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ncteez · 1 year

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Oh no, he’s hot (k.m.g)

The first time you drove your very trashed best friend home was because you had a crush on him. All the times you drove him home after that were because…well, his dad is sexy.

or the one where you have tension with your crush’s dad at four in the morning and maybe secretly fuck while said crush is asleep on the couch.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.

WORDCOUNT― 8.9k

PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader

CONTENT― there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, bottom(ish) mingyu, top(ish) reader, desperate smutty stuff, mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her early 20s (in other words, age gaps be damned, you’re both adults.)

OTHER CHARACTERS― chan is his son and ur just gonna have to deal with that for the sake of having no unnamed characters

WARNINGS― Mingyu has an internal war over wanting you because his son also wants you. Another thing, this is entirely consenting, but mingyu does mention to stop and/or wait at one point while clearly acting against his own words.

NOTE― So uh, this fic is kind of a push and pull between morality and fucking because you’re horny. There’s some backhanded stuff about Chan but ill make it up to him in a future fic, i swear. Anyway, behold, the unedited dilf mingyu fic.

smut tags under cut::

― part two here!

smut tags―his brain is between his legs in this fic, BIG DICK MINGYU, grinding(ish), masturbation, handjob, neck kissing/sucking, groping, pet names: babe & sweetheart, face riding, dirty talk, unprotected sex (just assume they’re protected somehow at this point), he’s technically the one doing the fucking but he’s very in tune with her pleasure, missionary, g-spot stimulation and deep penetration

The first time you met Kim Mingyu was an unfortunate event. One where his son was seeing three of you and four of his dad as you struggled to get him up the steps of the porch. It’s not that Chan purposely stayed out past curfew, and it’s definitely not that he forgot his gate code or his dorm keys, it’s just that he really needed a friend to get him to his dad’s house. It wasn’t out of the way, Chan promised you that, even as you drove a full ten minutes across the city line to get him to safety. At first, you didn’t mind and preferred to spend more time with him anyway, but then it was even more worth the drive. Especially after meeting his father and realizing that he’s, to put it bluntly, just as hot as Chan. If not, more.

The second, third, and fourth time you met Kim Mingyu was much the same on the outside. Internally though, each time you met him threw you further and further into a specific thought process. One that felt taboo. You’ve never felt anything towards the parent of a friend, better yet the parent of a crush. Until now, at least, especially with the way Mingyu looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice.

It’s not that you think Chan’s dad would consider you an option, the smallest possibility of that is definitely not the reason why you volunteer to take his rowdy ass home either. Before it was because you wanted to spend more time with the guy you possibly were trying to date. Now? You won’t admit the reasoning. If anything, it’s because the older man has a kind face and thanks you each time for bringing Chan home to him rather than leaving him on the lawn of some frat house.

The fact that all of this started because you had a crush on Chan was insane enough. Now look at you, going to frat parties with him, no longer to get closer per se, but so you can take him to his childhood home despite him not forgetting his dorm keys anymore.

It’s the latest you’ve ever brought him this time, nearing four in the morning as you drag his clumsy self up his front porch as he hums the tune to your favorite song at you.

“I told you,” Chan slurs through his humming, stopping you from knocking on the door and leaning his weight on you even more. “I have my keys this time. Why are we at my dad’s house again?”

You shake your head at him, adjusting your body better to accommodate his dead weight on your right side.

“Curfew. Do you want to be written up for a noise complaint again?” You look at him, watching him tilt his head and remove himself from your side to stand in front of you in an immaculate show of how uncoordinated he can be.

“You take such good care of me,” He slurs again, smiling at you from under his messy fringe and struggling to adjust his eyes to meet yours properly. “Y’know, Soonyoung said you have a crush on me–”

You cut him off, stepping forward and knocking against the door as loudly as you can to avoid the fact that you might’ve had a crush on him before, and perhaps you still do. It’s just– his dad, y’know?

“Why’re you ignoring me?” He smiles again, leaning lazily against the door frame as you knock.

Honestly, on any other day, you’d probably be blushing. You’d be floored by Chan being so forward toward you, especially in his cute drunken state with his sparkling eyes and stupid messy hair. It’s no wonder you have–had– a crush on him. With a face like that, a voice like that, a body like that, a dad like that.

“I’d rather talk about this when you’re sober, Chan.” You deadpan, knocking again and wondering if it’s taking his dad a while to get out of bed because it’s too early in the morning to be handling a drunk son.

Chan looks at you for several seconds with his crooked and lazy smile, nodding to you and blinking out of sync. You do think he’s charming, even like this. It’s a shame, really, that you can hear the door unlocking because you probably would have grabbed his face and kissed him at that moment. Mingyu be damned. Even more of a shame that your variable crush on him fizzles out the second you see his father time and time again.

Mingyu stands there behind that thin layer of glass with his sweat pants sitting low on his hips, shirt nowhere to be seen, with a face of both disappointment in Chan and sleepy fondness towards you. On instinct, you remember the first time you saw him and every time after that. No matter the change of lighting, time of night, or the way he has his hair– he never looks to be old enough to be Chan’s father. To put it bluntly, Mingyu doesn’t appear to be any older than his mid-twenties. Still, any sane person would be chasing after his son, much like you were but, here you are, wanting nothing more than to chase after the forty-something-year-old father of a cute drunken idiot.

Chan watches you stare at his dad but isn’t quite sure if it means anything because his drunken brain is telling him that you’re just tired or something. Still, he leans from the frame and immediately clings to you, his state offering little to hide the feelings he’s grown towards you. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt his nose nuzzle against your neck, with his alcohol-scented breath blowing against the skin there. You struggle to not lean into him.

Mingyu opens the door upon seeing Chan acting like a fool in love, much like he would have done at his age in the same state of bliss with a pretty girl by his side.

“Chan is very drunk again,” You laugh apologetically, looking away from the Mingyu and feeling Chan’s hands grip your waist as he hugs you. You try not to think too hard about his hands gripping you too, mostly because he’s never actually been this forward or clingy towards you. Truly, if he had done this before meeting Mingyu, and without being absolutely trashed, you’d probably already have asked to be his girlfriend or gone down on him, at the very least.

“Should I lead him to the couch?”

Mingyu nods, looking at you with a gentle smile, well aware of the fact that you bring Chan here for reasons other than giving his son a place to lay his head. He knows Chan keeps his keys on him now, and he’s known since the second time you dropped him off. Especially considering he scolds him every morning after a drunken party, and each time, Chan proves that his keys were with him. He also knows his son well enough to see when he takes a liking to a girl, the issue is that you make it very very obvious that you’re more interested in him rather than Chan. Which is flattering, incredibly cute, equally as dangerous, and such a fucking shame for his son.

Here’s the thing. Mingyu is a good person with a stable head on his shoulders. He’s a good father, a hard worker, and a gentle soul, but he gets horny just like any other man. Unfortunately, when a woman who he finds attractive, even if he swears he isn’t interested, starts throwing signals his way– it’s hard to ignore them and even harder to control himself when he hasn’t so much as gone on a date with another woman in at least a year. Much like his son, maybe he’s taken the tiniest liking to you too. To make himself feel better though, he swears it’s because he’s proud of his son for finding such a pretty girl that puts up with him.

After all, he would never sleep with a woman that his son is fond of. Even when you look at him the way you do, even when you bend over in front of him for a second too long, making it obvious that you like it when his eyes land on your ass. Mingyu’s got wisdom in terms of bedroom eyes, and he would be terribly mistaken if the way you look at him wasn’t exactly that. It started eating him up inside from the second time you stepped foot in his house, and shamefully– he’s maybe thought about you in ways that he shouldn’t. Not only does Chan seem to be around you a lot, but you’re the same age as his son.

Of course, he feels bad. He feels like a pervert and a creep when he finds himself warming up at the way you look at him. Then he thinks hard enough about it to wonder where things could lead if he were to be selfish for once. It’s hard to find you attractive, especially when you appear to make excuses to stare at him. When he’s in his head about it, usually for several hours after you’ve dropped Chan off, he thinks about how you’re both adults and you are not obligated to cater to Chan, nor are you obligated to cater to him. You are a whole person with your own interests, and if your interest happens to be him– and if he happens to take an interest in you too, wouldn’t that just be two consenting adults? The dilemma of Chan liking you is what fucks with his head.

Tonight, it’s even worse and it’s becoming more and more difficult to brush you off or avert his eyes. Again, he would not ever sleep with a woman that his son is interested in but, he happens to be a bit touch-starved and you happen to be flaunting yourself at him. So, he’s allowed to at least, like, think about it, right?

“Ah,” Mingyu scratches the back of his neck with one hand and takes a step to the side to let you in. His shirtless body warms up when your eyes continuously scan him. You appear more interested each time you come by, and he can’t help but think that this is already reaching dangerous territory. There’s a clear reason why you keep coming to his house, using his son as an excuse to play innocent.

“That should be comfortable enough,” he comments in a sleep-shrouded rasp, watching you plop his son down on the couch. He closes the front door and grabs a lap blanket from the back of the couch to throw over him to help get him situated. “More comfortable than the bed in his dorm, I'm sure.”

“Ah, his shoes.” You comment to yourself, pulling at Chan’s laces and slipping his shoes off of him before lifting back up and preparing to head to the door. The visit to look at Mingyu is always only five to ten minutes, but you enjoy the ogling session nonetheless.

“Hey,” Chan slurs out, reaching out and pulling at your arm. “It’s pretty late, just crash here with me…”

You stumble a bit, losing your balance and landing against him, but you’re quick to pull yourself back up with a laugh. God, why does he have to be the one with a hot dad? Why couldn’t he have done all of this before? Why do you have to be single and ready to mingle with a man twice your age because of Chan?

As you stand back to your feet, you look at him as his heavy eyes start to close despite the shenanigans he just pulled. He’s already falling asleep and surely he won’t remember this by morning, so you gently back away with a soft shake of your head before heading for the door and placing his shoes on the rack there.

“He’s right.” Mingyu manages to say, stepping in front of the door and crossing his arms. He’s a bit unsure of why he’s offering this but ultimately plays it off. It’s not because he’s trying to play cupid and hook you up with his son either. Selfishly, it’s because he wouldn’t mind you staring at him for a bit longer.

“It’s already too late, and I’m aware that your campus is a bit of a drive…” He trails off, trying to not act exactly like Chan towards you.

You pause, noting that you were about to immediately agree despite rejecting his son’s offer. Looking at Mingyu, with his broad shoulders and sharp jaw, you shake your head much like before, hoping that he offers again so you can pretend to not seem so excited.

“Maybe I shouldn’t, I still need to shower and I don’t have anything to change into–” You try to make excuses, but he shakes his head, putting his hands out in a defensive kind of way.

“No, no. I insist. It’s not safe, I’m sure I’ve got something lying around that you can put on for the night, there are extra toothbrushes too.”

Well, you’re not gonna fucking argue that.

“Okay,” You offer a soft nod and a smile, stepping away from the door and looking to the floor. You feel elated right now. “Where’s the bathroom then?”

Mingyu, for some reason, is trembling as he suddenly feels entirely naked in front of you even with his thick sweatpants covering the bits. He smiles back at you, reaching out as if you should grab his hand.

In reality, it was just to be polite but you did grab his hand. He panics a little because your hands are so fucking soft and warm, and god it’s been way too long since he’s looked at a woman this way. Such a fucking shame that Chan likes you, he knows he can’t be thinking like this.

Mingyu reluctantly leads you down the hallway to the bathroom, softly and quietly pointing out the towels and extra tooth brushes before stepping out and immediately walking away. You didn’t get to inquire about said pajamas he was going to offer to you, and in all honesty, he definitely forgot the second he realized that he was thinking too hard right now.

He stands against the closed door of his room until he hears the water in the bathroom start and the shower curtain closing. That’s when he realizes he forgot to get you those fucking pajamas and curses under his breath before rushing out of the room and towards the laundry room. He’s sure he has some of Chan’s clothes here that he’s always leaving behind.

Thankfully, he finds a pair of boxers and a ratty old t-shirt stretched out far past its original sizing. He’s sure this will do fine as he hastily grabs them and heads toward the bathroom again.

He stands outside of the door frozen, unsure of if he should knock or just leave them at the door. His brain is running a mile a minute at how to navigate thinking intimate things about you behind that shower curtain. Naked. The fact that you’ll be putting on his son’s clothes, probably without panties because you appeared to have made a point that you needed to change out of tonight’s clothes– oh god. There it is. There’s the shameful arousal he’s been fighting since the second time you brought Chan home.

The water turns off after several minutes of him standing there, and he can hear the shower curtain move as you step out and presumably dry off.

The softest of knocks known to man can be heard on your side of the door and that’s when you, yourself, get pulled out of your thoughts of Mingyu stepping inside this bathroom and wrapping your legs around him. As you look around, you should probably ask about those pajamas, and surely that’s Mingyu on the other side of this door knocking like the most polite man in the universe.

It’s dangerous, really. For Mingyu to be feeling this desperate for the touch of an attractive woman, whoever it may be, and you on the other side of this door desperate to touch him. You wonder if he will reject your advances, or if he will at least pick up a hint or two. You wonder if you’re about to put his clothes on you and if you’ll be able to smell him on you when you intentionally go home in them tomorrow after you wake up.

You creak the door open, holding the towel loosely against you as you make eye contact with him. You’re confident enough to seduce a man, but seducing Mingyu is new ground for you. Will your usual antics work on an older man? Guess you’ll find out, because right now is a better time than any.

He’s still shirtless, his sweatpants seem to be sitting lower on his hips now too. You can’t help it when you trail your eyes down, shamelessly taking in his image before meeting his eye again with a sly smile.

That little smile kind of solidifies it for him. The look on your face is easily recognizable to him, considering he’s seen it time and time again back before he had an entire child with someone. So, he pushes the door open a bit more, smelling the soapy scent of what you used to wash with before immediately taking a step back as you take the clothes from him. It’s not that he wouldn’t step inside and make advances on you, but he’s really trying to control his urges right now. Simply because his son likes you.

“They’re Chan’s,” he comments shortly, his own eyes trailing down without intention and watching a water droplet fall from the dip of your shoulder to seep into the towel loosely hiding your chest. “That's all I could find.”

You watch him stand there, despite having taken a step back from the doorway, he appears to be planted in place without hiding the way his eyes take you in more than they ever have. You’re purposely holding this towel against you in a revealing way for him. So, you’re feeling pretty good that it seems to be working, and he’s even picking up on your energy toward him.

“Oh,” you finally say, looking down at the clothes in your hands. “I thought you were going to give me something of yours to wear.”

Mingyu swallows hard. He was almost going to ask if you’d prefer to wear his clothes, but he controls himself yet again.

“Ah, I didn’t want Chan to think anything.”

You perk up at that comment, playing off of it.

“What do you mean?” You ask with a playful tone to your voice. “You’d just be helping me sleep comfortably like a good host.” You smile as you keep eye contact with him now.

“Ah, well,” He laughs awkwardly with you, now imagining you in his clothes. The arousal only grows at the image of you in one of his old ratty shirts rather than his son’s. This is not okay though, he cannot be thinking these things while you’re less than a foot away from him with just that loose towel covering you.

You notice his lack of words after that, so you trail your eyes down again to see if you’re truly the only one here considering things to do that Chan would find suspicious. He’s so broad, honestly, he’s big enough that he could trap you against the bathroom counter behind you and have his way with ease.

“Are you,” You pause for a moment, narrowing your eyes before glancing up at his eyes again, “turned on?”

Mingyu freezes only for a moment before putting his hands in front of himself and turning away from you while whispering a small apology.

“Sorry, it’s not intentional,” he goes to say, feeling his cheeks warm up at the fact that you so bluntly asked him such a thing. “I’m gonna–” he doesn’t even finish his sentence before he points to his room with his thumb, rushes down the hallway, and closes the door behind him.

You’re left standing there in silence with Chan’s clothing in your hands. You slowly back yourself into the bathroom and get dressed with a mischievous smile on your face, opting to leave your clothes in his laundry just to try and be sneaky in order to have a reason to stop by on your own next time.

By the time you exit the bathroom after brushing your teeth, you’re left wondering if you should squeeze up against Chan and actually just crash here, or if you should go cause more tension with his dad, who is very clearly still awake in his bedroom because you can hear his television in there. Unsure of if you’ve crossed a line or not, your confidence is at an all time high after seeing him apologize for getting hard while looking at you. Clearly, you’re not tired, definitely not after that. He appears to be taking an interest and yes, you’re gonna see just how interested he is.

Taking a deep breath, you pad down the hallway and knock gently at his bedroom door. You think up any excuse to give him when he creaks the door open, but thankfully you didn’t have to try too hard.

“Where should I sleep?” You ask in mock-shyness, rubbing your thighs together and noting that he appears to be slightly out of breath.

Mingyu, mid-jerk off session, was not expecting you to actually keep approaching him. He is entirely too weak now, as if he wasn’t already. He still has precum against his palm when he opens his door, and you’re standing there staring up at him with damp skin and his son’s loose ass shirt hanging over your legs– jesus.

“Um,” Mingyu clears his throat, looking down the hallway and listening for any sound that could indicate his son was awake, “Where ever you want?” He calms himself with the silence, wanting nothing more than to sink back into his bedsheets and release himself of these filthy thoughts of you.

“In here then.” You boldly state, pressing a palm against his door and staring directly at the wet spot against his hastily pulled-up sweatpants.

“Wait, hold on,” Mingyu whispers as he stops you from opening his door any further. “What are you trying to do?”

He didn’t expect you to actually answer that question.

“I thought I made that obvious?” You admit, now feeling your confidence break a bit because you really thought he was also sending signals.

“You did, but I can’t just let this happen.” Mingyu follows up with his own admittance, noting the way your face falls, and instantly he feels fucking bad about it. A face so pretty shouldn’t be looking so defeated by a mere rejection out of pure moral stance, he really shouldn’t say anything more.

He watches as you slowly nod, accepting his rejection and preparing to turn around and probably get in your car to go home. Against his better judgment and allowing his weakness to take hold, he speaks up again.

“Wait, wait, it’s not that I wouldn’t,” You perk right back up as he talks. “I just– I can’t do that to him.”

“Do what to him?” You tilt your head at him, lifting your palm back to his door to try and press it open again, shockingly, he lets you this time. “He and I aren’t dating, he’s never even tried anything with me when he’s sober.”

Mingyu thinks hard about this now, stepping back from his door and knowing for a fact that the moment you step into his room it’s over for him. He didn’t expect you to be like this, but god it’s doing something for him. Are you this forward towards his son, or would you be this forward toward him if he actually made a sober move on you? No, no. He shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, with the way you’re clearly trying to come onto him.

“That isn’t the point, I’m not that kind of person.” Mingyu tries to argue, eyes boring holes through you with lust that doesn’t match his argument at all.

You don’t want to push him if he’s genuinely not wanting to do this with you, but god, you’ve imagined this far more than you’d like to admit.

“Would you though? If the circumstances were different?”

Mingyu appears to be totally lost at this point, standing there as he watches you step through his doorway, looking so….touchable in his son’s clothes.

“Fuck, yeah.” He sighs out this time, blatantly staring you down before realizing what he just said, and he struggles to take back the words.

You watch as his sweatpants move along with the twitch of his length beneath, and you do little to sway his break of control. If anything, you make it harder by stepping closer to him.

“If I asked you to touch me right now, would you?” You ask him, closing the distance and practically feeling his warmth pull you in.

If he wasn’t in the middle of pleasuring himself when you knocked, he would be able to turn you away, but he was so fucking close. And now you’re actually in this room with him, much like he was imagining.

“I shouldn’t,” He whispers in defeat, all while his hand reaches out to yours and trails it straight to his clothed cock. “This is not something I should want to do–”

You feel him twitch under your palm, warm from his arousal. You wonder if he was in here thinking about you before you knocked.

“Were you jerking off to me?” You ask bluntly, squeezing him and watching the way he releases a sigh before his eyes fall back onto yours, darker than before.

“Close the door.” He says, ignoring your question and stepping past his own boundary line.

Even when you pull away from him with a wicked smirk, his hips chase your palm until it’s out of reach and you’re silently closing his door. You approach him quickly this time, reaching between his legs without a hint of fear as you squeeze around him to make him release a sigh similar to the one before.

“Were you?” You ask again, jerking your hand up a bit and feeling the thickness of him, rubbing your legs together once again. This is really happening this time, and it was almost too easy.

Mingyu nods shamefully, reaching to grab your wrist and halt its movements.

“Wait,” He warns, throwing his head back for a moment with a frustrated groan. He’s arguing with himself in his head, sending mixed signals of what he wants and then immediately pulling back. “I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

You pause, looking at him and the way he rolls his head forward to look at you again. You say nothing and your hand remains halted against his length as he makes a mental list of the pros and cons of this situation. It’s entirely silent, and you smile when he bucks his hips up against your palm, seemingly making a decision.

“Shit,” he groans with a breathy chuckle, rubbing himself against you. You can see his bicep flex as he holds your hand there, and you honestly expected him to be more in control of his body. Somehow, it’s far more sexy to see him fight himself over you.

“Let me,” you comment gently, trying to move your hand and feeling the way he relaxes under it with another low rumble of a moan. “I want to.”

He’s already crossed his moral line, and the guilt that could come from this is replaced with arousal. The thoughts he had of you from before all could come true at this moment, and possibly only happen just this once.

Mingyu’s eyes are drawn to your hand against him and he bucks his hips towards the warmth on instinct. It feels so good to be touched by someone other than himself. He’s going to let himself have you, just this once. Hopefully, Chan won’t find out, and hopefully, this won’t happen again.

Your hand moves so gently over his length that despite barely feeling it through the thick sweatpants, it somehow sends shivers down his spine. He can’t keep his hips from moving, and he can’t stop breathing out little sounds because it genuinely feels like he’s fucking melting at your touch. Sure, it would probably be this way if anyone were to touch him like this after so long of being alone, but the fact that it’s you… for some reason has his head spinning. Out of anyone on this planet that he should be doing this with, it’s you.

You switch between watching his face to watching his hips. A man so broad and intimidating in stature is acting much like an inexperienced man being touched for the first time, and it’s throwing you for a loop. Just a little bit. After imagining him pinning you down, tearing you apart, and talking down to you so many times– it’s a bit of a shock seeing him do everything but that.

The look in his eyes is reluctant but his hips move with purpose against your hand. It’s cute. Watching him somehow seem so composed but unraveling all at once over your hand alone is something you’ve never experienced, so you were more than happy to snake your hand under the waistband of his sweats and watch him shiver at the sensation.

When you feel the warmth between his legs and the slippery beads of precum dripping out of him, it was easy to grasp him and imagine the weight of his cock inside of you. That alone blew your pupils out as you stare up at him, learning the ways in which he prefers to get touched.

His hips don’t stop moving towards you, and even at this angle of simply standing in front of him, you can feel the desperate force behind his movements. It’s so insanely hot to be doing this with Mingyu at all that you think you’d accept just about anything from him at this point.

It only took less than a minute of jerking him off beneath those sweats when he dips his head down. You can feel his breath against you, fanning against your chin until it’s replaced with his hand, skewing your head away so that he can attach his lips directly to your neck.

God, it’s something he’s doing. Holding you there, breathing heavily as his tongue swipes your pulse point with little muffled sighs as your hand grips and squeezes him. You can feel his hips continue to speed up, fucking into the circle your fingers make around him. For a solid moment there, you thought you were dreaming, but his raspy voice pulls you from that idea, planting you back in reality.

“I’ve thought about this a few times,” he whispers, kissing his way to the other side of your neck. “Have you?”

You nod, feeling more pre-cum drip from him. Your hand glides up and down his length perfectly as he moves his hips in sync, laying sloppy and breathy kisses just below your ear.

“I’ve thought about this since the first day I saw you,” you admit, leaning your head back a bit to try and get him to look at you, “I didn’t imagine you being this big though, Mr.Kim.”

Mingyu does pull back at the name, his lips slack and puffy as he looks at you with disapproval.

“Mm, don’t call me that, sweetheart. Mingyu is fine,” he pauses as you nod to him, and winces a bit at the way your fingers tease the head of his cock so beautifully. He has to breathe through his nose to keep himself from shoving you to the floor and spreading you open on him. “I’m not turned on because of a power dynamic–” He admits with a sigh.

“Oh?” You question, pressing yourself up against him and gaining a new angle for your wrist to begin flicking around his length. “Why are you doing it then?”

You are curious as to why he’s found an interest in you, though you refuse to question it. If it’s like it is in porn, where it’s strictly the age gap or the idea of having the power of another, so be it. It appears though, that Mingyu has other reasons.

“Because I want to know how you sound when you’re drenching my cock and saying my name.”

Oh, there’s the Mingyu you imagined so many times before. Saying filthy things already, making your legs feel like jelly at the sheer image of him letting you drench him. You felt those words hit you right in the core. Your entire body tenses out of pleasure. You’re fucking tingling, and instantly pressing him forward to see if he really meant what he said.

Mingyu isn’t used to talking dirty these days though, but he can see the way you react to those words. Being led to his own bed by you says enough about how that made you feel.

When he falls back on the bed, you see the way his darkened pupils overtake the fond smile on his lips, and when you pull your hand from his pants and try to crawl on top of him, it confuses you when he stops you.

You look down at him, tilting your head in question before he speaks.

“Take his clothes off first, I want to see you,” he mumbles, his own hands rubbing down his abs and his fingers tucking under his own sweats.

You nod, backing yourself up and sliding Chan’s boxers down your legs. You watch the way Mingyu watches you, seemingly treating this like a show as he slips his hand under his sweats and resumes to himself what you had been doing for him before. The hidden movement under those sweats ignites a fire inside of you, the reality of Mingyu pleasuring himself to you taking off his son’s clothes hits you so fucking hard. You feel desired by a man that shouldn’t desire you, and it makes you feel so fucking sexy.

He’s watching you hard and even lets a small and choked-out moan fall from his lips when you begin to lift the shirt off of you.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you,” he compliments, blatantly squeezing his palm around the base of his length and imagining that it’s you sinking down on him. “Come here.”

As he reaches his free hand out to invite you on top of it, the words he said make you buckle into a world of shyness. You almost want to hide your face from his fond and darkened eyes, especially as he continues to palm against himself even as if you sit on his thighs.

You watch the movements under his sweats until your eyes are torn from the act, his warm hand pressing you up further and then guiding your face down to his. There, you expect to share a kiss with him, but he just ghosts his lips over yours, eyes falling into a half-lidded look. Your own eyes flutter closed, parting your lips for him– but instead of feeling him kiss you, you only feel his words come out in sighed mumbles.

“How do you feel about feeling my tongue on you?” he whispers, flexing his arm at your side as he fucks into his own fist harder now that he has you on top of him.

You open your eyes to look at him, noting his dazed smile, pupils blown under those half-closed lids. You’ve never ridden a man’s face before, despite having been eaten out several times. You’re a little nervous, but he nods an encouragement out to you as he attempts to guide you further up.

“Don’t be shy, babe. I want to taste you,” he pauses to look at your face, trying to show that you can say no, even with your pussy already nearing where he wants it to be. “Yeah?”

You give him a shy nod, scooting up until you’re sitting on his chest and leaning back a bit. You’re trying to remain confident enough to do it yourself, but he continues to guide you, all the way until you’re propping yourself up with your knees on either side of his head. You can feel his eyelashes flutter against your thighs when you hover, and he starts kissing the flesh there, giving you no reason to feel embarrassed at all. It feels almost ticklish, and it makes your legs shake at the sensation.

As he continues to kiss against your thighs, you can feel his free hand move to grope your ass, spreading you open just a bit and rocking you just inches from his mouth. The pressure of waiting to feel his tongue on you is one thing, but feeling his big hand guide you to sit a little closer had you obeying instantly.

Still trying to remain confident, you look down between your legs and can only see the mess of hair fanned against his mattress, you kind of love the image. Knowing that it’s his face down there, and that’s his tongue working its way on your thigh and closer to your core. You jolt slightly when you feel the warm muscle tease at your folds, flicking gently before his hand begins to rock you against it, encouraging you to grind.

You’re very reluctant at first, even upon feeling his tongue travel to your clit when he guides your hips back. It’s only when he leans his head up a bit to close any amount of space between his mouth and your pussy, that you release a shaky moan. His tongue circled your clit before sucking hard against it, and it really did make it difficult not to sit harder against him.

Within seconds of that little sound, you hear the snap of his sweats against his abdomen and you feel both of his hands grasping at your ass. You’re seeing stars instantly when he presses you down all the way and instantly begins to part your pussy with his tongue, grinding you harshly against his mouth until he’s the one sending vibrations of moans through you.

He lifts you up momentarily after a moment just to look at your pussy over him, and rolls his eyes back in an even filthier-sounding moan.

“Do you even know how wet you are?” He asks, staring directly at the way your pussy pulsates above him. “Had no idea you wanted me this bad.”

Mingyu doesn’t even let you answer, flattening his tongue before licking a long stripe up your slit and forcing you to sit against him again with those strong hands. He moans again through your sigh of a response, unable to speak as he guides your body on him. His tongue is working wonders on you, causing your head to spin at the way he flicks his tongue against your hole before swirling it all the way up to your clit over and over again. No part of your core feels neglected, and the sensations he’s giving you is something you want to cling to.

For him, he wants nothing more than for you to use this to your advantage. He wants nothing more than for you to grind against his tongue and force the taste of you on him until he never forgets the feeling of your pussy on his lips. But this. This is enough, especially compared to how bold you were being before. Feeling your legs shake around his head only drives him to keep going. He wants to hear you, taste you, feel you. He wants you to know what it’s like to have a real man pleasure you.

He opts this time to grind your pussy forward until his nose is nuzzled against your clit and his tongue is teasing your entrance and he leaves you that way. Frantically moving his hand back to his cock and letting out a filthy groan against you as he finally gains his own friction again. You barely notice, feeling jolts of pleasure shoot through your body as you grind without intention this time, chasing the feeling in the same way he was guiding you.

When you do that, you feel him nod with a growl before slipping his tongue into you and tasting the way your walls clench even that. He sounds filthy and the fact that he seems to really enjoy that you’re doing this? It only drives you to actually ride his face, sliding back and forth, fucking yourself against his tongue until you slide all the way back just to see his face.

“Am I hurting you?” You ask, your pussy clenching at the image of him.

He doesn’t respond and instead looks at you with a face driven by arousal, his tongue dipping back into his mouth to taste, then sticking it out again for you to continue your pleasure on. When you don’t, he shakes his head and clears his throat a bit, attempting to answer you.

“Fuck, no. You could go harder sweetheart, come on.” He urges you, moving his hand faster against himself when you shyly blink at him, hovering your core above him just enough for him to lift his head and do it himself at your reluctance.

He frantically licks against you in a way that he’s never done before. Tongue slipping in and out of every crease and crevice to taste the entirety of you before fucking his tongue in once again when your weak grinds allow it. You watch his head move between your legs and you do your best to commit this image to your memory. You really get to sit on this man’s face, and he’s really just— fucking going insane for it like this?

Moaning out once again, you can feel your legs shake each time his nose bumps your clit, and you clench around his tongue each time he tries to essentially fuck you that way. It’s a lot, and god you’ve never been with a man who eats pussy like this. The way he moans through it, the way you can feel his arm jerking himself off, the way he occasionally tries to look up at you.

“Mingyu, I–” you try to say, letting your legs buckle and sitting flush against his tongue again, resuming the weak grinds you had offered before. “You should stop, before I–”

He taps your leg, causing you to lift a bit before he speaks out in an even raspier voice.

“Do it. On my tongue.” He pleads without letting you answer, shoving you by your ass directly back onto his mouth and somehow, licking you with even more pressure.

You can feel him nod when you jerk your hips on him, his free hand guiding you back and forth in a harsher way. His tongue fucks into you a few more times before he’s holding you in place, attaching his lips to your clit, and sucking so hard against it that you feel that wave of pleasure hit you like a bag of bricks.

He made it happen so fast, legs squeezing around his head as you jolt and stutter against his tongue that flattens out and bumps your clit. You hold yourself there, swirling your hips and drenching his mouth entirely. You clench around nothing, orgasming solely from clit stimulation and it makes your ears pop and ring as you work through it.

And by the time you’re done, you panic. Is he okay? You’re sure you squeezed his head with your legs too tightly, you sat too hard, and you rutted against his tongue until he couldn’t breathe.

Quickly, you slide off of his face, feeling embarrassed and quite frankly, apologetic that you did that but instead of finding a nearly choked out man, you see him lying there with a glistening face and a filthy fucking smile.

“You ride so well, sweetheart,” he compliments, quickly pulling his hand from his cock to prevent his own orgasm, “ you sounded so pretty like that.”

He thinks hard about this, knowing that this is probably what his son wishes he can do for you, but at this point, he’s not even sorry. The way you choke out quiet sobs of pleasure, the way your legs were shaking around him, the way you fucking tasted against his tongue. No, he gets to be selfish. Fuck all else, he’s going to let you ruin him.

“Lie back, babe.” He says gently, waiting for you to adjust yourself comfortably against the bed before pulling his sweats off of him and shivering at the cold air that hits his pre-cum soaked length. He looks at you as you lay there, grabbing a pillow and adjusting it under your head with a soft smile before touching your face.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, leaning to hover over you and running his hand down your waist.

Your eyes trail straight to the cock you hadn’t been able to actually see yet, seeing the way it glistens and twitches with the need to be touched. You want nothing more than for this man to plunge himself so deeply inside of you, that you can only say his name when you get fucked by anyone else.

His eyes watch yours as you stare between his legs and he easily slots himself between yours, fawning over the way your body heaves as you continue to catch your breath from that last orgasm.

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation, yet again gripping himself and pumping against his own length as he waits for you to answer.

You nod, rolling your hips and bumping your warm, saliva-soaked, pussy against the knuckles of his hand as he pumps himself. He loves how your neediness matches his own, and he coos at the way you say nothing but communicates solely through grinding against nothing for him to fill you up.

The chuckle he lets out at you is another thing you had thought about time and time again. Being laughed at, degraded. Mingyu is everything and nothing like what you imagined him to be, but he’s also making you feel better than you imagined too. You blink up at him, trying to muster the words for him, wanting to see the fire in his eyes ignite further than it already has.

“I like it rough, deep.”

Yeah, that did something for him, you can tell with the way he drops his head and immediately positions his length against you.

“How deep, sweetheart?” He asks, teasing your hole with the head of his cock and pressing in only slightly.

You roll your hips forward, enveloping his tip and smiling at him. You think he loses himself right then and there, pressing into you with one long and languid thrust, committing the feeling of your inner walls hugging his cock tightly to memory, pulsating around him until he bottoms out with a released sigh.

“So fucking deep,” he says more to himself then to you, holding himself above you and bracing one hand at the side of your head and the other on your waist. “Deeper.” He coos, angling himself slightly and pressing into you more somehow.

You can’t fucking breathe, feeling him, seeing him, smelling him. You’re actually fucking the Kim Mingyu right now. All of your wet dreams compiled into one fucking instance and it’s happening to you right now in the early morning hours while your recent crush is dozed off in the living room.

You clench, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep yourself from moaning as loud as you’d like to right now.

He waits for you to adjust, twitching inside of you and working up a sweat as he attempts to control himself until you’re ready for the second half of your request. You wanna be fucked deep, and you wanna be fucked rough? Lucky him, because he’s about three seconds from ruining the both of you out of sheer desperation to feel your pretty hole squeeze him through orgasm.

“And rough?” He whispers, leaning down and whispering against your ear. You can feel his grip on your waist tighten when he pulls his hips back, relieving the pressure inside of you before pressing in again.

The moan he lets out against your neck is honestly the best thing you think you’ve ever heard, your nipples perk up at the sound of him fucking you, and you do everything you can to encourage him to do just that.

You nod with a broken moan, desperate enough to have him pulling back to look at you as he slides out again, and then plunges into you once, hard. The way your body shifts up as his hips meet your thighs is enough to have him doing it again, and again. A string of hard, deep, and pointed thrusts sending little yelps out of your throat each time his hips spread your legs a bit more for him.

The hand on your waist moves up to your left nipple and he pinches it slightly before falling forward again, bracing himself on both arms at either side of your head. His rhythm sends him over the edge and makes him fuck into you even harder as he breathes out and rests his forehead against yours.

“Sweetheart?” he lets out between deep breaths, the sound of slapping echoing to the point that you hope it doesn’t wake up the sleeping boy in the other room, “hold onto me.”

You don’t know why that does it for you, but it fucking does. You didn’t even realize you needed something to hold on to until you released you were gripping the covers with tightened knuckles. Releasing the blankets, you throw your arms around his shoulders.

“Legs too,” he chuckles, licking against your bottom lip in a teasing kind of way.

Your legs shoot around him too, squeezing his body and pushing him to thrust into you in a way that keeps his cock almost completely buried into you, thrusting tightly. Only an inch or two leaving you before the head of his cock bumps the deepest part of your inner walls.

Feeling that, knowing that Mingyu’s cock is reaching where no cock has gone before, you tilt your chin up and connect your lips with him. The first heated kiss sends shockwaves through your body and causes you to clench so tightly around him, that he fucking growls into it rather than moaning.

His pointed thrusts grow tighter, faster, and your arms continue to hug and squeeze against him as your tongue swirls around his. Teeth clinking, his sweat dripping a bit to the point of even tasting a bit of that salt fall past his lips and against yours.

Both of you are fucking gone, deep breaths and deep thrusts, his cock is pressing against that spot inside of you and all you can do is fucking– you let go.

Your mouth falls slack against his own, and he continues to lick into your mouth until he realizes. Your pussy jolts around him and he pulls his head back, watching you fall into a state of bliss before he’s instantly shoving his hand between the tight space of your bodies and harshly rubbing your clit.

“Oh, baby,” he coos out in his own moan, the image of actually seeing you come sending him over the edge himself. “That’s it,” he moans again, chasing his own high and feeling dangerously close already, “So pretty, you’re so fucking pretty like this.”

And there he goes too. You’re still riding out the last of your high when you feel him still his hips and press himself impossibly closer to you. He can feel your walls hug him, squeezing his come out of him in such a filthy way that he can’t help but whisper and babble out nonsense to you. Words of, you feel so good, i wanted this so badly, fuck yes–, fuck, fuck, just going to let me come in you like this?, fuck, oh, god.

It was a lot of nonsense, but to you and your dazed-out thoughts, it sounded like a mantra.

Even as the two of you laid there, fucked out and out of breath, neither of you felt any guilt. Why should you? Because you have (had) a crush on Chan? You’re not dating him, you’re an adult, and you can fuck whoever you want. Mingyu’s thought process is similar, though he’s sure the guilt will hit him later if anything were to happen.

The guilt did hit him later. He’d say around the time you stopped by three days after you spent the night to pick up your clothes.

Did he fuck you again? Yes. Right up against the washer in his tiny laundry room. Just as deep, but not as rough.

Is he only growing more weak towards you? Absolutely. Especially when you continue to find reasons to see him without Chan around.

Unsure of what the future holds between the two of you, Mingyu tries not to think of you as anything more than someone he casually has sex with. If you and Chan start dating, that’ll be fucking awkward, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to believe that will ever happen. Not when he’s already had you moaning his name, not when you wrap your arms around him the way you do.

― part two here!

#kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu x reader

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yoisami · 8 months

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˚₊‧୨୧ DISTANCE

[૮₍ ˃ࡇ˂ ₎ა]: this was supposed to be a longfic but i am not bothered + don’t have time so just take the climax lol

tags: itoshi sae x gn!reader, 1k wc, angst (ig?) with a happy ending, rejection, unestablished relationship, reciprocated feelings, not proofread i'm sorry

the salty air that’s drifted from lapping waves fills your senses, provocative to your wounded heart that’s yet to be healed.

your breath hitches when your eyes land on sae, standing in the distance and near the shore, silently gazing at the collection of stars that embroidered the night sky.

your beats of your heart echoes within you as your hand rises to rest against your chest—you're nervous, humiliated, disappointed, and quite frankly, you don’t want to approach sae.

especially not after the incident that occurred three days ago, where you offered him your heart, hopeful about your confession, only for him to reject you without saying anything, walking away like your love was a disease.

but it’s exhausting to have meals in silence, save for the awkward noise that wooden chopsticks make against paper bowls; it’s exhausting to know that you’re the sole reason for the elephant in the room, and it’s exhausting to hear the same phrase from your best friends when you apologise: “it’s not your fault”.

and for the sake of your best friends—for the sake of the remainder of this trip in okinawa, you’ve left the house to confront sae, and the only thing that’s relieving the tension in your system is the song conjured by the ocean.

wish, wash. wish, wash. your footsteps follow the rhythm to the song. your courage grows with the number of footprints you’ve made in the sand, and soon, you find yourself standing near him, keeping a comfortable distance between the two of you.

and in this invisible barrier that keeps you apart, are many things that have been left unsaid.

“i haven’t thanked you for the coffee you made me today.” warm and sweet, it was left on the kitchen counter for you by sae, which you assumed was his token of apology that you quietly accepted. this morning, you enjoyed the coffee with a sour heart.

he turns around, eyes widening slightly because he’s become conscious of your presence, and it’s overwhelming him. guilt pricks his shoulders, but he locks his gaze onto you—the person his heart and mind were dwelling on for a long, long time.

you hold his gaze momentarily, permitting yourself a minute to forget about all the hurt he’s inflicted upon you and to fall in love with the teal in his eyes again.

sae looks away. “you don’t need to.”

“it’s good manners to.” you smile at him for the first time in three nights, but it resembles your forced ones more than your genuine ones.

and it tugs onto sae’s heartstrings.

“you don’t have to be so polite to me��we’re close.”

his words grazes the wound in your heart. you’re friends, so of course you’re close to each other—sae’s also an arm’s reach away, but right now, he’s unreachable.

you don’t intend for it to be a whisper, but it is—the words are weak, and you’re not sure if you mean it entirely. “yeah. we are.”

the silence returns, and this time, the waves’ song doesn’t encourage you—it’s breaking you apart, and you’re holding yourself together with all the strength left in your body.

“i wish you could have said something to me when i confessed.”

sae does too. he’s ashamed, disgusted at himself for hurting you, and the pit in his heart only expands when he hears you sniffle. your eyes are searching for something in his—he doesn't know what it is, but there’s desperation behind your irises as you step closer.

“why didn’t you say something back?”

he doesn’t respond. as regret twists his stomach, making him feel sick about the situation, the anger you’ve concealed these past few days is beginning to seep out. the look in your eyes have changed, and sae’s deprived of things to say to you. or, more like, he doesn’t know how to say it to you—how to tell you that he wasn’t supposed to reject you.

“you could have at least said ‘no’, and i would have been okay, sae! but you didn’t! instead, you got up, walked away, and left me with my thoughts—left me to think if there was something wrong with me!”

perhaps this was the first time sae’s ever heard you so frustrated, so anguished, and he doesn’t dare look away, knowing that if he does, something terrible will ensue.

“you should’ve just told me you don’t feel the sa—”

“but i do,” these three words tumbles out his mouth as sae averts his attention to the sea, and then back at you, hands gripping onto your arms. “i like you too.”

your train of thought short-circuits—his proclamation has emptied you of your words. “then why did yo—”

“because i’m terrified that if i let you in any closer, i’ll end up hurting you—even more than now!” his heart is pulsing, and his hands are trembling against your skin. sae doesn’t know what he’s doing, but whatever is happening right now, it’s all to redeem himself for all the wounds his actions have left on your heart. “i’ve pushed people away, and i’ve hurt them with my words, and god, i don’t want that to happen to you!”

“and i don’t know if i can even do or say all the things people do to their lovers. i’m shit with my words; i’m terrible at showing affection. how am i supposed to make you happy if i can’t do any of these things?”

finally, the barrier cracks, and you’re leaning, indulging in each other’s touch—something that you and sae have yearned to do for a long, long time.

his embrace is clumsy, but you grasp onto him like it’s the last time you’ll ever be this close to him. “you’ll learn—we’ll learn together, yeah?”

with synchronised breaths, and fingers that lace together beside your pressed bodies, your hand closes together, holding onto a handful of his shirt.

“don’t push me away again.”

sae doesn’t think he will again.

#૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა — ୨୧ by saki #dont ask me what this is bc idk myself either #but all ik is that this was SUPPOSED TO BE A LONGFIC HELLO #but i didnt like how it turned out #so i wrote this #its cliched but sighs take it or leave it #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae angst #itoshi sae x you #sae x you #sae itoshi x you

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sc0tters · 10 months

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Just Say Yes | Jack Hughes

summary: Jack has finally prepared for the big day, he’s going to propose to you.

song: When You’re Ready - Shawn Mendes

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 2.55k

authors note: finding the picture of Jack was so hard because none of them screamed boyfriend… I’ve finally written this request that I was meant to write, so I hope the wait was worth it. If you want to check out the rest of the celly playlist you can do so here!

Jack waited for this day for years.

When he was five he first met you as your family purchased the lake house next to the Hughes’ it was a moment that is still engraved in his mind. You were in some pink dress that your mom had dressed you in and the first thing he literally said to you was that you were really pretty.

Naturally after that moment Ellen and your mom waited for the day that you two got together, because it wasn’t a matter of if but rather when.

At fifteen your friendship with the boy had grown even larger, your family had moved to Canada and that meant you were down the road from Jack every day rather than only during the summer.

It was no surprise that within six months of you living there Jack finally mustered up the courage to ask you out. You had said yes and your relationship was pure bliss for the three years that you had it for.

Jack was the perfect boyfriend, he was your date to prom and you two even got to graduate together.

But when you got your acceptance letter from Harvard you knew what you had to do. Jack hadn’t even been drafted yet but with no desire to go to university it meant that he could have been anywhere in North America soon.

That might have been a cop out answer but in fear of holding the boy who was predicted to go first in the draft you decided to break up with him.

Sure it was tough, you both cried but as you walked out of his room both of you knew it was for the best “always thought you’d marry her.” Jim blurted out one day as he sat with his son on the porch of the lake house.

Jim seriously saw you as the daughter he never had so this wasn’t just a break up that was felt by you and Jack it was felt by both of your families.

Luke didn’t know where his uno buddy went and he also didn’t seem to comprehend how you breaking up with Jack meant that nobody else in the family could see you.

Of course Ellen kept in contact with you, making sure that she reached out on your big milestone days that your mom posted on Facebook, moving into your dorm, making the honours list. Ellen was there to congratulate you through it all.

Watching Jack having that rough rookie season broke your heart, it was tough to avoid the mention of him especially as you had befriended the boys on the Harvard hockey team.

There were many moments when you would open his contact details to send him a whole long message wanting to reach out, most times you’d even type out what you wanted to say but each time you’d stop yourself from sending it.

To you there was fear that ran through your body each time you stopped yourself, what if Jack didn’t want to hear from you? What if he had changed his number? What if he had found someone new?

Jack was the big and bright first pick rookie so regardless of what he was doing on the ice, it wasn’t crazy to assume that some pretty girls would be knocking on the door of his dms.

That was why you were so surprised when you came out of class one day to see one of his teammates sat in the coffee shop on campus.

Nico recognised you from the pictures on Jacks phone and that caused him to let out a cheer as he ushered you over to him.

You didn’t want to be rude and that’s why you listened as you sat in the seat in front of him “Jack has been a wreck,” he announced not bothering to do any small talk.

The team had been trying to figure out how to help their rookie teammate because he was completely shutting himself in this bubble. The Swiss man remembered you from a flashback picture that the Devils posted of their rookie so when he asked who you were it gave the older boys on the team the genius idea that involved bringing you back to him “I’ve got class in an hour.” You announced with a sigh, sure you wanted to see Jack but your studies came first.

That didn’t deter Nico though “can you come to the game this Saturday?” He asked as he dug his hand into his bag to pull something out of it “I don’t know Nico,” you were scared that the boy would hate you for breaking up with him.

You two hadn’t spoken to each other since you left his room over six months ago now “just think about it.” The boy pleaded as he left a devils jersey and an all access pass on the table “I know he misses you,” he added as he patted your shoulder before he left you with that decisions hanging over your head.

Even as you walked into the prudential centre you didn’t know if you were doing the right thing, you wanted to turn around and leave but with Nicos words replaying in your head you knew you had to stay. It continued to replay until you got downstairs “we have someone we want you to see,” Miles smiled as he locked eyes with you.

Jack was entirely clueless about what was going on as he furrowed his eyebrows “do I have to?” He groaned as after another poor performance he didn’t want to see anyone.

Nico laughed “I think you’ll want to,” he patted the boys back as he motioned for you to come over “hi Jack,” you awkwardly spoke as the boy looked at you.

The forward swore he was dreaming “y/n?” Before you could let the tears well in your eyes Jack already took three large steps to get over to you as he pulled you into a hug.

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him “what are you doing here?” He asked as he still couldn’t believe that you were truly there.

It took you two a whole year of trying to reset your friendship to what it was before you dated for you to now ask Jack out.

Jack didn’t even let you finish your sentence before he told you to “shut up and kiss me.”

This time your relationship was built on a much more mature scale showing the growth that you each had when you were apart from each other. Cracks were now obvious in your relationship as there were arguments about the things you didn’t agree on but neither one of you cared about them for long because you two always found a way to work through them.

Now it was clear that the love you two had for each other wasn’t a puppy kind of love but rather the real kind that requires work to be perfect.

The moment you graduated Jack had you move into his apartment, most weeks you were already there so you moving there full time wasn’t going to become a massive shock to your systems.

But little did you know that by the time July came around Jack was a nervous wreck. In May he went ring shopping with Ellen, despite the fact that you were both young Jack didn’t want to be with anyone else.

Nobody was made him feel the way you did and the same thing went for how you felt about him.

Also the idea of being engaged for a while was also a massive possibility too.

The only thing holding him back was the fact that he worried you might not be settled into New Jersey yet.

Ellen though saw how happy you when she came to attend your graduation amongst the rest of her family and that caused her to sit her son down and say “just propose when you’re ready, she’s the happiest I’ve seen her in years!”

And that is how it happened, you had dragged Jack on a sunrise hike whilst you were in Michigan.

When you were looking in awe at the beautiful site of the orange and pinks that graced the skies Jack was too busy focusing on you as he tried to not drop the ring box “baby?” You asked as the boy hadn’t spoken in a while.

You turned around with your eyebrows furrowed but you quickly gasped as you realised what was going on “really?” Shock went through your system.

Jack was always the man you thought you’d marry and you always swore that Jack would be so nervous that you’d know exactly when he was planning on proposing.

But here you were totally oblivious “what do you say to putting up with me for the rest of our lives?” Jack joked as the Devils boys always said that they were responsible for this relationships second run.

Yet the boys also believed that they owed you an apology for bringing you back to your irritating boy.

You got down on one knee too as you were now crying “I’ll say a thousand times over.” You confessed as you pecked his lips.

Maybe Nico did deserve that matchmaker gift basket after all.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes x you #jack hughes #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagines #ambers 150 celly #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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uplatterme · 1 year

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Cherry Wine

—sub!kaeya/dom!reader, transmasc!kaeya/gn!reader | implied fwb relationship, fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort | mentioned nipple play, fingering (kaeya!receiving), edging, semi-public handjob (kaeya!receiving), mention of kaeya’s tcock like once though anatomy is kept pretty vague and gender-neutral

—kinda based on cherry wine by grentperez, that song has been on replay for days.

It’s not unusual for the Knights of Favonius to have these sorts of events, gatherings were held to provide some sort of bonding amongst other knights. A teambuilding activity, if you will.

He holds a glass of dandelion wine and the aroma reminds him of his…The smell reminds him of Angel’s Share and the said owner of that bar who isn’t here, and what he wouldn’t give to be in his position.

He stands idly in a secluded space, not wanting to catch the attention of the others who seem to be having a much more enjoyable time than he is.

His eyes wander around, examining his colleagues and other guests socializing.

The Cavalry Captain spots you and then out of nowhere, his hand is moving on its own, forcing him to drink the rest of the alcohol to hide the creeping blush starting to show on his face.

He turns around and faces the wall which is probably more suspicious than him just standing there alone, now that he thinks about it. However, he’d rather be caught dead than have you say something about him staring at you.

See, conversing with you isn’t really a problem. After all, you two have been friends ever since and even perform some acts that the average friendship doesn’t usually account for. Suffice to say, the knight trusts you a lot.

However, Kaeya might have stepped over that line a week ago…which is why he’s ignoring every letter you’ve sent to him.

My Kaeya, I apologize for not meeting up with you lately. I have been stumped with the new work that Jean has assigned me for the rest of the week. Here are some flowers that I’ve gathered while I’m out in Liyue. I hope they won’t wither by the time you get this letter. I miss you.

He internally screams once he remembers the contents of that letter. A lovely bouquet of qingxin, one which he immediately freezes to keep alive for as long as he possibly can. You were really too nice of a friend to him.

You’ve always referred to him as “My Kaeya” ever since the first letter you formally sent. So he assumes it’s a friendly term to refer to him, something that he shouldn’t read further into if he doesn’t want to get his feelings hurt.

Also, it may or may not be his fault that you were assigned that many workloads from Jean…

He already messed up last week.

He tried to forget about it, but it’s impossible to forget when your fingers were inside of him, his juices soaking the sheets while your tongue had its way with his chest, nibbling his nipples just the way he likes them as your saliva trails down from his scars to his stomach.

It wasn’t even that bad. Literally, there were worse times when you two got at it like two wolves in heat, yet somehow that was when his mind just decided to spew out those three specific words.

He sounded like he was enjoying himself on a honeymoon with his newlywed. What was he thinking… he could have moaned out literally anything else. Hell, he would have rather moaned out in Khaenri’ahn for fucks sake.

Yet he didn't, he said something much idiotic.

He can’t even say it in his mind right now, he’s far too embarrassed.

Kaeya is uncertain whether you heard him or not. He didn’t see you respond strangely at all, so is it possible you were too focused? Or maybe you did, and he just didn’t notice because he climaxed right after that mishap of his…

He’s hoping it’s the former.

He fidgets with the glass in his hand, breathing to calm himself down before turning around again.

“Hi.”

Kaeya’s heart jumps at the sight of you being so near to him. How long have you been there to begin with?

“Hello.” He replies as cooly as he can, averting his gaze away from you.

“I’m back.”

“I see that.” Archons, what is he saying?

“Are you—”

You cut yourself off, pursing your lips and giving him a smile before continuing. He’s seconds away from just bolting out of here.

“Did you like the flowers?”

“I did.” He answers.

“Good.”

And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the hired musicians changes the current music playing to a more…romantic one.

That’s fine. He’s good at these kinds of things.

Kaeya shoves any sign of embarrassment or nervousness away and looks straight at you directly. You must have drank a lot, the dilation in your eyes makes it easy to tell.

“Care for a dance?” You invited.

“My, are you sure you can keep up?” He bites back.

“Probably not, but if it prevents you from standing by yourself then I’ll dance with you as long as I can.”

The genuineness of your words always manages to stir him up.

Kaeya laughs. “I see you’ve had much to drink.”

“Sure, something like that.” He catches a grin from you despite the way you bow at him.

He shakes his head, offering his hand in front of you. There’s a slightly noticeable tremble his hand makes but you place your hand onto his, keeping him still.

“I’m afraid a simple waltz is all I can do, I’m no Eula.” You admit.

“It’s fine. I’ll lead.” Kaeya says, trying to act as confidently as he can.

“Alright then, Captain.”

His arm wraps around your waist as you place your hand on his shoulder. His breathing staggers but he tries to focus on the music and his feet, swaying you along with him. He dances gracefully, of course. Not that it’s surprising as he grew up in the Ragnvindr household.

He knows people are watching, he doesn’t meet their faces or yours.

“Kaeya.” You speak.

He raises his head. It’s bad etiquette to not look at the one you’re dancing with, though he hopes he can be forgiven just this once.

“Can we talk after this?”

He loses track of the time and his body moves as if it’s on autopilot. He only realizes that the music has stopped and so does he, when the people around him are clapping.

Kaeya faces you again, unsure of what to do.

All of the sudden, his body is being dragged away to a more quiet spot, Your hand gripping his wrist. The balcony provides room for the two of you, the rest of the party being hidden away by the fancy curtain.

“Are you cold?” You ask.

The breeze is a bit shivering but he’s used to the cold due to the cryo vision he holds.

“I’m fine.”

He hears you sigh, as if that answer he’s given you was somehow wrong. You grab a flask from the inside of his blazer, taking a swig before handing it to him.

Kaeya smells the alcohol and he worries. “More alcohol?”

“It’s my first drink tonight.”

He doubts that, although he finds that there’s no reason for you to lie.

So, why do you keep giving him those eyes?

Kaeya gives in, drinking the rest. Warmth grows on his face and he’s unsure whether it’s from the wine or the fact that your mouth was just on the flask.

“This is new.” He examines it with a closer look.

“Cherry Wine. Diluc gave it to me, apparently it’s from a merchant he met.”

Kaeya chuckles. “I see you’ve been conspiring with my brother.”

There’s jealousy obvious when he says that, but who was he to be jealous? The line of friendship becomes more and more obscured.

“Well, unlike someone. He actually finds time to reply to my letters.”

“You’re mad.” He points out.

“Here I thought you were too dense to even notice that.”

You close the distance between you two, his hands holding on the railings of the balcony as your hand steadies his back, kissing him deeply and much longer than any of the kisses you’ve given him.

His heart thumps from his chest, wanting more of your lips when you separate from him.

“Say it again. Tell me I didn’t mishear.” You plead.

“I…What?” You did hear him.

“Do I have to fuck it out of your mouth again?”

“Sweetheart, we’re in public. Gods, how strong is that wine—hey, wait!”

Your hand slips down his pants, palming the growing erection from under. Kaeya bites the back of his hand, your hand stroking his hardened tcock while you observe his face with a stern look.

“C-Come on, I really didn’t say anything.” He says, halfway between a soft whine and a cry.

“Captain, I didn’t take you for a liar and a coward.”

He’s dripping wet, he knows by the way the cloth sticks to the skin on his thigh. The pace you’re going at is undeniably slow, and he knows you won’t let him finish if he doesn't say those words again.

“Please?” Kaeya begs. It’s been a week without your touch and frankly, it’s a week too long.

“It’s admirable how you’d rather have me pleasure you like this in front of everybody rather than just admitting it.”

The knight knows that he’s enjoying this far more than he should be and that it’s the only thing worth remembering about this gathering.

And then your hand grips him tighter and his legs quiver, cursing your name out in a breathy moan.

“What’s wrong? Poor Captain wants to cum, does he?” You tease.

“You ass.”

His thighs rub together, wanting more of that extra friction. He admits that the action is quite humiliating, though if there’s a way to get himself off without confessing his feelings for you, then he’ll gladly do that.

“No. Spread them apart.” You ordered.

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

He follows through, a squeaky whimper escaping his throat.

“So desperate, My Kaeya.”

His foot almost missteps when he feels the warmth from one of your fingers slowly penetrating him. Oh fuck, you cannot be serious.

He throws his head back as you continue to explore more of his insides. And just like before, you’re meticulously playing with him just so he breaks apart.

“I already said please.”

“And it’s appreciated, dear. But that’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“Fuck…hn, you—”

He stays a wreck like that for a few minutes, not being allowed the permission to cum from your fingers. Why do you want him to say it that bad anyways? Do you really want to reject him like this? Right now?

Kaeya’s body feels heavy.

He’s close, oh so close.

His nails dig into the skin of his palms, he hears the inside get quieter and for a second, he assumes that it’s because of how he’s gasping and panting because of you.

He shakes those thoughts, knowing how loud the music and gossiping of the knights must be.

“Do you not like me?” You blurt out.

What an absurd question. Why do you think he’s letting you do this?

“Am I too pushy, Kaeya?”

Your words are contrasting your actions far too differently. Your fingers start to get rougher, he’s painfully hard and he just wants to—He can’t—he physically cannot hold it any longer.

The mention of your name is indistinguishable from a slobbering baby, he holds your waist again although for a particularly different reason this time.

It’s so cheesy how he gets so lovesick whenever he cums.

“I-I love you.”

His entire body collapses into an orgasm. He sobs onto your chest, he’s unsure whether it’s because of how fucking good that felt or the forthcoming response you’ll give as he’s finally admitted it.

What he didn’t expect however, is the fact that it’s not only his face that’s soaking from tears.

“I hate you.” You say.

There’s a hurt in his chest and he wants to take it back but what’s already been said is right there. He wants to apologize. It’s his fault after all for thinking anybody would think of him as anything more than a friend, for catching feelings—

His thoughts are silenced as you kiss him once more, it only lasts for a few and he’s left stunned as to why you would do that.

“I thought you finally caught on. I was so happy when you said you love me, I was caught off guard,”

You take a deep breath, calming yourself.

“And then, you decide to avoid me?! I even sent you qingxin, and you know I don’t like high places!”

…

“You like—no, you love me?” Kaeya states, the thought seems way too unbelievable.

“Obviously! Who in their right mind would address their friend as theirs?” You spat back.

You groan, pushing his already weak body away.

“I love you too, Kaeya. Don’t do that again, okay? You worried the shit out of me.”

“I…Okay. I won’t, I promise.”

He starts walking towards you shakily before pulling you into a tight hug.

It’s a strange hug. The breeze is far too cold, your clothes are now sticky, and both of your eyes are red from crying.

Yet somehow, it’s comforting.

It’s perfect.

#plattered writings #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #dom reader #transmasc!kaeya

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qveerthe0ry · 3 months

Text

If You're Crazy Too

Summary: It isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten. Word Count: 8,600 Pairing: Santi x m!amab!reader x Frankie Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, mutual masturbation, watching porn together, threesome, handjobs, ass eating, oral sex (m receiving), anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), dirty talk, dom/sub undertones, polyamory Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar thank you both so much, you're angels for helping me through this <3 A/N: Special thanks to the author of this post for making an excellent resource for writing Spanish in fics, it came SO in handy. Also thanks to @triplefrontier-anniversary for inspiring me to finish getting this brainworm all written down before the deadline!

Santi is an incredible fuck. Also, he’s a fairly sweet guy.

You met him at your favorite club. He’d been dancing with men and women all night long, graceful and respectful, and you itched to get your turn with him.

When you finally got the chance, his body was solid and sweaty and sure against your own.

You could barely hear him over the music when he told you, lips brushing over your ear, that he was hoping you’d seek him out.

He kissed you, after a few songs, and you met it with an eagerness you didn’t even know you had in you. It wasn’t long before he asked you to come back to his place, and he made you fall apart underneath him.

The morning after wouldn’t have been awkward, either, if his roommate hadn’t been cooking breakfast for the both of you.

Santi introduced him as “Frankie, or Catfish, or Fish.” He was gorgeous, too, in a softer way than Santi. His brown eyes were wider and less menacing than Santi’s, and his curls peeked out under a well-worn trucker’s cap.

He said it was nice to meet you, and asked how you liked your eggs, and if you were way too loud the night before with Santi, he didn’t mention it. You did, however, catch him sneaking glances at Santi while the three of you ate, and wondered what they meant.

It didn’t matter much at the time when you thought you’d never see Santi again. But he walked you to your Uber after breakfast, and asked if you maybe wanted to do this again, no pressure, no strings attached. And you did. So you exchanged numbers and he kissed you on the cheek before sending you off.

You’ve met up with him a few times now. Each time Frankie makes himself scarce. You either hear the TV in his room, or you pass him on your way in, telling you he’s got errands to run. What errands he’s running at 10pm, you’re not sure you want to know, but you don’t think much of it.

Until now. You knock on the front door of their apartment and hear voices, too muffled to make anything out clearly.

Santi answers before too long with a smile, and you follow, intent to trail him to his bedroom like you usually do.

This time, though, Frankie’s sat on the couch in the living room, a beer in his hand, and he looks like someone just kicked his puppy.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something? We can rain check.”

Frankie looks to you, and then to Santi, and you feel like you have your answer before either of them speak.

“No, no, you haven’t interrupted anything,” Santi starts, “it’s just our favorite OnlyFans guy released a new video a few days ago and we haven’t had the chance to watch it yet. Fish is a little eager.”

“Fuck you, I’m not. Just thought we were watching it today is all. No big deal.”

It’s a lot of information to process, that these two not only share a favorite OnlyFans creator, but watch his videos together. And— not to assume, but you’re sure they probably do other things together too.

“Oh… I mean, I don’t want to ruin your plans.”

“It’s fine—“

Frankie’s reassurance is cut off by Santi though, something that seems like a common occurrence by the way he settles back into his seat and closes his lips when Santi begins to speak.

“You wanna watch with us? First orgasm of the night, but I promise I’ll make it up to you after.”

And fuck it, you think. It isn’t quite what you imagined when you left your place, but it doesn’t sound like a terrible way to spend your Friday night.

“I’m down,” you shrug, and Santi’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and winks at you.

He turns the lights off while Frankie casts the video to the TV. You settle in the armchair, as Fish looks a little uncomfortable, but he assures you he isn’t when you check in with him.

Santi takes the opposite side of the couch as Frankie, and then he’s ordering him to start the video.

The bar on the bottom reads 45:06. Longer than you expected. The video is well-edited with soft royalty-free music over a logo that fades when the man appears on screen.

You chance a small glance at the couch. You aren’t really sure what the etiquette is here, but neither of them seem to be making any moves yet, hands resting on their own thighs. You mirror them, subtly shifting to do so, and avert your eyes to the television once more.

The man on the screen is a wicked dirty talker. He spends a good five minutes telling the viewer what he wants done to him. He’s also quite submissive by the sounds of it, which shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. Santi loves the way you submit to him, tells you so every time you hook up.

You find yourself wondering what Frankie likes in the bedroom, if he’s also just as dominant as Santi, if he’s more sweet or hardened, if he would be vocal like Santi or more reserved like he seems to be in his daily life.

Before you realize it, the man on the screen is stripping down into a skimpy, lacy set of underthings. His cock is on the smaller side but rock hard and leaking, tenting his little lacy briefs in a deliciously obscene display. Your cock stirs at the sight, and you peek over at the couch again.

Frankie’s palming the bulge in his sweatpants, eyes glued to the screen so diligently that you think it’s calculated. Santi, in contrast, has his hand under the waistband of his gym shorts already.

But you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker from the screen, and not to you, but to Frankie, flitting up and down quickly from his face to his lap.

You try not to sigh too loudly as you cradle your own package, half-hard in your own skimpy briefs you wore just for Santi. You watch as the man on the screen turns his back to the camera and bends over, allows the camera to get a full view of the outline of the plug nestled between his juicy ass cheeks.

The air in the room feels humid, almost too hot as the video goes on. You definitely get why this guy is their favorite OnlyFans creator. He’s gorgeous, first of all, all lithe muscle, soft in the perfect places. And he’s an incredible performer. He talks to the camera like he’s talking to you, desperate and breathy. It doesn’t take long for your prick to fully fill out in your briefs.

The camera angle changes on screen. It cuts to him on all fours on the bed, his hole gaping from removing the plug, his pretty pink cock leaking between his legs. A rough grunt from your left has your eyes wandering to the couch again.

Santi’s cock is out, and the sight alone makes your mouth water. Thick and glistening in his big hand, his balls sat atop the waistband of his shorts. Your own throbs under the pressure of your palm, and you let yourself sneak a look at Frankie, too.

He’s finally got his hand down his pants, and you almost feel bad for wondering what his cock is like, too. If it would mirror the differences between he and Santi’s bodies, longer but thinner. You wonder if he’s uncut like Santi is, and you wonder what he’d taste like.

A loud whimper makes you peel your eyes away from the couch and look back at the TV. The guy is three fingers deep in himself, fucking them in along with the messy amount of lube he’s used. It’s fucking hot, and you throw all caution to the wind to unzip your jeans and pull your cock free from its confines.

“He’s fucking hot right?”

You turn your head to Santi at the sound of his voice. Your heart picks up at the sight of him, one hand stroking his balls while the other works slowly up and down his shaft.

You squeeze your own in response.

“Yeah, not exactly my type but he’s still doing it for me.”

Santi chuckles, nods his head back to the screen. But before you turn back yourself, you see Fish glance at Santi out of the corner of his eye. He starts to shuffle his waistband down his hips, but you turn away before you see anything you think you shouldn’t.

The guy on the screen is limber. On his back now, knees pressed to his chest, he’s whining and whimpering while he fucks himself with a big, realistic dildo.

It’s massive, much bigger than any real cock you’ve taken, but you guess that’s some of the appeal. You try to quietly spit in your hand, then spread it up and down as you lazily stroke yourself off to the video.

It’s loud. The obscene squelching and consequential moans fill the living room, but not enough that you can’t hear the strokes from both Santi and Frankie on the couch next to you. Occasionally you hear a muffled curse, or a stilted gasp, and you can’t be sure which man they’re coming from but you want to hear more.

You glance over again. Your eyes land on Santi first, of course, who’s almost shamelessly staring at Frankie’s crotch, the way he lifts his hips to fuck into his fist every few thrusts.

Frankie’s cock is longer, and thinner, and you’re delighted to find that he isn’t circumcised either, the fat head of his cock disappearing and reappearing from under his foreskin.

He turns his head, and you stop stroking your cock all together, afraid of Fish’s reaction to you sneaking a peek. Only, when you meet his eyes to shoot him an apologetic look, he’s not looking at you.

He’s looking at Santi, staring, eyes roaming up and down his body, lingering where he fists his prick, then back up again. You’re stunned still at how intimate it feels, the heat in Frankie’s gaze as he licks his plush lips.

You turn your eyes back to the video with a pounding heartbeat. Your erection begins to wane as you stare through the TV. You can’t get it out of your mind, the way they look at each other. You’re surprised they haven’t caught each other looking yet. The heat from both of their gazes looked tangible, hungry and yearning. It’s as plain as day to you, on the outside looking in.

“Ah fuck—”

The curse is not from Santi. Your eyes trail over just in time to see Frankie pull his shirt up and spill across his stomach. His eyes are closed, head thrown back against the wall behind the couch, and you see Santi’s fist speed up, a blur of tan skin.

You watch him watch Frankie, unabashed now as Fish’s eyes are shut in bliss, and Santi comes too with a deep hum, closing his own eyes just in time for Frankie to open his and look at the both of you.

He quickly averts his gaze when he sees you staring, reaches for the tissue box on the coffee table in front of him. In a move that looks so familiar, he pulls out two for himself, and then two for Santi, handing them over with practiced ease.

Santi pants out a gruff gracias and uses one to clean up with, then holds out his hand to offer you the other.

“Oh— no thanks, I’m good. Didn’t quite get there.”

Santi hums, uses the extra tissue to finish wiping himself up.

“What’s wrong, hermoso? Have I ruined you for all other men?”

His grin is cocky when he asks, tucking himself back into his shorts.

“Yeah Santi, that’s it.”

You roll your eyes and look over to Fish as if to say this fuckin’ guy, but he’s busy boring a hole into the paused TV screen like his life depends on it.

Your dick is hanging fairly limp out of your underwear, so you stow it away, pull your jeans back up.

“Don’t bother,” Santi tells you, nodding his head toward his bedroom, “let me make it up to you now.”

So with your fly undone, you stand on weary legs and follow Santi to his room. When you make it, you turn back to Frankie, to say thank you or sorry, you can’t be sure, because he’s already closing his own bedroom door behind him.

Santi makes good on his promise, though. He eats your ass for what feels like hours, until you’re shaking and begging for him to fuck you. And then he does, somehow riding the perfect line between rough and tender, holding your back against his front with one big hand on your chest as you both kneel on the bed. His other hand works your cock so perfectly that you come unglued in a grand way, like you always do with him.

He cleans you up after, gentle. He’s a huge cuddler, so it doesn’t phase you anymore when he spoons you close and presses his mouth along the little love bites he’s left.

“You really aren’t into subs, are you? Not even a little bit?”

You know he’s referencing your lack of interest in the video. You could agree with him, or you could tell him the truth. You’re not sure what to do, and so you sit in silence for some time before you decide to bite the bullet.

“It isn’t that. I mean, I am more into doms but— that wasn’t it.”

You feel him go stiff behind you.

“Shit, was that too weird for you? I didn’t mean to force you into—“

“No! No, Santi, it was fine. I just— you’re into Frankie, right?”

Air escapes his lungs in something akin to a sob.

“What!? Why would you say that?”

He’s not denying it, which is a good step.

“C’mon man, you were watching him more than you were watching the TV.”

“Pendejo, no I wasn’t.”

“Pendejo” you mock him, “don’t gaslight me. I don’t care. This isn’t, we’re no strings, right? I’m just saying, I don’t wanna come between this thing.”

“There’s no thing to come between. Even if you were right, which you’re not, Fish isn’t into me like that.”

You laugh.

“O-kay.”

“Don’t ‘okay’ me. How would you know? You’ve known him for a grand total of an hour and a half.”

“He was looking at you, too. You know that, right? You’re just in denial?”

“I would’ve seen if he was looking at me.”

“Because you were looking at him.”

“Fine! Okay, I was looking at him. He wasn’t looking at me so what’s it even matter?”

“He was, Santi. He was looking at your cock and licking his lips like he was starved. I saw it.”

Santi huffs behind you, and it tickles your neck.

“I’m not lying to you. I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you a little bit.”

His arm around you tightens for a beat.

“Awww, so sweet, querido.”

“Shut up,” you huff, “you’re changing the subject. He was looking at you, like he’s always looking at you. I’ve watched him moon over you every single breakfast I’ve eaten here. You know how bad that makes me feel, eating the breakfast he made me while your cum drips out of me?”

“Fuck, why’d you say it like that? That’s so hot.”

“Because it’s true. If you guys have feelings for each other you need to figure that out before I die of a guilty conscience.”

You can practically feel Santi’s eyes roll behind you.

“Dramático,” he groans.

“You do have feelings for him. It seems like he does too. Get your poop in a group about it, man.”

“Will you still stay over? I’ll need a morning fuck if this is the way my weekend’s gonna go.”

——

I can’t do it. Frankie’s visiting his kid this weekend

The text comes a few hours after you shared your now routine, dysfunctional family breakfast, where Fish was indeed making googly eyes at Santi, and Santi’s cum was indeed leaking out into your underwear.

Likely story

No really. I don’t want to mess with his vibes, his kid is super important to him. It’s cute.

Oh my god just fuck him already

I’m TRYING okay? Can you help? I need moral support.

And look, it isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten.

So the two of you devise a plan. It’s convoluted as all hell, but also fairly simple. The next time their OnlyFans guy posts a video, Santi invites you over to watch again. Conveniently, just before you arrive, he spills a glass of red wine all over the seat of the armchair, and soaks the cushion trying to get the stain out of the beige fabric.

You show up, ‘none the wiser.’ Still, the vibes are absolutely weird in their two bedroom apartment. Frankie’s fidgeting on the couch, and Santi misses your cheek and plants a kiss to your eyelid. You have to get these boys together.

The plan goes off without a hitch from there. Santi flicks off the lights, and Frankie casts the video to the TV, just like they did last time, just like they’ve probably done dozens of times before. But now, the armchair is out of commission, so you all squeeze together on the couch. Santi’s in the middle, of course, his thick thigh pressing against your own as you all point your attention to the flatscreen.

You’re kind of excited. It’s a weird thing for you to be excited about, but you weren’t lying all those days ago. You do care for Santi. And Fish too, really, if only for the delicious breakfasts he makes, and for making Santi happy.

This time, you don’t wait for any of their cues. You pull your cock out as soon as the OnlyFans guy starts stripping his clothes. Santi grabs your hand, and for a second you think you’ve ruined the plan. But then spits into it, and Frankie groans from Santi’s other side as he watches the display. You moan a little too, partly for show, partly for the way Santi never fails to make your dick rock hard in record time.

You stroke yourself, and it goads the boys into pulling their pants down, too. The guy on the screen is doing things a little differently this time, fingering a see-through fleshlight as he lubes it up. This is hotter to you, anyway. It doesn’t take long at all for pre-cum to gather at your slit and slick your strokes even more.

By the time the guy is fucking into it with timid strokes, whimpering through the speakers, Santi still hasn’t made a move. You elbow him in the side, and he flinches, then elbows you right back.

You turn your head toward him, make like you’re kissing his neck, because Frankie’s eyes are about to pop out of his skull with the way he’s got them trained on Santi.

“Go on. You already have an audience,” you whisper.

Santi shudders, and Frankie looks away. Just in time, too. Santi eyes the way Fish is stroking himself, and then you hold your breath as Santi lifts his hand and wraps it around the base of Frankie’s cock.

“Ohmyfuckinggod.”

Frankie’s head thunks against the wall behind him, and his hips jolt up into the touch. You’re watching without any hesitation now, and Fish’s eyes are closed anyway. Santi squeezes and Frankie whimpers and scrambles to find Santi’s cock without looking.

“Fuck, Fish. Yeah?”

Santi’s voice is dripping with arousal, low and gruff, his cock twitching in Frankie’s grasp.

“Please, please.”

Frankie finally opens his eyes, lets his head loll to the side to look at Santi. But his eyes quickly flutter to you, his expression twisting up in confusion.

“Santi, what—“

“Shhh, hermano, s’okay.”

You lean forward, and for a moment you’re having an out-of-body experience, watching yourself cradle into Santi’s side, not knowing if you’re helping or hurting their cause, but wanting to reassure them both that this is a good thing.

Frankie takes the encouragement for what it is, allowing himself to fuck up into Santi’s fist and look at him with hooded eyes, mouth gaping open.

Like a fish, you think, and chuckle against Santi’s neck.

“What’s happening? Why?”

Frankie looks between the two of you for an answer, and you bite down on Santi’s earlobe to goad him to answer.

“He caught you looking, last time. Caught me looking at you, too. Put two and two together for me. This okay?”

Frankie shudders and closes his eyes, but nods his head.

You watch both of them, their hands on each other’s pricks, their hips meeting the thrust of foreign fists.

“Waited so long,” Frankie whispers.

“Lo sé, me too.”

Their faces inch toward each other, and you nuzzle the curls at the nape of Santi’s neck. To encourage him, or maybe to shield your eyes from the intimate moment, or probably both.

You feel the kiss, the way Santi’s neck cranes and flexes, and you hear the ragged moans from their lungs, and you are rock hard.

But your work here is done. You may need to jerk off in Santi’s bathroom before you leave, lest you tumble down the apartment stairs since there’s hardly any blood flow to anywhere other than your dick.

But as you make to get up, Santi’s free hand plants firmly on your thigh. You still behind him, a rush of awkwardness flushes through your system.

His head leans back when he pulls away from the kiss, and you watch the way Frankie physically recovers from it, takes a big lungful of air and slowly opens his eyes, licks the taste of Santi from his lips.

“What do you think, Fish? Should we thank him?”

Your cock throbs where it’s pressed against Santi, and you feel him chuckle, but Frankie’s nodding his head fast and looking straight at you.

“Yeah, yes,” he answers, breathless.

“My bedroom or yours, hermano?”

“I couldn’t give any less of a shit.”

They both laugh, and you find it in you to huff, but it’s anything but authentic when all you can think about is having these two men in bed with you, thanking you.

“Go get comfy, yeah? We’ll be there in a minute,” Santi tells you.

You’ve never moved more swiftly in your life, and you’re sure it looks so graceful, walking to Santi’s room with your hard prick swaying in the wind. But you, like Frankie, couldn’t give any less of a shit.

You undress in the now familiar bedroom, lie back on freshly washed sheets as you hear Santi and Frankie mumble, incoherent all the way out in the living room. Your heart rate picks up when you hear footsteps, but only one pair, and Santi struts in. You can hear rustling from beyond the door, a kitchen cabinet opening and closing.

“He‘a grabbing us some waters. I wanted to check in, make sure this is all okay? I know it wasn’t the plan.”

Now you laugh.

“Is it okay? Do I want two gorgeous men thanking me for squishing their heads together like Barbie dolls? It’s more than okay.”

Santi clicks his tongue at you.

“No need for the sass.”

Your blood runs cold at his tone shift, even as his lips quirk up just the tiniest bit at each corner.

Frankie walks in, then, and almost looks startled by the staring match happening. Still, he wades further into the room, sets a few glasses of water down on the nightstand.

You’re suddenly feeling self-conscious, naked and spread out on the bed in front of these two men, fully clothed and practically leering at you. Frankie’s not so shy now; you can feel his eyes on you as they roam across every inch of exposed skin. It’s a heated, tense moment that only breaks when Santi tugs Frankie to him by the hem of his shirt.

Christ, is it hot to watch, the way Fish’s body goes lax as Santi’s tenses, grabbing the back of his neck. His strong arm flexes as his hand gets lost in Frankie’s curls. They share a kiss that looks like less lips and more teeth. Then Santi’s sliding his hands under Frankie’s shirt, along his flanks, exposing smooth, tan skin.

They part to fling their shirts off, and you can’t help it, you reach down to touch yourself. You’re watching something beautiful. Their dance is stilted with novelty but still looks so easy, familiar in an unfamiliar way.

Their noses bump together awkwardly at times, but their hands map out patterns across each other’s bodies that look practiced, like they’ve done this thousands of times before, if only in their dreams.

And they look incredible together. Santi’s thick and bulky, skin so taught over his frame. And Frankie is leaner, corded muscle covered in softer flesh. It looks so squeezable. It is, you find out, second-hand, by the way Santi grabs him by the hips and pulls him closer, just to push him away to get his pants down.

They don’t part for long, and you’re stuck in this haze, a participant only by the way you’re sliding your hand lazily up and down your shaft while you watch them. Santi hasn’t waxed since you first met him, and now all that chest hair is growing in, a stark contrast to Fish’s hairless one. And you know it feels incredible, to be in Frankie’s position, getting scratched by all that wiry hair. You know his own hairless chest will be red and splotchy by the time the night ends, like yours has been countless nights before.

Finally, they come up for air, naked and heaving breaths across each other’s faces as they share a look. Santi raises his strong brow, tilts his head in your direction, and you’re snapped out of your voyeuristic state.

“Let’s show some gratitude, yeah?”

His voice is all low and hoarse, and you watch it affect Frankie in the same way it affects you, cocks jumping. And fuck, Fish does exactly as he’s told once Santi coaxes him with a playful slap to his ass. He crawls up between your legs, and his full lips are even more so now, bitten and slick and deep red. Glancing up at you with those long, pretty, fluttery lashes, his sweet brown eyes are all heavy-lidded and hesitant.

“This is okay?”

His voice is small, and he’s so goddamn perfect.

“Yes, Frankie. Please.”

You both exhale at the same time, and then he gets to it, immediately. His tongue hangs out of his mouth when he opens it wide, and he wastes no time sinking down on your prick.

“Jesus Christ, Fish.”

You damn near give yourself whiplash to look over to Santi, frozen in place next to the bed, eyes glued to where you and Frankie connect. The latter moans around your cock, encouraged to bob his head faster already, take you deeper.

“Knew you’d be such a good little cocksucker with those pretty lips. Fuck.”

It’s so hot, it’s too hot. You’re going to blow in record time with the warmth of Frankie’s mouth and the filth Santi is reciting.

He must see it in your face, the panic of this all being over way quicker than you want it to be. He kneels on the bed beside you both, gets a hand in Fish’s silky curls and you see the shudder that cascades down his body.

“Not a race, hermano,” Santi says, tugging at his hair to get him to lift off of your leaking prick.

Fish stares, wide-eyes and ragged breathing, as Santi arranges himself to lie beside him, both of their faces now inches from your throbbing cock.

“Control freak,” Frankie mumbles, but the smile on his face makes any heat from his words dissipate.

Santi punishes him with a bruising kiss anyway. Your hips jolt as Frankie’s hair brushes across your dick, so on-edge that even that whisper of a touch sends you reeling.

Santi chuckles around Fish’s bottom lip that he’s got between his teeth.

“He so sensitive, Fish. Gotta take it slow, alright?”

It makes your entire body burn, the way he’s talking about you like you’re not even there. The way he’s been guiding Frankie through everything so far, and the way Frankie follows so obediently.

Santi shuffles a bit, and Fish does too, so in-sync that you almost laugh. Their unplanned choreography has them both straddling one of your legs respectively, arms in between, their hands finding each other just close enough to your heavy sac that you can feel the heat coming off of them.

They both look up at you, and for a moment everything is so eerily perfect that it feels like you’re in some sick, twisted Truman Show remake, and this was all a ploy to get you into bed with them.

But then Santi looks at Frankie, a soft bueno? uttered toward him, and Frankie nods. Santi leans in, for what you assume is to kiss him more, but his nose brushes the base of your shaft. And then Fish leans in too, his own strong nose nuzzling just under your head.

Your hands find purchase on the backs of their necks, a light touch to ground yourself as you watch. It’s so fucking intimate, and you’re the catalyst for their exploration, and it’s driving you up the goddamn wall. Your curse and watch twin grins break out on their faces.

Shitheads, both of them.

They continue on with this dance, breathing in your scent as they nose up and down your cock. Their eyes open and close, but their gazes always seem to land on each other at the same time.

And then Santi leads, licking a long stripe up the side of you. Frankie follows eagerly once he catches on, meeting him for a sloppy dance of tongues all over the head of your dick, your frenulum, lapping up the pre-cum that’s been steadily leaking from your slit.

It jerks wildly under their loose attention, and Frankie chuckles deep and low as he chases your cock and Santi’s mouth at the same time. Your nails start to bite into their napes, the burning in your gut becoming far too intense.

“Guys,” you gasp, “I— fuck. I can’t.”

Santi hums, leaves a playful nip at the base of your prick that nearly sends you over the edge. Fish lets up, intent to lick up every last drop of your taste from Santi’s mouth, and groans when he succeeds.

You’re all left panting for a minute. You can’t decide who to look at. Santi’s head has fallen onto your thigh, and Frankie’s propped up on an elbow, staring down at him, all along the dips and curves of his tan skin. Santi gets a hand around Fish’s cock, thumbing under the head in slow circles, soothing and relaxed.

“Everyone still having a good time?”

Santi’s tone implies he already knows the answer. A weak Jesus, yes huffs out of your vocal chords, just as Frankie nods his head eagerly where it rests in his palm.

Santi cranes his neck to look up at you, and already you know you’re in for it, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“You want Fish to fuck you?”

Your cock throbs near their heads, and Frankie snorts.

“Think that’s a yes, huh?”

You answer Fish with a nod. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone but Santi. The thought shorts out all the wires in your system as you realize you get to learn him this way, what he’s into, what he’ll want to do to you, and how different it is from his counterpart.

“All fours, both of you. He’ll let you eat his ass for hours, Fish,” Santi instructs.

“Jesus.”

If it weren’t for the way Frankie scrambles to get into position, you’d ask if he was alright with it. But once he’s hovering on his hands and knees between your legs, he’s manhandling you to do the same, and you love it.

Your cock sways and leaks between your thighs, and Fish pulls and tugs to get you exactly how he wants you. You feel even more exposed than usual like this, with these two men behind you. He spreads you open for him, and you feel your hole clench and relax as it’s exposed to the humid air of the bedroom.

Then he spits, perfectly aimed, and you feel his saliva trickle all the way down your taint, tickling your balls as it drips onto the sheets.

A puff of hot air is all the warning you get before his tongue is following that same trail in reverse, all the way up to where your crack meets your back, and then back down, and your elbows buckle and so does your resolve.

You moan a mix of curses and Frankie’s name, and it only eggs him on, gets him to zero in on your rim with his tongue, circling then flicking, over and over.

You try to crane your neck enough to see Santi when you hear him swear.

“You really fuckin’ like this. Don’t you, Fish?”

All you can see is his tight curls behind Frankie’s own arched back, and his big hands wrapped around Frankie’s slender hips.

You feel Frankie answer him, an incoherent groan into your asshole as the tip of his tongue breaches you.

You’re on fire. Your cock is leaking a really pathetic stream onto Santi’s bedding, neglected, and you know you won’t come without any friction, but you also don’t want to. Not for a while, not until you get to feel Frankie’s cock inside you, get to see Santi watch him fuck you.

You’re anything but impatient, though. Santi was right, the smug asshole. You could keep Fish here for eternity, especially with how fucking diligent his tongue is, lapping you up and pressing inside of you, over and over. It’s dizzying, especially when he begins making desperate noises against you.

You know he’s in for the time of his life. Santi, as smug as he is, loves eating your ass ‘for hours.’ He’s fucking sloppy with it, and he does this thing with his thumbs that drives you—

“Fuck! Ay dios, Pope, what the fuck?”

Frankie falls lax into you, his nose against your hole and his lips brushing your taint as he curses.

“Yeah, you like that? Want me inside this cute little ass?”

Fish whines, shifts his face so he can bite the tender flesh where your thigh and ass meet, and all you can do is groan and push back into him as he gives Santi his answer.

“Damelo, need you, please.”

Santi hums, and you can tell by how it’s muffled that his mouth is once again occupied. Frankie recovers, though his tongue is much less coordinated now, a messy flurry of licks as he prods at your entrance.

Then you hear it, the click of a bottle opening, bouncing off the bedroom walls in a familiar way. You clench around Frankie’s tongue, a Pavlovian response, and he groans and fits his lips around your hole and sucks.

You’re babbling now, strings of nonsense, begging, and praise in the otherwise silent bedroom. You know the exact moment Santi sinks his thick finger inside of Frankie, because you feel him stiffen and shake against you, feel his nails dig into the meat of your cheeks where he’s spreading you open.

His mouth retreats, and you whine, but he’s tugging on you again to get you to lie on your back.

It’s a fucking sight when you’re finally able to watch. Fish has his back arched like a goddamn cat, presenting his ass to Santi, mouth gaping open at his skilled fingers.

Santi’s looking over him, one large hand splayed out on his back to keep him still as he fucks into him with what you assume is at least three fingers, the way Frankie’s drool is dripping from the corner of his mouth. Santi’s eyes are glued to his ministrations, where he’s slowly thrusting in and out, his big bicep flexing as he goes.

He manages to tear his eyes away, though, to look at you and wink.

“How’d he do? Think he deserves to fuck you, papi?”

You whimper at the mere thought of it, finally feeling him inside you.

You shake your head, but Santi tuts.

“Yeah— Yes, Santi. He did so good.”

Santi’s lips tilt up into a wicked smirk.

“There he is, that’s it, tell Francisco how good he is for us, huh?”

You see Frankie’s cock throb between his legs, hear a pathetic little noise fall from his lips. You and Santi both get a curious but delighted look on your faces at his reaction.

“Did so good, Francisco.”

He shivers, hides his face in the bedding between your thighs for a hot minute. A lungful of air escapes him, slow and methodical, before he tilts his head back to Santi.

“Lube?”

Santi huffs, tosses the bottle next to Fish’s head.

“Doesn’t take long for him. He likes the stretch, don’t you bebito?”

You huff, and your face feels hot and prickly as both men look at you. You squirm, and you don’t want to answer, you want at least a tiny bit of pride going into this, because you know you’re bound to come out the other side with absolutely none.

“He asked you a question,” Frankie says.

His gruff voice makes your breath catch.

Santi hums his approval behind him.

“Yeah, yeah, just— just two, give me two and I’ll be good.”

“What do you say, papi?”

And Jesus, this is the most Frankie’s said all night and it has your toes curling.

“Please, Frankie.”

He makes a patronizing, satisfied noise that makes you want to hide but also expose yourself even more. You want to give him everything, him and Santi, let them use you to get their pleasure however they want.

But then Fish groans, and you see Santi’s arm twisting behind him, reaching for that perfect spot. He makes a mess squirting lube out onto his fingers, and you at least have enough control of your faculties to lift your sac out of the way so Frankie can spread it across your hole.

It twitches under his fingers, begging, and so are you, just incoherent babbles as he teases you, toys with you. You think you maybe could wait him out, knowing he doesn’t get his until his cock is pressed inside you, but you don’t want to.

“Fuck,” you whimper, “please fuck me.”

“Yeah, good boy, there you are.”

You open your eyes at Santi’s voice.

“Give him what he wants, Fish. Give it to him so I can fuck you.”

Two fingers, right off the bat, pressed in slowly but surely in one swoop to the knuckle. You cry out, reaching for purchase and finding the bedsheets to twist into your clenched fists.

“You’re okay, you can take it, right?”

And it’s so goddamn mind-blowing, Santi talking you through it with Frankie’s fingers deep inside you.

You nod, opening your eyes again to look up at him. His eyes are so dark, and he’s stroking his thick cock as he continues stretching Fish out, and he looks hungry. He licks his lips and watches where Frankie’s fucking into you, boring holes where you’re connected. You have to reach down with your free hand and squeeze the base of your prick to get yourself together.

It doesn’t take long for you to adjust, to relax around his digits with a few deep breaths. He praises you, that’s it, take ‘em so well, wanna be fucked so bad don’t you? Your head spins with it as he works you open. Little by little your legs spread wider for him, hips canting up to direct him to the spot inside you that you want him to reach so desperately.

But he doesn’t. Once it’s obvious you’re ready to take him, he slips his fingers out and wipes the residue on the inside of your thigh.

“Gonna take me now?”

It’s a rhetorical question, obviously, as he grips behind your knees and pushes them to your chest. You answer anyway, your own voice so foreign to your ears as you plead for him.

Santi shushes you, and that familiar noise is calming enough to bring you back down to Earth, where he’s resting behind Frankie, one hand caressing his chest while the other grips his waist.

“Wanna be inside you, Fish,” he mumbles, nose pressed behind his ear, lips teasing his earlobe.

Fish’s eyes close, but he guides the head of his dick to your entrance and sinks in, blinding pressure as the head of him stretches you wide. When it slips past, you both gasp, and Santi groans into Frankie’s neck as he watches.

It feels like years, waiting for him to seat himself all the way inside you. It burns in the best way, friction that has goosebumps dotting every square inch of skin.

But then his thighs reach the backs of yours. He curses, moves your legs out of the way so he can cover your body with his own. Santi’s gaze is heavy where it falls, the place you and Frankie are fused together, as he spreads a healthy dollop of lube over his prick.

“Ready for me, baby?”

It’s palpable, the way the energy of the room shifts when Santi presses closer behind Frankie. Like he’s about to step off a ledge, Fish’s eyes widen and he looks at you with his brows drawn up tight. You reach for his curls, run your fingers through them, scrape your nails across his scalp in hopes that it evens out his breathing a bit.

Past Frankie’s shaking form, Santi’s expression is nearly identical. His bottom lip is caged between his teeth, brow furrowed, shoulders squared. His eyes flicker to you, and his features soften just a fraction before his hips begin to press forward.

Frankie sobs at first contact. His sweaty forehead falls to your chest. His cock is jerking inside you, rhythmic pulses as you watch Santi’s hips slowly inch forward.

“Relax for me, Fish. Deep breaths, baby. I’ve got you, take it for me.”

Santi sounds so wrecked. His voice is wispy, and so deep you can hardly hear from the bass in it. He’s never really sounded this way before, and the reality of this entire situation makes you clench around Frankie’s throbbing cock.

Santi curses in whispers, and you watch the sweat from his forehead drip down, between his eyes, down his nose, and drip onto Frankie’s heated skin. And then Frankie shifts, pulling out of you. And then, you realize, pressing Santi’s cock deeper inside himself.

You groan at the revelation, chase Fish’s hips with your own, a domino effect that sets both of them off as well. It doesn’t take much at all for them to find the right pace, like this is just as natural as everything else they do together. For a while you just take it in, let Frankie get his pleasure from you, let them discover the feeling of being so close to each other after a long while of only imagining.

Santi’s signature filthy mouth doesn’t make an appearance. Instead, he looks stunned silent above the both of you. His mouth hangs open like he wants to say something, but all that leaves his lips are grunts and groans that Frankie echoes into your sternum. His eyes don’t know where to look, so they float between where he’s fucking Frankie, and your own roaming eyes, and finally land where your hand grips Frankie’s hair.

He lets go of one of Fish’s hips to tangle his fingers with your own, tugging on those chestnut curls. Frankie slams his hips into you at the sensation, bites down on the meat of your pec and keens before he lets Santi’s grip pull his head back.

His eyes are completely fucking black, no iris to be found when his heavy eyelids open to look at you. And it’s a very strange thing, when you watch him look right through you and call out Santi’s name.

Strange, but fucking hot.

“Let it happen, Fish.”

“No. I– I can’t.”

“You can, fuck, don’t hold it. Come inside so I can fuck it out of him.”

Frankie crumbles. You watch it happen, his eyes snapping shut as he chokes on a high-pitched sound. His face twists up, and you feel his hips stutter against you as he starts chanting Santi’s name, over and over. His cock jerks with every wave of his release, and he’s shaking, collapsing dead-weight on top of you.

“That’s it, did so good. Feel so fucking good squeezing me Fish.”

You’re momentarily squished by the weight of two grown men when Santi rests against Frankie’s back. He kisses where he can reach, soothing the place on his scalp where he was tugging at the hairs.

“Mierda, Santi, get off you fucking oaf.”

And it’s cute, the way Frankie gets so grumpy even after he’s just come his brains out. You ruffle his hair, when he’s finally not sandwiched between you two, let him collapse beside you instead with a sweaty arm draped across your middle.

You only have a few moments to appreciate the tenderness before Santi’s lifting your leg onto his shoulder pressing his thick fingers inside you. The noise is obscene, and Santi swears as Frankie’s cum trickles out of you.

You know you’re in for it now. Santi sets his jaw and arranges your hips so he can slide right into you. You moan at the feeling, and the knowledge of where his cock has just been, noises tumbling out of you as he picks up the pace where Frankie left off.

And you almost forget about Fish, caught up in the pleasure of Santi railing you just how he knows you like. But then a warm, trembling hand wraps around your cock, even though Santi’s own are gripping onto you tight, and it’s heaven.

“Let me see you come,” Frankie says, voice all hoarse and worn out.

You whine, loll your head to the side to look at him.

But this time Santi’s hand is grabbing you, just shy of too rough when he takes your chin in his hand.

“You look at me. Look at me when I make you come, papi.”

And you take it as an order, because Frankie’s hand speeds up and squeezes tighter, and Santi’s fucking into you deep and fast like he does when he’s about to come.

You shake with it when it finally happens. Your spend splashes down Fish’s knuckles, up your stomach, your chest, christ some of it even lands on your chin. And you know you’re babbling but you don’t know what words you’re using, only know that they come from high in your throat as you gasp for air.

Santi follows you so closely, burying himself impossibly deep as he releases. You hear Frankie encouraging him, but the sound is miles away as your head swims in that familiar, blissful place.

When the ringing in your ears settles, and your vision unblurs, and all your nerve endings don’t feel like they’re on fire anymore, Santi’s cock has been replaced by his tongue. You give a weak protest at the overstimulation as his greedy mouth licks the mess out of you. It doesn’t matter, he comes up for air just as soon as you realize where he’s at.

Your bleary eyes watch as Santi leans over you, grabs Fish’s face in his hands and tugs at his bottom lip with one of his thumbs. Frankie opens his mouth, obedient as ever, and then a mix of Santi’s cum and his own is tumbling from Santi’s lips into Fish’s mouth.

Once the damage has been done, an image that will forever be burned into your mind, Santi lets his lips press against Frankie’s. He kisses him deep but slow, savoring the concoction of tastes, until Frankie has to lean back for air.

And then it’s silent, and still, and a pit of dread makes itself known in your gut in record time.

“I’ll grab us some towels. Don’t either of you move a muscle.”

Frankie huffs but stays put. You shake out some of the tensed-up muscles in your legs, grasping for something to say to break the tension.

Turns out you don’t have to.

“Bossy little prick,” Frankie mumbles.

It makes a giggle bubble up out of you, even though it’s not even that funny. You suppose the nervous energy needed out somehow.

“Don’t know what you see in him,” you agree.

Frankie hums, tilts his head like he’s contemplating it.

“I’m kidding. He’s sweet. You’re a lucky guy, so is he.”

You’re interrupted when Santi reenters, two fluffy towels in hand. You tidy up as best you can, then sigh when you no longer have anything to occupy your hands with.

“Stay the night?”

And this time, those familiar words are uttered by Frankie. It surprises you. For a moment you think he’s just being nice, appeasing you. But his brown eyes do that same thing that Santi’s do, where they get all wide and watery and it’s impossible to say no.

So you snuggle under the covers, and it’s a bit awkward at first with an extra set of limbs. Santi takes his coveted position as big spoon, but this time behind Fish. Then Frankie coaxes you closer, a hand at your back to urge you to rest your head on his outstretched arm.

The three of you talk about how hard you’re all going to sleep, and you close your eyes and listen to two other sets of breaths. You let it lull you to the edge of consciousness. Just before you slip under, Santi’s voice is deep and smooth.

“Te amo.”

And Frankie’s whisper is just as silky.

“Te amo.”

—

In the morning, you all wake up slow, and take care of business, and mosey out into the kitchen. It’s natural to watch Frankie make eyes at Santi over his eggs, but you know that Santi’s routine walk to your Uber will be anything but.

Their apartment door slams heavy behind you two as you head to the normal pick-up spot.

“So this is probably it, huh?”

You have to force yourself to look at Santi’s face, squinting in the mid-morning sun.

His brows draw up, and you really hope he doesn’t make this anymore awkward than it needs to be.

“It doesn’t have to be, no.”

His head shakes back and forth with his declaration, and you almost flinch when he reaches for your hand.

“Listen. Give us some time, you know? Let us… figure… this out. Once we settle, I wanna see you again. Fish does too.”

You’re sure your face is doing something funny, because Santi laughs and pushes you.

“Not gonna get rid of us that easy, cabrón.”

125 notes · View notes

safely-in-vhagars-belly · 4 months

Text

Aemond x Reader (AFAB!)

Sweet Nothing (formerly known as games in the libarary part 2!)

Aemond x reader (Tutor/gamer au) Fluffish and also smuttish

🔷Summary: Your GPA is tanking and you need help. Luckily there is the grumpy antisocial Aemond to help you out.

🔷Author's note: Based on tutor aus but I made my own spin on it.

🔷Wordcount:5389

🔷Warnings: Au universe, smut, depraved thoughts, bullying, (not aemond or mc bullying each other) rich privilege and bad parenting and the word so*p.

NAMECHANGE: A reader left a comment saying they were listening to the song ''Sweet nothing'' by taylor swift and wrote it fitted them really well so I changed the title! I hope you all like the new title:))

There is something aesthetically pleasing about college parties. Especially if they are thrown by one of your best friends, Baela Targaryen. You heard Aemond is her older something, although the Targaryen family tree has the same effect as math on your brain: It turns to soup.

You despise soup.

It is the wettest of foods, the smell, but most, you hate the name. The word appears unnatural to you, as if someone had just thrown it together-

‘’You OK?’’ A gentle yet rough edged voice brings you out of your moral debate about why soup sucks. Aemond Targaryen has followed you loyally around (with your consent, this is not a stalker situation) campus and now you both approach one of the frat houses. The house is as big as a mansion and you sometimes wonder what illegal schemes the boys of the frat house and the university you attend get up to even afford the rent of this bohemian building.

It is odd. Prior to this whole day, you didn’t know Aemond could care about anything but himself, his grades, and his silly little motorcycle (he calls it Vhagar, and it’s a ‘’she’’ apparently. You find that a bit silly, but some things that men are oddly attached to receive that treatment. Like boats) Yet here he is, asking if you are OK.

You want to cheerfully ring out that you never have been better, but realization soon hits you that it's been a while that anyone was truly interested in how you were doing. If anyone cared at all.

‘’That is a complicated question.’’ You admit.

‘’With a complicated answer, I assume?’’ He is too clever for his own good.

You chuckle. ‘’Yeah. I’m doing fine.’’ Why you feel the need to lie to him, you don’t know.

Finally you both approach the gold with blue gatework where the three Valyrian words are chiseled into the framework of the gates. Aemond crosses his arms over his chest, his backpack over half his right shoulder, threatening to fall off any moment now. He clears his throat and reads the words out loud to you. ‘’Dracarys, Dona Daorun.’’ You know some of these words. One, to be exact. ‘’Such a odd motto.’’ He adds.

Even from the garden you can hear the noises of the party, chatting, spattering of water and even loud music as someone likely brought a speaker. Or three, if you know your friends well.

Aemond seems to stiffen at the noise, his blue eyes alarmed and doubt written across his face. Instead of letting him run off, you lace your fingers through his own,and simply drag him inside with you.

‘’Pool parties are my favorite.’’ You tell Aemond with a wink. ‘’I love swimming. I always wanted to be a mermaid when I-’’ You notice his cold and suddenly icy stare at the host of the party, who approaches you in his swimming trunks.

Jacaerys Velyaron simply runs a hand through his brown hair, pushing it back slightly before greeting you as if you two are long lost friends. ‘’Y/n! You made it!’’ He grins, likely already tipsy to say the least. He looks Aemond over and you both look like you’d belong anywhere but a pool party. ‘’And you brought a friend.’’ He adds. You chuckle uncomfortably at his icy tone. As if you brought a wooden horse in and the soldiers have crawled out.

‘’I hope it’s cool?’’ you say, waving enthusiastically at your friends. They don’t wave back, red plastic cups in hands and judgemental stares all over you, but especially over Aemond who is holding his backpack only tighter, regret mirroring in his good eye as he plays with a ring on his fingers.

Luckily Jace seems to agree.

‘’You know me too well.’’ He puts his hand on your back, escorting you quickly away from Aemond. ‘’Baela wants your help, I believe. And Daemon wants to play seven minutes but he has no one who wants to play.’’ You wrinkle your nose. Daemon is a sweet, but very intense guy. He means no harm, he is just a bit too intense for you. Plus, you were certain he and Queen B Rhaenyra were dating. You at least assumed so, after Rhaenyra’s claim was made on Daemon in the form of some pretty aggressive tongue locking.

You feel so glad to see Baela that you forget all about Aemond. ‘’Oh my gosh, Y/N! Finally free of your horror session!’’ She exclaims, perhaps a bit too loud before pushing you into an exeratated and perhaps bone-crushing and soul-vanishing hug. You hug her back, of course, pretending to go alone with her agreeing you enjoy your freedom…

Although you aren’t sure why she thought you were in peril?

And horror sessions?

You think back of the way that Aemond topped you in the library, fucking you just in the right spot at the sweet oak desk-

The only horror of it was the numbers perhaps. The rest of it felt nice. Your eyes wander to some of the guys, mostly jocks and athletes drinking in the corner of the room, gathered around in a circle when placing bets and boasting about their conquest. Aemond didn’t need to be nice, yet he treated you better than most of your ex boyfriends. He maybe wanted to be inside you all the same, but he bothered to offer lunch after, and when you talked, he listened. He paid attention. Your exes mostly were lost in the front of your shirt, or tried to shut you up with kisses. You thought it was affection. Now it sickenings you to think of it.

And just like that, your usual jock conversations don’t do the thing for you anymore. A tall jock named Laenor jokes with you about how a girl had a stutter when asking him out and all you think about is how Laenor and your friends would react if they would find out you are far from perfect.

That numbers cause wars in your head, that math frightens you, that your brain can’t handle puzzles and that it all is sometimes so much to handle, to know your brain works differently, it’s sometimes a lot. It would be nice, if someone would understand. Just once.

You notice Baela has gone missing. So has Jace. Not this again. ‘’I thought we all had agreed that we would not let Baela hook up with Jace again?’’ You scold the other girls. One of them, named Sara just shrugs.

‘’O, we totally agreed that we would, this morning when getting boba. You were missing, so you didn’t notice it.’’ She smiles sweetly but you have played Stardew Valley. You have endured the caves. You know when a skeleton is smiling at you. Fuck, you watched the vampire dairies. You know when someone is out there, for your neck. ‘’When you did your cute little charity project.’’

‘’Aemond is just a friend.’’ You hear yourself say the words before you can control yourself.

Is he? Then why do you feel the sting of that lie? Then why let him fuck you in a library? Then why tell him more about you than any of your friends? Then why invite him?

You think back of Aemond, suddenly all alone by the gates and turn back around, looking for him. The more ground you cover, passing by making out couples and gambling, the more your mind tells you something is wrong.

When you arrive by the pool, you hear Jace and his closest circle of friends laughing, as well as Baela. ‘’You saw the way he looked? I thought he was gonna cry there for a moment.’’ Jace taunts, kissing Baela drunk all over her cheek. Baela giggles and turns to face you.

‘’Y/n. Rhaenyra wants us all to get coffee tomorrow. I know you are currently busy with your charity project but do keep in mind that we must all respect the social hierarchy.’’ You nod absent, more dread filling your stomach as you eye the water, where something or someone clearly came out of or someone was pushed in.

‘’Did you guys see Aemond?’’ You ask, almost ignoring Baela’s suggestion, and Rhaenyra’s clear invention to once again snoop in your life.

‘’Aemond? What do you want with that loser?’’

Daemon finally has enough of Rhaenyra and walks over to you, but Rhaenyra remains watchful as a hawk, her arms crossed and her lips perfect in a scowl. In your circles it's unheard of to steal one’s boyfriend, even if the relationship is broken up. Aside from that, Daemon is hot but also hotheaded and a real pain in the ass when he wants to be.

You lie again. ‘’Nothing. I just have his books.’’ You don’t. He took them all with him. You only have his cum likely inside of you, thank the gods for the pill.

He scales you up and down, and you feel uncomfortable. ‘’Hm. You go do that, little thing. I have something for him.’’ He takes a moment and dramatically picks up something near the pool. You watch in horror as he pulls out a soaked notebook in your eyes proof that they threw Aemond and his books in the pool.

You feel the blood leave your face.

You brought him here.

You did this.

‘’What did you do?’’ You demand, your voice becoming unnaturally sharp and cold.

Daemon is not used to that and turns to Baela who looks shocked that you dare to address Daemon that way, over someone as Aemond. ‘’We threw his backpack in the pool.’’ Daemon says, like it's obvious, gesturing to the pool like you can’t see for yourself. ‘’The little shit had it coming all those years ago. He went after it. It was like watching a little puppy drown.’’ He likely went to grab his bag. Can Aemond even swim?

Jace laughs. ‘’Daemon jumped in and held him under water for a few minutes.’’ You nearly choke on the air you take.

‘’You what?’’ You don’t care that Daemon can beat you up or is the king of the school. That goes too far in your book. Aemond could have died.

Baela grabs your wrists, so she can look into your eyes.

‘’Why do you care? It’s funny. Aemond is a loser.’’ She says, as if she is somehow hypnotizing you into becoming her mindless follower again.

But this time, you win.

‘’That’s…not funny, Baela. That is dangerous and messed up.’’ You pull your hands away, and take off running back to the gates, looking for Aemond. You have made a mistake. But how long ago did you make this? How long were you a silent bully, a witness to a tyrant? How many Aemonds did you ignore?

You finally spot him, his jacket drenched walking down the dark street, his backpack half open and his face wet of either tears or water. You rush over, calling his name. At first he ignores you. The second time, he turns around glaring at you. ‘’I should have known it was too good to be true.’’ He says, finally his voice strangled. ‘’Which of them came up with the little game? I bet it was Baela.’’

‘’What Game?’’ But you already know. He thinks this was all a cruel joke to harm and humiliate him. To break his heart.

He scoffs. ‘’This game. You are pretending to care about me. You fucking me and letting me-’’ He points a finger at you accusingly but does not have the energy left to fight.

You rush after him. ‘’I’m sorry. I didn’t know you and Jace had history. And I didn’t know they would do this to you. Whatever you need replaced, I can-’’

And that is even worse. You are a rich girl, after all.

‘’Don’t bother.’’ He snaps at you. ‘’I want you to leave me alone.’’

You don’t know how to convince him to let you in again. You suppose honesty is the best approach. ‘’I’m sorry. I never should have brought you here. But you always seemed so lonely and-’’

‘’Why do you care?!’’ You are startled by his harsh tone but don’t back down. Instead you fold your hands and blink away tears you didn’t even know you had. Your voice is a soft, sweet whisper.

You know why you care. ‘’Because perhaps I know what it's like to be lonely. Perhaps I liked the guy you are when no one is around. Maybe I wanted to know you a bit better. Not all of us rich kids are malicious assholes like Daemon, you know?’’ He seems to take his armor off at those words, his face softening and avoiding your eyes, a clear sign of regret for yelling at you. You reach out to him, kneeling at his feet.

Aemond blushes in the light of the streetlights, quickly looking around for witnesses and anyone else who might see. ‘’Wow-’’ He nearly shouts in pure surprise, and you grin at where his mind went.

‘’Don’t get excited, mister. I’m just checking the damage.’’ You tell him. ‘’Sir.’’ You add with a cheeky grin. He holds back a soft groan, although you hear it perfectly. You open the backpack, taking his books out for him and putting them on the street, oblivious to your surroundings as you start examining them.

Most of these cost at least 500. And they are all ruined. Aemond mentioned before, he isn’t a ‘’rich little girl’’ like you, and likely does not have the funds to replace these books he needs for his study. You put them back in his backpack, but you and Aemond are not stupid.

You can both tell these books are done for.

And so is Aemond if you don’t fix this mess.

‘’I am so sorry.’’ You tell him. ‘’I had no idea they were capable of this.’’ You were blind. Just as blind as Aemond.

He nods, pretending to be aloof and cool about it, but you can judge by the way his eye is glued to his shoes that he is anything but cool about this. ‘’Nothing that can be done now.’’ You refuse to believe that. There’s gotta be something. Anything.

‘’That is not true.’’ You look at his books. ‘’I’m sure there’s a solution.’’

There has to be.

Certainly.

But Aemond does not want to hear it. Instead he heads toward his dorm. You follow him, lost as a puppy, carrying his backpack for him as he gave up on it. He may have given up on it, but you won’t give up on it yet.

–

Half an hour later, the door of the dorm door opens as you enter it. Aemond is laying on his bed, playing with a sapphire. He looks at you and you are confronted with the hole where his eye used to be. He curses, quickly covering his eye and searches for his eyepatch. You put the new textbooks on the table. Aemond’s mouth drops as he takes in the brand new books. ‘’No.’’ He simply declares. ‘’No, I can’t accept this. This is insane this must cost-’’ You will murder this man.

He smells freshly showered, and judging by his hair he just got a shower, a fresh set of clothes that haven’t felt your skin yet, and a attitude that makes your inner brat go wild. Focus!

You did have to pull some strings but you don’t mind. So what if your stepdick does not give you allowance for two whole weeks? So what if your mother is ‘’beyond disappointed?’’ Like she cares. If she really cared, she’d ditch that awful guy and fly home from her paradise fucking in Dorne.

If she cared, she’d know you had the diagnosis NVLD since you were six and would never even be considered to graduate in a math study like Aemond. She would know, these books are not meant for you. She would, if only she cared. Which she obviously, does not.

You silence Aemond with a gesture. ‘’Nothing. Consider it your payment for being patient with me during our lessons. If you still wish to continue it, of course.’’ You say. ‘’I took care of it. It’s fine.’

‘’Of course it is.’’ It does not matter if you meant well, Aemond sees it as a confirmation that he, as an average earning person, can never not have the same chances as a rich girl like yourself. He could be Einstein reborn and nothing could open the doors that are thrown open for you.

‘’If you feel bad, you take some classes I don’t do. And not all your books were in your bag. You can take the books from those subjects, and we can share during our shared subjects? Unless you think it’s stupid and want nothing to do with me, I’ll vanish from your life like a sock in a washing machine-’’ He simply cups your chin, kissing your forehead. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, fighting your emotions. He waits for you to push away.

You don’t.

So he leans in, kissing your lips.

‘’Thank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’This is like the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me.’’ He says, a bit emotional.

‘’That’s what friends do.’’ You tell him.

His response breaks your heart. ‘’Hm. I never counted myself lucky enough to find that out.’’

You notice the mood changes quickly and becomes sad again. You don’t deal with that very well. If at all. ‘’So, show me around!’’ He chuckles at your eagerness, getting up from the bed, putting the sapphire he was playing with aside on his nightstand.

‘’So, this is where the magic happens.’’ He gestures to his bed, with Pokémon covers on it. He seems to notice that a moment too late and shakes his head at you, blushing brightly. ‘’I- they’re a gift from my brother.’’ He quickly blurts out. ‘’We give each other silly things for the solstice. I gave him a Charmender plushie.’’

‘’I like squirtle.’’ You tell him with a wink. ‘’He’s perhaps a bit rough around the edges, but he’s a good guy.’’

Aemond blushes again, catching on.

‘’He’s pretty great. Do you have a favorite Pokémon?’’

You think, for a moment, and only the yellow little electrician shows up, the one that clings to the main guy in the show (or is it an anime?) who goes ‘’Pika! Pika, pika!’’ and shoots lightning out of his butt. Or tail.

That is not very impressive to you, to pick Pickahu. It’s a cliche. Aemond likely will want to hear another Pokémon. A clever one, a cute Pokémon that befits your personality and your whole life.

You think back to when you were alone for your 7th birthday party. The chefs at your home had put on pancakes and you had more toys and gifts than you could count. But your mother wasn’t there. Again, gone with the Stepdick. But you know who was there? Pikachu. It was all you could rely on. Pikachu would always be there.

‘’I can only think of the main one. Sorry.’’ you confess. ‘’Pikachu.’’

He looks you up and down, as if picturing you…perhaps as a Pokémon?

‘’Don’t be. I think it fits you very well. Pickachu is a little happy fella with a big heart. That suits you perfectly, actually.’’ He tells you, smiling still like an idiot. You bet you have the same smile.

You notice his room is clean of clothing. By the desk stands a small tv, with a clear Nintendo switch docked in. You cautiously walk over, eying the switch without touching it. ‘’Yep. That is my pride and joy.’’ Aemond confirms, following you like a shadow.

You notice a big purple controller on the desk. When you accidentally bump against the desk, the controller lights up, showing you beautiful neon lights in rainbow colors. ‘’Wow. Cool controller.’’ You gently pick it up. You feel a thick almost rubber coating on the controls, and despite your hands being much smaller than Aemond’s, the controller fits perfectly.

‘’Feels funny…’’

Aemond does not say much, but you know he wants you to put it back. So you do. ‘’Uhm, yeah.’’ He comments, blushing. ‘’Uhm, purple was all there was left.’’

‘’O. I saw they have cool Zelda ones.’’ You tell him.

He looks away. ‘’They’re..expensive.’’

‘’O, right. Sorry.’’ You continue your tour. Aemond turns his controller off, and you notice some walls are there that weren’t there before. You notice a small box with a figurine sitting on a shelf by his bed, you didn’t notice before somehow. Likely too busy staring at Aemond’s wet silky hair, and his deep sad eye….

‘’Oh my gosh,’’ you mutter delightedly. ‘’You have Funko!’’ It is true. There are at least ten boxes with famous characters sitting on his shelf. You walk over, inspecting them closer, but without touching them.

Aemond rubs his neck, a bit blushing. ‘’You dig?’’

You nod, enthusiastically. ‘’Absolutely. My stepfather and I don't agree on a lot of things, But we agree that Funko’s are worth investing in. And just look how cute they are!’’ You notice a funko of GhostFace, the killer of scream, a funko of Squirtle (of course) and likely more of fantasy books and series you never truly got into.

Aemond laughs, relieved. ‘’I’m glad you like them. I sometimes worry people might find them stupid.’’ You stop glancing at his Funkos, looking back at him.

‘’I would never find anything stupid. I know too well how hurtful it is when people think you are stupid.’’ You say. Aemond nods at your words, agreeing. He is busy with rubbing his neck muscles, a pained expression almost printed on his face.

‘’Aemond, are you OK?’’ You move a bit closer to where he is sitting on the bed.

He nods, rubbing his neck still. ‘’It’s just my muscles. So annoying.’’

You look around for a pillow, picking one up from the ground.

You put it on the bed for him. ‘’I like your dorm. It is calm here. I live in a sorority. Sometimes I can barely think.’’ You admit to him.

Aemond pushes the pillow behind his back, nodding to you as if to say that you can continue your rant. ‘’You know your secret is safe with me?’’ He asks, confirming your gut. ‘’I made the mistake of telling Daemon something, and he turned it against me. I will keep it a secret.’’ He promises.

‘’What happened at the pool?’’ You ask eventually.

Aemond recalls it all too well. ‘’Well, Jace came over. He told me to get the fuck out, that you were tongue deep wrapped around a guy’s cock? Laenor or something?’’ He looks at you, giving you the chance to deny it.

You open your mind.

Aemond interrupts however. ‘’However, I know Laenor is gay. He once paid me to do an essay for him for History and he had company over when I was handing it in.’’ You don’t notice any scoffing or mocking or ill jokes.

‘’Aemond Targaryen, did you help someone cheat?’’ You tease, grinning. You like that he has a darker hidden side. He only raises his brows, slightly blushing and avoiding your eyes, biting on his under lip. Gods, that’s so hot.

He nods. ‘’It was justified. I needed money to buy a controller.’’ And controllers are expensive.

He picks the story back up where he left it. ‘’Daemon came over, told me that playtime was over. I tried to walk away, I did. He and his friends cornered me and Daemon threw me in the pool, bag and all.’’ Playtime is over? What does that mean?

‘’I tried to get out, but Daemon was faster. He grabbed me by the skull and kept my head down underwater. I am not a good swimmer. I tried kicking, resurfacing and even biting him, but he was stronger. I really thought he’d kill me.’’ You listen, imagining Aemond dead at the bottom of a pool. You don’t like that idea.

Aemond sighs, covering his face with both his hands. ‘’Oh, now I need to tell you, don’t I?’’ He sighs. ‘’The truth is: The controller is not expensive. I needed to get this one, because it has ergonomic grips.’’ So that is what you felt. ‘’I need special controllers. I have special pencils too. Just stabilos but, still.’’

It clicks.

‘’You have something with your muscles, don’t you?’’ You recall the way he wrote down the sums in your notebook, his handwriting beautiful but the way he held onto that pencil…

Aemond nods. ‘’Yeah. I’ve got Hypermobility, basically. It moves my joints much further-’’ To prove his point, he moves his thumb, now bent in an unnatural position. At first you are shocked by the ease and how quick he could do that. Then, you become curious.

‘’So, is that why you can’t swim?’’

‘’Ouch.’’ Yet he keeps smiling, likely happy to tell someone, anyone about this. ‘’No, I can swim. Just not that long, and not that fast. My muscles tire faster than usual but if I just exercise regularly, it should not be an issue.’’ He wrinkles his nose, grinning as if telling you what he thinks of that. ‘’I should swim more, but I haven't had the chance yet with classes and stuff.’’

You sit there in silence. There have been countless days you cried because you always assumed you were the only one at college who had these things. Things like your math-soup. Yet here is someone else, who too, is struggling in their own way. In a way it is disgusting to think about it, but it makes you feel less alone. It makes you feel something you haven’t felt ever before. It makes you feel ….

Good enough.

Capable.

Hopeful for the future.

Aemond switches his thumb back in its regular position, and you wonder if the long fingers are part of the condition he has. It likely is, as Aemond’s fingers are really tall. ‘’Now you know something about me too.’’ Aemond says. ‘’Although, I would appreciate you keeping this a secret.’’ He adds. ‘’I don’t want pity or special treatment. I’m sure you can relate to that.’’ Yeah, you do.

‘’Or worse, people telling me what I can and can’t do. Just because I have a condition, a disability, so to speak, does not mean that I’m helpless or something.’’ He rambles on. You nod.

You see the final shelf above the closet of Aemond’s room. You take note of a few plushies, mostly squirtle but another one takes your interest. It is a adorable devil like creature with big ears and a wooden stick in its hand.

‘’Who’s that?’’ You ask him, pointing to the red little fella. Aemond follows your finger, looking at the plush. He breaks into a grin, quickly rushing over to the plush, picking it up so you may see it up close.

‘’That’s from Zelda.’’ He begins to tell, excited to share this with you.

‘’That’s Link?’’

He looks a little different than on the box art you’ve seen. Link is usually a humanoid guy with blonde hair. Not a red devil creature with a smile so big you’d assume it learned when the world will end.

‘’No, that’s a Bokoblin’’ Aemond gently corrects you. ‘’He’s like the goomba of the game. They attack Link.’’ Aemond rambles off to tell you about Zelda, where you would encounter the creatures, and how they prefer meat, but accept fruit as well, almost as humans. He also shows you different patterns of bokoblins, and depending on the color, the level of difficulty to defeat them changes.

‘’So what do you do once you got them all beaten?’’ You ask.

He breaks into a grin. ‘’Oh, that’s the wonderful thing about this game. Once in a few days, there is a Blood Moon. All enemies you killed respawn. The bad guy resurrects them. The souls find their bodies, once more.’’ He shows you a video he made on his switch.

From the very first time you saw that moon rise up on where Aemond’s Link was standing, slowly covering the world in the red, threatening life and hearing the tense music play, and just Aemond being next to you on his bed, unaware of you holding his hand, you were done for. The bokoblin looks at you from where Aemond put him on the desk. A temporary spot, you are certain.

‘’Hey, uhm Aemond?’’ You ask, breaking his concentration as he searches for more videos to show you. He looks up, and you are confronted once again with his elf-like face.

‘’Remember when you said that I would like Zelda?’’ You ask.

He nods. You nod to his switch. You are nervous but shoot your shot.

‘’If you want, can we perhaps play it? If you are near me, I can ask whatever questions I’ve got without feeling stupid.’’ Aemond perks up at that, nearly causing his head to bump at your own.

‘’No one knows everything on their first play through. You are not stupid. This game came out in 2017, I picked it up years later for my birthday, and I still discover stuff years later.’’ He says. You nod, still awaiting his no or yes.

‘’Of course, I want to play Zelda with you.’’

Aemond and you nestle up on the bed, forgetting all about the world outside his dorm. He takes the controller from the desk, handing it to you. He creates a special profile on his switch for you, although you protest at first. He has however 3 empty slots so he claims he does not mind. After your profile has been made, he opens Zelda for you. Then he just watches you, plays, discovers and lives.

—

You run around as Link in circles, not bothering to put the clothes on that you found earlier. You notice beautiful mushrooms near the cave, so you pick them. Aemond watches you play, an amused smile on his lips as you discover the truly wild and boundless experience of this game.

You notice an old man sitting near a fire. ‘’Talk to him. He is important.’’ Aemond says, without spoiling too much. You have Link run over, still wearing just his underwear. In enthusiasm, you double click, but by doing so, you steal a cooked apple in front of the man, likely the owner.

‘’Hey, that’s my apple! This won’t stand!’’ The man says.

’Oh fuck, will he hate me now?’’ You ask Aemond. Aemond laughs, but not at you. He just seems to enjoy being with you.

He shakes his head and moves a little closer to you. ‘’Nah. He can’t hate you. You’re kinda perfect.’’ You blush as he moves a little closer, kissing your cheeks.

—-

Soon after that encounter you finally see a bokoblin wander around. Well, it kind of came jumping out of a bush and tried to kill you, but you do not mind.

You rush at them. ‘’Hug time!’’ You declare. In your hand is a stick. You don’t expect to actually hug the creature, but to hit them. That is actually a lot more difficult than it appears, as the creature jumps out of the way, attacking you back.

Eventually you are defeated and turn to Aemond for help, who gives you a few tips.

Together you slay the monster.

And take his horns, for some reason.

—----

It is late now, almost one in the morning. It is sunday today and thank the gods for it.

You and Aemond are still up, bottles of soda and pringle cans opened up around you, as your eyes are glued to the screen. You and Aemond have just met Impa, and you are tired, but you can’t seem to stop playing. A yiga clan member ambushes you, and despite your pathetic little squeak of surprise, you manage to defeat it. Alone.

Eventually you fall asleep, in Aemond’s room, his body close to yours. The controller remains on the bed, between an empty bowl of pringles and Aemond’s bokoblin plushie. You hear Aemond’s gentle snore and just close your eyes and welcome the sound of nothing.

Just Sweet nothing.

57 notes · View notes

thebestofoneshots · 10 months

Note

Star please! My pronouns are she/her and I am into guys, and am open to poly!marauders!

If you know star signs: I’m a Libra sun, Aries moon, sag rising, Libra mercury, Leo Venus, and libra mars

I’m an intp, 6’1, and I play volleyball. I love listening to music and have a record collection! I’m also a huge film buff :) I’m pretty shy but make friends very easily. People often tell me to speak up but my voice is just not super loud lol. I don’t always like to, but I’m getting better at standing up for myself. My love language varies person to person, but I love physical touch, quality time, and giving gifts.

Thank you so much and congrats on the milestone!! You deserve it all and so much more, you are such a good writer :)

If you want to participate in "TBOS' 400 Followers Celebration" too, you can look at this post for all the options of prompts you can choose from <3

I definitely ship you with Sirius and James. However, Sirius was the first one to notice you. It all started during Christmas when you received a package from your Muggle family. It contained yet another record for your collection – the Diamond Dogs deluxe edition by David Bowie. You were instantlly excited by it, and youre excitment could be percived by others.

Sirius, allthought unfamiliar with the album, instantly recognized Bowie on the cover so he approached you with a playful grin, “Hey sweets, you’re in my Transfiguration class, aren’t you?”

You nodded, “You’re Sirius Black.”

He smiled, glad that you recognized him too, and casually sat next to you, leaning his head on his hand as he looked at you. Initially, you found it a bit strange how comfortable he seemed around you, but his relaxed aura eventually put you at ease.

He shared how he had stayed at school during Christmas to help his friend with some tasks, and how he didn’t really want to go home because of his less-than-pleasant family. You told him about your Muggle family and how they believed it was best for you to stay at school to avoid the Death Eaters. You admitted missing your family and being happy to receive a letter from them.

When the conversation grew somber, he skillfully changed the topic and asked about your album. Excitedly, you shared details about your collection and music preferences. He told you about the cassettes he had received from his cousin Andromeda and promised to make you a mixtape someday. He enjoyed making them for his friends. Your bond only strengthened from that point, and Sirius developed a massive crush on you, growing every time he discovered something new about you. He thought you were absolutely magical, and that, without even thinking about the fact that you were quite literally a witch.

One day, you were in Sirius' room listening to your records since you didn't want to disturb your roommates. James Potter entered, not noticing you both resting on the floor with your backs against the bed. Assuming he was alone, he started humming along to your favorite song. Just as you were about to speak up, Sirius covered your mouth, a cheeky grin on his face. Soon, James started his own impromptu concert, singing at the top of his lungs. Eventually, he began dancing and spotted both of you, with Sirius' hand still covering your mouth.

"Padfoot!" He said reproachfully.

You removed Sirius’ hand from your mouth and gave James an apologetic smile “Hey James!” you said quietly “That was great conert.”

James turned beet red upon realizing you'd seen his performance "How long did you—"

"—The whole thing," Sirius teased.

James was so distressed at that point the only thing you could think to do to ease the tension was to smile at him and say “Wanna join us?”

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a shy James Potter in your life, but here he was, nodding quietly and walking to seat beside you. You were sitting in the middle, with the two boys at your side. And you three just grew closer from then, it was like the boys didn’t want to be away from you.

While in the beginning you thought Sirius was clingy, he had nothing on James Potter. Whenever they were around you, they were close, in a very literal sense. They always had to be touching you somehow, either by brushing shoulder to shoulder, an arm draped over you, or leaning their heads on your shoulders in the Great Hall, especially Sirius, who always complained about having to wake up early for flying. Those touches slowly became something more: kisses on the cheek, holding your hand, a cheeky hand on your thigh, or backhugs. And while they did sometimes fight for your affection, neither of them seemed bothered by the other pulling you onto their lap or snuggling you closer to them.

One day, you were listening to music in the common room and there was no one else around since you had skipped a class to be there. You were leaning against James’ chest while Sirius had his head resting on your lap; he’d asked you to play with his hair. It was often that you cuddled with the two at the same time, and you loved it, but it also confused you. You somehow mustered up the courage to ask, “What are we?”

“We’re Gryffindors,” James replied at the same time that Sirius said something like “The stars of the show.”

You sighed at their answer and motioned for Sirius to sit up with a light pull on his shoulders. “I meant what are we…” you said, emphasizing the last bit by pointing at the three of you.

James and Sirius exchanged a look. They’d had this conversation before, neither of them willing to give you up, so they settled on sharing. They were both okay with it; in fact, they enjoyed cuddling each other too. “Whatever you want us to be, angel,” Sirius answered earnestly, grabbing one of your hands and intertwining your fingers together.

“If you want us to pull away, or one of us to step back away, we’ll respect your wish, but–” James started.

“–Neither of us wants that,” Sirius finished.

You looked at the two of them. “Neither… neither do I.”

BONUS:

The mixtape Sirius made for you: 1. "Space Oddity" by David Bowie 2. "Dream On" by Aerosmith 3. "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin 4. "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye 5. "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen 6. "Hotel California" by Eagles 7. "Imagine" by John Lennon 8. "Let's Stay Together" by Al Green 9. "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton 10. "You're My Best Friend" by Queen

A/N: Hope you like this lil thing I made for you sweets, it got out of hand, as always, but I kind of absolutely adore the result, our boys are so adorbale, it's almost impossible to handle ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

Sending you great vibes, Lilly xxx

MASTERLIST

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fuck-you-upmusicbracket · 5 months

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Father's Lament (Poor Man's Poison)

I've played the part, and I've played the fool, and I been used/And I let them get the best of me, but it was all for you/For what it's worth I never meant you any pain/Just so you know I love you both just the same

"This song is the story of a man who has two sons with two different women. It's not clear if it's because he was unfaithful or had two marriages, but it is clear his both lovers resent him and feel betrayed. He still loves his sons equally, regardless of how they were born. More then anything he regrets that what he did has fractured both halves of his family and promises both boys that he will do what he can to make it up to them, however he can. I'm not even listening to it but I'm getting choked up rn so I'd say it messes me up (in such a good way) Also the instrumental is just so soft and sorrowful, it's amazing . s for projecting it onto blorbos, I imagine an AU where the villain (who canonically loses two of his three children) acknowledges that he ruined his surviving son's life and tries to make up while the younger two's ghosts are hanging around as (what's assumed to be) hallucinations"

I/Me/Myself (Will Wood)

I wish I could be a girl, and that way/You'd wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend/Am I pretty enough to love back?/No not yet/I wish I could be a girl, and really/I'd prefer it if you would use I/Me/MyselfAm I pretty enough, am I pretty enough to fucking die?

"Do you KNOW what the line “I am quantum physics, my witness brings me into existence” has DONE to me. to my psyche. because it’s like. okay so I’m so sorry if you know all of this already but in quantum physics theres something called the observer effect, where if you you measure something, it affects it. Like by checking tyre pressure, you have to let some air out, so you can’t physically measure it without changing what you’re measuring. in normal day to day life (like the tyre) this doesn’t really matter, because the effect is so small that you can basically ignore it. but quantum physics deals with really REALLY small shit so every single effect matters. Basically. observation of an object changes it’s state. this line is about acceptance. the euphoria of someone calling you by your preferred pronouns or chosen name. observation changing your state. It might seem small to others- someone who’s never been misgendered in their life it’s not even something that would occur to them, but to a trans/nb person who’s being observed, being SEEN? it’s everything. AND THE SHEER PUNCH OF “say my name like a slur, but I’ve been called worse” like. FUCK. oaky I think I’ve rambled enough about One Entire Line so lemme just wrap this up by saying that Will Wood is a cis man who ID’ as genderqueer for a while before realising that he wasn’t, he just had some internalised shit about being gnc and not traditionally masculine to work through, so he wrote this song about his frustrations with gender in general and about how clinging to an identity that didn’t fit him can hurt you"

#fuck you up bracket #tournament #polls #poor man's poison #will wood

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lampmanliveblogs · 1 day

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So if jaspis is the Swedish word for jasper, then what do you guys use as Lapis Lazuli and Jasper's ship name?

Good question! Sadly, there are two fundamental misconceptions at the basis of this question, two assumptions you made that are not true.

It implies there is a swedish fandom. There isn’t. There are swedish fans. I’ve found forum posts discussing how bad the dub is, there was enough of an audience to make a fuzz about an iffy translation choice, and I’ve even found some fan translations and covers of songs. HERE is a whole playlist.

The truth is that most swedish fans who were old enough to want to engage in a fandom, look at fanart, read fanfic, etc, they probably did what I did: watch the show in english and then join the english-speaking fandom. I only started watching the dub out of morbid curiosity, and then I watched the entire thing with my little brother who doesn’t know much english yet.

You give the dub too much credit. You are correct in assuming they would translate the gems’ names, because they did do that. So Garnet is called Granat, Amethyst is called Ametist, and Pearl is called Pärlan (a translation I’m not fond of for reasons I won’t go into now).

Your mistake is in thinking that they would be consistent with this. Like, at all. The dub is consistently inconsistent with its naming scheme. I have a conspiracy theory, that the show was translated by three different people who took turns doing different episodes, but they did not talk to each other and they maybe also hated each other.

The worst offender is what they did to my poor cotton candy-haired goddess Rose Quartz. Rose Quartz is ”Rosenkvarts” in swedish. You could call her Ros for short. Maybe Rosa, if you wanna be cute. They did not do that, oh no. They called her, drum roll… Rose Kvarts. Which is some swenglish nonsense and every time they say that, it inflicts psychic damage on me.

So what does this mean for everyone’s favorite Big Buff Ostbåge? Well, they did not bother translating Jasper’s name, they just call her… Jasper. They also do this with Ruby, Sapphire, and a few others. However, remember, consistently inconsistent. There are, according to the notes I took while watching the show with my brother, two episodes where they DO call Jasper ”Jaspis.” Super Watermenlon Island and Crack the Whip. And again, Ruby and Sapphire suffered this as well, occasionally being called ”Rubin” and ”Safir.”

Conclusion Let’s construct three scenarios wherein there is a swedish fandom of Steven Universe.

In the first scenario, the swedish-speaking fandom uses the names as they are given within the dub, prioritizing the first or most common name used. In this scenario, the Jasper/Lapis Lazuli ship would probably still be called Jaspis. I can imagine it being bit of a meme with people being like ”You ship Jaspis? D-do you ship her with herself?” and everyone has a sensible chuckle about it.

In the second scenario, the swedish-speaking fandom uses the original english names for the characters, as well as the ship names. In this scenario, the Jasper/Lapis Lazuli ship is still called Jaspis.

In the third scenario, the dub was not a nigh-incomprehensible mess, but translated all the gem names properly, as it should have done. In this scenario, what would the swedish-speaking fandom call the Jasper/Lapis Lazuli ship, or rather, the Jaspis/Lapis Lazuli ship? I don’t know, but I’m partial to Jazuli. Maybe Laspis?

Final Thoughts This ask reignited a dormant hatred within me, hatred I thought I had outgrown and left behind. I was certain I didn’t need it. But it is a part of me, the part I always have to repress. I don’t know that I can do it much longer.

#ask #steven universe #steven universe swedish dub #the lampman about to enter his villain era?

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mapizb99 · 11 months

Text

SPOILERS!

Thoughts on the awakening movie

Ok so I have thoughts, not very organized thoughts but thoughts nonetheless

1) why was Marinette’s voice actress when she was singing SO DIFFERENT from her speaking one??? It took me out of the movie every single time.

2) there were too many songs and the fact that none of them were Ce mur qui nous separe is heartbreaking. At the third Marinette song I was rolling my eyes. Plus they all felt pretty same-y and I didn’t think any of the, were particularly good.

3) the scenes felt SO disjointed! Like they had some cool storyboards but weren’t quite sure how to join them together.

4) the whole story felt kinda like that to me, like they couldn’t quite explore all the elements they wanted to include and relies a lot on the fact that we already know (and love) the characters, like if it was my first approach to the universe I’d feel like the movie was rushed and shallow.

5) on a more positive note the animation was incredibly beautiful, a few characters felt a little too baby faced but the lighting and textures really made this very pretty to look at.

6) what was Gabriel’s villain song? It’s like they had an interesting idea but they just couldn’t deliver (which unfortunately rings true for most of the movie)

7) related to Marinette and her many many songs was her character arc, it felt kinda all over the place, like her whole “gotta face my fears” lesson was learned like three different times and not once in a fulfilling way.

8) Alya was kinda mean at the beginning? Did anyone else feel that way?

9) Tikki’s rap was SO CRINGE and the bit in Hawkmoth’s song where he gets a hat and poses un a rap-y way was so weird as well. Like come to think of it they were probably referencing “friends in the other side” but it only makes this song seem way worse by comparison.

10) the movie had serious issues with its rhythm and pacing, with the whole story but also in every scene.

11) kinda related to that but their mouths sometimes would not move with the dialogue? At first I assumed it was because it was made for French first but I could very clearly read their lips in English just not in sync with the sound.

12) the kwamis (genies in this movie apparently, ugh) were characterized in such a weird way, it was like trying to be Tikki but not quite getting there. I did enjoy when she got all wide eyed and musterious, it kinda goes with her being super old and powerful.

13) Plagg??? Being mostly just a fart joke??? 0/10

14) that and Chat feeling so unimportant.

15) Chat also fell in love way to fast, and like it didn’t feel genuine? Like they barely knew each other and Marinette wasn’t like particularly impressive yet for him to be fawning over her.

16) after the little montage tho? I loved their dynamic and relationship, and I really liked their little fight on the roof

17) the movie was sprinkled with little scenes and moments that were enjoyable and well crafted, but even if they were emotional moments they just didn’t feel earned and were kinda buried under a bunch of mid scenes.

18) I did like that Hawkmoth was dealt with in the spam of one movie, 11/10 much more realistic for his abilities than 5 seasons.

19) most of the jokes didn’t land because the timing of them was so weird, like long pauses or they were delivered too fast.

In general there were some bits that I enjoyed and the animation was obviously gorgeous (even if the pacing brought it back a bit) but maybe I had too much hype but I was disappointed. Still I’m certainly inspired to try some fan art and will save stills from the movie cause they were so beautiful.

I probably didn’t make a lot of sense but I needed to get everything out there!

P.S. HOW COULD THEY CUT JUST BEFORE THE KISS?!! UGHHH!!!

#ml movie spoilers #ml awakening spoilers #ml awakening #ml spoilers #miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous spoilers #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #awakening movie

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trans-spidey · 1 year

Text

Is it purely platonic to call me like, every night?

Summary: Mulder has a nightmare and calls Scully in the middle of the night for help.

Wordcount: 770

You can also read here!

A/N: 'sup! this is my first fic in this fandom and therefore it might not be brilliant yet but practice and all that I was rewatching s1 while writing so this may kinda have s1 vibes/be influenced by that yes the title is from a conan grey song but i just saw it on pinterest and the line reminded me of them

Her phone was ringing.

Her phone was ringing and she was going to kill him.

Scully moved her head slightly, fumbling for her phone before bringing it to her ear, “I’m going to kill you.” She hadn’t even found the motivation to open her eyes yet, but she knew she was going to kill him. A small laugh came from him on the other side of the phone, a little crackly but him all the same.

“I mean it Mulder, if this is an x-file, at—” She paused, finally cracking her eyes open to see her clock, red numbers staring her in the face, 2:47 almost burning her eyes in the inky blackness of her bedroom, “at quarter-to-three in the morning, then I’m going to kill you even more.”

“It isn’t an x-file,” He promised, pausing with a small yawn that she almost recognized from cases. It was the little suppressed yawn, where he didn’t want to reveal how tired he truly was, where he only wanted to keep talking to her about anything in particular, rather than falling asleep.

“Mulder, we have work in about five hours. Is there any way this can wait until we’re in the office?” She rubbed her eyes, letting them fall shut again after a moment. She knew he wouldn’t be talking about anything too important or work-related, or that if it was, he’d bring it up again once they were in the office.

There was a pause almost long enough where if it was any other person she’d assume they’d fallen back asleep, however this was Mulder. “Yeah, we can talk tomorrow.” Scully could hear a small smile in his voice, she could hear the odd shift in his voice.

The pause lasted longer this time, neither of them hung up, even though a sense of finality seemed to come with Mulder’s words.

“What’s going on?” Her voice stayed simple and quiet. Every night since she’d gotten home he’d found some reason to call her, some reason to show up at his apartment. She hadn’t brought it up—neither of them had—she’d assumed it would settle and she found no need for the awkward conversation if there was no point to it.

However now it was almost 3am again, and she was so close to dozing again, lay sideways and letting her phone balance on her ear carefully so that she could remain curled up under her duvet and cozy and she needed to know what was going on with him, so that they could both finally get some rest.

“What d’ya mean?”

She knew he was likely on his couch—she didn’t think he actually even used that bed of his—and that there was a high probability that he hadn’t even changed from his work clothes.

“Mulder,” She said, almost forcing a more stern tone in her voice, hoping that further poking would get him to actually speak to her. “You know what I mean, talk to me or I’m going back to sleep.” She knew that he likely knew that was an empty threat, she didn’t care though. There was the possibility she was going to fall asleep by accident anyway on the phone to him.

Silence rang out again.

“I needed to know you were still here.” The simplicity of the statement hung heavier than anything he could’ve said and it clicked.

“I’m here.” She said, her voice returning to the more gentle tone, “I’m not going anywhere, Mulder.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” She repeated. “But I am hoping to go to sleep, however, if it’s any comfort to you, I can leave the phone on until you fall asleep. So you know I’m still here,” She suggested.

“You don’t have to Scully, I don’t mind leaving you to sleep. It was stupid and I know you’re okay—I know you’re there.” He sounded almost defensive.

“I know, but just so you can sleep.” She argued, despite having absolutely no energy to argue and hoping that he was also tired enough that he’d simply cave. He’d been plagued with nightmares as long as he knew her—probably longer—but since her abduction he seemed to be barely sleeping—if at all. She wasn’t certain this could help, but she got the feeling this would ease his worries at least slightly.

“You sure you’ll be able to sleep too?”

“If I can’t, I will hang up on you.”

“Alright,” He laughed slightly and softly, “Goodnight, Scully.”

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

She focused on his soft breathing on the other end of the line as she peacefully drifted back to sleep.

#txf #the x files #txf fic #scully and mulder #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #msr #the x files fanfic #the x files season 2 #txf s2 #special agent fox mulder #special agent dana scully #spidey writes fics #fanfic #fanfiction

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e-dubbc11 · 1 year

Text

Metal Moment

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: None really, pure fun and fluff, couple of swear words.

Word Count: 1.6K-ish

Summary: You’re home alone, cooking, and waiting for Billy and the Castle’s to come over for dinner. You’re listening to some Metallica, and it’s so loud you don’t hear them come inside.

A/N: I had this idea last week while I was making dinner one night. My husband came home while I was rockin out and scared me. I used Metallica’s Enter Sandman for this.

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

You nearly forgot about your plans tonight until you glanced at your work calendar. The date was circled and inside the square said “Cook. Castle’s. Dinner.”

It had been the last time you and Billy went out to dinner with Frank and Maria when you suggested plans for them to come over and you would cook for them.

“Well, as long as Bill isn’t the one cooking, I’m in.” Frank chuckled.

Billy narrowed his eyes, pointed at Frank and rebutted. “Hey, I can open an MRE just as good as the next man.”

You reached for Billy’s finger and pulled it down so he wasn’t pointing anymore. “Billy’s not a bad cook, Frank. I mean, he’s not a really GOOD one either but he does have his moments.”

Pretending you had hurt his feelings, Billy clutched his chest and leaned in to quickly kiss you on the forehead. “Thank you, my love.” He said sarcastically. “I haven’t poisoned her yet, Frankie.”

Everyone at the table erupted with laughter and the Castle’s agreed to come over for dinner. It took a while to finally nail down a specific date but it was coming up on Friday.

Thankfully, the grocery store wasn’t too busy after work. You were able to get everything you needed for your spaghetti and meatballs that Billy loved so much. “Baby, what are in these meatballs that make them taste like this? They’re amazing!” Billy Russo flattered you but he wasn’t a liar, he always meant everything he said.

You had told him once before but apparently he needed to be told again. “I use three kinds of meat, Billy. Remember? I use beef, pork, and veal.” You reminded him with a slight smile.

In addition to the spaghetti and meatballs, you had also bought everything to make a salad and strawberry shortcake for dessert.

A text came from Billy around 4:30 saying he and Frank would be done around 6, so Maria would meet them at Anvil around that time and come home from there. That was plenty of time to get everything done so out came the Bluetooth speaker because cooking with music on was so much better than NOT cooking with music on.

While stirring the sauce, Enter Sandman started playing. It had been awhile since you had heard it and it had brought back a memory of one of your first dates with Billy while riding in his car.

The beginning of the song started to play and Billy extended his long arm and was about to change the song when you stopped him. He just assumed you didn’t like metal.

“Wait, Billy. What are you doing?” You remember touching his hand so he would take it away from the button. “I like this song.” You said.

Say your prayers, little one, don't forget, my son. To include everyone. I tuck you in, warm within, keep you free from sin. ‘Til the Sandman, he comes

Billy couldn’t believe what you just told him. “Whoa, wait—YOU like Metallica?!”

You crossed your arms across your chest. “Billy Russo, just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean that I can’t like Metallica and metal in general.”

Sleep with one eye open. Gripping your pillow tight

Exit light. Enter night. Take my hand. We're off to never-never land

He looked at you as if you possessed the key that unlocked his heart. “Well I didn’t say that, y/n and I’m sorry for insinuating but I’m just going to tell you that—that very few people surprise me.”

Billy smiled, gave you a wink, and by the end of the song the two of you were singing it at the top of your lungs. It was just fun, one of the best dates you had ever been on, and solidified the fact that you were in love with him.

That little moment in the car gave you a glimpse of who Billy Russo really was, he loved to smile and have fun. He didn’t show that to many people, to anyone really. Any time Billy could just relax and be himself was when he was most happy.

He didn’t have to be a CEO or a marine, he could just be…Billy. He loved you for allowing him to be himself, for not running away when he shut himself off from you. He just needed a little coaxing out of his shell and letting him know that he could trust you.

Trust. The concept was lost on someone like Billy who had built a wall around his heart, not allowing anyone over that wall or anywhere near it, for that matter. But that wall slowly started to come down the first time you made him smile, the first time you made him laugh, and the first time you listened without judgement.

The hole you had started to put in that wall during that car ride was the start to that wall coming down, brick by brick. You just needed to be patient and let it come down at a pace Billy was comfortable with. It didn’t matter to you how long it took but you would be there when it finally did.

With the memory fresh in your mind, you continued to stir the sauce and sing along with the music.

Something's wrong, shut the light, heavy thoughts tonight. And they aren't of Snow White. Dreams of war, dreams of liars, dreams of dragons' fire. And of things that will bite, yeah

What you didn’t know was that Billy, Frank and Maria were going to be a little earlier than you expected. Getting off of the elevator, the three of them heard the music coming from your apartment, a look of confusion on all of their faces.

“Is that comin’ from your place, Bill?” Asked Frank. “Sounds like Metallica.”

“Enter Sandman…” said Billy. “Remember that story I told you Frankie, where y/n was in the car with me and that song came on, we hadn’t been dating that long…”

Billy’s words jogged Frank’s memory. “Oh yeah! You went to change the song and she told you not to and that’s how you found out she loves metal.” Frank said. “And what did I tell you to do after you told me that story?”

Sleep with one eye open. Gripping your pillow tight

Exit light. Enter night. Take my hand. We're off to never-never land. Yeah-yeah

“What did he tell you to do, Billy? I can only imagine what Frank said.” Maria asked.

Billy quickly looked at his longtime friend, a slight smile tugged at his lips and looked back at Maria and said “Frankie told me to marry her.”

“Awwww, and you DID marry her!!” Maria said excitedly.

Billy blushed slightly. “I did marry her.” He said.

A wicked smile spread across Billy’s face. “Hey, you guys wanna sneak up on her? She’s singin’ and rockin’ out, she’s not gonna hear us.”

“Bill, just make sure she’s not holding any knives.” Frank joked and they pointed at each other as if to say “good call.”

Hush, little baby, don't say a word. And never mind that noise you heard. It's just the beast under your bed. In your closet, in your head

Billy carefully unlocked the door, he knew your back would be turned if you were cooking at the stove. The three of them made sure to not make any extra noise walking into the apartment. Just like he knew you would be, you had your back turned towards their direction and you were still singing.

Exit light. Enter night. Grain of sand

The lights were dimmed so there was no chance of any shadows being cast that would cause you to turn around or give you any indication there were other people in the apartment. Always light on his feet, Billy hugged the wall, followed by Frank, then Maria. She had a look on her face that said “I feel bad for doing this but it’s gonna be fun.”

Exit light. Enter night. Take my hand

Billy held up three fingers and counted down “3…2…1”

On one, they jumped out from behind the wall singing the last line of the song.

“WE’RE OFF TO NEVER-NEVER LAND!!!” The three of them yelled out.

You screamed, quickly turned around and your fist met Billy’s nose. Blood gushed from his face and he pinched his nose with his fingers.

“Shit!! Damn, I forgot how quick your reflexes were baby! Fuck!” He cried out in pain.

Even though you felt terrible, a slight smile spread across your face. “Oh my god, I am SO sorry, Billy! Are you ok?!” You asked while giggling a little.

Frank wasn’t giggling, he was doing a full belly laugh, and almost falling over onto the floor. “I told you we shouldn’t scare her like that.”

“You did no such thing, Frank!” Maria said through her laughter.

Quickly, you placed some ice in a plastic bag and wrapped the bag in a dish towel. “Hold this against your nose, baby. It will keep the swelling down.”

Billy was silent, his eyes were closed as he tried to get the bleeding to stop.

“Say something, Billy. Please? I said I was sorry.”

Billy pulled the ice bag away from his nose and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He had a warm smile on his face but winced a little in pain as he said “It’s alright, my love. Although, if I had known that one of these days you were gonna clock me, I wouldn’t have bought you such a big diamond.” He joked.

Frank had finally composed himself long enough to get out “Well, look on the bright side, Bill. At least she wasn’t holding a knife.”

It caused him pain, but Billy had started to laugh. Then everyone else began to laugh as you pushed yourself up onto your toes and planted a soft kiss on Billy’s cheek, his beard tickling your lips as you tried to settle your laughter. You couldn’t help yourself.

Enter Sandman had another memory attached to it now, whether Billy wanted to remember it or not.

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @marudersarehot

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕

#billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fluff #billy russo fanfic #billy russo #metallica #enter sandman

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