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#'they had a weird relationship when you think about it they slept in the same room--'
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Ok now i'm thinking about Robin again bc of that post... And Robin and my PC's relationship.
Like imagine you have a friend. She's your best friend in the whole world. You grew up together and have always been there for each other. You were never as brave as her who kept picking fights on your behalf, but you were the only one who could give her some comfort, who ever even really saw that tough girl cry. As you guys grew up, though, things started to change.
You have always slept in the same bed and cuddled up together, right? But now it feels so different. You notice your heart speeds up when she hugs you. One day you wake up and she's staring at you in a way that makes you blush and hold her tighter to hide your face.
You know she'll always protect you and pick fights on your behalf just like when you were kids, though, so for a while you hide it when things get bad. You have to make money so you sell your most beloved belongings. She notices and for a moment you fear she's going to do something stupid, but she just takes on your burden and happily tells you you don't have to worry anymore.
You realize you're in love with her. You might always have been in love with her. You think about all your moments together, and wonder if she could feel the same.
When you decide to tell her, though, she shows up with a girlfriend. A scrawny girl from her English class who everyone avoids at the hallways.
"She's bullied a lot." Your friend says, showing her savior complex. "I had to help her."
"Did you have to date her, though?" You try not to let the jealousy show in your voice. "I mean, do you even like her?"
Your friend stays quiet, and that's the end of the conversation as she presses to load your save on Castlevania. You don't mention her girlfriend again.
Then, she starts showing up a bit later to the class you have together. She's always at the library, and you naively hoped that she had just been picking up her studies since she had always been a slacker. Key word, naively. Once the librarian's assistant kisses her cheek on her way out of the canteen, you snap. You leave her behind and don't even care when her weird, jealous girlfriend slips on your table and starts clinging to your friend. You just go to your class, pretending none of this is real.
That doesn't last, and you knew it wouldn't. She knocks on your door at night, looking weary from her waitressing job and saying she was worried you wouldn't let her in.
"She's a friend." She explains, talking about the librarian's assistant. "Like, come on, you know how religious she is. She wouldn't even look at me that way..."
You don't buy it, but you find it strange that she's bringing it up to you. You ask her why she's even explaining herself, and for the first time in forever, you see her hesitate.
Then, she kisses you. It could have been the best day of your life, and it briefly was, but then you remember she still has a girlfriend. She tells you that the note you put in her room and then took away as soon as you came back from school, she read it. She knows how you feel, and she feels the same. She was just afraid of it seeming like she was taking advantage of your reliance on her. You could cry, then.
It's only after you two let out all of the tension that had been building up inside of you both for years that she shatters your world.
"I'm not breaking up with her." She tells you, no longer hesitating after you ask if her girlfriend isn't going to be upset if they break up. At your flabbergasted expression, she continues. "She needs me."
"What about me?" You allow yourself to be selfish again. Don't you need her?
"...You know me." She smiles weakly. "You're always first to me. But... I can't let people push her around again. I just can't."
You wonder how having her tongue deep inside that girl's throat does anything to stop the bullies, but you don't have the courage to say it with your chest. You've never been as brave as her. That's the end of the conversation, and you know you'll ruin it, the thing you've dreamed of for so long, if you push your luck too far.
So you try to make amends. You can have her every day, most of the time, you try to remind yourself, and her so-called girlfriend only clings to her for a few minutes during lunch time. That's bearable. You can do it. You can do it to sleep with her every night, to kiss her every morning. Keeping that girl safe is important to her, so you bear it even if you don't get it.
So you bear it. You bear it when she definitely seems much closer to the librarian's assistant now, as they leave you to stare at her girlfriend stab food with a fork during lunch and then you see them in hallway as they giggle with their arms intertwined, sharing a milkshake like you used to do with her. You even bear it when she starts getting friendlier with that one bully who has always made your lives hell. And you bear it as you see her girlfriend taking your place in her bed as you try to slip into her room, knowing you can't say anything about it.
You wish you could stop, but it's all you can do. She still gives you strength, she tells people off when they make fun of you for dressing like a boy (like yourself, you try to say, even if no one listens), she protects you from worse threats on the daily. Bearing it is maybe the least you can do.
You turn your anger outwards. The first time you hit someone with a book for giving her pain, she looks at you differently. Maybe that was what you were missing all along. When you slip into her room that night, she seems much eager to have your body as close as possible to her own.
You stare at the little owl her girlfriend gave her, and disgust that can only be washed away by her sweet kisses fills your mouth. You really wish you didn't have to bear it, especially not in your own home. You wish that creepy girl had to be the one to see the person she loved clinging to someone else, for a change.
Ah, yes, how you wish she'd see it.
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dubiousdisco · 1 year
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I hope goncharov's success will give scorsese the push he needs to finally let Robert de Niro and Al Pacino kiss
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gay-dorito-dust · 18 days
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Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his gn s/o telling him that they can't sleep in the same bed as him because they will cling onto him like a koala bear in their sleep?
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Sunday: ‘all the more reason for me to keep you close.’ He says smiling as he pulls you into bed with him.
And he wasn’t joking when he says this because then he’ll know that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon without his knowledge, seeing as how all he had to do was open his eyes and you’d be there, clinging onto him very much like you said you would.
He’ll also use it as an excuse to watch over you as you slept, something he doesn’t find weird or creepy as he expects lovers to watch one another in their most vulnerable states.
It’s for your own protection he swears but then why did it feel controlling?
(You never speak up about this out of a deep guttural feeling that you should wait to see how this all plays out, he couldn’t keep this character up forever. You love him but…something didn’t feel quite right but you were more than willing to play ignorant for the time being.)
Sunday finds this information to be adorable and utterly sweet.
However in private he wonders to himself, more specifically about who could’ve possibly told you that clinging onto your loved one during the night was anything other than prof of your love but just in a different form, and ways he could go about proving them wrong in a thousand different ways.
Until then he’ll indulge you in anything and everything to prove that there was no one out there that could compare to him as a lover.
Welt: ‘there’s no need to feel embarrassed, if anything I’d be more than honoured.’
Welt loves the honesty and trust you have to confine such information about yourself to him in confidence.
It’s a reminder of the strong foundations of your relationship, however he couldn’t help but find it cute that you’d ever think he’d be annoyed at the prospect of being cuddled at night.
If anything it makes him love you all the more if that was even possible.
He won’t pressure you into sharing a bed with him but he’d be more than happy if you felt comfortable enough in doing so.
He’s not a dick, he’s a gentleman.
He’s also extremely reassuring about it too and will tell you that he doesn’t mind you clinging onto him at all. If anything he’d probably encourage you to cling onto him in your sleep if that’s what helps you sleep easier.
Welt is more than willing to accommodate for you no matter what, just say the word and Welt will give you his unwavering support.
Gallagher: ‘don’t temp me with a good time sweetheart.’ He’d tease whilst pulling you in close until you were nose to nose and chest to chest.
News just in; big intimidating wolverine man likes cuddles. He’s a secret cuddle bug, though it ain’t a secret to you, obviously.
He just loves the feeling of you close by, knowing that you were just within arms reach of him were reason enough to have him sleeping with a content smile upon his face.
He’s just finding more and more reasons to squeeze you into oblivion because you’re just so fucking adorable and precious in his eyes.
He will want to prove you wrong in not sharing a bed with him by making you share the bed with him all the time. So you might as well get use to it because you’re not leaving anytime soon with his strong of a hold he has on you.
If anything Gallagher is worse when it comes to clinging on to you in his sleep. Firstly he won’t let go and if he feels the slightest bit of pull, he’s already shifting his body weight further on to you, trapping you beneath him and making it neigh impossible to move even a muscle.
Blade: ‘as if you weren’t already clinging onto me like a koala.’ He’d say sarcastically as you’d pout and smack his arm before moving away from him to convey how ‘hurt’ you were to him.
‘That was a compliment you worm.’ - Blade.
‘Well it didn’t feel like one.’ - you, huffing as your lips went into a full blown pout.
Your efforts in making him apologise fails as within one swift movement, you were caged in his arms as you could feel him breathing down your neck.
‘Look who’s the clingy one now.’ You’d try to tease, only to hear him chuckle. ‘No. Still you.’ He’d reply and you couldn’t help but cuddle further into him, uncaring of the fact that you were still very much proving him right.
Blade may act like he hates you clinging onto him but yet he couldn’t help but melt into your embrace and find the much needed sleep he’s been missing out on for so long.
A sense of momentary peace washes over him whenever you touched in, whether that be a graze or otherwise, his mind seems to clear with you; sure he’ll tease you but if he genuinely didn’t like it he would’ve told you straight up, after all Blade’s not the type to mince his words.
He’d much rather have you cling onto him for the rest of your lives than never be unapologetically clingy at all. He never admits it but he loves it when you cling to him in your sleep, you made him feel like he was with more than he ever gives himself credit for.
Dan Heng: Not gonna lie, he’d be in absolute heaven if you were to cling to him in your sleep, but his face would be like this the entire time: 😐
He’s trying his hardest not to let his true feeling show but he somehow fails whenever you shift in a way he doesn’t like and without thinking, pulls you back into his arms and keeps you caged against his chest.
You’re most certainly not complaining but then again you never expected Dan Heng to be the affectionate type when sleeping.
Dan Heng on the other hand took this opportunity to hide away his face into your head/neck area, but it’s not out of embarrassment, but more so because his dragon noodle self wants to leech off of your warmth and engraving your scent into his very being.
‘Are you purring?’ - you in the middle of the night.
‘No. Maybe…*sigh* yes.’ - Dan Heng probably.
He acts like this wasn’t something he’s been wishing for ages, when in actuality it was probably the first thing he’s dreamt of when he first discovered that he had a crush on you.
Something that he has yet to admit to you to this day but never will because it’s a hill he’s all too willing to die on.
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ghostboneswrites2 · 1 month
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Virgin
Summary: Reader is a virgin. Daryl might as well be.
Alexandria // pre-Negan era ; established but unlabeled relationship
Super mild corruption kink vibes (if you squint) on both sides. Reader is a nervous wreck, Daryl is kinda clueless but charming, skilled, and smooth as ever.
This is long and I'm not sorry about it.
18+ MDNI || Warnings: slight age gap, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p-in-v, generally embarrassingly graphic and descriptive smut, drinking (not drunk sex), loss of virginity, profanity
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        Your hands shook as you filled two glasses with whiskey. Daryl would be over any minute. You had this date planned all week. Daryl was typically pretty busy with his bike or recruiting with Aaron, but he always made time for you when he could. Neither of you ever put a label to it -- boyfriend, girlfriend, partners, lovers -- it was all the same and those words never uttered from either of your lips. It just was what it was, and it made you both happy, whatever that meant. You did, however, often wonder what you really were to him. You liked to think he'd always choose you, but how could you know? You never would, not until it came down to an issue where you were a choice over something else. 
        You replayed your conversation with Rosita in your head all day, pacing nervously in your shared home with Rosita and Tara as you tried to rationalize how you would move forward with this newfound information.
        "So, spill! How is it with Daryl?" Rosita asked curiously, drawing out Daryl's name with a sultry, mocking tone.
        "Oh, things are good! He's coming over tonight, actually." You smiled softly to yourself.
        "No, dummy!" She giggled, slapping your arm playfully. "I mean in bed! Is he rough? Tender? Does he have any weird fetishes? Is he a boob guy or an ass guy? I peg him for an ass guy but I could be wrong."
        "Uh -- What?" You were stunned? In bed? You really never thought about that.
        "Come on, don't be greedy! Share the details!" Rosita practically begged.
        "Details.. Right. Well, there aren't any, really." You said slowly.
        "What?" She gasped. "Don't tell me he's the vanilla missionary type."
        "Vanilla what? No, I just mean we haven't really.."
        "You haven't had sex?!" She gawked at you. "(Y/N), stop right now."
        "Is that a bad thing?"
        "Men have needs, (Y/N). And so do we! It's the end of the world!" She shook your shoulders. "You gotta get your rocks off!"
        Rocks off? What did that even mean? You weren't really that much younger than him. You were twenty when the dead began to roam the earth. But, you were a virgin then, and you were still one now. You never liked anyone enough to get so vulnerable with them. You heard the rumors at school when girls would give it up 'too easily,' or when the guys at your jobs would be snickering about a girl they slept with. What her boobs were like, how she sounded, all the flaws they found with her body. You just thought it would be so foolish to put yourself out there like that, to be one of those girls they were talking about. How could you ever trust someone enough to see and feel every part of you after all of that?
        It wasn't that you didn't get turned on. You did, as much as anyone else. You  just took care of yourself. Plus, it wasn't like the apocalypse provided many opportunities for your first time.. Or did it? Had you been missing signals? Passing by your chances to get naked with someone? Did he even want that? How would you approach it?
        A knock at the door yanked you out of your thoughts. Oh god, was he there already? Was it time to get your rocks off?
        "Hey!" You grinned anxiously at Daryl as you swung the door open. He noticed your nerves right away. He raised an eyebrow.
        "Hey." He greeted. "Y'alright?"
        "Huh? Oh! Yeah." You waved him off. 
        "Well, uh, can I come in?" He asked. You realized you were standing there, blocking his entry, which you never did. You always threw the door open and walked away, allowing him to enter on his own accord and make himself comfortable. You internally facepalmed. 
        "Oh, duh." You chuckled as you stepped aside and shut the door behind him. "I poured us some drinks."
        "Cool." He nodded, stepping over to the table where two equally filled glasses stood waiting. He grabbed one and took a sip.
        You glanced him over. Clean clothes, no sweaty smell; he bathed for you. His eyes scanned you just as quick. He was a little surprised at your dress. It wasn't extravagant, just a floral sundress that fit you in all the right places,but you never wore dresses unless Rosita and Tara forced you for an event. You were more of a jeans and a tee kind of gal.
        "Pretty dress." He complimented.
        "Thanks." You blushed, smoothing your hands over it.
        "Rosita make ya wear that for me?" He wondered as he took another sip.
        "Oh! No. I just-- Uh.." You stuttered. God, why were you so nervous? He had to know something was up. You never struggled to talk to him. He was you dearest companion.
        "Just wanted to look pretty for me." He concluded with a smirk. Your face felt like it was melting right off the bone.
        You chuckled nervously and grabbed your own glass, taking a gulp, hoping to calm your nerves.
        "Sure you're alright?" He asked again.
        "Mm-hm!" You hummed with an eager nod. "I'm fine!"
        He shook his head and swirled the liquid around in his glass. 
        "You, uh.. Find us a movie for tonight?" 
        "A movie..? Oh! Right! Yes." You hurried over to the coffee table where a copy of School of Rock sat idly. "Do you like Jack Black?"
        "Mm-mm." He shrugged. "Think I've seen his stuff before."
        "Oh! He's funny. My brother used to watch all of his movies. Did you know he had a band?" You rambled.
        "Nah." He shook his head. "Didn't know."
        "It started with a T I think. I can't remember what they were called." You went on as you bent over to set the disc in the tray and get the movie ready. When you turned around you nearly dropped your glass. He was standing right behind you. "Oh.." You breathed. "You scared me."
        She studied your every feature, trying to figure you out. You were never a mystery to him. He liked that. You never seemed to be keeping anything from him, never had an ulterior motive. You were always a raw person. He never had to try and decipher you like he felt he had to with most girls he liked in the past.
        "Why you actin' weird?" He asked in a low husk.
        "Weird?" You squeaked. "I'm not--"
        "Ya are." He argued. "Real weird. And you never wear dresses."
        "I do wear dresses sometimes--"
        "Only when someone makes ya.You don't ever gotta dress up for me. Ya know that." 
        "W-- I know, I just.."
        "Then why?" He catechized you mercilessly. Your knees felt weak under the weight of this burden of nerves and unsureness.
        "I just..." You were at a loss. How could you play this off? You decided to try your best with whatever your brain could muster for an excuse. You straightened up and crossed your arms. "I just thought it'd be nice to look good for you, Daryl Dixon. Is that a problem?"
        He smirked a little, finding amusement in your sad excuse for confidence. He shook his head. "Nah, no problem at all."
        "Good. Now, excuse me so I can get out movie started."
----
        About a half hour into the movie and you were still imploding. Was it time to make the move? How could you do that when you couldn't even bare to look at him? Hell, you two had never even kissed. You just... Watched movies, sat close enough to be touching, snuck off on forest strolls, you know, normal things. Or was that not normal? Were you supposed to have initiated something more by now?
        He had been sneaking little glances at you the whole time, registering your faint expressions of worry. What was on your mind that had you so riled up? Had he done something? He doubted it. So what was it?
        His arm that was outstretched on the back of the couch behind you twitched a little. He moved to play with your hair but you stood up abruptly. "I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back." 
        You sped off to the upstairs bathroom and looked in the mirror. Your internal battles were written all over your face. He had to know something was up. Actually, you knew he did, because he asked you what was wrong like three times before the movie began. Shit, what now?
        You took a breath and splashed some cold water over your face in efforts to ground yourself, patting it dry with a hand towel. Okay, (Y/N). It's time. Get over your fears and just make the move. As soon as you figure out what the move is, anyways.
        Maybe you could just kiss him and he'd initiate the rest. That's how it works in the movies sometimes, right? Right. Exactly. You got this. Just go down there, and kiss him. No questions asked.
        So, you marched down the stairs, strode to the couch, and froze, staring down at him with wide eyes as he sat there with a questioning gaze. Shit, what were you doing again?
        "Everything alright?" He finally broke the silence that was somehow louder than the audio from the movie.
        "What?" You asked, stunned, forgetting you had just stomped all the way down stairs and right over to him and then froze, blocking his view of the movie. "Oh, uh--"
        He stood up just then, piercing blue eyes beaming into you.
        "Y'gon' tell me what the hell's got your panties all in a wad or what?" He asked impatiently. "You're freakin' me out."
        "I am?" You mumbled. "I just.."
        Oh, screw it. You're backed into a corner, now. You only have one option. As quick as you could, you tippy-toed up and pecked him on the lips. You face turned red immediately. A small, amused smile crept up at the corners of his lips.
        "All that just to kiss me?" He chuckled. "Didn't have to dress up for that."
        "What? Uh -- Oh. Well, I.." You stumbled and tripped over your thoughts. It wasn't just to kiss him, and his reaction was not what you anticipated. Where was the movie moment? The fireworks and explosions? Wasn't he supposed to grab you by the cheeks and kiss you passionately and carry you to bed? What the hell?
        "Ya what? Were ya that nervous? Thought I'd bite or somethin'?" He joked.
        Bite? Is that a sex thing?
        It was all too much. You were in way over your head. You had no idea how this was supposed to work. You felt nauseous, your face was numb, and suddenly you felt it rising from your gut to your throat. Was it vomit? Yes, but not the material kind.
`        "Rosita said we should have sex!"You blurted, eyes wide like saucers as you slapped your hand over your mouth to keep anything else from escaping.
        Word vomit.
        Daryl was stunned completely. It took him a minute to process what you had said. He blinked.
        "Rosita said what?" He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "Don't listen to that. Don't gotta do that  just 'cause she said. We can do that when ya want to, not when someone tells ya."
        He turned around and took his empty glass back to the kitchen, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. It was admittedly adorable that the thought of going to bed with him would mess you up so bad all night. 
        You were still frozen solid with your hand over your mouth as he grabbed the bottle of whisky. You dropped your hand to your side and looked around for your glass. You picked it up off the coffee table and gulped down the last half of it. Just as he was starting to pour is second serving, you spoke up.
        "I do want to."
        He paused, peering up at you through his eyelashes without actually moving his head up to show you his face. He set the bottle down and thought for a moment.
        "Uh, sex -- I mean." You clarified. Again, he tried not to laugh. There was no need for clarification. His deductive reasoning was very much adequate to handle such a statement.
        He shook his head and poured his glass before he walked back over to you.
        "Do ya now?" He asked quietly, eyeing you intensely as he took a swig. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Why did you feel so dry all of a sudden? He seemed to read your mind as he offered you a sip from his glass, which you gladly took.
        "I do." You said unsteadily, failing to feign confidence.
        "Ya sure?"
        "Why wouldn't I be?" You raised a brow, crossing your arms. He took the glass out of your hand and set it on the coffee table.
        "Ya been drinkin'."
        "I'm not drunk."
        "But it wasn't your idea to begin with." He pointed out. "Le'me ask ya.. If Rosita never said nothin', would ya even be considerin' this right now?"
        You didn't respond. He had a point.
        "Exactly." He confirmed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "We don't gotta rush into nothin' like that."
        "I've thought about it." You blurted. Blurting was quickly becoming a habit of yours, you were learning. You gulped.
        "Have ya now?" He smirked. He knew that already. Of course you did, just like he had plenty of times. You were both adults with desires. He wasn't blind to that.
        "Uh-huh." You nodded slowly. "Every time I--"
        Your hand slapped over your mouth again. What were you doing? Were you really about to admit that you fantasized about him every time you touched yourself?
        "Every time ya what?" He raised his eyebrows tauntingly. "Played with yourself? That's okay." He shrugged. "Everybody does that and if they say they don't, they're lyin'. What're you supposed to think about? Ya supposed to count the cracks in the ceilin' or somethin?"
        While he enjoyed the way you squirmed under the pressure of this conversation, he still wanted to make light of it. He joked to make it easier for you.
        "Do you think about it?" You asked quietly. His face lit up a little. It was much more amusing when the spotlight was on you. 
        "I mean," he shrugged. "What else would I think about?"
        You blushed. He thinks about you when he touches himself too?
        "I dunno.." You shrugged sheepishly. "I just..." You realized how foolish and childlike you must have looked to him right there. You straightened up and held your head high. "Well, I want to."
        "I don't think ya mean that."
        "I do." You insisted.
        He looked you over. He definitely wasn't opposed to the idea, but he was nervous. He had no idea what kind of experience a pretty girl like you would have over his drunken one nighters and failed attempts at relationships in the past. You never told him you were a virgin. After all, it never came up.
        "Okay." He nodded. "Wha'd'ya wanna do, then?"
        You faltered. What?
        "What?"
        "Wha'd'ya wanna do?" He asked again. 
        "Uh..." You glanced around the room. What did he mean? How many ways were there to... What? "I wanna... have.. sex?" You said, more as a question than a definitive. 
        "Uh-huh. But there's lots o' ways to have sex." 
        He plopped back down on the couch, glancing at the movie credits rolling behind you. He had a feeling you'd back out when you realized that you were in over your head.
        "Um, I want to..." You waded through the marshy wetland of thoughts and memories inside your head, trying to recall every piece of erotic information you had ever known. What was it Rosita had said? "Vanilla missionary?"
        He stifled a laugh. "Oh yeah? That's all?"
        Well, shit, man. What the hell else did he want from you?"
        "And..." You trailed off. 
        "Y'ain't ready for all that yet." He spoke up for you.
        "I am too!" 
        "No, y'ain't." He shook his head, still clearly amused.
        "I am! I just.... I need you to teach me." You said.
        "Teach ya what?"
        "I'm... I'm a virgin." You said just above a whisper. Wow, that was embarrassing to say out loud. He nearly choked. He was not expecting that. At least it meant you wouldn't have high expectations that he couldn't meet or something.
        "Really?" 
        "Yeah." You nodded. "But, I'm an adult and I know what I want. So, show me." You demanded.
----
        After a long battle to get him there, you finally had him in  your room. Both of you just standing there awkwardly in the dim light of a small lamp beside your bed.
        "So." You began.
        "Mm." He hummed, stepping closer to you, running a finger over your shoulder to brush  the hair off of it.
        "Do you... Wanna kiss me?" You asked. A small smile just barely spread on his lips. Of course he did. He just hoped he could make it as tender and special as you deserved.
        He leaned in slowly and brushed his lips against yours, hovering there for a moment before he connected with them fully. Slow, sweet rhythm was what he aimed for. He wasn't sure how he was doing, but when he went to pull back and you followed him like a magnet, he figured he was doing okay.
        He kissed you a little longer, hands resting gently on your sides to keep you steady as you swooned for him. If he hadn't been so sure he had to be the lead in this whole scenario, he would have melted into a puddle. Your lips were so soft, and you were just so damn sweet. He loved how eager you were for him. He just couldn't imagine taking advantage of you, which was why he made you walk in a straight line before he brought you up to your room. Just in case you had more to drink than he thought.
        When he pulled away for real this time, you were desperate for more.
        "Why'd you stop?" You pouted under your breath. He let out a soft chuckle.
        "All in time, darlin'." He said as he guided you back to the bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress and you sat down.
        "Now what?" You asked. He considered your question.
        "Lay down." He instructed softly.  You did. 
        He crawled over you. Your heart began to pound. Was this it?
        He leaned down into your neck and started planting small kisses along the length of it. You gasped quietly. It tickled in the best way. Your hands naturally gravitated to his chest, resting them against him. He trailed his lips down to your collarbone as his finger slid the spaghetti strap of your dress down over your shoulder to keep it out of the way. His kisses lined over your collarbone and all over your chest, at least the upper half. You laid your hands on his shoulders.
        He hadn't even touched you anywhere significant but your panties were absolutely soaked. Your eyelids fluttered a little. Why did this feel so good already?
        He went to tug your dress down to expose your breasts but he paused. He looked up at you. "This okay?" He whispered as his finger hooked the dress. You nodded. He slid it down and took a moment to admire the sight beneath him. You were braless. Your nipples hardened with the cold air. Goosebumps peppered over your supple flesh.
        He leaned down and went back to kissing softly around the mounds of breast, one hand gripping gently as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked. You gasped audibly at the sensation, reminding him that he was doing things right. Your hips twitched as the sensitive nerves shot tingles all the way down to your your pussy. Your walls twitched.
        He worked his way to the other nipple, earning the same reaction. He bravely nibbled ever so gently on the second one, pulling the tiniest whine right out of your throat. He smirked a little. So reactive, you were. He almost felt guilty, like he was taking some kind of innocence away from you. Something you could never get back, not that you'd want to.
        His hands slid up your outer thighs. He looked at you again for permission. You nodded. He slid the dress up over your hips and started kissing and nibbling your inner thighs. You twitched and exhaled at the more sensitive spots, and when he got as close as he could to your panties without actually touching them, he pulled back and looked up at you. You were flushed and eager, and it was killing him inside. He smirked again and placed a quick little kiss over your panties, right where he guessed your clit would be. You gasped and jerked at the sudden pressure. He hooked his finger under the waistline of your jeans, again, glancing up at you for permission. You didn't nod this time.
        "Please.." You whispered. 
        He was on top of the world. Hell, he owned the universe. You were begging him for something he had dreamt of giving you.
        He slid your panties down your thighs and over your feet, tossing them to the side somewhere. He stared down at your glistening slit. You were already dripping.
        He traced a single finger over the front of your pelvis, feeling the smooth, freshly shaved skin beneath his callous.
        "Ya didn't have to shave for me." He whispered. You blushed.
        "I just--"
        "Shh. It's okay." He cooed, gently running that same finger down your slit with painful gentleness. Your mouth gaped immediately, eyebrows pressed together. You had touched yourself plenty, but it felt so different when he did it. So new. "All this for me?" He teased, holding up his finger coated in your wetness. You blushed again. He raised his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. You watched, helplessly infatuated with the dreamy sight below. Dreamy. Were you dreaming?
        He lowered his face down, kissing softly over your lips before he finally swiped his tongue through your slit. You jerked and gasped, as you did for the next few seconds as he started to acclimate you to the sensation of his tongue.
        "Relax." She whispered. You gasped again when his tongue glided flatly over your cunt, but you let out a shaky exhale and did as he said. You relaxed. When he felt you melt down into the bed, that was when he really got to work, flicking his tongue over and around your clit until he found a rhythm that you responded to. Your breaths and inhales slowly blended into a pattern of moans and tiny whines. He had you now, exactly how he needed you. Comfortable in bliss.
        He slowed his pace then sped it up a few times, memorizing every reaction your body had to offer. When he stopped licking and started sucking on your clit, he slid a single finger inside you. If you were a virgin he was gonna have to loosen you up and get you ready. He wasn't one to gloat, but he was probably thicker than most, so he knew you'd need as much help as you could get.
        You let out a moan as his digit slid inside you. That paired with the ache in your clit as he sucked at it was giving you visions of stars.
        He got back to licking in little circles over your clit, slow at first, but then he sped up. He slipped another finger in, massaging your insides as your legs began to shake around his shoulders. 
        "Oh god."  You breathed. You felt a buzz in your lower half, a warm feeling building in your lower abdomen. You were getting close, and he could tell. He wanted to make you wait. He wanted you to be as eager for his cock as you were for his mouth. However, he wasn't entirely sure he'd last that long. You were so tight around his fingers, convulsing and pulsating, and he hadn't felt the inside of a woman in a long time.
        So, he took you all the way. He kept his pace with his tongue and fingers as he built you up, brick by brick, until you crumbled. It didn't take long at all. You shuddered and let out a loud moan, hips rocking against his face as you trembled and whined and rode out your orgasm. 
        It was more than you could have ever anticipated. Your fingers were nothing compared to what he had just done to you. You didn't think you'd ever recover.
        He slowed down, just barely gliding his tongue over your clit and twitching his fingers inside you to ensure you rode out the full length of your high, only pulling away and slipping out when he was sure you were overstimulated enough.
        Your chest was rising and dropping as you stared down at him and his wet mess of a chin. Your lids were heavy. He climbed back up to your face and planted a kiss on your forehead before he stood up off the bed and began to strip.
        Oh, right, the sex part. You had forgotten entirely. Your eyes fixated on the bulge under his boxers. They grew wide when he slid those off, too, and the sight of his bare cock hit you. It was long and thick, and you had no idea how you were going to take all that. He didn't expect you to, though. He'd try of course, but he'd be carefully monitoring for any signs of pain.
        When he climbed back on top of you, you stared up at him nervously. He leaned down and left little kisses along your jaw before finally resting his lips on yours. You ran your fingers through his hair as you kissed him back.
        "Ya still want this?" He mumbled against you.
        "Yes." You whispered. 
        He took your approval and looked down and guided his tip to your entrance. You bit your lip with anticipation when you felt the hard pressure of his head against you. He looked at you. You nodded. With that final gesture, he pushed the tip in. Your face contorted. He watched you as he pushed in a little more, and a little more, stopping when you whimpered.
        "Y'alright?"
        "Uh-huh." You squeaked.
        "Y'sure?"
        "Yeah. Keep going. I want you to." You insisted. Well, if you insisted.
        He pushed in further, achingly slow until he bottomed out. When the base of his shaft connected with your pelvis, your eyes widened. You let out a deep moan. Your own fingers could neve stretch you that way, could never reach that far inside you. It was an entirely new feeling. You couldn't tell how you liked it just yet.
        When you didn't protest, he pulled out and pumped back in, slowly at first, soft strokes, until your body relaxed and you were visibly acclimated. 
        When he was confident you could take it, that was when he sped up, fucking you harder and  faster by the minute. Your body tensed up around him. He could feel your walls clench and pulsate around his cock. He was starting to think you might cum again.
        He leaned into your ear.
        "Can ya cum again for me?"
        Your eyes glazed over, lids falling lazily over the majority of your vision. Between your moans and whimpering you managed to choke out the words; "I-- I think so.."
        "Mm." He growled lowly. You gripped his arms tightly, tuning out every thought as you pictured his cock pumping in and out of you, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you had no idea existed until that moment. A familiar warmth washed over you. Tension in your stomach built and built, until finally.
        "Yes!" You gasped, as if answering his question again.
        "C'mon, girl.." He panted. He was also terrifyingly close, teetering on the edge. He only held back in hopes he'd squeeze another orgasm out of you first.
        A high pitched whine escaped you as your body buzzed, shivers crawling over you as you came. If your sounds weren't enough, he could feel the pulsation around his cock and he knew he was almost in the clear. He clenched his jaw, trying as hard as he could to hold it back while he fucked you through your climax. Eventually he just couldn't take it anymore. 
        He pulled out as fast as he could, groaning as he stroked and milked hot cum out onto your stomach. You were breathless and sex drunk as you laid limp on the bed, watching him. When he caught his breath, he leaned down and grabbed your panties. He used them to wipe you clean of your own juices and his, before doing the same for himself.
        "Ya gon' make it?" He teased you in your incapacitated state.
        "Yep." You said lazily. "'Cause I'm gonna need  more."
        He chuckled. "I need time to--"
        "I meant tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day." 
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hyunniesgirl · 4 months
Text
Tease
Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader
Summary: tired of months of teasing, Changbin just wants to have you and he's going to do anything to make you his.
Or, the one where you were kink shamed and can't trust sexual partners anymore, until Changbin shows up and sweeps you off your feet.
Words count: 4,281
Warnings: dom!Changbin, sub!reader, throat fucking, slaps(?), degradation, oral(f & m receiving), spit, use of pet names(bunny, baby), reader is called names(whore), unprotected sex(use protection irl), let me know if I forgot something
A/N: as usual let me say that I can't write smut to save my life, but I got this idea a few weeks ago and left it in my drafts, then I received this ask and I thought it fits so yeah that's it
This content is 18+, minors do NOT interact
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The first time you had sex, was weird. You thought that maybe it was always like that, maybe you really wouldn't feel much pleasure on your first time.
Then, your second and third time came and you noticed you didn't feel the same way your friends told you they felt during sex. Even though you were attracted and even loved the people you slept with, you just didn't come, you didn't enjoy having sex.
That was, until a guy you dated slapped you, while trying to change positions. Although it was unintentional, that was the first time you ever moaned for real while having sex with another person. You two stopped for a moment, him trying to process what just happened and you coming to a realization: maybe, you were just going about sex the wrong way, maybe you didn't explore your options enough.
You began researching, reading about kinks and whatnot. You asked your boyfriend for help, you wanted to try new things and after that, sex was finally good. You finally understood what your friends were talking about when they told you about their sex lives.
However, that didn't last for long. Your boyfriend was not as nice of a guy as you thought. You found out he actually shared every bit of your kinks with his friends, calling you weird and saying he just went along with it because you were attractive enough.
He left his phone unlocked while going to the bathroom and you saw a text of his friends, making fun of you and the things you like.
It's an understatement to say you were left traumatized after that relationship. You know there's absolutely nothing wrong with what you like in bed, but to trust someone again was too hard.
You were so afraid of going through the same thing again so you just stopped dating altogether.
With that being said, you didn't stop teasing. That is the only thing you can have while still not sleeping with men, so you enjoy making them suffer. Leave them hard and hanging, that's your thrill.
They would all give up in a bit, a few weeks of teasing, without actually sleeping with them was enough for them to be done with you.
Until you met him.
You knew you wanted Changbin since the first time you laid eyes on him. He's just so attractive you think you could cum just by looking at him flexing his muscles. He's big, so big he could probably break you in half if you let him.
You don't know what is it about him. You felt attracted to other guys like him before, gym bros are not usually your type but some catch your eye once in a while. However, Changbin has something more, he's not just hot. He's funny, a great dancer and he's just so sure about his masculinity that he doesn't see it necessary to keep reiterating it all the time like other guys do.
You still decided not to sleep with him, you are part of the same friend group, so he knows everyone you do. You really don't think he's the type to brag about his feats in bed but if he ever ended up being like your ex boyfriend, you would never be able to look at your friends again.
You are not ashamed of your preferences, but at the same time it's just something so intimate you wish only you and your partner would know about it.
You thought he would give up like the others, maybe in a month he would get over it and stop trying to win you over. But you were wrong, it's been months already and you're stuck in this cat and mouse situation with no sign of him letting go.
It all started when you met the boys for the first time. Your best friend, Ryunjin, talked all the time about these guys she met at a party, how they became super close and that you'd love them.
It was Ryunjin’s birthday, so you met them at a restaurant. Your eyes scanned through all of the boys when you arrived, they were all too good looking, is it even possible for a whole friend group of seven people to all be so damn attractive?
“Wait, seven? Didn't Ryunjin say they were eight?”
You felt a hand slightly touching your back, turning around to find kind eyes staring right back at you.
“Are you going to sit, miss?” He asked.
“Y-yes”, you stuttered, trying to compose yourself.
“Why were you so late?” Ryunjin asked, you're not sure if she's speaking to you or the guy.
“Traffic was insane”, you two answered together, snapping your heads to look at each other, smiling playfully.
“I'm Changbin, by the way”, he said, pointing at the empty seat and pulling the chair for you to sit.
“I'm y/n”, you answered shyly, seeing him sitting by your side even though there were plenty of seats available closer to his friends.
As you drank a bit through the night, you caught his lingering eyes on you too many times and you're sure he caught you eyeing him up too. He made jokes, throwing his arms to the back of your chair and coming closer to you.
The amount of times you just wanted to tell him to take you home was actually crazy, no man ever made you feel that way. The warmth you felt when he got close to you was something hard to explain, you felt all your insides turning around and your pussy was throbbing just by feeling his breath hitting on your skin when he turned in your direction to speak to you.
You were able to escape that night, forcing yourself to say goodbye and walk away with all the willpower you had in you.
Things didn't stop there, though. It became usual for you to hangout with the guys. They are always so nice and cheerful, it's great being around them.
Changbin is always close to you, making jokes so he can see your beautiful smile, taking the opportunity to touch you at every chance he gets. Sometimes he'll put his hand on your lower back while walking with you, other times he'll touch your arms while talking. If you are eating together, he'll nonchalantly lick his finger and press it to the corner of your mouth to clean the mess you made on your face, like that's not the hottest shit a man can do.
He's just always there, the first one to hug you when you arrive, the one who walks you to your car or uber when the night is over. His clothes are the ones you sleep in when they invite you to a sleepover and to say you don't have wet dreams all the time, while sleeping embraced by his scent, it would be a lie.
"Why don't you just fuck him?" Ryunjin asks, while you eye fuck Changbin from the other side of the room. You're in a corner of his living room, there's music playing in the background while everyone is waiting for the food you all ordered. He's looking so good with a black tight t-shirt that outlines all his muscles and baggy sweats that do little to hide his nice ass. You're probably drooling at this point.
“You know why”, you tell her, Ryunjin knows all about your bad experiences.
“You've known him for months now, it's obvious he's not like that prick of your ex”, she says and you nod, you do know it.
“It's just hard”, you sigh. Trusting someone again over something so delicate to you is difficult.
“Yeah, I get it”, she smiles sympathetically to you. “But you know he'll reach his limit at some point, right?”
“I don't know what you're talking about”, you say, looking at her with doe eyes and an angelic smile.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about”, Ryunjin rolls her eyes, “you've been playing this teasing game for a while and he'll get sick of it at some point”
It's true that you've been enjoying yourself since you noticed his interest in you and you did what you do best, tease.
You touch him all the time, while his touches are subtle and shy, you're much more obvious about it. You play with his hair when you're sitting close to each other, a leg over his. He's so respectful, his hands never go above your knees. You shamelessly touch his biceps, squeezing them while biting on your lips, oh how you wish this man would put you in a headlock with said biceps.
Every time you touch him, he gets horny, it's a spontaneous reaction that only you could cause. It never happened to him before, he dreams about the dirty things he could do to you. You're so fragile, so beautiful, he wants to ruin you, break you so no one would ever want you, then you'd be his forever.
While you're indeed afraid he'll get sick of your antics, Changbin is sure he'll never give up. He wanted you since the first moment your eyes locked with his and he'll make you his, no matter how long it takes.
"Wait", you say too loudly as soon as WAP starts playing, "THAT'S MY JAM", you grab Ryunjin's hand, making her stand up to dance with you.
You sing along, watching some of the boys coming up to you two, dancing around and laughing at your excitement.
Turning around, you look at the kitchen, seeing Changbin leaning against the counter, watching you. He would usually join the dance, but not tonight, his eyes are fixated on you, making you feel like you two are the only people in the room.
He has only a beer in his hand, a smirk on his lips and dirty thoughts in his mind. He decides that tonight you're going to pay for all the times you left him hard just for the fun of it.
You have no idea what's in store for you, so you keep teasing him, sliding your hands down your body, rolling your hips, staring shamelessly at Changbin.
You look around for a bit, making sure no one’s looking at your little scene. It's crazy how this song just makes you feel — horny and needy for someone that will really put you in your place. You sigh, looking back at Changbin, he's still watching you, a frown on his face now. He's muttering something you obviously can't hear because of the distance but his eyes are dark like you have never seen before.
The music ends leaving you satisfied with the results. Changbin is still staring at you, or better, eyefucking you.
The food you ordered doesn't take too long to arrive, so you sit happily at the table with everyone, talking like you didn't just make him get as hard as a rock just from your dancing. He feels like he's losing his mind, you're too much for him already and he didn't even fuck you yet.
You go to the bathroom before going home, you're kinda sleepy already so you want to wash your face so you won't fall asleep in the uber.
After throwing some water on your face, you stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You're such a coward, you wish you had the courage to make a move on Changbin for real.
Sighing, you get yourself together, opening the door ready to go home and forget this whole night. You didn't expect to bump into the man you so much desire right outside, leaning on the wall with his muscular arms crossed in front of his chest.
You flinch at the look he gives you, the smile that grows on his lips is everything but friendly, so on instinct you take a step back.
“H-hey”, you say, trying to recompose yourself. “Do you want to use the bathroom?” You step outside, awkwardly, leaving room for him to go inside.
“I sent everyone home”, he takes a deep breath, walking towards you. “Now it's just you and me, I think it's time for us to talk”
“Aren't we already doing that?” You laugh, sheepishly, stepping back again only to bump in the wall.
Changbin tsks, putting his hands on your waist and pressing his body against yours.
“It's time for you to stop playing games, bunny”, he tells you, he's too close, his nose is almost touching yours. “You fucked around enough already”
You feel the air get stuck in your throat, what are you going to do now? Your mind can't think of a way to get out of this situation and you feel like if you reject him now, it's over. You don't want it to be over, you want him so badly it's crazy.
Changbin sees the opening he needs, you're considering his proposition.
“Let me make you feel good, hm? I've been wanting you for so long, let me have you”, he continues, trying to persuade you. “I promise you won't regret it”
You can feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, you want to let him do anything to you. The problem is the consequences later, but you decide to let the y/n of the future to handle that, you just want him to fuck you senseless right now.
You take a deep breath, nodding and in a split of a second his lips are on yours, hungrily attacking your poor mouth. He's being too harsh, you know he doesn't mean to hurt you and the way you can feel how much he wants this makes you more turned on.
He slides his hands from your waist to your hips, pulling you away from the wall so he can grab your ass. He squeezes it, groaning, it's so good to finally have you. Oh, the things he wants to do to you.
Changbin taps twice on your thighs, holding you tightly so you can wrap your legs around his hips. He carries you all the way to his room without disconnecting his mouth from yours, you're not sure how you didn't have to stop yet so you could breathe.
As soon as he gets closer to his bed, he bites your lower lip. He throws you on the bed, taking his shirt off. His body is so much better than you imagined, his chest looks like it was sculpted by an artist.
He climbs on the bed, leaning over you and brushing his nose on yours, softly caressing your cheek, taking your hair out of your face.
"Why did you take so long to let me have you, hm?" He leans more, kissing your collarbone and biting your shoulder, making you flinch.
"I was scared", you whisper, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin.
"Did you think I would hurt you?" He asks, worriedly, hands coming instantly to cup your face.
"No, I know you wouldn't", you sigh, "I just had some really bad experiences with other people and was scared”
He's relieved he was not the one you were afraid of, but at the same time he's angry, he wants to know who's the asshole who made you feel bad about yourself.
"I won't do anything you don't want to, bunny", he gives a peck on your lips, "let's go slowly, hm? I'll do a bit of everything and you can tell me if I should go further or slow down, alright?"
You nod, feeling one of his hands sliding slowly from your face to your scalp, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling it slightly.
"Should I keep going?" He asks in a whisper, already knowing your answer by the way your lips parted and your cheeks reddened.
"Yes, please", you plead, looking him in the eyes and seeing a smirk grow on his lips.
“Tell me, bunny, do you want me to be rough? Or do you want me to be soft?”
You stare at him for a bit, he's looking at you so intently, waiting for your answer. You never thought someone would ask you this question, ask how they could make you feel good.
“Rough”, you blush, avoiding his gaze. He grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks harshly.
"That's good”, he gives a peck on your pouting lips, “because you deserve a punishment for all the times I had to jerk off by myself thinking of you", he points out, pulling your hair harder and making you moan, leaving your neck exposed. He takes the opportunity, leaning closer and licking the bare skin, sucking and biting it hard. After making sure he marked you, Changbin sits.
"Undress", he tells you while he watches you, sitting comfortably on the bed. When you don't move, he scoffs. "Or should I rip your clothes apart? I don't mind", he smirks and you look down to your expensive new dress, you actually would like him to rip your clothes, but not this one.
So you shake your head, taking off your dress. You try covering yourself a bit, feeling too exposed. You're wearing only your panties since you didn't need a bra for that dress.
"You look so beautiful bare and ready for me", he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.
"Sit here, bunny", he says, tapping the place by his side. "Tell me, how do you think I should punish you?"
"I- I don't know"
He frowns, smiling slightly.
"Are you sure?"
"Whatever you want", you say, feeling the warmth grow in your cheeks. "You can do anything you want."
Changbin sucks in the air between his teeth, a big smile on his face.
"I like the sound of that", he chuckles, lifting his hand to your face and squeezing it, "now before we can finally start, tell me if there's anything you don't want tonight"
You take a deep breath, looking deep into his eyes.
"There's nothing, I'll tell you if I feel uncomfortable", you say confidently.
"Hm, I like it. You're so good for me, baby", he stands up, taking off his sweats and underwear, sitting back with his legs open. He's so hard and pretty, you even salivate looking at his cock.
"Get on your knees", he commands and you do just that, feeling the hardwood scratching your skin. "Come here and open your mouth for me okay? I want you to show me how sorry you are for making me wait for so long"
You nod, lifting your shaky hands to grab the base of his cock, you're not sure how much you'll be able to fit in your mouth but the simple thought of sucking him makes your excitement drip from your cunt. Changbin puts his hands on the bed, looking at you with a condescending smile, just waiting.
You lean closer, wrapping his cock with your mouth, making him groan. You lick his shaft all the way up to his leaking head, twirling with your tongue at the top.
“Fuck”, he says, bringing one of his hands to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you down. You feel the tears brimming in your eyes, your throat is burning with the assault. “Look at you, looking so pretty gagging on my cock”
You moan, feeling your core aching, your hand slides involuntarily to your clit trying to have some release. His cock hits the back of your throat once again, making the tears run through your cheeks, you try to catch your breath but he keeps fucking your mouth violently.
“Oh my”, he smiles, “are you touching yourself? Did I say you could do that?” He asks condescendingly, “I guess whores can't help themselves”
He releases your hair, finally letting you breathe.
“So you like the pain, right? I have so many things in store for you”, he gets closer.
You're too intoxicated, eyes glossy from the tears and lips swollen. Your mascara is smudged all over your face.
“Are you okay?” He asks, taking your face into his hands once more, making you look at him, “do you want to keep going?”
You nod, frantically. “Yes, please”
He smiles satisfied, pushing you on the bed. Changbin kisses your feet, trailing softly over your legs, all the way up to your thighs. He leans over, biting the inside of your thigh, earning a whimper from you. Leaning over your pussy, he doesn't waste time, eagerly sucking on your clit and licking long stripes between your folds. Your hands automatically go to his head, pulling him closer to your core.
He inserts a finger inside you, looking up to see your beautiful face contorted in pleasure while he works with his fingers and tongue. You had forgotten how it felt to have a good fuck, how delicious the pain is. You're clenching around his fingers, so Changbin knows you're almost cumming, that's when he stops.
“What the hell?” You whine, trying to touch your clit with your hand so you can finish it yourself but he doesn't let you, grabbing your face harshly, squeezing your cheeks.
“You should take what I give you”, he says, “Open your mouth”, he commands, spitting inside, “now, swallow”
You feel all your insides turn around, you could cum just by the hold he has on you. Your pussy is throbbing so much it hurts, but it's so good.
“Binnie, please”, you whine, ready to beg for him to fuck you.
“Hm? Tell me what you want, bunny”
“Please fuck me, please, please”, you beg.
“If you ask this nicely I can't deny”, he smirks, climbing on top of you. He's huge, strong arms on each of your sides, trying not to put too much weight over you. He pulls you by your ankles, positioning himself in the middle of your legs.
You try grabbing his cock so you can put it in already, you're too desperate but he swings a slap on your ass, making you whimper to the pain, you were not expecting that.
“I told you to take what I give you, bunny”
He slides his cock up and down on your wet folds, feeling like he could die at any moment by feeling your warmth embracing his cock.
“Put it in, Binnie”, you plead again, desperate to feel him inside you.
“Fuck, babe, you're so fucking pretty”, he tells you while teasing, “but do you deserve it? You made a fool out of me all this months”
You feel your eyes brim with tears again, feeling the little bit of stimulation he's giving you by slightly touching the head of his cock to your clit.
“I'm sorry, I'm really sorry”, you sob, “it wasn't just you. I went back home every time and fucked myself thinking about you”
“Shit”, he groans, sliding his cock inside you with no warning, you scream to the sudden intrusion in your sensitive cunt but it gets stuck in your throat while you sob. “Tell me everything you want me to do, yeah?”
He's thrusting violently into you, gripping your hips into place so he can have you exactly where he wants you to be.
“I want you to fucking break me”, you tell him, “choke me, bite me, do anything, I'm yours”
Changbin slams into you even harder listening to those words, he slides his hand up, wrapping it around your throat. He tightens the grip, cutting the air off.
“My beautiful princess wants me to fuck her senseless?” You feel your orgasm closer, the sensations you're feeling all over your body makes it feel like you're in a haze, completely lost in pleasure. The knot in your stomach grows so big, it feels like it explodes, making you shake and arch your back, feeling overwhelmed by all the pleasure.
Changbin keeps going hard, feeling you clench around him just makes him get closer to his own climax. He takes his hand out of your throat, holding your hips for support.
“Do it inside”, you whisper out of breath, feeling his cock twitching inside you. He cums a few moments later, feeling your pussy sucking all of him.
He collapses on top of you, supporting himself in his arms, not wanting to weigh on you but still wanting to stay inside of you. You help him by wrapping your arms around his waist and flipping you two, now you are the one on top of him and his cock is still buried inside you.
You lay on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, not sure what to say now. You're afraid he'll judge you, even though it looked like he enjoyed the same as you, your ex boyfriend seemed to like it too. What if this was just a one time thing for him? You're not sure if you'll be able to be with other people after this night.
As if he can hear your intrusive thoughts, Changbin wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.
“Should I call you my girlfriend now or should we go on a date first?”
You snap your head over at him, wide eyes and a big smile on your lips.
“I think you'll have to do much more to be able to call me your girlfriend”, you smile playfully.
“Oh? My bunny is so greedy”, he gives a peck on your lips, “I can get used to that”
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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.
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Let me just say, I absolutely adore your writing so much!! Your More Than Anything series with Vox is honestly one of, if not my favorite Vox series!!!❤💙 I was wondering if you could do a kind of silly, fluffy imagine with Vox where they're in their early stages of flirting/crushing and the reader avoids the topic of kissing... because they think Vox isn't able to kiss with his screen? Literally before episode 8, the question in my mind was "Can the dorky TV man kiss?" And then we got confirmation he most DEFINITELY could 🤣 I just think it'd be so cute and funny for that to be something the reader was wondering as well but wasn't sure how to ask him about it without being weird lol
Oh my goodness, such high praise aaaa! I actually have a scene in my Ao3 fic based on the same concept! I'd be happy to write some awkward smoochums! This guy is such a fucking dork and I love him.
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Assumptions [Vox x Reader Fluff]
You and Vox had been dating for a month and the overlord was on the verge of insanity. He knew that Valentino had much more intense needs when it came to physical affection than most, but he wasn't expecting such a drastic shift in needs when it came to you.
He knew that being in a real relationship was very different from what he'd experienced before with his fellow overlord. But he thought the two of you would have done something by now. Not even necessarily sex. (Although he'd definitely been fantasizing about that more than he cared to admit.)
The two of you had cuddled, slept in the same bed, and even h*ld h*nds, but you hadn't kissed yet and it wasn't for his lack of trying. He'd invited you on romantic dates and set up several perfect opportunities. But whenever he'd try to go for it, you'd always pull away before he had the chance.
He didn't understand. The two of you had been doing so well. You always seemed to be swept up in the little heated moments just as much as he was, so why?!
Vox had been completely distracted during his entire news segment and groaned as slipped into his secluded dressing room. If it wasn't for the fact that he caught sight of you in his mirror, he probably would have flipped out when he felt your arms slip around him from behind.
"What are you doing here?" he chuckled as he lifted a hand to rest on one of your arms.
"I missed you," you smile, squeezing him gently before letting go. "And I saw that..." you cringe. "Performance. You seemed off. Is something on your mind?"
Vox's eyes widened and he cursed himself mentally for putting on a subpar show in front of the camera. If you noticed, then the audience probably did as well. No one really gave half a fuck about the news, but ratings were ratings.
"It's nothing," Vox muttered. "It's just..."
He looks up at you with an unreadable expression and you gasp as he reaches up and gently takes hold of your chin. His brow furrows as he tucks your hair behind your ear and your heart races a million miles per second as he searches your blushing face for something. His eyes flick down to your lips and he slowly starts to lean, only for you to suddenly push him away.
"A-Anyways I just wanted to check in on you and see if we were still on for a movie tonight," you stammered.
Vox froze, not listening to your ramblings as he processed your deflection. He felt a sharp, cold sting of rejection in his chest and wondered if maybe you weren't as interested in the relationship as he hoped. His heart started to break, but then he noticed the way you were blushing.
"Why?" He asked quietly.
"Well, I just thought maybe you wanted to-"
"No," Vox grit his teeth as he grabbed you by the shoulders. "Why the fuck won't you kiss me? Every time I try, you pull away. We're dating, so why?"
You blinked up at him owlishly, your jaw hanging open before you grabbed his arms and breathed, "You can kiss?!"
Vox's brow furrowed as he looked you over, "Wh- The fuck are you on about? Yes, I can fucking kiss! I've been trying to kiss you for the past three goddamn weeks!"
You gasped before burying your face in your hands and groaning. "Oh my god, I thought... There were a couple times that I wondered, but this whole time I didn't think you could and I didn't want to be weird and..."
Vox stood taller as he processed your words. You didn't hate him. You weren't repulsed by him. You were just...
He burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he absolutely lost it. "O-Oh my god! You're such a fucking idiot!"
Your face was burning with embarrassment. You knew he wasn't being malicious, but you were still mortified at the misunderstanding. "Oh shut up! It's not my fault you're a flat-faced fucker!"
You were about to go bury your shame into the couch, fully expecting him to hold this against you for the rest of the day, but you were barely able to take two steps before Vox intervened.
You let out a startled yelp as you felt his claws wrap around your arm and yank you back. In the split second it took you to blink, he'd trapped you against a wall. You flinched as his hands slammed against either side of your head, trapping you as he grinned down at you.
"You are so fucking stupid," he snickered.
Your face only grew warmer as your heart pounded with mixed anger, embarrassment, and something else entirely due to the position he had you in. His hand traces lightly over your cheek before cupping the side of your face as he looks at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen from him.
You gasp as he leans down and presses his lips against yours. Your entire body feels like tiny fireworks are dancing lightly over your skin. You shiver as your hands instinctively reach up to grasp at his vest when he pulls you close.
You're both breathing much harder than is necessary when he pulls away. For a moment you just look at each other with half-lidded gazes as you process the sparks that just metaphorically and literally flew. You were pretty sure a bulb went out due to the little bits of blue energy that sparked off of your boyfriend during the kiss.
Speaking of your dork, Vox breathlessly grinned as he squeezed your arms. He let out a small laugh before stepping away from you and turning as more little sparks flew.
"Fucking finallyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Vox yelled as he pumped his arms in the air and kicked his legs like a giddy child.
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cupid-styles · 5 months
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silk and rope 3
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the final part of ddlg harry and little/submissive y/n!!!!
in which harry is a dummy, y/n gets a little too drunk, and thanksgiving is finally good for something.
word count: 8k
content warnings: daddy dom and little/submissive relationship, alcohol, a little bit of angst, SMUT!!! (anal play, squirting, dirty talk, breeding kink, public sub drop, public play if you squint, dumbification, tiny bit of pet play.. if I missed something pls lmk lol). as stated in the first two parts, I tried to make this as accurate as possible but there are likely some things that aren't correct!! im just a girl and im sorry if something isn't portrayed right!!!!!!
thank you for reading and loving these two, while this is the last formal part of their story I will definitely be writing check-ins and blurbs for them in the future!!! enjoy :)
masterlist | talk to me
part one | part two
. . .
It doesn't take Y/N very long to realize Harry's acting weird.
Well, maybe not weird, but different. He's acting differently than he has been for the past two months, and it's giving her a bit of whiplash. She notices that it started the day after she slipped when he dropped her off at home, when he latched a collar around her neck. 
Her memory of that day is a little bit hazy; the events are more so glued together in blurry snapshots of pleasure and lust, but she does know that she had fallen into her little space while he was gone. He'd punished her for the whole butt plug incident, fucked her into oblivion, and then soaked in the tub with her before falling asleep next to her.
And really, it wasn't that different from their usual scenes. The dynamic was the same, as far as Y/N can remember, it may have just been a little bit more intense.
So why is Harry acting like this?
Instead of stopping by nearly every day to make sure she's eaten and rested, he'll just text her. If she hasn't eaten lunch or dinner yet, he'll order her food to her house instead of bringing her a homemade meal or stopping somewhere on the way. When he does come over, it seems like he's always in a hurry to leave — yesterday, he picked her up from a closing shift at the bakery and barely spoke to her in the car. He came inside, quickly cooked her a dinner, and left before she'd even finished eating, mumbling out some excuse about having to feed his sister's cat.
Worst of all, they haven't slept together in a week.
It's all overwhelming for Y/N, but this time, it's in the worst way possible. She feels incredibly down as the days go on, and she spirals and wonders what she did wrong to make him act this way. She can feel the breakup coming from a mile away, but she assumes that because it's Harry, he'll bake her a cake and buy her a kitten just because he doesn't want to be too mean about it.
She hates to admit it, but she's grown attached to Harry. And she really, really doesn't want to let him go.
It's what led her to asking Naomi to grab lunch on her day off. Naomi hasn't reached out too much lately so it's been awhile since they'd seen one another, but she's known Harry far longer than she has. 
(And yeah, Y/N feels kind of shitty about making plans with Naomi only to ask about Harry, but she has a nagging feeling that she's only kept her around because she feels bad she doesn't have friends outside of them.)
"I'm sorry, you and Harry are what?"
(She supposes she should have expected this type of response.)
"We're sleeping together," Y/N answers in a pathetic attempt to sound casual, keeping her eyes glued to the turkey sandwich on her plate, "But he's been acting kind of off lately, and I wasn't sure if you guys knew something I didn't."
"Well no one knew that," Naomi mutters, stabbing her fork into her salad and stuffing some lettuce into her mouth. "But to address your concerns, no, I don't know anything. Harry's notoriously private about his love life."
She clears her throat and nods. "I think he's gonna end things soon."
"Hmm, yeah," Naomi hums through a mouthful of food, "I don't think he does the whole friends with benefits thing. Lea tried once and he rejected her, it was kind of a mess. She couldn't stand to be in a room with him for like, two months."
"We're not sleeping with other people," Y/N quickly adds. "It's sort of an exclusive arrangement."
Still, Naomi shrugs her shoulders, and it doesn't soothe any of Y/N's worries.
"He may have told you that, but I honestly doubt it, babe. I'm sorry he broke your heart. He can be kind of an asshole in that way."
If anything, Y/N feels even worse now. The gears in her brain are turning too fast and she's starting to feel nauseous, putting the puzzle pieces together and envisioning what her life will be like without Harry after she's gotten so used to him taking care of her.
"Anyway, Bria is having a party this weekend," Naomi says, breaking her out of his spiraling thoughts, "You should come. It'll get your mind off things and you can find someone new to fuck."
She winces at her crude terminology, not because she's offended by it but because she thinks what she and Harry are doing is more than just fucking.
Aren't they?
Forcing down a sip of her Diet Coke, Y/N nods. "Yeah, I'll be there."
. . .
From: H
Can I come over tonight?
Y/N bites her lip as she reads Harry's text for the fourth time. Since getting home from lunch with Naomi, she's been stewing in a series of emotions: First, sadness, followed by frustration and anger, then sadness again, then acceptance. She's managed to occupy herself with some re-runs of Jeopardy, even if it reminds her of him.
She doesn't know what the right thing to do is. What if he wants to come over because he's ready to end things? She supposes she's just putting off the inevitable, but she's been broken up with enough times and she knows how much more painful this one will be. She's not prepared for that, even if she wants to be.
Sighing, she finally makes a decision, tapping her thumbs quickly against the screen.
Y/N: hey sorry i can't do tonight. think im coming down w something, i don't feel that well
H: Do you need anything? I can bring soup and medicine, whatever you need.
Y/N: no im ok, thank you tho
H: Let me know if you think of anything.
H: Maybe later this week if you're feeling better?
Y/N: yea maybe
Tears are already clouding her vision as she locks her phone and tosses it across her couch. Desperately, she wonders why the guy she's fallen for just can't like her back.
. . .
Harry knows he's fucking up.
He wants to smack himself across the face and tell himself to pull it together, but he can't. Every single cell and bone in his body is begging him to go over to Y/N's house and make it all better, and instead, he just sits on the couch, replaying those words over in his brain. Her swollen parted lips and eyes fluttered closed, the way it sounded so effortless falling from her mouth. I love you. 
He wanted to say it back. But that wasn't part of the arrangement.
She wanted someone to dominate her, to take care of her. Who would be if he took advantage of something she said after nearly two hours of play, when she'd been in her little space all day? It wasn't something he felt morally right about, but he knows he wasn't being any better. He couldn't hold himself to high standards when he was pushing her away.
It's why he's so down and out on Saturday night. Normally, he'd be snuggled up with Y/N, watching some movie or TV show, usually after or before an intense scene. Sometimes it served as a precursor to foreplay with the way he'd stroke over her thighs and play with her hair, watching as she became increasingly restless. Other times, it's what they did to unwind, a form of aftercare for both parties.
But tonight, he's not doing that. He's at home alone, confused, because Bria just texted him that she's having a party tonight and everyone's there — including Y/N.
He doesn't like that she singles her out like that. He knows that some of the girls in the group don't particularly like her because she's quiet and shy and rather reserved about her personal life. (He understands why she's that way now.) He doesn't even think Naomi is a good friend to her, but he would never go out of his way to tell her that — ultimately, she's capable of making her own decisions. However, she'd sent him some excuse about not being able to hang out a few days ago, claiming that she was sick and yet, tonight she was at a party?
Harry couldn't live with that.
So he fires off a text to Bria, telling her that he'll be there soon, dressing quickly and throwing himself together. When he's driving over to Bria's place, he makes a mental promise to himself, pledging that as long as Y/N doesn't hate him, he won't return home without her.
. . . 
Y/N is drunk, and she hates being drunk.
The last time she consumed a fraction of this amount of alcohol was the night she spilled her guts to Harry. Tonight, she's downed every shot that's been passed her way. She's not sure what she's looking to achieve — she doesn't want to go home with anyway and the only person she really wants to be with is Harry — and it makes her sad. So, so helplessly sad.
Despite being deep underwater, Y/N is cognizant enough to know that no one at this party really cares for her wellbeing. They were eager to get her drunk, but once she started swaying on her feet with hazy eyes, they stopped caring. Games of beer pong and flip cup were ongoing as she sat in the kitchen, propped up on the counter with her head against the cabinets. 
She feels so stupid, it makes her want to cry.
. . .
Harry attempts to play it cool when he arrives at Bria's house.
Everyone welcomes him, excited that he made it, but they have no idea that his presence has nothing to do with wanting to party. He's here for the girl who begs him to snap a collar around her neck and push a plug into her ass. The girl he happens to be very in love with.
Naomi bats her eyelashes at him and hands him a glass of wine; an attempt to schmooze him when she tells him she picked out this bottle just for him. He smiles politely. 
"Have you seen Y/N? Bria mentioned she was here."
Naomi's eyebrows raise, a defensive look crossing onto her face. "Why are you looking for her?"
"We just need to talk about something," he replies dismissively, uninterested in revealing any details to her, "So, is she here? Or did she leave already?"
She crosses her arms over her chest. "She got pretty fucked up when she got here. She's kind of a mess, y'know? I don't even know if she's here or not."
"What do you mean?" Harry asks, concern and worry bubbling in his stomach, "She doesn't like to drink."
"Well, she sure liked all the shots everyone was giving her."
He closes his hands into tight fists, stunned at how careless these people could be. He couldn't believe he considered them friends at a certain point.
"Where did you see her last?" he eventually questions, pushing past the anger growing in his chest.
Naomi thinks for a moment. "I think Ren may have passed her in the kitchen. Not sure, though."
She's apparently finished with this conversation, clearly annoyed that she didn't get what she wants (Harry knows she's been trying to recreate that one night they made out years ago, but he's never been especially interested). He huffs and pushes past everyone else standing around in the living room, ignoring anyone who tries to start a conversation. When he walks into the kitchen, his eyes immediately find her defeated posture, her shoulders slumped over with eyes half-shut. 
"Y/N," he says, rushing over to her. He's not sure if she's even conscious, so he gently pats at her cheek. "Baby, are you alright?"
Her eyes flutter open, a look of confusion immediately taking over. "Harry?"
"Are you okay, Y/N? What happened?"
"Nothing," she mumbles through red-stained lips, "Why're you here?"
She's slurring her words and he swallows harshly, taking in her rough composure. She looks so tired and it breaks his heart to think that he could have caused this.
"Heard you were here and I wanted to make sure you were okay." he murmurs out, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, "Are you having a fun time?"
He already knows the answer when she shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowed. "No. Hate being drunk."
"I know, baby," Harry coos, "Would you be okay with me taking you home? Get you all cozy in your bed?"
If she's angry with him, her level of drunkenness has made her forget about those feelings because she nods, making grabby hands at him. He chuckles and helps her down from the countertop, immediately wrapping a supportive arm around her waist.
"My car's just parked outside. Do you think you can make it there?"
"Mhm."
With a gentle smile on his lips, he tugs her out of the kitchen and guides her to the front door. He can feel eyes on them and he assumes Naomi is likely leading the pack, but he doesn't care. Frankly, he's fine if this is the last time he sees most of these people — he doesn't think he wants to continue friendships with anyone who'd want to hurt Y/N.
She's quiet as he helps her into the car, buckling her seatbelt for her and closing the passenger side door once she's safe. He's quick to do the same for himself, churning the ignition and flicking the heat on to shield her from the chilly autumn air.
"Do you feel sick at all?" Harry asks as he pulls out of his parking spot. She shakes her head. "Okay, lemme know if that changes, lovebug."
They don't exchange any more words on the way to Y/N's place. Once he's parked, he turns to look over, only to find her slumped in her seat with closed eyes, steady puffs of air coming from her nose. His heart twitches — he wishes they were coming home from a date or something romantic, but he's reminded quite quickly of her drunken state.
He leaves her in the car for a moment to use his spare key to unlock her front door. When he returns, he gently scoops her body up and out of the car. Her eyes flicker open and he hushes her, kicking the door closed. 
"Can walk," she mutters out, and he nods, letting her down once they're safely in her home.
"I didn't wanna wake you up, that's all."
Y/N shrugs and kicks her shoes off, though she loses her balance and sways, Harry quickly coming to her side to steady her by the elbow.
"Are you breaking up with me?"
He looks down at the doe-eyed girl in front of him, sniffling as the words float from her lips. His stomach flutters with anxiety as he watches her eyes get watery, immediately using his thumb to wipe away the moisture from spilling over.
"Why would you ask that?" he murmurs, placing a hand to her hip.
"You don't like me," Y/N answers matter-of-factly. "And you've been avoiding me."
He sighs. He knows this isn't the right time to talk things through, especially because she's only saying these things given her swimming mindset. He hates that her mind even floated to such places, but if he's being honest, he isn't surprised — he thinks he would assume similarly if their roles were swapped.
"Can we talk about this in the morning?" Harry asks softly.
She shrugs her shoulders, letting her gaze fall to her feet. "You can just do it now. I don't wanna remember anything you have to say if that's the case."
"Y/N, stop it," he says with a shake of his head, attempting to guide her up the stairs. He's slightly impressed that despite her wobbly legs, she stays put. "I'm not ending things."
"Why wouldn't you?" she fires back, looking back up at him with a defiant look in her eyes, "You promised me you'd take care of me and— and for the past week or so, you've done anything but. You've just stressed me out and made me feel bad."
Harry swallows as guilt begins to crawl its way back up his spine. He knows she's right. She has every right to be upset. 
"I know," he mumbles, nodding his head, "I know. I haven't been a good dominant. I'm sorry."
"That's a shit excuse. I've heard that so many times before from guys who didn't treat me right from the start. You're different, Harry."
"Y/N..." he's getting frustrated now, disgruntled by how stubborn she apparently gets when she's drunk, "You're right about everything, but this isn't the time to talk this through. I want to do it when you're sober."
She rolls her eyes and if things were normal, Harry knows he would've grabbed her by the hips and leaned her over the steps to spank her. Instead, he lets out a breath and nudges her in the direction of her bedroom. 
"C'mon, let's get you to bed."
Y/N's protests cease after that and Harry's secretly grateful for it. She's sobered up enough to take her makeup off and change into her pajamas as he fetches her a glass of water and some Advil to take. He places them on her nightstand as she crawls into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
"Your apartment's still freezing," he murmurs, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "I'll call a repair guy tomorrow."
"Are you staying then?" she asks softly, letting her eyes close the second she smushes her cheek into the pillow.
"I will if you'd like me to."
"Okay," she mumbles, "I hope you don't break up with me tomorrow."
He lets out what feels like the thousandth sigh that evening. "Stop saying that. I'm not going to."
Y/N simply shrugs.
. . .
The next morning, Y/N wakes up with a throbbing headache. Before she even opens her eyes, she can feel embarrassment warming every cell of her body, but she can't place a finger on why. She knows something happened last night but things get a little... blurry at a certain point; her last solid memory taking shots with Naomi and Lea. From there, she has a small inkling of what happened, mainly just recalling her sitting in the kitchen by herself when she started feeling woozy and tired.
When she finally blinks her mascara-crusted eyes open (she thought she took her makeup off last night, but maybe she did a shit job of it), she nearly jumps when she realizes there's someone laying next to her.
That someone being Harry. 
He has his reading glasses on and he's scrolling on his phone. Through squinted eyes, she reads the words heat repair guy best ratings in his Google search. When he realizes that she's awake, he locks his phone and clears his throat.
"Hey," he says, licking his lips, "How are you feeling?"
"Confused," she croaks out, lifting her head slightly to look up at him, only to be met with a pounding ache in her temples. 
"Here, be careful," he mumbles, leaning over to his side to grab something from the nightstand. He hands here two pieces of toast and two Advil. "You should eat this before you take anything. You were pretty wasted last night, I figured your hangover would be rough."
She hums in appreciation and takes a bite of the toast, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "What are you doing here?"
He's not surprised that the details are hazy for her, so he flips onto his side to face her. "Bria told me about the party and mentioned you were there. I wanted to see you so I went, but you were, um, drunk and... by yourself. I took you home, that's all."
"Hm," Y/N nods, "Yeah, I remember getting drunk with everyone. I don't remember you being there except for us arguing here."
"We didn't really argue. You were just being... stubborn."
"About what?"
Harry sighs. "You wanted to talk about the state of our relationship and were convinced I was going to break up with you."
A beat. And then, "Oh."
"That was never my plan, by the way," he replies, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers, "I was never going to end things."
She shrugs her shoulders and places her empty plate on the floor, tossing back the Advil. 
"I know I haven't been the best to you lately. I've been having a hard time trying to figure out how to approach things."
"Approach what?" she bites, laying back down. "I— all I know is that one day things were fine, and the next they weren't. You weren't being the same and I didn't know what I did wrong."
"You didn't do anything wrong," he shakes his head, "Just... you said something. When you were in your little space."
"I say a lot of things when I'm in my little space."
"Yeah, but this was... like, different."
"How, different?"
"More serious, I guess."
"Harry," she huffs, fisting the comforter in her hands, "I can't guess something I said when I wasn't being myself."
"You told you love me."
Y/N's head whips to the side and she immediately winces, shutting her eyes. He cringes and reaches out to touch her temples, gently applying a bit of pressure and rubbing them. It's silent for a moment as he massages her head.
"I'm sorry," she eventually mumbles, "You were probably freaked out. I'm sure I didn't mean to say it."
"Don't be sorry. I would never hold your emotions against you."
Still, she wants to hide her face in the blankets. She's embarrassed, that much is obvious. She doesn't even know if she actually loves Harry; a lot things come out when she's in her little space, some of which she means and some of which she doesn't. She supposes it's fair that he seems so freaked over it.
"I wish you told me sooner. I could've... explained myself. Maybe."
"Explained yourself?"
Y/N shrugs and lays back against the pillows. Harry follows her lead, tilting his neck so he can look at her.
"I can't say for certain that I love you or not, I've never been in love," she explains quietly, feeling her cheeks warm at the unexpected vulnerability spilling out of her, "Don't you think you could say things when you're dominating me that you don't necessarily mean? You degrade me sometimes and I know those things aren't true."
Harry thinks for a moment, pinching his lip between his fingers. "I guess, yeah."
"I would tell if you if I knew for sure, Harry. But I don't."
He nods and rolls onto his back. He doesn't know why but he feels... sad? Let down, maybe? He'd been under the impression that she loved him and, well... maybe he was okay with that.
"I'm sorry." she repeats softly. He shakes his head and reaches out for her hand, grasping it gently and giving it a small squeeze.
"Don't be. It was stupid. I overreacted."
"Thank you for rescuing me last night," Y/N murmurs, squeezing his hand back.
He pushes down the feelings of disappointment and forces a small smile on his lips. 
"Anytime."
. . .
Harry tries to go back to normal after that. 
He stops being so avoidant, which makes a big difference. He and Y/N are back to their near-daily hangouts, and it's easy to fall back into the routine they established before any of this happened. They're even having sex again, with Y/N readily falling into her little space every time he ties her to the bed, overstimulates her until she's crying, and fucks her open with his cock until he comes deep inside her. They never use condoms anymore, either, and the added layer of intimacy only contributes to what Harry realize shortly after that morning in Y/N's bed: he's in love with her.
He guesses he's known it for awhile, he just didn't want to admit it to himself. But when she explained why she said it, he felt so bummed that it only made sense. He'd wanted her to love him.
But Y/N is Y/N, shy and oblivious and rarely the first to bring up her feelings, so he leaves it at that. He can't think of a worse fate than them actually ending things for good this time, so he keeps his emotions to himself, locked up tight for no one to ever know.
This is a good method, he decides.
Until they're in Y/N's favorite bookshop, perusing through the section titled "BookTok" (he doesn't know what that means, but she clearly does since she has a stack of four books in her hand) and he sees it. 
The familiar moony-eyed gaze, batted eyelashes, spit swollen lips. Tugging at his hand, latching onto his arm every second she can, when the word falls from her lips.
"Daddy."
He looks down with wide eyes. She never calls him that when they're in public, but now she's blinking owlishly, nibbling on the fingernails of the hand that isn't attached to Harry's arm.
"Are you alright, baby?" he asks quietly, brushing a piece of her hair out of her eyes.
"Mhm," she nods, grinning up at him, "Feeling little. 's that okay?" 
He smiles gently, loving this side of her, but concerned that it's happening when they're out and about. He's never experienced a sudden sub drop before, but he knows that he doesn't want to make her feel unwanted, as if she's doing anything wrong.
"Of course, bunny," he murmurs. "Can daddy take you home, then?"
"Yes, please. Startin' to ache."
With raised eyebrows, he nods quickly, lightly tugging her head in the direction of the register. He buys her books for her, grateful that she's decided to occupy herself with the sticker display before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to his car. He buckles her in to make sure she's safe, her books piled neatly in her lap, and gets in on the other side.
She's quiet as she flips through one of her new novels while Harry periodically glances over at her to make sure she's doing alright. It's only when she starts squirming in her seat that he puts a hand over her thigh, squeezing gently. 
"We'll be home soon, baby. Just hang in there for me."
"Hurts," she pouts, and Harry's heart jumps, "Please— can I— will you?"
He swallows, quickly looking over as she wiggles around. In any other situation, he'd say no — they have a pretty firm no-touching-herself rule when he's not there, but he's never seen her drop into her little space so suddenly before. Hesitantly, he nods, stopped at a red light as he reaches up to pluck at the waistband of her leggings. 
"Does my baby just need to cum?" he asks as she quickly shimmies the material down. 
"Need you to touch me." she whines, hooking her thumbs under her panties and sliding them to the middle of her thighs.
"Okay, okay," he murmurs. The light turns green and he presses on the gas, moving his hand up to hover over her core. Even with the distance between them, he can see how much she's glistening. "Did you make a mess for daddy? Just walking around, having a nice day, and your little pussy got all wet for me?"
"Yes," she gasps, spreading her pussy lips with his fingers.
He begins to thumb at her clit, pressing small circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. She's already whimpering in her seat, eyes falling closed as she wraps her own hand around his wrist, pulling him closer. 
"F-feels so good," Y/N mewls, grinding her hips down in time with his hand.
"Such a good girl for daddy," he tries to ignore the straining in his pants as her arousal readily coats his fingers just from a few swirls around her clit. "Cum for me whenever you're ready, bunny. Show me how good you are."
Thankfully, he's turning onto his street as the knot in her core unravels, breathy whimpers and broken calls of his honorific a clear indicator that she's reached her peak. He groans as he feels her pussy contracting, back arched against the leather of the seat. 
"Fuck," he mutters, pulling into the driveway, "You're so fucking beautiful." 
She barely has a second to breathe before he throws the car in park and unbuckles her seatbelt. He grabs her face between his hands and smushes their lips together, a surprised squeak sounding from her mouth. 
"D-daddy," she gasps, her lips curling into a smile as he squeezes her hip. 
"My good girl, yeah?" he grins, breaking apart to press their foreheads to one another. "You make daddy so happy."
Y/N giggles. She's still in her floaty headspace but with one orgasm in, it's less desperate and more bubbly. A reminder of how much she adores Harry, even with the rose-tinted glasses of her little space. 
"Need more," Y/N breathes, leaning back in to peck his lips, "Please? Want your cock, want you to— to cum deep inside me."
"I know, bunny." he coos, ignoring the way his length twitches in his pants at her needy tone. He reaches up to press a kiss to her forehead. "C'mon, let's go inside. Wanna take you properly."
As soon as she nods, Harry clamors out of the car and winds around to the other side to open the door for her. With her pile of books in her hand and her flushed cheeks, evident of a recent orgasm, he intertwines their fingers together and helps her to the front door, quickly unlocking it. 
Harry's no psychiatrist or expert on the manner, but one of the most interesting parts of Y/N being in her little space is that she doesn't even necessarily realize what she's doing. They've spoken about it before and she's revealed that there have times where she's been so deep under, she doesn't have all of her memories. It's a scary thought, but in a stroke of complete and utter honesty, she's explained to him that she trusts him implicitly — to take care of her when her brain is fuzzy, to never take advantage of her or push her beyond her limits. 
Truthfully, Harry should've known then that he was in love with her.
And when she waltzes into his apartment, placing her books on the entryway table like she lives here, he's immediately wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, until her back is pressed up against his chest. She giggles out his honorific and it makes him smile into her hair — god, he loves her so much it might make him sick — before he mumbles out instructions to go upstairs to get undressed for him.
As always, she does as she's asked, ever keen on pleasing him. He gives her a moment as he stands at the bottom of the stairs, taking a deep breath and running his hand over his face. He's never felt so gone over a girl before, and he's managed to keep it together with Y/N this far — but seeing the way she slipped today and knowing it's just another way of showcasing how deeply she trusts their relationship... it's almost too much.
When he does go upstairs, he's instantly reminded of how uncomfortably hard he is. His eyes wander over her naked body, sprawled out across his bed, her feet flat on the bedding with her legs arched at the knee. She's being good — there have been times where he's found her already toying with her clit or sinking the tip of her finger in, but her hands are at her sides today.
"Good girl," Harry murmurs out as he undoes his belt, the leather falling to the floor. "Tell daddy what you want."
She hums, likely unused to getting a say in the foreplay of their scenes. He realizes that she may not know how to answer, so he attempts to help her along.
"Do you wanna be plugged in your bum? Tied up? Edged?" he asks, clad only in his briefs as he places a knee on the bed and wraps a hand around her ankle. "Tell me why daddy's girl needs."
"Want a plug, please," she says softly, allowing him to stretch her legs out, "Just... just wanna be filled."
"Filled, hm?" he teases lightly, reaching under the bed to rifle through the small box of sex toys. She had a bit of a collection of plugs at home, so she'd brought over a few to keep at his place a month or so back (that had been an interesting day, when he thought she had books or extra clothes in her tote bag only to be met with toys). He pulls out the smallest one since, if he's being honest, the need to be inside her is overwhelming, and he doesn't know how long he can play with her ass before he loses his mind.
"Flip onto your tummy, angel girl." he instructs as he pulls his tee and sweatshirt off. She silently does as she's told, pressing her cheek into one of Harry's pillows. She's instantly flooded with scents of his shampoo and cologne, woody and musky and intensely comforting, and it makes her squeeze her thighs together. 
Everything about him makes her warm and gooey inside, as if she's coming to the one place — or person — that always feels like home, no matter how awful of a day she's had. Akin to struggling through a snowstorm, the chill pinging through her body and down to her bones; when she's with Harry, it's like being served her favorite bowl of warm soup and being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket fresh out of the dryer.
Harry is her home.
She's floating through this revelation when he pushes her ass cheeks apart, a soft gasp sounding from her mouth when he runs a lubed fingertip around the ring of muscles. 
"Such a pretty hole," he murmurs, and she whimpers when she feels him spit, the saliva landing on her asshole, "Love filling you up, you know that? Every last one of these gorgeous holes."
She moans when he fits his finger inside, pushing it all the way to the knuckle. He knows she's experienced with anal so he doesn't feel like he has to be as precious about the process, knowing that she adores the sensation.
"Too bad daddy'll never share you with anyone though. No one will ever get to see how your ass and pussy squeeze around me... that's just for daddy, isn't it?"
Y/N muffles through a moan and he tuts as he pushes a second finger in. 
"That's not an answer, bunny. Try again."
She shutters out a sigh and slowly blinks her eyes open, trying her to best not to be overwhelmed by him stretching her out. 
"'s just for you, daddy."
"What is, angel?"
"My holes, daddy."
"Good girl," he mumbles, withdrawing his fingers. His cock twitches as he watches her ass gape ever so slightly, the loss of anything inside instantly making her feel empty. It's quickly over, though, because he's rubbing the tip of the lubed plug over her hole. "Deep breath, sweetheart, you know the drill."
Despite doing this numerous times, the stretch never quite gets old for Y/N. (Admittedly, Harry never tires of the view, either.) When her muscles swallow up the thick of the plug, revealing the pink bejeweled end, he groans, tapping it lightly.
"Does that feel better, baby?" 
"Uh-huh."
"What do you say?"
"Thank you, daddy."
He smirks and gently pats the backs of her thighs, a wordless gesture to flip back over. She does, her eyelashes fluttering at the feeling of the plug slightly wiggling inside of her, pressing deep against her walls. 
She leans up onto her elbows, watching as he palms his length through the material of his underwear. With wide eyes, she looks up at him, trying to ignore the way she can feel her arousal dripping down the inside of her thighs, making a sticky mess.
"What, bunny? Why are you looking at me like you're expecting something?"
Y/N pouts and Harry has to try not to smirk down at her. 
"Use your words, angel."
Her pout deepens. They both know what she wants — her pussy is all but screaming for attention — and it's embarrassing to have to admit it. She adores the way he knows her body, but he's clearly feeling just a little meaner tonight by making her verbalize all of the filthy things running through her brain. 
"Want you here, daddy." She mumbles cutely, bucking her hips up slightly. He hums and uses a finger to stroke over her mound, down to her crease where her juices are steadily collecting. 
"Here?" He asks mockingly, teasing her folds with light movements. It's not enough for her to receive any pleasure, instead just causing her to wiggle around as she attempts to guide him to her pulsating hole. 
"Inside," she all but huffs, and he chuckles, removing his touch altogether. 
"Ah, where'd my good girl go?" He smirks, "You know that's not how you ask. Plus, if you keep squirming around like this, I'll have to tie you up."
Her stomach clenches at the thought; he's always more keen on edging her until she's crying when he ties her up. She's not in the mood for that tonight — she already feels like he's been edging her by refusing to give into her — so she puffs out a breath, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. 
"Want you in my pussy, please." 
"That's all you had to say, baby," Harry murmurs. She wants to roll her eyes but she knows she'll only get spanked for it, so she nods, reveling in the sensation of his hands back on her as he separates her lips, a cooing sound forming from the back of his throat at his eyes gaze over her swollen pussy. "You have a filthy little pussy. Did you know that, bunny?"
She shakes her head. 
"Don't lie to daddy," he utters, delivering a swift slap to her clit. It makes her gasp, the quick sting that's gone just as quickly as it came. "You wouldn't be begging for my cock all the time if you didn't."
Some form of an "uh huh" leaves her mouth and he chuckles. Slowly, his fingertip trails down her crease and to the place she needs him most, circling her hole once before pushing in. Her back arches and her eyes squeeze closed, immediately grateful to finally receive something. 
"You'll take anything I give you, won't you?" Harry continues as he pumps his finger, "My fingers, my tongue. My cock, of course. Even my cum — made you daddy's little cumslut, didn't I?"
She moans loudly and nods her head, her hair forming messy knots at the friction. 
"L-love it," she stutters, the knot in her stomach winding up tightly, "Love feeling your cum inside me, daddy."
"I know you do." He purrs, pushing another finger in. "Bet you'd let me get you all swollen with it if I wanted. Carrying my baby around like the little slut you are."
They're both too wound up to even realize what he's said. They've never breached this territory before, never even considered if a future was in the cards for them. But Y/N's already whining over it before Harry has a chance to second guess himself, her pussy squeezing his fingers rapidly; a telltale sign that her peak is but a few moments away. 
"I would, I would," she chants as she pants loudly, "Fuck— fuck, I'm yours, daddy, I—"
Her words are cut off by the throaty moan that parts her lips, the rope in her core finally splitting. It's so much, so good, her muscles contracting around his fingers as he works her through it, never ceasing his praises. 
"There's my girl."
"So fucking beautiful for me."
"God, I got so lucky with you. Fuck."
Her pussy is drooling over his hand now, leaking down to the plug still firmly inside of her. He bites his lip at the visual, her hole still throbbing in haphazard pulses as he frees his cock from the confides of his underwear, desperate to feel her. 
With fluttering eyes, she blinks her eyelashes open as she watches him, her mind filled with fuzzy static. She doesn't even realize she's leaked spit out of her mouth until he smiles gently, using soft fingertips to wipe it away.
"Already cock dumb, sweetheart?"
She nods.
"Can you take more, or are you done? Squeeze my hand if you want to be done."
She doesn't — although her mind is bleary and struggling to string together coherent thoughts, the idea of not having Harry inside of her seems terrible. She can tell he looks concerned (his eyebrows are knit together ever so slightly as he strokes up and down her arm, waiting for her to say her safe word), but she has no plans of breaking now.
"More," her mouth finally forms around the syllables, pushing it out hoarsely, "Can do it."
"Yeah?" he asks through raised eyebrows. "Are you sure?"
Again, she nods. Hesitantly, he shimmies up the length of her body, knees pressed into the comforter with his length hot and heavy in his palm. 
"You know what to do if it's too much. Safe word or squeeze my hand three times."
And then finally — finally — after what seems like hours of teasing and edging (and, quite frankly, it could have been hours; Y/N's too foggy to know), he pushes his cock inside of her and everything feels right. So right, so good, so perfect. 
Her jaw drops open and she leans her head against the crook of his neck, his own groans filling the otherwise quiet room. They're not typically this silent, especially when he first enters her — she's usually whimpering and he's teasing her, calling her a dog in heat or something along those lines — but it's just so... fulfilling, and satisfying, that she can't even put it into words.
When he builds up to a steady pace, mewls begin to break free from her throat, her eyes rolling back as she lays down against the pillows again. He leans back onto his heels and pushes her thighs up against her knees, looping his arms around them to keep her there. He's far deeper that way — they can both feel it — and he gets the prettiest views of her fucked out face and plugged up ass. 
"Shit — you're so good, my fuckin' girl."
Too hazy to answer, she just nods, echoing his words. "Your girl."
"Yeah? Gonna take my cum, sweetheart? Want me to fuck it deep into you?"
"P-please," she babbles, reaching down between their bodies to play with her clit, "Want— want your babies, wanna be yours, please daddy."
"My sweet girl wants to be a mama?" he's clenching down his teeth so harshly he's nervous he may break something, "I'll give you anything, baby, pump my cum so deep in your womb you won't even remember your fuckin' name."
Chants of please, please, please are all that can leave her at this point, deft fingers rolling over her clit as she feels her third orgasm rapidly approaching. He knows it, too, and he groans at the sensation of her pussy clenching over his cock.
"Cum for me one more time and I'll do it. My fertile little pussy, hm? Pretty fucking girl gonna be the prettiest mama."
That's all it takes for her to explode around him, this time gushing out clear bursts of liquid. He groans and curses, the sight instantly sending him to his own edge. In the back of his mind, he knows that squirting all over his torso and legs will put her to the final brink of exhaustion, and he's internally grateful that he can let go and make good on his promise to her.
So, he does. He finishes deep inside her, pushing his hips all the way up against her bum as his balls throb and empty, fucking his cum as far as it'll go. They're a mess of liquids and sweat and they both know it's gross, but there's not a single place either one of them would rather be.
When her eyelashes flitter open and she looks up at him, an exhausted smile forming on her lips, he swears he's never seen anything more beautiful.
. . .
"What are your plans for the holidays?"
Harry raises his eyebrows as he spoons some more miso soup into his mouth. It's a gloomy Saturday evening, with the temperatures finally dropping down to appropriate autumnal climates. Y/N came over this morning to pick up a book he recommended for her, but — as if either one hadn't expected it — ended up staying all day, basking in the cozy glory of Harry's apartment. They snuggled up on the couch, watching Jeopardy reruns, taking turns napping and retrieving snacks and drinks for the other.
"Well," he clears his throat, "I'm not American so I don't really celebrate Thanksgiving. And Christmas is a bit far away, so I'm not sure. Why?"
She shrugs, pulling her knees up to her chest. "My sister was asking if I'm coming home for Thanksgiving."
"Ah. Are you?"
"I hadn't really thought about it."
"Why? Isn't it coming up?"
She nods her head, occupying her fingers with a loose thread at the end of Harry's tee shirt that she had thrown over her body.
"Yeah. I just... I don't know if it's stupid, but I was curious about what you were doing. Before I made any decisions."
Harry's heart thumps in his chest, his entire body warming at her taking his plans into consideration. 
"That's sweet of you, baby. Hadn't really thought about it, though."
Again, she nods, and he thinks that may be the end of the conversation. He doesn't want to impose, especially since he thinks he's been doing particularly well with the whole not-confessing-his-love thing, so he unmutes the TV and directs his attention back to the screen.
"Wait!" she blurts out, and he mutes it again through furrowed brows, "What if you... like, came with me?"
"For Thanksgiving?"
"Yeah," she bites her lip, nerves apparent on her face, "It's no pressure, my sister's hosting just 'cos she just bought a house with her girlfriend and they have two dogs that are really cute, and my dad might be there but he's not one of those weird hover-y dads that care about who I bring around, not that he wouldn't care but it would be weird to have to explain how we met, and my mom is probably spending it with my step-dad so it'll be pretty low-key, and—"
"Y/N." Harry cuts her off with a smirk before setting his bowl of soup down on the table. "Breathe. You're gonna pass out, I've never heard you talk so fast."
She takes a deep breath and he smiles, murmuring out a good as he turns to face her.
"I would love to come and celebrate Thanksgiving with you. That sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me."
"Really?"
"Of course," he replies easily. "I love any time we spend together."
Her cheeks warm and she nods, as if she's convincing herself he's being truthful. 
"Um... so, like, how should I introduce you?" she asks, and there are so many butterflies swarming Harry's stomach that he doesn't know if he can get any words out. 
"Well... how would you like to introduce me?"
She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her lips into her mouth. "I mean, I don't know... maybe, like..."
And then she mumbles something, but it's so low that he can't hear a thing.
"I didn't hear that."
She repeats it, and Harry lets out a laugh when he still doesn't understand her.
"Baby, speak up. I can't hear you."
"WhatifIsaidyouweremyboyfriend."
"What?"
"WhatifIsaidyouweremyBOYFRIEND."
"Y/N, seriously, I don't know—"
"Boyfriend!" she exclaims, "What if I said you were my boyfriend?"
He can't fight the grin that breaks out onto his face, especially given her wide, exasperated eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever tire of teasing her.
"Is this you asking me to be your boyfriend?" 
She groans and goes to rise from the couch, only to be quickly brought back down by Harry. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her towards him as his chest vibrates with laughter.
"Ask me properly."
She huffs, twisting in his lap. Swallowing nervously, she looks down, and he intertwines their fingers together. 
"Harry... would you want to be my boyfriend?" she peers up at him through her eyelashes and he smiles that big, dimpled smile that she loves, and realizes she has nothing to worry about.
"I would love nothing more than to be your boyfriend." 
He decides to save the I-love-you confession for another day, because he wants nothing more than to do things properly with her.
But when a matching toothy grin appears on her face, he mentally amends the one thing he got wrong about her: This is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
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monzabee · 1 year
Text
like real people do – cl16 (+18)
masterlist
Summary: The one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, Charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you. 
Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: smut (i can’t believe this day has arrived), absolute filth towards the end i'm so sorry mom, charles being a romantic dork, insecurities, obsessively planning something for it to only go wrong, cursing, fluff towards the end, google translate French, minors dni!!
Request: “Hi!!! Maybe you could do a first time with Charles Leclerc? Where he is upset because he wants everything to be perfect. And he whispers to her how much he loves her and her body. And maybe a sweet aftercare at the end?Just a suggestion <3 Have a nice day!”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you so much for the feedback and love you’ve left on my last fic! this one was fun to write but please beware that this is my first-time writing smut in my life. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Dating Charles is easy, you think. Not in a bad way, no. But in a way that makes it very easy for you to lost yourself in him and your love for him, which doesn’t make you feel scared whether you guys are moving too fast or too slow. Charles always tells you that you should live your life on your own pace, without any comparison to other people’s –  although he doesn’t seem to practice what he preaches, both figuratively  and literally on the track. 
You love the story of how you two met, and you know he does, too. He brings it up often when the two of you are on a date, sharing the last course of the night, dessert, even though the two of you are probably full and can’t possibly eat anymore. The two of you met almost a year ago, in France actually, after the disaster of a race. Charles was forced by his friends, mainly Pierre, to go out for the night to hopefully have some drinks and let off some steam. You, on the other hand, were on possibly the worst date you could ever remember being on in your entire life. Therefore, being the only two people who are having the worst time in the small bar, you two met on the back patio where you thought you’d be able to get some alone time. Although the two of you don’t hit it off immediately, the only thing you could think about by the end of the night is when you might see the Monegasque with the dimples again. You guys don’t start dating immediately either, no, because Charles insists that it is important for you two to get to know each other as friends first. You agree, mostly because he is right, and also because you are impressed by the fact that he is showing emotional maturity in a way you did not experience in your past relationships before. But it is easy with Charles, even if he has an inhumane work schedule most of the year and your guys’ schedules don’t match up most of the time, you make time for each other. He knows how much your career means to you and you know the same goes for him so the two of you are very careful not to cross any lines. That doesn’t mean that Charles doesn’t spend all of his free time with you, of course.  
Another interesting thing about your relationship is the fact that you two haven’t had sex yet, although you’ve been together for a while. Some people are genuinely shocked to find this little fact out, for example when you told Lily she almost dropped the coffee mug she was carrying, or sometimes Charles’ friends like to make fun of the situation, mostly Pierre (in reality, only Pierre), though it’s all in good fun. You don’t feel weird about the fact that you two haven’t slept together yet, but you ask him whether there’s a certain reason why and Charles’ answer turns you into a sobbing mess in his arms. He explains that while he would love to fuck your brains out – in the most respectful way possible – but he want is to be perfect for your first time. In his mind, he is trying to show you how serious he is about your relationship by slowing down the pace and taking his time, and when he’s finally able to put it in words, they make you tear up in the best way possible. That’s not to say that the two of you didn’t partake in other forms of sexual intimacy per se. For example, there’s that one time where he came into his driver’s room after a particularly adrenaline filled race and dropped to his knees for you – you can still recall the devilish smile on his face and the fact that he never took his eyes off of you, not once. There was the time after the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, of course, where the two of you managed to sneak out of the ceremony into one of the bathroom stalls and this time you were the one on your knees for him. In conclusion, neither of you feel you’re missing out on anything just because you haven’t had sex yet. 
It’s a couple of months after the last time you brought up the topic of having sex when the two of you stumble onto the topic again. It’s by an accident, really – and not much of a discussion, only a couple of words exchanged between the two of you. The two of you are watching a new movie which finally made its way onto Netflix, and you’re very happy with your place on the couch – squeezed between the cushions with the side of Charles’ body, which is very warm and making you a little sleepy to be honest. However, your sleepy mood is quickly wiped away when you realise the soft moans coming from the TV. You let your eyes take in the scene before you, the actors on the screen not slowing down for a second when you realise Charles’ breathing has gone deeper. He involuntarily tightens his arm around your shoulders, pressing you more into his sides. 
“Charles,” you mumble, bringing your gaze up to him and swallowing a deep breath once his green eyes meet yours. 
“Yes, chérie?” Although the focus on his eyes are on you, you can tell that he is also very much aware of the developing scene on the TV. His eyes widen when he realises what your silent request is and he exhales sharply. “Chérie…” 
You hide your face in his neck at the gentle rejection he offers, leaving soft kisses across the skin left open from the neckline of his hoodie. “Please, mon coeur.” You think your choice of words does it for a second. It usually does it, when you speak French because you don’t do it very often, but one look in his eyes tells you tonight won’t be the night. “But why?” you whine, almost childishly, burying your face deeper in his neck. 
“Because you need perfection, mon amour.” He replies, but there is a strain in his voice due to the tightness in his sweatpants. 
“I don’t need perfection.” You grumble, your sexual tension feeling overwhelming for the moment. 
“Maybe not,” Charles replies, taking a deep breath. “But you deserve it.” 
You inhale deeply at his words too, occupying your hands with the strings of his hoodie. “Soon?” you ask in a hopeful voice. 
He leaves a soft kiss on your hairline with an affirmative hum. “Soon,” he promises. 
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It’s a couple of weeks later that incident when you find yourself back in his apartment in Monaco. Due to the flexibility your work provides now that you’re taking on more freelance roles. Charles was worried you took the step because of his own schedule, but you quickly assured him that you were feeling burnt-out because of the 9-to-5 hustle. So when you step in his apartment that evening, you take in the sight with a small smile on your face. 
“Honey, I’m home!” You announce your arrival, presenting the flowers in your hand with a proud expression as you enter the kitchen.
“Chérie!” He welcomes you, walking towards you from behind the counter and engulfing you in one of his bear hugs – which are your favourite, of course. “Welcome home, I’ve missed you.” 
“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t sent me out to get my nails, you silly goose.” You giggle, getting out of his arms and leaving a kiss on his cheek to go find a vase for the bouquet in your hands. 
“I needed time, and you know why.” He crosses his arms in his chest and a small smirk finds a place on his face as he raises his eyebrows. “You bought me flowers?” 
“Well, yes,” You shrug, “everyone deserves flowers, no?” 
“Hm,” he lets out a small hum, and gets behind you while you’re filling up a vase with water. He places his chin on your shoulder as he speaks in a low voice. “I got you flowers as well; you know.” 
“Oh, I know, I saw them on the dining room table.” You smile as you look at the flowers placing them on an empty place on the counter and turning your head back to look at Charles. “I love them, thank you, darling.” 
He kisses your lips softly, “I’m glad you like them.” He perks up when the oven timer indicates that the dinner is ready. So he takes your hand and walks you towards the door, “You go wait in the dining room, I’ll be right over.” 
He comes into the dining room a little while later carrying a pizza presented on a large plate with what you think to be artistically placed basil leaves. You smile widely at him while he puts the plate on the table and serves the two of you. “You cooked me pizza?” You ask, pressing your lips together to prevent you from smiling like a maniac. 
“I know it’s your favourite.” He smiles wildly right back at you, motioning your plate. “You first, I wanna see your reaction.” 
“Okay!” You answer him, picking up the slice and taking a bite out of it. As you start to chew the piece, you widen your eyes and let out a hum to disguise your reaction. Although it takes you a minute or two to swallow the piece in your mouth, his excited eyes never leave yours for a moment. “It’s great! Which recipe did you use, honey?” 
“I’m glad you asked,” he answers you, picking up his own piece, “it’s a recipe I found online.” He bites a mouthful out of the pizza and as he begins to chew, his eyes widen and suddenly he is spitting the food into a napkin as politely as he can. “Jesus, what’s wrong with this thing?” His eyes move towards your face and widens even more. “Chérie, you can’t possibly like this.” 
“What, no!” You say, dragging out the last letter. “It’s great, Charles, really.” You start to take another bite, but he stops you with an incredulous look on his face. 
“Chérie, non! You’re going to give yourself food poisoning!” He shakes his head, and takes out his phone to check the recipe after you ask him once again which recipe he used. “It’s the one from ‘Food Network’. It’s supposed be edible, no?”
“Oh, Charles.” You sigh, softly, looking over the American measurements instead of the European ones. 
His confused eyes find yours. “What?” he asks with a genuine concern. 
“They are in the American form, not the European ones.” You answer, a hand stroking his forearm in attempts to bring him sympathy. 
“Oh my god, I– I’m sorry, chérie.” He sighs, leaning his head back towards the back of the chair and letting out a frustrated groan. “I am stupid.” 
“You are not stupid, Charles.” You assure him, you hand is still on his arm to hopefully convince him that he is not, in fact, stupid. “It’s a common mistake.” 
“But non, it was supposed to be edible!” He points to the dough on your plate frustratedly and adds, “I even got you the wine you liked so we could share it.” 
“You got me wine to share?” You ask him softly. “But you don’t even like wine.” 
His answer is simple. “But you do.” He takes a moment to reflect and then brings his hands up to cover his face. “Oh my god, I forgot to take the wine out of the freezer.” 
“Charles, please,” You try to move his hands from his face, but he stubbornly keeps them there, letting out a groan in the process. “Okay, nope, enough.” You announce, getting up from your chair and try to forcefully pull him out of his chair. 
“No, mon amour, stop.” He argues, but you keep pulling him towards the bedroom with still chanting the words; no and nope.
When you finally get to the bedroom and open the door, you’re quite surprised to find another surprise there. You let your eyes wander through the rose petals and candles in the room – though, yes, it is a bit cheesy, you know the reason he went to this far is only to make you feel special and appreciated. “Charles,” you say his name with softness, and emotion, and (maybe) with tears but your hand in his tightens the moment you lay your eyes on him. “I love you, God, I love you.” 
“I love–” He can’t finish the rest of his sentence because suddenly you pull his face against yours, and press your lips onto his. His hands are quick to find your waist, and pull you against him. His movements are slow as he leads you towards the bed, but he lets you have control over the kiss and tries to match your rhythm as you deepen the kiss. As you get closer to the bed, one of his hands find your ass and when he squeezes the flesh under his hands, he is also quick to swallow your moans in his kiss. 
You let out a protesting hum when he tries to put you on top of the bed, so he slowly pulls away from the kiss and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “No.” You murmur, quickly switching your positions and gently pushing him to sit on the bed. “My turn.” You quickly place yourself to sit on his lap with a playful smile on your face. You let your hands wander across his shirt-clad chest, quickly starting to unbutton it while keeping your eyes on his. He assists you when you try to pull his shirt off of him and sigh dreamily at the sight, and softly pushing him on his shoulder to lie down on the bed. You proceed to drop your head and press kisses to anywhere and everywhere on his skin. You start with his lips, which he tries to deepen but quickly gives up because he understands what you’re trying to do, then his jaw and neck, his chest and eventually through the happy trail which leads your mouth to the destination you were hoping to achieve. Your start to unbutton his pants and try to undo his belt buckle, but he stops your shaky hands to bring you back up despite your protests. 
“No, chérie, not tonight.” Although his tone is firm, you try to get back to your previous position in hopes that we will let you. However, he tightens his hands on your hips to keep you in place as he pulls you close and whispers, “I said no, mauvaise fille.” bad girl. A smirk threatens to etch itself on his face when he hears your soft whine at his attempt to chastise you. He brings one of his hands to rest on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck and allows his thumb to caress your bottom lip. “You’re going to let me worship you, n'est-ce pas? wont you? Before I fuck you, I mean.” 
Your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat, but you manage to let out a soft, “Charles.” 
“Tell me, mon amour, or I won’t touch you tonight at all.” There is a mischievous look on his face which is laced with months of built-up sexual tension – rather a dangerous combination, you reckon.
“Y-yes.” You breath out. “I will let you.” 
“You will let me do what, my love? Say it in French.” He moves his hand to cover your neck and applies the smallest bit of pressure he knows you like, enough to keep you on your toes but not enough to cut the air completely or leave any bruises. “You know I love it when you speak in French.”
“Je– Charles.” You quickly give up as you try to string the correct words together but his persistent gaze has you trying again and again to find the right ones. “Je te laisserai me toucher.” I will let you touch me. 
The smirk on his face turns wicked as he clicks his tongue. “Ne touche pas, dis-moi le mot juste, chérie.” Not touch, tell me the correct word, darling. “I won’t touch you tonight if you don’t tell me,” he reminds you. 
You let out a whine as you try to move your hips to gain some friction for relief, but his hand, which is still on your hip, stops you from doing so. Moving your hands to slowly hold his wrist, which belongs to the hand currently wrapped around your neck, you look him straight in the eyes with a panic. “Adorer! Je te laisserai m'adorer!” Worship, I will let you worship me!
“Bonne fille,” Good girl, he mumbles getting you out of your dress in no time. But he takes time with your underwear, allowing his fingers to explore as he teases you – no doubt. He slowly lays your body on top of the bed, and moves his body to sit between your parted legs. “Beautiful,” he whispers as he lets his eyes wander through the curves of your body, your chest, and eventually the wet spot between your legs. “Are you wet for me, my love?”
You nod timidly, partly due to the fact that you’re completely naked while he only has his shift off. It’s not that you two haven’t been naked together before, but it feels much more different this time compared to before. “Charles, please.” Your whine is much high in pitch this time, feeling needier as the minutes go by. “Please, do something.” 
“I will, mon chérie, don’t worry.” He moves down on the bed and lowers himself on his knees and pulls your legs over his shoulders. “Just don’t forget to tell me if it gets to much, okay?” 
“Okay– my God, Charles!” You throw your head back as Charles begins his mission – which must be, when looking back, eating you out like a mad man because the second he places his tongue on your slit, he begins to devour you as if he’s been starving for years. As he licks and nips and sucks at you skin, you have no control over the reactions your body supplies him with, which is mostly chanting his name over and over again. And you are pretty sure that he becomes more motivated to make cum every time your voice gets higher both in voice and pitch. You don’t know how long it has been and how many orgasms he’s given you just with his mouth and fingers. Three? Four? Five? You’re not sure – but the one thing you know is that when you’re just about to come again, you weave your hands through his hair and pull hard. In retrospect, it seemed like a good idea, but you come to regret that decision when Charles takes your clit between his lips and sucks just as hard, guiding through a mind-blowing orgasm which leaves you shaking and arching your back against the Monegasque. Just as you thought that would be it, he begins to restart his fingers’ movements, which has you pushing his head off of your pussy in an attempt to stop him. “Charles, I can’t anymore!” 
That seems to do it, because with a feverish look on his face, Charles lifts his head up and holds on to your thighs which are still on the either side of his head. “What’s wrong, mon amour?”
“I can’t – I’m sorry,” you babble through the involuntary tears, mostly due to the force of your orgasm – which does leave him worried but he lets you finish your thoughts before he takes any action. “Please just fuck me.” 
“Shh,” he soothes you, leaving small kisses to your upper thighs and moves himself to hover over your body. “You did so well, bonne fille.” He strokes your hair as he whispers sweet nothings to your ear, helping you to calm down and regulate your breathing before the two of you continue. “Breath, bonne fille, ma bonne fille.”
You listen to him as he gives you instructions, breathing deeper breaths and trying to keep your focus on his eyes while you do so. Your hands grip his biceps tightly when he makes a move to get up, the look in your eyes becoming panicky once again. “Where are you going?” 
His hand continue its movements in your hair as he smiles at you softly. “I’m going to grab a condom, and be right back, okay?” 
“Don’t.” You croak, your throat becoming dry as you keep talking and start blushing akin to a lobster. “I’m on birth control.” 
“Chérie,” Charles starts, “Y/N, we can’t–”
“Please, I just wanna feel you.” The softness of your voice tugs at his heartstrings as you add, “Only if you want to.” 
“Of course, I want to, you silly girl.” Charles assures you quickly and gets out of his trousers and boxers, and positions himself between your legs with the head of his cock pressed to your opening. He moves his eyes from you pussy to your face, locking his gaze with yours as he speaks again, “I’m going to go slow, okay?” He waits for your reaction before starting to move his hips, his cock moving inside you in a slow pace. As he continues the movement of his hips your lips part and a moan resembling his name come out. He stops at a certain point and gives you a moment to adjust, then moves his hips backwards enough that he gets out of you, but he is quick to slip back in and continue his movements up to the point he let you get adjusted to. 
You let out a whine, which prompts him to raise his eyebrows in question, which you reply with a nod of your own. You wrap your legs around his hips, the skin-to-skin contact feeling nice, and push him deeper inside you which results in you actually screaming his name. If you thought feeling him before that moment was pleasurable, felling all of him inside you all at once feels as if you’ve achieved some sort of nirvana. “Deeper, please, plus profonde.”
“I’ve got you, darling.” He manages to get out, moving his hips faster and deeper at the same time and hitting the spot which causes your eyes to roll back to your head every time. “You have no idea how beautiful you look like this, right now. Mon chef-d'œuvre, tout à moi.” My masterpiece, all mine.
With your entire body shaking with the movement of Charles’ hips, you still manage to nod your head. “All yours, Charles.” Your hands squeezing his biceps for support, “I love you, je t'aime tellement.” I love you so much. 
“God, I love you so much.” He lets out a groan, and drops his head to your neck to press kisses and suck your skin between his lips in an urgent need to leave his mark on your body. “Je promets que je t'aimerai pour toujours.” I promise I'll love you forever.
Your hands move to weave through his messy hair, pulling him closer in an attempt to keep him closer to your body – which proves a challenge because the two of you are already wrapped around each other. “I’m close, mon coeur.” 
“I know, sweetheart.” He breathes on your neck, his warm breath making you shiver under the weight of his body. He puts his weight on one of his arms and moves the other one towards your body, this fingers quick to find your clit as he begins to circle it. “Come for me so I can fill you up, hm? You want that, don’t you?” 
You nod your head and let him take you there for the last time that night, your orgasm coming in stronger than the previous ones due to the overstimulation Charles thankfully provided. “I do, I do, I really, really do.” Your legs tighten around his hips and your hands slip down his back as you claw at the skin there while your hips lift off the bed, causing you to arch your body to mold his. 
He only lets himself come when he’s guided you through yours, his fingers slowing down without stopping when he’s emptying himself into you. The moan he gets out, muffled because his head is still buried in your neck, quickly becomes one of your favourite sounds in the world. He holds you close as he slips out of you, the small wince on your face not going unnoticed by him, and he pulls you towards him when he drops next to you on the bed. Charles listens to your breathing for a while, only to find you looking at him with sleep evident in your eyes and a pleased smile on your lips. “Comme c'est joli.” How pretty. He says, “And all mine.” 
“All yours,” you sigh, but your voice coming off sleepy. “I’ve always been all yours.” 
His fingers draw random shapes on the bare skin on your back as he raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Hm, tu sais que c'est vrai.” You know it’s true. You mumble, snuggling closer to the driver wrapped around you. “I love you, mon amour.”
“I love you too, chérie.” He kisses the side of your head. “The next time we do this, I’m making you edible pizza, though.” 
“I don’t need pizza.” You laugh softly, “only you.” 
“Still,” Charles shrugs, “now go to sleep so I can take you out to breakfast tomorrow.” 
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joelscruff · 1 year
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one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART TWO
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thank you so much for the love on the first part!! ♥ PART ONE | ao3 summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (this part is not explicit but this fic will be) warnings: (for future parts) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink - will add more as fic progresses word count: about 3.9k
That whole day you'd kept waiting for Joel to mention it, say absolutely anything in allusion to what the two of you had shared that morning, but he didn't. And in turn, neither did you. It was like it had never happened; he didn't look at you differently or talk to you differently, which you guess in most ways you were grateful for. The last thing you wanted was for him to suddenly start acting like there was something weird going on, but there was something going on. The way he'd looked at you, the way his fingers had stroked the skin of your back, you knew it wasn't just nothing.
The only thing that had changed was Joel's stamina; after such a good sleep, he'd recovered greatly in just one night and now seemed to be able to travel further without as many stops. In just one day you'd all managed to double your travel time, which even managed to put a smile on Ellie's face.
“I'm glad you're feeling better,” she'd said to Joel that afternoon, beaming proudly at the miracle she'd helped him achieve, “It was weird not having you around for so long.”
He'd smiled back at her and your heart had stuttered at the familiarity of it, recalling the look he'd given you that morning, “I knew I'd be back,”he'd said it stiltedly, like he was talking in a foreign accent. You'd both stared at him in confusion and he'd sighed exasperatedly, “Terminator. Movie from the 80s.”
“Ohhh,” you and Ellie had both chorused, and he'd rolled his eyes.
You'd set up camp again that night and had hoped that Ellie's change in demeanour might warrant her sleeping closer to the fire, closer to you and Joel, but it didn't. In fact, she'd ended up setting down her sleeping bag even further away than the night before. You and Joel both acknowledged it but didn't say anything to her, not wanting to push her boundaries.
“I'm worried about her,” you'd said quietly when it was just the two of you.
“I know, me too,” he'd sighed, “Kept thinkin' that maybe tonight would be different – she was so normal today, wasn't she?”
“She was,” you agreed, “I thought the same thing.”
“Guess it's gonna take time,” he muttered, poking at the fire absentmindedly, “luckily we got no shortage of that, huh?” his eyes met yours and you felt that familiar flutter in the base of your stomach before he turned his attention back to the fire.
Joel took first watch. Neither of you had acknowledged the period of time in which you both slept last night, so by proxy Joel hadn't given you any shit for not waking him up for his turn. You set your sleeping bag up a few feet from the fire where he sat, painfully aware of the fact that he could see every move you made. You realized quickly that in your nervousness, or maybe because all you could think of was last night, you'd laid it wide and flat against the ground like it was a duvet. Like it wasn't just you sleeping under it tonight.
“You'll freeze like that,” he'd said quietly behind you, and you'd tried not to show the disappointment you felt was written all over your body language.
“Right,” you'd muttered, and zipped the bag back up, slipping inside of it and shutting your eyes tight once you were situated.
Of course he's not gonna get in with you, you idiot. It was a one-time thing. He's probably already forgotten it even happened.
You tried to sleep but failed miserably. Your thoughts wouldn't shut up, reminding you over and over again that Joel was right there, only a few feet away, and yet you couldn't have felt further away from him. You longed for the feeling of his arms around you again, that warmth you'd shared together, the feeling of his hot skin against the palm of your hand. You couldn't stop replaying that moment over and over, when he'd looked down at you and smiled so softly and tenderly, looked at you like you were the only person that existed to him.
You felt a gentle nudge to your shoulder and you opened your eyes to see Joel kneeling over you, extending the rifle toward your still form, “Sorry,” he'd said quietly, “it's your turn.”
“It's okay, I wasn't asleep,” you whispered, taking the rifle from him and sitting up.
His brow furrowed at your words but he didn't say anything else, just got up from his crouch and walked over to where he'd set up his blanket. You felt the urge to tell him he'd freeze, use his own words against him, but you knew it wouldn't achieve anything.
Your watch was uneventful, spent mostly throwing grass into the fire and watching the embers dance in the darkness. You couldn't get your mind to focus on anything else but Joel, who you periodically peered over at to make sure wasn't freezing to death. He was still, but the expression on his face was anything but peaceful and you very much doubted he was even asleep.
Around the time you knew you were supposed to alert him for his watch, you hesitated. A new thought had crossed your mind and you began to twist it around in your head, weighing the pros and cons. After a few moments of deep thought, you got up and walked over to Joel. He was shivering a little bit now, not much but it was obvious he wasn't comfortable.
Fuck it, you'd thought to yourself, then grabbed your sleeping bag and started to unzip it. Hearing the noise, Joel – who (you were right) was wide awake – opened his eyes and saw you standing there. You met his gaze but neither of you said anything. He'd watched as you carefully laid down beside him, not close enough that you were touching because you still weren't sure how he'd react, but so both of you were underneath the new layer of warmth together. You waited for him to tell you to move or for him to scramble out from under the material and start his watch, but he didn't. He just kept looking at you, expression unreadable. It was like an unspoken challenge, who would speak first, and you were both winning.
With one last look at him, you'd closed your eyes, willing yourself to believe that he would stay.
-
The sound of Joel snoring woke you up in the early hours of the morning, not because it was obnoxious but because it was directly in your ear. Your eyes snapped open and you realized you were now lying on your side facing the trees. You could feel him at your back, pressed into you solidly with his arms wrapped around your middle; he was spooning you.
Swallowing out of nervousness you looked down at his hands, curled around your midsection, and felt a hot pang of recognition as reality began to sink in; he hadn't gotten up for his watch, he'd stayed with you and fallen asleep. He'd wanted you there. You closed your eyes and found yourself choking back the sudden emotions you felt bubbling to the surface. Joel wanted you. He wanted you.
He snored again and you couldn't help but smile, feeling his warm breath at the nape of your neck, the tip of his nose bumping gently against the skin there. You could feel his beard against the top of your shoulder blade and you shivered unconsciously, leaning further back into his touch, feeling the hint of his lips brush against your skin. You closed your eyes and sighed contentedly, and seconds later you'd fallen back to sleep.
When you woke again, he was gone. You rolled over with a frown, searching for him, only to see both he and Ellie sitting at the fire eating breakfast. You looked down and realized that Joel had put his blanket back in his pack and wrapped your sleeping bag around you, making it seem like you'd slept by yourself all night. If he'd been alone at the fire you would have been confused, hurt, but seeing Ellie sitting there made it make sense; he didn't want her to know, and honestly neither did you.
You'd sat up and stretched, then extricated yourself from the sleeping bag and shuffled over to the two of them. Ellie hadn't said anything, bleary eyed and clearly still half asleep as she munched on whatever canned perishable they'd cooked up, but Joel had looked at you and graced you with a gorgeous half smile, eyes meeting yours.
“Mornin',” he'd said softly, “Sleep good?”
You'd smiled back and sat beside Ellie, reaching for a fork, “Really good, you?”
His eyes, dark and deep but shining in the morning sun, held your gaze as he replied, “Can't complain.”
After that, neither of you slept alone.
The following night, Joel had spread his blanket out on the ground and you'd wordlessly placed your sleeping bag on top of it; he didn't object. You both abandoned the idea of a second watch, confident that you were far enough away from any civilization that no one was going to sneak up on you in the night. After checking the perimeter and making sure Ellie was fast asleep, you'd crawled under the sleeping bag where Joel lay still and inched in beside him. You didn't make eye contact, nerves twisting inside your belly as you shuffled even closer to him and wound your arm around his torso, placing your head on his chest. In response, he'd tilted his head toward yours, nosing the crown of it and sighing contentedly, his hands coming up to trail gently along your back.
“Night,” you'd breathed, nuzzling into the warmth of his coat, focusing on the feeling of being held by him.
“G'night,” he'd murmured in response, and you'd both fallen asleep within minutes.
Every morning was the same in some ways but different in others. Sometimes he'd be spooning you from behind again, and you could always tell when he was awake versus when he was asleep by the way he nuzzled against you. When he was asleep he was uninhibited, mouth open against your skin and arms a dead weight around your body, solid and comfortable. When he was awake he was more reserved, keeping his face shrouded in your jacket instead of your neck, fingers consciously fluttering around your middle like he wasn't sure exactly what to do with them.
Admittedly you'd pretend to be asleep for longer periods so you could bask in the feeling of him holding you so close; whenever he realized you were awake he would always pull away, not out of embarrassment or regret but because he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. This much was clear by the way he touched you when he thought you were asleep, so careful and gentle, soft and sweet. Like you were some precious thing he had to be extremely careful with or you'd break apart. He was never trying to get away from you, only trying to get you closer.
But neither of you said anything, never spoke a word about it to each other. It simply became a part of the routine. You weren't sure if there was some unspoken rule that talking about it would make it weird or make it go away, but you weren't going to risk it and neither was Joel. What happened at night and in the early mornings was just between the two of you, quiet and secret. Ellie was none the wiser; she was still keeping her distance at night and though you were still concerned about it, you had to admit that you were slightly thankful for her sudden desire for independence. Without it, you doubted you'd be waking up in Joel's embrace every morning.
Your favorite part of those mornings, of those moments, was when Joel would look at you. Somehow, though neither of you had spoken a word about what was going on, that one look he'd give you in the early hours when the sun was just barely cresting the trees was everything. His eyes would meet yours in a silent whisper, a cosmic spark that you could feel in your bones. They were so brown and so soft – you could remember first meeting him and being frightened by the coldness of his stare, laughable now. The man who looked at you now was kind and gentle, the aged lines that painted his face no longer seeming intimidating or such a big deal – he was a lot older than you, but so what? He'd blink slowly, no longer because he was tired but because he was so relaxed, and oftentimes his eyes would involuntarily close again and he'd fall back into a quiet and easy sleep.
You'd live in that brief moment for the rest of the day, holding the image at the front of your mind until you were back in his arms again. Rinse. Repeat. You still weren't sure what any of it meant to him, but you'd begun to realize what it meant to you; the mere thought of not having those moments anymore or losing whatever it was the two of you shared frightened you. You'd begun to need him so much more than you had before and you couldn't help but wonder if he was starting to feel that same need.
-
It had been about two weeks since the events with David. Joel was doing much better but still hadn't returned to his regular travel pace, leaving you all still hiking through the Colorado wilderness. You'd both had to make a pretty tough decision in regard to whether you'd travel by roads and through small abandoned communities or stick to the secluded safety of the forest. Arguably you'd get to your destination faster by road, but safety had become a much higher priority ever since Joel's close call, not to mention Ellie had obviously become extremely wary of other people. The last thing you needed was to run into another group – or worse, a cult like David's. Besides, sleeping deep in the forest meant less need for frequent watches, which meant more good sleeps for both you and Joel that kept you well rested and alert... among other things.
The sun had started setting when Ellie first saw the sign, running ahead with a wide eyed expression and extending her arm out to point to the faded wooden letters.
“'Evergreen Haven Hideaway'”, she read aloud “Come for a relaxing soak in our hot springs'” she turned around to look at you and Joel, a confused expression on her face, “What are hot springs?”
“Holy shit,” you'd muttered breathlessly, jogging forward a bit to catch up to Ellie and peer at the sign, “They're like natural outdoor baths, the water stays really warm even when it's cold outside.”
“Baths?” she'd looked at you incredulously, “Like we could actually get clean here?”
“Well, without soap we can't do much, but being submerged in water that's not gonna make us freeze to death sounds good to me.”
“Hold on,” Joel had caught up to you, expression serious, “Look at the other sign.”
Your eyes scanned ahead of you and you noticed another wooden sign that had fallen down into the dirt, half covered by plant growth: Cabins and Campground for All Ages.
“This ain't just a hot spring, it's a resort.”
Your face visibly fell and Ellie raised an eyebrow, “So?”
“So,” Joel sighed, looking around suspiciously as if he half expected to see someone emerge from the treeline, “That last place where everything went down, that was a resort too. Albeit much larger and not secluded, but still a resort.”
At the mention of David's compound, Ellie's expression changed, her eyes suddenly cold and hard. You watched as she clenched her left hand into a fist, then swiftly turned around to face away from you and Joel so you couldn't see her face.
“Nothing could be worse than that place,” she said stoically, evenly.
You and Joel looked at each other, sharing a glance that echoed the exact same sentiment: she wasn't going to take no for an answer, not anymore.
Sighing, Joel shook the rifle off his shoulder and checked the rounds. You pulled out your handgun and did the same thing, biting your lip. You were both running out of bullets, not to mention food, and you both knew that an opportunity like this to find some supplies wasn't going to come along again any time soon. Hearing the rattle of artillery, Ellie spun back around. Her cold expression was suddenly replaced with a wide smile when she saw what you were doing.
“Fuck yeah!” she said excitedly, slipping her backpack off and digging through it to find her gun, “Hot springs!”
“Hot springs,” you repeated with a smile, eyeing Joel.
He nodded but his expression was still serious, “Hot springs.”
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withahappyrefrain · 29 days
Note
for those smutty prompts you reblogged ☺️ 29, which also goes pretty well with 7 too 💁🏼‍♀️
They do and they fit Birdie and Roo very well!
Warnings: Bradley's hands, reader has a nickname (no appearance described), smut, mentions of insecurities, did I mention Bradley's hands?
You should've noticed it earlier. Any other time when you weren't at your job, when you didn't have to be a professional.
But when Bradley went to give one of your students a high five, the stark juxtaposition of his hand compared to an eight year old's was astounding.
They were huge.
You wanted to entwine your hand with his, to feel his calloused fingertips. You wanted to feel them all over your body, particularly your throat.
But you were at your job. He was here to talk about his job for Career Day, filling in for a last minute cancellation.
So instead, you cleared your throat, "Let's give a big thank you to Mr. Bradshaw for coming in!"
Your professionalism nearly faltered when his hand laid itself on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.
"I'll see you later?" Bradley whispered, brown eyes full of hope.
One could see your quiet nod as a way to not draw attention to the interaction.
But you knew the truth. It was to keep yourself from saying something highly inappropriate in front of twenty third graders.
After your illy-timed revelation, it felt like the universe was doing everything within it's power to draw attention to Bradley's hands.
When you came home, you found Bradley in your kitchen, long fingers splayed out across one of your cabinets as his other hand worked to tighten a screw. His brows were knitted together in concentration, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out between his teeth as he focused.
His sweet brown eyes lit up when he saw you at the doorway of the kitchen.
"You'd think for how much your landlord charges, they'd have the decency to make sure all the screws are on tight."
It was such a sweet gesture. You hadn't mentioned it at all, meaning he must have noticed it himself. He took the time to grab his toolbox, bring it over here, and begin fixing it himself.
And all you could do was stare at his hands.
"Birdie? You okay?" His question broke you out of your trance.
"Oh yeah! Thanks Roo," you quickly kissed his warm cheek before excusing yourself to change.
This was bad. It was too early in the relationship to say something. You two had only slept together a handful of times. You still fucked in missionary there was no way you could ask him to choke you.
And what if he wasn't into that? What if he thought it was weird? Wouldn't be the first guy. But the difference now was that you really liked Bradley. You could see a future with him and he felt the same way.
The last thing you needed was to make him run for the hills.
So when you went into the kitchen after changing, you focused on reheating leftovers. Not the way Bradley was playing with Ladybug in the living room, those God damn hands scratching the dog's belly much to her delight.
This plan was going pretty well, until you felt large palms skimming across your bare thighs, a broad chest pressed against your back.
"Are those new?" Bradley asked, referring to the soft lounge shorts you had on.
"Uh yeah. They were on sale so I decided to treat myself," you quietly explained. God, his hands covered so much of your flesh. The way they gently kneaded the soft muscle of your thighs was heavenly combined with the hairs of his mustache brushing against your neck.
"D-do you like them?" Your voice was shaky, though it was an honest question. Okay, maybe you were trying to distract yourself again because thinking of the least attractive thing wasn't taking your mind off the way his fingers had slipped underneath the hem of your shorts.
Usually thinking of the way Stephen King wrote female characters always did trick. At least it did until Bradley Bradshaw came along.
"Love 'em. Love when you show off your thighs," he rasps in your ear.
"Really?" It was never a body part you noticed. In fact, you tried not to think about your thighs and the stretch marks that danced along the skin there or how much space they took up when you sat down.
Bradley nods before placing a soft kiss on your cheek, "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I love everything about you Birdie."
His declaration makes your heart flutter.
"Guess I've always been a thigh guy? But yeah, your's are pretty damn amazing." You don't have to turn around, the small chuckle he lets out at the end indicates he's flustered.
When you turn around, you're met with rosy cheeks and bashful eyes. Bradley ducks his head into the crook of your neck, placing small kisses along your jawline.
His admission makes you feel at ease, your worries melting away. Your hands find his, several of your fingers wrapping around only one of his.
"I...I like your hands. A lot," you admit.
Bradley's mouth stills, "Really?"
You giggle, "Yeah. Like how big they are. Like how they feel when I hold them."
His mouth moves upward, now against the shell of your ear, "Saw you looking at them earlier. Is that all you were thinking about? Holding them?"
You could say yes and Bradley will drop it. He's had his suspicions about you, that there was more than you lead on when it came to the bedroom. Little things here and there have led him to believe it, as well as that you needed someone to open that door for you.
"I...." You took a deep breath, "I like how your fingers feel inside of me. And....I want to know how they'd feel around my throat."
The groan Bradley let out was gutteral, causing your thighs to clench.
"Jesus fucking Christ Birdie." For a brief moment, anxiety raced through your mind. You had messed up, had gone too far.
But then Bradley's mouth crashed against yours, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he picked you up. While the sudden show of strength made your head spin, it was feeling his erection that made you wonder why you worried in the first place.
Once you were placed on the counter, Bradley's hands trailed up your body, squeezing and kneading your soft flesh. His fingers reminded you that you had opted to go braless when you changed, the deft digits paying particularly close attention to your breasts.
All you could do was hold on, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. Before you could even mark up that pretty neck of his, Bradley's hand found yours. His fingers spanned the entirety of your throat.
The grip he had on your neck forced you to look up, allowing Bradley's lips to crash against yours. It was dizzying, how small he made you feel.
Then his hand pressed against your throat and you were a goner. Broken moans filled your kitchen, your hips rutting against Bradley's in a feeble attempt to get more of him.
His other hand slipped past the waistband of your shorts, your body arching into his when his fingers skimmed the thin fabric of your panties.
You loved his touch. You were pretty sure you loved him too but that was a future you problem.
And all too soon, it was gone- his hand around your throat, the other rubbing your clothed core.
If it weren't for the cloud of anxiety beginning to form in your brain, you may have been able to say something witty, like taking it back to the bedroom. But that would require your brain to not jump to the worst conclusion, such as Bradley realizing how weird it was to be obsessed with hands.
Before you could say anything, Bradley dropped to his knees, now at eye level with your lap.
His long fingers trailed up your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They finally stopped at the waistband of your shorts.
Shit.
Yes, you knew Bradley was coming over. God, you even had the chance to change into something more appealing than the plain underwear that could only be described as 'granny panties'. And yet, it completely slipped your mind that perhaps you and Bradley would be doing something more intimate this evening.
Alright, that was a lie. You had been hoping that would be the case, but expecting it would be rude.
So you went to apologize, like you always did. Apologize for not being sexy enough, thoughtful enough, not considerate enough-
Bradley's mouth silenced you as soon as it latched onto one of your bare thighs. Your fingers found his sun kissed hair, clinging onto the roots to stay somewhat stable, which was extremely difficult considering the attention Bradley was giving to your thighs.
You thought he would give them a kiss or two, maybe a bite and then move on.
Instead, Bradley had developed an unpredictable pattern when it came to your thighs. A bite here, sometimes followed by his tongue lapping over the mark, other times his lips pressing open mouthed kisses over your skin.
It was nice. Borderline unusual, considering those you dated in the past hardly spent anytime on one specific body part. Was he doing this because of your unappealing underwear?
No. Bradley said he liked-no-loved your thighs. And Bradley Bradshaw actually meant what he said.
The seed of doubt that had tried to grow in your mind withered away with each kiss, with each love bite and mark he placed on your thighs. With every action done by his stupidly talented mouth, worries about what you were wearing faded away.
Instead, you could just enjoy the insanely attractive man who was in between your legs.
God, he was so fucking hot. In such a short time, he had mastered your body, knowing the perfect amount of pressure when he sunk his teeth into your skin. His fingers gripped your soft flesh, hard enough to leave hand-shaped bruises but soft enough to still be pleasurable.
Tension melted off your body. Your head lolled back, mind focused on how enjoyable it was-
Oh.
This is what it was supposed to be like all along, wasn't it?
"Birdie? You okay baby?" When you opened your eyes, Bradley was at eye level with you.
You could only let out a confused huh.
"You stopped making those cute noises." He thought those were cute? You had been trying to hold back, not wanting to be too loud.
Maybe you should be louder.
"Yeah, sorry, I was just enjoying myself," you said sheepishly.
Bradley shook his head, "Nothing you have to apologize for."
When you looked up, he was giving you that earnest smile that made your heart flutter.
It's that exact smile that gives you the courage to learn forward and kiss him, trying to pour as much passion as one can with one simple action.
Your body arches into his, fingers weaving through those soft curls.
One of Bradley's hands snaked down your body, going past the waistband of your panties. A jolt of electricity went up your spine upon feeling his fingers brush against your soaked core.
When his fingers traced over your entrance, you didn't hold back.
Which was great for Bradley, as the desperate moan you let out made his cock twitch.
Of course his fingers were quick and talented, considering his job. You just never considered how it would translate to the bedroom (or kitchen in this case). The first time he thrusted his fingers inside of you, you thought it was a fluke. It had been ages since someone had touched you, which explained why you came so quickly.
But now? You knew better.
Your small kitchen was quickly filled with the sounds of your moans and heavy breathing. Each time his fingers stroked that one spot, you saw stars behinds your eyelids.
How did he find it so quickly?
When his thumb reached up to draw circles on your clit, all you could say was his name over and over again.
Your head felt like cotton, but in a good way. Maybe he could feel the heat radiating off of your body, but for once you didn't care. A particularly hard yank of his locks earned you a low, guttural growl from Bradley, making your walls clench around his fingers.
His free hand quickly found the sides of your neck, squeezing just enough to make a broken wail fall from your lips.
You were fucking gorgeous like this, ears teary from pleasure, lips parted. Bradley had a strong feeling there was more than what you had initially shown him. But that strong wall of reservation had broken down over time. Seeing you like this was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there.
"Br-Bradley," you barely got out, as he changed the angle of his hand, his fingers now able to thrust deeper inside you. Fuck, were you hearing yourself? Did he make you that wet?
It was absolutely certain.
"Yeah?" His voice was smooth like honeyed wine, "You gonna come for Mrs. Bradshaw?"
Fuck.
All at once it hit you like a tidal wave. Your hips jerked erratically, desperate to get as much of his fingers as possible, trying to ride out the wave as much as possible.
Thank god he didn't stop. You were addicted to the pure bliss that was running through your veins. No worries, seeds of doubt miles away. All you could focus on was the gorgeous man in front of you who was making you see stars.
You could process what he said later.
For now, you just rode it out.
"So fucking pretty like this," He rasped in your ear, fingers continuing their ministrations, "Y'know that?" All you could do was weakly nod, sensitivity beginning to overtake your body as you were pulled back to that pleasurable edge.
"Yeah, you're my pretty girl. All mine." The declaration made your head spin.
"A-All yours-Bradley!"
This time when you came, your hands clutched the soft fabric of his shirt, clinging onto him for dear life. Second orgasms were really a thing? You always thought that your inability to experience it in the past indicated that something was wrong with you.
You were beginning to learn the problem wasn't always you.
When he pulled out, his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you in for a hug. Bradley quietly rocked you back and forth, pressing soft kisses to your temple.
"You good Birdie girl?" He asked, the smile evident in his voice.
You nodded, a dozy grin appearing on your face, "Yeah I just-wow. Never came twice before. Thought it was a myth or something."
"I think you've just been with shit people," Bradley stated, feeling comfortable enough to finally address it.
"I think you're right," your arms around his waist and your head settled against his chest.
"I-sorry about what I said earlier," Bradley muttered.
Oh yeah. That was something to talk about.
"The Mrs. Bradshaw thing?" you asked.
Heat rushed to Bradley's cheeks as he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, "Yeah....I'm sorry if that weirded you out. You were just really pretty-I mean you're always pretty-"
"It's not the first time you've called me that." You felt calm talking about it. Part of that was seeing Bradley visibly nervous.
You did what you would have wanted someone to do. You take his hands into yours, giving them a gentle squeeze as you looked up at him with a soft smile.
"I mean it. I don't mind at all. It was actually....sweet but also kinda hot," you admitted, feeling heat rise to your face.
Bradley raised an eyebrow, "Oh really?"
You playfully rolled your eyes, "Oh God are you going to use this against me?"
"Absolutely I am." Before you could even protest, Bradley had already picked you up.
"C'mon Mrs. Bradshaw, I'm far from done with you."
204 notes · View notes
judithhhh · 7 days
Text
open up (one-shot)
jude x reader
summary: the long months without seeing your boyfriend, jude, ends when he shows up at your door uninvited
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it had been way too long since you had seen your boyfriend. for sure, you knew that living a ocean away from him was going to be difficult but you still found yourself scrolling through jude's profile like a fan, his posts making you feel a bit closer to him. you were were laying in bed when you noticed he had just posted a new story.
_________________________________________
instagram
judebellingham posted on their story
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messages
you
sent a screenshot*
you look sixty
jude 🩷
ouch
you
where you at tho, i don't recognize the background
nd ur localisations off
jude 🩷
you're such a stalker
idk why it's off must be a bug or sum
you
ik ur cheating on me jude victor bellingham
jude 🩷
love you too baby
_________________________________________
for the next few hours, jude was completely offline, his location still not showing on your phone. you weren't a possessive girlfriend, well not really, but long distance took a tool on you and a part of your brain couldn't help but think of the what ifs. judes inactivity making you overthink even more, what if he was at a girls house or at one of his shady friends parties.
wanting to clear off your mind a bit, you changed to go take a walk but stopped yourself when you saw the massive snowstorm happening outside. snow in april really? you huffed and snuggled back into bed opting to take a nap instead. when you woke up a few hours after, you saw that jude had texted you.
_________________________________________
messages
jude 🩷
you told me canada was cold but a snowstorm in mid april rlly? wtf
you
try being in the middle of it love, im literally unable to leave the house
jude 🩷
well you're gonna have to soon babyyy
you
what..?
jude 🩷
idk i just have a feeling
you
you're acting really weird today 🤔
jude 🩷 liked the message*
few hours after...
instagram notification
jude bellingham added a photo to their story
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caption : [📍🇨🇦 ]
youruser replied to their story
JUDE WHAT!!!!
judebellingham
open the door im freezing 😕
_________________________________________
you rushed to the door, phone still in hands, praying that this wasn't a prank or a dream. when you opened it, the sight of jude almost entirely covered by a big coat, nose slightly red and baggage in hand greeted you. immediately you launched yourself into his arms, almost sobbing into his neck.
"what are you doing here?" you barely managed to tell him between your tears
"come on stop crying i wanna see that smile of yours" he said smiling, even if you still heard the emotion in his voice
jude detached himself from you to remove his coat and shoes before dragging you two to your couch. he laid down and pulled you on top of him, his cold hands snaking under your shirt. you two talked for a long time, about his life in madrid, your relationship and so much more. his hand stroking your back and his scent all around you soothed your mind, making you slowly fall asleep in his arms. jude didn't notice your slowed breathing and almost closed eyes, too focused on the words spilling out of his mouth.
" and i really missed you yk, i mean it's nice scoring all these goals and the people there but it's not the same with you so far away..."
his sweet words was the last thing you heard before completely passing out on top of him. jude looked down on your face and smiled, engrossed in the details of your face he had missed so much.
when you woke up, you were in your bed. you panicked seeing that jude was not beside you, but then you heard the soft music and jude's questionable singing coming from the kitchen. you stretched before joining him. he was infront of the stove making some breakfast when you sneaked behind him, hugging his waist and pressing a kiss on his neck.
"slept well?" he asked in a soft voice
"mmh, sorry for falling asleep, i wish we could have talked more"
"im here for the week baby, we have plenty of time to talk" he said before reaching down to kiss your forehead.
"the whole week really?!" you exclaimed, the happy news surprising you
jude only hummed happily as he made you two a plate of a typical english breakfast. you sat beside him on the couch, maybe a bit too close than necessary but you had missed him a lot. quickly you started rambling about all the things you wanted to show him around your city, as he half listened, too focused on glancing at you.
judebellingham
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liked by youruser, jobebellingham and 4.356.782 others
judebellingham we're back ❄️🤍
tagged: youruser
view all comments
youruser missed youuu
judebellingham i love u
youruser stay in canada pls
judebellingham too cold sorry
jobebellingham how are u surviving this weather
youruser he almost died tripping on ice 🤣
judebellingham LIES
user729 they're so cute stop
user738 why is it snowing it's spring
user274 that should be me holding your hand🎶
370 notes · View notes
rosie-writings · 16 days
Text
For Just a Moment I'm Whole Again
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Request: anon—ghost!Reader falls in love with Colby
Summary: ghost!Reader finds out that her twin flame is Colby who was born decades after she died, and upon meeting him for the first time, she needs his help to usher her on to the afterlife to be free from the purgatory she roams.
Warnings: ghost!Reader x Colby smut, Age Gap, Bittersweetness, light Angst, Fluff, and Twin Flame relationship
Words: 6.6k
No Y/N Use
Title from 'Calcutta' by Sleep Token
A/N: Technically, Reader is 19 while Colby is 27, however she died nearly thirty years before he was born, so who's older?
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I stopped crying about it a few years ago.
Maybe a decade or two, I wasn’t quite sure. It’s not that I was upset about how I died, I almost forgot the pain of it all, I was upset because out of everywhere I could have died, it was in a house. 
A lonely house.
After I died, apparently my friends were too traumatized to keep the house, so they sold it. I tried to get their attention. Everyday I tried to convince them that purgatory was real and they forced me into it by leaving. What was I supposed to do alone in a house that no one wanted to buy because a death occurred?
When I found out that they also rumored to their realtor that it was haunted, I wanted to slap the lives out of them. Of course it was haunted; that was your best friend trying to get you to look at me for once before I could never see you again—
I cried for years.
No one bought the house.
I slept in the king sized bed in the room upstairs alone and cold.
There was a hotspot in the middle of the house. 
The house was built upon a particular mineral that ushered in traveling ghosts, and the convenient vortex in the center of it aided their arrival. Occasionally I met other ghosts and other inhuman beings that couldn’t care less about me. They probably had millennia of experience navigating the afterlife’s purgatory on earth while I was only a couple decades old.
I think I died in 1971. I couldn’t remember. 
The day this house was bought, I thought I was saved.
Instead, major renovations took place. They ripped the nostalgic wallpapers off the walls and tore out the carpets that my human and ghostly feet were all too familiar with.
”How about you chose an actually appealing pint this time, motherfucker,” I spat at the contractor who walked right through me in the main hallway upstairs. I rolled my eyes and followed him into the primary suite.
Today was the day they renovated my bedroom.
”I wonder how many years it’s been; you look fucking weird. Do all men have that silly ass haircut or something now?” I asked as I sat on top of the ladder in the middle of the room. “Thanks so much for bringing your tool batteries in here. You don’t need those do you?” I felt their powerful buzzing. I felt the electricity waving through the room and I sucked it all up.
With every minute that passed, I felt stronger and stronger, until.
”Oops—“ I sighed in boredom as I knocked a paint can off the top of the ladder.
The worker whirled around with wide eyes and basically looked at me in mine, but he saw through me. I rolled my eyes again.
“You humans are all the fucking same. God, I was so damn embarrassing as a human. Can’t you at least try to talk to me? I’m so fucking—“
His co-worker called his name and walked in the room.
”What the fuck have you done?” The second shouted. White paint pooled on the concrete below me.
”At least you didn’t put floor in yet—“
”It just-It just fell! I didn’t even touch it! I put it up there like 20 minutes ago and-and it just fell!” The second worker grumbled and picked up the emptying can.
”They said there was some poltergeist activity in this house which is why it took fucking 50 years for it to be sold again.”
50 years?
My lack of heart nearly fell through the floor. 
I sat on the ladder looking through them this time. 50 years? I was stuck here for 50 years with nothing to do? No one to talk to? I wanted to cry. Ghost cry sessions weren’t as satisfying as human cry sessions.
I had to get out of here.
I had to—
I stole the energy from all their equipment, but it was still not enough. Even with the electromagnetic energy pulsing through my spirit, the hotspot wouldn’t take me. 
“Come on,” I grumbled. I looked through the vortex and saw spirals and spirals of unveiled spirits traveled through this purgatory called earth, and yet none would grab on to me. What was beyond? “Please! Take me! Get me out of here!” 
I broke down crying again. 
This was the biggest chance I had in order to leave and not even it was enough.
I curled up in the middle of the floor there and cried until I fell asleep.
Later, when the sun was high in the sky and the house was vacant, I woke up. 
As I stood, I appeared in the master bedroom so I could sleep in the bed—
“What the fuck?” I asked to nothing.
The walls were white, the flooring was finished with deep warm floorboards, and the bed frame was a plush cream color with a creamy duvet. 
“They did this fast. I wonder how long I was asleep for.” There was a dresser, two nightstands, and a desk that all matched in a deep brown, practically black, wood finish. “We go 50 years in the future just to be completely devoid of all color. Jesus fuck.” I curled up in the bed regardless. “Oh my god,” I moaned loudly. “Actually, I take all that back. I will give up any color in my life to feel this mattress if only for a second. This is how technology should be used, oh my god…” 
I don’t remember finishing my sentence, I fell unconscious again.
I woke up to the sound of voices. 
I shot to the foyer in a blink of an eye and I saw a family. A mom, a dad, three kids, and a dog, and I nearly cried on sight.
”Hello! Oh my god, yes thank everything good and mighty. You bought this house? I’m not alone anymore!” The dad walked through me. “I’m so excited—Oh my god your dog is so cute!” I fell to my knees in front of the Husky and it howled a talking fit at me, and when I raised my hand to pet it, it ran away from me so fast that it slid across the floor on its nails. “I’m not that scary, I don’t think,” I sighed and stood up again.
There was a girl, probably fifteen or sixteen, who walked right past me with something in her hands.
”Oh what’s that?” I asked as I followed her. The rectangle in her hand illuminated back at her like a TV screen and her thumbs furiously typed on some kind of keyless keyboard. “Holy shit! Is that one of those phones that all the futuristic movies talked about? We have them in the real world now?” I nearly screamed. I plopped into a vacant barstool next to her. “I would have loved that,” I grumbled. I devised a plan to steal it from her in her sleep and play with it all night. 
I watched as she turned it on again.
”A passcode?” I questioned and I was ready to memorize it, but suddenly a blue light scanned down her face and it unlocked by itself. “Now that’s—“ I got out of my seat and backed up from her. “That’s weird. Can that detect ghosts?” 
“Come on! Let’s go in the pool!” I gasped when the younger boy ran right through me and out the backdoor. I smiled when he cannon balled in the pool out back. 
“Lukas! It is 40 degrees outside, get your ass in the house now!” His mother screamed, and I laughed.
“Oh yeah, they put so many cool pool toys in the chest out there,” I told him as I stepped foot outside. “You would love them in the summer though. It’s pretty cold—“
I must have walked too far out of the house, because in a blink of an eye, I teleported back in the middle of the vortex.
”God help me,” I sighed, and I started to devise my game plan to get into that girl’s device in the night.
It wasn’t easy. 
The moon was high in the sky, and I walked in the girl’s bedroom cautiously. Not like she could see me, but I could make noises and I didn’t want to scare her.
Her phone lay on the table next to her bed with a cord coming from it, and she slept soundlessly next to it. I picked it up. 
It illuminated to life and I gasped. I read the time and date.
2:35am, December 20, 2021
”Oh.. my god…” I whispered slowly.
2021? That wasn’t a real year. It had been 50 years that I was—
How was I going to get out of here? I needed out. First I needed this girl’s device. I grabbed it, and when it scanned my face, it said it was the incorrect Face ID.
I pointed it at the girl cautiously, and after a few recalculating aims, it unlocked. I brought it back to me and saw so many colors I didn’t know which to tap first. The entire screen responded to my touch.
I flicked through the squares on the screen and with each one, I read more and more paragraphs about people. It looked like the news or something. I couldn’t believe how amazing this device was at taking photos. 
“I don’t understand,” I whispered. The squares where it seemed like I could communicate with other people intimidated me; I didn't understand who I was talking to so I tried to get out of it and go back to the original place where all the squares were. I accidentally swiped and it moved the screen and I tapped out of it. That was how you got out of it, got it.
I found another app that was red. I clicked it. This time photos with short captions were the only things I scrolled through. After a second, I clicked one to make it larger, but instead, it brought me to another screen and a video began playing.
The audio was so loud and clear, I gasped and tried to figure out how to silence it. The girl disturbed next to me. The button I clicked turned the volume down.
A video played of the same photo I clicked on—
Those weren’t photos, they must have been paused videos or something. I watched and listened and it was actually entertaining. After the video ended, I clicked another.
And then another.
And before I knew it, the sun peeked over the horizon. The time read 7:30am. I had been watching these videos for five hours. 
I put the phone down and walked out of the room. 
I would have loved 2021.
I did it again the next night.
I sat there on the floor against the nightstand and watched more videos. 
Video after video, I started to remember the names of the people who posted them. I didn’t remember the rabbit trail I went down; recommended video after recommended video led me to one that made me stop my jumping around.
It was a video of two idiotic boys messing around in a haunted house.
Now, I never was into haunted or spooky things when I was alive, and being dead now, I would say that I had a pretty large say in and experience in what these boneheads talked about. 
I didn’t expect them to be so respectful. And considerate, too.
I watched as they talked to spirits in the house, and it was startling to watch humans interact with us spirits from their perspective. I forgot that that was all they saw.
I forgot how limited I was when I was trapped in my human skin.
How silly they were; it didn’t matter that they would have been seven years older than I was. Most of the people were children on YouTube, and they were the worst of them. 
Sam and Colby certainly made me laugh, and their means of communicating with ghosts even more so. 
There were some videos that scared me.
I liked the two a lot, and I didn’t want them to get hurt or manipulated by demonic forces. I had seen demonic forces firsthand, and humans were stupid enough to summon them. If I was afraid of them, humans definitely should have been.
The way they assumed everything was as sinister as they did made me laugh the most because the majority of spirits communicated with them were teasing them and cracking jokes. The boys took everything too seriously, but that was why they were so good.
They cared.
But one of them, Colby, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of. It was like I knew him. Warmth spread through me, and for the first time since I died, I was overcome with the need to leave. The pull teased me, beckoned me. 
I was over forty years older than him; I would have never met him, so how did I know him? 
Why did I need him?
I needed someone who cared about me like they did for spirits. I needed a human who cared to come in and help me. Certainly there were other humans out there who could help me like Sam and Colby, but they definitely weren’t as loud or had as much faith as they did in their capabilities. 
I would be lying if I said I didn’t cry when that family left the house two days later. It wasn’t because I would be lonely again but because I couldn’t drown myself in Sam and Colby’s videos. 
Or in Colby’s appearance and voice.
Hopefully someone else would stay for a week and I could use their phones to watch YouTube again.
Two weeks later, the house was booked again.
I finally learned that the house I was trapped in was turned into something called an AirBnb and I supposed that it was a house rented like a hotel. 
The same routine spun into effect.
A new visitor spent the week here, I drained their batteries in everything they brought, I drowned myself in YouTube (to be honest, I drowned myself in the force that was Colby’s voice), and spent endless time spinning around the house in boredom wondering when the human chosen to save me would come.
They would come and help one day, I knew it.
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The front door opened. 
I was out of the bed in a flash and appeared in the foyer to see the new visitors. Two men walked in the house, and I wondered what on earth they were up to for arriving near two in the morning. 
It was three years after I first learned what YouTube and social media was. I was ingrained in the politics, culture, society, and hyper-communicative world that was 2024. 
I toed the fence. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to stay here and live as a free spirit in 2024 forever or be taken into the next spiritual realm. I knew I couldn’t stay forever, and with every year that passed, I felt the fabrics of my spirit being taken away into nothing. 
I needed help.
When I came spirit to face with the two new visiting men, my entire world flipped upside down.
I knew them.
They were the ones with the YouTube channel. 
They were—
”I know we said we would do some stuff before we go to sleep, but I literally—“
”No, I know,” the other sighed. “I’m so tired too. We got here a lot later than we planned.”
”We should just sleep then wake up a bit earlier than we planned to have more time to do what we couldn’t now.” The other nodded lazily.
”Yeah, we can do that.”
”Night, Colby,” said the blond one as he walked up the stairs.
”Night, Sam,” said the one I stood next to in between the foyer and the living room.
If I had a heart, it would have pumped loudly in my ears, and if I had a tongue, it would have dried up. Ever so slowly, I turned and looked at Colby as he pulled things from the backpack he had placed on the couch. His back faced me. 
And I couldn’t control myself, the intrusive thoughts won. I wondered what he would do if I—
At the sound of his water bottle crashing into the hardwood floor, Colby whirled around with wide eyes and watched as it rolled to a stop.
“What the fuck?” He whispered. I gasped when he walked through me. I turned and watched as he picked it up and placed it back on the table. He watched it.
With a smile, I didn’t take my gaze off his face as I knocked it back onto the floor. He took two steps back. 
That was when the realization dawned on me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. When I felt him, when I was near him, it made sense. The pieces shoved together painfully.
“Uh… Sam?” Colby called. 
“What?” He called cautiously as he came from his room. “What’s wrong?”
”I—I swear to god, this water bottle fell off the table deliberately. Like someone knocked it over, twice.”
”Really?” He asked hesitantly when his feet hit his floor. At this point, they both stood in front of me and I crossed my arms in boredom. I was nearly as tall as the two; they were a lot smaller in person.
I was tall for a girl; almost five foot nine.
He placed the water bottle back down.
I stared at it. Humans were so dumb. I watched their anticipation knowing full well I wouldn’t satisfy them. 
“What is happening, I swore it happened and it’s not now which means it’s not like the table is slanted or something.”
”That’s weird,” Sam said. 
“You can go back to bed, sorry—“
”No, you’re fine, stupid,” Sam laughed as he went back.
Of course when he was halfway up the stairs with his back turned I yanked it off the table. Colby already left to the couch though, and so when Sam turned around quickly, he froze when he realized Colby was completely out of reach.
”See? I told you!” Colby cried.
”Oh shit… Yeah I have no idea how to explain that.”
”Wanna get a rem pod and the camera or something?” Colby asked.
“Maybe if something else happens.”
”Okay, okay,” Colby said, and I watched in surprise when Sam walked back to his room. They must have been tired then.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t mess with Colby until he went to sleep.
”You guys are idiots,” I said as if I expected a response. “Are you actually staying up or are you—oh,” I gasped when he turned around and walked through me before I could react. He picked up his bag and walked up the stairs. I sighed. 
“That answers that.”
I peeked around the door. Colby stood in his room. I watched as he situated the things from his backpack. Those were some fancy cameras, small ones for that matter, and it looked like he charged the batteries. My eyes couldn’t pull from his skin though. He only wore his black jeans.
He turned towards me and I watched as he walked to the desk in his room. I intently focused on his face and his tattoos. He was so pretty. But he looked so different. I walked into the room and stood at the desk with him.
”What are these?” I asked and I touched the devices on the desk. Then, I gasped as his hand went through mine. My hand paused and I tried to feel the warmth. What would have been my hand burned with warmth, and I didn’t pull it away. 
Colby froze in his place and stared at his hand. It burned cold.
But then he turned from the table and went back to the bed.
Now, never once in my life have I snooped. I’ve never pried, intruded, or watched anyone when they didn’t think they could be perceived. But I couldn’t leave his room. I froze in my place as I watched when he pulled his pants off. I couldn’t focus on anything else except his body. The way he moved, settled in the room, got in the bed, and plugged his phone in; every decision and every thought process was so painfully human.
I liked him a lot. Too much.
I wanted him to know I was here too. 
The last time I tried to communicate with humans was with my best friends after the accident happened. After, their realtor was a bitch. There was a medium who was more so a dumbass who came to communicate with me. I scared her, and perhaps that went wrong. That might have been why it took so long for this place to be renovated. 
I needed to talk to Colby. I wanted him.
I never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted him.
I stood in front of the desk where the devices were strewn about, and as he read his phone, I touched one of the devices. 
I recognized one. It was a radio of sorts. One of the mediums who tried to communicate with me used it. Perhaps they were here to try to talk to me anyway.
I turned the spirit box on.
Immediately, Colby sat straight up in his bed. His phone was forgotten on the sheets. I laughed and watched as his confused eyes scanned the room.
”Hello,” I laughed. Then I used energy and found the word on a channel—
Hello
Colby looked around the room.
”Um, hi?” He said.
If I had a body, I was pretty sure the feeling I had was akin to my heart falling out of my ass.
“I know who you are, you publish on YouTube, right?”
I know you
Colby’s face turned with distrust. 
“What—Are there actually spirits in this house?” He asked. I rolled my eyes.
”Obviously. You’re so dumb. I thought you know how to talk to us—
Duh…
He scoffed and his shock turned into an amused expression.
”What’s your na—“
Don’t be stupid
He stopped talking and his eyes widened.
”How do you know me? I’ve never been here.”
”You literally have 11 million people watching you on YouTube, don’t be silly,” I sighed.
You make videos
”You’re seen my—“ He gasped and thought for a moment. “How old are you? How long have you been here?”
For a long time
”I’m supposed to be nineteen,” I sighed.
Nineteen
”Nineteen—Holy shit wait, someone—the owners said a nineteen year old died here in the 70s—“
”That was totally me.”
Me
Colby looked at the spirit box on the table and I smiled.
“Yeah,” he gasped nervously. “Are you the only spirit in the house?”
”Only one that lives here, anyway,” I scoffed.
Only one
”I’m sorry you’re alone.” I froze. 
“What did you say?” I asked quietly, timidly. Silence. It defeated me. 
It had been over 50 years since the accident and in all that time, no one apologized.
No one said sorry about my death or that I was alone. Not a single person had the empathy. Colby stared back at the spirit box. His eyes fell from it. He looked around the room in thought.
Suddenly, the urge ever too heavy came over me. 
I glided straight over to him and I sat on the bed.
He shot up with his eyes wide. 
If I had eyes, he would have looked right into them.
”Are-Are you on the bed with me?”
”Yes,” I confidently said and tried to use all my energy to tell the spirit box—
Yes… On this bed…
”Holy shit,” Colby whispered. 
I felt the way his heart skipped.
The way his skin lit on fire.
I moved forward, and when I did, his skin fell cold.
”Did-Did you just touch me?” 
“I’m on top of you.”
And it was true. I straddled him. I held his face in my lack of hands, and the warmth coursed through me like an electrical current. I needed him. He tethered me back into reality; the human world. That urge and that desperation to move onto the spirit realm died the moment I touched him.
Top
”You’re on me?” He rested his weight on his hands behind him. When he pushed his hips forward, a gasp left me because I felt the pressure. 
Familiarity.
“I remember you, Colby. I know you, we knew each other—‘
Colby
”Why did you say my—“
I know you
“You know—oh shit,” he gasped. My vision hazed. My perception of my surroundings grew blurry as if I was about to sleep.
Heat coursed my body, and I held onto him to keep from falling asleep.
”You feel really good,” I gasped. I didn’t think about this.
We knew each other
“What?” He gasped as his body went rigid. Sexual things were so far from me. I figured that when I moved onto the spirit realm, more doors to explore sexuality would open. I never came across another human I viewed as desirable like him. 
I never came across a human or spirit that felt as familiar as he was.
I knew he already had two female ghosts who liked him and messed around with him.
Good
”What’s good?” He gasped again. This time, it sounded like he was more breathless than anything.
”You.”
You
”Is that you making me feel like this? Are you touching me?” I moaned when I thrusted against him over and over. “Holy fuck—I just got so… What am I even doing?” Colby sighed more so to himself and then he laid himself back down against the bed. I gasped when he moved through me. 
I looked down at him as his forearm rested across his forehead. His face was flushed and eyes were closed in thought.
I couldn’t deny the pressure under me. I knew he was painfully hard under me, but I had no intention of leaving or letting him do it himself. I looked down and couldn’t look away from his body. It was on fire, and the pressure in his underwear grew and grew.
I wish I could feel him for real with my hands and my skin. 
“Holy fuck,” he moaned this time, and I moaned as well. He sounded so good like this. “I feel so crazy. Please tell me this is you doing this to me and not me—“
”I’m doing it. I’m touching you, Colby. Let me touch you.” Colby moaned again and again as I thrusted against him. 
It’s me
His eyes shot open again.
Let me touch you
“Fuck, okay—holy shit—okay you’re-you’re actually real.”
”Yes,” I laughed. “I want to see you feel good.” 
“If you’re actually real, get off of me and make me stop feeling like this—“
I was on the other side of the room in an instant. Colby sat up with a flushed face. 
“What the fuck,” he whispered. I felt as the arousal in his body diminished. “And…” He mumbled hesitantly. “And if you’re real, get on top of me. Turn me on again.”
I blinked and I straddled Colby’s lap. 
“Holy fucking—ugh.” And his head tossed into the pillow and eyes rolled back.
”Fuck,” I gasped as I watched him throw his arm across his mouth to conceal his moans.
Immediately, his arousal built again, and I thrusted against him over and over.
”You’re making me—Oh my god, don’t stop please,” Colby gasped. 
You feel good
”Fuck,” he gasped.
He looked up at me and I swore he saw me. He didn't look through me, and I wished I could touch him.
Kiss him.
”You’re going to make me come.”
“Oh my god yeah, I want to see you come,” I mumbled. I would resurrect myself from the dead just to kill myself again if he knew I said that so I tried to hold in the energy. I didn’t want the music box to pick up on anything.
I tried to pull his underwear down. It was too difficult, too heavy. I was too tired. My gaze flashed around the room.
His phone. 
I focused my energy on his phone and took the energy from it. The strength boiled and boiled in my being until I opened my eyes and watched as the waistband of it ever so slightly pulled back.
”Oh my fucking god—“ Colby gasped, and I cried out in surprise when he sat up straight and kicked himself away from me. “You-You fucking pulled—Are you trying to take my underwear off? Oh my god—You’re fucking real. You really are—“
“Colby it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you I want to make you feel good—“
Don’t be scared
”What?” He gasped and whirled his gaze to the spirit box.
Make you feel good
“I’m—“ he paused. He looked around the room. “I’m not scared. I can’t believe you’re communicating so well with me.”
”I’m taking power from your phone,” I said towards the spirit box.
This cell phone
Colby looked back to the spirit box.
”My phone?”
Using energy
”Oh, you’re taking the energy from my phone? Let me plug it in so you can take as much as you want—“
Yes
”Okay—“ He groaned as he leaned over and plugged it in. He left it on the table next to the bed. I didn’t give him another second to say a sentence. I pushed down against him and he drew in an uneven breath. “I can’t believe I can feel you.”
”Can you feel this?” I grinded down on him, and his arm caught another moan behind his mouth.
“Holy shit—I think I felt-I felt that. I’m so—oh my god!” I pulled at his underwear again, and this time, I pulled it halfway down. “I’m so…” He sighed into a moan, and I felt the way heat traveled down his body. His temperature rose, and I couldn’t look away. Not a second passed that I didn’t utterly consume the image of his real life human body under me.
I pushed again and again, and before his hand could reach into his underwear, he gasped a rather louder moan and spilled in the fabric. 
I quickly tried to pull it back again, and this time, his underwear pulled halfway off. 
“Oh my god—“ I gasped as I watched the rest of his fluids cover his stomach.
”You just fucking—You actually took them off,” he gasped breathlessly as he gathered himself together after his orgasm.
Pleasure washed through me as well, but it wasn’t as tangible as it used to be when I was alive. I was on fire, and I wanted more, anything more, but it was impossible here.
Then the tug.
I wanted to move on.
It was as if this window of pleasure piqued my interest, and I knew that if I moved onto the spiritual realm, I could live again. I wouldn’t be trapped in this purgatory.
Colby was so cute though. He was familiar; he looked like he was mine. We were each other’s. I wanted him to myself, but there was no way I could take him with me. He needed to finish living as a human first.
Then maybe I would hunt him down and rescue him from his purgatory so he wouldn’t have to live like this for 50 years like me.
“Did you leave?” Colby whispered.
”No. I’m right here.”
Here
“Okay,” he sighed and relaxed into the pillow. “I can’t believe I just had sex with a ghost—wait,” he gasped and looked around the room. “Did I fuck you? That’s so—What the fuck…”
“No, I just touched you. I wanted you to feel good. I can’t feel good until I move on.”
No… For you… I don’t feel good
”What?” Colby gasped. “You don’t feel good?”
”I can’t.”
Can’t
”Oh, because… Is sex only for human bodies then?”
”No,” I said, and reminded myself to be concise for the spirit box
No
”When I escape I can feel something again.”
When I escape
”You’re trapped here?” Colby gasped. The gears turned in his head and excitement welled in me.
”Help me out, please.”
Help me
”Help you do what? Do you need to move on?”
”Yes! Help me to the spiritual world.”
Yes
”Where do you need me to—”
Spirit world
”Holy shit,” Colby whispered. “You want me to help move you out of purgatory? Is that what this house is for you?’
”Yes!” I exclaimed. 
He understood!
Yes
”Well then I’m getting up and telling Sam.”
If I had a body, I would scream and cry for joy.
Also, if I had a body, it would burn alive at the sight of Colby cleaning himself up, so I left the room and waited in the hallway with welling excitement. 
“You’ll actually use the spirit box and not make me look like a freak in front of him, right?”
”Yeah, I’ll talk to him,” I laughed.
Yes
”Good,” he scoffed as he pulled on clothes. 
“I promise.”
”Dude, that’s crazy if it’s true.” I watched as Colby told Sam what had happened and conveniently left out the part where I touched him. If he didn’t want Sam to know, then I wouldn’t expose him in that way. “Let’s see if she actually communicates as accurately as that,” Sam said as he turned on the spirit box. “Would we need to try the Estes?”
”Maybe we can,” Colby sighed. “There was a vortex downstairs, did you see it?”
”No I didn’t actually,” he gasped. “Do you want to do Estes there?”
“I’m getting bored,” I grumbled.
Let’s hurry it up
”Whoa!” Sam cried when the box spat those words out at him.
”Yeah,” Colby laughed. “She isn’t very patient.”
“Are you trapped here like Colby sai—“
”Yes!”
Yes
”Oh my god.”
”I told you!” I watched the boys as they grabbed their things. “Let's do it now.”
And as they walked through me towards the staircase, I froze with realization upon feeling Colby's body. It ached with excitement, nervousness, and…
Longing?
I followed them and listened to his heart and the rushing of his blood. Something tuned to desperation flowed with it. 
It would have been much easier for me to navigate life as a human if I could feel someone’s physical attraction to me like I could feel Colby’s. I didn’t think that was possible, especially since he couldn’t see me. For all I knew, they could still be on the fence about believing that I existed.
But I couldn’t deny the way he felt. The way Sam felt. Sam didn’t hear me or feel me the way Colby did, but I could tell by the warmth of his palms and the racing of his heart that he didn’t linger in denial anymore. 
“I’m not even sure how to start this,” Sam said as he sat in the chair. He volunteered himself to be under the Estes method so that Colby could lead the interaction. I stood next to Sam in the middle of the vortex; the darkened mirrors holding endless hypnotizing space hung on either side of us. 
“I know, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out when we get there. I’m pretty sure I just encourage her to move on and she uses energy or something. We’ll see.”
Sam pulled the blindfold down. Headphones placed over his ears. 
I felt the energy from the spirit box shrill to life.
“Did you follow us down here?”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “I’m here.”
“Here,” Sam’s monotone voice spoke for me.
“Okay good.” Colby’s voice softened. I wanted to leave, I wanted it more than anything, but I also wished I had more time to listen to Colby, to be close to him. Every time I was near him, I zapped with electricity; a desperation I never knew. What would it be like if I was human? If we knew each other back then? What would it be like if we were born at the same time in the same state?
“Why are you afraid to move on?”
“I—All this time I wasn’t afraid, I just didn’t want to leave the human world, but now I can’t leave you. I want to stay with you, Colby.”
“Oh wow…” Sam muttered. 
“What?” Colby said quickly.
“That was a long—Those were a lot of words,” he laughed sheepishly. “Um…” I repeated what I said but paraphrased it to make it easier for the box to pick me up. “I wasn’t afraid of it.”
“You aren’t?” Colby gasped. “Why haven’t you—”
“Missed people.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Let me stay with you.”
“What?” Colby paused this time. “So you didn’t move on because you missed people and now you want to stay with us? Is it because you haven’t talked to anyone except for us—”
“No,” I grumbled. “I want you, Colby. No one else.”
“You, Colby.”
“Me?” He whispered. “Why do you want to stay with me? You can’t do that. You need to move on–”
“I wish we had time together then you would understand.” I wished that I could cry like humans did at that moment. I cried, but no pressure relieved me.
“We could have had more time.” Colby’s body froze as he stared in shock at Sam. Or maybe he stared through him. He wanted something to look at; he couldn’t see me. I wished I could reveal myself to him, but I didn’t know how.
“Why do you want us to have more time?”
“Because we would have been together. I could have actually probably loved you.”
“I would have…. I didn’t catch— Love you.”
“I would have loved you…” Colby whispered. “It’s too late,” he told me, but the quietness of his voice sounded like he figured it out for himself. 
“I can see you again, Colby.”
“See you again… Colby, dude it keeps saying your name.”
“I know,” Colby spoke absentmindedly. He looked like he was in a trance more than Sam was even though he rocked back and forth in the Estes method. “Are—Do you know me?”
“Maybe in a past life. We can find each other in the next.”
“Past life.”
“Holy shit.” His voice was quiet and I wanted nothing more than to hug him. I stood face to face with him in the blink of an eye. 
“I will see you soon, Colby.”
And I kissed him.
He blinked quickly and warm surprise flooded me when he licked his lips once.
“See you soon.” He didn't know what to say. I felt the tension in his throat.
“Don’t cry. Now tell me to leave and then you can find me when you’re done living here.”
“Help me leave.” Colby shook his head.
“No–”
“Please help me, Colby. I need to go on. You can’t stay here forever. I’ll be able to see you still and you’ll be able to feel me until one day you’ll see me for the first time. Well, for the first time in this timeline. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Please help me… You will still… I didn’t hear—Oh, You’ll still feel me.”
“I—I don’t like—”
“It’s okay, don’t be scared.” I stood in the vortex again. “Help me leave. I’ll see you later.”
“Don’t be scared. Help me leave.” 
“Okay,” Colby said as he shook himself out of it. “It’s alright, you can move on. Spirits leave this house, move on to the next life.”
That tug returned, but now it was unavoidable. The mirrors lulled me into a beckoning trance.
“Move on and be free from this house.”
The mirror pulled me in, the house was unreachable now.
“Love you.”
As Sam pulled off the blindfold, Colby’s eyes darted towards mine from where I traveled through the mirror, and from the look on his face—the pure focus on me, drift of his tear filled eyes across my face—he saw me.
Then all I saw was light.
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A/N: I took a much needed break. Not to info or trauma dump, but my mom moved about four hours away from me a week ago, and I only found out three weeks before that. After helping her move, it's been pretty hard for me since we've only ever lived at most 10 minutes from each other. Thanks for being patient, and I'm going to hop back on that writing grind because I miss it!
Also, Comment if you would rather read multi-chapter fics on Tumblr or Ao3. This will help me navigate where to post if I do not cross post.
✧˖*°࿐
Taglist (Comment to be added):
@a-random-google-user
@graceciesiels22
@honestlybabymiracle
@xxsecretscenekidxx
@thedeadlynights
@glittervame
@rockwyu
@worldlxvlys
@benbarnesprettygurl
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Note
WARMMORNINGSJAMSWARMMORNINGSJAMS
(Warm mornings with jams please)
👀👀👀👀👀👀
Warm Mornings; Jamil Viper
Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, established relationship
Word Count; 650+
Author's Note; I was possessed by this vision and I hope that you go into cardiac arrest because of it. Translation for a term of endearment will be at the bottom!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
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Jamil slowly blinked his eyes, waking up from a dream; a dream that he was visiting one of the Al-Asim’s many vacation homes, the one by the coast. A dream that you were by his side, smiling at him as you excitedly went through all of the rooms. But it wasn’t a dream, he knew that when he saw the driftwood ceiling, and saw your sleeping form next to him.
The Sun was just peeking out from the horizon, golden rays turning the ocean a warm amber, coming through the open shutters and illuminating dust clouds that drifted in the light breeze. 
If Jamil were back in his dorm, or at the Al-Asim estate, he would have already started his day. He would have been making breakfast for Kalim and their lunches as well. He would have been rushing and worrying. But he didn’t have to do that here, he didn’t need to do anything. He could relax.
Sighing, he turns over to face you, and breathes out a silent laugh. Apparently, yesterday had been pretty tiring, since you had dried up drool on your face, and some light snores escaped your mouth every so often. It was a side that he hadn’t really had the opportunity to witness or enjoy. And to Jamil, there was nothing more precious or stunning in his eyes, drool and all. 
You shuffled in your sleep and Jamil froze, fearing that you had caught him in the act of admiring you. He didn’t want you to wake up and find him staring at you. He didn’t want you to think that he was being weird, or breaking some unsaid boundary. But you stayed asleep, and a particularly loud snore escaped from you, which nearly made Jamil snort, almost.
Jamil took one last look at you before deciding it was best to get up and slowly start his day. He sat on the edge of the bed for a bit, taking a mental screenshot of your sleeping face. And before he knew what he was doing, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. He didn’t overthink it, and a flare of panic did spring up, but he smothered it just as quickly as it had arisen. What did he have to worry about? There was nothing to worry about. He could be himself here, without worrying about others prying in or interrupting him. But enough dilly-dallying around. He may not be on the clock, but since he was awake, Jamil wanted to start his day.
So, as Jamil got ready for whatever this day may bring, he occasionally checked in on you. He also knew around what time you naturally woke up at, so while he waited for you to awaken from your slumber, he started preparing breakfast for the both of you. Well, your favourite breakfast. 
While he was cooking, he felt your arms latch around his waist, and the weight of your head resting on his back. “Sleep well, habib albi?” Jamil asked, turning down the heat of the stove so your meal wouldn’t burn.
You hummed, “Slept like a rock. Could have slept longer, but it’s warm and I was getting sticky and gross… I probably look like a mess.” You burst out into laughter, imagining the state you must have been in when Jamil woke up who knows how long ago.
“No,” Jamil turned around, still with your arms around his waist, “you never looked better.”
He looked at you with so much softness, love, and vulnerability, that you could have sworn that your heart stopped. Jamil looked ethereal in the gentle, warm, amber rays of sunlight that filtered through the linen curtains. Yet, he was looking at you the same, despite the dried-up drool, frumpled pyjamas, and sleep-crusted eyes.
“Jamil?”
He hummed, prompting you to continue.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
And he smiled at you, a soft, love-filled smile. “Habib albi, you don’t have to,” and he placed a small kiss on your lips. “I know.”
You sighed happily, resting comfortably against his chest. This morning had been warm in more ways than one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*habib albi; love of my heart (edit; it's a masc term but at the time I thought it was g/n; femme term is habibit)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags; @krenenbaker @leonistic @xxoomiii @eynnwwyjth @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996
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violettelueur · 1 year
Text
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𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 — 𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌
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SUMMARY. alhaitham doesn't care about the roaming rumours about him at all. he would say the strength of his character is that he doesn't get affected by what people think about him, yet there are some things he does get worried about, especially when it came to be about you
CHARACTER(S). alhaitham
PRONOUNS. gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)
TW/CONTEXT. mention of sensual activities, relationship worries, small tiny angst if you squint, grammar/spelling issues
AUTHOR NOTE. the ending feels a little incomplete to me but i really wanted to post this since it's been a while since i have written something. also, it's so weird to come back to tumblr and see a little drama going on...makes me want to back into hibernation. also this piece is for alhaitham coming home to me four times and a thank you for this weapon coming home as well ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆
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Alhaitham wasn’t the type to worry about mundane things. Rather, he would simply ignore them and go along with his day as if nothing happened, never letting it plague his mind or, he simply didn’t hear anything at all when he had his soundproof earpieces on. However, even though he says he doesn’t worry about anything at all as life already has many hardships, when it comes to comments about you…sometimes, he does tend to worry a little bit.
“Do you think I’m overwhelming?”
Upon hearing the deep voice, your eyes slowly began to open before blinking away the drowsiness that had nearly consumed you, noticing how you were currently relaxing on your boyfriend’s couch and that same boyfriend, who was currently seated beside your head, brushing away the straying strands of hair to make sure he didn’t accidentally sit on them.
“What do you mean by that?” you quietly asked, before ushering him to sit comfortably as you wanted to place your head upon his lap, to which Alhaitham happily obliged upon noticing how your smile brightened once you had found a suitable position to place your head on.
“Do you think I’m too much?” Alhaitham seriously queried, causing you to confusingly peek up at the Acting Grand Sage, who was currently running his fingers through your hair, as if to not only help you relax, but to also help calm himself down from the anticipation of your pending answer.
“I do not think you are overwhelming at all, matter of fact, I think you are comforting,” you answered with a small smile as you weaved your arms around his leg like it was some sort of pillow before closing your eyes again, thinking this section of the conversation was over.
“Are you sure?” Alhaitham questioned immediately after, as he began to trace the shape of your ear leading you to internally shiver at the feeling, “do I make you happy…am I the right partner for you?”
Perplexed at his sudden interrogation, you opened your eyes once again before slowly turning on to your back, peering up to notice how his face was still as stoic as ever, yet there was a glint of uncertainty in his beautiful eyes. His hand now gently stroking your cheek, tracing little letters upon the surface on your skin, as if he was trying to convey the thoughts in his mind to you before you placed your hand on top of his while nuzzling into his inner palm. “You always make me happy,” you responded earnestly. “Physically, emotionally, in every way you make me so happy.”
“Physically?” Alhaitham replied with a teasing tone.
“Oh? So, you’re going to act like we never slept together?” you shot back while glaring at him, “from what I recall, you are the one with the insatiable drive in this relationship.”
Quickly forgetting his worries from before, Alhaitham couldn’t help but recall the first time you both had met. You both were students enrolled in the Akademiya and both studying in the same darshan, yet looking back, he didn’t see you in class much - you would argue that was because he never really came to class. However, he does remember the first time you both bumped into each other in the House of Daena, when you were both looking for the same material needed for your research. You were pretty quiet and somewhat shy since you didn’t meet his gaze when you apologised. Although, as time went by, he immediately noticed how you were usually studying alone night after night and how much you hated group projects when he saw you surrounded by other students doing nothing but chatting while you were researching everything to make sure the project was successful. After noticing the annoyance on your face after the lecturer announced another group project he started coming into class to see you more, but he would never admit it due to his pride, he took it upon himself to become partners with you (much to your surprise) and since then, you never really paired up with anyone else.
When your relationship processed into something romantic, Alhaitham remembered how red-faced you got whenever he initiated a kiss behind the bookshelves or how you would turn away from his gaze when he would take hold of your hand behind his back, out of plain sight away from the other students. Now the Acting Grand Scribe didn’t have much to any experience when it came to romance, yet he didn’t think you would be as bashful as you were during the beginning stages. Yet, eventually, you became more confident in what you wanted. If you wanted a kiss, he would happily give you one, if you wanted to kiss him, you would find him anywhere in Sumeru to give him one. If you wanted a hug, Alhaitham would pull you onto his lap to let you indulge in his warmth and comfort however long you wanted. If you wanted to submit to your desires, Alhaitham would gladly give you the pleasure you had craved for and if he had to be honest, his appetite for you will probably never be satisfied and if he could, he would make you stay in bed forever, where the two of you would never be disturbed.
“What’s gotten into you, why are you asking all these questions?” you asked in concern, as you sat up to get a clearer view of your lover, who was disappointed in your sudden lack of touch, only to be delighted once again when you took a seat on his lap before wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I just heard from some people that I might be ‘too much’ and that I’m suffocating you in this relationship,” Alhaitham explained while pulling you closer to him, as if he was trying to keep you from running away from him (as if you ever would). 
“When were you the type to worry about what people say about you?” you questioned before placing your hand on his cheek to comfort him to which he instantly nuzzled into your inner palm, while inhaling a faint scent he could get from your handcream.
“I don’t care about those who talk about me, what I do care if those concerns are to do with anything about you,” your lover responded.
“My love,” you softly called out before placing a kiss upon his other cheek, “I am and have been the happiest person in all of Teyvat ever since you came into my life.”
Alhaitham, who was used to conveying his feelings in a factual manner, was now comfortably silent as he tightened his hold on you once again, before hiding his face in your neck.
“You don’t know, do you? Do you know how much I love and adore you? Alhaitham, you are my heart. Archons, you are the most hardest and yet the most easiest person to love, because it’s impossible for me not to love you,” you proclaimed with glassy eyes, having no idea why you were getting so emotional. “I cherish you so much and that scares me because how am I supposed to properly function if you chose to leave?”
“By eating a balanced meal every day and keeping healthy,” Alhaitham answered softly, causing you to giggle at his reposone, while also shaking your head at the slight disbelief that he had the audacity to say that after your emotional confession. However, you understood that this was his way of going back to his rational mindset as you felt him smile upon your shoulder before he pressed a light kiss upon your cheek, kissing away the tear that somehow escaped.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the Scribe repeated as he slowly leaned back onto the couch, while comforting you in his tight embrace to gently calm you down from your sudden emotional state, allowing you to firmly hold onto him, as if he was going to let you go anytime soon.
Alhaitham wasn’t the type to worry about mundane things. As mentioned before he would rather simply ignore them and go along with his day as if nothing happened, never letting it plague his mind…well, that is no lie nor was it ultimately the truth. When it came to the simplest things about you, Alhaitham would be the first one to know and attentively listen to anything of concern when it came to you. Your happiness was his priority and the knowledge he had wished to gain can be an afterthought. Right now and maybe to the end of his time, you were also his heart.
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© violettelueur 2023 - all rights are reserved to violettelueur. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarise, translate or screenshot my work : this will also include other social media/writing platforms like AO3, Wattpad, TikTok and many more.
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obsessedwrhys · 5 days
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader
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t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!
ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3
HOMELANDER
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This man hates you so fking much
Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague
Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you
However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.
He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"
Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.
You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.
"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.
"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"
"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"
"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.
Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.
He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.
"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.
He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.
"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"
"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"
Compatibility? 50%
STARLIGHT
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Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.
When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.
"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"
"Uh..."
You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.
"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"
Insert her groaning out of annoyance.
Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(
"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"
Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.
"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.
In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.
It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.
Compatibility? 60%
QUEEN MAEVE
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You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning
Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions
"Deadpool! The hostages!"
"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"
Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)
Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.
There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.
Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.
Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.
Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.
Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.
You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?
Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'
Compatibility? 80%
THE DEEP
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Your human punching bag
If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.
For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.
Just imagine him staring at you like 😐
To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.
"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"
"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"
You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.
Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.
"Happy April Fools 😚!"
"That's next month dipshit!"
Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.
"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.
Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.
Compatibility? 5%
A-Train
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He thinks you're fucked up in the head.
Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF
Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.
You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.
Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.
Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.
"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"
"Dude... seriously?"
You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.
"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"
"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"
You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.
But it's fine you'll just grow back.
You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.
Compatibility? 55%
TRANSLUCENT
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He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.
There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.
At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.
You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.
The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.
Never again, he thought, never again.
He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.
Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.
You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.
After all, he can read people well.
You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky
There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.
It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.
"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"
"You get used to it"
Compatibility? 85%
BLACK NOIR
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Lovers.
He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.
No seriously... he can't talk.
But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.
"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.
You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.
He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.
Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.
He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.
"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"
You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.
Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.
"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"
He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.
He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.
"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.
You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.
One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.
You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.
Compatibility? 90%
(This took a while cause I was on vacation)
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celaenaeiln · 9 months
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Please talk more about B & D’s “unable to be defined/labeled dynamic/relationship as it encompasses many labels yet at the same time cannot be fitted to just one label” dynamic 🙏
I'd be delighted to!!
Link to original post
In the previous post I had included a panel where Bruce is referred to Dick as his "surrogate father, mentor, friend, and partner." These words could not be more different from each other and while they should not be used in conjunction with each other, they have never suited these two people more. In fact I don't there is any character pairing in any fandom that has the same dynamic that these two have. Dick and Bruce's relationship has a complicated depth to it that Bruce and the rest of his children don't have.
I think the most confusing thing is when Bruce constantly confuses Dick being a son and a partner.
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First thing I want to start off with is that Dick and Bruce used to sleep in beds so close together it looks like one bed. In the 1950's this arrangement was known as the "twin beds" which were typically used for married couples. Children slept in a separate bedroom which begs the question why Dick and Bruce had a sleeping arrangement similar to that of marriage partners. This is the first weird thing about their relationship.
Not to mention, the romantic boat rides they used to take together. But was this normal then between father and son or is it just a romantic thing now, I don't know. As well as when they decided bronzing themselves naked next to each other. Not really sure what was going on there, if it was acceptable during that time or what but I do know that the reason that creators decided to send Dick to college in 1970 was because they wanted to beat the gay batman and robin allegations. It's weird as hell that they even came up with these ideas. Also the robin crossdressing. For justice, am I right?!
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I feel these instances are important because it breaks any barriers they have between them. They're so (platonically for me) intimate that there's nothing but each other in their souls. One of the key reasons that their relationship is vague and intense and encompassing.
Dick is also considered Bruce's partner intellectually.
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Instead of Dick listening to Bruce and following behind, as it's often shown in robin comics, they talk on equal terms. There's other moments of this shown too:
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I think this is the reason why Bruce considers Dick a partner. He's not only exceedingly intelligent, but he even at a young age he's able to keep up with Bruce's thought process as an equal when even the justice league and other major adult heroes fail to do. Bruce's inventions are Dick's inventions because they played an equal role in creating them. This is why he's called the Prodigal Son.
Now onto him being a best friend and a son mix.
We know the classic example of Dick expecting to be Bruce's best man and Bruce thinking the same. But there are other moments that indicate that too.
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But it isn't one sided because Dick also sees Bruce as his best friend:
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Dick punching Bruce in the throat and single handedly carrying him like a sack of potatoes is just funny as hell.
Also including the fact that Dick and Bruce embody sleepover, besties behavior:
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BUT HERE'S WHERE IT GETS JUICY.
Having your child act as your bestfriend is terrible for your child's mental health.
I'm speaking from personal experience but when your parent trauma dumps their life onto you at a young age, you mature emotionally much faster than you're supposed. You start becoming aware of people's thoughts and emotions at a deeper level and you start attuning yourself to others. In layman's terms: you change yourself to be able to meet your parent's high expectations and act as an emotional sponge for their anger, sorrow, disappointment, and frustration about their own life.
I'm not hesitant to admit that Dick's manipulation tactics most likely stem from this behavior. He knows what he wants and he will do anything to get it. This doesn't mean he's a bad person though. In fact I give him the highest level of respect of any character because all his intentions are good. He doesn't cheat, lie, or trick people into killing themself or harming others or bringing them down. He does it to make their lives better which is-I'm sorry, I don't have the proper words to express the multitudes of emotion I'm feeling for that.
(I nearly went into a massive monologue about how other people view his manipulation but that's for another post. )
This is also where things get complicated, and why we know Bruce and Dick as the way they are.
Dick has become so emotionally and mentally adept that he's able to pick up on others' thoughts and attitudes (Bruce specifically) before they even realize them. This is why Bruce is so dependent on Dick for everything. In one comic Garth says "Dick's a good listener."
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I'm going to deviate for a minute here and include a panel that shows how this personality trait affects Dick's other roles:
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Speaking more about Bruce's impact on Dick, there's this:
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Aside from the huge ass painting on the wall of just the two of them-the panel is another perfect example of the complicated depth to them. They see each other as equals and when something interferes with that perception, then they start having problems. It haunts Bruce that the 8yr old he took in is equally matched to him in skill and ability but he also recognizes that Dick is too young to be able to do so. He should not have to experience the pain and responsibility of an adult but Bruce can't just get rid of him because Dick is the only one capable of keeping up with him. His heart also breaks when Dick is away (he starts crying in a panel multiple panels as Dick is leaving). For Dick he's already far used to the roles and responsibilities that he doesn't consider his age a factor as to why Bruce refuses to let him do the same things. This is a source of miscommunication between them. Bruce knows Dick can succeed at anything given to him but feels he shouldn't have to deal with those things. And Dick doesn't understand the hesitance when he's proven to have accomplished those tasks and greater before.
To expand, Dick's relationship with Bruce reminds me of Slade's relationship with Billy Wintergreen when Deathstroke tells him "You've been with me through everything...but now I have to say goodbye when you're unconscious or else I can't do it." Or something along those lines, the vibes are the same.
Oh yes, and this scene too:
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Which mimics a lot of the confusion other characters have over Dick and Bruce's relationship.
But the difference between Slade and Billy vs Dick and Bruce is that Dick and Bruce's relationship is blurred on ALL fronts. There's not a single moment where Bruce has viewed Dick strictly as a son.
This leads me into the mentor aspect.
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Note: while Dick knows Bruce the best, Bruce also knows Dick the best of all his children. There's a certainty to the way he speaks about Dick's abilities that he lacks when discussing his other sons'. That doesn't mean he doesn't know what they can do-he well aware and knowledgeable-it just means that his relationship with and understanding of Dick far exceeds what he has with the others.
Holy crap there's so much I'm bouncing all over the place-let me go back for second to partners.
Everyone knows this iconic scene whether you're in the fandom or not:
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But few people know what comes next-
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From the dawn of Batman and Robin comics, Batman has been obsessed with controlling Dick. I don't understand why he doesn't use his manipulative tactics on anyone else. There's a comic panel where Dick tells Barbara, "...you and Bruce don't need to manipulate me into doing what you guys want." It was always his way or the highway with him and Bruce reflects on this again in Batman and Robin Eternal. Dick also tells Bruce he's being pig-headed during the 1966 comic version of the Warner Brother's film and when Bruce asks him "Am I really pig-headed?" Alfred goes "hell yeah." Essentially.
(Also going to sneak this in as another example of why Dick wasn't an angry robin to a previous post
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)
Ofcourse Bruce seems him as a son too:
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THE FULL ON SMILE HE HAS ON HIS FACE JUST LISTENING TO DICK TALK!!!
Also in the linked previous post there's the panel of Bruce begging the judge not to take away his son from him. "Dick is like my own son!I've even changed my will so that incase of my death, Dick will get my entire fortune! You honor, I...I love that boy! Please don't take him from me!"
We already know many references about Dick being labelled Dick's son so I'll leave this aside for now.
Now here's the main point- the way Bruce and Dick interact with each other has so much history they're unable to explain themselves to others or each other. There's so many complex emotions between the two of them that sometimes even they're confused.
But seriously. What is your obsession with Dick, Bruce?
Lemme explain.
As everyone knows Dick and Clark are best friends. They are so close to the point where Bruce actually sweeps the stuff off his desk in the batcave and says "LET ME JUST GET RID OF ALL OUR TROPHIES. I'LL JUST MAKE ROOM FOR THE ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN AND ROBIN INSTEAD!"
WTFFFFF BRUCE. WHY ARE YOU GETTING JEALOUS OF YOUR 15YR OLD'S FRIENDSHIP?
Oh, yes, what trophies am I talking about? Trophies of their battles together of course!
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Which means the batcave is memorabilia of their time together. You know what that also means? It means that Bruce sulks in the Batcave because in the cave, he can literally surround himself with the time he spent with Dick.
Bruce is so abnormal about Dick. He sees Dick as an all in one. Every single relationship category you can think of, Bruce has bundled it up and put it into Dick. If all their various relationships became a physical string, Bruce would have a leash on Dick that resembles a thick, corded rope. So if you cut one thread of, say, friendship, the rope won't tear become the other threads of partnership, family, and other ambiguous threads would still hold them together.
Bruce has a leash on Dick but something Dick doesn't know and Bruce won't admit is that Dick has a leash on him too.
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HERE'S THE INSECURITY WITH DICK AGAIN. THE MAN THINKS THE WORLD OF DICK BUT HE'S HORRIFIED AT THE THOUGHT, AT THE POSSIBILITY, THAT DICK DOESN'T FEEL THE SAME OF HIM.
He's constantly seeking reassurance of his place with Dick through the only way he knows how-manipulation. While Bruce consistently distances himself from his son, he's doing it on purpose so Dick will come running back to him. I mean-isn't that what he did with Jason? Expelling Dick in fury and fear and not telling Dick about taking in a new robin?
In the comic Dick drops by and tells him "I found out through a newspaper and since I haven't been robin..." to which Bruce responds horrified and guilty. He knows what he's doing. He just doesn't want to get caught as to why.
Others have picked on this obsession he has with Dick too:
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Someone clearly knew the importance of Nightwing to Batman. They knew what his death would do to him. And in response Bruce went out of his way-to a foreign land-just to take revenge on the man who almost took “his boy” away from him. Leaving with a parting promise, an oath, to hunt down the other one and leave him crippled for life too. Did Batman know KG Beast would survive or did he just leave it up to fate?
In the previous panel, apart from KG Beast calling Dick "your boy" to Batman, it's only implied though. So how do we know if Dick really does have that much weight to Bruce? Well not only is it confirmed, it is engraved in stone:
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And when the blast nearly kills Dick, Bruce nearly kills the man who did it. WITH A GUN.
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Also him trying to strangle Lex Luthor to death before Lex chokes out in between stolen gasps that Dick's not actually dead but he will be if Bruce continues.
Did you know that the dead Robin in the Superman vs Batman movie was confirmed to be Dick? Yeah. That says a lot right there.
Brothers
I'm not going to get into their brother relationship because that involves how Alfred treats Dick as a son rather than a grandson and is opening a whole new mansion of stuff so I'm going to wrap this up here and say the two of them are a LOT.
Bruce and Dick's relationship is impossible to define and that's why they keep ending up fighting. Their relationship doesn't have clear boundaries and since each type of relationship (brotherhood, father/son, partnership, friendship, colleagues, idols&pedestals) has it's own unique problems, and because the two of them alone are all those things, they have all the problems of each of these categories combined. But they also have all the benefits. Inseparably entwined these two.
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