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#(but i didn't really know a lot about him beyond that? i was told he was in the hiphop team and thought 'neat. sounds like my type of guy')
changbinlov3r · 1 day
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The very first night | L.M.
Pairing: Lee Know x afab!reader
Summary: after a few months of dating Minho, you two finally have your very first night.
Genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers
Words count: ± 3,200
THIS ONE AND ALL MY CONTENTS ARE +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
If you like my content don't forget to ✨reblog✨
Warnings: virgin!Minho, virgin!reader, very sloppy and eager sex, unprotected piv(wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral(F receiving), biting(I think that's all)
A/N: I was reading this fic by @moonlinos and had this thought: "what would be like to have your first time with inexperienced bf Minho" and it came out like this 🥺 I'd like to tell @/moonlinos that I just found out about your blog and your writing is amazing, you're really an inspiration 🫶🏻
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You met Minho on your first day of college, you were lost in the campus trying to find the orientation room when you bumped into someone, letting your books and bag fall to the floor.
It was your fault, you were looking around and didn't see the man coming in your direction. You apologized right away, more preoccupied with picking up your things rather than looking in his face but he didn't answer you, waiting for you to properly look him in the eyes.
To say that you two hit it off instantly when your eyes met his, it's an understatement. You even blinked a few times making sure you weren't dreaming. That guy was the prettiest man you have ever seen and it's not even an exaggeration. He was wearing a light pink sweater with a white dress shirt below, dark blue jeans and all stars. It was an outfit that would look average in anyone else but it looked like a masterpiece in him.
You didn't want to let him go so in the spur of the moment, you asked if he knew where to find the orientation for your major, just to find out he was also going there. After that day you two got closer like it was nothing, you were never good at making friends but it seemed so natural with him, like it just happened you didn't have to put a lot of effort into it.
You first realized your feelings for him when he told you he had a date coming up. You felt like throwing up and the ache on your chest just made the whole situation more excruciating.
You avoided him for a week after that, trying to convince yourself that you weren't in love with him or at least that you could pretend not to be in love with him.
When he showed up at your dorm in the middle of the night looking extremely tired, eye bags under his eyes and hair a mess, he inquired why you were being like that and you suddenly didn't want to pretend anymore. You decided in the split of a second that it was worth it to confess to him, so you did.
He blinked once, twice and for a third time, not letting out a single word, making you suddenly regret everything that you said to him. What if he wanted to end your friendship? You don't think you could handle losing him as your friend too.
But in an unexpected turn of events he stepped close to you, cupping your face with his hands and kissing you.
“I thought you didn't like me back”, he whispered after pulling away, breathless. “That's why I was trying to move on”
You felt relief wash all over you, so he liked you back it seems.
After months of dating, you still hadn't gone beyond kissing and some light touching. You always let things flow in your relationship, knowing that you two would give the next step when you were ready. And it was sooner than you expected.
The end of the semester had arrived, finals were finally over and you could take a deep breath. You and Minho would meet in the cafe in front of the college gates, grab some coffee and go back to his apartment to watch some movies and cuddle. His roommates would be out tonight partying to celebrate the end of the semester and the apartment would be just yours.
“Fried chicken or pizza?” He asks, scrolling on his phone while selecting something to order.
“Fried chicken?” You ask back, making him glare at you. He hates how indecisive you are so he always tries to give you few options.
“Ordered”, he tells you.
“I'm gonna take a shower”, you get up going to the bathroom.
Your bath is a bit longer than usual, you are not in a hurry today since you can stay up all night and sleep all day tomorrow but when you open your eyes there's a surprise in the wall next to you.
“Minho!” You yell, screaming like you just saw a ghost. You grab a towel and jump to the other side of the bathroom, watching as your boyfriend swings the door open, worry in his face.
When he looks at you and sees you are safe and sound, he scowls.
“What is it?” He rushes you, impatiently.
You point out in the bathroom, tears in your eyes.
“Did you make all this scandal because of a cockroach?” He asks, huffing but goes after it and kills it for you.
“You know I hate them”, you make a disgusted face. “They are gross”
He sighs, just now paying attention to you and noticing that you have only a towel covering you. You only remember that fact when his cheeks and ears turn pink and you look down, instantly covering your chest.
“Don't look!” You whine, hiding behind the door.
“Okay! Okay!” He puts his hands up in surrender, turning around and closing the door.
What follows after that is an awkward atmosphere, you are boyfriend and girlfriend but never have seen each other naked. You know it's something that is certain to happen but you never really discussed much about it.
You decide to address the issue when you are already on your second glass of soju. You look at him challengingly, narrowing your eyes.
“I think I should see you without a shirt since you have seen me too”, you tell him. It's not what you wanted to say, you wanted to ask if he ever thought about your first time but the moment you were going to say it you chickened out.
“I haven't seen you without a shirt though”, he says, “you were covered by a towel”
“But that's the equivalent of me being naked in front of you, so now you have to pay me back”, you roll out your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. You're not drunk enough to be doing that but you're definitely embarrassed enough to be doing that.
Minho sighs, knowing you won't drop it. So he puts his hands on the collar of his shirt, pulling it off, revealing his abs.
You can feel your cheeks burning, you have never seen him without a shirt and the only thing that comes to your mind to describe him is: tempting.
You gulped down, feeling a strange pool form in your panties, you can feel it getting soaked.
“I think now it's your time to pay me back”, he raises a brow, making you bite nervously on your bottom lip.
“I'm not wearing a bra”, you whisper, feeling your heart beat faster at each passing second.
“I wasn't either”, he jokes, making you punch him in the arm. When Minho doesn't look away, staring at you intensely, you realize he's being serious about that so you gather all the courage you have, grabbing the rem of your — well, it's actually his, shirt and pulling it off, letting it fall down to the ground as you become completely mesmerized by the look on his face.
Minho has his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, lust emanating out of him. You can see his chest rise and fall at a fast pace.
“Can… Can I touch you?” He asks, looking into your eyes desperately and you nod, watching as he comes closer, cupping your breasts with both of his hands. He's on his knees in front of you, kneading on the soft flesh of your chest. Minho pinches your nipple, groaning when you let a moan escape. He's sure it's the prettiest sound he has ever listened to.
He leans over you, taking your lips into his. The way he kisses you stays the same, calm and gentle. He trails wet kisses down your jaw, to your neck, seizing the opportunity to mark you with his teeth, something he loves to do and that's the closest he has ever been to your chest until today. He goes down tracing kisses till he's in front of your breasts, Minho kisses the hill between them and attaches his mouth to the right one, still massaging the left one, pinching the bud eventually because likes to hear you whimper and sigh.
Your hands go to his hair, pressing him against your chest. You have your eyes closed shut, probably an unflattering face of pure pleasure but you really don't care. Minho sucks at your other breast before going down, trailing wet kisses down your stomach.
You're embarrassed, no one has ever seen you so vulnerable like that and you really want to have him go down on you but you're a bit scared since your friends always talk about how guys find it a hassle to go down on girls. You know Minho is not an asshole, he won't want you to do the same to him if he can't pleasure you first.
“Can I?” He asks when he notices your hesitancy, his fingers are hooked at the waistband of your sweats, playing with the elastic while you decide if you'll let him continue.
“You don't have to feel obligated”, you bite on your bottom lip, not very sure on what to do next.
“I don't, I really want to do it”, he says, but seeing as you don't look like you believe him, he chuckles. “Chan said he really enjoys going down on his girlfriend, I wanted to try it since we started dating but didn't know how to ask”, you can see his ears turning a dark shade of red, making your heart beat faster.
You nod, feeling more nervous than before.
“Can we kiss a little bit more?” You ask and he nods frantically.
“We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready”, he says, hovering over you and kissing your neck.
“I'm ready”, you cup his face, making him look at you. “I'm just nervous”, you chuckle awkwardly.
“It's fine”, he gives you a peek on the lips. “Should we move to the bed?” He asks and you nod, getting up as Minho collects your things and his, following you to his bedroom.
It takes you half an hour of making out to grab Minho's hand and pull it down to your core, you lift the waistband of your sweats and panties so his hand can find your soaked pussy. He slides one of his fingers between your folds gathering your slick and pressing it on your clit.
“Is it good like this?” He asks, even though your face should give it in right away that he's pleasuring you.
“Yes, please don't stop”, you put your hands on his arms, digging your nails on his skin. Minho chuckles, doing what you asked but also adding another finger, making you open your eyes in an instant to stare at him with wide eyes. “Oh”, it's the only thing you can let out when you feel the knot forming on your lower stomach.
He kisses you, turning the experience into something much more deeper. By the way he kisses you, no longer the calm and gentle but now an eager and hungry kiss, you can feel how urgent he's feeling, how much he wants you and that's enough to make you come on his fingers.
You take a few deep breaths before opening your eyes just to witness your boyfriend putting his fingers into his mouth and licking them clean. You gulp, feeling a burn run through your body.
“Can I go down on you now?” He asks, eyeing you eagerly and you nod, still too dazed by your orgasm.
Minho doesn't lose time, moving to your bottom part and pulling off your pants and underwear with him. He looks at your pussy enamored, like you're the prettiest creature he has ever seen and that makes you embarrassed, moving your hands to cover yourself but your boyfriend shakes his head, preventing you from continuing.
“Don't cover yourself. You're so beautiful, I have no words to describe it”, he tells you, eyes so sincere you can't even tease him about lying.
You nod once more, laying down comfortably as he trails kisses up your legs. Minho kisses your ankles, then your calves. He follows the path to your knees, kissing the inside of each and then going to your thighs, doing the same thing. When he leans down on your core, you hold your breath, feeling his hitting on your skin. You have goosebumps all over your body when he kisses your clit, making you sigh and let go.
Minho licks a huge strip between your folds, gathering all the juice he can get on his tongue, enjoying your taste. You moan loudly, earning a glance from him, he was so concentrated by his own pleasure on feeling your pussy on his mouth that he forgot to check what was your reaction and he's glad to find that you're enjoying yourself, hands flying to his hair as you pull him more into your cunt. He keeps licking your clit, sucking and even biting just to make you shudder glaring at him. He chuckles every time, making the vibrations stimulate you even more.
Minho puts on a finger, testing the water to see how you react, he puts on another one when you look unbothered by just one, earning a reaction from you as you whine and moan. You can feel your second orgasm of the night being ripped out of you, as he intensifies his sucking on your clit and his fingers thrusting inside you.
You let out the louder couple of moans of the night, holding onto the sheets for dear life as you tremble and arch your back in pleasure. You're absolutely fucked out and have no idea how Minho can keep going, his hair is a mess and his lips are swollen, his face is covered on your juice from his mouth until his chin. When he kisses you again, you can feel your own taste on his tongue, making you groan.
You can feel his hardness pressing against your leg. He still has his pants on looking painfully tight.
“You wanna keep going?” He asks and you nod, biting on your lip. “I think Chan has some condoms stocked, I'm gonna take a look”, he starts moving out of the bed but you hold his wrist, pulling him back to you.
“I'm on the pill”, you bite on your bottom lip, “I’ve been taking it since we started dating”, you prop yourself up, leaning on your elbows as you kiss him, “wanna feel you”, you say, making his breath hitch and his face turns red.
He nods, blinking a few times before leaning over to kiss you once more. His body hovers over yours as he positions himself between your legs, his cock teasing your entrance carefully.
“If it hurts, tell me”, he checks with you for the last time and you nod. He starts pushing his cock inside you, your hands are holding him by the shoulders, digging your nails on him but he doesn't seem to mind.
He closes his eyes briefly, feeling your velvet walls squeezing him so much it's hard to keep going. Minho stops when he hears you sniff, opening his eyes just to find your eyes full of tears and trembling lips.
“Am I hurting you? You should say it if I am”, he scolds you gently, something only he can do.
“The first time is supposed to hurt”, you explain.
“But I can do something to make it hurt less if you tell me what you're feeling”, he kisses your forehead, having all the care to not move inside you.
“You're already making it so much more comfortable”, you smile, kissing his nose.
“Maybe you should be on top, that way you can have the control”, he tells you and you ponder for a minute, nodding.
He pulls out of you, making you whine to the sudden loss, making you feel empty. Minho chuckles, kissing you before laying down to watch you be the one to come on top of him.
You grab his cock, position it in your entrance and push it in. You're much more brave than him, Minho thinks, but also you're the one who knows how much pain you can handle so it's only right for you to have the control — at least on your first time.
You sink down on his cock slowly, making him grab the sheets rather than your hips, too afraid to put too much pressure on you and hurt you. Your face tells him you're in pain, but he knows there's not much he can do about it other than soothe you. So he caresses your back with one hand and your face with the other, sliding his hands to your breasts and kneading at them so you can at least relax a bit.
When you finally have all of him inside of you, you sigh, staying still for a couple of minutes. Minho feels like he can explode at any second, you're squeezing him like crazy but he doesn't want to hurry you so he waits for you to move.
You start grinding on him, rubbing your clit on his pelvic bone and trying to relax the most. After a while the pain is almost not perceptible and you start riding him at a fast pace.
“Fuck, you feel so good”, Minho says, finally grabbing at your hips to pull you down on him.
You can't really form coherent sentences, so the chant of “ah-ah-ah” followed by your kisses on him and you marking his chest is the biggest form of communication you can manage at the moment.
Minho thinks you're the prettiest person he has ever seen, he thought that the moment your eyes lock for the first time and he'll think that until you two are too old to remember what you ate the day before.
When he feels like he's about to cum, he warns you and you nod to let him know you understand but keeps sinking down on him even deeper. He paints your walls white while trembling, his bottom lip stuck between his bunny teeth as he holds your hips with such strength that you know it's gonna bruise. But you don't mind, not at all.
You didn't cum this time, it wasn't as painful as it could be but still painful enough to not edge you.
“I'm sorry you didn't finish”, he pouts as you pull out of him and snuggle yourself in his arms.
“You made me come twice”, you chuckle, making him smile before kissing the top of your head.
“But I wanted to do it a third time”, he huffs.
“We have all the time in the world”, you tell him, resting your chin on his chest as you watch him grin.
“Yes, now you're mine forever”, he giggles to your widened eyes.
“Should I be worried?” You ask and he shakes his head.
“You were already mine from the start, you just didn't know it yet”, he kisses you, pulling away just to stare at you for a few seconds. “I love you”, he confesses and you feel your cheeks burning.
“I love you”, you say, closing the distance between the two of you and kissing him again.
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bluestarjay · 3 days
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It's kind of shocking how Hinata is so commonly characterized as someone who is perfect at making friends and is a 100% extrovert-- which yes, he is, but I think people are forgetting how much anxiety he has and how much of a people pleaser he is. I'm rewatching Haikyuu rn and I'm on S1 E5, and the way Daichi came up to Hinata and his immediate response was "I'll block, I'll set, I'll do whatever you need me to!!" And the way he makes promises he can't keep because he wants people to like him is kind of sad. I doubt he had many friends growing up other than Izumi and Kouji, and was probably bullied for being loud, obnoxious, and a weirdo for playing volleyball with the girls or being so into volleyball. So now he makes promises he can't keep and tries to go above and beyond for the team because he doesn't want them to get rid of him or not take him seriously. Yes, he's good at making friends, but I doubt he knows how or why. He's clearly worried that people are only friends with him out of convenience and his jumping skills; that since they play together, they /have/ to be friends. He just wants to finally be of use to someone; for someone to take him seriously; someone who won't ignore him around other people bc they don't want to be seen with him (silly funny little hc of mine 🥰🥰) . But that's also why Karasuno is so great, because they really are a family. They love Hinata and are friends with him, and they like him because he's a good person, not because they have to be since they play together, or just because he's skilled and they want to take that from him. And maybe at first, Hinata didn't realize that, since after being ignored and bullied and mocked, he thought the only way someone would possibly want him around was because he could help them win. And since he's so short, of course, taller, older, buffer players would intimidate him because they could easily take advantage of the height difference, so all of his bathroom encounters are NOT helping his anxiety 😭😭😭 and the puking??? When hinata threw up on Tanaka?? Everybody is always so focused on Yamaguchi's anxiety that they don't look at or even realize Hinata's anxiety. LITERALLY, THE ENTIRETY OF EP5 IS ABOUT HINATA'S ANXIETY AND PEOPLE PLEASING BEHAVIOR,,, WHY DOES NOBODY TALK ABOUT IT???? THE KEY SCENE LIKE 20 MINUTES IN??? (For ref, Daichi, Suga, and Kageyama are talking about Hinatas behavior, and Daichi imagines a scene: He hands Hinata the club room keys, Hinata says he'll take it, Daichi says, "I never told you where to keep it, so I brought it", and Hinata bows repeatedly saying he's sorry (about 6 times)) THAT IS NOT NORMAL!!! And then he's so worried about not doing well because he feels like he needs to make up for everything (his height, his lack of skill, his lack of experience on a team, the incident with Kageyama, etc), AHH HE LITERALLY SAYS, "This isn't like junior high...because I can be replaced! I don't want that. I don't want to be replaced. " BUT NOBODY CARES?? NOT ONE PERSON IN THIS FANDOM (THAT I HAVE SEEN) TALKS ABOUT ANY OF THIS!!! All I ever see is how Hinata has tons of friends and is so popular and is a people magnet, but does anybody ever think that he's probably anxious because those friends might get bored of him and find new friends?? That since Kenma has known Kuroo a lot longer and already doesn't really like people, he might just decide to stop talking to him?? Or that Kageyama might get bored of Hinata and stop hanging out with him outside of volleyball?? Or that Daichi and/or Coach Ukai will one day realize that he isn't really that special, and anyone can jump or run fast, so he gets replaced??? Literally I bet his WORST FEAR is being replaced and forgotten.
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maddy-ferguson · 1 year
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Is it just me or do some Bylers reach way too hard to defend Mike for things he was objectively wrong for? Like the rink o mania thing is a perfect example, Will was not being bitchy (onscreen) at all to Mike until the argument where Mike was the one who started it by blaming Will for not telling him about El’s problems. Mike was being a huge asshole there, which even he noticed and said Will didn’t deserve the way Mike treated him. He then apologized and Will accepted it because Will knows that Mike was genuinely remorseful and that he wanted to be best friends again. I hate to say this bc 99% of the time it is deeper than it looks but for this I just don’t get how you can watch and think Will was actually in the wrong.
i do enjoy a good reach and i get not wanting one character to be 100% in the right and one character to be 100% in the wrong in an argument and i don't even think mike was 100% in the wrong at rink o mania but when you back up a bit...what did will do wrong exactly lol.
do we agree with mike that he was a douche for...not telling him that el was being bullied? nonsensical. he didn't even know she was lying to him before the airport.
was he wrong for barely talking and basically sabotaging the whole day? a day el said was supposed to be about the two of them, making will third wheel and feel like shit just like in the beginning of season 3 and for months before that? right...because that makes sense.
was will in the wrong for not calling mike and for making it sound like it was his fault they didn't keep in touch? this one i can get behind but he would have let that go (the painting being a welcome gift doesn't scream resentful) had mike not made it clear that he wasn't interested in anything he had to say by...rejecting his hug, agreeing to the whole day being about him and el, ignoring him save for the vomit green joke, And not calling for months. if the first three hadn't occurred maybe will wouldn't have felt the need to defend himself when mike started a fight because he didn't tell him his gf was being bullied like he's their couples counselor or something
it's like you said mike literally starts the fight and then deflects (twice) and Then he apologizes...idk!
long-winded answer but how exactly was will being a dick lol. i know he apologizes for being mean to him and for pushing him away in the van scene but when exactly on march 22, 1986 was will mean to mike. i can see the pushing him away because he didn't call but he said he deserved the fight and admitted to being a jerk to el (literally HOW. when) and wouldn't let lucas apologize to him in season 3 so i'm not taking his self-deprecating martyr word for it SORRY
it's especially funny when you remember that mike trying to call will is a THEORY
#i know mike is self-deprecating too. this isn't about him💖#i know even byler being endgame is a theory but#and i GET IT like even if it turns out mike DIDN'T call he's not the devil or anything and i knoww why he acts like he does but when you#look at it from will's pov his behavior makes no fucking sense if he cares about him even a little. like why would he reject that hug lol#you could say him rejecting the hug was because he felt like they weren't friends anymore because will didn't call him and like sure but#then how is will not allowed to feel like they're not friends when mike doesn't call AND rejects his hug AND makes him third wheel all day#you can even say it was because he was like oh will gay can't make it obvious that i'm in love with him but that's just beyond the#realm of possibility to will. do you know what i mean? of course he's gonna think he doesn't care about him and doesn't even wanna hug him#hello after six months of not seeing him because he in fact didn't want to hug him. rejected the hug and made will feel like he was the#only one who wanted to be friends just like before#and really can you blame will for not calling when even without taking the fact that he's in love with mike into consideration the last#time he tried to show this friendship meant a lot to him he got shut down like crazy and was told that he was acting like a kid#i would've wanted mike to make a little bit of an effort too after that tf#and i know why he didn't call if he did in fact not call i know all that will isn't a tumblr byler he knows none of that not calling + not#hugging + agreeing to you not being important to the day + making you third wheel = not caring about you is not a crazy leap#if you wanna do the will isn't a perfect angel who is always 100% in the right thing (which i respect btw) i don't really see how#rink o mania helps your case I'M SORRY#you just will never convince me that it was 50/50#ask
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vcrnons · 9 months
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Top 5 favourite Vernon eras?
ask me my top five anything !
( @ikigaisvt asked me the same thing [ wondering about your top five vernon era 🤲-sammy <3 ] whehjgrghsdjg i love u guys. i am smushing these together just so i don't post the same thing twice <33 ) ( all of this is retroactive becauseee fml was my first svt cb so i wasn't around for any of these but i have consumed an ungodly amount of content so i can reasonably confidently make this decision )
FEAR.
home;run
don't wanna cry (look. blond vernon can just be so deeply personal, okay)
black eye
hot
#💌 - mailbox.#💌 - ask games.#❤️‍🔥 - moots.#hi rj<3#hi sammy<3#THIS WAS ACTUALLY WAY HARDER THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE.#ready to love era vernon is sooooo up there with all these. so is rock with you. if i could've said all of the eras. i would've.#fuck#whehgfdgf i am so very in love with him#nobody asked by dwc is especially personal bc i watched their killing voice VERY early on into listening to their music#i mean literally within the first like. week. lmao because i wanted to get a feel for their title tracks and bigger songs ig. but anyway#atp i had just barely gotten their names straight and i did not even nearly have their voices figured out yet.#so when they started dwc and i realised it was vernon singing that first part?? OOF. y'all i fucking WHIMPERED. OUT LOUD.#(ok so basically my bestie who is also a dolly introduced me to svt JUST as the black eye promos were dropping)#(and bc of that like. i knew vernon existed. i thought he was cute as hell and i knew he was a rapper and that he had a song coming out)#(but i didn't really know a lot about him beyond that? i was told he was in the hiphop team and thought 'neat. sounds like my type of guy')#so KV was the first time i was like oh FUCK this guy??? can SING???????? like S I N G?????? it felt like being hit with a slab of concrete#so then i ended up watching the mv eight thousand times and all of the live performances and descended into madness very very quickly#aaaaaaand there's a bunch of messily presented context for anyone who was interested lmao thank u for listening BYE<3
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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I am now curious what would alpha sukuna do when he get his rut but yuji simply won’t allow him to take control of his body? Sukuna as normal is feral and menace what about sukuna in his rut..but trapped.
Oh good lord. I'm having THOUGHTS.
Pairing: Alpha!Ryomen Sukuna x Omega Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, omegaverse, alpha/omega, rut, knotting, clit stimulation, mating bites, rough sex, feral sex, breeding kink, protective!Yuuji, best friend!Yuuji, alpha!Sukuna, double dick!Sukuna
Word count: 0.9k
A/N: Thinking about best friend Yuuji cockblocking Sukuna was hilarious.
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Yuuji was your best friend and an alpha. But he would never make a move on you, he didn't want to put your friendship at risk and even when you were in heat you knew you were safe around him. Lately though he's been a lot more... well... angry might be the best way to put it. He wasn't snapping at you, but at Sukuna, who would occasionally break free and rile you up just by staring at you before Yuuji could cage him back into his mind.
It seems that he's been losing that battle lately. Every time when Sukuna would kiss you or start to take your clothes off Yuuji would intervene and put a stop to it. As your friend he was only looking out for you, he knew what kind of alpha Sukuna was. Yet it was mildly annoying to and left you with an even worse ache between your legs.
He never made a move to help you out, knowing that was a friendship boundary he couldn't cross. But Sukuna could, he didn't even see you as a friend. To Sukuna you were just another omega in heat. When he finally broke free of Yuuji's hold, even just for a night he visited you immediately. He didn't want to waste time, knowing full well that it was borrowed.
Good thing you were already so wet, it made it easy to slide one of his cocks into your pussy and fuck you like you needed to be fucked. Sukuna was unlike any alpha you've been with, he was beyond animalistic, beyond feral from being kept caged for so long. The years without a vessel, and now held back by it.
You could hear Sukuna talking, but it wasn't you he was talking to, you were just the one he was fucking. "Thought you could keep me from my pretty omega huh brat? Come on, you should have known better. She wanted me from the moment she saw me." Sukuna grinned down at you and pulled your body taunt by your wrists, keeping you pressed against him while his cock pistoned in and out of your clenching pussy. "Keep complaining all you want, we both know what she really wants."
"Sukuna, I-" All breath was knocked out of your lungs when he rushed to bite your neck. It wasn't hard enough to put a real mark there but for a split second you thought he might. "Yes." You told him even before he asked.
"Heh, told you so. She wants it. Don't you pretty girl? Are you gonna let me knot your cunt?" You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice. "Fuck. I can't do it if you're so tight. But I like the challenge, I'll fuck my knot into you, even if I have to break you in the process."
His threat made a flood of wetness coat his cock. You were already half-way gone for him.
Sukuna pushed his second cock across your clit, "Told you she wants it. She wants my cock, my knot, she wants to be... mine. Don't like that huh Yuuji? This pretty omega sure does. I can tell she wants it. Look at how much she wants me to breed her full of my seed."
You almost didn't want to look at him in the eye, ashamed for how Yuuji would react when he returned to his body. But Sukuna wasn't gonna let you get away with that act. He smiled at you as you hissed in pain when his third hand gripped into your hair and his fourth grabbed your chin, making it impossible not to look into his eyes.
His hips pushed flush against yours, your moans encouraging him to ram his thick cock into you, carving the shape of it into your inner walls. "You're taking it so well. An omega bitch in heat, made just for my cock." With his fast paced thrusts also came the equally fast smacks of his second cock against your sensitive clit, making your hips jerk upwards.
The spicy aggressive scent of him was driving you mad. Just the fact that his own rut got triggered by being around you when you were in heat made your cunt spasm around his cock, adding to the slippery wetness, making it easy for his knot to slip inside you. "Your knot, god..."
"Hurts?" He asked with equal parts worry and smugness.
"It's big but it feels good. I want your cum too! Please Sukuna, come inside me." The previous sense of shame you felt was gone when you felt the knot on his second cock brushing against your cunt. You couldn't take two at once but that didn't mean he couldn't switch. "I want the other one too."
"Do you? Naughty little omega. Let's see how you handle one first. Are you ready for me to give you my cum?" You nodded and let your cunt spasm around him, clamping down around his cock, your toes curling and voice on the verge of giving out as his thrusts turned short and quick. His cum splashed inside of you, safely locked inside by his knot. "Don't you dare bite my neck." He could feel your teeth grazing him. You whimpered in protest, and he seemingly had mercy.
But it wasn't his neck, it was his hand that met your teeth. Enough for now.
"So needy." He laughed at you as he pulled his hand away and kissed the bite mark you left behind. "My knots take a bit of extra time so you enjoy it while you can. As soon as it goes down I'm putting the next one into you. I'm gonna make sure to knock you up tonight." He looked behind him while snickering, and you could almost hear Yuuji's voice, cursing at him.
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thef1diary · 3 months
Text
Little Big Fan | Two
— Little Big Flight
Read part one here
Series Masterlist
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Note: Max isn’t a major part of this chapter.
wc: 1.7k
Isabella hadn't stopped talking about Max since the day the two of you met him—in the grocery store of all places.
Her excitement was beyond imaginable, and that says a lot coming from you, a mother of a six year old that should be familiar with her big imagination.
As promised, Max had contacted you for the details later that day, surprising you with flight tickets and hotel already booked. You called him as soon as you saw the message, and gave him a little earful about doing too much for two strangers.
His response, "we don't have to be strangers anymore."
The harder part however, was explaining to Isabella's father, Tyler, that you were gifted a paddock pass for yourself and your daughter. Unfortunately, the race weekend was during your ex's days to keep Isabella, so you had to tell him about the plans.
While he might've been an okay father, he wasn't the best partner. Which is why when you told him, he laughed, not believing you for a second. That is, until you showed him the flight ticket to the Netherlands, where the next race was held.
You didn't have to tell him that you met Max, your daughter already did because she couldn't contain her excitement.
You spoke to him when you were standing by the door to his house when dropping Isabella off during your week so Tyler would still able to spend time with her before you leave. When he attempted to playfully ask why he wasn't invited to the race, Isabella shrugged but you knew he was actually asking you.
"You're flying out for work, it wouldn't have been possible." You didn't tell him that Max never offered, that secret was yours to keep.
The conversation didn't last long, since a woman you hadn't met, came and stood behind Tyler. Now you usually didn't care about who comes and goes in his house, but it mattered when your daughter was there. Fortunately, the woman was leaving so you didn't have to bring up the topic. A so-called rule he created when the two of you separated.
"Alright angel, I'll see you in a few days," you crouched down and kissed Isabella's forehead. Wrapping her arms around you, she whispered in your ear, "I love you, mama."
"I love you too, angel. Have fun here yeah?" Watching her nod, Tyler sent her inside and remained standing at the door to speak to you.
"I should get going," you told him and turned to leave, but he called your name to stop you. "Thank you for sending her over this week."
"Yeah, no worries." While you were fine with keeping things formal between you and Tyler, you didn't really want to spend any extra time with him without Isabella.
Truthfully, you were still in contact with him because of Isabella as she deserved to grow up around both parents and so far, it was going well.
As soon as you sat in your car, you received a text from a newly familiar person, Max. A small smile grew on your face at the thought of him. While he might've asked for your number to send the pass details, there were a few unrelated texts that were sent as well.
Whether it was just asking about your day, or how Isabella is doing, it made your days a little sweeter knowing that he genuinely wanted to know.
Even in his latest text, he was asking about your day. You responded, telling him about dropping off Isabella at Tyler's, mentioning how much you'll miss her over the next few days. Then, you drove off, dreading to think of ways to spend time without your little one.
You had a lot of free time on your hands during the week that Isabella was at Tyler's house. Even after checking off every errand you had to complete, you decided to do some research about the sport. It was a lot of information to take in and all you remember, is that you would miss the practices, but would be able to watch qualifying and the actual race.
It was now Friday, ten days later, and you were boarding a flight to the Netherlands with Isabella to watch your daughter's favourite driver race.
You were quite nervous to take Isabella on a flight, as it would be the second time. The first time was four years ago, and that too was necessary at the time or else you wouldn't have taken a two year-old Isabella on the plane.
However, Isabella wouldn’t have remembered many details from that flight, so it could also be considered her first.
Truth is, you didn't travel much after giving birth to your beautiful daughter, so you kept glancing at her to ensure she was okay during the boarding process.
While Isabella was still very excited to visit a new country, you could tell that she became slightly nervous as she sat down, all buckled in her assigned seat beside yours in anticipation for takeoff.
She was looking out the window, taking in the beauty of the early morning hours. That was, until she noticed the plane beginning to move.
"Mama," she exclaimed a little loudly, immediately finding your hand and grasping on to it tightly. "It's okay, Bella, we're flying to see Max right? Are you excited?" You asked, knowing the answer to the question very well but it was just a little way to distract her. As expected, she nodded eagerly, rambling on about everything she learned about Formula 1 with her daddy.
Clutching on to her favourite teddy bear, that she's had since birth, with one hand and the other still holding on to yours, she closed her eyes tightly once the plane picked up speed on the runway. You ran your free hand through her hair, whispering words and asking questions to distract her until the plane was stably in the air.
Fortunately, it was a seven hour flight which wasn't excessively long and wouldn't cause any additional stress on how to keep Isabella entertained.
Having downloaded the movie Cars on an iPad, you were able to keep her busy for two out of seven hours. She was happily watching, forgetting the fact that they were many miles up in air. Despite the fact that Isabella has watched this movie one too many times, it was still her favourite.
Especially after watching Formula 1, she quickly considered Charles Leclerc as Lightning McQueen when she first saw him in the red car on track. Even if Max was her favourite driver, she would speak of the Ferrari driver almost as often.
Fortunately, there was a tad bit of more privacy considering you and Isabella were seated in first class. The credit for that could be given to Max. When you asked him why first class was necessary, he responded with, "you two are my guests for the race, and my guests always need to have one of the best flight experiences."
Although, he didn't mention why it was one of the best and not the best. He held back on the fact that the best experience would be in his private plane. Perhaps one day, you and Isabella would travel with him and he would be able to share the experience. Which he believes would be a whole lot better than flying with his usual team.
The only time Isabella tightly clutched on to your hand, was during takeoff, landing, and some mild turbulence. Other than that, she had a lot of fun constantly finding a way to speak to the flight attendant.
She considered the flight attendant her friend, mainly because she kept bringing Isabella snacks to pass the time. Since Isabella stayed awake during the majority of the flight, she was close to falling asleep near the end.
After the events in the grocery store, you ensured to never leave Isabella's hand in a public place even after she assured you that she wouldn't run away. So, throughout the process of getting your small suitcase, Isabella was standing right beside you, holding your hand.
"Is Maxy gonna pick us up?" Isabella asked as you walked towards the exit. You shook your head, "no, angel, he's busy."
Dejected, Isabella pouted and you had to keep yourself from chuckling at her antics. "We'll see him tomorrow, just one more night," you reassured and the pout was replaced with a smile. If she could wait over a year for Tyler's promise that was never fulfilled, she could wait one more night until it is fulfilled by you.. and Max.
After a thirty minute drive from the airport to the hotel, you were able to get off your feet and relax. While Isabella was fascinated by the view from your hotel room, you picked up your phone and sent Max a text stating that you and Isabella safely arrived as per his request.
Usually, you'd get that request from your mother, as she always needed a text or a call to ensure your safety, especially whenever you were out with Isabella.
As expected, you had an unread message from your mother asking the same. "Bella, come here," you called out and heard patters of her small feet running towards you.
"Are we sending nanna a picture?" She asked, already knowing what was going on and you laughed, nodding.
You snapped a photo of her blowing a kiss to the camera and sent it to your mother. Two minutes passed before you got a response from her, "cutest as always but what about my little girl?"
Opening the camera again, you took a snapped a photo of yourself, holding your thumbs up playfully and sent it to her. "Your little girl is perfectly safe too"
Dropping your phone on the bed, you called Isabella’s name, “I’m gonna catch you!” You playfully chased your daughter, easily picking her up, as there wasn’t a lot of space to run, and attacking her with kisses and tickles.
Your phone buzzed with a text, “beautiful”
You had accidentally sent your photo to Max after it was sent to your mother, who was supposed to be the only recipient.
Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @158cmx @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
Hey did you get my ask/request of Alastor and Wife!reader having an argument and Alastor says something horrible to her leaving him to have to make up for it?
I did, I just have a lot of stuff in my inbox
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Alastor being in the DOGHOUSE
Description: ☝️⬆️
Alastor doesn't mind fighting, likes to bicker with and irritate those around him as some strange show of dominance
But his wife is an exception, he hates fighting with his wife and goes to great lengths to avoid it
Despite his efforts, you two do still fight from time to time and he hates it, he tries so hard to reign in that cruel part of him
He doesn't really even remember what started the fight, probably something dangerous he did that upset you
Something like the Adam stunt
And he probably tried to brush it off, his pride not letting him admit that your fears were warranted
You were understandably getting worked up over his dismissal, and he was getting irritated that you wouldn't just drop it
Everyone else in the hotel had scattered and hidden the moment you two started to uncharacteristically raise your voices at each other
Angel had to grab Niffy to stop her from watching the entire argument play out
He just doesn't want to scare you with the idea of losing him, he wants to be your strong, invincible husband
It makes him uncomfortable that you see beyond the powerful overlord demon and instead zero in on the man beneath it all
"Darling, I would understand your fears if I hadn't come back to you in one piece, but I'm here. With you. Perfectly fine."
You could rip your hair out due to frustration, almost in tears, how could he not understand how you felt?
"Alastor! That's not the point! You can't be so reckless! It's not just you that you have to worry about anymore! You have a wife! You have to live and be safe for me!"
He fears a pang of anger over being told what to do, rage and irritation over the unintentional reminder of his failure to win
Which makes his mind wander to his deal, his fucking leash
The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes what he's saying
"If I knew that everything I do had to be approved by you then, I would've rethought this whole marriage ordeal."
Alastor regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, his ears folding back at the sight of your hurt expression
Your eyes have tears in them but you're doing your best to hold them in, turning on your heel to leave the room
"Wait-Darling, I didn't-"
"Just...give me some space, Alastor."
He regrets it so much, watching you walk away from him when he should be begging for forgiveness
He hates seeing you so upset but he hates being the reason for it even more
Alastor tries to give you the space you asked for, but it's difficult when all he wants to do is make up with you already
But he also doesn't want to actually talk about what happened
So he breaks fairly easily when he sees you again, coming up behind you and hugging you
Only to be shrugged off when he goes for a small kiss, left with a sinking feeling in his stomach
"I said to give me space, I'm not ready to talk to you yet."
Normally, Alastor loves it when you're cruel and cold, finds it a little hot, but when it's aimed at him? He hates it so fucking much
Literally looks like a kicked puppy when you walk away from him again, Charlie and Vaggie looking at anything but him
"You know what, Charlie? I do see that crack in the wall!"
He tries again later, sitting next to you and trying to wrap an arm around your shoulders while the radio bursts to life with a love song
Only to be rewarded with an ill hidden sniffle and you immediately getting up to walk away from him
"If you're not going to apologize and have a genuine conversation with me then don't even bother."
It's driving Alastor crazy not being able to be with you, to not be able to properly make up with you
But he still doesn't want to admit he messed up or have that uncomfortable conversation with you
So he tries lavish gifts and other romantic gestures that all get rejected or given to Niffty to do whatever she wants with them
"Yay!! I'm going to poison these and give them to the mother bugs!!"
Okay...maybe Angel should have these...
Alastor is starting to understand that he can't just gloss over this one
He understands it a little more later that night when you go to bed without him, and he's left too nervous to follow after you
Several hours into the night, the guilt eats at him and he breaks, sneaking into the bedroom
You're awake, your eyes red rimmed from crying but you manage to give him a glare before turning your back to him
"Darling, I believe I owe you an apology..."
The way your tense body relaxes is all he needs, crawling into bed with you and pulling you to his chest
It's a difficult pill for him to swallow, so it's easier for him to have these conversations with you like this
He doesn't want you to see his weakness even when he's laying it out for you
Luckily, Alastor is good with his words and you're willing to listen now that an apology is on the table
It's a long conversation that leaves you both sleepless and emotional in each other's arms
But things are settled and Alastor is forgiven, happy to be back in your good graces
He tried to be strong and hold himself back, he really did... but being without the warmth of your love was torture for him
It was a rough couple of hours for him
HA WHIPPED
"Angel, shut the fuck up before you get yourself killed!"
He's extra clingy and romantic with you for DAYS afterwards, making everyone else at the hotel practically nauseous
Except for Charlie, of course, she loves it
He's just so relieved that you've forgiven him, still disgusted with himself for even saying what he said
Asks you for yet another kiss that morning before Husk finally walks away, annoyed by Alastor's neediness
You don't mind your husband's clingy antics, enjoying the extra attention he's giving you
You should get mad at him more often
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slvtforfiction · 5 months
Note
Jake Webber smut where he tells you to sit on his face. That would be soooo hot
“Sit,don’t hover.”
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☆ Omg anon,ur amazing
☆ Lots of love
☆ Jake Webber X Reader
☆ Pandemic times!
☆ Smut
☆ Masterlist
☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (if requests are open.)
☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)
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"Fine, no orgasms and no sex for a week." He told me.
"Does that include masturbating?" I asked him with an innocent smile.
"Yes,Y/n." He snapped back.
Now how did we get here?
Well...
The break down of it being I was being a brat, which then led to him on top of me pinning me down before that sentence left his mouth.
Easy challenge,he will give up so easily, he loves it as much as I do and he won't last 3 days.
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Day 1;
We still cuddled up to each other last night but other than that nothing,I gave him 2 days more and he will for sure break.
Day 2;
I barely saw him at all today,he had something to do with Johnnie but I thought when he got home he would have broken that pact,turns out I was wrong.
I'm sticking with my initial impression with 24hours left though.I'm struggling and he seems to be just fine.
It’s killing me to see how easy he thinks this is when I’m beyond tempted to pull a vibrator out of my drawer.
Day 3;
This is killing me,I thought he would have given up, but he hasn't,he hasn't even mentioned it and it's driving me insane.
I can't give up though,l bragged about it to him all day after his said that saying that I would last so much more than him.
Im as stubborn as he is and he knows it.
Day 4;
I'm fucked,he keeps grabbing my thighs and I'm melting,he knows it.
I didn't think he'd last this long,sometimes I can hear him in the kitchen talking to Colby about the challenge and how easy it is.
Day 5;
2 days left and I think Jake will break,he was talking to Colby earlier about how hard it was for him,metaphorically and physically.
Turn of events from yesterday then,I thought to myself with a smile.
He got hard last night,I felt him pressing into me I hoped he was giving up,but nope.
Day 6;
I give up.
He pressed his back into me,his hard on pressing into my ass.
He grabbed something from the cupboard above me in the kitchen and then moved away from me trying to palm himself from the painful boner he wasn't trying particularly hard to hide.
Maybe I won't have to give up?
Maybe he will.
I can only hope.
"Mh how about you fuck me? I know you have a hard on."I told him teasingly.
"You know I can't." He told me continuing to cook.
"Well how about you give up the challenge? You don't want blue balls." I told him with a sly grin forming.
"Fuck off Y/n." He told me angrily.
I smiled and walked away to the sofa reading a book that Kat had gave me for Christmas.
During the Pandemic,christmas wasn't a great time for everyone,very scary at the least.
I heard the oven being switched off but I didn't dare to turn around,so I kept my head buried in my book.
"Stop fucking reading that book and give up the challenge." Jake said into my ear from behind me clearly wanting to fuck.
"Mh,I don't think I will." I told him with a smile slapped across my face before returning to my book.
"You want this as bad as me,I know you do Y/n,I heard you talking to Kat." He told me.
Now I can't lie I did talk to Kat about how I was struggling but I didn't realise Jake was listening behind us.
"And I heard you talking to Colbs,not to mention how you've pressed 2 hard ons into my back side just begging for my attention." I smiled back at him dragging out the 'begging' and turning around to look at him leaving my book on the coffee table.
I hummed at his response of gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.
God he looks beautiful.
I snapped out of it before kissing his Addams apple.
"Hm I'll give up if I can top?" I hummed looking at him. "No,Y/n,Just give up now." He snapped getting extremely sexually frustrated.
I hummed at his response as if saying no and then walked off to the bedroom.
He followed behind me and sat on the bed before I could. “I give up,sit on my face.” He said.
And I smiled turning around,more of a nervous smile to be honest. “What?” I asked unsure if I heard him correctly.
“You heard me,strip and sit.” He told me and I smiled,turning around as I took off my leggings and panties,walking over to the bed where he lied.
I sat on top of the prominent imprint on his trousers,moving my hips around as I smiled at him teasingly.
“Do you give up the challenge?” I asked him,grinding and grinning on top of him. “Yes,for fucks sake,stop being a brat.” He said and with that he lifted my body above him and sat me down on his face.
I lifted myself off slightly not wanting to suffocate him “Sit,don’t hover.” He told me,his voice sending shivers down my spine as the vibrations hit my pussy.
I sat down as he immediately started to lap at my clit. I moaned out of pleasure,my pent up sexual tension leaving my body as I relaxed.
He slipped his tongue in and out of my hole,my body feeling as if I was in heaven.
I relaxed further as he pumped his tongue in and out,his hands holding up my hips as I let him take full control.
“Jake please!” I all but screamed as I felt the knot in my stomach tighten,knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop it from snapping soon enough.
“Cum for me love.” He told me as I came on his face,riding through my high on his tongue.
“Jake please,too much.” I whimpered out as he continued his movements.He flipped me over,his head resting between my thighs as he continued.
I grabbed a hold of his hair,pulling him further into me and simultaneously pushing him away.
I came undone on his tongue again,riding through my high on his face as he let me down gently.
He kissed my thighs as I whined out,the subspace staying engraved into my mind.
He walked into the bathroom to grab a wet cloth to wash his face and clean up my thighs.
He tried his best to gently clean me up,apologising whenever he hit an especially sensitive area.
He laid down next to me,pulling me into his chest and taking his hands through my hair.
“You lost.” I laughed weakly at him as I smiled up at his looking into his eyes.
“Yeah but I’ve won the most beautiful girlfriend in the world.” He told me as he held my head close to him,pulling the covers up with his other hand.
“Go to sleep princess,you deserve it.” He said with a smile,I knew I would make it up to him in the morning I thought as I drifted off.
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wonwoonlight · 5 months
Text
take a chance / jeon wonwoo
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Wonwoo x Reader // 1.7k words // nothing but fluff lol they're idiots
a/n: if you cant tell im absolutely insane abt this wonwoo. 100000% self indulgent and 100% not proofread as always ehe <3 v lowkey inspired also by niki - take a chance with me
He drives me crazy, it's so beyond me
How he'd look at me dead in the eye and stay unaware
Niki - Take A Chance with Me
[☆]
Wonwoo has never really been interested in romance.
When he was six and his friends started talking about girls were icky, he couldn't have cared enough to even think about girls in particular.
When he was fourteen and his close cousin who was practically his big brother told him about his first girlfriend, Wonwoo had simply nodded and congratulated him because the older guy looked like he was waiting for it even though he didn't get what's there to congratulate.
When he was seventeen and another cousin got married, he thought a little about what it'd be like to commit yourself for the rest of your life to another person.
Anyhow, now he's twenty seven and still pretty much free from the dating experience.
He just simply couldn't be bothered to try nor was he even curious enough to try.
There's too much risk. Too much things to do. Too many factors to think about. It's too complicated and Wonwoo has never been a fan of complicated.
Sure, the older he gets the more he understands about the attraction and whatnot. But the few dates that he has been on (which he could count with his two hands) was entirely due to his friends setting up with someone and his inability to say no the second time even though he did reject their so-called-help the first time around.
They eventually get the hint and stop setting Wonwoo up on a blind date.
He never sees romance as a necessity and he doesn't feel the need to have a partner, what is there more to say?
“I lost the floor 12 Abyss again.” You pout, half tempted to throw away the joystick in your hands. “I'm never playing this game again, I'm telling you.”
Wonwoo chuckles and tells you to move as he slides next to you, taking the joystick away and getting ready to restart your game.
“You just suck at this.” He teases, not minding your glare because he's way too used to it at this point. “And you say that everytime but here you are, still playing.”
“Shut up.” You pout, both impressed and unimpressed at the way he easily goes through the stages.
“Done.” He grins, all nine shining stars looking back at you.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don't.”
“I do!” You take back the joystick from him and close the window. “You don't even play this game! This is bullshit!”
He laughs under his breath and ruffles your hair, saying something about how he can't help being good at it.
You like that side of Wonwoo, as you often tell him, because people have always said that Wonwoo is quiet–that he doesn't talk a lot and it could be awkward being left alone with him.
And whilst it's not entirely untrue and you've been there too, you also know that Wonwoo is much more than his lack of words.
Wonwoo talks a lot once he's comfortable. You just need to be very patient and understanding about his silence before he gets there.
You… have been plenty patient, amongst other things.
You're patient enough to get where you are even though you've never imagined you'd get here.
Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to be comfortable with you that he doesn't mind inviting you over to his place with no other companies.
Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to not mind the fact that you like him and not act weird about it.
Here, meaning being close with Wonwoo despite the fact that you've confessed to him about your feelings but you're still here in his place, right next to him with not a single air of awkwardness between you two.
Turning off the Playstation, you settle on Wonwoo's sofa and decide to scroll through Instagram instead. You sigh, catching his attention, and when he asks you what's wrong, you simply shake your head no.
“What are you sighing about this time?”
This is something that people don't know about Wonwoo either: he prods when it comes to people he cares about.
Granted, he does it exactly three times to see if the other party would relent by then. He does that because that's how he is, he once tells you, because he rarely opens up at the first question but eventually cracks on the third time. That, by the third question, he's already had enough time to consider whether or not he really wants to talk about it.
“Nothing important.” You try to reassure him. “Just silly stuff.”
Wonwoo looks at you pointedly, but you simply smile and turn back to your phone, which he supposes means you don't feel like bringing it up just yet.
He closes his book and puts it on the coffee table, leaning closer to you to see what you're up to.
You wonder if Wonwoo knows what his action means to your poor, poor heart. If he's aware that, as much you said you're cool despite your confession, you still have romantic attractions towards him and confessing doesn't mean you're no longer affected by anything and everything he does.
After watching you go through your phone for a bit, it is quite easy for Wonwoo to realize what might be the core of your problem.
“You're thinking about why you're single again, aren't you?”
Your fingers freeze and so does your entire body, and Wonwoo would've laughed at how surprised you look right now, but he knows you're actually bothered by this problem from time to time though he doesn't exactly understand why.
And for someone who's observative and quite sensitive when it comes to things around him, Wonwoo can be a bit dense, still.
On what kind of universe does he think this topic would be okay to talk about with someone who literally confessed to you and somewhat got rejected though not explicitly?
“I don't want to talk about it.” You whine despite the fast beating of your heart. You honestly don't think you have it in you to talk about this with Wonwoo. At least not just yet.
“Why?”
You look at him, incredulous. “You know why.”
“Because you like me?”
You shrug, not wanting to deny it.
“Can I ask you something?” He asks, voice very gentle and careful.
“What?”
“I'm sorry if this sounds insensitive.” You press your lips together as he starts. At least, he has the conscience to know that. “But… what is it about being in a relationship that appeals so much to you?”
You pause before you answer, wondering what to say. “Do you want me to actually answer that?”
“If you don't mind answering.”
Wonwoo wonders if he makes you uncomfortable by asking such question. But if there's anyone he can ask about this, it can only be you. No one else would answer it in a way that he would understand. No one else would give him the sincerity that you'd give in your answer.
He feels bad knowing you like him and still asking you like this. But he supposes you're both close enough for that discussion, that he doesn't want to let your feelings get in the way of your precious friendship.
Perhaps he's selfish, but he doesn't want to be too conscious when it comes to your relationship with him despite everything.
“I guess it's just the fact that someone's always there for you.” You start, not looking at him even though his gaze is locked at you. “That there's this person who… you can tell everything to, from your secrets to what you feel like eating today. That when you want to do something, you can always run to them first before wondering if anyone else is available. That–”
“But that's already how we are?” He cuts you off.
You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering if it's some kind of prank even though you know he's not that kind of person.
“That's already what I do with you.” He says one more time–more firm and somewhat determined with a hint of confusion. “Why do you think you're in my place so often?”
“I… I– I don't know? You're… bored? And I happen to be free?” You stutter a little, not used to the way he's staring at you.
“I am bored.” He agrees, things suddenly crystal clear in his eyes. “But I'm bored because I don't have you around. And I want you here. That's why I asked all the time if you're available.”
You open your lips to say something–anything, but nothing comes out because your heartbeat is ringing throughout your body right up to your ears.
“You're the only person I send those posts about places I want to visit because I want to visit with you. I don't send them to anyone else. I don't even like going out all that much.”
“I… I don't understand?”
“Are we in a relationship?” He asks rather bluntly, mixing all your feelings together with one single question.
“Wonwoo, I don't think this is how you should go around it–”
“Have we been dating all this time?” He asks one more time, not even seemingly nervous about it.
He looks at you like he's expecting an answer, but how are you supposed to answer that? You've simply been happy that you get to spend time with him. You didn't think for one second that he might be into you despite all the time he asks you to accompany him somewhere and all the time you're alone in his place.
“I've been too oblivious, haven't I?” He concludes by himself, your silence doesn't deter him at all.
He reaches for your cheek, and if he notices how warm your face is, he doesn't mention it. But he caresses the apple of your cheek as he looks at you with the gentlest reflection you've ever seen in his eyes.
“I'm sorry it took me too long.” He whispers, and you bite your lip so hard to hide your smile because you don't want to be too happy before anything's decided. You're not sure what he's trying to say, your head is spinning with thoughts and your heart is beating at an erratic rhythm. “Do you mind… letting me learn a bit more?”
“About what?” You whisper back.
“Being a good boyfriend?” He smiles when you do too, feeling warmth all over his chest at how shy you seem to be. “You know I've never done this before, right? Let me take a chance with you?
You finally let yourself grin at this, no longer able to control the happiness blooming within you at whatever this might mean.
And as you lean your face more into his palm, Wonwoo thinks he's ready to take all the risks that might come together with whatever the future has in store as long as he has you by his side.
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anantaru · 6 months
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DAY 30 — hate sex
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — wriothesley, ayato, scaramouche, alhaitham
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, hate fucking, mild choking, they're assholes, exhibitionism, fingering, lots of teasing & they're meanies
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𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY
"i don't, fuck— even know if i told you this," you whine out through a clenched jaw, your trembling frame luxuriating in the feeling of wriothesley's thick cock rubbing against your spongy spots as the spreading warmth of his body fuses inside of your own.
nevertheless, you continue your taunting— truthfully, there was nothing better other than uttering out words that you knew, would drive him absolutely crazy, "but i really fucking hate you."
amusement swiftly settles on the duke's face when he notices something happening in front of his eyes, in spite of himself, he can see it plain as day.
that your sweet, angel face, combined with those lewd sounds and your pain in the ass, as well as bratty attitude, would ultimately make him lose his mind beyond salivation— right now, his face reminded of someone who was on the brink of leaning into this, the thought of stepping your relationship up and breaking free of this, occasional hook up scene between two people clearly harboring distaste for each other.
yet, instead of melting into those hidden emotions, wriothesley then, leaves one hand to fall against the headboard before jerking his hips back into you, this time much harder and in attempt to conceal the fact that you've evidently turned him on with your attitude, fuck, he'd never get tired of hearing you.
"oh, don't worry sweetheart," wriothesley grins, your body trembling when you hear him, and as always, he senses how you shiver under his large weight, your chest rising and falling when he wraps one hand around your throat, lightly, while the other remained on the headboard to steady himself and to not suddenly suffocate you with his figure.
"the feeling is very mutual," he winks, the only thing that seemed appropriate to you personally in this situation, was to punch him, especially due to that stupid, handsome, dumb smirk on his face. (you didn't punch him)
"oh fuck you," you spat angrily before feeling how he softly draws his fingers into your throat, mesmerized when you swallow the assembled saliva down and make him sense your pulse underneath his palm, ugh, it's so hot— and you're impossibly sensitive, constantly fluttering your hole around his girth, always so cutely reactive and moaning when his cock twitches through your walls.
your mess of a body was shaking, quivering and jerking up when he teases you once more, proudly showcasing his strength on your throat while never stopping the aching drags of his erection that was making your face twist in pleasure.
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𖧡 — AYATO
ayato thinks you owe him, in fact, he believes you owe him a lot more than you're currently giving him— aside from that, the most unfortunate fact was that he secretly liked having you close to him, pretending that it's a way of paying him back for whatever reason, more so share your sweet company and yes, of course, it's a bit of a predicament taking into consideration that he literally cannot stand your guts and neither can you force yourself to like his.
it's a bit embarrassing and you're barely being able to grasp on how much you you were capable to hate another person, yet the second you hear his voice, it's a horrible sound, one that you eagerly wanted to choke right out of him.
well, if only ayato wouldn't be so adapt with your body— remembering every part of you, didn't matter to him if it's been a week or a month, he remembers and targets the spots he knew had to be taken care of.
because the yashiro commissioner knows how to fuck you, please you and make you sob out uncontrollably— you have clearly had the opportunity to experience it yourself and even now, while pressed down against his work desk, with both legs tightly shut around his waist, you almost forget about all the deep-rooted hatred that was growing inside of your heart.
every dip and curve, his hand would find when he drags his cock through your walls with each whimper of his name littering across his ear shells, his sensitive tip repeatedly pushing in and out of your soaked walls that the constant pressure of penetration was making your head spin, your shaking frame twitching under him as he curves ever so wonderfully into your warm cunt.
it's too good, too delicious to pass up on when you forget all circumstances and focus on the hate induced thrusts of his pelvis rutting against yours— both minds being drunk of lust and that sensual taste of sex and euphoria lingering across the room, your pussy convulsing as his lips melt against your own, shushing all your worries.
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𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE
"look at that," scaramouche grinned down on you, excited from head to toe, his ego downright overflowing when his tip pushes and presses into your warm, pulsing spots as he stares down on where your bodies connected.
his cock was slipping in an embarrassingly easy pace that it's quite shameful now that you think back on it, well, almost— at least scaramouche knew what places to target in order to make your spine curve and quiver when he leans his weight over your body to split your cunt a little better as he bucks backward, driving the intruding force of his length deeper with one hand steady on your shoulder.
you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a warm, passionate kiss before he sloppily groans into your mouth, his tongue lapping across your own when repeated thrusts power through the tight ring of your hole, his pelvis continuously kicking against you and forcing your spine to bend into his chest, "hah, i can barely move," he smirks, "you're too tight— embarrassing," he drawls, your walls fluttering as he leans his sweaty forehead over your own.
"seems like you missed me," scaramouche urges, hovering on top of you with a toothy smile, despite that leaning in for more, his fastened breathing close to your flustered cheeks as he grinds his cock deeper, finer and better— a small, little shade of pink manifesting across his face, everything about it was so sensual, so exposed.
without a doubt, whenever you would cross paths it would always end in the same story playing on repeat, almost like a broken record— and despite the fact that you weren't fond of him, or, scrap that, despite the fact that you hated him, a lot, you did like it, like him, kind of— most definitely when he fucks you like he hates you, because he does, but kisses you like you're in possession of the most delicious and softest lips.
or, digging a little deeper, when he, sometimes, wraps his arm around your waist when he accidentally falls asleep right beside you, hiding his fatigued face against your neck, leaning into your touch as he intertwines one hand with yours to stroke his thumb over your knuckles.
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𖧡 — ALHAITHAM
it's a hard punch in your gut when alhaitham first stated that he didn't like you, nope, wasn't a fan of yours at all— and the way he phrased it infuriated you the most, it was so arrogant, detached and almost like he wanted you to know and feel bad.
it's not like you were forcing him to like you or anything, but the fact that he thought it was appropriate to tell you out of the blue while disregarding any negative emotions such confession could cause— to say it made you loathe him, detest his being with every vein in your body, was an understatement, truly.
but now, suddenly it's anomalous, like the first bite out of a warm home-made pastry you have never tried before.
then, a sudden wave of pleasure hits you, strong enough that you whimper when he first places both hands on your figure, when you find yourself pressed against a cold wall, a new sensation that was laced in thrill and excitement lusting up from deep inside, aflame and alive through your flesh like liquid fire in your veins.
your bodies were moving while concealed beneath the darkness with the scribe's hand long since stored under your panties and rubbing slow, precise circles on your clit— and the thought of doing something so sinful in the midst of the night, not to mention outside, was almost enough to turn you on entirely, drench his palm with your slick when the boiling heat inside of you changes its shape, manifesting into something exceptional.
"that— that doesn't change anything!" you argue, scowling as you lean your head against his chest, "you're still a snob."
"huh, what?" alhaitham huffs in between a relatively normal breathing, as if he didn't just fuck two fingers into your hole and was the single reason for your legs turning to jelly, wantonly destroying your stability, "i think you don't know what that word means," he mutters before rolling his eyes at you.
archons, you're so annoying, alhaitham could honestly tell you those exact words over and over again until he'd get a headache— and it fucks him up, you do, you never fail to irritate him but also make him intrigued. ugh, it fucks him up so dearly and you destroy his rational thoughts, he wanted to do nothing more other than distance himself from you if only you wouldn't be so damn addicting, and soft, or reactive when he prods one finger against your hole.
awakening at the touch, your desire for him flares anew as you buck your hips forward, driving his finger deeper, his digit spilling right into you when you greet him with a broken cry, your hips rolling and needful for more— alhaitham's eyes never averting their gaze from you, your hips searching and clinging on his body, a slight tremble reaching your spine when you hold your gaze on him, all now feeling in different way.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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buggachat · 6 months
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seeing a lot of talk of the season 5 finale, which is fun, i get that it was controversial (honestly the fact it was really risky is kind of one of the things i like about it lol) and wanting to add my two cents but can't think of much i haven't already said before
but something i do want to emphasize is that season 5 ending on Marinette telling the biggest, boldest faced lie she's ever told (that goes far beyond "protecting her identity") to kick off the Lila arc is by far the coolest thing they could've done imo, because I was not at all excited for the Lila arc before but now I'm totally invested. Now Lila isn't the Evil Liar to be taken down by Good Marinette. Marinette is the liar to be taken down by the very liar that she took down. It's not a story of "defeat that freakishly evil girl" anymore, but instead a story of "Marinette's own actions and decisions coming back to bite her". And the lie itself (WHICH LILA KNOWS IS A LIE!!) only exists because, and is most impactful towards, her relationship with Adrien, which is the core of the series!! I CARE about their relationship, and that's the stakes!!!
I just cannot get over how cool that is, and how much I didn't expect it. I know we all were expecting a big fight with Ladybug and Chat Noir just defeating Gabriel and then watching Chat Noir cry or whatever in the few remaining minutes of screen-time and then it's all over and done with, but that's a series finale. This was a season finale. And they did something really unique and unexpected with it, while making sure it's a juicy season-finale conflict that leaves me actually excited about season 6
also, a side note— I think the framing of the finale made this confusing so I totally get why discussions about it are kind of all over the place, but... 90% of the post-wish stuff we saw had nothing to do with Gabriel at all. It was all Mayor Bustier, who was already running for mayor and wanted to enact green laws and projected to win (she was up against D'Argencourt, the character whose schtick is that nobody ever votes for him in elections). I don't think Gabriel's wish included "Please, Gimmi, I want my son's school teacher to win the mayoral election this year" lol. So a lot of talk of "why is Gabriel's World presented in such a positive light?" is kind of weird to me. That's not Gabriel's World. That's Caline Bustier's. All we know so far about Gabriel's World is that Nathalie is in it and he is not. And frankly, the fact everyone is so happy and cheerful and living it up after his death is more a roast than anything
( also, just a reminder that the presentation of Gabriel's statue— the only scene discussing Gabriel in a positive light by someone In The Know— was done by Tomoe Tsurugi, a series antagonist, vowing to continue his work, with a song in minor key playing in the background. i feel like the question of "was this meant to be unsettling or triumphant?" is pretty obvious. just wanted to remind everyone. also by definition characters cannot celebrate gabriel as a "hero" without in the same breath celebrating monarch's, aka gabriel's, death. yknow? )
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veganineden · 9 months
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On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”
A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2
One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?
In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are. 
So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”? 
My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.” 
If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression. 
Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity. 
Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity. 
You know who does?
Aziraphale. 
And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.) 
In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.
I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation. 
Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”
So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.” 
And most likely a cottage. 
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
 - Maya Angelou
Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.  
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signedkoko · 3 months
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hello, good afternoon/night!
I was wondering if you could do a vox x character (?) oneshot where the other person has royal status (something similar to stolas).
I’m interested to see if vox would change his attitude if he was interacting with someone above him, or if he would act the same as usual.
either way, I hope this makes sense and thank you so much!
Vox X Reader [Romantic]
In which you are apart of the ars goetia family, and Vox doesn't know much about royalty. Reader is genderneutral.
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Being one of the 72 members of the family didn't feel special from your point of view; you were royalty, yes, but what that actually meant was beyond you
Nevertheless, you were representative of innovation, and your role as an 'aristocrat' was quite literally the most dull of all: an archivist
Your role was to document, file, or archive every piece of information that has ever existed or will exist, and to protect it all in your library
You were a vast network of knowledge, not too different from a computer
That was where you and Vox became so similar, he was certainly an impressive overlord worth meeting.
You found yourself archiving logs upon logs of his creations, of his ad campaigns, of his scandals; he was always up to something
It piqued your interest, so you were sure to note the next time you were in proximity so you could meet him
Vox didn't give two shits about royalty, but what he did care about were the opportunities it presented
It was worth being nice to them and biting your tongue, and in all honesty, he wasn't much of a hot head when it came to people he didn't know
He had files on every member of the Ars Goetia, including yours, and he'd developed a bit of a 'celebrity' crush
You seemed so like him, but he knew pictures could only say so much about a person and moved on
Both of you knew the other would be at the same event, and like magnets, you came straight to one another
Vox used his television charm to lure you in, and just like you'd hoped, it worked
He is extremely nervous around royalty because, truth be told, they really are far more powerful than he or any other overlord
Not to say he doubts himself, but he understands his limits
And being technology itself, he also knows that your ability nearly pales his technology—computers are without a doubt more capable of storing information and processing it than any human or demon ever could, but you were beyond that
That is to say, he is extremely impressed with you and asks a lot about your ability, almost hoping it'll reveal some kind of trick he could use too
Unfortunately, no tricks, but he does find you to be just as kind as he'd imagined
Ars Goetia is extremely strict about the relationships they have, but fortunately for you, you knew every rule and loophole there was to know and managed to get by with 'one of hell's strongest overlords'
He is very adaptive to rules and customs, so it's no issue impressing your family with his seemingly infinite skills
" I didn't know you knew all that, Vox. "
" Yeah! You know, I didn't either! "
He absolutely goes autopilot a lot around other royals because he does not want to cause you any trouble, but you always tell him to relax and let him know you'd never let them get in the way
The hardest decision is who is moving, and when you eventually offer to abandon your lavish lifestyle for his minimalistic city style, he does whatever he can to help you adapt.
Really, you are his prince(ss), and he will treat you like the royalty you are
" So, does this make me a prince now? "
" Are you proposing? "
One of his favourite perks is that now he can really stick it to Alastor
Not that he would ever intend on putting you in danger—even if you'd win—but let's be honest
You would win against that stupid radio demon
Oh yeah, he's proud of that too
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Author's Note - I ended up doing headcanons because I felt the prompt didn't have enough for me to go off of, I apologize for disappointing!~ Even so, I hope this still catches your interest 🖤
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peachsayshi · 1 month
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₊ ⊹ . ݁ sex worker!suguru geto x rich girl!reader ₊ ⊹ .
⊹ tags: nudity; post-sex; slightly angsty; au
:about: you grew up in a supremely wealthy household, but that came with a price. you've never had control over your own life, and now your father is set to marry you off. distraught by the news, you decide to call your contact for comfort.
:note: I don't know why but I've been thinking about this au a lot recently and I'm completely obsessed. I have so many aus for my faves and really wanted to spend some time exploring them more!
wc: 1,067
"an arranged marriage, huh?" suguru whispers, his sharp eyes dipping to your naked chest while his delicate fingers carefully push the bedsheet further down to your hips.
you inch a little closer into his frame, soaking in the outlines of his chiseled torso and bring one finger to trace little shapes on his broad shoulder. your brows furrow with annoyance, "yeah, you ever heard of the zenin family?"
suguru scoffs, breaking character for only a second. it's something that you've started noticing recently. that he doesn't hold his reactions around you as tightly as he used to. the front of this alter ego that he created has started to falter, but you find yourself drawn to the person existing underneath the mask of the seducer.
you sigh, "my father thinks naoya zenin is a perfect match for me."
an uneasy expression flickers across suguru's face, but he suppresses it before allowing it to linger.
you lift yourself up onto your elbow and rest your head on your palm. "what is it?"
suguru mimics your position, his large hand gliding back and forth over the slope of your hips and waistline. it sends goosebumps all over your body, your mind going back to the first time when you met him in person.
you still vividly remember his reaction. the way his eyes widened, and the quirk of his brow as he addressed you.
"you're young," he blurted.
"we're around the same age," you replied defensively, already feeling insecure for having hired him after you spent weeks watching his videos. you didn't even know about his house calls until you heard it from a source within your social circle. " is this how you greet all your clients?"
suguru boldly checks you out, "my other clients don't look like you..."
over time you learned that he catered to a specific demographic: older divorcees and cheating housewives.
the person you might turn into twenty years from now if this marriage goes through.
a knot forms in your stomach.
"I've heard that naoya..." suguru explains, pinching the pads of his fingers lightly against your flesh before leaning forward to kiss the crease between your brows. "can be a handful to deal with..."
you thread your fingers around his neck, your lips finding his jaw where you return a kiss. "and who told you that?" you murmur, as the weight of suguru's body rolls on top of yours.
a wicked smile ticks at the corners of his lips, and you're staring at his devastatingly handsome face from below. the longer you spent time with him the more you began to wonder about his circumstances.
the same thought constantly crosses your mind time and time again.
suguru could truly be anything he wanted but instead he was here making a killing off of fucking lonely women and making porn videos.
you aren't here to judge his choices, but you can't help but feel puzzled by the situation.
his smile gives you the answer. his source regarding naoya zenin thanks to a client, but suguru has a confidentiality policy and shares nothing about the other women he beds.
you shiver when his mouth meets your neck, his lips sucking along the tender skin that sends goosebumps all over your chest but there's an ache in your heart when you consider that if it wasn't for the signed cheque in your purse, he wouldn't even be here in the first place.
not a single man you've met in the world compares to suguru. not only was he beautiful beyond comprehension, but he had striking charm and was extremely smart. you found yourself enjoying his company beyond physical purposes, and conversations with him turned out to be one of your favorite ways to pass time.
"think we'll still get together when you're a missus?" he teases, his lips trailing lower to your collar bones and hovering just a above your breasts covered with the hickeys that he's left.
the thought of getting married makes you sick.
"do you peg me as a terrible wife? a woman who would happily cheat on her husband?" you question, your voice small and trembling when suguru circles his lips around your hard nipple.
he hums, drawing out a whimper when he nips at the bud lightly.
"no," he answers, his voice dropping an octave and your mind swirls when you contemplate if that strange tone is actually jealousy. he rests his chin on your chest, his inky hair framing his face in a waterfall of obsidian. "I do, however, peg naoya as a terrible husband"
you sink your fingers into his locks. "it doesn't matter who my father chooses, they are all the same. naoya is no worse than the rest. I'm trapped regardless..."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," suguru responds sincerely, the sweetness in his voice the reason why your eyes prick with tears.
you sniffle, using your free hand to wipe away a rogue droplet freely falls down your cheek. suguru softens his expression, adjusting his position so he was laying by your side. he doesn't say anything but draws you into his chest for a hug, enveloping you in his warmth. you try hard not to consider the reality of the situation, and accept the gesture freely as you cuddle against him.
the moment of peace is interrupted by a loud vibration. you and suguru both perk up to stare at his phone buzzing on the side table.
your heart sinks.
another client.
suguru reaches his arm around to grab the phone, and you close your eyes as you inhale his natural scent, trying to soak him in for as long as you can. but to your surprise he simply switches it off, and wraps his arm back around you to return to his position.
"you sure you don't need to take that?" you mumble, trying to play off your disappointment as casually as possible.
"I'm booked out for the rest of the evening," he answers nonchalantly, "there's no reason to respond."
a flutter in your belly sends a tingle all over your skin. "but...your cheque only covers the hours we agreed on..."
two fingers touch the underside of your chin, and suguru tilts your head up so you were both face to face again. "don't worry about it, doll," he consoles, his thumb lightly outlining your bottom lip, "this is on the house."
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all my life i've been frozen, forgive me if i wince at your warmth; kiss my blue lips and say the frost brings out my eyes.
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jd6 x reader: maybe roommates wasn't the best idea (sugar pt. 2).
(warnings: blasphemous filth (we're back, and this is a good one), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (f on m), hair pulling and spit and all my usual stuff (you guys know. legs and lips and all that nonsense). lots of whining and whimpering from the ducks defenseman with the giant traps. descriptions of general insecurity (but of course!). know yourself and your limits, please don't read if you're not 100% sure).
(a/n: alright, my favorites. here you have it, the promised continuation of my jd6 sugar piece from halloween (so please read that here first so this makes sense)! and yes, it's long (11.1k), so thank you, as always, for your support and kindness and patience and gentleness. congratulations to jd6 for his return to the big leagues. this is his prize, i'm sure he'll be thrilled. it appears it's impossible for me to write a story without using tz11 as a comedic side character. obviously there is nothing realistic about this, such is the upside of fictitious writing. can you tell i had an idea for like two scenes and then filled in all the blanks? (been wanting to write gaming chair head for a million years). if you relate to the more serious insecurities addressed within this story, know i'm here for you. please believe that it is so utterly and completely fathomable that people are and will be attracted to and interested in you! anyways, please let me know what you think (and who/what you want next)! go canucks (and all-star qh43). until next time, all my love).
it had taken little convincing on either side for jamie to move in with you. it was sort of funny, how not so long ago, it had been only you in your apartment, and now he was there, too, evidence of him all around.
a few months in, you had almost forgotten what the fridge looked like without his recovery drinks lining the shelves, what the living room smelled like without his favorite candle burning, what the mudroom looked like without his shoes and bags littered around the door.
you had grown accustomed to him, in his entirety, and the more he revealed about himself, the more trouble you had remembering what this place had been like without him.
it seemed so crucially important that you knew about his culinary endeavors (he was trying ever so hard to branch out beyond chicken and rice). it seemed of the utmost significance that you understood all of his favorites of everything, and that he knew all of yours in return. because if you didn't, one of you might bring home a flavor of ice cream the other didn't like, or flowers the other didn't like the color of, or something like that.
and if he didn't know the names of your favorite movies, how would he be able to talk to you about them? and if you didn't have a little bit of a grasp on the gaming world, how could you keep up when he rambled on about it?
you told yourself it was only polite that you knew about his interests, and his family, and his friends, and his dreams. that he was only being polite when he asked about all of yours.
you were sort of shocked at how quickly he had made his presence known within your routine. his schedule merged with yours on the calendar attached to the fridge. his friends came over to play video games, yours to watch movies.
you were proud of yourself for how you had handled his moving in, really, but you'd be lying if you said he didn't have an effect on you. he was the same blushing, stuttering, beautiful boy who had dropped that plant in your doorway, after all.
and you were acutely aware of the effect he had on you, from that very first day. he didn't seem to let you forget it, like the night, a few days into your new arrangement, when you went into the kitchen around midnight to get a glass of water.
something you had done, time and time again, almost every night, alone. so you were startled, to say the least, when you felt a figure behind you. you whipped around, your heartbeat elevated, thudding in your chest, in your neck.
you placed a hand over your heart to still yourself when you recognized that shaggy dark hair, square face, broad build.
"fuck, jamie," you practically whispered, your voice tense, "you scared me." you made to pour him a glass of water, willed your body to emerge from danger mode.
"'m sorry, petal," he murmured, and his tone alone could have set your body ablaze, rumbling through you like an earthquake. "didn't mean to." apology thickened his words like cornstarch.
"'s okay," you said as you passed him the glass, took a sip from your own.
if it was light you would have seen his eyes track the motion, how his gaze seemed to get stuck on your lips around the rim of your glass.
there was something very heavy about sharing this space with him, especially now, in the cover of the night. you felt freer, almost indulgent, in taking him in. less guilty in your secret wanting. suddenly your brow furrowed in concern. "did i wake you up?"
he shrugged, took a sip of his water, which made your swallow shaky. "walls are thin," he rasped. "just wanted to make sure you were okay."
your exhale was shallow as you took in his words. this exchange in the dark was too dangerous, too much. you made to go back to your room, stopping to place a wanting palm on his corded shoulder as you passed him. you felt him flex instinctively under your touch, suddenly wanted, simultaneously, to be anywhere but here and to never leave. "thanks for checking on me, jamie," you whispered. it seemed to have been so long since someone had done that.
there was a pause full of uncertainty. "'course," he replied, rough and rolling.
you were so, so, close, and such a predicament could have ignited the foundation of the building in all of its seriousness.
that exchange, so early on in knowing him, nonetheless had you promising yourself that you wouldn't let your relationship with jamie grow beyond anything besides roommates. just roommates, you said, and that's it. anything past that boundary was too dangerous, too charged, too soaked in meaning and feeling and wanting.
but such a promise was proving hard to keep, even months later. because as comfortable as you had grown to each other, there was something so deliriously uncomfortable about being so close to each other, so ridiculously entwined in each others' days, and yet not touching, not indulging the desire you both so felt. so scared to look desperate, to be caught red handed in want, even if that was exactly true.
regardless, such a promise was proving hard to keep, especially on days like today.
you were sitting at the kitchen counter, one leg pulled up to your chest as you sat on a stool. you still worked at the same coffee shop, and you still loved it, but you had picked up some copywriting jobs here and there, too.
naturally, you looked up when you sensed another figure enter the room. your gaze caught on a very sleepy jamie with a very sleepy smile.
"morning," he said, his voice rough and raspy with remnants of night.
you felt your mouth tick upwards in response to his presence. "morning, jamie," you replied, shifting on your stool, willing jittery attraction out of your voice, out of your head. there was no space for that here, you told yourself. you cleared your throat as he made himself a cup of tea. "doing anything fun today?"
he turned to you, leaned his frame back against the counter, a movement so comfortable it made you blush. he hummed, thinking, before meeting your eyes. "nothing out of the routine," he mused, his gaze on you making you feel his attention in your feet, in the tips of your fingers. "when're you working? maybe i'll swing by."
your chest thumped at the thought of him taking time to come see you, even though that wasn't necessarily rare anymore. he visited your coffee shop at least once a week, but the sentiment of it all wasn't lost on you. the preciosity of someone deeming you worthy of a drive, however short.
you leaned on your clasped hands, scrunched up your nose in gentle pleasantry. "two to close, today," you told him, "but you don't have to come."
his eyes softened ever so slightly, his expression all maple syrup and pancakes on a lazy sunday morning. "want to, petal," he told you, taking his mug and starting back towards his room. "give me something to look forward to, eh?"
you were glad to hear his door swing shut behind him, if only so that he didn't see your face scrunch up further in guilty delight, at being his something to look forward to.
if jamie had settled into being your roommate, your favorite coworker had not settled into that fact. or maybe she had settled in, but it didn't appear that she would be giving you or him a break anytime soon.
it had only been a couple of months, and she had yet to go a day without bringing him up, nevermind going a visit without saying something you were sure would embarrass him.
as promised, after his workout and skate, the bell above the door jingled. you swore the sound was louder, more jubilant when he opened the door than any other patron.
he's here, the bell seemed to sing, finally, finally, he's here! you fought the urge to shush the inanimate object.
"well, well, well," your coworker said, wiping down the counter, "honestly, 6, i'm shocked you had any time to stop by, given your packed schedule of not shooting the puck."
you shook your head at her. "don't be mean, lovely," you chastised. you locked eyes with jamie, molten chocolate and stained glass. "i'm sure you shoot just enough."
his returning grin was carefully confident. "right as always," he told your coworker, "if we had a coaching opening i'd put in a good word."
this quickly spurred your coworker into a heated rant about how poorly the coach of the ducks was handling his roster full of young talent.
you began the process of making his drink, the one he insisted on ever since that first day. he had told you before that nothing could possibly be better than your fall themed treat. as you shook the maple syrup and espresso with ice, you missed the way a flush dusted across the bridge of his nose, like a day out in the sun.
your coworker did not miss this, however. she smirked, tilted her head. "a bit hot in here, drysdale? you look a little flushed."
he shot her a look, one which she mimicked before you turned to hand him his drink.
"here you are," you said as his hand closed over yours around the to-go cup.
your mind sparked and sputtered at the feeling of his warm hand over your fingers. he could have grabbed under your hand, the hopeless romantic in your head screeched. he could have avoided your touch, but he didn't!
but you had long ago resigned to refusing to listen to the hopeless romantic, in all of her desperate and shameful loveliness. you couldn't trust her, you had learned. she only ever left you feeling lost and longing.
so you silenced her, ignored her big, teary eyes as you dismissed her for the thousandth time, pulled your hand away.
"thank you, petal," he said, so genuine and sweet, so exactly him. it seemed cruel that you still weren't used to him, to his kindness, that he was still evoking this kind of response from you.
your only solace was that he didn't seem to be finding it especially easy, either, if his flickering gaze or flexing hands were anything to go by.
"you're welcome," you replied. "headed home now?"
he hummed in affirmation, rocked back on his heels. "when will you be home?"
you could have sighed at just how domestic it all was, like some kind of sixties fantasy. honey, i'm home! echoed in your head.
but you shut that down as quickly as it appeared. "why?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, "expecting company, or something?" your mouth quirked. "maybe a girl?"
he paled, and you were surprised at your nerve, too. you didn't really know why you were doing this, why you would ask. you and jamie didn't have that kind of relationship, and why would you ask that anyway, when you knew for a fact one of the possible two answers would cut through you like a warm knife through butter?
thankfully, your coworker broke the tension with an exaggerated laugh, actually slapping the counter before looking up and clocking both of the confused looks turned her way. "oh," she said, looking between the two of you, "was that not a joke?" she nodded. "alright then, my bad."
jamie gave a short shake of his head as if mentally moving on. "no one's coming over," he said to you, "just wanted to know when i should make dinner."
in a cartoon, your heart would have beat out of your chest, through your shirt and folded apron. "i'll be back at seven," you told him. "i'll see you then?"
his smile warmed the room. "see you then, petal."
the bell rang, this time dreary and disappointed, as the door shut behind him.
your coworker immediately turned to you, eyes teasing and playful.
"if you're gonna say something, lovely, just say it," you prompted, taking out the closing checklist.
she was practically buzzing on her feet. "tell me you've given up on your no fraternizing with roommates rule," she begged, clasping her hands for emphasis. "tell me you realize how obvious you're both being."
you waved her off, shook your head. "the rule is there because it's important," you chided, "and there's no way he's into me like i'm into him." a line you had used about almost every guy you had liked, repeated so many times in your head it was practically a hymn.
she folded her arms in front of her chest, rolled her eyes. "when you're ready to come to terms with people finding you attractive and interesting and wonderful, as you are, let me know," she called out over her shoulder as she went on her smoke break.
her words stayed with you, though, because they were meaningful. it was hard for you, dreadfully so, to even fathom that someone could find you worthy of their time, their energy, their attention.
even when you were actively flirting with people, acting confident, like you were that first day when jamie walked into your coffee shop, it felt as false, as foreign, as theatrical as shakespeare in the park.
why was it so easy for you to give all of that to others, why did you want to give it to them so desperately? why did it feel like such an impossible ask for someone to give that to you?
her words were burrowing in the back of your mind as you locked the front door of your apartment behind you, breathed in a delicious smell, maybe rosemary? thyme?
you let yourself drift into the kitchen, were met with a freshly showered jamie in pajama pants and an old ohl t-shirt. he stood over the stovetop, humming something, before turning and meeting your eyes, sending a spark flickering through your veins.
"welcome home, petal," he said, his full lips quirking up in that gentle smile you had come to crave.
"long time no see," you teased, knowing it had been only a couple of hours.
his gaze was full of something heavy when he tilted his head, heaped some pasta onto two plates. "felt long," he admitted, "the house is so weird without you here."
your stomach flipped. he couldn't just say things like that, you decided, if he didn't expect you to melt completely, a puddle of pink glitter glue on the hardwood floor.
"weird how?" you asked, hating yourself for pushing.
your mother's voice was jarring, harsh in your head. don't fish for compliments, she always said, it's vain.
now that you were older, you wanted a chance to respond to her. is it fishing for compliments if you never get any? if all you ever hear is how you could do better? you took a breath. is it so wrong to want to hear something good?
jamie didn't appear to think you were being vain, anyways. "weird like quiet," he said, gentle and soft, "i don't know, honestly, just different. it's better when you're here."
you couldn't help but blush at his words, even though you had asked for them. the mother in your head scoffed.
you smiled at him, so genuine you could feel your eyes crinkle at the corners. "i think it's better when you're here, too," you said, low and loaded like a secret.
suddenly the air between you grew thick and heavy, simmering with something the reason in you knew better than to identify. you held each other's gazes for a moment, almost begging, daring the other to do something.
you had never been the kind of person to pick dare during sleepover games, always felt truth was the safer bet. now, there was nothing safe about the truth, either. you cleared your throat, fidgeted with your fingers, dropped your gaze and asked him about practice, what he made for dinner.
do you think about me like i think about you? you wanted to ask him. have you ever wanted me to just hold you after a long day? have you ever thought about what my lips would feel like on your neck?
you shivered, pushed the thoughts away as you ate dinner together, tried to lean into the privilege of spending time with him, even if you wished for something more.
can't this be enough? you pleaded. why isn't this enough?
the words of your routine spun around the two of you like a whirlpool. work, skate, game, lift, dinner, road trip, copywriting. the words of your combined schedules swirled around your head.
better those that the other words, always lurking around the two of you like childhood monsters under a bed: eyes, heat, lips, sweet, gentle, soft, shoulders, arms.
you must have zoned out, because he waved a hand once in front of your face. "petal?"
you shook yourself out of your trance-like state. "sorry," you said, already feeling the familiar flush of embarrassment.
he fixed you with a look. "for what?" he asked, less confused, more curious.
you closed your eyes for a second, took a deep breath. why was he making you explain this? "i mean, i was probably staring at you, right?" you said, feeling the shame of it prick you on the fingers like a thousand needles.
his gaze dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before meeting your eyes again. there was a silence, and when he spoke again, his voice was husky. "you can stare at me all you want, petal."
you could have whimpered, could have screamed. don't say things like that to me, you wanted to tell him. tell me things like that every second until i die, you also wanted to say.
"really?" you whispered, too starry-eyed to cringe at yourself. your food lay forgotten in front of you. how many times had you eaten dinner together, just like this? how many times had you pushed this feeling away? was it possible that he was doing just the same?
he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, a self-satisfied move from him you have never really seen before. you rubbed your crossed ankles together.
you took a breath, a last beat of courage, before reaching across the counter and brushing his hair from out of his eyes. his skin scorched your fingertips, his eyes made your breathing slow and shallow. "you can stare at me, too," you said to him, pulling your arm back.
his eyes were full of understanding. "i know," he told you. "i do."
that knowledge was still haunting you days later. that he noticed you, registered your presence, like you did him. how could you ever act normally again, knowing this? how could you ever act without the constant weight of him around?
so you did the only thing you could think of - you ignored him, avoided him, hoped to skillfully evade his careful gaze, however much it hurt you not to see him, to talk with him, to ask him how practices and games went.
such a task became impossible when the bell clinked cheerily, the following weekend, signifying you and the coffee shop of the arrival of its favorite patron.
you looked up, halfway surprised to see him enter with another person, too, a teammate you had met, you were sure of it, but one you couldn't quite recall the name of. the two of them approached the counter in a shroud of laughter and easiness.
apparently, your coworker recognized the friend, too, because upon their approach she began a slow, sarcastic applause. "gentlemen," she said, "allow me to congratulate you on a recording breaking game last night."
jamie and his friend shared a look. "um," jamie began, careful, "we lost last night."
"oh," your coworker finished an order and set it on the pick-up counter. "i should have clarified. the record was for laziest defensive performance i've ever witnessed." she gave them a quick thumbs up. "congrats again! know you guys have been working real hard for this one."
jamie shook his head lightheartedly before locking eyes with you, smiling slightly. you hadn't really spoken since the other night, but you still didn't really know what to say. you didn't know where you stood, what lines were still drawn.
thankfully, your coworker refused to drop it, not leaving any opportunity for silence, now speaking directly to the newcomer. "i'm so happy you're here, 11," she continued. "you know that you're allowed in your own defensive zone, right? feel free to cross the red line, i think you'll find that defense makes winning a lot easier."
the object of your coworkers jabs turned to jamie. "am i supposed to take this?"
jamie shrugged. "i usually do."
she waved him off. "yeah, but you're hoping i'll put in a good word with your roommate." you blushed at her words, hope sparking at the possibility of them being true.
jamie didn't drop your gaze. "yeah, and how far is that getting me? you gonna put in a good word?"
every fiber of your being told you not to take his words at face value. every fiber of your being wanted to.
she scoffed. "yeah, right. if anything i'd just say you're a pushover."
the newcomer scrunched up his expressive face. "well, in that case, why don't you keep your thoughtful advice to yourself?"
she tilted her head back and laughed. "what, 11, can't take a little feedback?" she pouted, false pity all over her face. "guess you're every bit the flashy bust they say you are."
"no one is saying that!" he fumed, "literally name one person who is saying that!"
you and your roommate stifled your laughter as their argument grew.
you made him his drink, handed it over. his face was gentle, soft as took the cup from you. "you're avoiding me," he said, not accusatory, a simple observation.
you couldn't lie to him and say you weren't, so you only stayed quiet.
"i miss you," he said, so simple and genuine in its honesty that you could have cried.
"i miss you, too," you said, easy as an exhale.
his gaze glimmered. "so watch a movie with me tonight, yeah?"
your mouth twitched, because you wanted to, so badly, but you didn't know if you could trust yourself.
he shifted back and forth on his heels. the sun dripped so languishingly over his brow, down his jaw and neck. "please?" he asked, and you were done.
"okay," you conceded, butterflies already fluttering to life in your stomach at the thought of spending tonight with him on the couch.
a thud and a grunt shook you both from your conversation as you turned to your respective friends. your coworker appeared to be throwing bags of coffee beans at jamie's teammate. "can't hide behind a ref now, can you?" she taunted the lanky newcomer, who struggled to catch the bags.
"this is the behavior of a deranged fan," he pointed out, placing the bags back on the counter. "i hope you realize that."
"you wish i was a fan of yours," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "on an unrelated note, can i take a video of you wishing my little brother good luck on his math test tomorrow?"
the video was filmed, reluctant thanks and apologies were given and accepted.
"i apologize for the physical assault, but not the truth, 11," your coworker conceded, "and you're only getting any apology at all because this is going to mean the world to my brother."
"can't you just apologize normally?" you pushed, looking to make the rest of the patrons more comfortable, the energy less combative.
"tell you what," she said to him, "if you put in some effort next game to something besides michigans and between-the-legs shots, i'll give you the best apology you've ever seen."
jamie hissed. "he's gonna take that in a way you won't like."
his teammate leveled your coworker with a smirk. "do i get to pick how you apologize?"
she scoffed, an angry flush all over her face. "no, you don't get to pick! what the hell is the matter with you?"
you and jamie shared a look at their bickering. see you at home, petal, he mouthed to you on the way out, argumentative words still saturating the air.
bye, jamie, you mouthed back with a wave.
when you got back from work, called out your greeting, settled in, and changed out of your uniform, you found him on the couch, were all too happy to join him, however off limits it felt.
he felt off limits, like this, all messy hair and eyes tired with the day, worn-in sweatpants and sweatshirts from junior hockey and lazy stretches that revealed slivers of skin.
you lifted up a blanket, pulled your knees to your chest underneath it, avoided his gaze. "your friend's a character, hm?" you started.
he shifted his posture to get a better look at you, even though he was now faced halfway away from the movie he was in the middle of. "who, trevor?" he gave a playful roll of his eyes. "ignore him. he thinks your friend's hot and doesn't know what to do about it."
"that's him flirting?" you said, eyes wide, words spoken slowly for emphasis. "good grief, his act needs some work."
jamie's smile slanted into something dangerous. "what, wouldn't work on you, petal?" suddenly the blanket over you seemed like entirely not enough coverage. you felt completely exposed as you gave a slight shake of your head. he draped a heavy arm along the back of the couch. "no?" he paused, forced you to meet his magnetic gaze as he ran a hand through his hair. "what would work on you, then?"
you searched his eyes for a drop of humor, of teasing, of something that would hurt you, as you had long ago trained yourself to. you could sniff out potential abandonment, embarrassment like a bloodhound. but you came up empty, with him.
what could you say to him? that anything that he does, anything he could ever do, that's what would work on you? that he works on you?
your careful silence could have been a banshee scream into an open expanse as the air between the two of you again adopted that rolling flame, that lick of heat up your bare legs.
your eyes widened as he tugged your feet and calves into his laps with one hand, gently but firmly, just enough so that you could feel the warmth from his thick quads pooling in the backs of your knees.
just close enough to want more. just close enough to know you shouldn't.
"'m picky," you said, almost out of breath, swallowing your uneasiness down until the only thing you felt was him. "not into the interest disguised as insults."
he hummed as if he understood, ran his fingers over your shins, feather-light, so much so that later you would wonder if you had only imagined he had touched you. "so what?" he said, meeting your eyes in the dim light you had long ago deemed especially dangerous. "like to be called pretty, petal? like it when they make it, so, so easy for you?" his fingers dragged across your ankle in an electrifying way that had you forgetting about your promise. "like when they go slow?"
you let out some kind of strangled sound, halfway between a nervous laugh and a whimper. because you did like all of those things, of course you did. you liked proof that people cared about you, how could you not?
you couldn't even dwell on how delicious the word pretty sounded in his mouth, how much you wanted to taste it, because something else in his wording willed confidence into your body, clarity into your head in place of guilt.
"who's they?" you asked, your voice steadier than it had been in weeks.
"hm?" he asked, rough.
"i said," you repeated, shifting your body until you rested on top of his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. "who's they?" you were closer than you had ever been as you felt him underneath you, almost chest to chest. so close you could feel his breathing stutter against you. you brushed his messy hair from his face until you could see his eyes in all of their gorgeous truth. "i don't care much about them, jamie."
something rumbled in him, something you felt in your bones. he looked so, so beautiful, and his mouth was right there, and was he tilting his head closer to you? and-
"jim! when the hell are you gonna give me back my blender?" your door swinging open and shut might as well have been a strike of lightning as you scrambled away from each other. trevor's voice cut through your apartment like thunder, like a cold shower.
in a moment he appeared in the doorframe, suddenly eyeing the two of you with the suspicion only a best friend could muster. he gestured between the two of you, now comically far apart on opposite sides of the couch.
"what's going on here?" he asked.
jamie tilted his head back again, wiped at his face with both hands. "sure, yeah, come on in," he said to trevor through his fingers.
"how did you get in here?" you asked, you voice still dark with want, the aftermath of confidence still lacing your tone.
"key," trevor said, waving you off as if this piece of information wasn't relevant. "why?" he looked between the two of you again, eyes narrowed. "'m i interrupting something?"
silence followed. you didn't look at jamie, and he didn't clarify. "no," you said finally, not angry, but knowing the moment was over. "i guess not."
and so you pulled yourself up, made your way back to your room, every inch of your skin buzzing, every heartbeat a burst of electricity through your body.
voices grew fainter as you neared your door.
"if you'd just give me back my blender this wouldn't be such a problem," trevor hissed.
"and you couldn't've shot me a text? figured you'd just break in to my house?" jamie's voice was resigned. you knew he could never stay mad at his friend.
"it's not breaking in if you gave me a key, scumbag."
you shut your door behind you and collapsed onto your bed, still feeling the phantom of his body underneath you, the ghost of his fingertips digging into your hips. you groaned into a pillow, hating that when you closed your eyes all you saw was his full, pink mouth.
the next day, when you relayed all of this new, and not so new information to your friend at work, she shook her head slowly.
"i don't know," she said, pouring a double shot over ice, "but it sounds like you've either gotta make this thing serious or check out your other options." she shot you a look. "no more of this pining bullshit."
you whacked her with a rag playfully, but sighed. "i can't make it serious. and i don't have other options, so looks like pining's all i got."
"tell me you're kidding." she glared at you. "i've had like three friends just in the past week come in and text me after asking if you're single."
you scrunched up your face. "no, you haven't," you said, knowing there's no way that could be true.
"callin' me a liar?" she prompted, pulling out her phone with her free hand and scrolling until she found one of the texts, facing it to you.
sure enough, there was a message from some guy, some ordinary name, asking if she'd set him up with the "smoke in the canada hat," referring to the hat you had borrowed of jamie's earlier this week.
"whatever," you said, "it doesn't really matter."
"it does matter." your friend set the drink down on the pickup counter and turned to meet your gaze entirely. "it matters to me that you find it so hard to believe that people are into you." she grasped for one of your hands, held it firmly.
her touch was welcome, and so were her words. because honestly, you knew why you found it so hard to believe. because even though you had a pretty good relationship with yourself, even though you knew now that you were beautiful, and smart, and funny, and kind, when you were young, you didn't know that. when you were young, the people you were closest to were basically telling you that you weren't those things.
flashes of tense family dinners, long car rides during which you were the butt of every joke shot across your mind like meteors, just as destructive.
saw you talking to a boy today during lunch, one of your older siblings would say after a long day, maybe middle school, maybe sophomore year. is he your boy-friend? the words slow and taunting, malicious, immediately making an angry, embarrassed flush break out across your face.
don't be ridiculous, peanut, your mother would scold your sibling from the front seat, it's rude. and it's not like she was wrong, the boy you had been talking to wasn't your boyfriend, but it stung like a wasp nonetheless.
why is it ridiculous? you wanted to ask, tears brimming, hot behind your eyes. would that really be so hard to believe?
or countless calls with your parents during your first year of college, each more demeaning than the last. you know you're allowed to date, right? your mother might say. you know we aren't strict about that kind of thing. you held back a bitter and sarcastic congratulations.
i know, you would say, trying to hide the defeat you felt at the disappointed sigh she had done such a poor job of hiding.
every not-so subtle jab landed deep, until even the words put yourself out there induced a physical reaction.
it hurt to think about allowing yourself to want, to be wanted, because what if they laughed in your face? what if it all really was ridiculous, all this time? what if it really was hard to believe?
you sighed, now, squeezed your coworker's hand.
"how about this," she proposed, her eyes as soft as you had ever seen them. "how about i set you up with one of my friends who's interested, just one date, and we see how it goes? no pressure, and i'll make sure he knows it's no pressure. think of it like practice."
you thought for a moment, bit your lip. you could use a stress-free practice, that much was true, and you trusted this friend to not set you up with a sleaze-ball. and, you confessed, if you wanted to fizzle out whatever was going on with your roommate, this would probably be a good start.
so you agreed. the decision was made easier by the fact that jamie was on the road this week, so you didn't have him to distract you. the day of your dinner date ended up being the day he was set to return, but he wasn't supposed to get back until the middle of the night.
you wouldn't have to explain yourself to anyone, or even tell anyone how it went, if you didn't want to, you reminded yourself. just practice, no pressure.
and the guy was really sweet, honestly. he was good-looking, too, if not a bit more lanky, taller than the guys you usually went for. he asked you questions, and seemed to care about the answers, and you found yourself in a full conversation with him pretty easily.
but then something in your mind would catch on his shoulders and think not big enough to sink your teeth into, and then on his mouth and think he'd never call you petal, and then on his cheeks, which didn't blush the whole night, not even once.
and he was a really nice guy, but you found yourself wanting to invite him to join your friend group's book club, not invite him back to your place. you found yourself thinking quite intently about a certain person who was not, in fact, the man sitting across from you at the table.
which was fine, you realized, because this is practice, and he doesn't have to be the one. practice means you can find a friend.
so, with a smile, a shared admission that you would like to get to know each others as friends, and a promise to send him the address to the next book club meeting, you left your first date in forever feeling proud of yourself.
on your way back into your apartment, you sent your friend from work a thank you text before making your way to your room and changing into something more comfortable.
you settled on sleep shorts and an old t-shirt before heading to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, breathing in the smell of steeping chamomile when a sound behind you made you jump.
thankfully you would recognize that frame anywhere. you exhaled. "jesus, jamie," you breathed, "thought you wouldn't be back 'til later."
he stepped forward, the light so dark and dim and dangerous, especially after not seeing him all week. the slope of his high cheekbones, the sharp cut of his jaw, the deep pooling of feeling in his eyes. it all rushed at you a million miles an hour and stole your breath.
"got in early," he explained, his gaze ever so slow down your figure, like he was mapping it, committing it to memory. "were you out?" he asked, his voice suddenly rough.
you swallowed, thinking about what to say. a pause settled between the two of you, thick like mud, decadent like chocolate pudding.
i missed you, you wanted to tell him. tell me you missed me, too.
he inched closer still, leaned against the kitchen counter as you busied yourself with stirring your tea with the tea bag. "don't wanna tell me?" he mused. "how could that be, petal?"
you didn't meet his eyes, suddenly feeling childish. "went on a date."
you were both silent, for a moment. you looked up to check if he was still there. "and why didn't you wanna tell me?" his voice was gravelly.
your hands were shaking, you realized, so you set down your mug, crossed your arms against your chest with a sigh. "he was nice," you admitted, didn't quite miss the green flame that sparked across his gaze, blinked out in a moment. "but i was distracted." you looked down at your feet.
then he was right in front of you, a step apart. it had been so long since you had been so close, and the memory of what had happed that last time burned between the two of you, unspoken, yet the most obvious fixture in the room.
you looked up to meet his curious, careful gaze, wanted so badly to lean forward, sink into his broad chest, breathe him in and never stop.
"by what, petal?" he asked, so close you could practically feel the words on your own lips, his tone so low and heavy your stomach dropped.
you swallowed, watched his eyes track the movement. "you," you said simply, honestly.
and then his eyes searched yours for a single telling moment before his hands came to cup your face, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that held a million i missed you, i missed you, i missed you's.
you let out some soft noise into his mouth at the lovely pressure of his lips against yours, so firm and knowing. you pressed yourself so closely against his chest, one hand on his collarbone, the other grasping around his neck.
he leaned forward into you so pleasantly before moving his arms down to lift you by the waist, setting you down gently on the top of the counter, moaning when you fixed your hands in his hair.
you swallowed down his sounds like elixir, wanted every single one of them, as his wide hands kneaded at the flesh of your hips slowly. you raked your hands down the back of neck delicately, enough to relish in the shudder left in their wake.
finally, you both pulled away, only just, only enough to slow your heaving chests, enough to selfishly see the effect you both had on the other. matching glossed over gazes, swollen lips, exhales heavy with unspoken words.
you pushed some of his hair from his face, soft under your gentle fingers, could have swooned at how he was looking at you, right now. like there was no one else in the universe, like the stars existed only for you.
"i have to go home tomorrow," you said, suddenly, like a ridiculous idiot, wanting to shove the words back into your mouth as he traced light circles across the tops of your thigh. why did you say that?
but his expression didn't change. "i'll come," he said immediately.
your heart jumped, but you didn't want him to come and see your family, really, because family gatherings never were the most flattering, for you. "you don't have to," you said, "i know you're busy, and it's just for a little bit, just for the day."
"i'll come, petal," he repeated.
your mouth quirked, just a bit. "yeah?"
"yeah," he said, a drowsy smile slanting across his face. a smile you couldn't say no to, a smile you just had to feel against your lips.
a smile that meant, the following morning, you were standing on the front step of your childhood home next to jamie, who was holding a potted plant.
"you know you didn't need to bring anything," you said after you rang the doorbell, jittery with nerves. how long had it been?
he only pinched you lightly in the side. "swear i won't drop it this time, petal," he said with the easy tone that calmed your nerves, if only slightly.
and then the door was opening, and you were ushered in among a flurry of hugs and exclamations of it having been to long.
your older brother said you looked different, your mother said you needed to visit more often. you had the sinking feeling that coming home was a mistake.
then came the inevitable. "and who's this handsome young man?" your mother asked in a sugary sweet tone that made the room smell like the dentist's office, at least to you. "is this that friend from work you told me about a while ago?"
you opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it again, slightly confused, maybe disappointed? other people's parents assumed they were dating any person they spoke to, which you were sure was its own beast, but you had actually brought someone to a family meal and your mom thought he was your coworker?
"uh," you started, struggling to find your footing. "this is jamie."
you wanted to put your forehead through the tastefully muted wallpaper of the mudroom, but jamie only shook your father's hand, endured awkward hugs from your mother and siblings, handed over his plant with practiced grace.
you felt your hands tremble ever so slightly, willed them to still, begged any courage and confidence to show itself, but your chest was tight, like your lungs were filling up with polluted water.
jamie caught your eye, registered your defensive stance, gave you a look full of softness and acceptance before stepping to your side and pulling you in for a gentle side-hug, his embrace strong and sure in all the ways you were not. he pressed his lips to the top of your head, lips you still felt the memory of on your mouth, lips that sent a shiver of stability down your spine. "much better than last time, eh, petal?" he said, looking down at you, still tucked into his side. "no dirt under your nails, this time."
you couldn't help but give a slight shake of your head, squeezed him tighter in a way you hoped said thank you.
when you looked back up to your family, there was an almost comical look of surprise in your mother's eyes, a look of extreme boredom in your siblings'.
you father cleared his throat. "brunch's ready," he said, urging your mother to lead you all to the dining room.
jamie pulled out your chair for you, leaned forward to your ear when you sat down. "look so pretty today," he whispered, his voice a low rasp, only for you, only to help you settle, only because it was the truth.
"you know, jamie, she's never brought someone home before," your mother said at some point during the meal, like it was some kind of inside joke between the two of them, a joke you were not a part of. she shared some kind of look with him, but his face was blank. "honestly, we were starting to get worried." your father and her gave light laughs, laughs that made your stomach roll with anxiety, shame.
good god, couldn't they give you a break? you pushed your food around your plate, very much not hungry, very much wanting to leave.
jamie didn't laugh, though, didn't indulge them, didn't pretend like he was in on their joke. "worried about what?" he asked, his expression and tone entirely plain and curious, waiting patiently for elaboration that never came. his question was met with flickering glances between your parents, nervous laughter dying in their mouths.
you looked down at your plate again, bit your lip to hide your smile, reached under the table to squeeze his hand. he squeezed yours right back.
the rest of the meal was fine. soon enough, you were saying your goodbyes, doling out your own awkward hugs along with vague assurances that you would be back soon.
"and it was so wonderful to meet you, jamie," your mother said, a hand on his forearm, "know you're welcome here anytime."
you pushed aside the spark of jealousy within you. what would it be like to know that for yourself? to feel welcome in this home, whenever you wanted?
jamie just looked at you with that molten softness in his dark eyes. you pushed his hair from his face, the way you had grown accustomed to doing, more a comfort to you at this point. he leaned into your touch, however slightly.
"thank you for having me," he said, politely, before looking at you once more. "'m honored to be the first person petal's felt comfortable enough to bring home."
you could have melted at how genuine he sounded, at the idea that he was honored to be around you, of all things, at all.
when you were both in the car, you turned to him. "you didn't have to say that, you know," you told him as he pulled the car out of the driveway, started the trek home.
he just kept one hand on the wheel, took yours with the other. "wanted to," he said, glancing over at you with a steadiness that was impossible to deny. "meant it."
a smile came easily to your face, a flush came easier. he lifted your hand to his mouth, lightly pressed his lips to the top of it, making you shift in your seat with poorly hidden delight, perfectly warm all over.
you arrived back home, and fell back into your routine.
jamie dropped you off at work the following day, rolling his window down when you got out the passenger door. "petal!" he called.
you turned, that grin that seemed to be every-present around him on your face. "yeah?"
the faintest of blushes began to prick at his cheeks. "can i have a kiss, please?"
you were all too willing to comply, leaning against the side of the car and pulling his lips to yours with a gentle hand on his jaw. "see you later?" you murmured against his mouth, butterflies so alive in your stomach you half believed they would fly up your throat. he nodded, a little dazed, promised to see you after your shift, as he had the day off.
the lovely dizziness began to dull as soon as you entered the coffee shop, as there was a very unexpected guest behind the counter with your friend.
"have you never even heard of a latte?" your coworker seethed, the words hard and angry through her teeth.
"feel free to call this off at any time, sugar," a smug trevor drawled, wearing an apron and a haphazardly drawn name tag.
you set your things down and began to tie your own apron around yourself. "afternoon, lovely," you greeted your friend before looking at the newcomer. "trevor."
he nodded to you with a smile in a greeting of his own before the espresso machine started making a menacing sound.
you took the next customer's order, began to prepare it. "do i wanna know why you appear to be an employee today?"
"lost a bet," he said, looking at your coworker, who grimaced.
"we agreed that if he didn't block five shots against the hawks last week, he'd work a shift," she crossed her arms over her chest. "but already this is more of a punishment for me than for him."
he turned up his smile to the megawatts.
you shook your head with a laugh. "you know this is breaking, like, a billion laws," you said, pouring soy milk into a cup. "we can't just hire randoms to work a single shift."
trevor placed a fake-offended hand over his heart. "i'm not some random," he clarified.
"according to california law, you are," you said, matter-of-factly, finishing off the drink and placing it on the pickup counter.
"oh, whatever, 11, just go," your coworker said, exasperated, "you've already messed up like twelve times in the last two hours."
he pouted, teasing like a kindergarten bully, all grown up. "you wound me, sugar," he said, turning around slowly. "untie my apron for me?"
she took off her bucket hat and whacked him with it. "don't think i've forgiven you, either," she said, pointing a warning finger at him.
"wouldn't dream of it," he cooed, taking out him phone. "haven't i earned a drink for my troubles? jimmy won't be here for another five minutes."
you scrunched up your brow. "jamie?" you groaned for him, "wish you'd called it quits like two minutes earlier. he was just here."
both your coworker and trevor whipped their heads around. "jim dropped you off?"
you nodded. your coworker gave you an impressed grin, held her hand down low for trevor to slap in a high-five. "let's go," she said, pumping her fist.
you rolled your eyes at the two of them. "so the goon squad is working together, now?" you asked.
trevor rested his elbow on the top of your friend's head, making her hiss and bat his arm away. "best team around," he said, smugly, before looking at his phone. "time to go," he stated, accepting the two drinks you pushed into his hands with a thank you. "until next time, sugar," he said, looking at your friend.
"the red line won't hurt you unless you let it," she called out behind him.
you immediately started peppering her with questions about her bet with jamie's teammate, trying to get her to admit she didn't hate him as much as she let on.
"jamie says he just thinks you're hot and doesn't know what to do about it," you told her before she went out back for her break.
she fixed you with a look. "you can tell jamie that his friend better find out what to do about it." you laughed as the door shut behind her.
the rest of your shift went by terribly slowly. it wasn't that busy, and, honestly, you really missed jamie. you had only just found out what his lips felt like on your own, after all, and now you were having a hard time thinking about anything else. no one should feel this overheated, this distracted, while trying to steep peppermint tea and froth oat milk.
too many times, you lost yourself in daydreams about what his thighs felt like underneath you, how his fingers would feel like in your mouth, what his hand would feel like, gripping your hair.
you just wanted to be close to him, as close to him as possible.
by the time your coworker was dropping you off at your apartment, your mouth was practically dry with want, and if someone were to call you desperate, you weren't sure if you would have it in you to care.
you locked the door behind you, the silence in the kitchen and mudroom telling you he was probably in his own room, probably gaming.
you could have whined, thinking you would have to wait until he was done until you could kiss him, touch him, feel him how you wanted to.
you lasted pretty much as long as it took you to change into more comfortable clothes. undeniable want had you rapping your knuckles lightly against his door, exhaling gratefully when a soft come in wafted through the air.
and then the door was open, and he was there, exactly as you had thought him to be. his headset pushed his messy hair up in different directions, his knees spread wide, his posture relaxed.
he made eye contact with you, something warm shining in his gaze as he pushed his mic away from his mouth. "hey, petal," he rasped, his voice weary with use. "you're home."
you nodded, bit your lip, twisted the sole of your foot into the ground slowly. "know you're busy," you said, soft, almost bashful, "but can i just sit with you?" you swallowed down any shakiness. "couldn't stop thinking 'bout you at work."
you knew he wouldn't laugh at you, but were splendidly pleased anyways when he simply nodded, let that smile slant across his face, opened up his arms in invitation, contentment obvious in his expression.
you breathed out and crossed the room to where he sat, lowered yourself onto his lap as he spread his legs apart wider to make you more comfortable. you crossed your legs over his thigh, leaned back into his chest, let the warmth and feeling of him envelop you like a fog. his arms came to reach around you as he kept playing, fiddling with his controller. you could have fallen asleep here, if you weren't so alert, if every inch of your body didn't feel like it was slowly catching flame.
you hummed, shifted your hips back against him, making him let out a soft grunt. "getting comfortable?" he whispered, to which you nodded, smiled, leaned your head against his chest.
you tried to stay still, watch the screen as he played, but something about feeling his breaths against your back, the heat of him pooling in your neck, the firmness of him underneath you, it made you restless, impatient.
so much so that after maybe a few minutes, you were craning your head up to press your lips lightly to his jaw, his throat, just behind his ear, twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.
he let out a groan, low and dangerous. "thought you just wanted to sit," he said, his mouth quirking up, a tightness to his voice that hadn't been there before.
"changed my mind," you mumbled into his shoulder, grazing your teeth over his deltoid.
"be patient, petal," he rumbled, "wait 'til 'm finished, hm?"
you pouted against his jaw, figured you had done months of waiting, if you counted back to that first day. more than your fair share. you were done being patient.
so, instead of waiting, like he had asked you to, you wordlessly pushed yourself from his chest, sank down to your knees into front of his chair, gently placed your palms on his thighs, forcing his attention to you.
his gaze settled on you like heavy sediment, scorching, bubbling. when he spoke, you felt it against your face like a caress. "fuck, petal, dreamt of you like this."
your smile was slight, sly. "what? on my knees for you, jamie?"
he gave an almost pained shake of his head, made some strained sound of refutation. he set his controller down and pulled off his headset, tossed it aside as you tugged at his sweatpants, rolled your hand over him, hard and hot.
he tilted his head back, groaned. "dreamt of you lookin' at me like this," he confessed, words thick with revelation, "like you want me."
something almost religious passed between you, because what was this, if not something worth worshipping? something built on devotion beyond logic, beyond better judgement?
"i do want you, jamie," you said, finality swimming in your heated tone, "i want you so, so bad."
you bit your lip to hide your grin when he whimpered at your words, his eyes screwing shut as you took him in your hand, spit onto his cock, pumped him up and down before running your tongue along the length of him, drinking in his sounds greedily.
he rooted his thick hand in your hair, draping it away from your face as you sunk your mouth down onto him. "fuck," he choked out, slow and strained, "fuck, petal, you can have me."
you moaned around him, grounded by his grip, the pleasant tug on your scalp, urged him to the back of your throat until your eyes began to water, until his thighs began to tense, before retreating again, peering up at him, eager to take every inch of him in, like this.
so unguarded and uncontrolled, knowing he was thinking only of you, pure want dripping down his frame and face like watercolor, this image of him made you acutely aware of just how wet you already were.
you tugged your hand up and down him again, grinned when he shuddered. "taste so good, jamie," you rasped, running your thumb along the tip, "'ve wanted your cock in my mouth for so long, baby."
his chest rose and fell as he moaned, desperate, overwhelmed. his thumb circled your jaw as you continued moving your hand, spitting onto him again. "should've told me, petal," he whined, "would've given you anything you wanted." his voice shook, you felt his muscles tense again as you took him in your mouth again. "waited so good for me, hm?"
you hummed, held him in your mouth, hollowed out your cheeks until tears broke your waterline, his grunts telling you he was close as you let your nails dig into the tops of his thighs.
"fuck, 'm gonna cum," he breathed, "feel so good like this, petal, too good, can't hold on." his grip in your hair tightened, his hips bucking up, hitting a deeper spot in your throat. he made to pull back, but you only moved your head with him, swallowing around him until you tasted him on your tongue, his moan resounding in your head like an organ in a cathedral.
only after he finished did you pull your mouth up off of him, tilted your head onto your elbow, which was resting on his thigh, red with marks from your clutching hands. you watched him come down from his high, watched his lashes flutter as his eyes opened, felt his grip loosen in your hair and his hand come down to rest under your chin, as gentle and affectionate a touch as you had ever felt.
he led your mouth to his, lifting you off of your knees, slanting his lips across yours like a smile before pulling away, looking at you for a moment, tracing your mouth with his thumb. "look so pretty like this, petal," he praised, low and steady, "so fuckin' perfect."
and you blushed, because you knew how you looked.
you knew that your face was flushed with exertion, knew that spit ran down onto your chin, knew that your lashes were clumped together with tears, knew that your lips with swollen and your neck shone with sweat.
he kissed the corner of your mouth anyways, looked at you like there had never been anything more beautiful. "let me taste you, hm?" he murmured against your skin.
you shivered with pleasure at his words, but whined. "need you so bad, jamie," you pleaded, "need you inside of me." you peered up at him through your lashes. "please?"
he shifted until you hovered above him, tugged your shorts aside, ran his fingers through your folds and cursed at how wet he found you. "anything you want, petal," he rasped, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking you off of them. "fuck, pretty girl, askin' me so nicely, hm?"
you nodded feverishly, reached under you to find him impossibly hard, again, before angling him to you and sinking down onto him, your knees on either side of his hips.
his head fell back at that first feeling, your mouth dropping open as your body pulled taut at the stretch. you whimpered when he reached behind you to pull you to his chest, changing the angle, while he shifted under you, both of you breathing heavy, searching for something to stop you from floating away.
you settled on letting your heavy head drop to his neck, letting shaky exhales escape past your teeth, melt into his collarbone like snowflakes on windowpanes.
he clutched at your waist, began to slowly move his hips, lifting you up and down in a rhythm that burned behind your eyes, that you felt on your tongue, in your toes.
"how do you feel like this?" he whispered, practically to himself, as if in a dream, as he kept up his pace, slow and brutal.
"like what, baby?" you breathed, picking your head up and beginning to fuck back onto him with more force, wanting to feel him harder, deeper.
"fuck," he whimpered, searching for an answer, his messy hair falling into his face, sticking to the gloss of sweat shining on his brow, "better than i imagined, petal. so perfect, made for me."
you moaned at his admission, reached around his neck for support. "been thinkin' 'bout me, jamie?" you asked, an almost cocky grin peeking through.
"so much," he whined, picking up his pace now, causing you to choke down a strangled moan, "fuck, petal, was worried you'd hear me through the walls."
his confession shot right to your core as you clenched around him, imagining him trying to keep quiet, touching himself, thinking of you. you dug your nails into the back of his neck as he laid a hand across your stomach, pressed down until he could feel the outline of himself inside of you, moving in and out.
the sensation was so intense that you had to shut your eyes, the pressure inside of you pulling so tightly you bit your tongue.
"like that, hm?" he said, only the faintest trace of smugness in his tone. "like that i thought of you with my hand around my cock, petal?"
you nodded, moaned your affirmation, felt yourself grow so deliciously close.
"thought of you, just like this," he breathed into your neck, still pushing at your stomach, hitting somewhere impossibly deep inside you, hard and fast. "squeezing me so perfect, making those pretty sounds for me."
"'m so close, jamie," you pleaded, your voice wrecked, your jaw aching, "please make me cum? need you so bad, been needin' you for so long."
his neck tensed under your palm as his thrusts grew sporadic, his breathing labored. "fuck, petal, cum on my cock, yeah?" his other hand gripped your hip so hard you knew it would leave a mark. "been such a good girl for me."
you came apart at his words, collapsing onto his chest, clenching down on him so completely that he reached another high, warm and absolute. he stilled, both of your chests rising and falling against each other. you ran your fingers soothingly over the back of his neck, he rubbed circles into the sides of your hips as if in a daze.
finally, when the fog cleared like falling rain, you pulled back to look at his face, flushed, long lashes framing heavy lids, his gaze thick and syrupy with affection.
you lightly swept the damp hair from his forehead, pressed a gentle kiss to his brow that made him smile up at you lazily.
he ran his thumb along your cheekbone. "wanna stay in my room, tonight?" he asked, cheekily, like you were kids planning a sleepover, scheming up the best way to ask your parents.
so you just nodded and laughed, and he kissed the laugh from your lips as if it tasted of sugar.
fin.
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luxaofhesperides · 2 months
Note
Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.
So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.
Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?
(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)
Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time. 
They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.
Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.
“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.
The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”
“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”
“You know about them?”
“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”
The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”
“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”
The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”
Dash. 
Dash. That’s a name he recognizes. 
Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.
It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.
And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.
Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!
And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful. 
There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.
He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.
So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on. 
He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay. 
Too late for that now, though.
“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”
Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue. 
It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.
“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”
Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”
That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases. 
He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud. 
The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.
“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”
Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”
“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”
“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”
“So how did you end up in Gotham?”
“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”
Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”
“What do you think I can do?”
“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”
Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”
“What are you planning?”
“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”
“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”
And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him.  He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.
In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it. 
Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast. 
One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.
They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows. 
By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest. 
Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.
The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.
As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled. 
Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice. 
The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk. 
Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.
The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human. 
Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave. 
He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?
Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.
Danny.
All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep. 
“Hello?”
There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”
“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”
“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”
From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.
“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”
Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”
Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”
“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”
“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”
“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.
“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”
“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”
Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”
“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”
“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”
Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”
“That’s me, baby!”
The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.
“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”
The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety. 
He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.
“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”
He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny. 
Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.
Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.
Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.
Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist. 
One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow. 
Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.
He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.
When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.
His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.
Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest. 
“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep. 
Danny hums and doesn’t move.
“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”
“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”
A good argument. Duke is also sleepy. 
“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”
“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”
He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”
That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him. 
This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.
Danny makes everything worth it.
(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)
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