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tomriddleslove · 2 months

Text

Pick up the phone.

✩Tom Riddle x F! Reader

Summary: The one where your classmate can’t take a hint and Tom doesn’t like people trying to take what’s his. Alternatively : Tom is over possessive and he can’t bear the thought of someone wanting you.

A/N: Despite my Mattheo and Theo fics doing the best i absolutely love writing for tom and this imagine had me going FERAL. I usually don’t like writing non timeline accurate fics but this worked best with tom so pls ignore the fact that they probably wouldn’t have phones during this time. As always, reblogs and replies absolutely make my day so please let me know what you think!!!

Warnings: Slight dark/controlling Tom, unhealthy relationship. Slight NSFW at the end

Songs: House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls - the weeknd

Pick up the phone - Travis Scott and Young Thug

You just about manage to dash into class, trying to calm down your laboured breathing as you slide into your seat, thankful that Professor Slughorn was busy writing something up on the board.

You pant lightly, unpacking your stuff onto your desk. Your desk mate, a boy by the name of Jamie Grimshaw, grins. He was a rather unaware boy, never seeming to catch onto your half-assed laughs and awkward smiles that suggested the last thing you wanted to be doing was entertaining his poor jokes and conversation. He nudges you with a small grin, almost teasing, and you let out a small awkward laugh, grimacing as you look away.

You look up as you place your bag to the side, your gaze immediately locking onto Tom’s. He’s gazing at you, or rather, your desk mate, with a look of such distaste you have to be sure he’s not actually trying to cast some sort of non-verbal spell. You shoot a warning glare at him and his gaze softens ever so slightly as he looks at you.

Keyword - slightly. Because Tom Riddle was certainly not soft. Even for you, the one who had somehow defied every single rule and wall that Tom had so carefully constructed with such reckless abandon, forcing your way into his life, his heart.

You look away as Professor Slughorn begins droning on to the class, and begin attentively scratching down notes, so absorbed in your work that you don't notice the way your desk mate steals glances at you.

Tom watches from afar, itching with the urge to reach out and wrap his hands around the boy's throat and strangle him till the life seeped out of his undeserving eyes that dared to look at you. He hated the idea of someone else seeing you, and wanting you, to the point where he was sure he’d only be satisfied if he could lock you away and keep you somewhere where only he could see you.

It wasn’t that he was scared you’d leave him, no no. Tom was certain that you couldn’t. His love for you (if you could class it as that) lingered in the spaces between your heartbeat, intertwining so seamlessly with your essence that to let go of him would be to unravel the very fabric of who you've become.

So no, he didn’t feel such a strong desire to keep you hidden because he was scared you'd leave him, but rather because he hated the idea of anyone laying their eyes on you. No one would ever be deserving enough of doing so, and the idea that some people (namely Jamie Grimshaw) had the audacity not just to look at you but to let their lustful gaze linger down to your thighs made him furious, ready to gouge their eyes out.

Stuck in his own mind, Tom snaps out of it when his gaze flickers over to you. He sees you working with diligence, and the suffocating feeling of anger subsides for a second. Your hard work, your drive, it was part of what made Tom fall for you. That, amongst many other things. Surprisingly, he found himself largely drawn to the way you got along with everyone (to an extent). Seemingly demure, you were polite and gentle. Something that would be of great benefit to him as well, for who better than to gain the trust of people than the girl beloved by all?

Then again, with everything that has its benefits, it also has its drawbacks. And that was what he was witnessing now, seeing you go along with Jamie’s flirting in an attempt to be polite. You tried to see the best in everyone and consistently denied the fact that Jamie was flirting with you, insisting that Tom was being irrational and overprotective whenever he’d approach you about it.

The second the lesson is over Tom is swiftly up and out of his seat, looming over your desk as you pack up. You look up at him and smile softly, a sweet gaze that disarms him ever so slightly.

“So, I was wondering whether you’d be free to-” Jamie starts.

Tom’s jaw clenches. How dare he? Such an insolent fool, thinking he had the right to speak to you.

Before you can even speak, Tom’s hand comes down to grab your arm and pull you slightly towards him, speaking up.

“No, she cannot. She will be busy tonight. And the night after that.” Tom says, a venom belying his tone as he drags you away.

He ignores your protests as you walk through the common room and up to his room, his grip on your arm tightening ever so slightly.

“Tom!” You protest, wrenching your arm out of his grip as he closes the door to his room, tossing his bag down as he turns to you.

"Tom, what was that back there?" you demand, your voice a mix of frustration and confusion.

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming as he towers over you.

"I can't stand seeing him look at you like that," he says, his voice low and intense.

You take a step back. "Look at me like what?" you ask, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Like he wants you," Tom replies, his eyes burning into yours. "Like he thinks he has the right to even think about you in that way."

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his gaze. "Tom, he's just being friendly," you try to reason, but even to your own ears, your words sound feeble.

Tom's expression darkens, and you realize you've struck a nerve. "Friendly?" he scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain. "There's nothing friendly about the way he looks at you. He wants something from you, something I won't allow him to have."

Tom steps even closer, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the fire in his eyes. "I'm not irrational," he murmurs, his voice softening ever so slightly. "I just can't bear the thought of anyone else having you. You're mine, and I won't let anyone forget that."

Your frustration subsides, and you let out a small sigh, leaning into his touch.

“No one else can have me, Tom. I'm yours.” You murmur, and a small smile tugs at his lips. He leans down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss. His hands tilt your head back slightly, deepening the kiss as you sigh into his mouth, melting at his touch. He pulls away, and you look up at him, a fire ignited within you even after the briefest of touch. His thumb caresses your cheek lovingly before he pulls away, gazing at you with a mix of possessiveness and adoration.

“Good. Let’s do some work now” He mutters, eyes roaming over your face.

It was only the next day when Tom had thought the whole thing was over and done with, and you wouldn't have to deal with it again. He walks into the common room, expecting to find you sitting by the fireplace, reading a book.

You were there, but not alone. Jamie sat by you, his arm draped behind you on the sofa as he chatted to you, clearly making you uncomfortable.

“Jamie, can I help you with something?" you ask, trying to sound polite but firm.

Jamie's smile widens, and he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Actually, I was hoping we could grab a butterbeer sometime?" he says, his voice low.

You laugh nervously.

“Maybe in a few days? I have to do some work right now and it’s-” You say, and Tom is furious, moving over to you.

"Jamie," he says, his voice tight with restrained anger, "I think it's best if you leave her alone. She's not interested."

Jamie's smile falters, but he quickly recovers, his tone mocking. "Oh, I'm sure she can speak for herself, Tom," he retorts, his eyes flickering with challenge.

Before Tom can respond, you intervene, feeling the tension between them escalating dangerously. "Tom, it's fine," you say, trying to diffuse the situation. "Jamie was just leaving."

Tom's jaw clenches, but he nods curtly, his gaze never leaving Jamie's. "See that you do," he says, his voice low and threatening.

With one last defiant look at Tom, Jamie gathers his things and makes a hasty exit, leaving you alone with Tom in the common room.

You shoot Tom a pointed look, silently demanding an explanation for his behaviour, but he merely gestures for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you fall into step behind him as he leads you up to his room, his pace brisk and determined.

Once inside, Tom slams the door shut behind you, his frustration boiling over.

Like a scene from a movie, this conversation is all too familiar, and all the more agitating.

"What were you thinking?" he demands, his voice laced with anger. "Talking to him like that, letting him get too close."

You bristle at his accusatory tone, your temper flaring up. "Excuse me? He just wanted to go out! Why must you assume everyone has bad intentions?” You scoff, and Tom feels his restraint slipping as he lets go of your arms, sighing angrily as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek.

“Honestly, I have to wonder whether you think sometimes. Do you not see the way he looks at you? The way he stares at your legs when you're in class? Do you know the disgusting things that go through his mind?” Tom says, harshly. You see his anger rising and begin to panic, not wanting it to spiral out of control.

“Tom, I promise you it wasn’t anything. He really just wanted a drink.” You reason, trying to diffuse the tension as you look up at him, placing a hand on his forearm. He looks down at you, anger still evident in his eyes.

Your phone pings, breaking the momentary silence. Your eyes flicker down to it, briefly glancing at the message on the screen. You curse internally, stomach dropping at who had messaged you. It was practically the worst time for them to have messaged. You slip the phone into your pocket, praying Tom won’t probe further.

“Look, Tom. He doesn’t-” You start, but your phone pings again, cutting you off, This time Tom most certainly notices, his eyes also flickering down to your pocket.

“Who’s messaging you?” He asks, as though he can sense your unease. You brush it off, just shaking your head.

“Oh, no one. Just Hannah asking for the homework.” You say, and Tom stares down at you, his gaze scrutinising for a second before he hums, taking a step back. You're partially grateful because if you can get away with this you can avoid the confrontation about Jamie as well. He turns to walk over to his desk and you turn around, going to get your books to join him. Just as you’re doing so, the sound of your ringtone fills the otherwise silent room.

Shit.

You hastily reach for your phone, fumbling with it as you decline the call, cursing. You slowly turn around and Tom is glaring at you, dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Seems like the work must be quite urgent if she has to call you as well. Why don't you pick up the phone?” Tom utters, voice strained as he looks over at you.

You laugh nervously, shaking your head as your phone begins ringing again. Jamie’s relentlessness was really beginning to annoy you, and you weren’t sure how on earth you'd explain this to Tom. The fact that Jamie was calling you would be enough to anger Tom, let alone the fact that you lied to him about it.

“Oh no, that’s just Hannah. Bit of a teacher's pet, she panics if she dares to miss a day of school because she was in the infirmary.” You say with a nervous chuckle, trying to lighten the atmosphere slightly as you pray he stops calling you.

A chilling smirk tugs at Tom’s lips, a low laugh escaping his lips, a smile gracing his face. You let out the breath you were holding, thankful that he (by some miracle) bought into it as you also laughed, trying to move on from the topic as soon as possible.

“Pick up the damn phone,” he says suddenly, his voice eerily calm yet laced with a dangerous undercurrent.

The dread in your stomach multiplies tenfold, your smile fading as you take a step back.

“Tom-” You start, but he takes a step closer, hand finding its place on your jaw as he speaks again.

“Pick. up. the. Phone” He says, each word punctuated with a chilling intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on your jaw tightens slightly, his eyes boring into yours with an unnerving ferocity.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you reach for your phone, your fingers trembling with apprehension. With a shaky breath, you answer the call, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?" you say, your voice barely above a whisper, anticipation gnawing at your nerves.

On the other end of the line, Jamie's voice comes through, smooth and confident. "Hey," he says, his tone casual. "Just wanted to see if you're free tonight. Thought we could grab that butterbeer we talked about."

Your pulse quickens, panic rising within you as you glance up at Tom, who is watching you intently, his expression unreadable.

“Oh, uhm-” You begin, a squeak escaping your lips as you feel Tom’s lips on your neck. Your eyes widen as you look down at him, dumbfounded.

“Carry on. Go ahead and speak to him.” He mutters against your neck, pressing kisses along the side.

“I- I uhm. I w-was… fuck” You stammer, a breath gasp escaping your lips as you desperately try and stifle any noises that threaten to escape your lips as Tom nips at the delicate skin on your neck, soothing it with his tongue.

He continues to pepper your neck with kisses, relishing in the way your body shivers under his touch.

His voice, husky and filled with dark amusement, interrupts your stammering. "Oh, what a shame. Seems like you're a little preoccupied at the moment," he taunts, his lips trailing lower to the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

He bites down gently, eliciting a gasp from you as you struggle to maintain your composure.

Tom's fingers creep up your waist, slipping beneath the fabric of your blouse. His touch is possessive, his grip firm as he pulls you closer.

Your voice trembles as you try to regain control of the situation. "I-I'm sorry, Jamie, I can't... tonight," you manage to say, your words punctuated by a soft moan as Tom's lips find your earlobe, nipping at it playfully.

Tom chuckles darkly, his breath tickling your ear. "Tell him you're busy, darling," he whispers, his voice dripping with both amusement and dominance. His hand slides higher, squeezing your breast through the fabric of your bra, causing you to gasp and arch into his touch.

"J-Jamie, I... I can't. I-I have commitments after s-school," You stammer, your voice strained with a mix of pleasure and frustration. Tom's touch is maddeningly intoxicating, clouding your mind and making it difficult to focus on anything else.

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, and Jamie's voice sounds disappointed. "Alright, no problem. Maybe another time then," he says, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. You let out a small whimper as he hangs up, tossing your phone to the side as a string of curses escapes your lips.

Tom, satisfied with his disruption, pulls back. His eyes glance over the myriad of purple bruises scattered all over your neck and chest.

“Good. I’ll make sure my name is the only one you’ll ever remember.” He utters.

Before you can respond, Tom pulls you into a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matches your own.

He manoeuvres you to the bed, not once breaking the kiss as your legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards onto the soft mattress. He lowers himself down over you, kissing you with fevour as he mutters.

“Mine, all mine.”

@mildlyuninformative @chgrch @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @schaebickel @lillywildly @batmandabest @always-reading

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fic

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horrorartsworld · 3 months

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lovely how are u? hope you’re doing amazing, please don’t overwork yourself and take care.

Can i send u a request? If the answer is yes…HERE I AM

There is a ball/or like an event where we have dancing involved. There reader is in a corner of the main hotel hall, looking at everybody dancing, she decides to go out in a sort of garden or whatever you want, and there meets Alastor? Maybe teasing and stuff like that YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN- surprise me darling

luv u💌

aww you sweet thing 🥺!! i’m doing well thank you and i absolutely adore everything about this request! especially the fact you trust me with such a lovely idea, so i hope i did you insane amounts of justice with this one and as always enjoy ❤︎₊ ⊹

—————————

under the pale moonlight

alastor!f reader

no warnings for this one c: just fluffy !

Everyone at the Hazbin Hotel had came together in the last couple weeks to throw a HUGE elaborate party with the hopes of welcoming in more sinners that were accepting of their rehabilitation program. Charlie was all a buzz about it, as she loved seeing her friends so willingly help get this all together as she went to the highest extent of writing her own little speech for it (of course with yours and Vaggie’s help) and making sure to mention her little band of misfits as she would pitch it later on that evening to hopefully win a couple hearts with her insatiable charisma.

Tonight just so happened to be the night, guests already flooding in through the doors of the main hall, you couldn’t help but look around admiring the hotel in this moment of controlled chaos with a small smile creeping onto your face since it had never looked and sounded so alive in all its time sitting here on top of the hill.

Beautiful decorations adorned the walls and any crevice the crew could find, platters with food of all kinds to dine in on, jazz music from a band Alastor had mustered up playing softly in their designated corner, and a big scribbled on sign that hung over the main doors with the words “welcum” managed to some how weasel its way into the formalities here making you giggle to yourself as your friends were so predictable.

“Bitch!! Look at you!” Angel dust compliments making you snap out of your sweet little thoughts to yourself as you looked over at him then looking down at the white gown the girls had helped you pick out blushing bashfully as you playfully fanned a hand at him then covered your cheeks. “Oh stop! Have you seen yourself!” you attempt at reciprocating the energy as you gesture towards his short pink dress that flattered him well.

He chuckles brining you in for a hug before admiring the hotel alongside you with a smug look on his face. “I can’t believe we actually did this”

“I know! i think we really outdid ourselves with this one and i bet Charlie’s shitting bricks right now seeing all these people” you snicker in which he does too at this.

“Oh without a doubt, hey! Have you seen smiles anywhere? He’d usually be all over this joint kissing ass.”

Now that he mentioned it you started to wonder where the tall deer man was, attempting to look over the crowd of demons to no avail, Alastor would’ve been easy to pick out if he was here.

“Yeah i’m not entirely-“ before you could finish your sentence Angel was dragged away to the bar by none other than Cherri Bomb, a small ‘sorry’ was mouthed to you and then you were alone with your thoughts once more.

Sighing softly to yourself you noticed the band had started playing a slower song now, demons who had partners gathered to slow dance in the middle of the floor so elegantly with the lights of the chandelier above them casting a pretty glow amongst all their usual ravaging faces, surprising and almost scaring you seeing their decency unfold in-front of you.

Continuing your watch from afar a small ache within your heart erupts as you couldn’t help but wish you had someone of your own to share moments like that with. You quite pitied yourself since you never were much of the realtionship type though now that didn’t seem to be the case. Sighing once more in shameless thought, you tear your eyes away to stop the torture amongst yourself as you desired some fresh air.

Finding yourself in Hazbin’s small little garden with the few dead frivolous plants amongst a murky pound with barely any life in it, sitting yourself on a bench in the mix of it all.

The breeze being the only nice thing as it lightly brushed through your hair and dress as you looked up at Hell’s moon for a moment as you still pondered the thought of love.

“Running away from our problems are we?”

You jump startled slipping off the bench and onto the hard ground making you huff as you stare up at the smiling bastard.

“Gosh…I must say you look quite good from down there my dear~” his voice low and oddly somewhat playful as he appears next to you in his usual attire that seemed almost too fitting for the occasion.

“Oh don’t flatter yourself” huffing once more as you scrunch your eyebrows at him, you wanted ever so badly to give him a piece of your mind, but you knew it wouldn’t do you any good in this moment since it seemed with the weight of your dress you could barley get yourself up.

He chuckles seeing your predicament as you plop around the floor before you finally give up not daring to look up at him for help as your cheeks burn from embarrassment.

“Do you need assistance darling?~”

“No” you grumble crossing your arms as he waits patiently for a moment before you say, “alright maybe i do..”

A mischievous glint passes through his eyes as you finally look back up at him shivering slightly when seeing it.

“Beg for it~”

The wind practically knocked out of you as he said it so huskily. “w-what?”

“You heard me my dear….i want you to beg for my help, it’s not that difficult to comprehend~” he teased with his eyes squinting down at you as if demanding you to do it now.

Your cheeks were on fire as your mind scrabbled with what to do, though it was painstakingly obvious.

Once your mind was right you suddenly grab his hand with your upper body pressed up against his leg giving him the best pleading eyes you could muster as you say, “p-please help me alastor~” in the sweetest voice that had him squeezing your hand.

He then pulls you up to your feet with a surprising amount of strength making you teeter about before you catch your balance once more, his hand staying in yours.

(cue the music!! ⤵️)

There’s a sudden silence that falls between the both of you with the only sound being from the soft tunes of the jazz band pouring from the windows of the hotel.

Alastor without warning grabs your hand tighter as he pulls you toward his chest, discarding his microphone for the spare of the moment without care, then rests that hand on your hip.

The sudden movements catching you off guard making your heart race a little with both the close proximity and the feeling of his touch.

“I think you deserve a dance for all my trouble tonight~”

“O-oh nonono Alastor- I can’t dance” you say bashfully trying to pull away with no budge.

“I won’t take no for an answer~” his voice stern as he keeps a hold on you as he then starts to guide you with his movements. Delicately swaying back and forth.

At first you looked like a new born bird trying to fly but eventually you started flowing along with Alastor, becoming way more comfortable with yourself. The two of you glided along the grass of the garden underneath the spotlight of the moon. You then lightly rest your head against his chest feeling the vibrations of his humming along with the song that seemed to comfort you as you shut your eyes to take it all in.

Because for some reason it seemed so perfect to you. Like you’ve finally found what you’ve been missing for all this time.

You open your eyes once more meeting Alastor’s as you softly spoke out to him,

“Alastor?”

“Yes my dear?~”

“How come i didn’t see you at the party this evening?”

“Well….because i knew i’d be seeing you~”

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin imagine #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff #fluff

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espiepuffs · 3 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do Ortega/Kieran × "Delinquent" GN! Reader? (Delinquent with a heart of gold) 🫶

Heart of gold ♡

Pairing: Kieran x GN! Reader, Ortega x GN! Reader

Notes: Hello anon! Thank you for requesting and sorry it took so long to write up! I had so many different ideas in mind but I couldn’t figure out how to write it just the way I wanted. Nevertheless, this was a super fun idea and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Kieran

Your and Kieran’s relationship could be perfectly described as a dog owner straining to hold its feisty dog.

And Kieran’s friends (and sister) were surprised. Out of everyone Kieran could’ve possibly gotten with, you?!

See, you were infamous over at BB Academy for your violent and reckless behaviour, causing trouble for both teachers and students alike with the amount of fights you’d take part in.

But Kieran doesn’t mind that a bit! He’ll try prevent you from picking fights with people, but that can only do so much :’)

He actually looks up to you in a way, he admires you for your confidence and bravery.

Carmine was incredibly wary of you at first and would do just about anything and everything to make sure you wouldn’t harm Kieran.

She was proven wrong in so many ways though!

You were always so sweet and attentive, checking up on him and making sure he wasn’t overworking himself.

Compared to how you’d yell at others in the hallways, your voice was uncharacteristically soft spoken around him.

You’d always share your snacks with him, sometimes even bringing him food you’d made to share!

He was so much happier than before, and his eye-bags were close to non-existent at that point! Give yourself a pat on the back, you’ve done incredibly well.

(And earned Carmine’s trust, that’s even harder to do!)

He tends to be the one to patch you up after fights if you do get injured at all!

He tries to make sure you attend classes more often, if you don’t he’s disappointed.

“S/o, you need to attend classes more, otherwise you won’t learn anything and you’ll get held back like Drayton >:(”

There was a time that some students were talking bad about Kieran, picking on him for how he’d acted while he was champion.

Of course he knew that how he’d behaved wasn’t okay in the slightest, but he really was trying to change :c

When you’re with him next, you notice how downcast he is. After getting him to tell you what happened, you managed to track down and have a ‘friendly chat’ with said students!

Next thing you know, they’re profusely apologising to him the next day, and they stay out of his hair from then on.

(He isn’t completely dumb, he knows you had something to do with it, but he didn’t say anything about it, since it did benefit him in the end.)

The school also takes note of the fact that you’re involved in less fights, and you attend classes more often now!

Kieran has as much of a positive impact on you as you do on him <3

Ortega

I think that you and Ortega would go way back, even before the creation of team star. The two of you were childhood friends.

You and Ortega would be bullied by others, however you would always snap back.

Being insulted by Ortega would definitely sting, but you know what would hurt more? One of your punches <33

When you were young, your personality was hot headed and confrontational, whilst being compassionate and standing up for what you believed in.

You were incredibly good at fighting, and you’d cause a ruckus for anyone that’d do wrong.

Vandalism, violence and threats were things you weren’t afraid to do if people had decided to bully.

You’d only go so far however, knowing that two wrongs don’t make a right, to a certain extent.

You two were each other’s flint and steel, you needed each other to make sparks.

(So The rest of team star was not surprised in the slightest when you two started dating!)

It’s also no surprise that you yourself are in team star. The group aren’t really a bunch of delinquents like you may be, they’re more misunderstood.

But any companion (or partner) of Ortega’s is an immediate friend of theirs!

Also, you can pretty much skip school whenever, it’s pretty much a load off your back and you don’t have to deal with bullies at school-

(Not that there really are any left there anyways…)

Moving onto the present, seeing the two of you interact is the biggest sort of visual whiplash there is.

Ortega is known for his snide remarks, and you’re just the walking and talking form of chaos, so seeing the two of you together so calm is incredibly uncanny.

The two of you walking hand in hand, smiling and talking about fairy types could make anyone pull a double take!

With you, the boy feels very protected, it’s as if you’ve cast an aromatic mist over him!

Sometimes, Ortega does worry about your violent tendencies getting out of hand, and does try to make sure you reel it in just a tad bit, just to keep yourself out of trouble!

You would bring a lot of comfort to Ortega. He finds you to be quite a soothing person, always open to listening to what he has to say.

You don’t care about the same things people would nitpick and bully him for, you would always stand up for him in those situations, even if it meant you getting in trouble.

Over the years, the two have you have been super supportive of each other.

He’s happy that he’s the one that gets to be on the receiving end of your kindness!

The two of you are just absolutely perfect for each other- that’s one thing any and everyone in team star can agree on.

Even if you’re a violent troublemaker, and Ortega is a snarky and snappy guy, the two of you bring the best out of each other, and that’s as plain as day!

#pokémon #pokemon scarlet #pokemon violet #pokemon scarvi #pokemon kieran x reader #kieran x reader #pokemon kieran #ortega x reader #pokemon ortega

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russellsppttemplates · 8 months

Text

Trust me (Lance Stroll)

Lance's recovery plan after his mountain biking accident leaves you even more concerned

Note: english is not my first language. Here's another piece to help complete my mission of including Lance pieces in my masterlist!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: Lance's mountain biking accident, mentions of hospital setting and recovery

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?", Lance asked one last time, checking if he had everything they would need, "I have some stuff from work to do, and besides, mountain biking isn't really my thing", you shrugged, not feeling too bad that you were missing the activity.

"Alright then, if you need anything, just call me, okay?", your boyfriend noted, kissing your forehead before he walked out of the door, "be safe, guys!", you yelled before the door closed.

Through the wonders of remote work and your job, you found a way of spending some of Lance's time off the races with him, and when he suggested that you should join for him trip to Spain before the season began, you only had to arrange a few things around to be able to join him.

It was supposed to, despite the fact that you were still working, a relaxing time and a needed change of scenery. And was it a change of scenery indeed when you got a call saying that Lance had been injured and was being taken to the hospital by the emergency team. You packed all the documents you could think of and made your way to the hospital, thumbs fiddling with one another since you had yet to understand the extent of your boyfriend's injuries.

Sitting in the waiting room, your foot tapped o the clean grey floor, your eyes moving to the double doors everytime a health professional walked out, hoping they would come looking for you and take to see your boyfriend with an update on his health status. His trainer was with him and he had been the one to text you briefly about what had happened and the hospital he had been taken to, but once they went into the examination room, he had grown quiet and his messages had ceased, until a brief one stating that someone would be coming to bring you in as Lance had finished his medical exams.

A young doctor came to you, presenting himself and explaining to you a brief outline of what happened, as far as he was aware, and what the medical team had been doing given the concerns and problems that arised. While you were not a medical expert, Grey's Anatomy was your comfort show and the amount of exams and the words you recognised meant that your boyfriend had been way more serious than you had hoped.

Entering the room, your eyes flew immediately to Lance, seeing his bandaged up wrists and some of the same material around on his right toes, "hey, you", he said, eyes droopy from what you can imagine was a mix of medication for the pain and also from the steong lights and the fuss around him, "hello, my love", you said, looking at the nurse taking notes on her iPad in a way to ask for his permission to approach your boyfriend, "how are you feeling?", you asked, him, your hand touching his cheek softly, afraid of touching somewhere where it would cause more damage.

"I'm a bit uncomfortable from the pain, but it's manageable", he smiled a tight lipped one, looking at the doctos who were discussing some of the films and scan images, "it seems that Lance has a fracture and displacement in his right wrist, a fracture in his left wrist. We also see what looks to be a partial fracture in his left hand", the doctor said, showing the scans, "and another fracture in the big toe on his right foot", he finished.

"And is there a plan for it?", Lance asked, "the season is starting in two weeks", Lance noted.

"You said testing is next week? So from the 23 to the 25?", the doctor asked, "yes, and the first race is on the 5th", he trainer added, looking at the calendar on his phone.

The doctor was silent for a bit before he excused himself, looking at the scans and discussing a few points with his colleagues while you looked at Lance, sensing his mind was filling with negative thoughts and pressures about his recovery already, "I can only imagine how scary this is, but you'll be alright, okay? We'll do everything we can to get you better as soon as possible", you tried your best to reassure him despite the heavy feeling in your chest.

"Our opinion, and this comes from having participated in many cases where the injuries were sinilar", Dr. Javier Mir explained, "is that the timeline for testing is, unfortunately, not enough for everything to heal like we would like", he stated, "and, realistically, I would count that you miss the first few races", he finished.

After informing that they were going to have a meeting to discuss the surgical plans, Lance's trainer left to call the Aston Martin health professionals to catch them up with the situation, leaving you and Lance alone in the hospital room, "are you feeling any pain? I'm sure we can get the nurse to kick these up", you pointed to the IV bag next to you, "I'm good, I just feel a little pressure on my wrists, nothing more", he tried his best to smile, wanting to see you ease too, "I'm sorry this happened, my love", you tempted, seeing him pucker his lips and welcoming his to touch your own lips, craddling his face and taking the opportunity to scratch his cheeks, thumbs rubbing the skin.

The next day began with Lance getting ready to go up to surgery on his right wrist, "I'll be here when you wake up", you smiled, kissing his forehead before they wheeled him up, "try and get some sleep, yes, darling? I know you haven't slept all that well", he winked, "I love you".

While Lance was in surgery, you kept texting his family, trying your best to be a calming and sure figure and also answering their questions and updating them on how everything was going, "is he okay? Given everything, that is...", Chloe said during the videocall, "he's handling it, I guess. He's obviously disappointed that this has happened, and that this has happened so close to the beggining of the season", you offered, "but he's keeping to himself?", your boyfriend's sister completed, "yes, I think. You know how he is. He's shared some of his thoughts but he's trying to stay as positive as he can be, and everyone here is on the same page, too. They've been very reassuring and hopeful", you smiled, your attention caught by the surgeon you recognised from Lance's team, "I'll text you the news, okay? Dr. Mir is here", you bid Chloe goodbye, ending the call and getting up.

"Miss Y/N, we just finished your boyfriend's surgery, and I'm glad to say it was successful", he smiled, seeing your relief, "my colleagues have lifted the anesthesia and they're taking him up to his room, you can join him as soon as you like", he finished, accompanying you to the lifts to take you up as well.

Thanking Dr. Mir, you texted everyone that had kindly asked you to know when the surgical intervention had finished, reaching the room as soon as you sent the last text, knocking on the door to see a young doctor type on her iPad, "Hi, you must be Y/N, right?", she asked and you nodded, "he's still a bit loopy and sleepy from the medication, but he asked for you just now", she smiled sweetly, taking note of some of the numbers on the screen before saying, "Dr. Mir will come back once he's done with the op notes to inform you, but so far, everything is going well and like it should".

Lance moved in the bed, opening his eyes at the noise, you presumed, "hey", you whispered, brushing the hairs on his forehead, "how are you feeling, bub?", you smiled, seeing his brown orbs look back at you, "I'm tired, but otherwise good", he mumbled as he tried his best to kiss the part of your hand closest to his lips before he was interrupted by his surgeon walking in.

"Hi Lance, glad to see you're doing well. The surgery went as it was supposed to, and I think, if you work hard, you'll be back for Jeddah. Bahrain, maybe, I don't want to be too optimistic, but it would be doable", he smiled, explaining the next few steps.

"Unfortunately, the fractures in your left hand and wrist, and also your toe for thay matter, aren’t suitable for fixation, so we'll have to go about it on a more conservative approach to heal those other injuries", he explained, gathering Lance's trainer while they all discussed recovery plans, your hand sitting on his leg while they spoke.

While you were in hospital, things had been as good as they could be: the medical staff had been amazing with everything, caring for Lance and teaching you the smaller things you could do at home in terms of dressing the area and helping it heal faster, even if it was something simple as holding his hand and twisting it like you're dancing.

The first few days at home, and even though Henry was with Lance for a good part of the day for all the different approaches to improve the mobility on his hands and wrists, "I need to shower", Lance gulped, "and while it is usually different when I say this, I really need your help", he smiled shyly, getting up and approaching you so you could both head to the bathroom.

When you were back in the bedroom, with Lance already tucked into bed with his medication already taken just watching you get ready for bed yourself while you tidied the room, "Y/N", Lance called, grabbing your attention while you put the dirty clothes on the hamper, "are you okay? Do you need me to move the pillows? Do you have an itch somewhere?", you urged to his side, ready to help, "None of that, no. I'm perfectly content and comfortable, and that is because of you. Thank you", he chuckled, "I don't think that there are any words or expressions that I could use to show my appreciation and gratitude for you", he beamed, "I'm even more in awe of you. You have been here everytime I've needed you, even if it's just a mundane task that my wrists don't allow me to do. You're always there cheering me on whenever a session doesn't go well and there to congratulate me and celebrate with me whenever it goes well", he smiled.

Sitting next to him on the bed, careful of his wirst, and kissed his lips, "we always said we would be here for eachother, right? Besides, I enjoy caring for you", you cuddled him, helping him to lay on top of your chest while you put something on the TV, your hand landing on his torso.

While you couldn't go to Lance's appointment as you had work responsibilities, you were eager to see him arrive back home

"I was speaking to the team today, and Dr. Mir also gave his opinion, and they think I can race this weekend in Bahrain, things are really looking up", and that was enough for your nervousness to come back.

"And do you feel ready to go? I mean, you're still doing ice after every session, the bruises are still there too", you tried to reason, knowing from previous days that it was nearly to no use. It wasn't the first time his medical team had forwarded the option, and while it was a good sign that his recovery was going well, it still concerned you that it would be too painful for him.

"I'm more than ready, I miss driving. Tomorrow I'm driving on the simulator to see if I can handle it", he smiled as he took a water bottle out of the fridge, his smile fading when he saw the crease between your eyebrows, "I have everyone looking at every movement I do and how I do it, my love. I'll be fine", he attempted to soothe your worries, kissing your forehead, "do you want help with dinner?", he wondered looking at the pots, "I can stir this!", he cheerfully suggested, pointing the wooden spoon at you and managing to make a grin break on your lips, nudging his side while you joined him at the stove.

Seeing Lance need help to get out of the car made your fears even clearer, "I don't like this", you mumbled, feeling Claire-Anne's hand on your back, "me neither, sweetheart", she mumbled back. Sighing, you realised that you were not the only one filled with worry. While Lawrence, Lance himself and everyone on the team said he would be okay, you couldn't help but let your thoughts travel to a dangerous place. What if something went wrong? What if he crashed and he couldn't get out of the car safely? The questions plagued you to the point where you excused yourself, smiling and thanking all of the Aston Martin team members you passed until you reached Lance's driver's room, closing the door before you sat down, waiting for him to come back from the interviews.

It didn't take long before he was back, seeing Henry walk in with bags of ice on his hands, "Hi Y/N", he smiled, setting the bags on top of a box before he exited, "Lance will be here shortly". When Lance arrived, he kept talking about how it felt to finally be in the car, "it's incredible. The team back at the factory built an amazing car this year, it's a pleasure to drive! I- Hey, everything alright?", he questioned as he fastened the ice bags around his wrists, "I'm happy that you're happy, Lance, don't get me wrong. But, is it safe for you? And I'm asking genuinely and I want an honest answer", you finally let out.

Sitting next to you, Lance placed his hand on your thigh, "it's medically safe. Does it hurt? Yes, but not to the point where it will take me out of doing it", he stated, "I'm worried for you, I mean, you couldn't even turn the wheel around with both of your hands, I saw it on the onboard", you spoke your point, "I promise I'll be careful, okay? I understand your worry, and I appreciate it. I'm sorry it causes you this much distress, but I promise you I'll say it whenever it's not okay, yes?", he held his pinky out, making you nudge it slightly, "C'mon, my love, give me a real pinky promise!", he teased you, lacing his finger with yours with some applied strength.

The cars were on track getting ready for the formation lap when you were walking bag to the garage, bumping into Mick on the way, "Y/N! I haven't seen you in a while, how are you?", he greeted you with a kiss on each cheek, "Hi Mick!", you greeted him back, "how have you been? We've been dealing with the whole wrist situation", you shrugged your shoulders, "I've been good, change of scenery for the season, but it has been a big opportunity to learn and it's only the start. I've heard, Lance's keeping you on your toes, hm?", he giggled.

"Yes, a lot. I trust him and the team, you know? But I can't help feeling nervous. These past two weeks have been the craziest in my life, I think", you smiled, "but it's all in good efforts, I think, the car looks promising. I think Sebastian's legacy is doing some magic", you finished, "if he says he's good, trust him, yeah? I'll see you around, Y/N", the German driver smiled, patting your arm as he left the green coloured garage.

Picking up your headset, you sat next to Lance's mother, getting ready to watch the race while you crossed your fingers for everything to go well, "this is even more stressful", the older woman confessed, "if he says he's good, we should trust him", you repeated Mick's words like a mantra, earning her nod as she squeezed your hand on top of the small table like compartment.

With Fernando finishing on the podium and Lance finishing in 6th place, there were many reasons to celebrate, "above all of this", you gestured to the celebrations that were being held by the team dinner party, "is that you're safe and sound, here with me", you smiled, kissing your boyfriend's lips, "I told you to trust me, didn't I? And it was fine", he mused, "you should have seen her during the race, though. There was a time I felt she would make them stop it all just to go and give you an ice pack", Claire-Anne mentioned, smiling at her son's happy relationship.

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll × reader #lance stroll fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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blessedwithabadomen · 2 months

Text

in love with the mess - day five

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff, flirting, drinking, everyone gets a kiss

length : 4.2k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3

a/n : here we go!! enjoy and feel free to comment, ask, reblog 💗

•••

day five

Something about the check-in at the hotel in Manchester was fishy and had caused a ridiculous amount of chaos that needed to be sorted out by the tour managers. I made the best of the situation and got comfortable in the lobby with my laptop, determined to get some work done ahead of time. Lia was going to be here in just a few hours and I'd promised her to free my schedule as much as possible.

Plus, I knew we would be drinking, so the ride to Glasgow tomorrow was going to be spent regretting my hangover and lying in my bunk, not doing hours of work.

The only strange thing about the day so far was that I had seen neither Oli nor Noah. Noah’s absence was to be expected to a certain extent; he was in a different band, on a different bus, with slightly deviating schedules, so the chances of running into each other could be quite low. I hadn't gotten a message from him either though. At least rumour had been going around that he woke up as good as new this morning, whatever had been beating him down yesterday had vanished completely. Oli was more surprising considering he was consistently put into an adjacent hotel room, travelled in the same tour bus and technically employed me.

Funnily enough, the question about the two missing frontmen was answered sooner than the check-in chaos got resolved. I heard the two of them entering the lobby together before I saw them. Pushing each other away, both seemed eager to get to me first as soon as they spotted me, stealing a bag from each other's hands over and over again.

“Fucking stop, I’m the one who knew to get this for her,” Oli complained, trying to keep the paper bag out of Noah’s reach, who was quicker than him and caught it behind Oli’s back.

“Yeah, and I’m the one who’s gonna give it to her!”

“Give it back, you wanker!”

Their fight came to an abrupt end as they stood in front of me looking up at them over my laptop.

“I got you something,” Oli explained, motioning to the bag.

“We got you something,” Noah corrected.

“Just because you walked next to me, doesn’t mean you had anything to do with it!”

I felt another bout of their little spat coming on, so I quickly intervened and stole the bag from Noah’s hands. Both of them quieted down immediately, watching me as I opened it up. The sweet scent of pastries filled my nostrils immediately.

“Are these…?” I didn’t finish my question as I brought the baked good to my nose, inhaling it deeply once again before taking a hearty bite ouf of its flakey goodness. I didn't know how Oli new. I couldn't remember if I'd ever told him and if I had, I was sure it was in passing only. The fact that he not only was aware of my sweet tooth but also went out of his way to satisfy it with my favourite goods caused my stomach to flip. “Thank you so much, that’s so sweet.”

“From your favourite bakery,” Oli proudly agreed. “You said you weren’t in Manchester that often and- well, I thought after yesterday-”

“Wait, what happened yesterday?”

Suddenly, Noah was all ears. I was much too preoccupied with the best thing I’d tasted in months to think about how to explain. Oli had mentioned it, Oli could solve the situation.

“Aubrey was in a right mood last night,” Oli said with grin. “A little brat.”

I almost choked on my pastry, a few flakes flying away from me as I got my breathing back under control. I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Oli was hardly known for being a prude about these things.

“And I went to sleep instead,” Noah groaned, sounding genuinely remorseful. Our eyes met for a moment. Somehow, I knew we were both remembering last night, too, me bringing him back to the hotel room, him warning me off. He looked away first, as if a little embarrassed. I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself soon enough,” it burst out of me. But I’d already learned that the combination of us three left very little room to hold back in that aspect.

Oli leaned down to me, his thumb wiping at the corner of my mouth where some chocolate had seemingly gotten stuck. He tapped my lips. It was enough for me to dumbly open my mouth and suck it in, twirling my tongue around it to get another taste. He chuckled darkly, satisfied how easily I went along with him, before pulling away, finding another bit of chocolate to swipe away, this time offering his thumb to Noah.

He was torn. Quite visibly so. The tension hung in the air as he tried to decide on which move to make now, all three of us basically holding our breaths to see what would transpire.

Then, some loud laughter from the crew erupted somewhere else in the lobby, loud enough to pull him out of it. He actually shook his head, as if that could make the thoughts disappear.

“Fuck you, Oli,” he muttered, without much force behind it.

“Yeah,” Oli laughed, licking the chocolate of his thumb himself, “I bet you’d like to.”

•••

Whoever said that time flies when you’re having fun had never felt time slipping through your fingers when you were desperately trying to get your boss to get to all things in his agenda on time while he was being an absolute arse for no reason but to amuse himself. On top of that, your best friend was blowing up your phone in excitement of getting to see you, effectively starting a countdown that only served to distract you from the work you should be doing.

By seven o’clock, I was thoroughly exhausted and annoyed. At some point, Noah had even pulled me aside to give me a much needed hug, although it had been cut short by Lia announcing her imminent arrival. Luckily, Lia did what she did best and that was raise my mood impossibly the very second I saw her.

Her arms around me felt like home. She was the only anchor I felt I still had, while I was always trying to never get too settled in one place with my work taking me all over, but we’d been friends since childhood and she’d always refused to budge. I didn’t thank her for it enough.

“Okay, catch me up asap, what’s been happening, what’s been going down, have you managed to bang anyone yet?”

I shot an apologetic smile at the two stagehands walking past as I walked down the corridor with Lia, an AAA pass hung around her neck and so excited that I wondered if she’d had a drink before coming here. With a slightly quicker step, I dragged her into Oli’s dressing room, aware he was currently hanging out with the rest of his band.

“Well, there’s been no fucking, but…”

I awkwardly started tidying up the dressing room. It came as second nature, really, trying to make sure things were in order, helping Oli out for later, not letting him drown in his chaos. I busied myself with a hoodie that I decided needed folding.

“But?! Aubrey, you’re not seriously gonna leave me starved for information here!”

“I mean, I did make out with Noah and I’ve seen Oli’s dick, so…”

Her squealing, I was pretty sure, could be heard next door and I couldn’t help but laugh. Lia was nothing if not supportive of basically anything I did.

I gave her a quick rundown of the last few days, keeping some of the details to myself while still letting her know what I’d been up to, including just about every endeavour I’d found myself in with the guys. She did nothing short of react appropriately, aw-ing and ooh-in and gasping and laughing. I’d missed having her around.

In the middle of me letting Lia know that, yes, I most definitely got cleaned up after last night’s escapade and, no, Oli and I hadn’t spoken about it yet and also, no, I didn’t think Noah knew, when the door to the dressing room flew open and revealed Oli himself.

“Speak of the devil,” Lia mused and I briefly panicked about her letting Oli know just what we were talking about, even though I knew fully well she would never betray me like that.

“I could say the same about you,” Oli replied, attempting to sound cruel but unable to hide the smile on his face.

“Why on earth would you have been talking about me?”

“Oh, I wasn’t. I was referring to the part where you are the devil.”

“Oh, you bastard!” Lia exclaimed with a laugh. “You coming out with us after the show?”

“Hell no. We got an early bus call and a four-hour drive to Glasgow. And I know what you get up to, Lia.”

My heart sank a little, even though I knew Oli was only being reasonable. We did only have a few hours in the hotel before we needed to get going again. I was going to be fine, really - I planned on not getting blackout drunk and there wasn’t too much left for me to do tomorrow that I hadn’t already taken care of. Plus, I wasn’t the one who had to be up on stage that night delivering the show of their life.

“Fucking party pooper.”

“I’m so much of a party pooper that I specifically came to get you two because Bad Omens are about to start. Managed to organise some wine for you too. Good enough?”

“Just about,” Lia mused, standing up and walking past him and out of the room with the confidence only someone who had on idea which way the stage was could have. We both looked at her leave, overly amused, until I remembered she was my friend and I should probably make sure she wouldn’t get completely lost.

Oli stopped me at the door. “You gonna stop by when you get back tonight?”

“I could just text you that I got back safe, you know. It might get late.”

He slung his arm around my waist, pulling me into a side hug, a telling smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll gladly wake up for you.”

•••

I wasn’t quite sure how we ended up in Oli’s suite - a suite! Motherfucker had a suite all to himself! - playing questionable drinking games (Truth or dare? Never have I ever? 21 questions? Honestly, it was hard to tell at this point) way past midnight and maybe it was because I was a little intoxicated - not drunk, I was still aware I had a bus ride in just a few hours - but I was tipsy enough not to question it just yet.

The evening had gone something like this: Oli had, in fact, organised two bottles of wine and exclusive seats for us during the show. Lia was blown away by Bad Omens and the way Noah sang and how she couldn’t blame me at all for crushing on him. Then, Lia followed it up by being blown away by Bring Me The Horizon and their production and the Oli’s stage presence and the fact that I had somehow not banged him yet. Especially when he effectively climbed his videographer. Didn't help with the thoughts in my head either. Both of those bottles were killed by the time the show was over.

We had briefly ventured out to Lia’s favourite bar for a few shots, but had quickly realised that talking about Oli and Noah in a crowded place full of people who had just left the very concert they had performed at, wasn’t the wisest decision. So, with some more alcohol in tow, Lia had stolen my phone and texted the two men and somehow, somehow convinced them to join us for a little afterparty. Now all of us were feeling the buzz and going along with Lia’s questionable ideas.

“Worst place you’ve ever vomited?”

“Just about every single time it happened on stage, and love, it happened,” Oli laughed. Those had been the bad times. I didn’t miss them at all. I’d trade them for this version of Oli, happy, healthy, optimistic, flirty, bloody gorgeous any day.

“Alright. No need to get into that. Noah, empty your wallet and show everyone what’s inside.”

Noah didn’t hesitate, grabbing the item from the back pocket of his trousers and emptying its contents. There wasn’t too much interesting stuff in there - ID, a credit card, some loose change in more than one currency. Lia grabbed onto the condom wrappers immediately. Three of them.

“Ultra thin, extra lube, ribbed,” she read aloud. “Damn, someone knows how to treat their partners.”

Noah blushed a little under the redness that the alcohol had already flushed his cheeks with. I was pretty sure I did the same, my mind running away with thoughts. This was good. He quickly gathered them up again and stowed them away but I didn’t think he missed the way Oli raised his eyebrows at him. Surprise enough that he didn’t say anything.

“Aubrey, who would you like to kiss in this room?”

“Who wouldn’t I like to kiss!” I giggled, taking another sip of wine, even though it was starting to get to my head. Obviously.

“Well, me, hopefully, or you’ll have to deal with my wife,” Lia laughed, holding up the wedding ring on her finger. “Anyway. What caused your last relationship to break down?”

She didn’t aim the question at anyone in particular, but Noah, sweet, closed-off Noah, suddenly had an intense urge to answer.

“What didn't,” he groaned, throwing his had back and cradling the bottle in his hands. “Touring, the distance, the groupies that don’t exist, the missed phone calls, the not being enough.” He threw his hands in the air in defeat. I thought it was the most he had revealed about himself, like, ever. “And here comes the kicker. I was talking about proposing to her with the guys and looking up rings the very morning of the day she broke up with me.”

Silence engulfed us. A comment from Folio, just a few days ago, and Noah’s very unamused answer was whirling in my head, but I was too intoxicated to make perfect sense of it right now. I just knew there was a connection.

I didn’t know if telling him I was sorry would cut it. Bit of a big deal, really, finding someone to marry who drops you like that. What do you say to that? Luckily, good old Oli jumped in pretty much immediately.

“Emotionally unavailable and obsessed with myself,” he said. “Pretty sure that’s a direct quote, too. Probably not too wrong about it either.”

Apparently we were sharing break-up stories now. My turn, I decided.

“Told her that, very theoretically, mind, I would be open to polyarmory. Because, you know, I definitely think you can be in love with more than one person. And if everyone’s happy, I’m sure there’s something great about relationships that aren’t just two people. Well,” I mused, throwing back another sip of wine to keep myself going, spilling a little on my top, “all she heard was ‘this is an open relationship without any rules now’ and went and banged someone else the next day.”

The three of us looked each other, throwing pitiful looks around, realising we were all pretty fucked up in our own ways, and suddenly broke out laughing. It almost took my breath away, the intensity of the relief of sharing these little things with people so dear to me, letting them understand me a little better, understanding them a little better in return and oh god more wine on me. These jeans would have to go straight into the washing.

“Enough tearjerker stories,” Lia announced, but there was no malice in her words. “Let’s get back to the fun questions! Worst sex experience! Oli, please, I want to hear yours.”

“Alright, first one that comes to mind right now, couple of years ago, right, I hook up with this girl, all fun and games, but it’s very fucking tame, you know? And out of nowhere she just fucking chokes me. I’m not saying I don’t like it, but that proper came out of fucking nowhere. Like. Normally, you’d ease up to it, if you hadn’t talked about it.”

Suddenly, Oli seemed to be sitting much closer to Noah than before. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination. Or the light.

“You’d have your hands on them somewhere,” Oli explained, drawing out his words, as his hand landed on Noah’s chest. He was caught off guard for a moment, but silently allowed the moment to play out. “Slowly move them up, see if they enjoy it.”

Oli followed through. Noah was definitely enjoying it. I was transfixed on the display in front of me.

“Get a little skin-on-skin contact.”

His fingers were tracing the line where Noah’s shirt ended, just letting his fingertips play with the hem a little. I’d never seen Oli so gentle, but it was doing things to my body. Noah’s breathing was speeding up now, chest heaving, unable to keep it hidden. I couldn’t blame him at all.

“See how they react to your hand being closer to their throat.”

Oli’s hand moved higher, carefully stroking the skin at Noah’s neck. Noah swallowed, hard, his eyelids fluttering shut. It was as if he was loosing all control over his bodily reactions. It was intoxicating to watch.

“And maybe, you know, if they don’t move away or move your hand, you can give it a try.”

And Oli did. Wrapping his hand around Noah’s throat and squeezing a little. Just the slightest bit. Just the possibility of more. And Noah moaned.

“And that’s my cue to get myself on an uber home!” Lia declared loudly, standing up and just about catching the wine bottle that had been in her lap before it toppled over onto the carpet. She was swaying a little, quite obviously the most drunk out of the four of us and I quickly made the executive decision to accompany her downstairs and wait with her. Oli gave me a nod, a satisfied smirk on his face. Noah didn’t look at me at all, but he seemed to be questioning all his life choices.

“Girl! What’s going on between the two of them? I knew you were developing… something with both of them, you didn’t tell me about the two of them with each other!”

I awkwardly fumbled with Oli’s room key as we descended on the lift. “I don’t think they know either.”

“But, do you mind?”

I looked at her, thoughtful for a moment, almost missing the time frame to leave the lift as it arrived in the lobby. Did I mind?

“No,” I answered, without giving it any further thought, just knowing. “No, I really don’t.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Lia giggled, giving me a hug so enthusiastically it almost toppled us over. “Now go, go and get them together and then get them both for yourself.”

•••

I didn’t knock when I used the key card to get back into Oli’s room. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that I was going to be back - not only had I actively snatched the card from the desk but I had also left all my stuff in there. Still, none of us had seen the situation coming, apparently.

The first thing I saw when I entered the room was that neither Oli nor Noah were still sitting on the couch. The second thing I saw was that Oli had pressed Noah against the wall instead.

They didn’t notice me immediately, too caught up in their own world as Oli frantically pressed his lips to Noah’s. Entangled as if they simply couldn’t get close enough, one of Oli’s hands was in Noah’s hair, keeping him in place, keeping him complacent, the other running up the outside of his thigh, as Noah was pawing at Oli’s back, as if not sure what his hands were looking for, but trying all the same. My heart fluttered with… love? The door falling shut behind me caught their attention.

They didn’t jump apart. In fact, their hands were still exactly where they had left them. But both of them had turned their heads so fast it looked painful.

“Don’t stop on my account,” I grinned. “I’m very much enjoying this.”

Noah was visibly shaken up and out of breath and I wondered if that was what happened to people who got to kiss Oli Sykes, but Oli himself was in the best of moods.

“See, I heard that you went and kissed our Noah here,” he explained, slowly detaching himself from him. Noah’s body almost followed on its own account, seemingly not having enough of the other man just yet. “And I got really, really jealous. But now I’m realising that means he got to kiss you, too.”

“There’s really no need to be jealous, at all,” I replied, letting him come closer and closer, just to push him back onto the couch. Straddling his lap, my thighs on either side of his, was a logical conclusion. “You can kiss me anytime.”

There was a hint of hesitation. Something familiar in his eyes, something like home. A decade-long friendship that was begging to be ruined. I knew he saw the same in me. We’d done things with each other, things to each other, that went beyond any regular friendship. But this moment, this temptation of finally getting his mouth on mine, a kiss, felt like it weighed so much more heavily on both of us.

His hands landed on my thighs, moving up to the small of my back, giving me security and safety and all rationality be damned, I leaned down and allowed my lips to touch his.

A shockwave travelled through every inch of my being, then the tension evaporated, as if this was where I'd always meant to be. Oli was soft and pliant under me, a stark contrast to how he usually presented himself, to how he usually behaved around me even, but I indulged in the feeling, grabbing onto his arms to make them wrap around me, letting him hold me close, tightly. I couldn't stop my own hands from tracing along his torso, his neck, his face, silently mapping his body in a way I had never been allowed to before. When his tongue licked against my lips, I let him in.

The kiss became more frantic as I lost all self-control. Years and years of unfulfilled desires poured into us as I pressed myself into him. Oli tasted sweet, so much sweeter than expected, even with the beer still lingering. I could feel myself falling, deeper and deeper, like a feral animal willingly setting foot into a trap, the temptation of the bait calling too loudly to ignore.

I noticed the couch dip before my brain realised Noah was next to us. Then his hand was at the back of my head, gripping my hair and pulling me off Oli. Instantly, he had me turned toward him, Oli’s hands still on me, my body still on his lap, but now my lips were crashing into Noah’s. It was electrifying, his frantic kiss, how his lust must have built as he watched us. Oli’s mouth now at my neck, licking along my tendon, finishing it off with a soft bite.

Noah swallowed my moans easily, still holding me in place, still roughly moving my head to his own wishes. Oli was grinding up into me, his hard dick against my core making me squirm even through the layers, thoughts of what it had looked like, what he had looked like overwhelming my mind. When Noah let go of me it felt so sudden that I almost lost my balance, hands trying to find the couch table behind me as a way to steady myself. The dull noise of a bottle hitting the carpeted floor had all three of us halt in our movements.

The wine ended up on the carpet after all, like a bad metaphor for whatever the three of us had just started and might be unable to stop.

I got up from Oli’s lap, Noah also standing up as if he suddenly didn’t know where he was supposed to be anymore. The awkwardness in the room was tangible, the lines we had just crossed almost becoming visible in my mind as my tipsy brain struggled to make sense of the consequences.

When Noah and I announced our separate departures, Oli didn’t say a word, still staring at the dark red colour seeping into the plush beneath his feet. Both of us went in opposite directions in the hallway. I didn’t know if that was supposed to be a metaphor too.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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viccharine · 8 months

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do you guys ever listen to a band so much that you end up making fake merch for it?

(reblogs greatly appreciated!!!!)

close ups and commentary under the cut!

about the poster itself: do you guys know how hard it is to make art for a band that hasn’t been active in 13 years? the answer is HARD (yes, i probably could done research and looked for old interviews for inspiration but who has time for that)

—> the icons related to “take a vacation!” are inspired by lyrics from the song “take a vacation!” (haha, did you see what I did there?) specifically, the lines “we’ll leave the waves at the ocean” and “we’ll leave the sand in a suitcase”

—> the Jon Walker and Ryan Ross icons are taken directly from the album cover (it took ten years off my life trying to figure out how to get them on here w/ the color palette—graphic design may be my passion but I never said i was GOOD at it)

—> the heart imagery comes from the fact that the band’s called “the young VEINS”—although it annoys me IMMENSELY that i technically drew more arteries than veins in the icons (my anatomy teacher would be so disappointed, but alas, anatomical accuracy had to be sacrificed to make it. yknow. look nice)

—> i did hand-lettering for all the text except for everything that’s in Helvetica (i did THAT in canva). the art program i use has a basically unusable text tool so I was forced to draw all of it, so I choose to believe that the reason why it doesn’t look. the best. is because of the caffeine shakes

some extra commentary: am I the only one who’s genuinely REALLY bad at listening to music? i don’t really get into bands as much as i just find songs that sound nice—to illustrate the extent of this issue: i did NOT know that Brendon Urie was a part of Panic! At the Disco. I’m not even kidding, I thought the artist who made Death of a Bachelor and the artist who made A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out were completely different and just. didn’t bother to check if I was right.

also, I’m not the type of person to be interested in band lore???? I rarely know the names of band members if even I’ve listened to the band for years (I really couldn’t care less in most situations)

case in point, i did not know who the FUCK Ryan Ross was!!! i knew he was in p!atd but that’s literally about it—before a couple of days ago if you asked to me pick out either Ryan Ross or Jon Walker from a line up I would not be able to get even CLOSE

anyway, my friend/manager is really into band lore, so I basically got a crash-course in all things “early to late 2000s emo band” and subsequently found out about the Young Veins (i was also extremely disappointed when I found out they only had one album and hadn’t been active in over a decade) THEN I realized that decade old, inactive bands don’t usually have merch, so I made my own! “merch” used lightly—i don’t think this is actually fit to sell lol

anyway that’s all k thanks byeee :D!! (and go stream the young veins!!)

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boundinparchment · 8 months

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Sand and Shells

In which you receive a gift from a friend, who may be more than he seems.

Pure Neuvillette fluff. Dedicated to @surveyycorps because otters are adorable.

Sometimes, you came to this beach outside the city to think. Not always the same time and not always the same day of the week, but nonetheless, it was a ritual. Rain or shine, this was your spot.

You removed your shoes, settled onto the sand, and stuck your feet in the water. Like always. Work was particularly difficult right now; you needed solutions to problems, not short-term fixes, and it was impossible to think at your desk. Especially when the tension and frustration was so thick, you would need a claymore to cut through it. Your supervisor answered to the Chief Justice and you had a feeling that perhaps certain things were being hidden to save face.

As if that would spare a dismissal or a lawsuit.

The Court didn’t take anything lightly, especially clerical errors from poor management.

Resting your cheek on your knee, you stared off into the distance, watching the sun on the ripples of water. It was quiet out this way. The occasional otter, a school of fish, or some crabs but otherwise, you were entirely unbothered.

That was, until you made eye contact with an otter nearby. It tilted its head, watching you. In its paws, a pink shell. Probably lunch.

You gave a small smile and waved. Otters were always fun to watch, especially in their true element underwater, where they glided and flipped and soared. To your surprise, the otter tilted its head in the other direction and gave a distinct chirp before it darted off.

Guess these guys aren’t too used to human company, you thought.

You shifted, clearing your head further and running your fingers through the sand. So lost in thought, you didn’t hear the putter patter of paws on sand nor the chirp; you jumped when you saw the flash of blue and white as a shell was laid at your feet. The otter squeaked but remained close by, watching you on hind legs.

It wasn’t scared after all…

In fact, its eyes were different too. Not inky black at all but silver and purple…more like a melusine…

“Is this for me?” you asked, picking up the shell. “Thank you. I ate already though. You should have it.”

The otter shook its head. When you didn’t open it, it took out a rock from a fur pocket and brought it over.

“If you insist…”

Prying open the shell, you didn’t see the typical meat at all, but rather a pearl, black as night. Pearls themselves were rare out here, let alone those of different color. You plucked it out carefully and marveled at its iridescence.

You smiled and looked back at the otter. Clearly it wanted approval. It understand human speech, to some extent. How odd.

“Thank you. It’s very pretty. I’ll keep it safe. Take your rock back, you need that.”

Offering the stone in the flat of your hand, the otter took it and tucked it back into its pocket. With a chirp and a squeak, it walked away back towards the water; it looked back once and waved before departing back smoothly into the lake.

What an odd little fellow.

You held up the pearl again. There was a jeweler on the way back to your office. Rings would get in the way…a necklace, then. Why let such a beautiful pearl go to waste?

Weeks later, upon a surprise inspection, your supervisor was fired. Chief Justice Neuvillette would, to the best of his schedule, oversee the transition. He spent time getting to know names and faces, and when he came to you, your heart stopped.

His eyes were always so captivating but…surely…

“Black pearls are quite rare. The jeweler did a lovely job…they’re difficult to work with.”

You swallowed and pressed your fingers to the pearl, cold against your skin.

“It‘s from a friend. I doubt I’ll ever meet them again, so I wear it to remember them.”

“Ah. Then they’re quite lucky to have someone as thoughtful as you.”

You would remember that smile, soft and genuine, for days to come.

#neuvillette #gender neutral reader #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette x gn reader #yes yes hydro dragon allegations but also: otter

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kitorin · 8 months

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journal.

in which, itoshi rin's midnight writing exposes what he's kept concealed from you.

contents. itoshi rin x reader, 2.878 k words, fluff, angst (in the past), itoshi backstory spoilers (mixed with a few headcanons), 1st person rin pov for a bit (journal entry), regular highschool au

a/n. is this my best? no. but is it the best i have for today? yes. happy birthday to rin <3 after assignments are done i'll definitely rewrite this (i gave up on proofreading)

10 / 09 / 2023 : SUNDAY, 12:04 am - 3:21 am

Solitude has never been a foreigner.

In fact, he's quite a familiar individual, an old companion that never seems to leave.

Even before Nii chan left for Spain, solitude was still there for me. During class I wouldn't utter a word to anyone else unless necessary, and contrariwise for said classmates. People still spoke to me; just not to the extent that they'd know what my favourite foods were, or what I liked to watch in my free time, not even bothering with it. I've never been invited to hang out with anyone after school, or been to someone else's house (not that I particularly cared, I was just sure that I was the only one).

But I was okay with it. I didn't want, or need anyone else when Nii chan bought me ice blocks, giving me the bigger piece as we'd watch the sun's warm hues bleed into the sky; the saccharine iciness contrasting how warm is was to be swallowed by sunlight together. Dad took us fishing a lot, he's always been well acquainted with the sea, taking us to locations well populated by bream; my favourite. On our way home we'd harvest kelp (Nii chan likes it in rice, salted) and take photos together on our yacht, admiring how the sun greets the world farewell, sinking into the aquamarine. Mum makes amazing food, I'm constantly astonished at how she manages to memorise every preference, from my love for ochazuke to being able to pour the perfect amount of tea; the rice never becomes too soggy (even I can't pour the exact amount I like). Solitude was close to me, but my family were closer.

There's a lot I could say about them, they've done more than remember what I love and ensuring I was happy; I'm thankful they've delivered the right for me to be comforted, to have a shoulder to cry on, to be able to freely ramble on about whatever fascinated me.

I've always been happy, even if I'm alone outside of the walls I call home. Because whether I laughed my heart out or sobbed to the point I couldn't form a coherent sentence, I'd always come home running to my family. Nothing can beat dinner; where we all relish mum's food, ask each other about our days' and offer solace or advice when necessary.

I miss that. Terribly, to the point my heart aches.

I knew that Nii chan's departure to Europe (Spain, to be exact) would change a lot. I'd have to score without his guidance, walk home alone and buy my own popsicles. Dinner time would have one less soul to laugh with, and home would have one less to embrace.

I just never expected it to be painful change. I never predicted that his return would result in losing us entirely. I didn't think his homecoming would cause my immortal resentment towards the snow, or how my eyes prickle a bit at the mere thought of an ice block. I'd say it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me, separation from him following it on the list of my worst experiences.

Solitude avoided me at home, but wasn't enough.

One time on the way home, I was overhearing the team's conversations (nothing particularly new really) and it was a discussion about the future. It was honestly surprising to find out only some of us intended to become soccer players; Nagi would rather stream or compete in professional gaming, Kurona wants to study marine biology in uni, and Yukimiya wants to give acting a go along with his modelling career. Even Isagi has a plan for if professional soccer isn't an option. He said he wanted to help others achieve their dreams if he fails to do so himself.

I remained silent as always, but had a lot more thoughts racing through my mind. Retreating to my room immediately that night, my first thought was to lie in bed, to neglect the clips I planned to analyse, to ignore muscle training for today and to slack off a bit. That's when I realized how sad the life I was living. I was sad because I was reminded of my reality.

I'm a mere myriad of distinguished achievements, though a hideous attempt of replicating genius Itoshi Sae. I'm a collection of formidable accomplishments, basking in the spotlight of glory and honour. The trophies and awards adorning my room prove it, standing tall with pride and flaunting my hard work.

That didn't mean anything. I had remained in a constant cycle of training, eating, and sleeping. My teammates were just as ambitious yet still worked hard on other things; Yukimiya enjoys modelling and Reo has a passion for economics, That must've been where I was lacking.

That's how I ended up writing again. It was an attempt to break out of this cyclical torture of constant training and sports.

I don't know how I remembered it, but I found my notebook from primary, all the stories messily scrawled yet legible. Scarlet adorned narratives birthed from child-like imagination, eulogising the prose, even though I almost flinched out of embarrassment.

Flipping through the pages, I had found the paragraph my teacher left me, insisting that I keep writing. Obviously, I never did. After getting into soccer I ignored everything school related, and would've found words on a page foolish anyways.

Many years later, I finally followed that advice.

The end result wasn't pretty. I paused a lot, struggled a lot, and almost gave up, a lot. It may have been hideous, but it was mine. A piece birthed from curiosity and memories from the past turned into another attempt. Another attempt morphed into extensive reading, I wanted to observe what was considered worthwhile or meaningless.

Writing rewove the early nights into late night reading, fully immersed in the author's thoughts translated into prose. Reading was the push to giving academics a go. Academics pulled me out of the endless cycle of soccer, there was more to life than training and diet regulation.

Books I can read. Words I can write. Exams I can study for and sports I can practice. Weights I can lift and competitions I can train for.

But to be loved, is so difficult.

It's not like an exam that you can study for and simply memorise the answers to. Or a match that has the security of a referee and reinforced rules. It's not something that can be guaranteed with a mentor.

People treat Isagi to his favourite whenever he has a bad day (he likes kintsuba). People advocate their favourite novels to Yukimiya and Chigiri, even going as far as memorising their preferences to curate their recommendations flawlessly. It must be nice, for someone to invest that sort of effort in you, even if it's simply remembering a hobby.

As my peers savoured the allure of love, estrangement and desolation constantly haunted me; a pest habituating the sleepless nights where I try to escape with a cup of coffee that's long gone cold.

It's lukewarm, praying for another's attention, care and love, to be hungry for one's time. I pathetically plead whoever manipulating my fate to provide me some sort of human connection. I shouldn't be so hopeful of others, yet I find myself dying of curiosity; what would it be like for someone to remember my birthday? Or tell me about the horror movie they adored?

I despise solitude's clinginess. But I hate how it makes me sob endlessly when no one watches.

I have myself. I have my thoughts which I've transcribed to oeuvre. I have the pile of books resting on my bedside table which sleep alongside with me. I have the trophies and awards I've won, I'll always appreciate my own talent and diligence, even if playing soccer brought me so much pain.

I think I'm somewhat pretty. I find my prominent eyelashes special to me, it's something unique to both me and Nii chan. My physique isn't too bad, either. I like the way my legs look, and my shoulders as I dry my hair.

I've always been proud of myself. I've always been enough and I always will be. Just not for others.

That's why I never expected my bond with solitude to be severed so easily. Especially because of y/n out of all people.

I still don't get how it happened. The oblivion to their presence became a peculiar first impression. An odd first meeting turned into abrupt yet regular greetings amidst hallways. Soon, I was sitting with them in every class, passing notes during tedious lessons and discussing our favourite media on the bus ride home.

Before I knew it, passionate rambles about books turned into watching movies together in my room. Whenever they greeted me their friendly wave was replaced with a tight hug, passing notes in class were accompanied with subtle kisses on the cheek.

Our relationship as friends was reimagined to lovers.

Something must've possessed me to blurt out the stupid crush I had on them, and I thank whatever drove me to do that. As awkward as I was it doesn't compare to the skip of my heartbeat when they accepted my feelings.

It's been almost a year since I met them, yet I still feel hot whenever they hold my hand, and flush red at every compliment they whisper. I still find myself stuttering sometimes whenever they're showing me a new outfit they've styled.

I love the way they smile, the creases of joy that adorn the outer corner of their eyes, and how they squint with glee and the sweet, melodious laughter that accompanies it; how breathless they sound whilst laughing. The expression they wear when deep in thought fascinates me, even if it's midway through an exam or them simply observing a video Bachira sent them. I adore their late night thoughts they text me at 3 am, the fatigue itching my eyes seem to evaporate when I notice their name on the notification. I treasure the notes we've scrawled on spare sheets of paper, they're still in between the pages of my books.

Even now, they're sleeping soundly in my bed, arms wrapped around the plush I bought them; I keep getting distracted by the sight of them so relaxed, chest rising up and down with each breath.

I would die for them. Because now I don't need to pretend to be invested on my phone to look less lonely. Now, I don't need to put my bag on the seat next to me to make it look like I sit alone by choice. I don't have to persuade the teacher to let me do group projects alone, or have to observe others with jealousy. Someone defends me from disparaging comments.

Because now, I'm not alone.

7:15 am

THE ENTRY COMES TO AN END, AND EMBARASSMENT DUSTS Rin's face a faint tint of pink. His eyes avoid contact with yours— as he waits for your input his latest piece.

"Well? What do you think?"

You're not sure where to start. You've always known about his strained relationship with his older brother, and how his friendship with his teammates wasn't the same in the beginning. But he never explained it in detail; you wouldn't've guessed that he had some sort of chionophobia, or even cried because he felt so secluded from others. The thought of him concealing his tears and pain from the rest of the world made your eyes prickle and sends your heart racing miserably.

"Doesn't matter—" He reaches for the notebook, closing it and tossing it onto his desk. "Forget it, you didn't see anything." He plops backwards again, head hitting the pillow and groaning as he covers his face with his forearm. "It was shit anyways, I'll rip it out and toss it later."

"It wasn't."

Rin stays silent.

You lie down, mimicking his current position and cup his cheeks with your hand. "You'll never be alone again—, I promise you that." Your voice falters ever so slightly, the thought of his pain makes you feel weak in the knees and sick to the stomach. "You're more than enough, you always have and always will be. You don't need anyone's validation to be beautiful, you never did."

Rin sighs, "I'm only like that because of you." Yet something seems to throb in his heart, the small but overpowering part of him that insists he requires another's approval to be important— someone finally proving that wrong.

"That's not true."

"Yes it is, our classmates still loathe me, so do people who barely see or speak to me." There was no lie in that; but it wasn't Rin's fault. "Yoichi and the others only spend time with me because of you."

"I was only the push for them to speak to you, you know they've always cared, they were just too nervous to speak to you. As competitive as he gets, Yoichi really admires you, to the point he gets so heated and ends up rambling about your skills." That's a secret that was supposed to remain in your private messages, but Yoichi doesn't need to know.

Satisfaction momentarily appears on Rin's face at the thought of his rival's great respect, though it doesn't last very long.

"He's my teammate so it's expected... everyone I speak to at school seems to have something against me, even our English teacher." The mistreatment at school is undeniable, it's not exactly bullying but there's no respect or human decency in how people behave towards him.

"Rin, love, you've done nothing wrong, hate isn't always rational. There will always be people who can't stand seeing others more successful, and that's not your fault."

"Really?" His eyes light up; despite having a sophisticated and cold demeanour all the time, he looks like a child again, hope dances in his wide eyes.

"Really." Your fingers take advantage of the opportunity and pinch his cheeks gently. "Don't listen to all those stupid rumours and assumptions, idiot. I'd fight anyone who tries to hurt you and win every time."

When your fingers let go he immediately kisses you, and it leaves you breathless; the way he pulls you in flexes his well toned biceps and his hand supports your head.

"Thank you." Rin whispers, pulling away a bit. "Thank you for appreciating me. Thank you for everything." It's a rare occurrence for him to sound so frail, same goes for the tremble of his bottom lip.

"Of course, I love you more than anything."

"I love you too." It's escorted by a peck on your nose, and a soft expression sculpted on his face.

Before Rin can throw a blanket over the two of you again, you interrupt.

"You shouldn't throw that entry away." You still haven't forgotten his initial intention with it. "I don't get why you think it's shit."

"It's rushed. And it's just me waffling on about my feelings and the past. There's no proofreading, and it's rushed. It's not even complete either."

"That's the whole point of writing, no? It's the expression of our words and thoughts." You reach towards his desk to pick up the notebook. "Not everything has to be written in one sitting, too."

Rin doesn't bother stopping you from looking through the notebook at this point. "It's still stupid. It's just that I had the urge and motivation to write in the dead of night."

"Well. I like it."

Rin's stoic expression crumbles, revealing the bashful side he keeps concealed from the world. "Then that's good enough for me." The red on his cheeks tell you that you've won the argument.

You turn back to the entry page, impressed with his barely legible yet pretty handwriting. "You should've slept instead."

"I don't get tired anyways." He's quickly betrayed by the yawn clawing out of his throat.

"Liar. Why would you stay up writing so late... your sleep is important you know?"

"Because you are love itself. I won't get a wink of sleep if it means I can think and write about you instead." Rin's pulls you in again, tossing his notebook elsewhere as he leans in. "I promise I'll finish that entry, no— I'll write a book about you one day."

"Writing this, writing that, sleep first dumbass." A smile tugs at your lips as you pull Rin back into the position you were cuddling in a few hours ago. Even though you were the one who slept a lot more, fatigue itched your eyes, and a yawn spilled out too.

In response, Rin tosses a blanket over the two of you, whispering good night as you begin to nod off a bit. He should rest too, he has training tomorrow and has to go to the gym as well.

The Itoshi Rin from before would've slept immediately. In fact, he wouldn't've stayed up in the first place, let alone date someone. But the Itoshi Rin now instead stares at you, admiring each and every feature of yours. You're his savior, the luminescent moon irradiating his world, guiding him away from the grasps of solitude and embracing him with love instead.

Tagging: @yuzurins (yumi you inspired this fic btw lol)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #fluff #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi #rin #blue lock manga #blue lock rin itoshi #blue lock rin

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puppy-byun · 8 months

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Just Friends... Unless...? | Pt. 3

pairing: Hyunjin x Reader / a sprinkle of Seonghwa x Reader

rating: 18+

word count: 13.3k

genre: smut / friends to lovers / angst / university au

warnings: curse words, weed consumption and drinking (not by reader or hyunjin), angst, bad flirting, more angst, ANGST, sex, please use protection please be smart!!!!, fingering, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), light dirty talk, pet names

summary: You weren’t crushing on Hyunjin. You couldn’t be crushing on Hyunjin because you were just friends, and there was no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Right? Unless...?

note: we're already done with another one i can't believe... I hope you all had fun and enjoyed this & if you did I'd be happy if you leave me your thoughts in a reply or ask hihi

taglist: @chartrucewhore @hyunfruits @petalsnow @yaorzu-blog

previous | masterlist

You didn’t expect Chan to wait for you two days later after your lecture, leaning against the wall next to the exit of your classroom, arms crossed like a father waiting for his daughter to get home in the middle of the night.

“Uhm, hi?” you greeted, not unhappy to see your friend but something in your gut told you he was here with a purpose that you weren’t going to like. Nonetheless you gently disentangled his arms and hooked yours through instead, tugging him along down the hallway and towards the building’s exit. “To what do I owe the honor of you picking me up? Don’t you have classes, too?” you mock scolded, already having an idea why he was here. You were sending a silent prayer that you were wrong.

“I do but apparently if you fake a spontaneous bout of sickness they excuse you before you can throw up in their classroom.” Chan admitted with a proud grin and you swatted him over the back of his head, struggling to reach up.

“Skipping class, I see.” you tsked, shaking your head as if you were disappointed in him. “And here I thought you are a role model.”

Chan let out a dry chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “To whom? Jeongin already is the most responsible one out of you guys. I gave up a while ago with the rest of you.”

You laughed with him, knowing that he was only joking because while some of you were indeed slacking off at times, you knew no one more dedicated to their passions than your friends.

“Anyway, I know what you’re doing, and you know just fine why I’m here.”

“Yes actually I just remembered I wanted to talk to my professor so I’m gonna head back-“ you were already about to turn around and make a swift exit to anywhere where Chan wasn’t but he had expected this and caught your arm faster than you could dive away from his grasp.

“Oh no. We are going to talk now.” Giving in with a sigh you let him pull you along but refused to say anything. This talk would only happen if Chan coaxed it out of you word by word.

“Here, I brought you some endorphins because I have a feeling you need them,” he started, fishing one of your favorite chocolate bars out of his bag. You took it with a mumbled thank you but refused to look at your friend, focusing on the chocolate instead.

“Chan, we already talked at that stupid pool party. What more is there to talk about?”

“For starters, we could talk about what on earth went down after we talked, because Seungmin, Minho and Felix have all separately told me that Hyunjin is basically living in the practice room ever since that night.”

“That’s like, two days. He’s done that before, it’s normal,” you waved him off nonchalantly, refusing to admit anything as long as you didn’t have to. You wish you could say you had managed to not think about that night much, or at least everything that had gone down before you had gone inside with Seonghwa. But your mind was as hyper-focused on Hyunjin as ever, even when he was being an absolute idiot.

“We all know that, but if they’re worried you know it’s exceeding the normal extent. And the fact that you’re not looking at me and keep pretending this chocolate is the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen is telling me that you know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“Why don’t you go talk to him then?” you huffed, trying not to come off as snappy because Chan didn’t deserve your frustration.

“Because you were my friend first. I can tell you’re unhappy and I want to help, but if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t do that.”

“You can’t help either way, Chan. But alright,-“ you conceded with a sigh “I’ll tell you. Hyunjin and me kissed, okay?” you dropped that bomb in as meek a voice as possible, ready to move on with your retelling and not dwell on this. “And then he-“

“Hold up, stop right there. When?“ he physically stopped mid-walk, eyes big and hand held out in front of your chest, automatically causing you to look up at him.

“Karaoke night.” You answered automatically. “The others took Jisung home and I offered to take Hyunjin because he was drunk. That’s when.” You finished lamely, hoping to skip the recounting of this night in any more detail.

“The next day he didn’t remember anything. Or he pretended not to remember anything. I doesn’t really matter, because I realized how fucked I am either way. And ever since then things have been really weird between us. The kiss-“ you cringed a bit at that word because it had been so much more, and if it really just had been a kiss the whole situation probably wouldn’t have blown up quite like this. “After the kiss it was weird because I remembered. And whether purposely or not, Hyunjin didn’t. But I thought we’d be fine when he asked if I’d come to the pool party. And then he really exploded on me in a nasty way and now everything is even worse.”

“Was that before or after you got cozy with Seonghwa?”

“After,” you added meekly, his gaze telling you exactly where he was going with this. He didn’t even add anything, just staring at you with a raised brow and letting the pregnant silence weigh in.

Finally you gave in, looking away with a grumpy huff because maybe Chan was making some points, but you had just as many to prove that he was wrong, the biggest one being that you had been friends for three years with no instance of Hyunjin ever indicating he wanted to be more than your friend other than that one time two weeks ago.

“You know, I’ve been talking about this with Changbin and Seungmin a lot, but actually everyone except for you knows.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant, but you also didn’t indulge him with a reply. Just because they thought they were pinpointing some signs correctly didn’t prove anything unless Hyunjn told anyone himself.

“Why do you think none of us have ever made a move on you, apart from the obvious reasons why I haven’t?”

“Because we’re friends,” you supplied with a tone that clearly implied a heavy duh. You didn’t miss the irony of saying the same thing about Hyunjin and you, yet everything between the two of you was vastly different.

“And you think just because we’re friends Jisung or Changbin have never had a crush on you?”

“What?!” you burst out, too shocked now to continue staying nonchalant and blasé about this when you hadn’t been the whole talk anyways.

Chan was only grinning because he knew he got you now. “Well anyways, that’s not the point,” he added unhelpfully, clearly not going to dwell on this topic right after he dropped a bomb like that.

“Why did you tell me then?!” you pressed on, your brain still processing his last few sentences and not quite keeping up.

“To prove a point, obviously. They’re long over it now- actually over it, not the way you were over Hyunjin.” You punched him in the shoulder for that jab, even though he was regretfully completely right again. “They never acted on it because Hyunjin has always liked you, right from the very beginning.”

“As if Changbin is scared of competing with Hyunjin,” you scoffed, still not buying what Chan was selling you because the idea that Hyunjin liked you was simply too ridiculous.

“He’s not, of course, but everyone can tell how much Hyunjin likes you and no one wants to hurt him that way.”

“Chan, I appreaciate the effort of making me feel better, but none of this makes sense. Why was Hyunjin all over Chaeyoung if he allegedly likes me?”

“Why were you all over Seonghwa?”

“Because I want to get over Hyunjin and I want to prove to myself that I ca- oh.” You stopped mid-sentence, realizing you had talked yourself into this one. You hated to admit that Chan was making sense but there was no way to deny it. Neither you nor Hyunjin had ever had hookups in front of the other in those three years you had known each other, but as soon as you had, both of you had reacted so poorly it was downright embarrassing. Him getting drunk and throwing a fit, you jumping on Seonghwa’s offer to fuck just to prove a point. Maybe Chan was right after all. Yet, if Hyunjin liking you meant him treating you the way he had you weren’t sure you wanted it.

“He still said horrible things to me, Chan. I could tell he wanted his words to hurt. Who does that, especially since he allegedly likes me?”

“Feelings do make us act more irrational and stupid. And he was drunk.”

“Yeah, so? And on top of that he had plenty of time to apologize, yet he did not.”

Chan sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side in a comforting half-hug.

“Look, I’m not trying to protect him, I’m one hundred percent with you on this. But we’ve all done and said horrible things coming from a place of hurt. You’re not even sure if he remembers the kiss, yet you’re hurt he doesn’t mention it. But you were sober, and if he remembers but for some reason acts as if he doesn’t, then he knows you remember for sure, yet you don’t mention it either.”

You ignored that technically Chan was, once again, right. You couldn’t really blame Hyunjin if he was pretending not to remember, not unless you held yourself accountable too, because you could’ve brought it up just as well, but chickened out.

“So, we agree he’s probably lying to me?” you settled on instead, because this was easier. Being angry at Hyunjin was easier than facing that both of you screwed up big time.

“Listen, if this were any other guy I’d already have punched him in the face personally,” Chan assured you, squeezing your shoulder gently. “But it’s Hyunjin. We’ve all been friends for years. You have been in love for years-“

“Debatable on his part,” you protested just for good measure but Chan simply ignored the comment.

“-while I was hoping this would explode with you two finally fucking, it kinda went the other direction, but that doesn’t mean it’s unfixable.”

And he was right, you didn’t want to give up on this friendship, on Hyunjin, so easily. Feelings or not, he had been one of your closest friends for so long you did not want to lose that over something this stupid. But you were also hurt, and those feelings didn’t just go away either.

“I’ll think about it.” You finally admitted in defeat, feeling extremely overwhelmed with everything going through your head, but you couldn’t deny that talking to Chan had helped. “It’s just a lot to take in and I’m not sure what to do with any of this just yet.”

You weren’t sure a couple of days later either, but the world regrettably didn’t stop spinning for you to figure out your feelings, so you were left with very little choices but to confront them sooner rather than later.

“Come oooooon,” Chaeryoung was whining for the nth time this morning, and you couldn’t really be mad at her. “It’s a Jackson Wang party, you know we cannot pass on that.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to groan because she couldn’t know all the reasons you very well wanted to pass on a Jackson Wang party since you hadn’t told her. “I’ve literally heard damn near urban legends about his parties, and when we finally get invited to one you want to say no?!”

She had said this, too, at least twice already.

“What do you mean we? Last time I remembered Seonghwa asked me,” you joked, teasing her because this was the only thing you could do since you couldn’t outright be annoyed with her. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know you had good reasons not to go. If anything, you had to blame yourself for telling her Seonghwa invited you in the first place.

His text message was the first thing you had seen in the morning and in your half-asleep state you had not considered the consequences of telling Chaeryoung you had received an invitation to a party at Jackson Wang’s house. Not only was she dead-set on the fact that there was no way you would decline because she would, quote, ‘rather die than miss this opportunity’.

To make matters worse, she had consequently found out that the invitation had come from none other than Seonghwa directly. Since there were very few scenarios as to why he would invite you her mind immediately jumped to the one plausible conclusion. You didn’t feel like diving into a recount of your night �� especially because you’d rather not mention what led up to the decision to leave with Seonghwa, so you just let her construct her own picture of what had happened. You didn’t need to elaborate on whether you had actually slept with him or not before you found out he’s the biggest Star Wars nerd (the R2D2 underwear was a bit of a giveaway though) and had subsequently spent the rest of your night with him trying to convince you you just absolutely had to marathon Star Wars with him.

You were fairly sure that this wasn’t necessarily a booty call (although he probably wouldn’t say no either) – he actually just seemed to enjoy hanging out with you.)

Chaeryoung, however, who was nurturing a never-ending admiration from afar for Hongjoong, had smelled blood, convinced that this was the night she would finally get to make a move.

Since then she had not stopped pestering you for the last three or so hours, constantly bringing up new arguments why you had to go and why there was no reason not to, and you had trouble coming up with an excuse. You couldn’t very well tell her the truth, which was that there was a very high risk Hyunjin would be at the party as well, and you were far from having figured out your feelings and definitely not ready to face him. Then again, you doubted you would know what to do even if you had a week or a month to think about it. Plus, since you doubted Chaeryoung would let go of this, you finally gave in with a sigh, reaching for your phone to ask Chan if he would be going as well and could drive you.

“Don’t ignore me!” Chaeryoung huffed, plopping down on the sofa next to you to catch a glimpse at your phone. “Hold up, are you actually asking Chan do drive us? I convinced you?”

She looked at you so shocked you realized she hadn’t actually been sure she would succeed.

“As if you’d ever let me live it down if I got between you and your shot at getting with Hongjoong.”

“Very true, bestie,” she nodded, poking her tongue out and almost jumping up when your phone buzzed next to you. “Was that Chan? Is he driving us? God I can’t believe I’ll end up making out with Hongjoong tonight.”

If anything, you had to commend her confidence and drive, so you let her have the moment, even though you felt sick at the prospect of probably seeing Hyunjin again already.

Jackson’s house was big, at least from the stories you’d heard. That is what you were telling yourself to calm down and convince yourself there was a chance that you might be spared from running into Hyunjin. Those hopes were crushed mercilessly when you were towed towards Chan’s car by Chaeryoung a few hours later, and you spotted the one boy you had been hoping to avoid on the passenger seat next to Chan. Granted, you only saw the back of his head and the tiniest bit of side profile but that was enough for you to immediately recognize Hyunjin.

Your mood soured almost instantly, feeling a bit betrayed that Chan hadn’t even warned you. Yeah, he was still going with the whole ‘you both need to confront your feelings and sort this out’ thing, but there were subtle ways to push the agenda, and then there was this. Chaeryoung, still thankfully oblivious to the true reason of your hesitancy to go to this party, was dragging you to the car without slowing down, opening the door and greeting everyone with a bright and bubbly hello. You couldn’t share her excitement, half tempted to whack Chan over the head for forcing you into this situation. You hadn’t talked to Hyunjin in days, technically even longer if the awkward half-conversations via texts before that weren’t counted – and they shouldn’t be. And as if to fuck you over even more, the dim lights of the car were not enough to conceal his outfit. God, he had to be doing this on purpose.

He knew he looked good, of course he knew. Ever since he had grown out his hair and bleached it even he couldn’t not notice the effect he had on people around him. Despite that he barely went through any extra effort when you went out, knowing he looked breath-taking as it was.

Not tonight though. Tonight, as if struggling with your feelings for him day by day wasn’t torture enough, he wore his long hair open, casually tucked behind his ears to show off a row of earrings dangling. He’d even gone through the trouble of applying eyeliner – you’d only seen him do that once or twice, despite always telling him how good it looked, but of course tonight he’d remember. It wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the high sleeveless top, that didn’t just show off his arms and shoulders in a way that made it impossible not to look. No, as if that wasn’t enough, the sleeve cut outs were so big if he moved just a bit he might as well just go shirtless. You were just about ready to throw the door shut and run back to your dorm, abandoning ship, but Chaeryoung wasn’t having any of it. She grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the car so decisively you almost banged your head.

At least the light and angle were saving you from the sight of Hyunjin’s lean muscles peeking out thanks to that horrible shirt.

You mumbled out a greeting so silent and grumpy it was only rivalled by Hyunjin’s, and your hopes for having a decent, amicable evening were dwindling rapidly. The looks should have been an incentive to do what Chan kept urging you to do – either talk it out or finally get on Hyunjin’s lap – but in all honestly it only made you angry because there was no way this was a coincidence. He barely ever made an effort, and suddenly tonight he would make sure to tick all the boxes of everything you’d ever mentioned you found attractive?

You were still hoping that Hyunjin might be smarter sober, but the mood between you was undeniably icy already, so you weren’t very optimistic. Even though you hadn’t sorted your feelings out and talking to Chan had only made everything a lot more complicated you desperately wanted to find even the smallest reason to forgive Hyunjin to at least have your friend back. But he wasn’t even looking at you, giving you a vibe so frosty you doubted he even wanted to be forgiven. You had really hoped sober him would be more reasonable than drunk him, but you hadn’t counted on just how petty Hyunjin could be.

“You look good.” You barely caught Chan’s comment, snorting when the words filtered in because he was shamelessly exaggerating.

“If you’d say that to Chaeryoung I’d believe you. I’m wearing sneakers and a shirt, who are you trying to fool?”

You were surprised just how much you were able to shut out Hyunjin and shove those feelings aside even when he was right there. But even so the conversation simply felt off, and how could it not when two out of four people wouldn’t even properly look at each other. It was Chan’s own fault, really, for bringing you both in this situation, but poor Chaeryoung had no idea what was going on. She had undoubtedly caught on to the mood, if her squirming next to you was any indication.

Chaeryoung was talkative by nature, bubbly and sweet, but she could not handle awkward or uncomfortable silences so it had only been a matter of time before she would force up a conversation. You had come surprisingly far before she couldn’t take it any longer; but for the second time today her not being in the loop was coming to bite you in the ass, because what she caught on was the one topic she assumed all of you were in on.

“I wish I could just show up in shorts and a shirt, honestly, but I have a game plan for tonight and that’s getting with Hongjoong, and I’ll be damned if I don’t pull all the heavy weaponry,” she stated, pointing her finger towards her very generously low-cut top as if it hadn’t been clear already what she was talking about. “I still can’t believe you pulled Seonghwa without any effort and you don’t even let me in on your secrets.”

You had laughed when you’d told her about it the first time. It wasn’t so funny now, when you caught Hyunjin stiffen in his seat out of the corner of your eye. Chan, as small as a consolidation as it was, seemed to catch on that maybe this wasn’t the best conversational topic, but Chaeryoung couldn’t know that and judging by how she was worrying the edge of her dress nervously, visibly uncomfortable in this car ride, you already knew she wouldn’t read the room and stop talking.

“If you go home with him again tonight, which, by the way, I really think you should because that pretty boy is quite the catch, you have to tell us beforehand so we don’t end up looking for you all over the house.”

You just desperately wanted her to not push this topic any further but at this point the damage was done and your fingers were digging into the seat of Chan’s car. Hyunjin’s voice came like an icy cut, cold and with a snide you had barely ever heard from him. In a way, this was even worse than the weekend before, because this time he was sober.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask what that even was last weekend. I never pegged you to be the type of girl to throw herself at a guy the way you threw yourself at him.”

For a moment no one said anything, the words sinking in. You were honestly struggling to even come up with anything to say because you didn’t find it in you to throw something equally as malicious at his head when you didn’t mean it.

“What the hell, Hyunjin?!”

It was Chan who spoke up instead, sounding somewhere between irritated and furious, and while you were grateful he felt the need to stand up for you, you feared it would only make things worse. “As if you weren’t close to shoving your hand down Chaeyoung’s bikini top right in that pool. A bit hypocritical to call someone out for flirting, don’t you think?”

You knew Chan was judging neither of you for any of that. But he had already told you that if it were any other guy treating you this way he would’ve already punched him. Apparently Hyunjin slut-shaming you was tethering dangerously close to making Chan forget they were friends.

“Of course you’re going to pick her side.”

You weren’t sure whether you had wanted an answer from Hyunjin beyond that, because it was bad enough, but you should have expected that it would only get much worse when Chaeryoung decided she had to defend you, too, probably irritated at the fact that you were not speaking up for yourself. Outstanding qualities in a friend, but right at that moment you wished she would care for you a little less.

“So, when did you realize you have a crush? Before or after she fucked Seonghwa?” Chaeryoung’s voice was a sneer but what was worse was Hyunjin’s reaction upon hearing her words. Chan had barely parked the car, not even killed the engine yet, and Hyunjin stormed out without another word, banging the car door shut with such force all three of you flinched in your seats.

You had thought it couldn’t possibly be more awkward when you’d entered the car, but now with Hyunjin’s dramatic exit you realized you had been dead wrong. Chan was gripping the stirring wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, and you didn’t even need to fully look at Chaeryoung to catch the look of utter shock on her face. In any other situation you’d have laughed, but now you only felt empty and exhausted.

You didn’t know whether either of them was waiting for you to say something or not, but even if they were, there was nothing you could’ve possibly said. You were as affronted as they were, although probably a hell of a lot more hurt. But now that you were already at the party and the damage was done, there was little you could do, so you decided that you would at least try to make it as pleasant as possible for your friends.

“I thought you wanted to meet Hongjoong, what are we sitting around here for?” you quipped up at Chaeryoung instead, the cheerfulness in your voice sounding forced even to you, but it was honestly the best you could do. You were out of the car before either of them could say something and you heard the car doors shut behind you. Of course they wouldn’t simply leave it at that after what had just happened though.

“Are you sure you still want to go?” Chan’s voice was laced thickly with worry while you heard him hurry after you. You were crossing the ridiculously long driveway with big strides, even more grateful you had opted for sneakers instead of anything less comfortable. You didn’t look back, but you knew Chaeryoung had trouble keeping up with the way she was huffing between her words.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I was bringing up a touchy topic,” she asserted, sounding honestly guilty even though you’d never dream of blaming her for something that she couldn’t have known and wasn’t her fault.

“You’re clearly upset, can we please go get burgers or something instead and talk about this?” Chan was pleading to a rational part of you that had shut down the moment Hyunjin had banged the car door shut with anger. Of course you were upset, but no amount of talking or fast food could change that.

“Chan is right, this party isn’t important, let’s watch Netflix and trash talk Hyunjin instead,” Chaeryoung reinforced Chan’s arguments, but you weren’t even close to agreeing. Hyunjin had ruined enough of your time by making you upset about him. Turning around with an angry huff you shook your head decidedly.

“Guys, I appreciate your concern but it’s fine. I don’t care. Fuck Hwang Hyunjin.”

You found Seonghwa on the first level balcony, a laughably large space with various lounge chairs, a fire crackling in an iron brazier, and its own, second bar. There would definitely be no one leaving sober for a lack of alcohol.

Seonghwa was lounged on one of the lush looking pillows covering the beach chairs, surrounded by a few other people. You hadn’t been introduced to them but you knew them at least by sight, every single one of them infamous on campus in their own regard. Plastering the brightest smile you could muster on your face you crossed the balcony, side-stepping a few drunk people dancing until you reached Seonghwa, who was already looking at you with a dazzling smile, seemingly actually happy to see you.

“Hey angel. I see you put on the fancy shirt for me,” you glanced down, taking short notice of the shirt Seonghwa was talking about, only to confirm with a nod and a grin.

“Of course. I knew you, at least, would appreciate the effort I took.”

He was still wearing that big goopy grin, but you could tell even in the dim light that his eyes were a little unfocused. If the red cups littering the floor around them and the smell of weed were any indication, you weren’t surprised why.

“C’mere,” Seonghwa drawled, one arm wrapping around your leg so he could pull you towards him. You caught yourself by the edge of the lounge chair before you fell like an idiot, letting him move you on his lap until he was satisfied with the way every part of you was pressed against him as close as possible.

“I get horny when I’m high,” he giggled as an explanation, but probably also as an excuse, when his hand immediately slipped under your shirt to draw small circles on the skin of your hips. So, you might have not come here with the intention of letting this thing with Seonghwa progress anywhere further than indulging his nerdier side, but you were confused, hurt, and suddenly letting him comfort you didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Your evening had been ruined enough already, so it was easy to simply let yourself sink into his touch, enjoying the simplicity of spending time in someone’s company where you didn’t have to think beyond how you’d get home with him. Maybe the fact that Seonghwa’s and Hyunjin’s social circles didn’t really mingle, so the chances of seeing the latter again tonight were slim, did help.

Seonghwa was introducing you to his friends, Wooyoung and San, whose names you had already known by their reputation alone, but pretended not to out of politeness. You thought you were doing great, making polite conversation and laughing at their jokes even though most of them had some context you couldn’t understand since they were a pretty tight-knit group, and had been for years. But apparently you weren’t as smooth as you had thought you were because Seonghwa was pinching your side - a couple of times, judging by the impatient notion of the movement - to rip you out of your thoughts and get your attention.

“Who upset you angel?”

You froze for a second, whipping your head around to look at him, his stupidly perfect eyebrows scrunched in concern despite how drunk he clearly was.

“It’s nothing.” You waved it off, not wanting to get into it. You were looking for distractions, not yet another person to lament your stupid boy troubles to. “I just had a dumb fight on the way here and it’s pissing me off, although I’m trying not to let it.”

You tried to keep it short, not wanting to burden Seonghwa with things he probably didn’t care about. You got along, yeah, but you were far from calling him a friend already and there was probably no way he actually wanted to hear about your problems, despite looking concerned. And even if he did, you had barely talked about them with your closest friends, so you sure as hell wouldn’t with a near stranger, when all you wanted was to get said fight off your mind.

Seonghwa seemed to contemplate your words for a moment – or maybe he was just trying to make sense of them because he looked and sounded positively wasted and high off his ass. You weren’t quite sure which one it was until he bit his lip, hesitant to speak up.

“Just say whatever you want to say, Hwa. It can’t be worse than some things I’ve heard today already,” you sighed, encouraging him to speak up.

“That fight… was it with that Hyunjin guy?”

For a moment you were too shocked to reply, staring at him open-mouthed because if even his drunk and dazed mind had managed to come to that conclusion then you didn’t even want to know how much of this conflict had gotten through to your friends other than Chan.

“It’s- yeah. With him,” you ended lamely, not really knowing what else to say and since he’d already guessed it you might as well go with the truth. After all it had been Seonghwa who had been there last time when you had fought too, so he probably knew more than the people close to you did.

“I take it you did not talk it out?” he implored further, referring to the last fight where you had told Hyunjin that you would talk about it when he was sober, which ended up not happening. You only shook your head in confirmation to his words.

“Can I be honest with you?” the way he asked you knew that if you said no he wouldn’t hold it against you, but you had gone through so much shit the last weeks some part of you wanted someone to be honest and blunt.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, leaning on your arm to sit yourself up a bit higher and look at him properly.

“Truth is, I’ve been wondering how you spend so much time with all these guys and haven’t ended up fucking at least one of them.”

You had expected many things, but you hadn’t expected Seonghwa to say that. You burst out laughing, looking at him incredulously.

“Because we’re friends,” you emphasized, shaking your head in disbelief. “Nothing against friends fucking, but it’s not like that. They don’t think of me that way.”

Your mind immediately went back to the conversation you’d had with Chan and how he’d so nonchalantly mentioned that some of your friends had, indeed, been crushing on you at some point. And you were quite the liar as well, seeing as how you very much had wanted to sleep with Hyunjin, as friends or as more, so at some point at least one person in the group had thought of someone else that way.

Seonghwa seemed to have drawn a similar conclusion.

“Well, one of them clearly does.”

Obviously he meant Hyunjin, and you didn’t know if it made you feel better or worse that even your hook-up was under the impression that Hyunjin apparently was into you. Gnawing on your lip, you didn’t know what to tell him. You hadn’t sorted anything out and you had come to Seonhwa to have a good time, not to talk about your feelings for another guy.

“Tell you what,” Seonghwa finally sighed, seeing how you weren’t going to answer. He was sitting himself up straighter, gently pushing you off his lap and setting you on the space left on the lounge chair next to him. “I think you should go and clear your head. Whatever it is you guys got going on, you haven’t figured it out. As much as I’d enjoy sleeping with you, getting you to ride me is not the solution you seem to think it is. It’s only gonna make you feel more miserable. I’m a big boy, I can handle rejection. And I’m still holding you to that Star Wars marathon, sex or not.”

You couldn’t reply, still processing how drunk and high Seonghwa ended up giving you bette advice than anything you managed to come up with all evening.

“I like you. That’s precisely why I’m not going to sleep with you, because I think you should talk to that Hyunjin dude and at least give him a piece of your mind for being an absolute asshole to someone as stunning as you.”

If you had expected a lot, you had not expected this from Seonghwa. Despite the slur in his words he was making sense and it scared you how reasonable he was being, when he could’ve just used the chance to get you on his dick faster. But he was right, sleeping with him had sounded really smart in your head, but while the sex would make you feel good, the emotional mess you were in would only get worse. And while he didn’t seem to mind, it wasn’t quite fair to use him as a way to try and get over your crush.

“God, I wish I would have fallen for you instead, this is so much easier,” you cursed, gesturing between the two of you and Seonghwa shook his head with a snort.

“You don’t want that, angel, I’m here for good sex but there’s a lot of commitment issues to unpack.”

You rolled your eyes, whacking him on the arm. Now that you had, if not verbally, admitted to him, of all people, that you were in love with Hyunjin, everything somehow seemed much clearer and simpler.

“So, what am I supposed to do now, Hwa?” you implored, hoping that in his infinite weed-induced wisdom Seonghwa would be able to help you yet again, but it seemed his resources of deep advice were all dried up.

“I don’t know, get wasted? Have some really hot angry sex with that guy? Punch him in the dick? Although if it’s the latter I want to watch, ‘kay? Twitch stream it or something.”

You laughed incredulously, not missing how Seonghwa easily managed to make you feel much more relaxed and at ease even though the topic at hand never failed to make you anxious.

“I can’t believe I’m taking advice from you,” you quickly leant in, pecking him on the lips softly and very much innocently one last time, noticing the small pout on Seonghwa’s lips.

“If it goes south, my bed is still free.”

You threw him a thumbs up and rolled your eyes before politely excusing yourself from his friends. Despite what he’d suggested you weren’t about to look for Hyunjin right away. You definitely were not about to punch him in the dick – at least not yet. Rather, you were looking for Chan so he could take you home. Seonghwa’s words did make a lot of sense but tonight simply wasn’t the right time or the right place.

The house was bigger than you had guessed from the outside, a downright labyrinth and after declining a worrying amount of dubious drinks and strolling for thirty minutes without ever seeing the host himself you finally managed to at least find Chan. He hadn’t been picking up his phone so you’d had to resign to searching for him the old fashioned way, relieved when you finally spotted his mop of blond hair and his comforting voice in what seemed to be yet another guest room. He was sprawled on the bed with another familiar face sitting at the foot of the bed, head leant on the mattress. If you had thought Seonghwa was high you hadn’t been ready for Chan and Seokjin. You knew they were both older and had been friends for a while, Chan always ending up at the bar during karaoke Wednesdays to chat with Jin, but you hadn’t known what these two were usually up to when they spent time together. Hyunjin was there too, lying on a sofa with his phone in hand, but you were almost proud you didn’t even spare him more than a glance, almost staying indifferent.

Not knowing if Chan was in any headspace to have a conversation you decide to try your luck.

“Hey Chan, have you seen Chaeryoung?” you weren’t sure whether you should even expect an answer, but since Chan clearly wasn’t ready to take care of you in any way you decided your friend was the next safe option before you’d actually go back to Seonghwa and do something you might regret.

To your surprise he did mumble something in reply that vaguely sounded like ‘Hongjoong’, which you took as a good sign. Maybe this evening had gone the way it was supposed to for your friend at least. It also meant you couldn’t count on her now, but that was alright if it meant she was getting with the guy she’d been drooling over for months.

However, Chan couldn’t possibly drive you, which also meant you were pretty much out of options. As if he was reading your thoughts Chan slowly sat up, soft smile and eyes hazy, holding the blunt he was smoking in your direction.

“You look like you need this,” he offered as an explanation and you cringed a little inwardly at how obvious you were being time and time again.

“That’s very sweet, but no thanks,” you declined, knowing he only meant well, because he always had your best interest in mind. Contemplating what to do now you fell silent for a moment, feeling Chan’s scrutinizing gaze on you. You were hoping he was too out of it to notice that ever since you’d left the car earlier things had become even more of a mess, but you clearly underestimated him.

“What’s up? Wait why are you not with-“ even high he easily interpreted your panicked glare as a sign to shut up. You didn’t want to bring this topic up in front of Hyunjin yet again for the second time tonight, although since he was in the room as well you also couldn’t very well explain to Chan what had happened. Your mind was rattling with ways to come up with an explanation that would be so nondescript it wouldn’t give away your predicament, but it wasn’t necessary, because Chan caught up scarily fast, sending a quick glance towards Hyunjin before focusing back on you.

“You wanna go home?” You did, but Chan was halfway to getting up and there was no way you’d let him make such a phenomenal mistake and drive in this state just so you’d feel better.

“It’s fine Chan, don’t worry. I’ll just call an Uber or something,” you smiled softly to reassure him. “I can probably find someone to drop me off at campus and walk the res-“

“I can take her, you’re not driving tonight anyways Chan,” Hyunjin interrupted, a statement that didn’t leave any room for protest. It didn’t, at least, for Chan, who spoke up before you could decline.

“That’s a fantastic idea!” His enthusiasm was almost worrying, as was the speed with which he was throwing his car keys in Hyunjin’s direction, who caught them easily. The grin on Chan’s face was clearly meant to be conspiratory but he was anything but subtle and you were questioning who he was even directing it to, because you were definitely not on board with this plan of his to reconcile the two of you.

You were still scrambling for an excuse they would let slide but Hyunjin was already in front of you with the keys lazily dangling from one finger. It was only then it filtered through that he, too, was completely sober, just as you were.

“Alright. Let’s go home,” you admitted with a defeated sigh, hoping that all the horrible scenarios you were already making up in your head wouldn’t be coming true. Hyunjin did seem civil and calm, if not almost like the Hyunjin you knew, but it wasn’t enough to make you forgive and forget all the instances he had shown a whole different side of him and never apologized for it.

You were almost grateful he didn’t put his hand on the small of your back when he led you through the crowds of dancing and drunk people as he usually would have, because you weren’t sure you could have handled it.

The car ride was by far one of the worst ones you had ever experienced, which said a lot considering you had thought the same thing earlier tonight yet were already proven wrong. Earlier had been awkward and uncomfortable but at least Chaeryoung and Chan had been there. Now it was only Hyunjin with you in the passenger seat next to him, the silence spanning so awkwardly and tensely it felt almost tangible. You couldn’t shake the underlying feeling that, just like you, Hyunjin was itching to say something yet for some reason the words wouldn’t come. While you could usually read him you hadn’t been able to do that in weeks. You couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t talking. He didn’t seem like he wanted another confrontation, but you also knew that kind words or apologies took far more bravery, something you yourself currently couldn’t muster either.

You’d never been so glad to see your dorm building when Hyunjin finally parked the car. You mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ for driving you home before you almost fled from the car, thinking that you had finally evaded that awfully tense mood between the two of you. You were proven wrong when you heard another car door fall shut behind you, Hyunjin’s steps unmistakably hurrying after you. You squeezed your eyes shut shortly, taking a deep breath to brace yourself before you halted and turned around to face him. He looked so devastatingly beautiful with his long hair, smoky eyes and the smooth skin of his stomach visible. It hurt all the more because of the situation you were in and you wanted him to leave, certain that you couldn’t handle this.

“You can’t park here,” you stated dismissively, nodding towards where he’d left Chan’s car.

“I don’t care,” he huffed, but you thought that he couldn’t possibly be worked up from running a few steps after you, so it had to be something else. “If I don’t do this now it might never happen.”

You knew, of course, what he meant with ‘this’. The talk that was long overdue. What you didn’t know was what he was going to say, and if what he would say would make it worse. But you couldn’t just shut him down, not when you still wanted him back in your life. You terribly missed him and even you weren’t self-sabotaging enough to interfere with something that could possibly fix this. You did turn around and start walking again, guessing that if he wanted this talk he’d follow, and if he didn’t… you didn’t want to go there, even just hypothetically.

You could hear his footsteps distinctly behind you although he wasn’t talking until you were already walking up the staircase to your dorm.

“Why aren’t you with Seonghwa?”

You almost stumbled, ready to explode but the rational part of your brain that was thankfully still working told you that unlike the last couple of times, there was no maliciousness in his tone. You tried to calm yourself with a few deep breaths before answering.

“Would you like me to be?” You almost managed not to sound snappy.

“What do you think?” his answer came almost immediately, but you weren’t having it. He wanted to talk, so he would talk.

“No, Hyunjin, that’s not how this goes.”

He fell silent again and this time you weren’t sure if he’d lost his resolve. He still didn’t talk when you’d reached your door and unlocked it, stopping in the doorframe indecisively. Your hopes of finally fixing this were dwindling fast, but you weren’t planning on letting him in if this was all you would get. You should have just left, but one look at his eyes, incredibly sad, were enough for you to find yourself talking instead.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Hwa told me to get my head clear and talk to you truthfully. Which is good advice for the both of us, I think. Except we barely even talk anymore, so why did I think that would work?”

You didn’t really expect an answer, even though you knew you were desperately hoping for one. Neither did you leave, even though Hyunjin wasn’t saying anything and you felt an empty pit in your stomach open up. You didn’t know what else to say, and you wanted to leave him there but doing so hurt you probably as much as him, if not more, so you found yourself rooted to the spot despite better judgement. When you couldn’t take it anymore it was you who spoke again, and you were surprised to hear yourself sob when the words finally tumbled over your lips.

“Hyunjin, what happened to us?”

“I don’t know.” This time the answer came immediately, although meek and silent and barely a mumble, and it made you find your resolve again at last.

“You know damn well. You shouldn’t have fingered me on a park bench because you were horny, called me a box to tick on your bucket list and then pretended it didn’t happen.”

“I’m such an idiot.” He sounded thoroughly regretful, but you weren’t done yet now that you’d started.

“Yes, you are. You ruined our friendship because you tried pretending that mistake we made didn’t happen. I was ready to face that but you made me believe you don’t fucking remember.” Technically he had never told you if he had been lying and did remember after all, but by now you were certain even without that confirmation. Him not denying it was as good as one.

“And instead of owning up to it you turn into someone I barely even recognize, hurting me with petty words whenever you, I don’t even know, get jealous? Instead of just talking to me?!”

You were fuming and hurting and you felt wetness coating your cheeks now. The sight of Hyunjin before you would have broken your heart if he hadn’t already done that. He looked as miserable as you felt, hands clenched by his sides, his eyes portraying the same pain you had gone through for the last weeks.

“I thought I’d ruin our friendship if I told you I liked you.”

“So instead you fingered me to get it out of your system? Is that what that was?”

You had heard his confession loud and clear in the quiet hallways, despite his mumbling, but you couldn’t focus on it right now. Chan had been right, Seonghwa had been right, seemingly everyone but you had seemed to know and been correct in their assumptions. But what good did that do when him liking you meant him hurting you?

“I was scared! It would be awkward for you to have a friend be in love with you. You like guys like Yugyeom, or Jaehyun or Hwa-“ he didn’t quite manage to keep the venom out of his voice at the last one “-not me! I was scared out of my mind you would reject me and I’d lose you. But I was drunk that night, and you kept talking about other guys and I realized that eventually I’d lose you to one of them. I couldn’t bear the thought. I shouldn’t have kissed you, but you kissed me back and I thought if that’s all I can have then I’ll take it.”

Hyunjin was talking almost too fast to follow at this point, but for you every single word still felt like forever. It sounded too familiar, too much of a mirror of your own thoughts and feelings. Both of you thinking rushed, drunken kisses were all you could ever have. Both of you dreading the moment the other would be happy with someone else.

“I immediately regretted it. It’s not what I want from you. No, hold on, of course it’s what I want from you. But not like that. I want to hold you after and tell you that I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. God, you’re always so beautiful. I think… I think in a way losing you now showed me that I couldn’t take it.” He hesitated for a moment, stepping one step closer only to hastily move away again as if he barely could hold himself back. “I’m so sorry. I’m gonna leave. I’m- I’m so sorry I hurt you and said all those things to you. You deserve better than as shit of a friend as I have been.”

You were sobbing uncontrolled now, tears filling your eyes so much it was difficult to keep looking at Hyunjin with how much your vision was swimming. You realized he was misunderstanding your reaction because he was clearly as clueless as you and he didn’t understand that you were melting in every way possible because of his words, so you pulled him in, hands clenched in his shirt, face buried in his chest and thankful he immediately reciprocated the hug without hesitation, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight.

“Hyunjin, I’ve been in love with you for the past three years,” you finally confessed, the words finally breaking free after having been caged in for so long. Your voice was suffocated by his shirt but you were sure he’d heard you just fine because he stiffened, fingers digging into your back.

“Can you say that again?” his voice was shaky and you giggled through your sobs, leaning back a bit with newfound confidence to look at him.

“I’m in love with you,” you’d thought those words so many times, but you never expected to be saying them to Hyunjin, especially not without feeling any fear of rejection.

“I- I think I should come in,” Hyunjin stuttered, disbelief flooding his voice but he was automatically stepping closer again, the softest smile on his face while his thumb gently wiped over your cheek, smudging the tears more than anything. You agreed, stepping back and finally letting him in. You closed the door after him carefully, discreetly wiping at your tears because you suddenly felt a bit embarrassed at how much his words had made you cry. He didn’t settle down anywhere, even though he’d been here a thousand times and usually made himself at home easily, so you rounded him and sat on the couch, hoping he’d follow your lead. You pulled your knees in and although he sat down in a safe distance, no part of him touching you, it was more of a tentative distance like your confessions were too fresh to quite believe them yet.

“Why did you always try and set me up with other girls?” he finally asked, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I never saw you hook-up with anyone and I just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me.”

“Every time you did that I was even more certain you’d never want me,” he spoke with a desperate frustration that would have been funny if you didn’t realize just how much you had been sabotaging yourself over the years. You had had good intentions, but you’d only accidentally been pushing him away. “Didn’t it hurt to see me with Chaeyoung? Because it sure as hell hurt to see you with Seonghwa.”

“Yeah, I almost didn’t notice,” you couldn’t help put supply sarcastically, not angry at him anymore for his stupid jealous behavior.

“Look, I’m so fucking sorry I behaved like an idiot.” You nodded in agreement, although you were smiling at him softly.

“Of course it hurt. But I told myself it’s what would help me get over you.”

“Did it help?”

“Hyunjin, if I knew how to get over you don’t you think I’d done that in the last three years?”

He looked at you for a moment, biting his lip and you could see he was contemplating something. It became clear when his eyes dropped to your lips for just the fraction of a second, but long enough for you to notice.

“Please just kiss me, I know you’re thinking about it.”

His hands were on your cheeks in a heartbeat, lips pressed against yours without hesitation, the distance between you forgotten.

“It’s all I can think about,” his words were mumbled into your kiss and you felt them as much as you heard them. Even though he was kissing you softly there was an urgency to it that resonated in how you were gripping onto his shirt, as if you both had been craving each other so desperately that you were scared of ever letting go again.

Your soft kisses turned hungry the second his teeth grazed your lower lip, your hands clenching and pulling him closer. You were utterly overwhelmed, your head swimming but you never wanted to stop kissing him again. His teeth and tongue were caressing your lips until you were panting softly and he used the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, finally deepening the kiss.

You almost moaned, the kiss so much more intense than it had been the last time because you both knew you had been fantasizing about this for too long. His hands, initially caressing your cheeks, slipped down to your neck and into your hair. The feeling had you shaking with anticipation and you tangled your own fingers through his hair. You pulled a little, just to see the reaction you could elicit, and when he groaned you completely disregarded holding back. The sound was sweet like honey washing down your body and you pulled your leg over his lap. His hands immediately grabbed onto your thighs and you yelped when he lifted you up with him, stumbling a little.

“Bedroom,” he stated, his voice a bit breathless and you could only nod, a husky and surprisingly needy ‘yes’ drowned out when he leant in to peck your lips again. He knew the way to your bedroom by heart, settling down on your bed a bit clumsily while pulling you on his lap again immediately. Wiggling a little to readjust your thighs on either side of his you relished in his reaction, a subtle shiver washing over his body. You moved your hips again, more purposely this time, grinding yourself down on his crotch in a slow rhythm. You could tell he was holding back by the way his knuckles pressed into the bedsheets turned white from clenching so hard. It only urged you on, your hands resting on his shoulders for stability while you pressed your thighs tighter, rolling your hips against him so closely you could feel him twitch inside his pants against your center. For a short moment you contemplated making him come just like that because watching his reactions you were sure you could, but Hyunjin stopped you, his hands settling on your hips when he finally managed to pull his thoughts together.

To your disappointment he readjusted you on his lap, moving you away from the hard bulge in his pants. You were pouting and he must have noticed because he chuckled, biting his plush bottom lip and moving some of the blonde strands already sticking to his forehead off his skin with one hand.

“Bunny, I’ve fantasized about sleeping with you so many times. I can’t come in my pants now.”

His words turned your pout into a giggle immediately, a hand dropping to his crotch and palming his bulge just enough to get a reaction out of him, his head falling back and focus lost again temporarily. His groans were the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard and you pushed him a little further, causing his self-restraint to crumble. Just the way your hands felt on him even through his pants was too much after he had dreamed about feeling you, having you touch him, so many times.

“Fuck. Fuck- you gotta stop, please,” his voice was somewhere between a groan and a whimper and you palmed him once more, not wanting to stop touching him before you gave in and stopping teasing, letting him catch his breath until he was looking at you again.

His eyes were flitting from your face to your body and back, as if he didn’t know which part of you to look at and it sent warm tingles all over your skin. His eyes were holding so much appreciation and warmth despite the fact that he was painfully hard, and you could tell he wanted to draw this out and savor every second he could finally have you on his lap and needy for him.

Even though you stopped touching him you couldn’t entirely stop teasing him. Grabbing onto the hem of your shirt you swiftly pulled it off, his gaze going to your chest immediately, still covered in a black bra.

His lip was pulled between his teeth again and you decided to push a step further, unclasping the bra and letting it slip off your arms and land on the floor.

The whimper falling over Hyunjin’s lips was divine. The hand still on your thighs was clenching, digging his fingers into your skin hard to resist the urge of ravishing you without holding back. You were driving him crazy with everything you did. The way you knew exactly how much you were testing his self-restraint, undressing on his lap, topless and nipples hard.

And as much as you loved his reactions, seeing how much you were affecting him even though you were barely doing anything, you could feel how wet you were and you were dying to have him touch you and fuck you into the mattress until your throat was raw from screaming his name.

You leant in, lips ghosting over his neck, hoping that your words would finally push him over the edge and kill his self-control.

“You can touch me, Hyunjin.” His name was a raspy breath on your lips, washing over his skin and his fingers clenched once more on your thigh before he was palming your tits. You bit down on his neck, his fingers pinching your nipple and eliciting a deliciously painful sensation. He clearly noticed, repeating the motion, teasing your hard nipples and caressing you until you were holding onto his shoulders again, arching into his hands, the kisses on his neck faltering.

“Hyunjin, you don’t need to hold back for my sake,” you whined, pushing him further, your voice not much above a whisper because you were so desperate to feel him. “You can do whatever you want to me. I trust you.”

The moment you said the words you realized it was true. You trusted him more than you had realized despite everything that had happened between you the last weeks. It was worth finally knowing that he ached as much for you as you had for him.

His reaction to your words wasn’t immediate. Instead he stilled for a second and or the shortest moment you were worried you might have done something wrong or overstepped some unknown line, but then his hand wrapped into the strands of your hair falling over your neck and Hyunjin pulled hard.

You gasped in surprise, the sting running straight to your center and causing your hips to buck, your neck bared to Hyunjin. But he completely ignored it, instead going straight to biting down your chest and finally sucking on your nipple. At the feeling of his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, tongue flicking over it, your brain shut down. A loud, raspy curse fell over your lips and it was the reaction that finally broke Hyunjin and made him throw all restraint away. The need to have you moan his name with his dick inside you was too overwhelming to draw this out, even if he planned to savor every moment as much as possible.

His hand ran up your thigh, diving under your skirt without hesitation and dropping to your wet panties, moving them aside easily. You didn’t have time to process what was going on before he had his fingers running up your slit and between your folds, coating them in your wetness enough so he wouldn’t hurt you, before he slipped both fingers into you.

It didn’t compare to last time, not by far. Either times you could feel he wanted you, but this time he was finger fucking you with the knowledge that you want him, you were wet for him and only for him and you trusted him. It made the curl of his fingers against your walls all the more delicious, wrecking your throat with moans.

“Open my pants,” he was barely forming a full sentence, focused on the way he was shoving his fingers deep inside you to feel you clench around him. “Need to be inside you.”

The words ran straight down between your legs and to his fingers pressing into you.

“Fuck, okay.” You weren’t sure if you were actually nodding or not, your fingers shaking when they settled on his belt, but you couldn’t manage much beyond fumbling with the buckle, fingers too weak and shaking too much to open it. You couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way he was fucking you open with his fingers, giving up after another clumsy attempt and slumping against Hyunjin instead. Your face was buried in his neck and when he pushed into you and spread his fingers you all but forgot anything but fucking yourself deeper onto his fingers. He met the movement of your hips, allowing you to pick the pace until you were a mess, his name etched into his skin with your voice repeatedly moaning it.

“Bunny, can you ride me, or do you want me on top?”

“Top,” you gasped out, clambering off of Hyunjin’s lap while he was slipping his fingers out of you. “Want you to fuck me.”

“God, you’re killing me,” Hyunjin cursed while fumbling a little himself to pull off his pants and underwear. You would have been glad about the payback of him struggling to get out of those tight pants after he’d tortured you with his looks all night, but right now you desperately wanted him, too much to care about any petty feelings.

He was already gripping the hem of that cursed top, eyes fully focused on you kneeling on your bed, and when he stilled you knew he caught on to how you were biting your lip to hold yourself back from saying something.

“Want me to keep this on?” His tone was way too cocky for how hard his dick was and how rattled he already looked, but somehow he still managed. You were still biting down on your lip, unwilling to admit just how much you liked that shirt on him but it wasn’t necessary. “Yeah, you do,” Hyunjin supplied instead with an impossibly cocky smirk, crawling up to you on your bed, surprising you when he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, a stark contrast to how confidently he had been teasing you just a moment ago.

“Knew I could drive you crazy showing up in this shirt.”

And it was true, but it wasn’t even half the truth.

“Hyunjin, you always drive me crazy.” It wasn’t the words you had expected to come out of your mouth but it was true and you realized you liked telling him those things. Now that there was nothing to be scared of you wanted him to know just how much you liked him, just how much he was on your mind.

He didn’t respond, instead pushing you back onto the mattress and kissing you so deeply it left no doubt he felt just the same way.

The kiss was a tangle of tongue and teeth, biting on your lips and your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. Hyunjin’s own hand was on your waist to support you, and you could feel his length against your center. He was so incredibly close to slipping inside you, anticipation building in your stomach like liquid fire. You bucked your hips impatiently, causing him to moan into the kiss.

“Shit I don’t have a condom?” Hyunjin breathed, the words barely strung together, lips not separating from yours by more than a breath. “You okay with-“

“God, yes please.”

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this even though you were on birth control, but you wanted Hyunjin so much all your rational thoughts seemed to shut down around him.

It didn’t seem to be going much better for him either, because you had barely said the words when he finally pushed inside you. You were so wet it didn’t hurt at all, and he was stretching you just the right way, not quite painful but filling you up perfectly. Your hand was tangled in his hair, nails digging into his scalp slightly when he was fully settled inside you. He wasn’t moving, and through the haze in your mind you thought he was waiting for your okay until you looked at him and realized he wasn’t even focused on you, his eyes closed and shorter strands of hair falling in front of his face.

“Hyunjin,” you breathed, rolling your hips in emphasis because you desperately wanted him to move. He inhaled sharply, fingers on your hips digging into your skin.

“Hold on – wait. You feel so fucking good. I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle from slipping over your lips at the confession. Even with his dick inside you he managed to made your stomach flutter.

You gently slipped your hand from his hair, caressing his cheek and tucking the loose, sweaty strands of hair behind his ear.

“Take your time baby,” you softly spoke, the pet name flowing naturally, and you felt him shiver softly under your hands in response. “You already make me feel good like this.”

And you meant that, but the reassurance seemed to be enough because the next thing you knew was your nails digging into his shoulder blades when he almost bottomed out only to push back deep inside you. The gentleness from a second ago all but dissipated and when you’d told him you already felt good you hadn’t been prepared for just how good he could make you feel.

Hyunjin was leaning on his arms next to your head, lips ghosting down your neck, pushing into you at a relentless rhythm. You were trying to match his thrusts but he was fucking into you so good, hitting a spot that made the muscles in your legs contract.

You gave up after a couple more thrust, melting into the mattress instead, clutching onto Hyunjin with weak arms while he kept hitting that sweet spot perfectly with every push into you.

Hyunjin, ever the vocal person, kept gasping your name, slipping in praises matched with his thrusts and you couldn’t do much beyond reveling in the feeling of him fucking you into the mattress so well your whole body felt like it was on fire. Warmth was tingling all over your skin and you couldn’t even gather the words to tell him how well he was fucking you, how close you were.

But he could tell by the way you were gasping, moans swallowed by how breathless you were, clenching around his dick every time he rutted into you until he was struggling to hold back his own orgasm. His hand slipped between you, finger drawing soft circles on your clit and it was enough to finally topple you over the edge and have you see stars.

“Baby I’m gonna- fuck-“ your words turned into whimpers when your orgasm washed over you, skin tingling all over and blood rushing in your ears.

“’M gonna pull out-“ Hyunjin started and you were sure your nails were leaving marks by how hard you held him back in response, keeping his body pressed up against yours, nipples rubbing against his shirt with delicious friction.

“No, please come inside, wanna feel you come inside me,” you were whining, the sound foreign to your own ears but it was enough to convince Hyunjin, whose groan next to your ear was enough to send another wave of shivers racking down your body. You could barely register the unsteady rhythm he picked up again, dick twitching inside you when you felt yourself clench around him again, waves of your orgasm running through your body and finally pulling him over with you. You felt his warm cum spill inside you, his face pressing into your skin, a loud moan etched into your skin, followed by a string of praise. Hyunjin was telling you how good you felt, how much he loved fucking you, punctuated by uneven thrusts carrying him through his orgasm.

You didn’t know how long it took until you could gather any coherent thought again. Your skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, Hyunjin slumped on top of you with his face still buried in your neck and breathing hard. He was still inside you, his length gone soft and you knew if he pulled out you’d be making a mess of your bedsheets but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret having him come inside you, not when you had never felt more satisfied and thoroughly fucked out.

“Promise you’ll ride me next time, bunny?” Hyunjin almost purred against your skin, still out of breath but his hands were already drawing soft patterns on your chest, small kisses pressed against your neck.

“You’ve been thinking about that a lot, haven’t you?” you giggled, trying to suppress a shiver when his thumb brushed your nipple. “I can’t make promises if you make me this weak every time, Hyunjin. I feel like my legs are jelly.”

“Mh, did I fuck you that well?” Despite his crude words his tone was soft and teasing and you could tell by his tone that he was smiling. It made the butterflies in your stomach flutter yet again, and it seemed like they hadn’t calmed down ever since Hyunjin had confessed his feelings earlier. “I didn’t even try, I wonder what would happen if I did?”

When he pulled out of you you were almost embarrassed by the whimper escaping your mouth. You were still way too sensitive, and the feeling of his soft dick slipping out of you, followed by his cum was almost too much to take.

Your hands slipped off his back when he moved up to his knees, readjusting his position so he could run his lips down your collarbones and chest. Realizing where this was going when his hair was tickling your stomach and his hand trailed down to the inside of your thigh, that point already so sensitive you felt an involuntary shiver run through you, you quickly carded your hand through his hair to stop him.

“Hyunjin I don’t think I can-“ He stopped you with a wolfish grin, his fingers wandering from your thigh to your center, ghosting over it so softly he was barely touching you, but even that was already too much. “Fuck, Hyunjin, I’m so sensitive.”

“Want me to stop?” Despite his intentions concern laced through his voice and you knew he would stop if you said so right now. You didn’t say anything, just weakly shook your head while you felt his grin ghost over your skin, down your stomach until his teeth grazed your inner thighs, a hard shudder raking over your body. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take much but you wanted this so bad, didn’t want to let go of Hyunjin, for him to stop treating you as if you were the most precious thing on earth to him.

When he finally licked a soft stripe along your center, tasting himself and you mixed from your orgasms you almost thought you would black out. You were dizzy from your first orgasm, breath already raspy and Hyunjin’s lips and tongue were almost too much. He made sure not to run his tongue over your clit, careful not to send you in overdrive already. Instead, he resorted to soft kitten licks that only mixed his saliva with the mess he had already left between your legs and made you clench around nothing. His fingers were caressing your thighs, holding you in place just enough so you couldn’t clamp your legs shut.

You were gasping, struggling to keep up because all you could feel was the tingling sensations Hyunjin was sending all over your body with his tongue. You vaguely registered that you were whimpering, small little sounds that mixed with his name and your nails were digging into the bedsheets.

You weren’t even sure you could come again already, not when you felt too sensitive to handle Hyunjin’s tongue between your legs, but you were proven wrong when he finally let his mouth run up to your clit.

“Ohmygod I-“ you couldn’t finish the sentence properly, not sure where you would have gone with it either way, because Hyunjin’s lips were wrapped around your clit and he was sucking and you were seeing stars and you couldn’t hear how he was praising you over your desperate gasps.

It took a while before you realized Hyunjin was splattering your neck and chest with soft kisses, meant to caress and help you calm down until you weren’t shaking anymore, his hands lazily wrapped around your waist.

“You good?” he finally asked with a sweet smile when your gaze was finally focused on him, but you could tell by the glint in his eyes that he knew just fine that you were more than good thanks to him.

You took a moment to let your eyes run over him and take in every detail, the loose strands of black hair fluttering into his face and sticking to his forehead. His eyes, sparkling with admiration that made your heart melt. The beauty mark under his eye, his softly sloped nose. His lips, swollen and glistening wetly, pulled into a smile that was so much Hyunjin that you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and pressing a light kiss to his mouth.

“What do you think?” you mused in response finally, pressing another quick peck to his lips, a smile gracing yours when he whined when you pulled away.

You thought that you could stay like this with him forever, just Hyunjin and you together, so clearly head over heels for each other that you didn’t understand how both of you hadn’t seen it sooner. But the moment was broken up when the front door banged open so unceremoniously you could almost feel the dent in the wall, and your name was shouted through the dorm room way louder than it should be in the middle of the night.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, scrambling out from under Hyunjin, grasping for something to pull on and settling on his shirt because it was the first thing you could grab that would cover not just your chest but the entirety of the sticky mess he had left between your legs. Not that covering it up would discard any doubt of what you had just done. It was still highly uncomfortable and you were pulling down the shirt over your legs as far as it would go from where you were sitting, while Hyunjin was desperately trying to put on his underwear without falling and breaking his neck. He looked even worse than you probably, everything from his hair to his lips giving away that he’d just had sex, if him only being in his underwear wouldn’t have already done so. But there was no time to fix anything else before Chaeryoung, followed by Felix, Seungmin and Chan burst into your room, all of them cramming in together. Both Chaeryoung and Chan were very clearly coming straight from the party, one drunk and the other still very stoned, but Felix and Seungmin had clearly come to pick them up. They were completely sober and thus assessed the situation in front of them way faster than the other two.

Felix had the decency to at least blush, although he still didn’t hold back the grin sneaking on his face. Seungmin, much worse, fished money out of his pocket and casually handed it to Chan.

“Bro, I told you I’m not betting on this!” the other replied, his whole reaction lacking gravity because he was just ridiculously calm even though his words sounded like he would have protested stronger under different circumstances.

Seungmin just shrugged and pocketed his money again, but you didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he had clearly wanted to bet on whether you were sleeping with Hyunjin or not, because Chaeryoung finally showed her very belated reaction by simply screeching at a volume that was nothing but irritating and could be interpreted in many ways. It almost drowned out the beeping of Seungmin’s phone, who nonchalantly turned the screen towards you and Hyunjin so you could see the messages in the group chat.

“Can’t believe you two were even worse than Jisung and Karaoke Girl. Jeongin says ‘fucking finally’ by the way.”

You didn’t need to read the messages to know that everyone in your group knew about you and Hyunjin before you yourself had even properly processed the entire night, but it was just as well. You had already been annoyingly touchy before, and this way at least they had time to prepare for the fact that there was no way you would keep your hands off each other ever again now.

#hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin #guys im SO sorry i initially forgot about the taglist #i was posting this at work when my boss wasn't in the room lmao i was STRESSED #i hope i didnt forget anyone!!

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be-my-ally · 1 year

Text

The Return Flight

Big Bunny #2

As always it's super late here, I will re-edit grammar etc tomorrow! enjoy!

Summary: It’s the next day and they’re off on their return flight. Elvis and Bunny get up to panicking and meditating, and then a couple hours of later one of the other bunnies joins them. Idk I just really can’t see elvis missing out on such a prime chance for a teeny lil bit of voyeuristic action.

I truly tried to wiggle the wrist weights in but alas, not to be today - next time though, next time.

Warnings: 18+, p in v penetrative sex, handjobs (v), oral (p and v), mentions of drug use, graphic description of a panic attack, f/f touching, elvis is kinda sweet in this one - except for the voyeurism + girl on girl action; TO CLARIFY - this is asked for by elvis + both parties consensually agree however, I am warning about very teeny tiny elements of internalised homophobia + the fact that reader implies she only does so (at least at first) to please elvis - she is not, however, reluctant nor unwilling.

wc: 11.4k

FYI: I’ve updated my bio to say I’m pausing requests - just until I get my inbox cleared down + posted! xx Also!!! I’ve had a couple of requests for a taglist - so this is my official mention of that; lmk if you want me to tag you in future posts! FINALLY found images of Elvis AND big bunny! pictured on the left and top right below!

Your brief encounter with Elvis had been your first experience of anything casual, or meaningless, and you’ve never had to navigate the emotions or situations before. It makes you antsy that you don’t know the correct procedure even before you’d left the plane; what do you even say to him? ‘Thanks for the sex, see you on the flight tonight?’ You’re not proud of it, but you ultimately panic to such an extent that you hide in the powder room until they’ve all disembarked. You’d not realised you’d have to hide from the other bunnies too though; they’d all converged on you as soon as you’d left - desperate for any morsel of information you would give. You’d somehow, thankfully for your dignity and the taxi driver’s ears, managed to prevent them from asking too many questions until you’d all arrived at the hotel where you would be staying.

You were looking forward to ensconcing yourself in the hotel room, a proper shower and time to relax for the night and day or so before the return flight. That was, however, not to be, and you were thankful that you’d had the chance to at least wipe yourself down before getting redressed on the plane; your sudden lack of tights had forced you back into your dress - unwilling to be so exposed in your bunny corset. Instead of the peaceful night you had planned Daisy and Maggie were forcing their way into the room (of course, they’d have been sharing with you anyway but you can’t say that you didn’t try to run in and close the door on them) with Darla and Michelle close behind; you forget sometimes that even though they may be more ‘senior’ bunnies, they were still only two years older than you. They sit down around you, demanding you tell them everything, wanting you to fill in the gaps between the assumptions they could make from what they’d heard and when things had gone silent.

“Oh lord, I just don’t know what to do -” You'd said after you’d recounted, blushing, the majority of the details; you’d left out him licking you, or that you think that might have been the first true orgasm of your life. You leave out that you think the hour you spent with him might have made you fall in love, and other ridiculous notions. And, for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a detailed description of him, trying to simultaneously protect him and to keep something just for you; you wouldn’t let them speculate on his size, or his stamina. But you had mentioned that he had a thing for feet, something that had been met with raucous laughter and clapping from the girls when you’d prefaced that with the story of your pantyhose being torn. You were, despite your embarrassment, glad to have these girls around you - you’d grown up in a fairly conservative part of town, and you know any of your close childhood or home friends would have been disgusted with you. They might have let it go - since it was Elvis, or have loudly judged you while silently expressing a level of jealousy but under no circumstances would they have encouraged the behaviour, or been so happy for you. Nor would they have interjected your story with their own, somewhat similar, although far less famous, tales. By the time the conversation had gotten back around to your dilemma with how to deal with Elvis again you were all relaxing on the two beds, piled up and crossed legged like a slumber party. “So really - what should I do?”

“Just don’t change a thing,” Daisy recommends, “If he wants to make something of it let him, but you have to rise above it all. Seem like you don’t care. “ Maggie offers you differing advice;

“If you want it to happen again, just be all over him, it’s not like you have to worry that he doesn’t like you.” You consider these opposing suggestions, silent, sipping the terrible hotel coffee. Michelle speaks up, Darla nodding in agreement;

“In my experience… you’ve got to subtly let him know you’re there and available, but don’t fawn over him, just … just say hello in a friendly way and it’s all in his hands then. Remember, be casual about it.” You consider this for a moment before agreeing. It does seem to be the way of the least mortification. You try to put it out of your mind for the remainder of the break, taking the time to try and focus on resting and relaxing before you had to be back in the air.

This time, there’s far less pomp and circumstance around his arrival; and you’re not surprised to see that it’s solely the same group again. Only Darla greets them on the tarmac - the rest of you already onboard and preparing for a quicker departure than last time. This time, you’re all in your little bunny suits, collars and cuffs, cottontails perfectly fluffed - since he’d requested it you all assumed it would save being made to change. This airport was, despite being private, closer in airspace to the larger international airport and your takeoff time was therefore far stricter than any of you would have liked. All knowing that sometimes these celebrities were as difficult to wrangle as herding a particularly difficult group of cats.

So you don’t have a chance to really look at him, take him in, until he’s brushing past you, his thick hands on your hips and waist moving you from where you’re blocking a narrower part of hallway with your body. He doesn’t say excuse me, or ask you to move, just manhandles you across him. You feel then, before you see, the soft plush fabric of his outfit, and when you glance over your shoulder at him you’re a little surprised that rather than the expensive, perfectly fitted, suit he was wearing last time, this time he was wearing a, clearly expensive but nonetheless fairly ordinary, tracksuit - navy blue, low zipper exposing the wide collared shirt underneath - his chest hair peeking out. Your tummy flips seeing him, and you stay very still where he’s put you, struggling to remember what your plan had been. He pats your ass, casually, in the blatantly chauvinistic way that should make you squirm, that implies he could and would do it to any girl at any time - although you hadn’t actually witnessed that yourself, and you’re mortified that at even that brief touch, without any words exchanged your breath hitches and your mind goes slightly blank. He’s gone by the time you try to open your mouth to say something and you try to clear your head by distracting yourself with the take-off preparations.

Michelle is eyeing you up when you’re finishing checking the door, and she opens her mouth but you’re frantically shaking your head before she can say anything, gesturing to not say a word. She frowns, but complies - a moment later only asking you to help her sort the food out. You do so, happy to disappear for a little while and let the others deal with them for a bit. It’s not long after that the pilots signal for take-off and you sit down briefly as the plane taxies down the runway. You’re distracted enough by the situation you find yourself in; are you making it more awkward not talking to him? That for once the take-off doesn’t bother you at all and soon the plane is balanced in the air, allowing you and Michelle to finish your preparations. Daisy pops her head around the corner a few minutes later saying you’d been requested.

You breathe in, deeply, as much as you can as a little bunny, plastering a smile on your face and you head out to the forward compartment where the group is sat. You expect to walk straight over to Elvis, but you’re stopped by someone else whose name escaped you - barely greeting you;

“Look babydoll, last night, you made me the best Mai Tai of my life, and I’m sure you’re all…” he looks sideways, “as well trained as each other, but honey, I’d really like it if you could do me another one?” You somehow manage to keep your face in check even though you want to scream at his barely concealed innuendo. Instead, you agree, customer service smile on your face, and turn to the rest of the compartment asking if they were all ready for drinks. There’s a resulting chorus of orders and so you head over to the bar to get started. Elvis hadn’t responded, walking out when you’d walked in - he’d gone right into the conference space and one of the boys had mimed a phone to his ear at another's questioning face. You were a little hurt to not be acknowledged but also, truthfully, a little relieved to not have to deal with him for the second. But it wasn’t to last long, upon delivering the other drinks with the other girls to many a relieved sigh, a different man had pointed through to the conference area, gesturing to the bar,

“Think you should take the boss a little pick me up too.” You nod in agreement but he hadn’t drank last time and you have no idea what that would mean making so instead you pour a short glass of cola, hoping that’ll do at least, and balancing the glass on the tray, head through the little curtained archway. You try not to show any emotion when you walk through, keeping your face neutral and concentrating on holding the drinks tray, the slight tip of the plane was liable to send a single glass sliding if you didn’t balance it perfectly. You hear him before you see him, curled against the wall with the phone pressed to his ear. His fingers twirling the cord as he looked out of the window, but with how dark it was outside he could only be looking at his reflection. You’d intended your poker face to display that you weren’t going to be the first to crack, to acknowledge anything but now you’re having to maintain it to retain dignity once you hear what he’s saying. He’s sweet-talking a girl, uttering promises and reassurances;

“No, honey, darling, no - would I be ringing you now? You don’t need to nag me baby, that’s right you’re my baby aren’t ya, ye-ah, put it on your card honey, on my card, yeah that’s no problem… you know I like you in blue…”

You know you have no claim on him; despite your activities together you’ve barely spoken to him, and you’ve only known the man 24 hours and yet a weird surge of possessiveness fills you. Or is it even possessiveness? Or just plain jealousy? Half the trouble was that you’ve never wanted someone like this — you’d never understood why the girls at school would fawn over a specific boy, it had never interested you. You’d never lain awake wondering what you should wear or how you should style your hair to best catch their attention. But today, just this morning, you’d nipped out to the nearest drugstore to the hotel and frivolously bought a new lipstick; you had no need for a new one, and certainly not in the colour you’d chosen - far flashier than you would usually wear, for some reason certain it would catch his eye, but you’d been unable to resist the temptation of putting on a bit of a show for him. To have that gone to waste, for him to ignore you, preoccupied with worrying about appeasing some other girl? Who wasn’t even there? You were annoyed at yourself, for being hurt by his actions and for doing it in the first place.

He finally spots you in the window and he turns, waving you over, reaching out a hand for his drink off of your tray. He doesn’t verbally acknowledge you, or pause in his conversation, simply demanding you come closer with an impatient hand raised. You come towards him, dipping to allow him to easily take the glass, and you watch as he immediately tips it back for a gulp and places the half-full glass back onto the tray. He makes a little mmhmm noise down the phone as he turns his attention back to the call, and the girl on the other end. You turn to leave, not willing to simply stand there and wait for him to want the glass again, jumping when you feel him swat at your exposed thigh. You whirl back around, ready to either playfully (or truthfully, actually) confront him - once was fine but twice? But, before you can he’s back giving his attention to the phone again, looking out of the window. You take it as the dismissal he meant it, and you hate that as you walk away you add an extra sway to your walk - bunny tail bobbing with the motion - just in case he’s looking, and that you can feel your slightly smug smile from even that touch.

It feels like hours, but it was probably only twenty or so minutes later when he returns to the forward compartment, settling down into the large sofa-seat in the middle of the cabin. You’re forced to walk past a moment later and he grabs your arm on the way;

“You look real good today Bunny - very cute.” You wiggle your tail at him and he chuckles; that deep laugh that starts in his chest but ends in his belly. His head rocks and it causes his loose hair to flop about, so different from it’s stiff look from the years prior. You beam at him, pleased to have been so entertaining. He looks you up and down again, still holding onto you,

“Like the lips darlin’. You wear that just for me?” You shake your head no, but he just laughs at you, “Ohhhh, you did it for ol’ Joe over there then did ya?” Feeling the catch-22 you’ve put yourself into you frown, you don’t want to admit that you did do it for him, but god do you not want him to even jokingly suggest you were trying to attract one of the other guys. So you do the next best thing, shaking your head and teasing him back.

“Nu-uh it was for me.” He laughs back at you, his eyes crinkling. When he calms back down he shakes his head in disbelief.

“ O’course it was honey,” You protest his condescending tone,

“It was!” You gesture down at yourself, “I don’t put all this on just for you,” He laughs again, eyes crinkling as he crows at you; shouting to the rest of the boys.

“Ooh-hoo we got ourselves a real-life feminist bunny over here!” He says it mockingly, adding a sneer; “Watch out Ms. Steinem!” He scoffs, “Now hon-ney, we both know it ain’t true… so why don’t you stop playing hard to get, admit you made yourself all pretty for me and come and sit over here. Right on daddy’s knee.” He pats his lap. You frown, you were a feminist, but his lap did look pretty inviting, and your heels were already hurting and you had wanted his attention. So, you do.

“I’m only doing this because you’re paying me.” He chuckles again, one hand coming around you to hold your waist, the other coming to hike your legs further up and across him, his broad hand rubbing your thigh as he does so;

“Sure thing honey - you want me to tip you a little extra for whatever we’re about to do in there?” He nods his head towards the back of the plane. You frown a little, you know he’s joking but you’re suddenly a little worried he does think you’re paid to provide him with extra services. ‘We naturally do not tolerate any merchandising of the bunnies.’ That’s what the bunny bible says. Its word is law, so it’s not true that any extra services are expected. But then, when you think about it, you were told to be…nice to him. The annoying thought then registers, less concern about whether what you’re doing is against the rules, that you hope he realises that you’re doing this because you want to and not just because you’ve been told to. You try to shake this thought off, be casual - c’mon be casual, the mantra running through your head as you attempt to push all other thoughts and feelings out. After all, you don’t want him to think you’re not fun, or reading too much in to anything.

“No-o, that’s, that’s, that’s just an added bonus.” You stroke down the zipper of his jacket, and he laughs again, grabbing your hand and kissing the knuckles. He spreads your hands in his, assessing them.

“God, you got such pretty little fingers baby, look at them lil’ nails - what’s that colour called? Call-Girl Red? Scarlet Tart?” You blush, but you’re able to laugh, recognising that he would only continue to suggest increasingly ridiculous names until you did. He holds you there while he finishes his conversation with the boys, fingers brushing over your skin, until finally, he pats your thigh phrasing an order as a question - “Come through to the bedroom, doll?” You stand up, waiting for him to lead the way to the bedroom at the back of the plane; instead he stands and gestures ahead of him.

“C’mon bunny, hop to it,” He pauses, grinning after his borderline tragic bunny pun as if waiting for a laugh; you comply with a polite giggle even though it’s really not that funny, and take his hand when he holds it out, “let’s go.” When you cross into the bedroom he lets go, leaving you to sit down on the huge elliptical bed while he disappears into the bathroom for a moment. You try to breathe, wondering what he has planned when he returns.

You have no idea why you’re suddenly so nervous. There’s a rising sensation of breathlessness travelling up your chest, your stomach churning a little. You feel inexplicably sick, and for a moment you worry, as the plane bobs the tiniest bit - the motion normally soothing, that you might actually puke. He’s still in the bathroom, and you’re trying to calm yourself down - what will you say to him when he comes out? He’s expecting something now. You don’t want to miss out on anything, it had been so good last time; you didn’t want this to be the new lasting memory of your, however brief, time together. You try to tell yourself you’re being ridiculous - c’mon now, calm down, you’re fine - it’s not like he hasn’t seen you before - not like you haven’t done this before, why are you doing this - don’t ruin it for yourself - oh my god why are you such a little baby get a grip. But that clawing feeling is climbing your chest and you’re struggling to swallow - to breathe. You’re ripping off your little bow and collar as hurriedly as you can but it doesn’t make a difference. You sink down lower, practically lying down now, attempting to practice deep breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. It’s in that moment he comes bounding out of the bathroom - looking you over, as if he’d expected to be ready to pounce; not deal with you still fully dressed (as much as you could be in the bunny corset) and close to tears.

“Hey - hey honey what’s this?” He sounds panicked, and his pitch only increases at the tear falling down your cheek. You try to speak but can’t; “Just - Just talk to me bunny, what, what’s wrong?” You whine at him, trying to sit up and look at him rather than peep from your horizontal angle. He makes it easier by sitting by you on the bed and peering down at your face.

“Nuh-uh-thing,” You finally gasp out, “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just - just got myself all twisted.” A tear slips out, and you angrily brush it away trying to stem the flow. He looks concerned for a second, patting your arm.

“I won’t - we haven’t - we don’t gotta do anything baby, you know that? Not gotta do a thing you don’t wanna do.” He sounds unsure, like he’s not had to deal with this before, or like he’s nervous he’s upset you. It only makes the tears fall a little faster - at how nice he’s being to you when you don’t feel as though you deserve it.

“No-o no I know, I want to, I just can’t seem to stop,” You talk through your hitched breaths, trying to explain. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t breathe.” He hums, looking over at the little table that ran the length of the wall, at the little black bag settled there before patting his thighs and sighing.

“Right. ‘nough messing about - lemme just get one of the boys to call Dr. -”

“No! No! No - I want you! I wanna do this!” You roll onto your side, scrambling upright and turning to grip his jacket, twisting it in your fist. “I wanna - Elvis I promise I’ll be fine in a second just need to calm down. Catch my breath.”

“Well, if its just you’re breathing all funny let me just give you a puff of an inhaler; they’ve barely got anything in them, just wet your throat really but- but they do help,” You shake your head and he sighs again, as if unhappy you’d refuse the offer. But then he nods, almost to himself, and taking matters into his own hands - hauls you up to be leaning against this thick, sturdy, chest. The zipper was a little lower than before and another button of his shirt has popped open allowing you to pillow your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you feel yourself come down. Shame creeping up as you become fully lucid at how irrational you’d behaved. You sit there for a little while - maybe as long as twenty minutes, but could be as short as ten. Elvis hums song after song at you, occasionally breaking into a little quiet verse, chest hairs tickling you as he moved. Finally you feel sane enough to push up a little, pulling away.

“Sorry - Sorry don’t know what came over me.” You stare at his chest, avoiding making eye contact. He brushes his hand over your chin, pulling it up to force you to look at him. He’s looking at you with an expression of tenderness that’s almost too much to bear.

“S’all right doll, told you - it’s all fine.” You give him a tentative smile.

“I’m sure that wasn’t very …sexy of me, but I do wanna give it another go, please Elvis?” He looks at you hard for a moment, directly in your eyes, as if attempting to judge you were being serious. He clearly decides you were because a moment later he’s leaning over you and moving his hand up your leg.

But when his hand grazes your upper thigh, travelling upwards you feel yourself tense, suddenly stiff as a board. He kisses your neck, and his hand retreats. He spends a long couple of minutes stroking your arm, kissing your neck - your ears. Before attempting it for a second time. Again he gets most of the way there before you go stiff and tense. He moves his hand back to your arm, talking lowly and slowly, practically whispering.

“Now, darlin’ s’ok - we’ve done it before baby.” He’s soothing you like you’re a skittish horse, crooning into your ear, “If you wanna do this I need you to relax for me darling. Can’t do anything otherwise.” You nod, agitated at the accusation that you’re not already attempting to relax.

“I’m trying Elvis - I want to too! I just, it’s involuntary!” He hums - looking over at the bag again -

“Look, honey, I’ve got some, some ‘ludes you can take,” You frown, you didn’t think Elvis was known for doing disco drugs. “I take ‘em to uh help me settle down baby.” You start to speak, perhaps to question the veracity of this claim or where he gets these from - considering his position on recreational drugs. But before you can he’s talking again; “Don’t get me wrong doll, I’m not - don’t get it twisted - they’re prescribed.” He pauses again - “But they’ll sort you right out, real leg spreaders. Won’t change your mind, if you say you want it you still will but, trust me, they’ll relax your body enough.” You shake your head at him, not admitting that while you would love to breathe the concept of not being in complete control of your body was terrifying, instead taking deep breaths to try and force yourself to relax a little more.

“No-no, no need for that, ‘m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me - I’m so nervous today - I just, sorry - just need another minute.” He sighs again, and although the irrational part of your brain worries it’s in annoyance you can tell he’s more annoyed about you consistently declining his offers of help. He’s still doing his best to soothe you, delicate fingers firmly rubbing your arms and sides, a constant motion. “I just - I know it’s ridiculous, but I still feel like I can’t breathe properly.” His fingers stop on the boning of the corset, and he taps it - as if he’s discovered an answer.

“Awh no this is silly now doll, who could all squished in there like that.” He gestures down to where your chest is threatening to spill out of the tightly laced and zipped bodice. You frown, you’re pretty sure it’s mental and not physical but now he’s drawn attention to it you feel like it’s tightening around your middle. You twist to attempt to unhook it yourself - moving forward to bend out of his lap; “No, no darling, let me - I’ll get this thing offa you.” He pushes you further forward a little way, and then with surprising skill deftly undoes the bunny corset. You don’t want to admit it but the moment the hooks fall away you do feel as if some of the air has returned to your lungs. He’s gently and firmly peeling it away from your body, pulling it down and off of your legs - tutting and stroking the little red marks where the seams and boning have dug into you a little - whether because it was just generally too tight or because you’d been contorted into a slightly awkward position.

“Lord almighty - they doin’ that to you every day?” You shrug, about to say that it wasn’t that much worse than some of your tighter dresses or your panty girdle. He holds it up though, looking at it with distaste, rather than the humour he had the first time he’d seen it off of you - as if seeing it for the first time. “They should make ‘em stretchier! Or - or - a better lining!” He frowns again, “I’m gonna ring Hef and tell him - it’s not right!” You shake your head, the conversation at least distracting you from your lungs.

“Elvis - it’s not like I’m meant to be naked right now. How would you supposedly know.” You gesture down at yourself, a little flushed at the realisation that you were, in fact topless and therefore nude from the waist up. He laughs at you, a little condescendingly.

“You ‘spect me to believe he doesn’t know what you’re up to?” He pauses, “Or that…, bunny, you know, I was, uh, warned that you girls would be… available.” You grimace, it makes you feel like a whore when it’s put like that and you try to return you mind to the point you were trying to make.

“Well, still, if it’s because of me that the boat gets rocked - I like my job, and it was at your request we’re proper bunnies today and not in our flight uniforms!” He rolls his eyes at you, huffing at the accusation.

“Ok, ok. Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” You laugh a little, and you notice your chest bobbing with the motion - it makes you suddenly very aware of your nudity, probably a sign that you’re starting to return to normal, and you wrap an arm around your middle while scrambling to sit properly upright instead of in a semi recline. He looks at you sideways, starting to lean down,

“Well - now we got that sorted - “ You cut him off,

“It wasn’t about that - it was just, I just got all caught in my head, I think I’m a little messed up; it happens every now and again. It just - anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Could you, sorry, would you pass me my bag from over there?” You nod towards the bag just inside the door, it had been a little presumptuous perhaps but you’d left it close enough that if you had missed the mark it wouldn’t have been tricky to move or hide it. “I’ll get changed now.” He frowns, he’s sat upright again himself, but doesn’t move for the bag, instead pulling your arm around and dragging you to sit over his legs again - he leans back, pulling your head to lie on his chest.

“Babe - there’s nothing wrong with you… you just gotta, gotta put a little of it into the air, believe it’s happening for a reason.” He pauses, one arm moving up to wrap around your waist, the other stroking your arm, catching on the little cuff that was still there. “You gotta promise you won’t - it’s no secret, not anymore, but I don’t share this with everyone - so you promise you won’t laugh?” You nod, as best you can - he sounds nervous. “My mama, she er, she always used to say I was real special, that I had a gift.” You nod again, assuming this is about to lead into him singing something to you which, while you didn’t think it was going to be key to ending these nerve attacks you keep having, is certainly not something you would discourage. “But, she uh used to say I had the power to heal things, and, and I think its true baby, so will you - maybe if we can; if I can give you some of my ‘nergy and we think about it - real hard - together, we might get somewhere? Just gotta, gotta connect - spiritually. Maybe if I, If I push on you, and we meditate together we might, it might help?” He looks so hopeful and sounds so earnest that, despite your misgivings about the veracity of these claims, you agree.

“Ok, ok - if you think, if it might help. I just, I do wanna do things with you, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You won’t baby, you won’t.” He sits down, cross legged at the top of the bed, pulling you around to sit in front of him. He makes no mention of your nakedness, and you’re doing your best not to notice it yourself. “Ok, honey, so just, I’m gonna put my hands here, and you’re just going to breathe with me ok?” His eyes are bright, and his face open, like he’s simply excited to be able to share this with someone. You nod, placing your hands on top of where his are resting on his thighs. “Hold on baby, let’s get these offa ya too.” And he unbuttons your little cuffs, rubbing your wrists where they’d sat, “You don’t hafta, don’t need to think about anything ok darling? You just sit there, and focus on my hands and match my breathing ok? I’ll do all the hard work.” You nod again, and he shuffles himself a little, as if getting himself ready to settle in. “Oh - and I want you to close your eyes.” You look at him for a second, attempting to gauge that he’s being serious and this isn’t some kind of elaborate set-up. He gazes back at you, blue eyes completely calm, and you let your eyes slip closed. He hums a moment later, and then you feel him clasping your hands.

You can tell he’s focussing his breathing, slowing it down and drawing it out, and you match him as best you can, feeling him spread your fingers and press his palms into yours. It takes all of your attention and sufficiently distracts you from your panic and worry that quickly you don’t realise you’re no longer thinking about anything but the light pressure of his hand on yours and the air filling your lungs.

You’re entirely focussed on his slow, measured breaths, and your mind is blank - it’s almost a surprise when an immeasurable time later he flexes his hands, whispering at you to open your eyes. You come back up slowly, blinking in the artificial light of the plane, despite Elvis having used the dimmer.

Although you do, admittedly, feel better you’re still not wholly convinced by his healing properties. What you are grateful for however, is how happy he looks when you open your eyes, as if pleased to have been given the opportunity. And regardless of the ability to heal you, you also feel like something has changed. A shift in the energy between you.

His hand grasps yours, his fingers releasing you to trail up your wrist, up your forearm, and stroke back down to your palms again, brushing his fingers all the way down to your very fingertips and starting all over again. The motion of it, after the intimacy of the last half hour sends your nerve-endings alight, goosebumps forming over your flesh. You feel completely calm, completely ready for him again, your posture straight but relaxed. He moves his hands further up, brushing against your armpits and you gasp as he tickles you the tiniest amount. Suddenly, you find yourself up on your knees - leaning into him, falling into him. Your hands cupping his face, fingers tangling in his sideburns. He catches you in his relaxed arms, the soft fabric of his jacket rubbing against your nipples. He’s still breathing quite deeply, mouth parted - and it allows you to press your lips against his, tongue rapidly falling into his mouth. His hands spread across your torso, curving around your chest as you lean into him - trying to get as physically close to him as you emotionally feel.

His thumbs twirl in circles and your back arches as your nipples pebble against his soft touch - your pussy suddenly starting to feel unbearably hot in its three layers of tights and panties. You huff against his lips, pulling back to grasp the waistband of them all - determined to simply roll them all down together, saving them from him, and you do so in one motion almost immediately regretting that it left you completely bare while he was still fully clothed. He doesn’t give you a chance for it to be more than a fleeting thought though, lying you back, still focussed on making you breathless with his mouth. He kisses along your cheek to your neck and you gasp as he sucks on the sensitive patch just above where your collar bone joins your shoulder. You try to reciprocate, pushing the jacket off of him and struggling to unbutton the last of his shirt - exposing his chest and stomach. He bats your hand away when you go for the top of his pants, pulling away from you and he stands up - surveying you.

“You ready for me, baby?” You squirm a little under his gaze, and you’re not sure where the boldness comes from to reach a hand down, dragging a finger over your wetness, and spreading the folds of your labia open for him to see the glistening stickiness within.

“I dunno, what do you think?” His mouth gapes at you, breathing heavily, the motion as unexpected to him as it was to you, and as you sink a finger into yourself, moaning while you do, he hurriedly removes his pants - throwing them somewhere, his eyes never straying from your core. He pushes your arm out of the way a moment later,

“Think you look like a goddamn fucking centrefold - Jesus Christ, bunny, Lord, all for me, Halle-fucking-lujah,” He lowers himself back down, pressing a kiss to your chest, pumping himself a few times before lining his cock up with your entrance.

He sinks into you, slowly, letting you feel every inch of him that he guides into you. The slight overhang of his belly pressing against your middle as he holds you close, pressing into you as deeply as he can get. You feel every inch of him, every fold in his skin as he pushes in - you know he’s not huge, but it’s been so long that to have something in you two nights in a row, you can feel your entrance ache a little, and inside a slight burn from the stretch. He groans, feeling your tight walls clench around him as you shift, wrapping your legs around him crossing your ankles behind his back. He pants against your ear, kissing the sensitive patch of skin right behind. He’s encasing you in him, smothering you, the smell of him - he’d clearly showered after his show, the faint hint of neutrogena still clinging to him but his own scent, the mixture of his own musk and woodsy cologne layering over it - surrounds you. It altogether feels as intimate as the meditation did - just his and your bodies entangled together. He rests there, barely rocking into you, slowly, almost tenderly - before dragging himself out, rolling off.

“Gotta let you breathe, mama - wanna get deeper.” The concept seems impossible, but he’s pushing one of you legs to the side, rolling you slightly and clambering on top, straddling your other leg and kneeling down before he’s sinking in again.

“Oh - shit, shit - how’re you, oh my god Elvis, that’s - I’ve never,” He knocks against your walls, blindly, until he hits the little bundle of nerves inside you causing all thoughts to leave your head, unable to form a sentence past whimpering. You prop yourself up with one hand, holding onto him with the other, it’s new for you - to be able to watch someone’s face as well as watch them push themselves into you. Being able to look at his face, his mouth open, little grunts and moans flowing as his eyes half-close in pleasure is mind-blowing; beyond your wildest imagination.

“Oh baby, mama, you’re so - oh god, how are you still so tight, you ain’t been properly broken in yet, have you, fuck,” His hips are thrusting into you now, little jolts of pleasure running down your spine and you whine as he hushes you, rubbing a hand across your tummy, moving it up to grasp at your breast. He squeezes, on the edge of too hard, swiping his thumb across your nipple as he pinches it - causing you to clench down on him again, prompting a low groan out of his own mouth. He strokes down your torso, before resting his hand on you, it feels huge across your stomach, heavy and hot almost feeling like it’s burning through you. He slips his thumb lower, coaxing your clitoris out from hiding.

“Want you to go with me, C’mon now baby - c’mon bun, I’m close,” He slams his hips into you, “Al-most there,” His fingers rub over you a little faster, and your nails of your supporting hand dig into your own hair, the other clutching his arm, as you tumble over the edge, shouting,

“Oh - oh - oh, god, Elvis - daddy, god, fuck that’s - oh god,” You hear him swear, pulling out just in time and spraying over your stomach, his fingers coming off of you, allowing you to come down, your body still trembling for a few moments.

When you feel like you’re properly back on earth, a few minutes later, you’re still lying back, panting, while you hear him stand and get himself wiped off. Coming over to you to gently wipe away the mess on your tummy. He looks over at you, eyes still half-lidded,

“C’mon ‘lil bunny, time to get back to work.” He pats your thighs and you shakily stand up. Despite his hurry he behaves almost unexpectedly gentlemanly and fetches your bag for you from beside the door. “Ain’t gonna make you put that torture device back on - you can do the leather if you want.” You frown, thinking for a moment - everyone will know what you’ve been up to then, but then you laugh to yourself a little - everyone already certainly knows. You pause before getting your underwear back on, slightly surprised at his speed, looking over at him;

“You sure you won’t…don’t wanna go again?” He looks a little bashful for a second,

“ ‘m not, I’m an ole man now baby.” Is all he says in reply, but it does the job in conveying what he meant. You look over at him - not sure that you’d describe him as old, he’s what… 38, 39? But you leave it be - dressing in the little leather coat/wrap dress. As you sit to roll your tights over your legs though he stops you, looking you over. “Bunny? Leave off the hose.”

“Sure daddy, sure.” You obey, stripping them off again and pulling your boots onto your bare legs - undoubtedly you’ll get a blister but it’s worth it for the pleased way he looks at you and the kiss on the top of your head in reward for your obedience. You nip into the bathroom, trying to sort your hair and touch up your make-up, and by the time you’re ready to come out he’s gone.

You walk out with your head up, and while you’re greeted with a series of smirks and some whispers you’re not as panicked about it as before, and you’re relieved he came out before you, positive that he took the brunt of any teasing. He winks at you when you pass him, dressed without his shirt now, but otherwise ignores you. This doesn’t upset you like before - you’re content that only you and him truly know what’s just gone on and that your new, intimate, connection is safe and tucked away just for the two of you. It feels like you’ve been wrapped up in him for days and yet when you look over at the clock ticking away you realise you’ve only been in the air for an hour and a half. You feel a little like you’ve left a tiny part of yourself in that room with him, and that you should feel more vulnerable - more exposed than you do. Instead, you feel calm - your tension almost completely gone and with that you start to feel the possibility that you might actually be able to enjoy the next few hours.

A couple of hours later, you’re dancing in the disco room - providing entertainment although you’re sure most of them, certainly Elvis, should be sleeping; unsure where the burst of energy from everyone has come from. But still, you’re dancing about with the other girls, playfully messing around, when he - from his sat position, lavender tinted glasses now on his nose, pulls you down to whisper in your ear,

“C’mon bunny, give me a little show - pick one of ‘em.” He gestures to the other girls bobbing around you. You look at him, mouth open, a little shocked at his bold request - so different from the sweet, slow, intimate behaviour from earlier. It’s not something you’re totally opposed to, but….in public? It’s as if he’s reading your mind; reassuring you -

“S’ok, baby, s’just us up here - just me and m’boys,” He pats you on the thigh, “Go on - there’s a good girl.” You stumble forward a little and make eye contact with Maggie - who was already looking over, clearly eager to share his attention. You look back over to Elvis, watching him grin at her, pleased that she seems so willing, “Just wanna watch you two kiss honey, nothing more - don’t gotta be that dirty but just… just a little. Just for me.” You nod, steeling yourself. But Maggie isn’t reluctant in any way, threading her fingers through yours to pull you closer. The tie of your leather dress brushes against her bare thigh, still in the bunny corset, and you feel her shudder against you as you step completely into her space.

It’s a little strange, kissing her, different but simultaneously essentially the same. The startling difference was the … niceness of it, it was sweet and slow and gentle. Different from the lip biting and teasing of the men you’d kissed. You forget, for a moment, all the other people in the room, it’s narrowed to just the three of you although really you’re putting on a show for everyone, and you open your eyes - watching Elvis watch you. Despite Maggie’s lips on yours - her soft body still pressed against you - your focus is solely on him. His eyes are burning into you, and his legs are spread, thighs thick and inviting. You put a little more effort in, grasping her hair, rubbing down her back, and you listen to him huff a little chuckle when you jokingly squeeze her tail, and slot your leg between hers. You keep eye contact behind her head, watching him swallow, shifting a little to rub a hand over himself - completely unabashed at doing so in front of everyone. The sight of him sat there, looking like a sultan surveying his harem, blue eyes serious and intense, makes your eyes slip closed, and you put all your focus into the feeling of being watched and being kissed. You pull away, laughing as you both sway a little from the force of coming apart - you look over at him;

“That alright Da-El?” He beams at you,

“Perfect girls - so goddamn perfect.” He pats his thigh, the outline of his hardening cock almost completely visible, “Why don’t you come over here bunnies, let me have a better look.” You both do as he asks, giggling, as you tumble together onto his lap. It’s messier now, more fun, her hands scrabbling down your sides, and yours cupping her cheeks. You feel so hyper from it all that you almost feel drunk. His hand moves to support your lower back as you lean across to kiss Maggie again, giggling a little against her lips as she almost tips backwards until his arm catches her.

“God, men fucking dream about this dolls - two little bunnies sat in their laps. But this is just for me ain’t it? Just for me?” His head is tipped back, but he swings it forward to look at you both - intensely, possessively. How a man could be possessive over two women he’d only known 48 hours, on a plane he didn’t even own, was mind-boggling - the sheer confidence required for that kind of thought overwhelming. Yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it, your own head nodding insistently to reassure him. Maggie looks askance at you, but still rapidly nods - the slight lie going unnoticed. His thigh flexes and where you’ve leant forward has hitched your tiny skirt up high enough that you’re now entirely sat feeling the soft fabric encasing his thigh underneath you rub against your bare legs. You can’t help but rock against it, just the tiniest amount. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you three, and instead of the shame you expected to feel, your stomach tightens in arousal at the sensation of being watched. He lets out a little moan, and it only makes you work harder, slipping your tongue into Maggie’s mouth as she pants against your lips. You feel Elvis’ hand slide up your body to the side of your ribcage, his thumb brushing your breast. You pull back, and he gasps as you stroke the outside of his soft trouser leg, gently rubbing the fabric over his cock. Elvis abruptly stands, pushing you both off.

“Think there might be some important business I need to do in Hef’s office. Why don’t you two run along ahead - gonna need,” he looks sideways, jokingly, playing it up for your forgotten audience, “gonna need a couple of helping hands.” You give what can only be described as a polite smile, wondering what on earth has gotten into you that you were willing to display yourself like that in public. But for whatever reason you’re walking back into the bedroom again - this time following behind Maggie. You’re watching her from behind, and though you’ve seen her in uniform countless times you’re suddenly left wondering if her shape has always looked that inviting to grab - or if the teddy had always revealed so much of her ass. She seems far more at home in Hugh’s private quarters than you ever did the first time, and you realise suddenly that it’s very probable this isn’t her first time back here with a guest. The realisation shoots a burst of anxiety through you again, that you try to immediately brush away, that this whole thing really was just expected of you.

Elvis shuts the door behind him when he comes in, immediately setting the mood lighting. Before resting his hand on your back and pulling you in for a quick kiss. It’s strange kissing him again now, you expect for some reason his lips to feel rough in comparison to Maggie’s, masculine instead of her soft femininity, but as always his lips are full and buttery soft a perfect representation of the juxtaposition of his personality. He pulls away too soon and you find yourself leaning into him, eyes still closed, chasing the sensation, pouting when he laughs at you.

“You good to go honey, or do you need a hand givin’ me a show?” You’re confused by what he’s offering, until you notice he’s holding out his hand two little pills sat in it. “Just vitamins baby,” You shake your head, you’re a little nervous but despite the environment you’re working in you’ve not taken anything yet, and the concept of it scares you more than your nerves. You’re surprised though when Maggie’s hand comes from nowhere, plucking one of them out of his palm and swallowing it dry. He beams at her, “Atta girl.” Maggie giggles at him,

“Thank you daddy,” and he glances over at you, sideways, again before swallowing the leftover pill.

He claps his hands, before suddenly, playfully, throwing you over his shoulder and onto the bed. You’re shocked at the display of physicality - not expecting it at all, and even more surprised when a moment later Maggie is thrown in much the same manner, bumping onto the bed and knocking into you. He settles himself up by the cushions, looking expectantly at the pair of you of you sprawled out and he gestures to the rest of the bed. He shifts, settling his hands on his open thighs, the hard outline of his cock almost completely visible through his pants. He clenches them into fists, like he’s trying not to touch. He looks, with his hair wild and his glasses on, so classically - typically Elvis that it makes your heart rate increase just watching him.

“Go on then, pretty little bunnies - wanna see you two - wanna see you havin’ fun. Give me a show.” It’s not a request but a command, and even if you’d wanted to (which you didn’t) you can’t do anything but obey.

Maggie responds with a “Yes, sir,” as you move to situate yourself, kneeling at the bottom of the bed and she crawls over to meet you. This time she takes control, kissing you, her hands moving over the little leather coat-dress. It feels different having her lithe, nylon covered leg pushing in between yours instead of Elvis’ thick thigh. You wouldn’t go so far to say it’s better, but the friction against your thin panties and the way it allows your legs and thighs to stay fairly close, to clench and move is appealing. You can’t help but rock against her, clutching at her waist - she laughs into your mouth, pulling your hair a little as she presses gentle kisses down your neck. You gasp, head falling back, before you pull away to lean forward again, catching her face between your hands, you rub against her, drawing her front back towards you - you giggle, whispering,

“Mags’ I can’t - can’t believe we’re doing this...” Elvis chuckles behind you, clearly you weren’t as quiet as you thought, and that makes you laugh harder. It’s fun and flirty and you haven’t felt this chill about something in a while - the ability to just zone out and enjoy the sensations without having to worry about the future. You start to unbelt your dress, trying to move quickly - frantically, and as soon as you’ve got it unbuttoned Maggie is palming at you, pushing it down your shoulders. She moves forward a little more, and you lean back - letting Elvis get a better look at your newly uncovered skin. She moves her hand to brush against your panty-covered mound and you gasp. Your head falling forward onto her shoulder at the feel, so different from your own fingers or his thick digits, she moves her leg and you’re suddenly humping against nothing - you whine into the air, Elvis interrupting you as you try to pull her back.

“Sl-slow down girls, get tha’ dress off and go a lil’ slower - there’s no rush. No need to rush now - just slow - slow it down.” You nod trying to still your hips, gasping out,

“Ok, ok, daddy - well - we’ll slow -ah- down,” and Maggie pushes you, both of you tumbling backwards. You roll for a moment, the silk of Maggie’s costume rubbing against your skin, the coolness a welcome relief to your burning skin. You suddenly catch, out of the corner of your eye, Elvis shifting, his arm moving at a rapid pace and you don’t know why, considering what you’re currently doing, you’re shocked to realise he has his cock out, that he’s touching himself watching you. You accidentally make eye contact, and you’re taken aback by the look on his face, his lip curling in pleasure. To be watched with such burning desire is shocking, and would be enough to make you shy had you not had this overwhelming sexual confidence come over you from somewhere. You absently think that you should probably help Maggie out of her corset, the pufftail isn’t comfortable to lie in and she was probably wishing for more breathability right now, but before you can offer she’s stroking a finger down you and all thoughts fly out of your head. She looks up at Elvis, questioning something that you can’t hear through your single-minded tunnel vision and hearing, but you manage to catch his reply;

“No - no, just - just, just over top, honey, not - no, that’s just for me.” And she resumes to touching you over the top of the growing dampness of your panties, you groan at the sheer level of objectification; at being spoken about as if you were just there for his amusement, that you were his. Maggie renews her efforts though, and her fingers quickly, even over the soft cotton fabric of your underwear, find the spot to make you squirm, hips bucking into her. She soothes you, and you wonder if you should be reciprocating in some way but as her delicate fingers push the tiniest fold of fabric into you, you’re lost clutching at the fur throw, the slight friction easing as it gathers up your slick. She moves her finger to circle around your clit, bunching the fabric between her thumb and fingers and rubbing it against you. You somehow manage to blink open your eyes, leaning your head all the way back to look at Elvis; his entire focus is on what’s happening between your legs - it causes a shudder to run through you, and your stomach tightens as you feel your legs start to cramp;

“Go on baby, hold it for me, hold it - don’t - want you to keep her just there for me - that’s it. Stop stop, that’s just for me.” She pulls her hand away and your back arches as whine, so close to the edge.

He leans in gripping Maggie’s neck to kiss her and you can hear the wet smack of their lips together, he pulls back, briefly “Don’t worry, honey, don't wanna make you jealous…just wanna say thank you for such a lovely show - that’s alright isn’t it?” You can’t do anything but agree and he returns to her, hands on her neck and head to hold her in place. Watching it up close you can understand why he wanted to watch himself, you wonder if that’s what you look like with him too; all teeth and tongue and lips. You squirm, still feeling the possibility of your orgasm.

“Now go on, there’s a good girl, run along now, thank you darling - You gonna be alright? You want me to get one of the boys to uh, see to ya properly?” She shakes her head, almost fondly as if laughing that she might need his help to find a willing partner. “Well - You tell ‘em I said it’s ok.” He sends her on her way like he’s pimping her out for the night, you hate how it makes your core throb a little, and you can’t help but glow at being the very obviously chosen one; not just one night but two in a row. Maggie looks back at you, still lying on the fur throw, winks and leaves - sauntering through the door. When she’s gone Elvis turns back to you, rubbing sweeping circles on your stomach,

“Just wanna get you goin’ again for me,” His hand starts to trail down, and you don’t know what’s come over you but you put your own out - grasping his wrist to stop him wanting him to know;

“Daddy, I’ve never - that was my first time with,” He laughs,

“Oh, honey, I know, I know. Did you like it?” You nod, and he laughs again, “I’ll bring my camera next time baby, can’t believe Hef’s not got one installed in here somewhere. What a waste.” He tries to move but you hold his hand where it is, causing him to look calculatingly over you, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Was there something you wanted?”

“I…” You squirm under the pressure of his gaze and the tone of his voice.

“C’mon bunny, tell me what you want.” You nod, a bit nervous - but you had stopped his hand for a reason.

“Could you, would you… you know.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face when he responds,

“No, sorry, I don’t.” You whine,

“Ugh - would you, with your tongue?”

“Ohh - you want me to go back down on you? Have another taste of that sweet yittle bunny cunt?” You wriggle at his harsh wording mixed with his babying tone, but you frantically nod. He grins, taking his glasses off and throwing them somewhere on the bed.

“Well ain’t today just my lucky day.” He manhandles you into a better position, ripping your underwear off, pushing you against the cushions and shoving one underneath your hips - moving to situate himself between your thighs. He wiggles like a cartoon about to be served at a restaurant - almost certainly to make you laugh and you comply, nervously giggling, mind preoccupied with hoping that you taste alright now that you’ve asked for it. He spreads you open, kissing your inner thigh before moving closer to your core, and you can feel yourself pulse with anticipation.

He tentatively licks you, just a gentle, wet stripe and you immediately gasp - eyes flying wide open, startled at how sensitive you already felt. Although it shouldn’t come as any surprise, you’d been slick and swollen since you’d fucked earlier, and a bit sore since last night. He flattens his tongue, spreading your folds, and moves his fingers in to keep you spread open. Your hips buck of their own accord when he wets his lips and blows cold air onto you, watching you squirm and clench in response. You can feel his smile before he concentrates again his tongue lapping at your entrance. Your legs come up, needing more support to better grind onto him and your hands move down to grip his hair, thumbs digging into the side of his face, his sideburns, while your fingers find purchase in his long strands, gently holding him in place. He renews his efforts, flicking his tongue in your inner folds and he moves one of his hands to brace your stomach down as he moves to lick directly over your clit - your hips thrusting up enough in response for you to understand the necessity of his hand holding you down. You didn’t realise you could become addicted to the feel of something so quickly, but you’re not sure you’re going to be able to live without someone, preferably him, doing this to you regularly. The warm wet pressure builds, and on top of where you were already on the edge it’s quickly building to be almost too much. He pulls back just as you think you’re about to go over the edge and you groan, but he smiles at you, catching his breath, lips glistening with your slick.

“Oh god - is that, is that me on you?” He grins,

“Sure is baby, sweetest honey from my honey bun-bun.” He licks his lips, and you groan again, your tummy flipping from how close you still feel,

“Elvis - Daddy - need you, need more,” He leans back down, whispering, crooning in babytalk to your pussy;

“Oh baby, baby, poor little, yittle, baby bunny - daddy’s gonna take real good care of you now, no more games baby, no that’s right, gonna get you right there,” He presses his lips to your clit kissing it, nose buried in you. Your entire focus is on the sensations as he moves down to spear his tongue into you, so different from a finger or cock and you almost choke from the force of the puff of air you exhale, as he curls it just so; you didn’t even know it was possible to do that and you wonder how much practice at this he really has.

You can’t bear to look down at him anymore, the sight of his long lashes brushing against you, reminding you of who it was between your legs, watching you almost too much and you throw your head back, eyes closing as he thrusts his tongue in and out. He moves to add his thumb in, rubbing over your clit as his tongue continues to do its job, soothingly licking where you’re sore around the entrance to your hole. Your stomach tightens as he maintains a steady pace and you clench around him, thighs coming to rest on either side of his head, as you rock on his tongue and fingers. It’s not long, only moments when the pressure and movement get you there, body jumping as you crest over the wave of your orgasm. He licks you through it, and it means you just keep going. It’s overwhelming, and not something you’ve experienced before, the extended shaking and shuddering as you jolt around, jumping with every fizzle of pleasure. Finally, he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again, panting as you force your body to relax.

A minute or so later you’re able to sit up a little more, opening your eyes properly again. You look over at Elvis and he’s got his cock in his hand - you’re tired but you feel like you have to show him some kind of appreciation for the best orgasm of your life so you lean up on your elbows, reaching a hand down to join his, you pump it once or twice before whispering to him,

“Let me Daddy,” and you sink your mouth down onto him. He gasps in surprise swearing

“Lord hav- oh god baby, bunny, oh shit.” as you hum around him, swallowing. He was clearly already very close and it only takes a couple of moments in the hot, wet, pressure of your mouth and throat before he’s warning you,

“Gonna, it’s, I’m gonna go off baby, it’s - I’m close, real fu-cking close.” And with that he thrusts once, twice, while you hollow your cheeks - sucking down hard and that’s all it takes for him to be spurting into your mouth. You flinch, surprised, despite his warning, at the speed the taste unexpected, but still you swallow it down. “Fuck - fuck, thank you bunny, thank you.” He’s sweet, offering more gratitude than you’ve ever received from a man. You kiss his tip as you pull away and once again fall onto your back. You lie back, panting, and he joins you, curling around you - cuddling into you for the first time since you started this whole thing. You roll into him, enjoying being cradled in his thick arms, trying to comprehend the events of the past forty eight hours and how you’re going to be returning back to your normal life in only another few hours, wondering what Maggie chose to do, when he starts to talk, fingers tracing circles on your arms.

“You know - my daddy’s - I got ‘im buyin’ me my own jet.” Your brow furrows a little, unsure where he’s going with this - “I uh, I - you’ll still have a cute little outfit, I like - like to dress ma girls up but, but I promise it’ll be … stretchy and uh, I won’t - I won’t assume anything but - but I sure would like it if you, you would come on board with me?” He perhaps should have stopped there but he keeps talking, “It also - it would mean more time together, bunny, fewer girls around. Well…fewer in uniform anyway.” You grimace a little - so what is he suggesting; you be his on call plane whore? You hate that you want it, hate that you’re so desperate for him, in any way you can have him - to whatever capacity he’s available that you’re going to agree.

“Of course - that would, that would be a dream come true Elvis, I would love to,” You’re not entirely stupid though. You smile at him, agreeing but not believing - this happens all the time in the clubs too; men promising things that never materialise - the drunker they get the more outlandish the claims; cars, houses, vacations, jobs. You know of too many girls who quit because they were promised a job as someone’s secretary only for the role to never materialise to put too much stock into his question. Besides, you still have two more flights with Elvis already in Big Bunny’s calendar - you were sure there’s more than enough time for him to make the offer again if he was really serious.

“Wha-what’s your schedule like?… You got a boyfriend?” You pause, uncertain where this is going, surely these were questions that should have been asked yesterday? You suddenly realise that you know he’s seeing someone if only from the overheard phone-call but that you also had no idea if you were turning into the other woman or something. Or if you were just a girl to pass the time with.

“I - uh, no. No, no-one. I’m not, we’re kept quite busy…” He frowns, kissing the top of your shoulder,

“Would you, you could come watch a show if you, I’ll get tickets for you and the girls if you want?” You smile,

“That would be lovely, thank you -” He continues,

“You could come a little earlier if you wanted, I’m playing somewhere new tomorrow, well - uh,” he looks over at the clock, grimacing, “Today. So I gotta check the sound and things, you could come to the rehearsal? I want you there baby,” You register some shock at his last words but nod, agreeing, it sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime and you go to say it but you suddenly realise, from the little puffing breaths on your shoulder he’s fallen asleep practically mid-sentence. You look around for the clock, before you, with some wonder, discover there’s still ninety minutes left of the flight and close your own eyes too. The others can do the stewarding, you’re doing the main job - keeping Elvis happy.

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