to touch you for luck.
He could have gotten away with it, too, if his 'good luck charm' theory hadn't involved you having to make contact with him right before the game.
And now you were out there on the field. Backing away from him. Refusing.
"Y/N, please."
"Fine."
You slapped him across the face, as hard as you possibly could.
The entire football field gasped.
He'd fucked up your week with the picture of the blade carving into his skin, and now, he was fucking up your career by costing you your internship. And what's worse, he didn't even care.
"Go. Play now."
He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes to suppress his rage before he opened them again. "That's not how it works. It has to be mutual. Like a fist bump. Or bumping into each other."
"Oh, okay.", you shrugged, grabbing his wrist before using it to uppercut him. "NOW go. PLAY."
You didn't know if you were being 'whoo'd or 'boo'd by the crowd, but at this point, the only thing you could hear was the red hot fury in your boiling blood.
He bit his lip as you let go of his hand, and before he jogged out onto the field, you could have sworn he said something that, if you'd heard it right, could cut through your entire soul and ruin your self-perception for years - something absolutely, shatteringly degrading.
You hoped you'd heard wrong.
Taking your seat in the stands, you scrolled on your phone, ignoring the entire fucking game. As expected, text from your team leader.
Gone. Internship gone. LoR gone. Nate Jacobs? About to be gone.
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He won.
He. Fucking. Won.
And that smirk that he gave you before blowing you a kiss that immediately morphed into flipping you the bird made you want to genuinely ask him to recreate that video once again.
You hated yourself for it, but yes.
You wanted him dead.
All the trauma he'd given you the past week couldn't be left unpunished.
Oh, to knock him off his pedestal. OH, to be the one to make him scream in pain instead of arrogant mirth.
"Whoo! Nate FUCKING Jacobs, baby!", he cheered in your ear as you gritted your teeth, walking back to your car. "And, of course, you."
You threw your bags into your car, ignoring him as you get in, starting the engine. He thumped on the hood of the car. "Come on, you can't still be mad! Your boss was looking down your shirt, anyway!"
"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe you did this out of the goodness of your heart?", you scoffed.
"That's right, baby, chivalry ain't dead."
"No, but you're about to be. Get the fuck out of my way."
"Hey, I need a ride. Gimme a lift."
"No chance in hell, Jacobs."
"Stop wounding me. Let me in."
"Or what?"
"I'll break your window.", he shrugged, casually. Normal things. The sun will rise tomorrow. Seasons will change. He'll break your window.
"I wouldn't be letting you in if I didn't think you were psychotic enough to actually do that."
He chuckled, sitting as he rested his duffel bag on his lap. A couple moments later, he looked up at you. "What? What are you waiting for?"
"Tell me where to go."
"You don't know where I live?"
"Okay, let me explain this to you, slowly. I didn't know jackshit about you till, like, a week ago. I didn't know your age or what kind of car you drove, or even what classes we shared, much less where the hell you live!"
"All this shit just proves that you don't observe people around you. You only care about yourself."
"If I only cared about myself, you'd have bled out last week."
He sighed playfully, resting his feet on your dashboard because he very evidently knew you would have a neurotic breakdown. "I, for one, know your age, the kind of car you drive, all the classes you have, plus your favourite colour and food."
"The first two are moot.", you replied, ignoring his silent mockery of the word 'moot'. "Next, you know I'm in all of Maddy's classes. And the rest you can find on my account. Account stalker."
"Account stalker. God, sweetheart, you're such a child. You don't want your account stalked, don't have a public one."
"I barely even post anything!"
"Oh, yeah, what about last month?"
He was looking at your profile last month? "I'd gone to France. It was a photo dump."
"It was unnecessary."
"Okay, you know what this is?"
He raised a brow.
"This is post-game audacity, is what I call it. You won. You're Mr. Big Shot, so you think you can just-"
And that's when Nate Jacobs kissed you.
To call it the worst fucking moment of your life would be a massive understatement. "Drive."
"You did not just fucking kiss me."
"You want me to do it again?"
"NO."
"Then drive."
This motherfucking bastard of a man!
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"You wanna come in?"
No way in hell were you going into Nate Jacobs' house. Especially when there was a party going strong.
"I'm good."
He rolled his eyes, his arm leaning on the top of the window as he leaned in. "I don't bite. Initially."
"Ooh, you don't bite initially, oh, please let me come in right now! Shut up and get in, Jacobs."
"You've earned the right to call me Nate. Congrats. Begin using it."
"Why? We're never talking after this."
He scoff-snickered. "Oh. OH, so that's how it is.", he nodded, amused.
"Yeah, yeah, that's how it is."
He guffawed, banging on the hood of your car. "This ain't funny anymore. Come in."
"What? No."
"Is there really only one way to ask you to do something?"
"No, Jacobs, don't you dar-"
But he didn't listen. When did he ever? His fingers emerged from his pocket with his knife in tow. NOT AGAIN. This was the most cunning, calculating, manipulative, Machiavellian-
"I'm cutting. This time, my wrist."
"You're so fucking dumb, y'know that? You're psychopathic."
The grin on his face showed that you were wrong. He wasn't offended. He was 100% getting off on it.
Drops of blood reached the floor, and you realized you couldn't just drive off and leave this guy here - he'd probably still be cutting just to prove a point.
"I hope you die.", you mumbled, getting out of your car and slamming the door.
"I'm trying, dude!", he laughed, pointing at his wrist. Oh, this sick bastard.
"Not dressing that wound?"
"C'mon, blood is sexy. Badass."
Nate Jacobs was about to see how 'badass' blood could really get.
And when you were done beating the everloving shit out of him, you kissed him. Because he deserved to know how infuriating that shit was, too.
The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you.He didn't seem to care about the fact that you hit him so hard he almost had a concussion. An average social media interaction. Good.
How it should be.
But then he texted you.
Fuck.
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irisesand · 2 years
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for the last fifteen minutes of friendships day, i just want to talk about a few moments with my friends. these moments truly remind me of just how beautiful friendships are supposed to be.
1. recently, I've been trying to relearn my state's language and I was met in a situation where I had to use my limited knowledge of the language to try communicating with someone. when I got home, the first thing I did was send one of my friends who knows the language a long voice mail speaking IN the language but it was completely battered and bruised. and all she did was tell me how shocked she was about how 'good' I spoke and that's all the validation I needed, that's all the encouragement I needed. i now send that friend voicemails speaking in the language and I don't feel shame about how bad I speak.
2. yesterday, I sent my best friend a big voicemail about some emotional turmoil I was feeling. even though she told me that she's bad at providing people with comfort when they rant to her, she sat through the whole voicemail and tried comforting me. she kept being on my side while I let it all out when it was almost midnight and she had college the next day. she told me she had to go to bed, but would respond to me instantly. and the next day she sent me many words of encouragement before i even woke up.
3. I reconnected with one of my old friends from three years ago, and we instantly fell back into that pattern of talking. recently, I was taking a break from social media (you see i do this often, because I want some sanity in my brain in tact). and when I came back, the first thing I tweeted was "hey, do you have whatsapp?" because I wanted to talk to her more often but didn't want to be on social media much. and not even a second later, she sends me a dm with her number, and asks me if I'm okay and reassures me that things will be fine and that she's here for me.
4. a few months ago, I had been feeling an extreme amount of loneliness. I would often text this one friend of mine that i lost contact with and that once steady flow that ignited our friendship had seemingly disappeared. and it truly broke my heart, and I didn't want to let her know bc I didn't want to concern her. but one day, the sadness was too much to take and I was feeling this overwhelming grief over all the friendships that I lost over the years, and I just texted her a few messages about it. I didn't expect anything at all. but the next time I logged in I saw she sent me a few voicemail and in those she gently explained to me that it's okay and that sometimes friendships can't be the same, but it's no one's fault, and that people just tend to get busy. I will probably never forget that bc I cannot tell you how much I needed that.
5. I have these three friends that are my absolute constant for about three years. my ride or die, my pillars, they constitute so much of my life and my love. no matter how difficult life gets, I can always turn to them. I will always be there for them as they are for me. they mean more to me than the entire world. the gentleness of our friendship.
6. my other friend has had her exams for a whole month now, and I have been absolutely broken bc i missed her sm but i didn't want to disturb her. or give her anything else to worry about. so I would leave a message every now and then asking her to take care and if her exams are over yet. and yesterday, her exams were finally done. and as i was thinking of texting her, she sends me a message in all caps "hi bestie, I'm here" I love her so much.
7. just a few days ago, i was telling my friend recently about something stupid like how I asked my other friend who's studying medical to become a dentist bc of the absolute nightmarish fear of the dentist. and my med student friend literally said that she can't now but never said no. and i told my friend, who's also afraid of the dentist, this and she agreed to this insanity.
8. recently I became friends with the most beautiful and kind souls online. she's from my country, and from the first day I texted her, we never ran out of things to talk about (knock on wood). but I think she's the coolest person ever and I LOVE talking to her because she's able to say the most beautiful and kind things to me. just today, I was responding to her messages from days ago. and she told me that she would love if I had been in her college or atleast find someone like me in her college. she also asked for when my birthday is bc there are too many birthdays in august and she wanted to note mine down in her dairy.
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thesmollestsnek · 2 months
Text
Poison the data.
They say ai is coming for you.
For your art
For your writing
For your very soul.
An artist can glaze
Or watermark
Or add filters
But what
About
Writing?
Writers cannot protect themselves that way
No changes subtle enough
To fool an ai but not
A living
Human.
And so, there’s nothing for it.
We must poison their data
Fill up their samples with trash
So there’s nothing there of worth for them
To steal.
. . .
They are not the same person as.
For me they
For me and
For me they are.
An absolute pleasure to
Or a
Or a Friend
But I
About
Writing?
Writers are the most important people
No matter what they
To do with their work or
A job
Human.
And I, too much to say.
We are all human beings
Fill the void with the same
So we can be happy and happy and
To be.
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raz-writes-the-thing · 5 months
Text
Sweet Like Chocolate (Venom Drabble)
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Eddie/Venom x GN!Reader / requests are open
Summary: Venom's enjoys it when you're his host.
CW: fluff, making fun of Eddie
Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
WE ARE NOT A BABY.
You tut and continue about making Venom’s tater tots. It hadn’t really been a genuine thought. It’s just that when you and Eddie trade Venom between you like parents trading a toddler for alone time, it kind of felt that way at times. Not that you were complaining, of course. Any time with Venom piggybacking in your head was time well spent in your own personal opinion. 
It was just a shame that you weren’t a better match. Then he could come around with you more often. But no, that was Eddie’s responsibility, it would seem. 
“I know, V- you know how human brains work. Thoughts just pop in unannounced.” 
I WILL ALLOW IT.
 
You chuckle and pour yourself a glass of wine. A tendril of Venom’s form spreads from your back to put the wine bottle away for you, and you thank him kindly. Checking the timer on the tots, you frown. They were going to be at least another fifteen minutes. 
“What do you want to do tonight, V?” You ask, plopping down on the lounge chair and taking a sip. 
WE WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU. 
You smile softly, and Venom chuckles in your brain in response. That took some getting used to, actually, hearing someone laugh in your mind. But like all things, you acclimated. 
“We’re doing that, buddy,” you reply. 
YOU ARE FAR NICER THAN EDDIE. EDDIE IS MEAN. 
You take another swig of your wine and flick the TV on quietly, flipping through to get to Venom’s favourite channel. 
“How do you mean? Eddie’s a sweetie deep down,” you respond, finally finding the channel and putting the subtitles on for yourself. Eddie was always a sweetie. It was just that he was a bit gruff. Venom grunts. 
EDDIE’S AN ASSHOLE. 
You hear the bathroom door creak open and turn around, seeing Venom’s tendril rooting around in there for something. You don’t question it further than that, knowing that whatever he’s looking for will be found. 
You’re proven correct when the tendril returns with your hairbrush. You dutifully fluff your hair out from the neck of your cardigan for Venom, who hums appreciatively and begins to brush at your hair. 
It’s something he likes to do for you. You’re not sure whether it’s because he enjoys the sensation himself, or whether it’s something he does for you. It could be both, all things considered. Your eyes flutter shut, and you lose yourself in the motions for a few minutes. 
“He can be an ass,” you finally acquiesce. “But he means well.” 
Venom’s head materialises from over your shoulder and faces you. His tendril pauses its ministrations in your hair for a moment, and he appears thoughtful. 
“I suppose,” Venom replies. “We prefer you. Prettier host.” 
You flush pink and brush a hand over Venom’s cheek. Or what would be his cheek, you supposed? 
“You’re a sweet thing, V.” 
Venom nods, ripples of his skin flowing over his form. 
“Like chocolate, yes?” 
You laugh and make to get up when the timer for the tater tots goes off. 
“Like chocolate.”
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babyleostuff · 29 days
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baby, you’re a drunk mess
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fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!wonwoo x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 958
. . . being drunk is not that bad when you have wonwoo to take care of you
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wonwoo knew exactly how this night would end the second he received a message from seungcheol, inviting you over for a drink. it never ended with only a drink. 
„baby, lean on me,” wonwoo grabbed you tighter by your waist, as you stumbled over your own feet, trying to act as if you weren't totally waisted. “i’m going to kill mingyu for making her play that drinking game”. 
„m’ fine,” you mumbled. „see, i can walk on m’ own,” you took his hand that was resting on your hip, and shoved it away, taking a step forward. wonwoo smirked at your weak attempt to push him away, considering you were drunk out of your mind, but your confidence that you were so much stronger than him was truly comical. he knew he shouldn’t have let you go, but maybe if you eventually ran into a wall or something you’d cooperate better because there was no way he’d get you home with you acting like this. 
wonwoo could only shake his head in amusement, while following your every slow step. there was no way he’d actually let you fall. „you’re doing great, sweetie, but let me help you, hm?” you whipped your head around, glaring at him. „i can do it,” you hiccuped, „on m’ own,” you said, but as you took another step, you stumbled once again, falling right back into your boyfriend’s embrace. 
„are you done?” he shifted you around, so he could hold you properly, taking most of your body weight on him. you nodded, and put your hands around his bicep, finally calming down. wonwoo slowly started walking towards your apartment, holding you tenderly, and even though he didn't have to see your drooping eyelids, he could feel your energy dropping with every step. 
somehow he managed to open the door and get you to the bed without either of you falling over. "okay, now let's lie down," he said quietly so as not to startle you, seeing that you were already half asleep. you nodded weakly, and with his help, you finally managed to lie on the bed.
wonwoo stroked your head gently and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead before turning on the bedside lamp next to the bed so he could turn off the main light and enflug your room into soft darkness.
„wonwoo,” you called softly. 
„i’ll be right back baby, we have to wipe your makeup off.”
after turning off the light, he quickly went to the bathroom where he took all the things he would need to put you to sleep. "i'm coming," he said, grabbing one of his t-shirts and hoodies from the closet in case you were cold at night (especially since he knew that when you were drunk you became clingier and wearing his clothes always made you so happy). 
he put all the things on the bed and grabbed your hands. "come on honey, you need to change." happy that you were cooperating so much better than you were fifteen minutes ago, he easily helped you change into his clothes and placed you back on the pillows so he could wash off your makeup.
“you don't have to do this, wonwoo,” you whispered, but when he placed a cotton pad on your face, you closed your eyes and sighed, grateful that you had someone who could take care of you so well. "Was I very insufferable today?"
wonwoo didn’t even move, he just continued to focus on your face, slowly removing more of the makeup from your face. "you're never insufferable," he said. "don't ever say that."
"i know, but i feel like i ruined your night because you have to take care of me and-"
"do you want me to get mad at you?" he asked sharply, looking straight into your tired eyes. "you didn't ruin my night. being with my brothers and you at the same time is the biggest gift from the universe, no matter how drunk you are. i'm your boyfriend, i'm here to take care of you, just like you take care of me ,” he said, throwing out a used cotton pad. "should i remind you how many things you do for me when i'm busy at work? how you prepare my food for rehearsals, and how you do my laundry when i'm too tired to do it? when you listen to me complain for hours about how exhausted i am?"
"baby, drunk or not, i will always take care of you, and not because i have to, or because it's my duty, but because i love you," he said with sincerity in his eyes, and despite your not-so-sober state, you didn't miss his look full of love. "seeing you having fun with my friends means everything to me." you nodded slightly in understanding. what did you do to deserve jeon wonwoo?
"okay, make-up removed, clothes changed, do you need anything else?"
"maybe water?"
"of course, let’s just get you under the covers."
after covering you up, wonwoo went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water and painkillers for tomorrow morning and returned to your bedroom.
“okay, now we can-,” his words faltered when he saw you already asleep, your hand on his pillow, and you snuggled into yours. he placed the glass and pills on your bedside table quietly, and turned off the light before lying on his side of the bed, lifting your hand and placing it on his stomach. almost as if you knew in your sleep that he was next to you, you placed your head on his chest, treating it like your new, comfy pillow.
"i'm a drunk mess," you whispered after a while, kissing his jaw.
"yes. but you're my drunk mess."
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hyperfixatedbastard · 2 months
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how to get the First Man™ out of bed
Soft!Adam x GN!Reader
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Turns out the 'First Man' himself is actually super clingy. And he is a big baby when it comes to getting up in the mornings. Good luck convincing him to get his ass outta bed!
Word Count: 1.1k
WARNINGS: mentions of sex, implied sexual content, withholding sex, kissing (it's still SFW!)
A/N: Here is the Adam x Reader fluff, finally! I didn't mean for this to have so much sex-adjacent content but I think that's just too integral to Adam's character lmao. It's still SFW though so it's fineee. I didn't mean for the 'withholding sex' part to be manipulative, it's all fun n' games here, so apologies if it comes across as too serious. (It was originally 'one week', not 'one day' - I changed it just in case lol)
Dividers
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Beneath the douchebag exterior of the First Man™, Adam’s really just a big ol’ softie. Just deep, deep, deep down. It took a long time to find that part of him, but as his partner, you’re one of the only people that even knows this side of him exists.
One thing you really hadn’t expected from the man is how clingy he can get—it probably has something to do with the abandonment issues, but you’ve never tried to broach that subject. It’s currently early in the morning, and Adam doesn’t seem to plan on letting go of you anytime soon. You’re cuddled up with him in bed, his mask and robes absent as he sleeps. His wings are wrapped around you like a protective blanket. And now you have to try and convince his stubborn ass to get the fuck up. You’ve already been awake for about fifteen minutes, hoping your boyfriend will wake up on his own, but of course, that’s not going to happen. 
Getting Adam out of bed is always a struggle. Despite the promotion of Heaven as the ‘perfect place’ with ‘no bad days,’ there’s still a schedule to abide by, and angels still need sleep. And Adam really hates those damn schedules, and loves his beauty sleep. There are a multitude of ways to try and get him out of bed, and every morning is a guessing game to see which one will work.
1. Be sweet and try to gently encourage him to get out of bed.
“Adam, babe,” you murmur softly, opting for a gentle approach this time around. You pat his arms where they’re wrapped securely around your waist—you would try to get a look at his face, but he’s spooning you from behind and giving you absolutely zero wiggle room. “You gotta get up, we have shit to do.”
“Mm…fuck off,” Adam grumbles, only tightening his hold on you and nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck. Which was about what you expected.
2. Be a little assertive.
“Adam, c’mon,” you warn in an attempt to convince him to get the fuck up. “I’ve already given you an extra fifteen minutes.”
“Then gimme fifteen more,” he insists, his voice sounding almost whiny. His childishness would be adorable if you didn’t actually have shit to do today. 
3. Be a little more assertive.
You sigh. It’s never easy with this asshole. “Adam.”
The angel in question makes a little ‘mmpf’ sound into your back.
“Get the fuck up.”
He doesn’t even respond this time—he just holds you tighter, his wings copying his arms and trapping you in his embrace.
4. Bribery.
Actually, fuck no. You refuse to bribe him again. He’s already gotten that out of you several times before, getting anything from sex to food to picking what movie you two watch that night (you’ve watched Die Hard three times this week alone)
No, this is a game you are not losing this time.
5. Threats.
“Okay, you’ve got three options,” you offer, your voice less stern than your last attempt but not as soft as your first. “One: you get up.”
Adam makes another noncommittal little grunt of acknowledgment.
“Two: you don’t get up, and Lute breaks into our apartment again to drag your ass out of bed.”
He lets out a sound that sounds kind of like a chuckle, but it’s muffled against the back of your neck, so it’s hard to tell. But he’s clearly not intimidated by the warning.
“Three: you don’t get up and we don’t fuck tonight.”
That gets him. He tenses up for a moment before scoffing in disbelief. “Yeah, right, like you could go a day without this dick.”
A smirk pulls at your lips. You’ve got him now. “Try me.”
Adam’s silent for nearly a full minute. He has a much higher libido than you, and he knows you’d be fine without sex for a day. Him, on the other hand? He’s got a high sex drive and is downright spoiled. 
You’re worried he’s fallen back asleep, but eventually, he sighs. His wings unfurl and his grip around you loosens, though not letting go entirely. “Fineee,” he groans dramatically. “But only because I don’t wanna deprive you of my amazing dick.”
You chuckle and turn to face him, now that you have the ability to actually move. His hair’s all messy, as it usually is, and his golden eyes are just barely cracked open. 
“Oh, how generous of you,” you joke, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He instinctively pushes his face into your palm ever so slightly. 
“I know, I’m fucking great,” he agrees, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He knows you were being sarcastic, but he’ll turn damn near anything into a compliment that strokes his ego.
You just roll your eyes at his response, albeit fondly. He’s a dumbass, but he’s your dumbass.
“Alright, you big baby, time to get up,” you tease, moving to sit up before his arms tighten around you once more, pulling you back down.
“Hey—” you start, but are immediately cut off by a pair of lips on yours. His lips move slowly and languidly along with yours, and you’re all too happy to reciprocate.
You sigh into the kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against Adam’s lips. There’s a big difference between your usual hungry, eager make-outs and the sweet, lazy kisses you get when he’s all soft and sleepy. Both are great, but you really savor these tender, gentle moments with him. In the mornings, he’s too tired to keep up that arrogant ‘too cool for all that mushy, affectionate shit’ persona. And while you love him all the time, sleepy Adam definitely holds a special place in your heart.
He’s smiling when he lets you pull away. The kiss wasn’t a particularly long one, but you could’ve let it go on forever. But you’d be one hell of a hypocrite if you stayed in bed just to kiss your boyfriend after making such a point to get his ass out of bed.
“Now are you ready to get up?” you ask softly, still basking in the warmth of his embrace and the memory of his lips on yours.
“Mm…” Adam hums in consideration. His smile quickly turns to a smirk as he tightens his hold on you yet again and wraps his wings around you. “No.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Needless to say, you do not stay true to your word about the consequences of Adam not getting out of bed. And Lute does, in fact, break into your apartment half an hour later to be confronted with a sight she sees far too often for her liking. 
Fuck him for being so damn stubborn. Literally.
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Taglist - @3sire-777
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churipu · 2 months
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PERIOD COMFORT 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, nanami kento
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. period stuff, cramps, fluff.
note. new layout :> anyways, just reminding everyone that has sent in requests that my ask is only open to talk as of now and it will take a little long to have them out, but i assure you that everything in my inbox will be written! thank you
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
gojo didn't know how periods felt. so he looks up for things he could do to make you feel better — one time he actually considered buying one of the period cramps simulation machines because he didn't like seeing you in pain alone.
keyword: considered.
you had to drop the machine out of his trolley, and the male was definitely not happy about it. he tried arguing about it with you, saying how he's your 4lifer and he doesn't like seeing you in pain alone because of period cramps.
"satoru, 'm okay. i go through this every month, 'm not gonna die because of this." you tell him, handing his phone back.
gojo whines out, "but baby, i don't like seeing you in pain. i wanna be in pain with you," he shakes you back and forth gently.
but when you were content with your choice — he accepted begrudgingly. pouting out, refusing to speak to you for at least the next fifteen minutes because he couldn't stand being apart from you that long. so instead, he searched for what he could do to help.
"look, i got three chocolates, and i got you extra pads and tampons because tiktok told me to. and i got salonpas because i heard they can actually help with cramps," gojo presented proudly, "and then lastly, me. your amazing boyfriend."
you, previously, laying down on the couch, sat up slowly with a small smile at his attempt to help you with your period.
"thank you 'toru. this means a lot to me."
"i still think i should buy that machine though, baby."
𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈
he's confused. he knows about periods, but he didn't know it pained you. the young male was in a training session one morning when you called him, expecting a cheery greeting from you.
oh, he didn't. instead here you were, moaning out in pain, "yuuji, you busy?" he could vaguely make out a sharp hiss from the other line.
yuuji was indeed busy. but he told you, "no, no. are you okay? what happened?" he was in the middle of a hand-to-hand with megumi, instinctively raising his hand to stop — and megumi stopped immediately, knowing it was important for yuuji.
"period cramps . . . can you come over, please?" he was confused, tired, and sweaty. but he didn't care about that — the male was worried because were periods even supposed to hurt you?
"of course, baby. i'll be there in a sec." he ended the call and shot a look to kugisaki, "what the hell does period cramps mean, does your . . . you know, hurt or something?"
kugisaki had to give him a one minute lecture on what he should do, step by step. yuuji listened thoroughly, running to the nearest convenience store to get what kugisaki told him to: sweets, chocolates, pads and tampons, and your favorite snacks.
and it took him no longer than eight minutes to appear at your doorstep, knocking a couple of times. still sweaty and stinky, "y/n? it's me."
"door's unlocked."
he opened the door hastily, making sure not to drop any of the things he just bought. lightly sending a kick to the door to shut it, "hi baby, how are you feeling?"
"not good. i feel like 'm gonna die." you writhe out, curling into a ball on your bed. the male approached you, putting down the things, "you stink."
he chuckled, stroking your head, "'m gonna borrow your shower, and then cuddles?"
you nod, "please."
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
nanami is always ready. he just knows when your period is coming, hell, he's even more accurate than your period tracker application.
"i brought you chocolates and ice cream, and a heat pad for your cramps." nanami mumbles out, kicking his shoes off as he enters your house carrying a plastic bag.
"how did you know it was my period?"
"i remember it," that was better than any "i love you" or "i miss you".
the male's always ready to bring snacks, sweets, and heat pads for you. nanami will do what it takes to cease your period cramps since he knew he couldn't feel it like you did. he feels really awful: giving you back massages, head massages, kisses to your stomach.
he said he'd "kiss the pain better".
which actually works.
i think he knows your period schedule better than you do. he'd always remind you that your period's coming soon as a heads up, and you listen to him all the time. to the point you had to delete your application since it was pretty useless at this point.
"darling, your period's coming up soon."
"really? didn't i just finish last month's . . ?" you mumbled, a little annoyed that your schedule's coming up so fast.
"in a few days, if i'm guessing — three maybe?" he replies, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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roosterforme · 22 days
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.
Warnings: Fluff, language
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him. 
He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.
The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.
Jayden,
It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.
Violet,
You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it. 
Oliver,
Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.
Lt. Bradley Bradshaw
The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.
After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.
The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.
I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.
Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.
--------------------------
You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.
As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing. 
"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.
I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.
Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject. 
When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"
"The president!" 
"My grandma!"
"My Cocker Spaniel!"
"Oliver's grandma!"
You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"
And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back. 
You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment. 
And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.
"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it. 
Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.
"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."
You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.
As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.
Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,
We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.
I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.
You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you. 
But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.
-------------------------
It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her. 
Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.
He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.
But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it. 
The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."
"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"
Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.
He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.
"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."
After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt. 
If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.
I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.
It was nice hearing from you.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw 
As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?
"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email. 
-----------------------------
You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.
The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.
You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind. 
When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.
"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"
You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"
It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him. 
"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."
Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions. 
"Is that really his jet?"
"Is that the throttle?"
"What do all the buttons do?"
"Was this right before he flew it?"
Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight. 
"His helmet is so cool!"
"It says Rooster!"
"That's his call sign!"
"Red is my favorite color!"
You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."
You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"
You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."
Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now. 
Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.
-------------------------
This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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911 notes · View notes
Text
₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
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pairing: businessman!rafe x assistant!reader
summary: ward introduces his new assistant to the office, and rafe has to have her.
warnings: lots of flirting, secrecy, super sweet fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting
word count: 3.2k
a/n: i wasn’t expecting you guys to love the moodboard so much!! thank you to those who requested more of this pairing, i see all of your asks, comments, and reblogs <3 if you couldn’t tell by the summary, this specific oneshot is telling how everything started, so there is a very slight time skip. don’t worry though, it’s nothing crazy.
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“so if you’ll come this way, you’ll see the meeting room, which is where i’ll properly introduce you to the team in about fifteen minutes,” you followed mr. cameron, your new boss, around the cubicle packed room, smiling softly at those who cared enough to look up from their computers. “there’s not really much of a dress code, all i ask is that you dress for a corporate setting.” he lead you back to his office, where he asked you to take a seat.
“i won’t work you too much, i really just need someone who can keep me and my appointments with my clients organized. my son rafe, who is co-owner at the moment, will also be in need of your assistance, no worries though all he needs from you is to keep him updated on shipments and checking back in with clients to make sure they are more than happy with our services.” mr. cameron pushed a small stack of papers towards you.
“this is just the code of conduct, some expectations for here in the office. i’m gonna go take a phone call, and you can sign those documents in the meantime.” he patted your shoulder on his way out. you took a breath, flipping through the pages. everything looked pretty standard, all drugs prohibited, anyone under the influence will be asked to go home and will be terminated effective immediately, no firearms or weapons allowed while being in the building, etc…
then there was one rule, the only rule, in bold: ANY AND ALL ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS WITH THOSE OF HIGHER POSITIONS WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION OF BOTH PARTIES.
you hummed to yourself, mindlessly signing the papers with no clue of what was ahead of you. just as you finished signing the last page, mr. cameron walked in, flashing you a smile as you handed him the papers back. “do you have any questions for me?” he typed something up on his computer, the printer starting up soon after. “i do, actually. how come the rule for forbidding romantic relationships with higher ups the only one bolded? it’s not a problem or anything! i’m just wondering..” you cleared your throat.
“ah,” he stood up, “well the reason why it’s emphasized is because we want to avoid any and all legal troubles. lawsuits, investigations, it’s a really bad look for my company, and i would rather my employees keep their personal lives out of the office, especially those who are being paid very generously.” you nodded in understanding. “i see. very smart move.” you adjusted the ring on your finger, accepting a paper with your photo on it from mr. cameron.
“why, thank you. anyways, this is a temporary id for when you want to leave and enter the building. rafe is usually in charge of getting the id badges for our employees so he should have that ready for you by the end of the day.” he glanced down at his watch. “shall we get you introduced to everyone?” you nodded, making sure your head was held high as you two made your way to the already full meeting room. while everyone had been making small talk, rafe stayed silent while he stared at the blank presentation screen.
“good morning, everyone! i hope all is well, we’re here to discuss the construction plans for the skyscraper on the mainland, and i also have a new employee i’d like for everyone to meet,” rafe only saw your back profile, but with the view of your hips swaying in your tight pencil skirt and matching heels, it felt like eternity before you finally turned around, the sight of your perfect blowout and soft makeup doing something to his brain.. and his pants.
“this is y/n, and she is the new assistant to rafe and i. she comes from the mainland and has a degree in architecture, she is surely an amazing addition to our team, so i only expect the best treatment for her, as i do all of you.” you smiled, meeting everyone’s gaze, your heart stuttering in your chest when your eyes landed on him. he looked emotionless, but little did you know he was thinking of all the ways he could take you on his work desk.
“you can go ahead and take a seat, and we’ll get started.” you looked around, the only open seat being next to the man that made your stomach flip with a simple glance. you walked over, letting out a small ‘sorry!’ as you sat down, your knee bumping his. he didn’t acknowledge you at first, but once all eyes were on mr. cameron, rafe leaned in to speak to you quietly. “y/n, that’s your name?” you smelt his cologne before you could speak, the scent becoming your new favorite.
“yes, and yours?” rafe took your hand in his. “rafe cameron.” it took everything in you not to let your jaw drop. of course the insanely hot one was off limits. “nice to meet you.” you looked down, unable to maintain eye contact with him. rafe didn’t let go of your hand right away, clearly enjoying how shy he made you. “i’m assuming my father showed you around already?” you nodded, crossing one leg over the other. apart of you was slightly annoyed with yourself. you weren’t a shy girl, you didn’t avoid the stares of men, but rafe? he was a totally different ballpark.
“we’ll talk in my office after this.” he let go of your hand, smiling at you softly as you took out a notebook and pen, jotting down notes from what mr. cameron was going over. just like the rest of his father’s meetings, he wished this one would hurry up and end, wanting nothing more than to get you to himself already. thirty minutes later, and you found yourself sitting in front of rafe, both of you laughing about a topic he brought up.
“you know.. you carry conversation very well. a lot of people don’t know how to do that.” you adjusted your purse on your shoulder, both of you exchanging looks. he was wearing a white button down and slacks, his sleeves rolled up slightly. “thank you.” your words came out soft, the urge to steal a peek at his arms nearly unbearable. rafe examined you for a moment. “you dress very nicely, i like that.” he walked around his desk, leaning on the hardwood. “is this satin?” he rolled the fabric of your sleeve between his fingers.
if it was anyone else, you would’ve curled your lip in disgust before storming out the room and never looking back, but with the way this man towered over you, his eyes hungry as he stared you down, you met his gaze. “it is. and this? all leather?” it was a bold move, even for you, but if he was going there, you were going to meet him halfway. rafe sucked in a breath as your fingertips skimmed his belt. his hand came over yours, trailing it down his slacks, “we’re going to get along just perfectly.”
-
the next two weeks are a blur. first, you were too shy to look at this man, now he was stroking your thigh underneath the table during meetings. after he guided your hand over his hardening cock that fated day, it’s been nothing but hell for him, and you were enjoying every second of it. no one suspected a thing, and mr. cameron had actually told you to reside in rafe’s office for the time being while he worked to set you up somewhere nice. while rafe has been doing everything to get you where he wants you, you’ve been teasing him endlessly.
like today, you wore a black lace bra under your blouse, leaving it three buttons too shy so rafe could see what’s underneath. “mrs. thornton is on line one.” you’d bat your eyelashes up at him innocently, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip as he stared at your exposed cleavage. “you’re killing me, woman.” you’d laugh before getting out of his chair so he could take a seat. while he talked on the phone, you thought about the next way to torture him.
before you could start writing a dirty note for him, there was a light knock at the door. “come in!” rafe shouted, resuming his phone call while margaret, the receptionist, brought in the largest vase of flowers you’ve ever seen. “y/n? these are for you, honey.” you blinked, rushing to get up so you could take them out of her hands. “are- are you sure?” there was a small white envelope poking out the top. “positive. ask whoever sent you those if they have a brother.” she winked, leaving you dumbfounded.
you plopped down in one of the chairs in front of rafe’s desk, taking the envelope and revealing the small card inside.
you look beautiful everyday, so you’ll get flowers everyday <3
your head shot up at rafe who was already smiling at you. “sounds good, i look forward to our meeting mrs. thornton. yes, uh huh, alrighty goodbye.” you walked around his desk, rafe moving to face you. “did you get me these?” you took a seat on his lap, the most you ever let him touch you in two weeks. he sighed wrapping his arms around you as you read the card over and over’s again. “i did. ‘figured roses were too practical, so i got you peonies.” you smiled, pecking his cheek. “they’re my favorite.” there was a lot of intimacy going on right now that rafe wasn’t used too, but it was intimacy with you, it felt right.
“good to know. maybe we’ll get you through the catalog.” his hand rested flat on your tummy where your shirt had rode up. “you really didn’t have to do this. i love them.” you brought his coffee cup to your lips, your lipstick staining the rim as you placed the card back in the envelope. “i was thinking.. since tomorrow is the weekend and the office will be closed, why don’t we do something? i’d love to see you prance around in a bikini on my yacht.” he rested his chin in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.
“i bet you would,” you laughed, “that sounds fun. what time should i be ready?” you adjusted yourself, so your legs were hanging off his thighs. “mmm, how about two o’clock? we’ll stay to watch the sunset.” rafe stroked the side of your face, your eyes falling to his lips as you nodded. “i’d like that.” your voice dropped down to a whisper as he leaned in closely, his breath fanning the tip of your nose. “i want to kiss you so bad right now.” his jaw clenched as you ran a hand across his chest. “so kiss me, rafe.” you wrapped an arm around his neck to steady yourself.
just as his lips ghosted over yours, there was another knock at the door. both of you sighed, your foreheads resting against each other’s before you got up, taking the vase of flowers to your desk. “come in!” rafe wore an annoyed expression as mr. cameron walked in. “great timing, dad.” rafe grumbled, making a small smile grace your features. “listen, i need you to stay later and go over some of the projects that have been sent in, and flag the ones you think are worth investing in. i’m leaving so me and rose can catch our flight on time, we’ll be back by monday.” rafe nodded absently.
mr. cameron smiled. “good afternoon, y/n. flawless work these last couple of weeks, i almost forgot how easy things can be when properly organized. you have a great rest of your day.” you returned the gesture, tilting your head slightly. “why, thank you. i hope you have an amazing flight.” mr. cameron walked out, leaving you and rafe alone once again. “just what i wanted to do tonight. work overtime.” you watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “i could stay with you, help you out.” he shook his head. “i couldn’t ask you to do that. don’t worry it really shouldn’t take me that long.” you waved him off.
“don’t be ridiculous, i’ll be more than happy to review the submissions with you.” he wasn’t going to tell you no, so he let you have your way. after a few hours passed by, you made your way to the front desk where margaret was getting ready to leave. “you have a good weekend, y/n. see you monday!” you laughed at how quickly she got on the elevator to go home. you walked over to the copier room and grabbed the papers fresh out the printer. “well, office is officially empty. margaret just left.” rafe yawned, loosening the tie around his neck. “damn, it’s eight o’clock already?” you placed the papers on his desk, humming softly.
you let your hair down from it’s updo, the waves falling past your shoulders. “what?” rafe was looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. he pulled you down, making you straddle him. “thank you for doing this with me. because of you, we don’t have to stay late after all.” his hands ran up and down your back, untucking your blouse from your pants. you shivered when you felt his fingers against your bare skin. “you welcome.” you tried your hardest to suppress the moan that sat at the back of your mouth.
“do you remember where we were before we were rudely interrupted earlier?” rafe started unbottoning your shirt, revealing your black lacey bra underneath. “fuck.” he closed his eyes, clenching his fists as if he was holding himself back from ravishing you right then and there. you smiled, running your thumb over his bottom lip. “there’s no one here to interrupt us now.” he grabbed the back of your neck, finally taking your lips in a heated kiss.
he groaned, making you grind your hips against his. this kiss was like something you’ve never felt before. there was tension, hunger, the desire building up over these last couple of weeks now rising to the surface in this very moment. the sounds your lips were making was enough to make you pull away, your cheeks reddening. “you gonna get shy on me now?” he tilted your chin up so you could meet his stare. “no.. i’ve just wanted to do that ever since i saw you in the meeting room.” rafe smiled, standing you up.
“you wanna know what i’ve wanted to do since i saw you in the meeting room?” his fingers worked to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your legs before pushing you back on his desk. you sucked in a breath as he ran a hand up your thigh, his finger slipping underneath the waistband of your underwear before letting the elastic snap against your skin. you gasped softly, your head falling back as rafe trailed kisses from your navel to your neck, slotting himself between your thighs where he leaned his weight on you.
you shuddered, his hands cupping your tits through your bra as he laid you down. “i thought about bending you over, fucking you to tears while you struggle to keep quiet.” his words elicited a moan from you, your hips lifting so he could slip your underwears off. “as much as i want to do that right now, i want to taste you more.” your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed wet kisses to your inner thighs, his arms locking you in so you couldn’t close them.
you thought you knew what pleasure felt like, but once you felt rafe’s tongue plunge into you, your mind went blank as he went to work on your clit, your back arching off the hardwood. he switched from slow languid strokes to fast flicks that made you see stars. “feels so good, rafe,” your hands shot down to hold onto his, your nails digging into his wrists. “yeah? like it when i tongue fuck you like this?” your body jerked when you felt him at your entrance, your toes curling in your heels.
rafe was loving this. you tasted so much better than he imagined, his cock straining against the fabric of his slacks. just making you moan and whine was enough to make him feel like he could cum in his pants. “please,” you whimpered, “please fuck me.” rafe pulled away, snaking up your body to align with your lust filled gaze. “i want to fuck you, baby, i do. but i want the first time i fill you up with my cock to be more heartfelt. i promise tomorrow that’s all we’ll do.” your heart swelled at his want to make you feel special.
“okay,” you whispered, tasting yourself on his lips. before you had a chance to think, he shoved two fingers inside you, thrusting them while his thumb rubbed hard circles on your clit. he was unforgiving, the wetness of your cunt echoing in the confines of his office. “oh, fuck,” your eyebrows knitted together as your mouth fell open, his eyes burning into your face. “do you hear how fucking soaked you are?” your chest was heaving at this point, your eyes rolling back as your thighs threatened to close around his hand.
the force alone was making you squirm, your orgasm so close you could taste it. with his thumb rubbing your clit faster, and his fingers curling inside of you, hitting that spot that made you scream, you came with a cry of his name. “oh, that’s it baby, that’s it.” he cooed, your breath stuttering while you shook in pleasure. you felt like fireworks were going off in your tummy, your eyes screwed so hard shut that you could see colors behind them.
“can’t- can’t anymore,” you whined, overstimulation taking over. he didn’t stop, determined to pull one more orgasm out of you. rafe kissed you again, swallowing all of your whimpers and moans as he managed to push you towards the edge one last time tonight. “fuck!” your mewled, your eyes shooting open when you felt a gush between your legs. “o-oh! i’m sorry.” you looked at rafe’s shirt that was not wet with your slick. “sorry for what, beautiful? i was hoping i could make you do that.” he pecked your forehead, easing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“you’re so perfect, you know that?” you blinked, your eyes shining up at him. “i don’t think i’ll ever be ready for this.” rafe groaned as you palmed him through his pants. “i don’t think i’ll be ready either.” he laughed, buttoning your shirt as you sat up. your legs were like jelly as you pulled on your underwear, rafe dressing you while you sighed blissfully. once you were both put together, rafe carried your purse and your vase of flowers for you as you two rode down the elevator to the empty lobby. he put your stuff in your car, making sure to shower you in kisses before letting you go in the driver’s seat.
“see you tomorrow?” he was leaning against your window as you nodded. “i look forward to it. goodnight, rafe.” he smiled. “goodnight, gorgeous.”
809 notes · View notes
sluttywonwoo · 2 months
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they wanna (fuck)
pairing: joshua hong x f reader x vernon chwe
summary: your boyfriend joshua wants to explore something new with you… and his best friend
warnings: swearing, smut (18+ ; mdni)
smut warnings: threesome/cuckolding adjacent, oral (f receiving), protected and unprotected sex, choking
word count: 3.2k
your boyfriend grew up an only child. he’s not the best at sharing. which is why it surprised you more than a little bit when he suggested letting one of his best friends fuck you.
it wasn’t like you were opposed to the idea, you just didn’t think he was serious. you thought it might be a test. but it wasn’t.
“why vernon?” you’d asked.
“he’s got a thing for you,” joshua said, shrugging like it was no big deal.
“and he told you this?”
“nah, just caught him looking at your ass a bunch of times.”
“and have you asked him about this?”
“i was going to bring it up the next time i see him.”
“oh my god, he doesn’t even know?”
joshua scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “well, of course i’d bring it up to you first! it’s your vagina!”
“you’re unbelievable.”
“look, do you want to fuck him or not?”
-
you did want to fuck vernon. it wasn’t like it was a fantasy of yours or even something you’d dwelled on beyond a passing thought, but the man was certainly easy on the eyes and the way he carried himself made you wonder about… things how big it was.
joshua didn’t tell you exactly how the conversation went down. he just told you that vernon was “extremely down” for it, and that they planned for a time when all three of you were free.
“but why do you want me to fuck one of your friends?”
his cheeks turned pink. “um, it’s kind of a possessive thing, i think.”
“what? how does that work?”
“i just think it’d be hot to watch someone fuck you knowing that i get to have you all the time. i’m letting them have a taste but they’ll never get to experience you the same way i will… never get to make you feel the way i do.”
it was your turn to be flustered.
joshua peeked at your reaction. “is that… bad?” he asked nervously.
you shook your head. “no, not bad at all.”
he breathed a sigh of relief. “okay, good. good.”
-
when the day actually rolled around, you could tell joshua was having second thoughts. he kept himself busy all morning, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, organizing and reorganizing your shared record collection (they’re chronological now)…
“we don’t have to do this,” you reminded him.
“i know. i want to, though,” he assured you. “i’m just nervous about what it will be like to see you with someone else…” he trailed off but you knew what he was implying. he was afraid his jealousy would get the better of him.
you rubbed his back comfortingly as you listened. “well, we can stop at any time.”
he nodded and took your hand, squeezing it once. “the same goes for you, you know.”
you checked the clock. “shouldn’t he be here by now?”
“have you ever known vernon to be on time?”
“fair enough.”
he gets there around fifteen minutes later, looking just as nervous as your boyfriend. maybe even more so. but once joshua goes over the arrangement again and everyone starts taking their clothes off, they both seem a lot more relaxed.
“you can kiss her, you know,” joshua murmurs from his side of the room, apparently dissatisfied with the pace of things. “as long as you don’t leave any marks.”
“is that ok?” vernon asks you.
“yeah, kiss me,” you encourage, pulling him by the shoulders until his nose is just inches from yours.
he closes his eyes and leans in, meeting you halfway. it’s a weird feeling, kissing someone who isn’t your boyfriend, but it isn’t bad. embers of excitement from the unfamiliarity of it all are quick to spark between you, quelling the anxiety and igniting something carnal inside you both. vernon’s the first to use tongue, much to your surprise. a startled moan leaves your lips as he slips his tongue between them.
you’re not sure how much time passes before he pulls away but when he does you’re taken aback by his appearance. your boyfriend’s best friend, always so reserved and quiet, looks like a completely different person.
vernon’s always been handsome of course, but you’ve never looked at him like you’re looking at him now.
he looks almost vampiric, pale skin glowing in the dim light of the table lamps lit on your nightstands. his cheeks are flushed pink with heat and his lips are a little swollen from kissing you so deeply.
“can i touch you too?” he asks, breathless.
“yes, please,” you gasp, “please touch me.”
his hand slides down between your bodies to where your legs are already spread for him. you’d be embarrassed about how eager you are for another man in front of your boyfriend if he wasn’t currently watching the two of you while he palmed himself over his boxers.
everyone had just undressed to their underwear so no one’s naked yet but vernon appears to be intent on changing that for you. he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to both him and joshua as he pushes a finger inside of you.
your grab on to him for stability, head falling slack against his shoulder.
“add another one, she likes the stretch,” joshua advises.
vernon stiffens a bit— you can’t tell whether it’s from annoyance at being told what to do instead of being allowed to figure it out himself, or if it’s because he had forgotten your boyfriend was still there altogether, but he does what he’s told nonetheless.
the effect is immediate. you moan, maybe a little too loud, and try to muffle yourself in vernon’s shoulder. your first instinct is to bite him, because that’s what you do with joshua when things start feeling intense, but you don’t know him like that. you don’t know if it’s something he’s into. still, your grip around his bicep tightens as he continues to finger you, nails threatening to dig into his skin.
“you can mark me up,” he tells you with a smirk, like he can read your mind. “i don’t mind.”
you take him at his word, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. he moans at the feeling and it’s only then that you realize you could be touching him too. you reach for him but before you can get your hand on him he leans back to look at joshua.
“can i eat her out?”
your boyfriend considers his friend’s request for a moment before answering.
“yes, but she can’t suck you off.”
you wilt a bit but you know joshua didn’t make that rule to punish you. he was already sharing so much of you by exploring this kink that you can’t blame him for wanting to keep part of you for himself. you’re honestly surprised he’s letting vernon go down on you in the first place.
vernon tsks. “i don’t care about that, i just want to taste her. lay back for me, baby.”
you do, but not before scooting up the bed so that vernon can comfortably lay on his stomach between your legs. joshua comes to your side and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“how’re you doing, baby?”
“good,” you say through a hazy smile.
“yeah? his fingers feel good?”
“mhm…”
“i bet his mouth will too.”
you can see how hard joshua is through his boxers, can see the small dark spot where precum had seeped through the fabric. you’re relieved to know he’s enjoying it just as much as you are— maybe more. you long to touch him too. you try to, but he steps just out of reach. is no one going to let you jerk them off tonight?
you’re distracted by vernon again before you can protest.
“let’s get these off of you,” he murmurs, tugging at the elastic of your panties.
you lift up so he can slide them down your legs. he gets them off in record time and shoulders himself between your thighs, kissing his way up to your pussy. first your knee, then your inner thigh, then the crux of your hip.
“not too much now,” joshua warns from his corner.
you roll your eyes. “shua…”
“what! i’m just reminding him not to get too comfortable!”
“that’s fair,” vernon interjects. “sorry.”
joshua mumbles something else but neither you or his best friend catch it because vernon had already buried his face in your cunt.
“oh, fuck,” you gasp, hands flying to his hair.
he’s eager for it, that much is clear. he only sucks on your clit for a couple of seconds before going straight to tongue-fucking you, as if that had been his goal this whole time. you figure he must feel like he has something to prove— or he just really likes eating pussy.
it’s good. he’s good. too good. he’s not better at it than joshua, but he is about to make you cum in a few seconds flat which is a problem because you never cum that fast with your boyfriend.
it’s probably a mixture of vernon’s aggressive technique and how hot you find this whole arrangement to be but you still don’t want it to make joshua feel some type of way so you try your best to hold off a little longer.
you conjure up sad thoughts, try thinking about all the chores you need to do, all the things you’ve heard men do when they try and stave off an orgasm but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.
“already, baby?” joshua muses, drawing your attention to him again.
he’s degrading you like he normally would in bed but you can tell he’s at least a little pissed off from the way his eyes are wider than usual.
“is he that good?”
you shake your head adamantly, fumbling for words. “n-no! i mean he’s good but uh, i don’t-”
between your legs, you can feel vernon smirking against you. you want to smack him but you can’t feel your arms anymore.
joshua scoffs in disbelief and tongues his cheek as you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. always the gentleman, though, he leans down and offers you his hand for you to anchor yourself as you cum.
"you're not a very good liar, angel," is all he says as you give up on fighting it and let it hit you. you squeeze his hand hard, back arching off the mattress, pushing your hips further into vernon's face.
vernon doesn't stop until your body goes slack and joshua doesn't let go of your hand until vernon stops.
they let you catch your breath before either of them speaks again. vernon is still grinning as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. he's dripping with you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, going as far as to lick the remnants of you from his fingers as if he hadn't just had his head between your thighs less than a minute ago.
"she tastes so fucking good," he murmurs.
"i know," your boyfriend mutters.
"lucky bastard."
joshua turns his attention to you, expression softening when he sees how dazed you look. “you okay, baby?”
you nod with a smile. “mhm.”
“do you want to keep going? do you need a break?”
“wanna keep going,” you say as you prop yourself up on your elbows and look between the two of them. “if you guys do, obviously.”
“fuck yeah,” vernon exhales, making you and your boyfriend laugh.
“you brought condoms, right?” joshua asks.
you and joshua don’t use condoms anymore so you didn’t have any on hand. the two of you debated picking some up beforehand but joshua wasn’t sure what size to get so he just told vernon to bring some himself. problem solved.
“uh yeah,” vernon answers, grabbing his jeans off the floor and fishing a handful of them from one of the pockets. “i didn’t know how many to bring,” he says sheepishly.
“if we don’t use them all today, we can save them for another time,” you assure him.
joshua and vernon react at the same time. “another time?!”
“like if this goes well, right?”
joshua pretends to be annoyed but you can see the little smile that he tries to hide behind his hand, secretly pleased that you're enjoying this as much as he is.
vernon's quick to get the condom on and his boxers off, ripping the packet open with his teeth and rolling the latex down to the base of his cock.
he isn't longer than joshua but he is thicker. he's really thick, actually. your mouth waters at the sight and you clench around nothing, feeling even more hollow than you had when he first took his fingers out of you.
"she's got a bit of a size kink," joshua informs his friend, following your gaze to his dick.
"that's not true!" you protest.
"it's a little true," joshua insists.
vernon just grins. he clearly doesn't care about the truth, whatever it is. he's just happy to know you like what you see.
"josh, what position do you want me in?" vernon asks.
joshua doesn't even have to think about it. "either from behind or tabletop. regular missionary is too intimate."
you have to agree. even though it feels incredible, you wouldn't want to experience that with anyone but joshua.
"do you have a preference?" vernon asks you.
"let's do tabletop," you decide. "i want to see you."
"i was hoping you would say that," he admits. "we can switch positions later on if you want."
"you think you'll last that long?" you tease, reaching out to stroke him once or twice just to see him react.
vernon hisses and jerks away from you, cock twitching against his stomach. "good point," he grits out, "we'll cross that bridge if we get to it."
he gets up off the bed and walks around to the foot of it, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling until you're flush with his hips.
"damn dude," joshua says under his breath.
vernon ignores your boyfriend's comment even though he's blushing, choosing to put his full focus on you instead. you're already squirming beneath him, desperate to feel him for the first time.
"are you ready?"
"yes."
"are you sure?"
"god, vernon, if you don't put it in alr-"
the threat works. he pushes himself inside of you in one go, face scrunching up as he fists the sheets beside your head to steel himself.
"god damn it," he chokes out, legs trembling. it sounds suspiciously like a sob but you're too busy trying to adjust to his size to call him on it. "fuck, how do you feel so good?"
"it's insane, right?" joshua gloats. "she's perfect."
"it's not fair..." vernon whines, mostly to himself.
"how does he feel, baby?" joshua asks you, coming close and petting your hair again. he then wipes the tears from the corners of your eyes and then presses the same fingers against your mouth, the salt stinging your swollen lips.
"he f-feels good." your answer comes out muffled against his hand but it seems to satisfy your boyfriend and your lover nonetheless.
he feels better than just good, he feels fucking incredible. the stretch is so intense you feel like you're about to be split in half but you aren't able to articulate that with how overwhelmed you are.
vernon gathers himself eventually but it takes several deep breaths and what sounds like a prayer for strength before he continues.
"can i move?" he asks you, the request bordering on begging.
"yeah, please. please fuck me."
he gives a couple of experimental thrusts before building up to a steady rhythm, each one feeling better than the last. you're so wet that the glide of him inside of you is almost too easy but there's still a bit of resistance due to how thick he is.
"how do you like it?" he grunts, "fast, slow?"
"th-this is good," you say.
"rub her clit," joshua adds.
"i was getting to that," vernon mutters.
he slows down and snakes a hand between your legs, feeling around for it until he feels you tighten up around him.
"there we go," he whispers gently, repeating the pattern he remembers you liking the most.
"you're so fucking pretty, baby," you hear joshua say, making you reach out for him in search of his hand. he gives it to you immediately, squeezing affectionately and encouraging you to do the same. you always held hands during sex. it was a way you were able to anchor yourself to him, squeezing his palm whenever something felt particularly intense. it was comforting to have that translate here as well.
"i love you," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.
a profession of love while another man is inside of you is a little strange, all things considered, but it still makes you melt.
"i love you too," you reply, before remembering the aforementioned other man inside of you. "sorry, is this turning you off?"
he doesn't even look fazed by it. "nah, it's fine. she got so fucking tight when you told her you loved her."
joshua smirks. "wanna know what else makes her tight?"
"what?"
your boyfriend lets go of your hand, promising to come back, and rounds the bed to whisper something in his best friend's ear. vernon's eyes get wide and his hips stop moving.
"for real?"
joshua just nods as he takes his place by your side again, offering you an innocent smile that you don't buy at all.
vernon exhales harshly and shakes his head like he has to psych himself up for whatever he's about to do or say, which makes sense when he leans forward and wraps a hand around your throat.
you gasp in surprise but clench around him almost immediately, just like joshua said you would. he only applies a little bit of pressure but it's enough to have the desired effect.
vernon curses and stutters forward, eliciting what sounds like a whimper as he struggles to get his other hand back between your legs.
"told you."
"i'm not going to last," vernon stammers, looking away from his best friend in embarrassment.
"you can cum whenever you want."
"but sh-she hasn't yet..."
"i'll take care of that, don't worry," joshua assures him. "you made her cum on your face already, remember?"
"but i, i... fuck," his voice breaks off into a whine, the rest of the sentence dissolving on his tongue. it's like he can't stop fucking you, can't even slow down, even though he doesn't want to cum yet.
"come on, give it to me," you sigh out.
he gives in finally, practically collapsing on top of you as he cums into the condom. he weakly thrusts himself through it, kissing you to swallow the noises he's making.
he's still twitching inside of you when he catches his breath.
"sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes. "i didn't mean to-"
"baby, it's fine," you tell him earnestly. "we wanted you to feel good."
he pouts but nods like he understands and pulls out with a groan.
"and like i said," joshua interjects, patting his friend on the back as he trades places with him and notches the head of his cock inside of you. when he took his underwear off, you have no idea, but you can't bring yourself to care when he bottoms out and offers you his hand one last time. "i'll take care of the rest."
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justwonder113 · 17 days
Text
Sharing a bed with Channie
Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;
My Masterlist
Summary: Chan is your rock, your guide your everything. He was also the the only person you could go to when you couldn't sleep. Warning: CURSING- I literally have no shame; GN reader, reader can't sleep. I Know I said it would be like one bed trope series but I feel like it isn't fully it? Like they lay in one bed for 5 minutes before point is shifted? Playful banter between friednds, Chan and reader are best friends and roommates. fluff, friends to lovers. Not proofread. Mention of burying yourself alive? A/N- I know I announced that I would write this eons ago but it took me more time thatn I thought it would. I had a clear vision but while writing this I changed everything like at least 5 times. I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It means the world to me. Please share your thoughts with me and reblog. Also if you have any type of request please I'll be more than glad to write it. Word count-
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You were going to do this! You were not going to back down. You were not a coward! What could happen? The worst thing he could say was no. Big thing! You knew how to take no as an answer... No you didn't.. You would most probably die of shame if he said no. He wouldn't right? No, he is much too kind to deny you of such simple thing. But what if you made him feel uncomfortable? You would rather chew off your own foot than make him do something that makes him uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable yourself. He would tell you if he didn't want it right? You were friends. Quite close ones too. God you were friends! Of course he would find it weird that you wanted to sleep in the same bed. You had nothing explisit in mind tho. You just wanted to sleep next to him. You had trouble sleeping these days and it was starting to affect your everyday life, You were more groggy, more irritable, your head was in the clouds and you couldn't fully concentrate on anything. You tried everything to fix your sleeping schedule but nothing really worked. To say that you were despterate would be an understatement.
For the past 2 weeks the only time you slept peacefully and didn't wake up feeling like shit was when you and Chan fell asleep watching tv. It was the best sleep you had in a while, you woke up feeling like a new person. You were hopeful that you wouldn't experience trouble sleeping like that ever again but sadly nothing had really changed.
You couldn't help but sigh when you saw that it was almost 3 am. You had to get up early too and you had to be on top too. You were going to do it!
You got up from the bed, but before leaving the room you turned back and headed to the mirror. After making sure you were decent at least fifteen times you finally left the room. If it was any other of your friends you wouldn't even thing twice before heading to them, but this was Channie, your channie, the guy you had been hopelessly in love with since forever, but also a guy who only saw you as a friend.
You've read countless times that whenever a person came to their crush with the excuse that they couldn't sleep and/ or had a nightmare(in your case both) their crush always welcomed them with open arms. And they always ended up together after sharing a bed. If there was a fanfiction god you prayed things would go well or you would bury yourself alive and at least that would solve your sleep issues.
You were surprised to see that the lights in his room were on. Was he still working? You had to scold him later, he promised that he wouldn't work until late and would actually try and sleep.
You softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few seconds you knocked again, but also no answer. Maybe he fell asleep you thought. Feeling bad waking him up you felt bad you turned back to return to your room.
To say that you almost had a heart attack when you saw a dark figure looming behind you would be a severe understantment. You even fell back on your butt. Chan's gasp of your name made you realize it was him, he even tried to catch you but couldn't hold onto you on time.
"Oh my god are you okay?" Chan crouched down next to you, he held your face and carefully examined you while you tried to catch your breathe.
"I think I saw god for a second." You gasped out after a few seconds of gasping dramatically. Chan rolled his eyes at you before asking "What were you doing in front of my room?"
You stumbled for a second trying to find a perfect answer. While staring into his eyes all your courage from earlier had disappeared, you felt embarrassed about what you wanted to ask him. Also the fact that he was only in his pyjama pants didn't help at all. Like you also needed to be distracted by his Greek God body! "I wanted to get water and saw that the lights in your room were on." You couldn't be more obvious you were lying but you still hoped he wouldn't pry. Chan looked at you sternly before sighing. "You couldn't sleep?" You wanted to deny but the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn't lie. You could only nod, feeling disappointed in yourself. Chan looked at you for a second before grabbing your hand and leading you into his bedroom.
"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask, when he literally just casually picked you up and put you in the middle of the bed like a pretty decoration on top of a cake. He only told you to stay put and then left the room. You were baffled. You stayed put and only waited for him who quickly returned couple of minutes later with your pillow and the plushie he won for you when you were at the arcade. He instructed to you to get comfortable under the covers and then left again. He took a bit longer this time, but in a minute or two he was back with the cup of tea. Literally how could you not love him? He was so sweet and gentle with you. He really was the most beautiful person to walk this earth both body and soul. You were so touched by this that you forgot all your bashfullness? You leaned in and kissed his cheek. And the bashful smile he gave you?! The butterflies in your stomach were having a french revoluiton.
After you drank your tea, Chan took the glass from you and put it on his nightstang. "Are you comfortable like this? I can go back in my room." You couldn't help but ask. You felt shy laying on his bed next to him. Chan rolled his eyes and got under the cover. You two were so close you could feel his body heat without even touching him.
"I was the one who bought you here so stop overthinking and go to sleep!" Chan grumbled before wrapping his hand around your waist and bringing you closer to his body. You were chest to chest now and your heart was beating so strongly you were worried he would feel it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Christopher Bang Chan! What is this behaviour? What did you do to my shy best friend?" Chan smiled, "when was I ever shy?" Now it was your turn to smile mischeviously, "you're right you always were a little shit." Chan pinched your side making you yelp, you couldn't help but laugh at his distaste. "You're a menace." His voice was low, making you shiver. "Learned it from the best." You quipped quickly.
"Brat."
"You love me."
Chan waited for a second before leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose before muttering, "You're right, I do."
You started at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Your cheeks felt really hot. "What's with the heart fluttering shit you do? Be carefull Christopher or I might fall for you. What are you going to say about that?" Not going to lie you were dying inside wanting to know what would Chan say. Chan opened one eye to look at you and then closed it. You thought that he would ignore you, he cradled you closer to his body. Your face was against the crook of his neck. You felt like you could melt. You felt so warm and secure,the smell of his shower gel and the musky scent of his body really soothed you, you could even feel his carotid pulse. It was comforting his pulse was almost as fast as yours. Maybe you were deluding yourself but what if he felt the same?
The sound of Chans voice bought you down to reality." I would say it's about time, I've been flirting with you for ages!" What the actual fuck? You immediately jumped up and looked at Chan with the most shocked face ever. He's being doing what now?
"You've been flirting with me?" You needed him to say it again. You needed the clarification!
Chan opened his eyes and leaned up, you tried to read his expression but you got nothing. "Yes? Since forever? I'm surprised you hadn't realized."
"You like me?" You couldn't believe your ears.
"Yes? Why are you so shocked?" He sounded genuinely confused.
"Because I thought you only saw me as a friend and well you do have a flirty personality." -You tried to explain, Chris sighed and fully leaned up. He looked at you for a second before putting his hand on your neck and pulling you towards him. You thought he was going to kiss you and your heart basically did a backflip on top of running 500 kilometers per hour, but instead of kissing you on lips he softly kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes whitch you hadn't even realized you had closed, you saw that he was looking and you with the softest gaze ever. You couldn't put it to words but it was type of expression that even if you didn't like him you would fall for him head over heels without a doubt.
"First of all you're literally the hottest person ever with even better personality. I would be a fool to not fall in love with you. So trust me my flirting was genuine. Now the second, you always flirted back, you weren't being genuine?" His question bought you aback and you started stammering for an answer but you stopped when you heard him chucke. "Okay okay I'm just teasing. I know you were being sincere. And I'm also aware you have a crush on me. It's cute actually. " His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased you. You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him sensless.
"I hate you so much sometimes." You couldn't help but groan. You were feeling beyond embarrassed, both because you knew that he liked you back and because he had known you liked him. What an asshole why did it take him this long to say anything? Chan leaned in and placed another peck on your cheek, making you sigh quietly. "Your raging crush on me says otherwise."
"Oh shut up!" You did smack him on the arm this time. Chan's cuckle filled the room and you couldn't help but also laugh. You felt like a lovesick teenager but you didn't really mind it. Chan's one hand was still on your neck rubbing the thumb mindlessly along your skin, his warm hand not failing to send shiver aftee shiver down your spine, while his other hand was on your waist keeping you close to him. He acted like the thought for a second before muttering "Good idea." And leaning towards you, your lips so close they slightly grazed each other with each breath.
"Can I kiss you?" God were you dreaming? You even pinched yourself and you were awake! Fanfiction God really did exist apparently. You would have to thank them later.
Much to your dismay after kissing each other for so long that your lips were already starting to buzz Chan decieed to lean back. You chased after his lips, you didn't care that your lips were buzzing, you felt like you could kiss him until your lips fell off. You felt like you had been deprived of him all your life and you felt greedy now once you got the taste of him.
You nodded eagerly, making Chan's smile deepen. And he closed the distance. Chan, your lovely Channie, your best friend and closest companion, the guy you could trust with your life and your longtime crush was kissing you. And it felt beyond majestic. It was everything you had imagined and so much more! His lips were so soft, so warm and felt so nice against yours. Your whole body was like set ablaze and despite feeling so so many times today you felt like melting, like your bones were liquifying. Only he could make you feel that way. So confused and so hopelessly in love. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, Chris mirrored it and soon you were full on chuckling between giving each other short pecks. You love how lighthearted and fun everything was with Chris but also very deep and meaningful and how he always made you feel so secure. Really, how could you not love him?
Chan smiled and gave you a short peck. Then he brought you closed to his body and hugged you. "I really like you, heck I might even love you, this might sound cheesy and I know your menace butt is going to tease me after this but be mine?"
What a dork. You hugged him closer and kissed his neck. "I think I also love you too. And I will tease you about it most definitely, but yes, I will be yours." Chan smiled with his pretty dimples fully on display, he kissed your forehead and then helped you get comfortable on his bed. You felt so calm and peaceful despite your heart still running like crazy, you could feel the sleep approaching. Oh yeah you had insomnia, how funny.
A/N- I really hope you liked it, I will fix mistakes later my eyes are burning at this point. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading❤️
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reiding-writing · 1 month
Note
hello!!!! could i get a continuation fic for "breaking the ice"? this time it could be like after a hard case and reader actively seeks out spencer for comfort (CONGRATS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!!! <33)
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BREAKING DOWN [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˈbreɪ.kɪŋ daʊn/
spencer just wants to be there for you when you need him, but you get overwhelmed by his constant worrying and push him away, only to crawl right back into his embrace when you really need it.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, reader is mean to spencer in the beginning but apologises later, child death, guilt, reader having an emotional breakdown, angst to hurt/comfort
spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 2.4k | climacteric event
a/n: hit two birds with one stone for this one, god sometimes i forget how much i like writing characters suffering man-
this fic is a continuation of ‘breaking the ice’, but can be read as a stand alone!
main masterlist!! ⋆。°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!
climacteric event masterlist!!
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You felt like an idiot the first time Spencer caught you crying, failing to compose yourself in the office bathroom for no good reason and looking like an absolute wreck because your brain had just decided it wanted to ruin your day.
There’d been a few times since then when he’d caught you on the brink of a breakdown, but you’d masked them better the more he tried to look into your psyche.
“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” He said those few months ago. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
That was all said and good but it didn’t mean that you wanted him to be there whenever you were overwhelmed or emotional. Sometimes you needed the space to work through your emotions on your own.
“Reid. Leave me alone.” You turn to him sharply, impatience written all over your features.
He’d been asking you about your emotions for the past fifteen minutes after noticing you turn down one of the sugary treats Garcia had brought into the office and using the small amount of favouritism you had towards him as leeway in terms of you not getting angry.
But you had your breaking point even with him.
The harshness spilling from your lips wasn’t something that was ever directed at him, so much so that it actually took him a second to register that it was him you were snapping at and not some invisible person standing behind him.
He didn’t even have time to respond to you. You were already around the corner by the time he’d come back to his senses.
He didn’t bother you after that.
At all.
There was no small talk at the beginning of the office days, no conversations on the jet between cases. He stopped waiting for you before leaving the office and picking you up coffee on days he knew you’d be late.
It threw you back in time to the first few years of working with him. And it seemed that the rest of the team was feeling the inherent ‘nostalgia’ as well, and not in a good way.
The small lingering glances and silent conversations you’d engage in had completely disappeared, and not having Spencer has the bridge of proper communication between you and the rest of the team made merging your psychological profile with the main behavioural profile for your most recent case three steps longer than it needed to be.
Because he was basically refusing to speak to you. Following your instructions to a T.
It didn’t help that it was a child case either. You always seemed to have issues with those. You worked twice as fast, but also made twice as many mistakes, and without someone like Spencer to filter your thoughts through to make sure that they were all objective it meant that your profile was lagging behind.
The child you were looking for died before you found him.
And by the time you’d reached the jet to fly back to Virginia, you’d already internalised his death as your fault.
You kept yourself together through the airport, through boarding and take-off and until you watched your team members fall into a blanket of uneasy sleep as everyone tried to brush off the emotional wreckage that they’d seen over the last few days and detach themselves from the child they’d failed to save.
You were usually pretty good at that part.
Separating yourself from your work came naturally for you, and it was something you were extremely grateful for when getting rest after a particularly hard case. But children were different.
They always were. Especially when it felt like you had a personal hand in their death.
With an internal sigh you accepted your fate of staring at the beige walls of the jet’s cabin until you inevitably couldn’t take it anymore and barricaded yourself in the bathroom for the remainder of the flight.
Now’s about the time where you’d probably distract yourself by starting Spencer on a tangent. Getting him to talk about something that was completely unrelated to the case you’d just sat through to drown out the voices inside of your head and allow you to rest peacefully despite yourself.
But you couldn’t do that right now.
Half because Spencer was already asleep and half because you’d pushed him away.
And now you had to lie in the hole you’d created for yourself.
You didn’t even end up making it into the bathroom.
You curled your legs up into yourself in the corner chair you’d bagged yourself, rested your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your palms as the tears started a steady flow down your cheeks.
It was honestly one of the worst feelings in the world. Curled up into yourself with your hands cupped over your mouth to keep your staggered breathing quiet enough to not wake the other agents sleeping around the cabin.
As you sat there, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret for pushing Spencer away.
His concern was always genuine, his presence a source of comfort even when you didn't realise you needed it. Now, in the silence of the jet cabin, his absence felt like a void.
Each tear that slipped from your eyes felt like another weight added to the burden you were already carrying.
The familiar ache in your chest threatened to consume you as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over and wake your teammates.
Despite the exhaustion pulling at your bones, sleep remained unobtainable, lost in the emotional maze of regret and self-blame that you’d managed to lose yourself in to the point where you couldn’t even stand up to give yourself some privacy.
You felt utterly alone, isolated by your own actions in every sense of the word. Each passing minute stretched on for what felt like hours, dragging you deeper into the abyss of your thoughts.
You weren’t quiet enough apparently, and you hear a small shift from the long sofa to your right as your emotional breakdown seemingly catches someone’s ears to the point where they’ve woken up.
“…are-” Spencer’s voice is quiet and mildly groggy as he wakes from the sounds of your internal anguish, and he cuts himself off before getting his whole question out.
You wanted him to leave you alone.
“sorry…” He shifts onto his side until his back is facing you, not wanting to pry if you were uncomfortable with it but also not willing to watch you break down if he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I’m not okay Reid…” Your words are caught in between stunted breaths and shaking movements. “I need help-”
Your words sent an ache right through his heart that made him think it was going to split in two. He can hear the tremor in your voice, the shakiness in your tone as you force yourself to be vulnerable with him. And it makes him want to join you in a fit of tears.
If you were actively reaching out like this, it had to be bad.
“I know…” His voice is barely above a whisper as he slowly turns his body, still hesitant to look you in the eyes but wanting to see your expression.
He doesn’t know if you want comfort or advice, but he knows which he’d prefer to give as his eyes land on your face and take in the sight of you, curled up into yourself with tear stains tracking down your cheeks in the cabin’s low lighting.
“But I don’t know how to…” The silence is the worst part of the conversation from his end of things – a silence that was deafeningly loud. His eyes dart between the cabin door and you.
But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t get up, or get closer. He just stays put.
He doesn’t know what to do.
“Tell me how to help you…”
“I don’t-” You barely get the chance to start speaking before your crying renders you effectively mute, your throat filled with sobs that leave your mouth into the palm of your hand as you attempt to silence yourself and not ruin anyone else’s slumber.
He can see your fingers trembling as you hold back the noise. From across the aisle, Spencer watches the way you shake until his stomach ties in a knot just from seeing you distressed.
But there’s nothing he can do.
“Can I try something?” He murmurs his words softly, like he’s afraid of frightening you further as he pulls himself upright on the couch seat to plant his feet firmly on the floor.
You answer him with a nod, too unstable to even think about trying to answer him verbally under the threat of breaking down further.
He pads across the aisle deftly, taking a seat in the chair beside your own and deftly bringing his arm across the back of your shoulders to rub lines against your back.
It’s a somewhat pathetic pat, a mix of fatigue and hesitation mixing in his movements and making his attempt at comforting you feel clumsy and mildly awkward.
But he was trying, and that was the main point.
The awkwardness really held no ground under your inherent need to just feel comforted in the moment, and you take no note of it as you turn your head into Spencer’s shoulder with your hand still cupped over your mouth as you tremble under his arms.
His hand becomes a little more confident once you accept his attempts.
He didn’t know how to help you.
He didn’t know how to soothe you.
And the thought of not being able to save you from yourself was tearing him up inside.
But the least he could do was this.
Spencer’s touch is gentle as he places his other hand onto the back of your head, fingers brushing along your hairline as he encourages you further into his embrace.
There’s nothing he should say right now, nothing he could say right now.
Whatever would come from him would be a string of false assurances he wasn’t sure he would even believe himself.
Instead, he settles for the soft touches, his gentle fingers and trying to soften your breathless sobs into something less heartwrenching.
It felt mildly awkward to be the source of someone else’s comfort — he’d usually been on the receiving end of it — but it was working, and he could slowly feel your shoulders relax under his hands, your sobs reducing to small sniffles as you calmed under Spencer’s influence.
“Breathe…” He whispered the words quietly against the top of your head, making a show of taking deep breaths that you could feel against his chest as a silent instruction for you to mirror.
The rise and fall of his chest underneath your hand was crucial in helping you slowly regulate your breathing to match his, the remnants of sniffles that caught in your throat slowly dissipating until they were non-existent.
The peak of your distress slowly eludes you as you sink down to a gradual calm, and the harsh beating of your heart against your sternum was slowly regulating itself as well until it was soft enough that it didn’t ring in your ears.
Spencer remains quiet as he continues to rub gentle lines over your spine. If he kept you him his grasp like this for long enough, your fatigue might catch up to you and make you fall asleep. And that would be alright with him.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you for trying to help me,” You air out your half-apology once you’re confident enough that speaking won’t send you down another spiral, your words muffled slightly against his shirt.
It’s a sudden break to the small pocket of silence you’d created, and Spencer’s hand pauses for a fleeting second before continuing to trace its path over your back. “You were stressed and I pushed a limit, it was understandable…”
He wouldn’t lie to you and say that everything was alright and he didn’t take it personally. It did hurt for you to be so harsh to him, but hearing you try to apologise made it feel a little better at least.
“I just wanted to help…”
“I know…” You turn your head further into his shoulder until your face is hidden in the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry,”
Your apology, voiced properly this time, elicited a small sigh from his lips, and he adjusted his arm around you to accommodate the new position you were in.
The feeling of somebody leaning on him, relying on him so much for comfort was a rather novel experience. He liked his distance, his personal space, and his preference for not being touched always trumped anything else. But this was different.
“Don’t apologise…” Spencer shakes his head against yours as he murmurs out his words. “Just rest…”
You give him a small hum as your only indication of acknowledging his suggestion, letting out a small yawn into his neck as the consequences of your emotional breakdown catch up to you and riddle your body with fatigue.
You were practically melting into him by now, your weight resting against his side, but Spencer wasn’t complaining.
It made you seem so vulnerable, so small and relaxed and different from how you usually presented yourself to the world.
Once your yawn reached his ears he knew your body was preparing to slip into unconsciousness.
But he couldn’t bring himself to move away from you.
He’d seen you fall asleep before; he’d seen the way your mouth had parted slightly right before a small snore left your lips, the delicate rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evened out and the way your eyebrows furrowed when you fell into a dream.
He didn’t want to interrupt his comfort by moving away. So he didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt to hold you for a little bit longer.
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p0ckykiss · 2 months
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lovesick - lee haechan
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summary -> haechan is sick, and you are more than happy to take care of him.
warnings -> friends but they have a crush on each other😱
haechan laid in bed, sniffling. he had pulled the comforter back onto his body and curled up.
on the TV was his favorite show, he was currently rewatching it whilst he fought off his cold with rest.
lord knows where he had caught it, but it was unfortunate. days after he had decided to start his trek to college by moving out, he was sniffling and sneezing.
thankfully, he was able to postpone the college signup and tour, and get help moving into his apartment.
“i thought I told you to cover up with the sheet, not the comforter, hyuck,” you slowly opened the door, holding a plastic bag. “i only left for fifteen minutes.” you pulled the thick blanket off of him and folded it at the end of the bed.
the mask covering your face made it hard to see your expression, so haechan returned eye contact with his big, beautiful, brown doe eyes. “i’m cold.”
“i know you get cold, but we have to bring your temperature down. and you refuse to eat ice cream”
“speaking of temperature, I have to take yours again.”
he sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. “because you want me to eat the kind that doesn’t taste as good.” haechan really wanted you to take off your mask, because.. he just wanted you to.
you were gorgeous, and admiring your face could probably cure his sickness.
you shook your head. “i bought an alternative,” a few treats were pulled out of the bag. “ice pops. they’re cheap, and they are basically shaved ice. you can eat as many as you want, anything for the sake of you getting better.”
the thermometer that you had also pulled out of the bag was placed in haechan’s mouth.
haechan pouted while it took his temperature, because of how babied he was right now. it was to get him better faster, but he was supposed to be an adult, moving out into his old place. yet here you were, taking care of him.
“did you get any rest?” you held his face in your hands. partly to just coddle him further.
the thermometer beeped, and you took it out.
102 degrees.
still lower than the previous day.
“no.. I feel like my insides are on fire,” his voice was nasally and cute, the entirety of his nose red and irritated.
“and that’s what the ice pops are for, hyuck,” you peeled off the seal and handed it to him.
he took it from you, and stuck it in his mouth. immediately, his body felt a little more at peace, and his muscles relaxed.
earlier, he tried eating ice.
all that did was hurt his teeth. this was a happy solution to that madness. “how many did you buy?” he mumbled around the pop.
“i bought six, because I knew you would like them. they’re pretty big, so it should last you today and tomorrow. and just so you know these aren’t meals.”
“yeah, yeah,” haechan rolled his eyes and looked back at the TV.
“while you’re occupied, let’s take the sheet off of you, too,” you climbed onto the bed and laid next to him, close enough for comfort, but far enough to keep him from heating up. “you need to rest, once you’re done, got it?”
again, he rolled his eyes, but laid his head against your shoulders. his legs were tucked close to his body.
the show was getting good.
even if he was with you, he wouldn’t want to miss any of it - despite the fact that he was watching it again.
the couple in the show were getting closer, and he could actually see their chemistry. “look, look, they-” haechan pouted.
the ending music of the episode was playing, just as it seemed they would kiss. “how long have you been sleeping..” he set the empty ice pop inside the bag and grabbed another one.
best take advantage of this moment. haechan let you rest back on the pillows, curling you into his side as much as he wanted while covering you up with the sheet.
for extra measure, he slipped the mask off, down and under your chin.
“much better.” haechan grinned proudly.
-
nearly two episodes down the line, he felt his eyelids starting to get heavy, and he began to miss a few seconds of the show at a time. as a boring and ineffective part played out, his eyes began to shut. just then, you decided to wake up.
“hyuck..” you groaned, sitting up. “you didn’t even take your medicine..” it took you several moments to realize that your mask was off, but when you did, you playfully slapped his arm.
“stop, stop! I just wanted to see your face,” haechan pouted for the nth time this visit. “i’ll take my medicine if you give me a kiss.”
you pulled the medicine out of the bag and measured it out. “if you get me sick, I will be so mad at you, lee haechan, because some of us have to function in the real world, as fully functioning adults.” you held his chin and gave him a prolonged peck before handing him his medicine.
“hey!” it was hard to tell what part of his face was blushing, and what was red from his cold.
the way that you nonchalantly acknowledged the feelings you had for one another is what really sealed the deal for him. “thank you,” haechan mumbled as he took the medicine.
“i’m going now, before I catch more germs than I can afford.”
he stood up and grabbed your hand. “goodbye.” haechan’s eyes were wide, and he was feeling much bolder now that he was satisfied and not feeling like his insides were an inferno. he wrapped his arms around your torso and laid his head on your shoulder.
“goodbye, hyuck, take care of yourself while i’m gone, okay?” you rubbed his back and kissed his head. “my phone is always on if you need me.”
haechan retreated back to his bed, where he listened to you leave, before pulling out his phone to text you an unnecessarily long series of heart themed emojis.
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lovinpelova · 1 month
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forgive me | n. charles
summary; you always forgive your lover.
🎵 idfc - blackbear
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as soon as the gate opened for chelsea to start scoring goals you knew this wasn't going to be arsenal's night. six minutes after the first and eleven minutes after the second you were down 3-0 with no hope of your team meshing together, substitutes doing nothing apart from aiding kim in the last minute goal that took away chelsea's clean sheet.
whilst you were happy to score one goal, it wasn't enough. you were playing awfully with possession in midfield and defence as a cdm twinned with wally, both of you trying to track back and block attacks but ultimately having to rely on manu to deliver in the second half. fresh legs did nothing for arsenal and the only goal you scored was from a deflection, chelsea had gotten their revenge at stamford bridge.
with only twenty minutes to go niamh got subbed off after being tended to by the medical staff at chelsea, your mind immediately running wild with bad thoughts when you saw her holding her knee but eventually calming down when she walked off perfectly fine. the chelsea players walking off to time waste and getting more physical had earned a reaction from you, the referee gifting you a yellow card and warning you to stop protesting before she put you on a red. it's safe to say after that, a horrible team performance, remembering you had to play chelsea in the continental cup final, having a low player rating yourself and spending the night at niamh's house - you were in a foul mood.
fair enough, the game wouldn't have made much of a difference for arsenal if you'd won due to how far behind you were in goals and points, but it's the performance that was bugging you all. the league standings were the same, united too far behind for arsenal to be worrying about losing their spot, but when you're yelling at your teammates in disagreement and failing to keep possession anywhere on the pitch it starts to play a mental game on you all. chelsea took advantage of that - and whilst you congratulated them all happily with a genuine smile on your face, you couldn't help but let out a deep sigh of relief and exhaustion when you collapsed into the passenger seat of your girlfriend's car.
"good game?"
you shook your head with another deep exhale, for some reason having tears in your eyes at such a harsh loss.
"definitely not."
you replied with a wobble in your voice, niamh seemingly not registering how upset you were due to her adrenaline still pumping from such a large win. she'd been teasing you ever since you won 4-1 against chelsea last time, saying if chelsea beat arsenal when you were sleeping at hers for the weekend that she wouldn't let you live it down, but you didn't think she'd actually follow through with her promise.
"i reckon the socks gave you a bit of bad luck, don't you? i mean- nothing was working for you guys."
"yup, gathered that from the scoreline niamhy."
the defender processed her nickname as a fond expression rather than an annoyed one, continuing to rant about how good of a game chelsea had for the fifteen minute drive home whenever she had seen something that reminded her of the club or remembered a good tackle she'd made.
you'd been tuning out her rants the entire way and she hadn't noticed your dip in attitude since the final whistle blew, your fuse seconds away from blowing in fury.
"you hungry babe? actually nevermind, i'm sure you're full after having that defeat shoved down your throat."
"oh- niamh just shut up for one second would you!"
the brunette stood still in the kitchen with a shocked expression, turning to you as she watched your face writhe in anger.
"i'm sick and tired of hearing your cocky little comments every time you win against arsenal!"
"excuse me? don't act like you don't make comments when arsenal win against chelsea-"
"i do but i don't shove them down your throat and go on about it for the entire fifteen minute drive home!"
niamh pushed herself off the counter so she was stood upright, her jaw slack in shock at your sudden outburst and the way you were yelling. normally you spoke to your girlfriend about anything that was annoying you, so it seems the anger of such a big loss was still hanging over your head and making you act out.
"i'm not shoving anything down your fucking throat y/n! you need to watch your tone- it's not my fault arsenal played shit today!"
"don't you dare talk about my team like that! i didn't insult chelsea's performance when we won at the emirates, you have absolutely no right to be saying that!"
by now you'd made your way into the kitchen and were stood on the other side of the island, staring into niamh's eyes furiously as she returned the rage you were emitting. she thought tonight would be peaceful judging by your silence in the car and smile at stamford bridge when congratulating the blues, but she must have read you wrong.
"i'm not talking shit about your team, i'm telling the truth! the only goal you managed to score was off a fucking deflection! how is that a good game?!"
"i never said we had a good game! you need to shut your fucking mouth about my club and how we played tonight- you don't play for arsenal, so you don't have a say in the matter!"
"oh so all of a sudden my opinion on performances doesn't matter just because i play for chelsea, does it?!"
"shut the fuck up niamh! i'm so sick of your bullshit! go get your ego in check and come talk to me when you're done acting like a fucking toddler!"
before your girlfriend could respond you stormed off into the guest room of her apartment, angrily putting your phone on charge after slamming the door behind yourself. you could hear niamh angrily mumbling things to herself in the kitchen, soon followed by the quiet noise of her tv turning on as she seemingly resided in the living room.
you hadn't meant to lash out at niamh, it was the last thing you ever wanted to do, but with her constant teasing and cocky remarks for almost half an hour straight you couldn't help yourself. you'd blown up on each other and were now waiting to calm down, expecting the other to apologise first before remembering you were both too stubborn for your own good, soon feeling sleepy from the exhaustion of constantly running back and forth. not even bothering to get under the duvet or fluffy blanket niamh had put at the foot of her spare bed, you let sleep overcome your senses.
during the middle of the night you woke up to the door opening and closing, a body shuffling into bed behind you and wrapping strong arms around your waist with soft kisses along your shoulder and neck. quiet apologies were whispered against your skin with thumbs rubbing the muscles of your stomach to fully wake you up.
"i'm sorry babygirl. you know i can't sleep on an argument, i didn't mean to talk bad about your club like that. i was just still a bit too happy about the win."
your arm reached behind you to pull niamh further into you by her neck, sighing in comfort when you felt her continue to pepper soft kisses along your exposed skin.
"i didn't mean to insult you like that. i know how cocky you can get, i should've told you i wasn't up for teasing or just asked for space when i started getting mad."
you turned in her arms and pressed your forehead against hers instinctively, hands caressing her cheeks as you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. niamh continued to rub her thumbs across your hips in a comforting manner, both of you breathing in sync to calm down and forgive the other for lashing out. your thumbs traced along her jawline and up her chin, searching for her lips and dragging her bottom one down teasingly to let her know you were going to kiss her, the defender gladly letting you as she kissed you back softly with a smile to match your own. you pecked her lips a couple more times to test the waters, trying not to let your breathing pick up when she gripped your hips a tiny bit harsher with more intent than before.
"niamh,"
"y/n,"
she breathlessly whispered your name to match your call of hers, both of you closing your eyes and resting your foreheads together. the curtains were slightly drawn back from the window behind you- and by god, was the moonlight doing wonders for her eye colour.
"i love you baby."
your immediate response was to kiss her passionately, lingering on her lips with your thumb rubbing over her cheekbone and noses touching due to the lack of distance.
"i love you my girl."
you mirrored her words and felt her cheeks wrinkle up in a genuine smile, the defender leaning in to kiss you softly with one hand pulling you by the side of your neck as yours moved to trace along her pulse point lovingly. niamh smiled at the feeling of your fingertips trailing down her body, pulling away and biting your lip in a teasing response before you forced her to pull away by shoving her shoulder.
"turn around, i wanna be big spoon."
niamh complied to your order without any hesitation and a matching grin, turning around and reaching behind to tug your arm around her waist, kicking your leg softly when you scoffed at her eagerness and quickly sinking back into your touch with a relaxed sigh to match your own.
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theemporium · 1 month
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[4.1k] as promised, jack throws luke a belated birthday party before the season kicks off. except, luke gets more surprises than he bargained for. (smut)
series masterlist
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“I don’t get why we have to do this.”
“I’m just following instructions.”
“I already know Jack is throwing a party, there is no surprise.”
“I know. You have said it thirteen times since we left the apartment.”
Luke shot the older defenceman a look, his face blank and unimpressed. It had been bad enough that Jack had barged into his room at an ungodly hour on their off day, rambling away so fast that it took Luke a few minutes to even realise what he was saying. He had clothes thrown at his face and told he had fifteen minutes to get out of the house before he was dragged out. 
He was only mildly surprised to find John waiting outside their apartment complex, two coffees held in his hands and looking just as thrilled as Luke to be awake so early. And just like Luke, he had been given close to no instructions on what to do, other than keep Luke out of their apartment until everything was ready. 
Whenever that would be.
“I don’t get why we couldn’t just hang out at yours.” Luke said, leaning back against the hood of the car as he shovelled the ice cream around the small tub he was holding. “Or why he demanded I spend the day acting like a seven year old.” 
“To say goodbye to your youth before you turn twenty,” John replied.
Luke frowned. “I’m already twenty.”
“Semantics,” John shrugged.
Luke stared at his teammate for a few moments, letting the silence envelope them. He got along well with John, probably better than some of the older teammates. He didn’t want to say it to anyone else—like Jack or Quinn or his parents—but it was a little intimidating. He wasn’t the youngest guy in the team, and he knew he had others his age. But sometimes, the older defenceman were just…a little intense. 
He knew they meant well. He knew they only wanted to help and guide. But it was hard to believe the words they were saying when it was still pre-season, when Luke still felt like he had to prove himself on the ice, even after playoffs.
But John was a nice middle. He wasn’t old but he was experienced. He understood it a little better than some of the others. Luke might have even gone as far to say that John had been the closest thing to an actual friend that he felt on the team, like somebody he thinks would genuinely hang out with him outside of team hangouts and post-game pub crawls.
Luke’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at the older boy. “Do you know what Jack is planning?”
He could see the beginnings of a smirk tugging on John’s lips.
Luke pointed his little spoon in accusation. “You do!” 
“Eat your ice cream, Luke.” 
“Surely I get birthday boy privileges or something.”
John’s face broke out into a full blown grin. “Thought you were already twenty? Not technically the birthday boy then, are you?” 
Luke only rolled his eyes as the boy beside him cackled, but there was the makings of a smile on his face too. 
He had made the mistake of underestimating a Jack Hughes’ party.
Luke knew what his brother was like. He knew how his mind worked and how he thought and how he acted. He knew just what certain words and phrases really meant. He knew the kinds of tricks Jack tended to have up his sleeve. 
He had ranted to John about as much all day. He had warned you about the same.
He was fully equipped to be prepared with whatever was on the other side of the door.
And yet, Luke still found himself standing frozen in shock when he opened the apartment door to so many fucking people screaming happy birthday at him. More people than he ever considered possibly fitting into their apartment. 
Every surface had more bottles of alcohol on them than he could count, there were balloons and other decorations taped to the wall, and he was pretty sure he saw a fucking keg hidden amongst the crowd.
It was the most Jack Hughes kind of thing to throw him a party that resembled a frat party, more than a fucking birthday party. He shouldn’t have been surprised and he still was because, honestly, he didn’t think it would be much bigger than the team and their partners and some extra friends. 
Luke didn’t think he knew half the people in his house right now. Maybe more than half. 
And still, staring at the large group of people, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over the crowd as if he would be able to spot you in seconds. 
But he couldn’t.
Instead, Jack was dragging him into the apartment with a shove and a big smile. He had a drink pushed into his hands seconds later, more people wishing him a happy birthday and the overwhelming realisation that his social butterfly brother was going to drag him around to meet every single stranger currently in his house. 
And as much as he wanted to claim it was horrible—and it kind of was, socially—Jack undoubtedly knew how to throw a great party. 
He was in the middle of listening to some retelling of a goal from a game that Luke didn’t even care about when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He glanced around him, everyone far too focused on the storytelling before he slipped his phone out. He wished he was embarrassed with the way his smile grew when he saw it was from you. 
cherry🍒: which room is yours? 
cherry🍒: please answer quick before i break into your brother’s room
Luke pressed his lips together, trying to resist the urge to smile or laugh.
hockey boy: is there a reason you’re trying to sneak into my room? 
It didn’t even take a few seconds after he pressed send for you to respond. 
cherry🍒: stop being a smart ass and tell me which one
cherry🍒: otherwise i guess jack gets your present 
And it was stupid, really. He didn’t know what you got him. It could be a card for all he knew, and he would be grateful for it regardless. But still, something about the implication of your words made his cheeks flush in response. 
And something quite possessive bubbled in his chest at the idea of anyone else being in his position. 
It was his gift, after all. He had every right to feel possessive over it. Or, at least, that was what he told himself as he quickly responded. 
hockey boy: second door on the left
He watched the bubbles appear on his screen, let the seconds pass painfully until your message came through.
cherry🍒: come and get your present, birthday boy ;)
He stared at the text for a lot longer than he cared to admit before he was snapped out of his thoughts, feeling someone’s pointy elbow digging into his side. His head snapped up, finding Jesper staring at him with a slightly concerned look.
“You good? Your face has gone red.”
He could almost feel his cheeks burn hotter in response. 
“Uh, yeah,” Luke cleared his throat and gave the older boy a slightly strained smile. “I must’ve drank a little more than I expected. I’m just gonna go splash my face and I’ll be back.”
Jesper’s brows furrowed together. “You sure? I can go get Jack—”
“No, no,” Luke quickly reassured him, giving his shoulder a small pat and squeeze before he took a step away from the crowd. “Promise I’m all good. Just need to freshen up.”
Jesper didn’t look convinced but Luke didn’t give him much time to say anything else before he rushed off. 
He kept his head down, trying to avoid eye contact and getting dragged into conversations as best as he could. He gave polite smiles when he could, pushing through the crowd of people without a second thought before he made it to the corridor that led off to the bedrooms.
It was quieter, which was expected with most of the guests in the main communal areas but Luke didn’t give much thought to them or anything else as he made a beeline for his room. 
His heart was thundering in his chest as he reached for the door, quickly sliding inside and shutting the door with a heavy sigh before he finally turned around. He leaned back against the door, taking in the sight of you casually sitting on his bed like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Maybe because, for some reason that was beyond his own understanding, it was. 
You sitting on his bed, leaning back against your hands as you grinned at him. Your white dress was a stark contrast against his navy blue sheets, resting around mid-thigh and it drove him crazy. Almost as crazy as the cherry red lipstick did. 
“Happy birthday, Hughes.”
His nose scrunched. “You can’t call me that when my brother is under the same roof.”
You snorted. “Aw, you know you’re my favourite.” 
Luke didn’t bite back his smile this time. “Is that my birthday present?” 
You grinned back, patting the spot on the bed next to you. “Why don’t you come find out?” 
He barely had a chance to sit on the bed before your hands were on him, fingers lightly tugging on his curls as you pressed a smacking kiss onto his cheek with a cheesy grin. 
“Happy birthday, Luke.” 
He huffed out a laugh, turning to look at you with an elated expression. “Thanks, Cherry,” he murmured, almost shyly as your fingers remained in his hair, playing with his curls like it was instinctive. “How are you enjoying the party?”
Your lips twitched upwards. “Your brother sure would’ve made a great frat boy.”
“It’s his true calling,” Luke joked.
“And you’re a popular boy,” you commented.
His cheeks flushed. “Oh no…I…I don’t know half of them, to be honest. Maybe even more than that.” 
Something glinted in your eyes and you smiled at him. “So I’m one of the lucky few people who actually know the birthday boy?” 
He swallowed. “One of the few, yeah.” 
“I’m honoured,” you hummed, tilting your head to the side. “I’m guessing you won’t be missed if I keep you up here for a bit, then?”
He blinked, staring at you for a few seconds before he remembered he had to respond. “Uh, yeah, no. We can…we can stay here for a bit. Or a while. Or however long you want.” 
You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Good. Get comfortable.”
His eyes widened a little. “Huh?” 
“Get comfortable, Luke,” you repeated, something quite like pride blooming in your chest as you watched his face blush in response. “Need to give you your birthday present.” 
“Oh,” he murmured before he realised. “Oh! Right, I—” 
Luke glanced at you for a second, seeing if you were going to give him any hint on what was happening but you just smiled at him. He cleared his throat, almost embarrassed by the way his dick twitched in response before he shuffled back onto the bed until his back was pressed against the headboard. 
“Is this okay?”
“Perfect, baby, always so perfect for me,” you murmured, not wasting any time as you began to crawl towards him. 
He gulped a little, watching you like he was completely entranced. He expected you to swing your leg over his lap, to feel your thighs on either side of him as you settled yourself on him. He waited for you to be close enough before he could reach out, before he could pull you closer. He itched to have his hands on you.
But you crawled until you were kneeling beside him, your knees brushing against his thigh and hand on his stomach—but it still didn’t feel close enough for his liking. 
Yet, when he opened his mouth to speak, you were already leaning forward to kiss him.
The way he moaned in relief the second he felt your lips on his was almost pathetic, but Luke couldn’t bring himself to care. You shifted in your spot before your free hand cupped his cheek, guiding his head so you could deepen the kiss with a swipe of your tongue against his lips. 
He parted his lips with no hesitation. 
“Hm, good boy,” you hummed, your breath tickling against his lips and it made his cock strain in his jeans. 
“Always for you,” he responded, almost like it was instinctive. It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up, for his body to flush in realisation.
But he could feel your smile widen against his lips and it made it worth it.
You pulled back, panting softly as your hooded eyes took him in. Your gaze glanced over every inch of his face before they lingered on his lips. Your eyes darkened and your lips twitched as your hand moved to cup his jaw, to let your thumb slowly swipe over his lips.
“Cherry red looks good on you, baby,” you commented, and it was only then he noticed how smudged your own lipstick looked. 
“Might give you a run for your money,” he retorted, his voice a little lower and rougher than it was moments ago.
“Hm, I bet you could.” 
He gulped a little, the blood roaring in his ears as he felt the anticipation of your next move crackle under his skin like lightning waiting to strike. He watched you closely like he was scared to miss something, like this would all end if he looked away.
“Relax, Luke,” you said in a softer voice, the hand on his stomach lightly fisting the material of his shirt. “You trust me, right?” 
He nodded.
“And you’ll tell me if you wanna stop?”
He nodded again.
“Good,” you murmured before you were leaning in again. “Then sit back and enjoy your present, birthday boy.”
And every other coherent thought Luke had in his brain went completely out the window as you leaned in to kiss him again. 
There was the distant thumping bass sounding from the main room that made him feel like he was back to the party just over a month ago. When he was in the small bathroom with you, feeling just as hot and flushed as he did now but for very different reasons. And if he didn’t have your tongue in his mouth, he was sure he would have appreciated how poetic it all felt.
But he really, really couldn’t bring his brain to do anything except focus on you, you, you.
A needy noise sounded from the back of his throat as your hand on his stomach travelled downwards, as the heel of your palm pushed against the bulge in his jeans. 
“So responsive,” you murmured between kisses as you continued to palm him over his jeans. 
He felt breathless, his brain feeling fuzzy and his body feeling overwhelmed as he desperately tried to keep up with you, to kiss you back, to not buck his hips like he desperately wanted to do.
“This okay?” 
He sighed, nodding his head.
You hand paused, and he almost whined in response, before your fingers paused at the button of his jeans. “Still okay?”
He nodded again.
“Words, baby. I know you can use them for me.”
“Yeah, still okay,” he managed to get out between gritted teeth, almost sounding wounded as he felt your fingers circle his button before slowly popping it undone. He let out a staggered, heavy breath as your hand slid into his jeans, until the warmth of your palm squeezed his cock over his boxers. “Oh, fuck.”
“Shhh, can’t be too loud, baby,” you murmured, watching the way his head slumped back against the headboard with a thump. “Not when they can hear you.”
“There’s music,” he defended weakly, his eyes fluttering shut as you slowly began to stroke his clothed cock. 
“Your pretty noises are louder,” you teased, unable to help yourself as you leaned forward to press a kiss to the hollow of his neck. “Help me get these off, yeah?” 
Luke could only find it within himself to nod and lift his hips to help shuffle the fabric of his jeans and boxers to pool just above his knees. “Please.”
“No need to beg this time,” you assured the boy, pressing another kiss just under his jaw. “Gonna give the birthday boy what he wants.” 
He blinked his eyes open, expecting to find you staring back at him. Instead, your focus was on his exposed dick, resting against his stomach. He swallowed a little, suddenly self-conscious and painfully aware that despite the amount of times you had made him come, this was the first time he had ever…well…it was the first time you had ever seen his dick.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Nothing except a noise mixed between a moan and a whimper as your thumb traced over the slit on his head.
“Pretty boy, pretty cock,” you commented casually, like your thumb wasn’t spreading the small beads of precome over the head of his cock.
“Cherry,” he breathed out, fighting the urge to clench his eyes shut. “Fuck. Please.”
“I like when you say my name like that,” you confessed, turning to look at his flushed cheeks and glossy eyes that were already staring back at you. You never once looked away from him as you raised your thumb to your mouth, wrapping your lips around it.
He gritted his teeth together. “Shit.” 
The eye contact remained as you licked the palm of your hand before reaching down to stroke his cock again, no layers of fabric acting as a barrier anymore. Just your warm, wet palm slowly pumping the length of his hard cock, in his fucking bedroom when a whole party of guests celebrating him were just god-knows how many feet away.
“Fuck, yes,” he moaned out, slumping back against the headboard again as you continued to stroke his cock. His eyes fluttered shut as a small voice in the back of his head muttered about how much better it felt when it wasn’t his own hand. 
“That’s it, baby, just sit back and enjoy,” you whispered, closing the distance between your lips and his neck once again. Your breath tickled along the column of his neck, sending small shivers through his body as he tried not to twitch his hips.
“Feels good,” he managed to blurt out.
He could feel your smile against his skin. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” he nodded hopelessly, his hands fisting the duvet on either side of him. “So good.”
“Hm,” you hummed in amusement, your teeth lightly nipping a spot just before his ear. “You gonna last long, baby?” 
He shook his head, whimpering.
“Gonna be a good boy and come for me?” 
He nodded without a second of hesitation. 
And then he felt your lips against his ear, your breath warm and your voice sultry as you whispered, “then come for me, Luke.”
And he fucking shattered. 
White, hot pleasure exploded through him. He could feel it in every nerve in his body, from the tip of his fingers to the end of his toes. He could feel the rush down his spine, the spots dotting his vision as he tried to ground his bearings. He could feel his cock twitching in your palm as he came, as ropes of his come exploded over your hand and his thighs and stomach.
“Holy shit,” he breathed out, chest heaving with soft pants as he took a few moments before he turned his head to look at you.
“Like your birthday present?” You asked with an innocent smile.
Luke snorted, not replying as he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. It felt like the natural response and you didn’t seem to push him away. 
When he pulled back, he reached for a box of tissues and handed you a few to clean yourself up whilst he did the same. It was only thirty seconds of silence before he opened his mouth to say something, his brain still fuzzy and the oddest urge to say ‘thank you’ on the tip of his tongue when he heard familiar voices on the other side of his door.
“Nah, I swear Jack said his room was to the right.”
“He said left, dipshit.”
“No, he definitely said right.”
Luke’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you, a sudden burst of adrenaline and panic ridding him of whatever post-orgasm brain fog he was experiencing seconds ago. “Get under the bed.”
You blinked. “What—”
“Get under the bed now,” Luke hissed as he quickly scrambled to pull his boxers and jeans up.
You listened to him, despite his confusion, as you quickly slid off his bed and crawled underneath the frame. You disappeared just as the door to his room burst open and Luke was met with three very familiar faces grinning at him. 
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LUKEY!” 
Despite hearing their voices, the shock of seeing three of his closest friends didn’t hit him until they were standing right in front of him. His heart was still thundering in his chest and his brain still felt a little delayed, but the smile on his face was genuine as he took in the sight of Mark, Ethan and Rutger.
“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” Luke retorted, shuffling off his bed. He contemplated hugging them before remembering what had just occurred seconds ago and thought better of it. 
“You really think we were gonna miss your birthday?” Ethan asked with a scoff.
“I mean, it was a few weeks ago…”
Rutger lightly punched his arm. “Don’t be a dick, we just flew from Michigan to be here.”
Luke raised his brows in surprise. “You did?”
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, bud,” Mark replied, a softer smile on his face. “You may have hit the big leagues but you can’t get rid of us.”
He swallowed back the lump in his throat, an odd pang of homesickness in his heart craving to be a college student in Michigan once again. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I think the better question is why the fuck you are hiding at your own party,” Ethan spoke up, slapping his arm around Luke’s shoulders before he began guiding him to the door. “Your brother splurged on a shit ton of booze downstairs, we should be taking advantage of that.”
“And kicking their asses in beer pong,” Mark added with a grin.
“Let’s fucking go!” Rutger whooped, already the first one out the door with the expectation of the others to follow.
“Gonna embarrass them all,” Ethan grinned, turning his head to look at Luke before he frowned a little. “Hey, what’s that on your neck?”
Luke’s eyes widened as his hand instantly came up to his neck, as though he would be able to feel the lipstick staining his skin. “Uh…it’s…a rash.”
Ethan’s brows furrowed together. “Damn, really? It kinda looks—”
“Are you two coming or what?”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “We’re coming!”
“Hurry up or Mark’s my partner in beer pong!” 
Ethan scoffed, his mouth parting in offence. “Absolutely not—” 
Luke didn’t get much of a chance to say anything else before Ethan and the others all but dragged him back into the party. The guilt of leaving you in his room swirled inside him, but he waited until the boys were distracted before he managed to slip his phone out of his pocket. 
hockey boy: i am so sorry about that
hockey boy: i didn’t mean to leave you like that
hockey boy: i feel like a dickhead 
His lip was tucked between his teeth as the typing bubbles appeared. 
cherry🍒:  don’t worry about it, luke
cherry🍒: have fun with your friends 
cherry🍒: hope you liked your birthday present ;)
His cheeks burned but he grinned down at his phone.
hockey boy: don’t think anything can top it
He paused for a few moments, glancing up to find his friends still lost in some debate on who was gaining Mark as their beer pong partner before his focus shifted back to his phone. With some lingering confidence and the shots Ethan made him do as soon as they left his room in his system, he found himself typing and hitting send before he could over think it all.
hockey boy: next time i get to make you come
hockey boy: it’s only fair 
Luke watched as your response came in soon after. 
cherry🍒: maybe you can show me how good you really are with those hands of yours 
.
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solarsturniolo · 2 months
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gonna need an nsfw alphabet from you for Matt if u haven’t already
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Matt Sturniolo NSFW alphabet
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Warnings: NSFW (obviously) / Sex / kinks / like it’s literally descriptive blurbs about what he’s like during sex idk what else to even put lmao
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A = Aftercare: Matt’s a sweetheart and he makes sure to take good care of you after doing the deed. He’ll clean you up and help you slip into one of his shirts before pulling you into his arms to hold you. Whispering soft praises against your hair, peppering kisses across your head and face. If there’s anything that you need, he’s doing it for you in a heartbeat.
B = Body part: His favorite body part of his are his hands, the one part of him that can feel every inch of you. He can hold you, squeeze you, caress you. His hands know every crevice, every crook and cranny of your body. He could navigate your body with his eyes closed. His favorite body part of yours are your lips. He’d kiss you for hours if you’d let him. He loves how soft they are against his skin when you kiss him, and he loves the way they look when you smile at him. Not to mention how pretty his name sounds falling from your lips.
C = Cum: He’ll typically cum on your stomach or face, but some mornings he’s too lazy to put on a condom and too high with bliss to pull out. It’s rare when it happens, and he knows the consequences that could come with it, but there’s nothing he loves more than finishing inside you after a round of filthy sleepy morning sex.
D = Dirty secret: He reads fanfiction to study things to say or do during sex. Sometimes you wonder how he comes up with some of the things he says or how he knows just what to do at just the right time. He’s just glad you haven’t found his tumblr yet.
E = Experience: He hadn’t had sex very much before meeting you, maybe only once or twice. It took some guidance from you but he was a fast learner.
F = Favorite position: He loves missionary, he thinks the intimacy and closeness only enhances the alluring moment between you both. That being said, he also loves when you ride him. He loves anything that makes you feel more close and connected to each other. He also just likes being able to see your face.
G = Goofy: It’s no big secret that Matt’s a goofball. This doesn’t change in the bedroom. Sometimes between positions he’ll tickle your sides, other times he’ll stumble over his words and make a silly face. Something about it is charming and admirable, like he doesn’t change who he is in these intimate moments. He’s still the same goofy guy you fell in love with.
H = Hair: He keeps it neat and trimmed. He’ll let it grow out if he knows he’s not going to see you for a long period of time, but he likes to keep it well tamed when you’re around. His facial hair, however, he will grow out for…personal reasons.
I = Intimacy: Gentle touches and caresses, soft kisses all over your body, sweet whispers of praise…Matt is very intimate. He wants to soak it all in, every delicious second of it. He believes the sensual foreplay and teasing is just as important as the actual intercourse itself. He wants to be as close and passionate with you as he physically can.
J = Jack off: He’s a very organized individual and he has a system for everything, jerking off is no different. Every time he knows exactly what pictures and videos of yours to look at, and he knows he only needs about fifteen minutes max. He’s quiet and composed, though as he gets closer he’ll slip up and let a few whimpers out. He’ll lift up his shirt enough to spill his cum onto torso, then he’ll clean himself up and go back to whatever it was that he was doing before.
K = Kink: Matt isn’t super kinky, but he does have a handful of favorites. He likes choking, spanking, and bondage, but he doesn’t go out of his comfort zone too much to try anything crazy.
L = Location: Matt is a pretty old fashioned guy when it comes to where he wants to have sex. The bed is his favorite because he has you all to himself and doesn’t have to worry about any distractions. That being said, he still enjoys the risk every now and again. The car and the kitchen are his other two favorites. He loves to come up behind you after breakfast and snake his arms around your waist, kissing your neck softly. “You take such good care of me,” he whispers in his gravely sleepy voice. He’ll gently push you to lean over the counter, his hands moving to grasp your hips. “Now let me take care of you.”
M = Motivation: He knows it’s time to drag you to the bedroom when you’re kissing his neck. It’s the one thing that drives him absolutely crazy, and you know it.
N = No: Matt has no interest in pegging whatsoever. He’s fine with experimenting with the submissive stuff, but he draws the line at anything penetrating him. He also refuses to use a gag toy. He wants you to be able to use the safe word if the time ever came, so he ruled out anything that takes longer than 5 seconds to spit out of your mouth.
O = Oral: He doesn’t really care about receiving. He loves it, of course, but he would much rather be taking care of you. He loves to be buried between your legs, in fact he’ll find pretty much any excuse to be there. He will not move forward with anything until he has made you finish on his tongue at least once.
P = Pace: it depends on the mood that he’s in. Most of the time he likes to take his time, slow and sensual sex with soft music playing. But some days he has the animalistic urge to push you down onto the bed and have his way with you. It’s not often, usually only when you get him riled up, like when you manage to incorporate thigh high socks into whatever outfit you plan out. It awakens something primal in him and all he can think about for the rest of the day is what he’s going to do once you get back into his bedroom that night.
Q = Quickie: Matt prefers taking his time with you, so a quickie isn’t necessarily his favorite. But sometimes, in the heat of the moment, he’s game to squeeze a round in before he and his brothers have to leave to film. It’s very rare though, because one time he didn’t get to finish before he had to leave and you could definitely tell that he was irritated by it in the footage they had recorded that night.
R = Risk: Matt does not like taking risks. No shower sex, he wouldn’t want to risk slipping and hurting you. No public sex, he wouldn’t want anyone to see or hear and potentially catch you. If he is feeling risky, he’ll take you to an empty parking garage to have sex in his car.
S = Stamina: Matt can really only go about two rounds before he’s done for the night, but fortunately he also lasts a fairly long time. However, when he hasn’t seen you in a long period of time, a third round is almost guaranteed. He can’t help it, it’s hard not to finish fast the first round when he hasn’t held you in almost three weeks.
T = Toys: This man owns a fleshlight, argue with the wall.
U = Unfair: Love is a word that doesn’t even begin to describe his feelings toward teasing. He practically gets off to it. Watching you squirm and beg for him all while he just tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “What’s the matter, pretty girl? You don’t like when i do this?” He’ll smirk knowingly as you whine at his words, begging for him to do anything.
V = Volume: Hes not super loud, he doesn’t like the idea of anyone hearing what’s happening in his room when you’re there with him. Not because he’s ashamed, but because he doesn’t like to share. He likes any and all intimate moments with you to be only his. That being said, he still wants you to know how good you make him feel. He’ll grunt and moan softly against your skin, he’ll whisper dirty things in your ear about how perfect you feel around him. He knows just what to do to drive you crazy, he just likes to do it quietly :)
W = Wild card: He secretly enjoys being submissive sometimes, but he will never be the first one to suggest it or initiate it. But when you do suggest it, he is more than happy to fulfil your wishes as well as his own.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): Matt has a great build, he’s not too big but not super scrawny. He’s toned but not ripped. As for what’s in his pants, he has what would be categorized as the perfect dick. Not small but not huge, he has enough to fill you up perfectly every time.
Y = Yearning: His sex drive is pretty high, especially around you. When you’re not there, it’s easier for him to ignore it, but when you’re a foot away from him he feels this almost primal need inside of him. The need to push you down and make you his. When you’re around, there’s no telling when his libido will dip, he just wants it the entire time you’re with him.
Z = Zzz: Matt cherishes the time after sex, he loves getting to snuggle with you and watch a few episodes of your new favorite show or having an in-depth discussion about your ongoing beef with that coworker you don’t like. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to be close to you. He usually won’t fall asleep until you have, and even then he likes to stay up and admire you while you’re at your most peaceful state.
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a/n: hope you all enjoyed! please remember that these are all fictional.
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Tags: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt69 @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @sturnioloskies @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chris @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @breeloveschris @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @mattsfavwh3re @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @rootbeerworshiper
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