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#and yet both are so aware of each other to the point of saying it feels like shouting and quiet is good enough for now
fluffypotatey · 3 months
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Usually the trope where someone thinks they are great at hiding their love, the truth is that they are obvious. And I do love that for shadowpeach, but I also really like the idea that one or both are good at hiding their feelings to outsiders (not good at hiding their resentment or projections or etc, but good at hiding the romantic feelings). But shadowpeach know each so well- even after all this time - that it's practically a scream. Pigsy sees wukong's eyebrow twich, meanwhile macaque knows wukong wants to hold hands. Mei sees mac's tail move a bit, wukong knows macaque thinks wukong is being adorable. Ridiculous obvious only between the two
awwwww yes i love this!!!! them knowing each other for so long that the tiny mannerisms is its own language on they are fluent in, my beloved 😍
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mareestoermers · 1 month
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i think we are all forgetting something when we talk about how toxic patrick, tashi, and art are — or when we decide one is “worse” than the other. they all have moments of seeing right through it, seeing each other’s toxic behavior for what it is, and STILL want and need each other in this possessive, envious, visceral way.
1. in the way beginning, tashi is clearly flirting more with art than patrick, and patrick is visibly annoyed. art sees right through it and even challenges him like “okay, let’s leave”, and has this little smirk on his face because he knows patrick won’t give up on tashi.
2. tashi immediately sees the visible tension and love between art and patrick, and literally orchestrates their first kiss. she sees right through their repression, and even calls herself a “home-wrecker” but still entangles herself with them, especially patrick because he’s clearly the better tennis player at that point and that is tash’s ONLY true love. tennis. that’s what she desires most in him, and patrick knows that. he even calls her out on it in the dorm room scene. but they have this mirroring fire in each other that neither of them can give up, not until patrick breaks the balance and bails — tashi’s injury is literally a metaphor for the balance shattering between all three of them when patrick leaves her.
3. before this, patrick sees right through art trying to break them up, and even admires that quality — maybe even feels smug and flattered because art is jealous and feels left out from both tashi and patrick. patrick has known this all along, we saw it in the “tick-serve” scene, where he even swears to tashi he won’t tell anyone but he still tells art, who is desperate to feel a part of them and patrick wants that, too — even keeps that close intimacy with art that we see in the churro scene (swoon swoon swoon).
4. haven’t you noticed that arts desire to be great is only ever tied up in patrick and tashi? how he needs to beat patrick to win tashis affection, how he needs to win in tennis so that tashi can live through him, how he lives up to his potential in the ending only because tashi and patrick push him to it, in their little fucked up ways? he knows this — he even admits that he’s playing for tashi, that he knows she’s living through him. he even admits he’s playing a fucked up little game with patrick when they’re in the sauna. yet he still does it. again, he knows what’s happening, sees right through them — still does it, still loves them.
5. when tashi calls patrick to come pick her up he knows it’s not just to tell him to throw the match — and despite how she battles him about it, they still have sex in the car, because he already knows. he’s so fully aware of her and her game and he’s so willing to be caught up in it, the same as art.
just some examples of how they all have moments of clarity and agency and yet they still choose to be entangled in one another because they’re all fucked up in their own, individual ways, and they’re all living through each other for their own specific needs. arts is to be seen as worthy, as great, but only through their gaze. tashis is to have the career that was stolen from her. patricks is truly to be in love and in lust with both of them, because we even see that from the beginning that tashis love alone will never satiate him; it has to be arts love, too. that scene in the sauna when he thinks he’s lost it from art is the most sad and fucked up we ever even see patrick. on top of tashi asking him to throw the game — he’s so defensive of arts feelings.
in short this is an actual love triangle (and i would go as far as to see it as a polyship). you can’t erase one without the whole thing unraveling, and you can’t say one character was the “worst” without picking apart the motivations and pointing to the fact that their bad behavior was never a secret or left unchecked.
even at the end, patrick signals to art that he slept with tashi — art knows and they still have that intimate completion at the end, all three of them. art living up to his potential and embracing patrick fully (id argue this could even be a metaphor for embracing his bisexuality), patrick having both tashi and arts affection again, and tashi playing a phenomenal tennis match through her little white boys — in such a visceral, emotional way that she cries out like she did in the beginning and the last frame is her smiling.
in a fucked up way, they all get what they wanted out of each other.
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visionsofmagic · 8 months
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❝screaming another man’s name while being fucked by him❞
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including: zoro, luffy, sanji, shanks [opla versions]
―❛ nsfw, brat!reader, f!reader, possessive behaviour, chocking (kinda), licking, different positions, daddy kink, swearing, pet names, spanking, angry sex, humiliation, begging, fingering, oral > f receiving, marking, claiming, mentions of voyeurism, hair, ‘is all  I suppose. ✸ wc: 2.3k ✸ posted only zoro’s version but didn’t appear on tags, so, I repost that part with others’ parts too. tried to stay in characters. enjoy!
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⭑ ZORO
“oohhh - sanji!”
you moaned, not aware of your own moans until he asked, voice deep, sending radiations of danger.
“what did you just say?”
hands on your waist freezing, the pressure still on there yet it doesn’t continue pulling and pushing your body, stopping fucking you - the sudden silence in the room fills up with heavy breathing.
he holds you by the neck, raising your body up, he makes your back touch his bare chest, back arching - his cock twists inside your walls.
“I asked,” he says, warm breaths hitting your ear as his voice reaches every part of your body as if it's a poison - and he is the only cure for it. “what did you fucking say.”
it wasn’t intentional - you didn’t mean to moan another man’s name in the middle of fucking, but, it came as an instinct.
“z-zoro - I - didn’t mean to - aggh -!”
“didn’t mean to what? moaning another man’s name?” he chuckled, far away from entertaining, just pure annoyance. “moaning sanji’s name while my dick inside you, breakin’ you into half, hm?”
you can’t answer, you can’t even comprehend what to do because you don’t understand why you moaned sanji’s name. however, zoro knows you more than you do, and owns every knowledge about the hidden meanings behind your actions, words, and looks - he isn’t dumb, he knows how you close your thigh around sanji whenever he cooks, watching him from the corner of your eyes as you bite your lips without even noticing it.
it is not that zoro doesn’t get jealous, he does and he will prove it right away yet he wants to satisfy you in every way he can - he can see the truth behind the whole thing; you want the full attention that you try to make him angry with all these acts, and you have no idea that you’re doing all that only for him - for zoro so that he can get possessed around you.
he’s a pleaser though, for you, and he will plan your little game, giving what you want.
“maybe I should call him,” he says, and whimpers when your pussy clenches around his length on its own - pure instinct, pure satisfaction. he smirks, pride runs in his veins, he really knows you - each hit point, each desire, everything. he leaves your body, bending it over again, ass getting higher.
he begins to fuck you so slow that you swear you will lose your mind anytime soon as his cock goes out of your horny clit until his tip touches your folds, only to shove it in again with a hard yet effective thrust.
weren’t his hands holding you by the hips, you would hit the wall in front of your face - moaning louder than before, afraid that the crew will hear you as you get fucked by furious zoro.
“ohh, I definitely should call him. wanna make him watch your pretty face as I fuck your hungry pussy for my cock,” he says, thrusting faster each passing time, making your hands grip the sleeves under you. “would you like that?” he asks, balls hitting every right spot of your ass cheeks, thrust begins to mixture of both pain and pleasure.
“ohhh - zoro - zoro -!”
“that’s right baby. roronoa zoro,” he kneels down, abdomen touching your back, dick reaches the end of your pussy, a hand grips your hair, pulling it harshly, “scream my fucking name louder, wanna hear it, wanna everyone hear it as well.”
“‘m sorry, zoro, ‘m so sorry -“
“oh please,” he mocks you, leaving your hair, only to hold you by the neck this time, pushing you onto the mattress lower, cries rush onto your face. soaking, you moan his name over and over again. “you’re not sorry at all. you’re just a slut, aren’t you?” his fingers play with your ass hole, sending a new sense of satisfaction into your body, “a slut only for my cock though,” he whispers into himself, slapping your ass, earning a scream out of your pretty parted lips.
then, he turns you around, and the cock swifts inside you - standing above you, he puts one of his hands beside your head, and the other one grips your neck completely, making you look up to his face - he finds the pace that he knows that will make you see starts.
eyes sparkling with lust as you look at him, half-closed, blurry already, dry tears on the cheeks, chest raising up and down rapidly while his cock fucks your abused clit harder, and deeper. “yes my slut,” he says, possessiveness can be heard through his voice, “look at who’s fucking you right now. not luffy, not that shitty waiter sanji either. just roronoa zoro. who’s fucking you? whose pussy is this? say it.”
“roro - ohhhh, shit - roronoa z-zoro!”
he nods with such pride that he smirks, still furious, but enjoying this so much that he decides to fuck you in every position he can until the whole crew knows you’re getting fucked by him in his damn room, crying only his name. “that’s it my pretty slut, you will never forget it. from now on, I will dig it into your dizzy head so that your legs will open on their own whenever you see me.”
“please, yes, yes, zoro!” going all mindless, you let him do what he wants - after all, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?
“pretty slut. gotta make you know who you belong to.”
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⭑ LUFFY
“fuuuck - usopp!” the words - the moan comes out of you without your control, making his head higher up.
“huh? say somethin’ baby?” he asks, not stopping eating you from the back, fingers joined, brows raised, curiously looking at you.
“‘m so sorry, luffy - I - I wasn’t thinking straight- I - ohhh!” you try to say but your words are cut by his fingers scissoring inside you.
“oh,” he says, sounding not surprised but excited, chuckling even as he adds, “I didn’t hear it wrong then. you really moaned his name - while my tongue is deep inside you, fingering this beautiful pussy that I thought clenching because of how good I am fucking you.”
between your loud whimpers mixing with moans, you begin to say how sorry you are. you weren’t aware of it until the moment usopp’s name left your mouth. you knew it was luffy who was making you week on the knees, who’s have your legs wrapped around his bare shoulders, your pussy wide open, hands on his curly hair as you pull them whenever his tongue and fingers reach your g-spot - only he can fuck you like this, you know it! but why you moaned usopp’s name, why you pictured him in your mind beside luffy are the questions you have no answers to.
“I don’t know what happened to me - ohhh - luffy, ‘m so sorry - fuuck!”
both moaning with pleasure and crying with pure guilt, you try to hide your face from luffy, a hand positioned on your half of the face, not looking at him, afraid that you made him upset and disappointed yet luffy is there to prove you wrong when he leaves your pussy, gets up, holding you by the chin as he lowers down, making both of you hit the bed underneath you.
hovering over you, he makes you see his smiling face, lips shining because of your soaking, eyes sparkling.
“oh, pretty baby, look at me,” he says, caressing your chin, “I am not mad. not at all. if you want to bring another man into the bed -“
“no, no - I don’t - I really don’t!” you protest, so shy at the thought. you only want luffy, you know that, and you want to apologize to him for being such a greedy girl, “you’re my one and only luffy. I only want you.”
he chuckles softly, shaking his head, fingers finally finding your aching pussy again, playing with it as he says, “‘s okay. if I am the only one you want, then, let me fuck you that your whole body remember I am the one and only for it.”
he keeps his promises, fucking you until the only thing you have on your mind is him - nothing more, nothing less.
yet he doesn’t leave you without teasing you, giving you wet kisses, markings, and even slaps from here to there - enjoying seeing you all shy yet greedy for him.
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⭑ SANJI
“oh yes, yes, yes, right there - so good so good - please more, zoro, please!”
“hm? what?” he asks in a surprised tone, hands stopping playing with your breasts, tongue staying on the hardened nipple without moving, eyes looking up to your confused face from where he stays on - your exposed chest.
he smirks, a bit of jealousy and entertainment at the same time, realizing you have no clue about what you said a second ago, legs push him closer - wanting his cock deep inside your warm walls to start moving again because you can’t understand why he has stopped fucking you.
“oh my beautiful madam,” he teases, “can’t even realize he moaned another man’s name while having my cock warm inside her pussy!”
your eyes widen after you comprehend the words he’s saying.
you swear lowly, hands touch his well-built chest, heat rushing all over your face, and you begin to feel guilt blooming inside your abdomen which has twisted.
“sanji - I am so sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t -“ he cuts you off, right hand finds your neck as long fingers caress your face.
his face so close to yours as he chuckles, “oh, did my pretty lady remember who’s fucking her? not zoro, eh?”
he can’t decide whether he should feel humiliated or amused. yet he doesn’t go hard on you, moving his hips, he earns low moans from you - hands trembling on his chest, the dilemma rises up inside the mind, thoughts about zoro shuts down by sanji, he shoves his dick into you slowly and in one go as if he’s trying to remind you that you’re under him - not zoro’s or any other man’s.
“please, sanji - faster, please!” your please now is filled with his name comes as prays into his ears, the pride increases, giving sanji a chance to play with your cute little mind.
“that’s right baby, sanji - say that again.” his movements become faster, harder.
“sanji, sanji, sanji - aggh, so good -“ with the help of the last decent you have, you moan his name louder and louder, wanna make him prove that you’re mind full of him, giving him the apology he deserves in a way he would like to get; being so noisy that everyone will acknowledge what you’re doing behind the doors.
“would make a mess out of you. you will leave this room barely walking because of me,” his possession is perceivable, burning you alive with the desire for more. hands grip your inner thighs, opening them wider, a painful breath leaves your lungs as you shut your eyes, giving sanji what he wants; devouring you to tame you.
“pretty lady needs a lesson, and I am here to give it.”
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⭑ SHANKS
he doesn’t say much, chuckling or laughing would suit him better but he knows you should have known that no one can fuck you like he does when another’s man comes from you - moaning with it instead of saying shank’s name.
holding you from the waist, he takes control of you, not letting you ride him no more, sweats flow from your body into his.
the moment you hear his voice, memories of the past seconds rush to your mind, and you find yourself putting your hands on his shoulders, afraid that he will push you.
contrary to what you expect, shanks moves your hips slowly, forth, and back - his balls feel heavy under you, hair on his lower abdomen makes the pleasure double.
you hold your tears; blurry vision, soaking clit, reddened face, agape mouth - pathetic yet beautiful, he thinks. “daddy’s cock isn’t enough for you, hm, is this the case why you moan another man’s name like that even when you’re,” he takes your chin, making you look down, seeing the mess you’re creating, “cumming onto my cock?”
“it’s not it, shanks!” earn a spank on your ass.
“then what is it princess?” he asks, brows raised, fingers traveling on your body, “am I not fucking you good that you fantasize about another man while bouncing on my lap?”
he lets you say countless sorry words, cries inside his arms, explaining how you didn’t mean to do that, how he’s the only one for you yet he doesn’t seem satisfied, taking a deep breath, raising your body then lowering it down - cock thrusting deep and hard.
throwing your head, you begin to beg for him to forgive you, to fuck you.
“in that case,” he says, putting himself a glass of wine from the small table beside you while still sitting on his favorite chair that he fucks you onto. leaning back, he moves his hand in the air, “fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you can beg for my cock, then, I will forgive you and fuck your greedy pussy princess,”
he watches you going blank for a moment before beginning to bounce on him, moaning from the throat, hands traveling around your body to make a show only for his eyes.
he whimpers lowly, a smirk lightening his attractive face, eyes burning in fire, “give daddy a show. and when you’re done, I will call for him and make him watch as I fuck you good.”
❤💙
taglist • tagging: @snowprincesa1 ❦
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leilanihours · 1 month
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Anything with Kate Martin pleaseee!
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# GOLD RUSH
pairing: kate martin x teammate!reader
word count: 1780
warnings: none!
summary: kate being the cutest most adoring girlfriend ever while you get ready on live.
⭑ from lani: this was heavily inspired by this video bc kate actually might be the cutest human to ever walk the earth ty
"WHAT IS UP guys, welcome back to yet another game day prep," you greet to the camera propped against the mirror in front of you, "today we are going up against lsu, so there's gonna be a lot of tension in the arena today."
user1: hi y/nnnn
user2: is caitlin there?
user3: team lsu lol
user4: y/n what shampoo/conditioner do u use??
it's become a tradition for you to go live and do a little "get ready with me" on the most highly-anticipated gamedays, as you wanted to get fans excited for the face-off.
the first one you hosted got lots of love, viewers falling in love with your bubbly personality and witty remarks to your teasing teammates.
you were currently in your hotel bathroom, one you shared with your teammate, gabbie marshall. but all the girls have borderline separation anxiety, leading to half the team hanging out in your room as you all prepare yourselves for the game.
"are you on live?" you hear a voice whisper. turning your head, you see kate peeking hers into the bathroom a small smile on her face.
"yeah," you reply sweetly, "you wanna say hi?"
she nods, immediately sliding the door open to join you.
"looks like we have a special cameo today, folks, y'all got lucky," you laugh
"hi, live, how you guys doin?" kate says.
as you begin doing your skincare, you see kate take a seat on the closed toilet in the corner, carefully observing your routine.
"you okay, babe?" you ask with a grin once you notice her puppy-dog like stare. the nickname slips from your lips like first nature, appearing cordial to the camera but the two of you know the hidden meaning.
user1: help kate looks so starstruck wtf shes adorable
user2: omg wait i use that same moisturizer
user3: "BABE"?
user4: not kate just sitting on a damn toilet LMAOO
you and kate have always been close, ever since your freshman year at iowa. on the court you two bounce off of each other's energy constantly, frequently managing to raise the stakes of the game.
fans have noticed it too, of course, with proud taps after one of you makes a shot and suspiciously long post-game hugs.
the team is fully aware of your private relationship, respecting your wishes of secrecy. there have been pointed questions from reporters and interviewers, but you all know how to dodge a personal question one way or another.
a few minutes go by of you telling a funny story from the bus ride to the hotel, consisting of caitlin getting caught on video singing horribly off-key. with promises of posting the recording later that evening, you and kate both laugh at the memory.
as you start on your light makeup look, you begin reading some comments popping up on your screen.
user1: thoughts on reese and clarks rivalry??
user2: wheres caitlin and gabbie
user3: y/n can u say hi alyssa
user4: what are your guys' top 3 music artists
"'thoughts on reese and clark's rivalry?'" you read, "i mean, they've said it before, there's no bad blood between them, just some good old basketball competition," you state with a small smile as you start blending in a light layer of skin tint.
"yeah, i mean some light-hearted teasing and trash-talking always makes a game more fun in my opinion," kate chimes in, "especially when it leads to an increase in viewership."
"for sure, for sure," you smirk at her in the corner of your eye, sneakily suggesting your own dating rumors circulating before every game.
"'top three music artists?'" kate reads, "dude, mine changes 24/7 so i have no idea anymore."
"ooo," you contemplate the question as you look up in thought, "gotta be taylor swift...sza...anddd frank ocean? no, kehlani! wait actually-"
"i don't think you know either, y/n," kate laughs.
"oh whatever," you say, rolling your eyes playfully, "speaking of music, can you put some on?"
"i gotchu," kate responds, picking up her phone to connect to the bluetooth speaker on the counter.
soon enough, you hear the familiar tune of "gold rush" by taylor swift, a song publicly known to be your favorite (kate knows this, naturally, which is why she played it first).
once she notices your stretched grin and quiet hum to the lyrics, she mirrors your expression, feeling light in her chest at the sight of your happiness.
she stands up from her spot on top of the toilet seat, slowly coming up behind you to observe you even closer.
the two of you make eye contact in the mirror, immediately blushing and smiling like madmen. and, of course, nothing goes unnoticed by the live watchers so comments of you two rush in.
user1: aww the way they smile at each other im crying
user2: okay when is it my turn to get a gf like y/n or kate 😢
user3: not kate stealing my gf..
user4: they gotta be dating right??
you and kate scan over the messages, trying to keep a straight face as to not give away anything.
"kate can you do me a favor and get my setting spray from my suitcase? its in a clear bottle with a pink cap," you ask her, but shes too entranced by your beauty to hear.
"sorry, what was that?"
you giggle, "my setting spray please?"
"oh! okay, be right back, guys!"
you return your focus to your makeup and the song playing, the melodies too addicting for you to not sing along.
as kate comes back into the fairly spacious bathroom, you thank her for getting your spray, placing it on the marble counter. she reclaims her spot behind you, continuing to watch you work as if you were the most interesting movie she'd ever seen.
she wishes she could place her arms around your waist and rest her chin on your shoulder to whisper sweet words into your ear. sadly, for the sake of your private relationship, she had to settle for admiring from afar (which is really only like a foot away from you).
"y/n!" you hear one of the girls call out from the bedroom, "can i borrow your eyebrow gel? i forgot mine in my room!"
"sure, it's in here, come grab it!" you yell back. a few seconds later, jada comes sauntering into the bathroom, immediately taking notice of kate's presence and the phone displaying your every action.
"oh my gosh, heyy livee," she smiles, waving her fingers at the camera.
user1: omg jada ilysm
user2: still waiting on catilin tbh
user3: JADA!!
user4: my fav girls :((
as you apply small amounts of blush to your cheeks, jada stands next to you fixing up her eyebrows wih your gel. and, yes, kate is still behind the both of you. she has begun to fix her hair into her signature ponytail braid, quickly maneuvering her dirty-blonde locks with ease after working the style for so long.
"my teammates are so prettayy," she exclaims to the livestream once she'd finished with her hair.
"you're prettyy," jada replies, singing.
"pretty beautiful," kate sings back while you're simply giggling at the girls' antics.
you're too concentrated on curling your lashes correctly to notice that kate was specifically gazing at you with that last comment, nothing but pure love and admiration behind her words.
jada, who is now out of the frame and catching kate's longing stare in your direction, turns around to face her, mouthing: "you're so whipped."
kate playfully shoves her out the bathroom and returns to her former seat on the toilet.
"okay, guys, sorry we haven't been talking to y'all that much," you say as you step back from the mirror, "the last step of my makeup look is to apply some setting spray that, thankfully, the lovely kate martin has gotten for me."
"wait, can i do it?" kate asks, eager to help you out.
"yeah, come over here," you respond.
kate shoots up and over to you and takes the bottle from your hand. her fingers brush against yours for a split second, sending a tingly feeling throughout your body. at this point, you don't even need to put blush on, kate's subtle touches bringing more than enough color to your face.
"i'll tell you when to stop, okay?"
"okay, close your eyes for me," kate mumbles, putting a delicate hand on your shoulder.
obliging, you feel light spritzes of mist fall on your face as kate controls the bottle nervously, not wanting to mess up.
"don't hold back, i'll tell you when it's good, don't worry," you laugh.
almost a whole minute goes by, which slightly concerns your girlfriend.
"more??" she exclaims.
finally, you tell her you've received a good amount, opening your eyes to look at her. you're instantly met those blue eyes youve grown so fond of. and again, you can't keep the smile off your face when she maintains eye contact in an irritatingly addictive manner. you practically forget about the phone pointed on the two of you, stuck in your own worlds.
"gametime, guys, let's go!" you hear a voice echo, snapping the two of you out of your trances.
user1: OMG WAS THAT CAITLIN
user2: i know my wifes voice when i hear it
user3: are we just gonna ignore the eye contact between kate and y/n??
user4: yall r so delusional lmaoo
returning to your phone, you pick it up off the mirror and follow kate out of the bathroom.
"okay, guys, hopefully you enjoyed today's live," you cheer, "make sure to tune in to espn tonight to watch the game!"
you hear an overlap of voices, each one saying goodbye to the viewers.
"bye live! see you soon!" from kate.
"bye my lovely people!" from gabbie.
"mwah love you guys see y'all at the game!" from jada.
"go hawkeyes!" from caitlin.
you snicker as you watch more and more comments about caitlin pour in, your followers going crazy at a small glimpse of their favorite athlete.
as soon as you end the live, everyone begins rushing out of your hotel room and down to the lobby to wait for the bus. hurriedly, you grab your backpack and make your way towards the door, but an eager hand pulls you back.
before you know it, a set of soft lips is placed against your own and two hands are glued to your waist. instead of jumping in surprise, you immediately melt into the kiss, finding comfort in your girlfriend's familiar embrace.
"sorry," she blushes once you pull away, "been wanting to do that all day."
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teabutmakeitazure · 2 months
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Roll a Die, Roll a Poison - A Game
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>Yan! Aventurine x Fem! Reader
>Word count: 1.7k
>a/n: very subtle yan themes in this one. might expand on this soon. i love a man going through trust issues and self depreciation. plus points if he's pretty
Part 2
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To say you found the sound of a die rolling to be annoying would be an understatement. No, it scratches your auditory canal as it works its way through to your eardrums, wreaking havoc on your hearing before you even register the sound. What’s worse is the voice that follows after it and the insufferable smile accompanying it.
“Care for a game?”
Asking for your participation is a charade. In the occurrence that you do decline, you are simply pestered to the point that you give in like how an older sibling acquiesces to the younger’s demands. Except you two aren’t family, not yet at least, and he is nowhere near a cute younger brother or a cute younger anything.
The fur lined coat is shrugged off, and Aventurine plops down on the other end of the sofa. You have half a mind to get up and relocate, but considering his pettiness and the very high possibility that he would simply follow you, you decide to let things be. A single die is placed onto the dark oak centre table in front of you both, and when you look at him questioningly, he simply rests his back against the sofa with a smile. The dark teal green velvet of the sofa sometimes seems like a deliberate choice to you.
He is wearing a similar colour after all. Like he almost always is.
“No bets,” Aventurine clarifies. “Just a game.”
You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to accept so readily. “What kind of game?”
When he speaks, his voice slightly reverberates through the empty apartment. It reminds you of how empty it is and how he is the only other here. “Oh, it’s just a simple game, to get to know each other better. Each of us will take turns rolling the die. If the number is 1 to 3, you have to answer a question I ask. If the number is 4 to 6, I have to answer a question you ask.”
“No constraints on the questions? I have an idea of what might be brewing in your mind, and I frankly do not like it.”
He laughs, eyes closing as he recomposes himself. “Ah, as much as I would love to enact upon that, I’m afraid I won’t. It’s just a simple game, dear. Won’t you humour me?”
You glance between him and the die innocently lying on the table, the number 2 staring back at you. His coat is hanging over the backrest and he’s wearing his usual work clothes. Something must have happened at work. Something that ticked him off, and now he’s looking for an excuse to bask in your company because he’s aware you won’t humour him without something like this.
Fine then. You’ll accept on your own accord. Maybe you might end up with an answer or two.
“Alright,” you answer. “Any other thing I should know?”
He blinks, those devastatingly beautiful yet incriminating eyes blink at you. “Alright~ The first person to score a total point of 30 wins. Their prize? The other person has to do whatever they want.”
“I thought you said there’s no bet.”
“This isn’t a bet, sweetheart. It’s a game. There are winners and losers in games.”
Something’s up. 30 isn’t a high number. The game will be over not too long after it starts and the winner gets a prize that’s too good to be true. “Are you sure?” You eye him wearily as you speak, the smile never leaving his face. “What if I win and ask for you to never see me again? Isn’t that too big of a price to pay over a silly game?”
Aventurine hums. There is either something cooking in his head or he’s overly confident that he would win. The latter you would not put against him. He has insane luck. So much so that you worry over him someday shooting himself while playing roulette with a revolver, but it hasn’t happened yet.
“Well,” he drawls, “you can ask for anything you want if you win. However, it’s imperative for you to remember that there is a way to work around everything. So then, let’s begin, shall we?”
He reaches for the die, and asks for your hand. When you extend your palm to him, he grabs it gently with one hand, the leather rubbing against your skin as his thumb rubs your wrist, and the other places the die on your hand. “Ladies first,” he chuckles. You waste no time in rolling, the sound of the die falling onto the empty table making you cringe.
When it stops, the number 3 stares back at you. What a great start.
“Oh! It’s my turn to ask. How lovely.” When you give him a sad look, he’s quick to conceal the excitement he just displayed. “Ah, I’m not sure what I should ask. Give me a second.”
You know he must have prepared at least 10 questions beforehand, so purposely dragging it out is just rude.
“I know,” Aventurine exclaims, “Tell me one thing you like about me.”
You deadpan. “That isn’t a question.”
“What’s one thing you like about me?”
Okay now this is tricky. The temptation to reply ‘your money’ is strong, but you both know it’s not true. You could care less about his riches simply because you do not let him win you over with them. There are another few answers that you could use to your advantage to potentially playfully dodge the question, but you suppose that wouldn’t be a very noble thing to do.
Thus, you break eye contact and direct your attention to the die on the table. “Your attention to detail,” you mumble out. “It’s… interesting.”
Aventurine makes a satisfied hum, and you can almost hear the upward curls of his lips in his voice. “I’ll take it. Now then…”
A gloved hand grabs the die and rolls. The number he rolls is 5, and you mentally cuss him out. “My turn again!” He asks you to face him, that sweet, buttery voice of his leaving those perfectly moisturised lips and-
“My question is… what would be the perfect date you ever went on?”
This time, you blink at him. Interacting with Aventurine is usually like a game of chess. Both of you move your pieces in your respective turns, and every sentence that leaves either of your mouths counts as a move. The pieces represent the strength of either party. However, it is imperative to reiterate that you aren’t good at chess and you’re pretty sure he’s either eating or hiding your pieces when you’re not looking.
“Nothing,” you reply. “I would rather not be on a date. Ever.”
He tuts. “You were the one who asked me out the first time. Or are you forgetting?”
“I was not.”
“You asked me out for coffee, remember?”
You choke on your words for a moment. The audacity of this man! “Asking to have coffee together is not a date!”
“Is it,” he chuckles. “We were alone together, and we talked for way more than an hour. I specifically cancelled any appointments I had that day, and I even paid the bill. That’s a date. Not a simple outing.” You part your lips to speak but are cut off. “So, what’s the ideal date for you?”
“I frankly have no clue.” He raises a brow at your admittal, but makes no move to question it. “My romantic experiences aren’t exactly plentiful, but I suppose anything would do as long as it isn’t in a casino or the like.”
“Hm. Noted. Your turn.”
The accursed die is taken into your hands, yet you do not roll it immediately. It is given a harsh glare and a mental warning before flung to the table carelessly. Surprisingly, you score a 6.
Aventurine whistles at that appreciatively. “Hope you’re keeping count of your points.”
“I am. No need to worry your hat off.” A mischievous smile stretches on your lips. Retribution has come, although in a small dose, and you would be an utter fool to waste it. “Riddle me this, my personal annoying, chirping bird. Why do you torment me so?”
He feigns innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Do not play dull. Why do you remain adamant on making my life so difficult?”
“Difficult?” Aventurine acts offended, as though he’s been told he doesn’t love you. “Why, I cherish you, my dear. Regardless, I never caged you. You simply make things difficult for yourself.”
You click your tongue. What a roundabout way of saying he sabotages things deliberately for you. “I would beg to differ.”
“Nevertheless, I cherish you. We’re in love. And before you say something like not liking me back, I’d like to remind you of all the things we did before going into this ‘arrangement’.”
You bite back instantly. The mere mention reminds you of the evening you spent sobbing locked in the bedroom’s attached bathroom. “Do not downplay your actions. You know you hurt me. Playing innocent just makes you look worse.”
“I took a gamble with your emotions as the wager. Sure, I lost a few chips, but I did win. And viola. Here you are.”
A glare full of bittersweet betrayal is directed his way, yet he simply looks tired. “Don’t look at me like that…”
You avert your gaze at that. Life has turned into a series of sought out opportunities to gain the upper hand, something he is unwilling to relinquish. It’s maddening at times, but it is your reality. Even if you wish it weren’t, you don’t hold the power to change it.
“To answer your question,” he says, voice low, “I don’t want to, but I currently don’t have any other choice.” And just like that, in the blink of an eye, he’s grinning again.
“My turn!” Aventurine grabs the die, eyeing it as it sits in his leather palm. “Your 9 points versus my 5 points. Let’s see who wins in the end.”
The sentence makes a chill run down your spine. He’s insanely good at games like this. Just what would he ask of you?
As you watch him roll a 6, you only continue to lose hope for a win. Just like the countless times before.
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a/n: he asked you for a kiss on the cheek everyday for a week straight that's it
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sepublic · 1 year
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Thinking of how the Titan showed Luz the first glyph, Light, because she was kind to his son and listened to him, made him feel like his interests mattered when so many others overlooked the little guy and didn’t care about people like him. He didn’t force Luz to painstakingly find it on her own, as Philip did; The Titan freely gave this to her.
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Then the second glyph, Ice, comes when Luz takes the moment to listen to the Titan; To say that she’ll learn on his terms, she’ll respect his body and work with him. Luz paid attention to the unheard son, and now the parent, speaking with and not for him as Philip did.
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She gets the Plant glyph afterwards by continuing to follow that principle and give his son fun and company...
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And the final glyph, Fire? Wing it like Witches is a major epiphany for Luz’s development, where it really hits her that she can’t drag her friends around in her attempts to play out certain beloved tropes and story beats she grew up on; In particular, this episode was about her desire to be the underdog hero, dragging Willow into relatively high-stakes consequences for a Grudgby match she did not ask for.
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Sound familiar? I wonder if the Titan was low key afraid of Luz following in Philip’s steps, recognized that similar hero complex... Even if Luz was nowhere near as evil as Belos, well. Philip started off from somewhere, he didn’t begin as a genocidal dictator with countless sins to his name, he built his way up. Maybe the Titan is just being paranoid, Luz is so young after all! But in the end, he hid one final glyph from Philip because of his need for control, and it was admittedly Luz who jeopardized this precaution by giving Philip the Light spell.
Yet in Wing it like Witches, Luz really matures when she steps up and takes responsibility for her recklessness, for subsuming Willow’s problem and low key making it about herself, and what she decides for the group. Luz takes the full consequences of the stakes she set up so neither Willow nor Gus have to, and it’s this mature gesture of self-awareness that prompts them to reciprocate and forgive Luz.
So I wonder if THAT moment was what solidified to the Titan that yes, I really can trust this child. This human, the first after centuries of another who has been desecrating my corpse, bastardizing my name; She truly didn’t know any better, and meant well, teaching Philip the Titan’s last glyph. The first few glyphs were like little gifts, but giving Luz the last one meant she had full access to all of the Titan’s magic, so long as she experimented with glyph combos. And the Titan felt safe to entrust her with something he barred from Philip, because why?
Because Luz got over that fatal flaw of Philip’s; The desire to be the hero at any cost. That proved she wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, she diverged at a crucial point, and it meant she’d never become another Belos. They both worked and studied for the glyphs, but what mattered was the compassion that Luz had, and it was her kindness that began her discovery of glyphs. The Titan could trust his final glyph to her, Fire... But as he’d find out, it wasn’t even his final gift to Luz, either.
There really is this recurring arc of hesitancy from the Titan; Someone who was used, betrayed, and taken advantage of. And knew how easy it was for the same to happen to his son. So to see the little ways in which he opens up, recognizes Luz’s kindness and maturity and responds to each step in her growth... It’s like someone learning to trust again, realizing they’ve really found a friend after all. It’s no wonder Luz is treated like an old friend by the Titan, because she is one, and it makes his final gift and farewell to her all the more impactful.
On a lighter note! I’m just imagining the Titan figuring out how to show Luz the Fire glyph, after deciding he’ll do just that. I keep thinking of him watching Luz in the Grudgby game, cheering her on and giving Luz support by illuminating his last glyph in Boscha’s fire; “Here kid, take this!” It’s such a relatively casual and silly moment too, because the Titan isn’t obsessed with the theatrics and drama of godhood.
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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months
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THE RESIGNATION
Summary: You can quit. It doesn't mean Rafe will let you.
Paring: CEO!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact
Warnings:  18+ Smut. Oral (w receiving) Masturbation (w), Rough Sex, PIV, Creampie, Fluff, Romance with a dash of Angst. AgedUp!Rafe. Not Proof-Read. Enjoy.
Word Count: 2k words
Author's Note: Something a little shorter, lighter and sweet. Happy reading and much love to you all ❤️
Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.
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*Buzzzzzzzzz*
“Yes.”
“Y/N is here to see you.”
“Send her in.”
Rafe watches in fascination as you shuffle in, your face taut and serious. Your eyes cast downward, clutching a file. As you tuck an unruly strand of hair behind your ear, he realizes you're nervous. The tension, his silence, makes you even more anxious.
“Sit,” he instructs, motioning to the chair across his desk. Meanwhile, he keeps his gaze on his papers. He continues to read and leisurely sign forms. Yet, he can distinctly feel your eyes on him, both of you fully aware of the meeting's purpose.
For Rafe, the dynamics at play are exhilarating. After finishing his tasks, he lifts his eyes to find you focused on your file, seemingly avoiding his gaze.
He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, his fingers drum lightly on the fine-crafted letter in front of him. The paper carries a soft hint of perfume. It smells like you.
There's a part of him that wishes to be cruel, to use biting words he's often used with others in his employ. Yet something about you prevents him. The game of power was always in his favor, but with you, the boundaries become ambiguous, shifting in unexpected ways. With you, it's always been personal.
“Why didn't you tell me you were unhappy?” he asks. His tone is calm, yet probing. You seem taken aback, eyes widening as they search his face.
He decides to try another approach. “It's clear to me now,” he points to your letter of resignation. “You were unhappy at Cameron Enterprises. How long have you felt this way?”
Your surprise is palpable, and he watches you closely, enjoying the tapestry of emotions that flash across your face, each one more captivating than the last.
“Well?” he prods.
You shift, straightening your back. “I am grateful for my time at Cameron Enterprises. Truly I am. The team has been so kind to me, and I'll honestly cherish the friends I've made—”
“But?” he asks, cutting you off, eager to understand.
“But, I believe it's time for me to pursue other opportunities,” you admit, measuring your words. You slowly nod your head, as though you have thought this whole thing out, and now you are not only resolved with the thought but you truly believe it. It’s this sureness, this resolution, that truly makes Rafe react.
“I see,” Rafe says as he presses a button, making the office walls turn opaque. "So, you think you've outgrown us."
“No—”
"No?" he interrupts, rising from behind his desk and walking slowly toward you.
"No. I just- I feel it's time for me to try something... new.”
"Something new," he repeats, his gaze lowers to meet yours while you look up at him. His eyes scrutinize you carefully. “I respect that,” he nods, and as you avert your gaze, he gently hooks your chin with his fingers, prompting you to look him in the eye.
“No, really. I do. What's the point of life if not to grow, right? But let me be crystal clear: leaving here is not an option. So, here's what I'm willing to offer," his voice is as smooth as honey as his thumb strokes your jaw. "First, a five percent raise. But seeing as you’re already on one of the highest salaries here, I suspect that won't really sway you. You’ll also be given a new title.”
"Raf—"
"And to sweeten the deal," Rafe interrupts, "a vacation to any destination you want. You'll be whisked away on the company jet, stay at a five-star, luxury hotel—every need pampered and taken care of. I'll see to that, and we'll get to that, but here's the thing—" he whispers, his voice low and seductive.
"You embarrassed me today—ah, ah, I'm talking," he asserts, his eyes commanding yours into silence. "If it were anyone else, anyone else, no one would have noticed or given a flying fuck. But since it’s you, your little resignation created a lot of gossip. It made us look weak, hinted at instability, and in a Fortune 500 company, that's not going to work. Do you think the board cares about your need to ‘try something new'? Hm," his gaze is drawn to your mouth as you clamp it shut.
"So for those reasons, I'm going to punish you,”he says, while his thumb gently taps your chin. "But how to punish you...” he muses. “That’s the real question.”
Pulling away, he slides his hands into his pockets and, after taking a few steps back, leans against his desk.
"Rafe, you know I was just— I mean I wasn’t trying to—”
"Spare me, all right? I'm not interested in hearing what you have to say. Not right now. What I want..." he said slowly as he tapped a finger to his chest "What I want, is for you to open your legs, yeah? That's what I want."
You're shocked — he gathers as much from the way you gulp, and Rafe can't help but let a smirk of self-satisfaction curl his lips.
"Don't look so surprised. You knew what working for me entailed when you agreed to it. Now, spread your legs. Let me see what I'm shelling out nearly half a mil for."
"Rafe, I… I" you murmur.
Crossing his arms, his gaze locks onto yours signalling the end of the discussion. Hesitantly, and with much caution, you eventually slide your legs apart, your skirt riding up ever so slightly.
"Wider," Rafe commands, "Lean back and open them wider."
Breathing heavily, you do as he asks. Leaning back against the chair, you spread your legs open fully, causing your skirt to ride up to your waist, revealing your panty-covered sex. The damp patch, dark against the bright red fabric teases him.
"Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are.” he whispers silkily.
You turn your head away shyly but eventually you hook a finger into the fabric and pull it aside, exposing your slick wet folds to his ravenous gaze.
Rafe smiles in approval.
"That's good." he purrs, "Now, touch yourself. That pussy looks like it needs a good fingering " his voice rumbles with authority as his gaze flickers from your face to your exposed weeping slit. You hesitate, breathing heavily while trying to form a protest.
"I… I'm not—"
"Do it," he interrupts firmly.
You hesitate for a few moments, but eventually obey by pushing a finger into your dripping sex. A moan escapes your lips when Rafe lets out a deep groan as encouragement. Your hesitation seems to disappear and you push another finger in.
"Fuck," he hisses. "Add another. I know you can handle it."
You nod slowly and introduce a third, while the middle finger of your other hand gently rub your clit. Sinking into the sensation you open your legs wider for more access, your fingers moving hard and fast.
Rafe groans in protest. “Go slow...This isn’t for you. It’s about what I want, and what I want is for you to tease yourself. You're not allowed to cum. Not yet. Not until I say.”
You whimper but follow his command. You slow your speed til it's teasing almost leisurely and Rafe soaks it all in. The jolts of pleasure that have you mewling, the way your chest rises and fall, breathless, desperate. The way you curl your fingers just enough to make you gasp. It's incredible to watch and as your hips begin to buck against your massaging fingers, Rafe finds himself looming over you, taking in the sight of your ecstasy-filled face and finger-stuffed pussy.
He leans in and kisses you. His tongue lashes yours, tasting your moans and desperation. He pulls away, eyes back on your wet centre, focused on your fingers moving in and out, accompanied by the sweet wet sounds it makes and your hips rising from the chair.
"Go on, make that pussy cum." he orders. In no time, your orgasm washes over you. He can see it build from your core as you shudder and your thighs shake, your breath hitches fighting to stave it off and then it radiates out from the depths of your soul in a moan of pure ecstasy.
Before you can catch your breath, Rafe pushes your hand away and laps at your essence with his tongue. His hands on the back of your knees, push your legs right to your chest, keeping it wide open as he tongue fucks you.
Eating you out was always an appetizer he savored, making sure you had cum at least twice from his efforts, but right now, with his blood boiling with anger and frustration, he's famished and desperate for the main course.
Urgently, he undoes his slacks and lifts your legs even higher, pinning your ankles above your head with one hand. Without giving you time to adjust, he smears his cock with your slick and plunges deep into your tight heat, pressing you into the chair with his body weight as he begins to pound you.
It's a painful position, and he's acutely aware of that. It's deep and aggressively forceful, the type of position that should be approached with care, or ease you gently into it. But right now, it's not about you. Right now he's too riled up to care and so he fucks you without remorse or restraint, reducing you to nothing more than a fuck toy- his fuck toy spurred on by the delicious moans that escape your parted lips.
Your hands cling to the armrests for dear life as you desperately try to maintain your balance. Rafe continues to slam his hips against the back of your thighs, taking pleasure in your inability to move while he plows you deep. You whimper, desperate to escape his grip, but it does nothing to deter him. Instead, he revels in your struggle, knowing that your lack of control will only intensify his orgasm and your own.
"You want to quit..." Rafe sneers. He watches you whimper and feels your pussy tighten like a vice, while simultaneously soaking the front of his slacks. It makes him feral and he redoubles his efforts, fucking you into the chair until it starts to scrape against the cherry-oak floor.
"You want to quit on me?" he strains, while he observes ecstasy wash over your face, your eyes roll back in a pleasure-filled awe. With one hand, he gently taps your cheek to keep you focused.
"You wanna quit on me? Huh?” And he leans in further, his cock repeatedly hits a spot so deep you’re shaking, babbling and barely coherent.
“You're not going anywhere. Not now, not ever," he grunts, "Now fucking cum. Fucking cum.” His ruthless demand pushes you higher until all inhibitions are obliterated. You scream out in surrender, bucking up onto his plundering cock while Rafe releases a guttural moan, filling you with ribbon after ribbon of thick cum.
Several minutes have passed when his movements gradually stops, signaling the ebbing of his energy. He's exhausted, his fervor having reached its climatic end. He pulls out, his balance wavering slightly until his back meets the glass desk behind him. A contented exhale escapes his lips as he takes in the sight of you.
There you are, looking thoroughly fucked out. Your legs are splayed open, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin, reflecting the aftermath of passion. His cum slowly leaks out of you and you wear it like a carnal badge of honor. Observing your state, he’s acutely aware that his own appearance mirrors yours—fucked out and messy. His clothes is in disarray, his cock is hanging out and physical exhaustion makes his body seek support against the table.
Despite the disheveled scene, a wave of affection swells within him, washing over any remnants of his earlier anger. His chest heaves as he gulps in air, attempting to control his breathing.
"You're lucky I love you," he manages to say, each word punctuated by his effort to recover. His gaze locks onto yours, intense yet softened by the rush of emotions. "No one else has this infuriating, intoxicating effect on me. You drive me to the brink and back," he adds, a playful seriousness lacing his tone as he licks his lips. "For that little stunt, I should fire you," he teases.
Your fingers glide through the cum dripping from your sex, and Rafe can't suppress a sense of pride. He always takes pride in the chaos he creates, especially when you revel in it.
"I've been trying to talk to you, but you've been so distracted lately, you haven't been listening" you sigh, as you try to catch your breath. "What else was I supposed to do to get your attention? Hand me some tissues, will you?"
He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he digests your words, then reaches with a trembling hand for the tissue box on his desk. "When? When did you try to talk to me and I wasn't listening?" he asks. He takes a clump of tissues and hands them to you.
"This morning at breakfast, and last night during dinner. I barely started speaking before you turned the conversation back to contractors and deadlines and even when I gave you a solution, not just one Rafe but two- two concrete solutions you ignored me. It was like I wasn't even there. It's not the first time." you explain, accepting the tissues from him.
"I didn't realize—"
"You did," you interrupt, ensuring your eyes stay fixed on his to underline your statement. "Why do you think I kept singing the song about wanting to make some changes, wanting to try something new. I've been saying it for weeks on and off because this is clearly not working."
“I thought you were talking about remodeling the offices, not resigning from the company. It's a family business—how would it look if my wife quits?" His voice carries a hint of concern, not just for the optics but for the unspoken bond that this business represents between the two of you.
A soft sigh escapes you as you lock eyes with him, a delicate blend of frustration and affection. "Rafe, I don't want to walk away from this," you admit "But I need more than just a title and a desk. I need to feel heard, to be part of this with you, not just in name because I'm married to a Cameron. I want to be a part of the decisions and changes we dare to dream up together."
Rafe's eyes hold yours, a moment of realization dawning upon him. "I see you," he says quietly, the weight of his oversight apparent in his tone. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening. Do you really want to leave? Is that what you truly want?"
His question, earnest and laced with vulnerability, hangs between you, but you shake your head gently. "No, I don't want to leave, Rafe. I just want... more. More involvement, more acknowledgment, and yes, maybe even a little more attention. But leaving? No. This place, with all its madness, is where I belong."
He exhales, the relief evident in the way his shoulders drop slightly, the rigid line of worry softening around his eyes. "Thank fuck for that," he says with a hushed intensity. "Because I can't imagine doing any of this without you. But let's agree on no more 'resignation stunts' in the future, yeah? It's bad press and only makes for bad business—besides, I doubt my heart can take it."
You nod, agreeing, a mischievous glint in your eye as if to say you’ll find another effective way to get right under his skin, because in the end you always do. “Fine. But for the record, I do have some ideas for my office too."
He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and he pulled you into a messy, loving kiss. "We'll discuss it at home, Mrs. Cameron. For now, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"
"Speak for yourself. You're the one with your dick hanging out."
With a shared laugh and a sweaty kiss, you both begin the task of putting the office—and yourselves—back together, the line between professional and personal wonderfully blurred.
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A/N - See guys I can do sweet 😈 I tried to keep the reveal until the end shhhh 🤭 Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please reblog as it supports writers. Until next time ❤️
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scuderiahoney · 19 days
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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 7
summary: a hockey watch party, one last data point for the pizza theory, and one last chance at the national title. Word Count: 7.2k
warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mentions of bullying, & some very mild angst
You watch the second round of the hockey championships from the floor of Lily’s apartment, surrounded by friends and friends of friends and anyone who cares enough about hockey to be there, really. You’re in a pair of Timberwolves sweats, your jersey, a team logo beanie, and even your socks are Timberwolves blue. The apartment gets warm, eventually, but you refuse to take any of it off.
They play a good game. The other team is good too, though. You hold your breath for almost the entire third period- it’s tied, 3 to 3. Alex makes save after save. Max takes shot after shot. Nothing is working.
Then, Oscar comes out onto the ice with just a few minutes left to play. You reach behind you and grab Lily’s hand. Lando snatches the puck away from the other team and sends it off to Max. Max passes it through a gap to Oscar. Oscar takes the shot.
The puck hits the net. The goal horn goes off, and the apartment falls quiet. Everyone is holding their breath now. Nobody dares to celebrate yet.
“There’s still a minute left,” you say, like you’re not all aware of it.
The seconds tick down. They feel endless. But when the buzzer sounds, the Timberwolves are up by one. They’re headed to the semifinals. The apartment erupts into cheers, and all you can do is finally breathe. Behind you, Lily does the same, melting into the couch.
“Guess it’s time to book flights to St. Paul,” she says, when you turn to look back at her.
You take a shot of tequila with her in the kitchen, and then you get seats next to each other on a flight out to the semifinals. Your phone rings nearly immediately after that- the apartment is noisy, but it’s Max, so you answer anyways.
“Bunny!” He yells. “We fucking did it!”
“I know!” You say back, feeling nearly as giddy as he must be. “Holy shit, Max!”
“I know,” he says back. You think he might be crying. “You’re gonna come, right?”
“Booked our flights already.”
Lando’s the next one on the line, and it’s pretty much a repeat of the same conversation. It continues. At one point, Alex is talking to both you and Lily on separate calls. You hope someone snaps a picture of him with two phones to his ears. The call lasts through their bus ride back to the hotel, and you want to ask for Oscar but you can’t, really, not when-
“Hi?” Oscar says, voice slightly confused. “Someone handed me the phone, I’ve got no idea what-“
“Osc,” you say, softly.
“Bunny,” he whispers, and the tone of voice makes you melt. “Hi.”
“Good job,” you say. “That goal…”
“Fucking insane,” he says, voice cracking slightly. “I’m so happy.”
You grin. “Me too.”
“I wish you were here,” he says, quietly.
You know somewhere during the call they’ve gotten off the bus and headed inside somewhere- maybe the hotel, maybe a restaurant. You wonder if he’s snuck away to talk to you, or if he’s counting on everyone being too excited to pay attention to him. Either way, you don’t mind. It’s enough to hear his voice, to hear the warmth in it, to know that he wants to talk to you too.
“Me too,” you say. Lily’s motioning to you from across the room, holding up the bottle of tequila. You nod, and she pours you another drink. “But Lily and I just booked flights for the semifinals.”
“Really?” He says, sounding a bit awed. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you murmur.
“I- I’ve gotta go. We’re out for dinner, Seb’s buying, and-“
“I know,” you tell him, smiling to yourself. “I’ll talk to you soon. Have fun. Congrats.”
“Thanks, baby,” he says.
Then the line goes dead. You take your drink from Lily and take a sip. She gives you a look, a knowing smile on her face. You blink back as innocently as possible.
“You spent that whole call looking happy,” she says. “And then you got to the last five minutes and you looked lovesick.”
“Did I?” You ask.
She’s become convinced that your mystery boyfriend is someone on the team. She’s right, of course, but you’ve refused to tell her. You’d have told her tonight if they lost the game, but it’s the playoffs. You can’t do anything to mess this up for Oscar or the rest of the team. They’ve been so close the last 3 years. This is Lando and Max’s last chance. You’d do anything to see your best friends win.
“I’ll ask Alex who had the phone last,” she threatens.
“No, you won’t, because you won’t violate my trust like that.”
“Don’t call my bluff,” she groans. “Why won’t you just tell me who it is?”
You sigh. “They’re in the semifinals, Lily. I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up.”
She sighs and pouts back at you. “He’s one of the good ones, right? It’s not, like…”
“He’s amazing,” you say, both to reassure her and because it’s true. “Trust me.”
…..
“Hey,” Oscar says, nudging his foot against your ankle. “I have a question.”
It’s late, probably near midnight. It’s a Wednesday, the night before the team flies to Minnesota for the playoffs. You look up from your laptop, propped on your knees in front of you, and blink away the blurriness to look at him. He’s sitting on the other end of your couch, a mirror image, soft and cozy in the warm glow of the lamps in the living room. He’s not doing anything other than scrolling on his phone, but he’d insisted on wanting to be here tonight. To spend the night with you.
“Yeah, what’s up?” You ask. Your homework can wait. You’d much rather talk to him.
“Why does everyone call you Bunny?” He asks. “Like. I get the idea, but how did it even start?”
You blow out a breath and click save on your document. “That’s a long story.”
He shrugs and sinks further down on the couch, leaning against the arm of it. His calf slots between yours, warm and comforting and there. The two of you have been busy the past few days, weeks even, with end of semester work and practices and everything in between. It’s all you can do to just be there for each other. To just spend time together, even when you’re writing an essay and Oscar is trying to decipher math problems. It always feels better when you can feel him next to you.
“I’ve got time,” he says.
“It’s almost midnight,” you respond.
He shrugs again. “I’ve always got time for you.”
And. Well. There’s not much you can do to argue with that, not much you could say back. It sort of makes you melt, really. You let out a low breath and sink back against the arm of the couch, moving your laptop to the coffee table. There’s a loose thread on the blanket that lays over your knees, and you twist it around your pinky finger.
“It was, uh. One of my old teammates,” you say, focusing on the string around your skin, not wanting to look up at his face. “I went to a party with Max and Lando after I got off the crutches, and she was there, and she… yeah. Said a bunch of shit, called me a puck bunny. And back then, Max was a bit more hot tempered, and obviously he didn’t hit her but he started yelling, and then she started yelling, and then so did Lando, and we got kicked out of this party, and-“ you close your eyes, remembering the moment, when the three of you had tumbled out onto the lawn, into the cold air, and when they both turned to check on you- “it was all so absurd, so stupid, so- she was supposed to be my friend, you know? So I just started laughing. And Lando was looking at me like I was crazy, but then Max started laughing, too, and Lando dragged us both home and ordered pizza, and Charles was still up, so he heard the story. And the name stuck. Honestly, I like it. It’s a way to reclaim the insult, you know?”
You look up and find him watching you, drumming his fingers against his knee. There’s a soft, sort of sad look on his face. Your cheeks grow warm. He makes you feel so seen, in this way that feels a little overwhelming at times.
“You and Max have this thing in common,” he says. “You tell these borderline traumatic stories like they’re funny.”
You scoff. “Me getting mildly made fun of by an ex teammate is not on the same level as Max’s stories.”
Oscar blinks. “But it’s not about the level of it, right? And that was a low blow from her, after you’d lost your sport and your support system, to say that about the friends you’d made. I mean. I get that it’s funny or ridiculous, but. It’s okay if it hurts, too. It can be both.”
You stare at him for a couple seconds, a little in awe of him. Of his kindness, of how much he seems to care. You shift on the couch to crawl over to him, pressing yourself into his side and smiling when he wraps his arms around you and giggles. He sinks down onto the couch and pulls you with until you’re cuddled up together, a mess of limbs and blankets and comfort. He kisses your forehead.
“Thank you,” you say.
There’s more you could say, but you don’t think you need to. He knows you so well already.
“Anytime,” he says. “I mean it.”
Before he leaves the next morning, he digs through his backpack in your living room, brows furrowed. “Swear it’s- aha!” He exclaims, pulling something out of the depths of the bag.
He hands it to you carefully, gingerly, like he’s a little nervous. He’s smiling, though. You take the brochure, eyes widening when you see what’s written across the top.
“No pressure,” he says, so quiet and soft. “You said you wanted to find a connection to soccer again, and I saw this, and…” he shrugs. “Thought of you. We can talk about it if you want, or not at all, or-“
You interrupt him, because you think he might be on the verge of rambling a bit. You stare down at the brochure in your hand and smile. “Thanks, Osc. This means the world to me, you know that? You mean the world to me.”
His face breaks out into a warm grin, and you can’t help but kiss him. He smiles into it, the way he always does when you first press your lips to his. Like he can’t quite believe it. You know the feeling.
He’s off to Minnesota in just a couple hours. You’ll be on your way shortly after that. You slip the brochure into your already packed carry on with a warm feeling in your chest.
…..
The guys fly out together, but you and Lily head there separately. The hotel you’ve booked is near the rink, just to make things easier. Max is the one to get you both set up with tickets to the game, since he’s the captain, so they’re relatively good seats, with a good view. By the time the game day rolls around, you feel like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin. Lily seems to be the same. You have a little pregame in your hotel room, just to take the edge off, really.
The arena is cold, like most of them are. It feels strange. You’re so used to the home rink that this one feels new and weird and sort of wrong. You file down to your seats and try your best to take it in. You look down at the ice, where in just a little bit, your friends will be playing their hearts out. Your boyfriend will be playing his heart out. You feel nauseous, suddenly.
Lily grabs your arm and squeezes softly. “Your stomach?” You nod, and she smiles sympathetically. “Yeah. That’s normal. I get it every big game Alex plays in.”
You frown. “I’ve watched so many games, though.”
“It’s different when it’s someone you… care about.” She says.
Her suggestion for a cure to the nausea is soft pretzels, so the two of you make friends with your seat neighbors, leave your jackets there, and head off in search of warm bread. It doesn’t take long to find it. You take small bites of the pretzel as you wander the arena. They’re selling merch- jerseys and beanies and anything else you could imagine. Both of you stop to buy something, wanting to remember this. Lily picks up a t-shirt for Alex. You buy a beanie for yourself and a baseball cap for Oscar. She studies you carefully, but she doesn’t ask any questions.
You stop her just before you get out to the rink again, in the walkway to the seats. “You know who it is, don’t you?”
She laughs and reaches for your arm again, squeezing. “Babe, it’s not hard to figure out. But what you said at the apartment, after the last game- it’s the playoffs. If you’re superstitious about it… I can wait to confirm.”
You take a breath and nod. “Okay.”
“But as soon as this is done, I’m kidnapping you and making you tell me everything,” she says. She squeezes your arm again. “Also, I’m very happy for you.”
You melt. “Thanks, Lily.”
The two of you get back to your seats just before they take to the ice for warmups. You catch yourself holding your breath as you watch Oscar skate loops and patterns around the rink. He goes through his normal warmup routine, he chats with Max and Charles along the way, and then he takes a second, spinning slowly on the ice and looking up at the crowd. You wave when he faces you. You don’t expect him to see it, but then he waves back, and your heart stutters in your chest. Lily’s not looking, too focused on Alex. You let the moment take a little weight off your shoulders.
The team hasn’t made it to the semifinals since you became friends with them. There’s something strange about this atmosphere. There’s so much resting on the game. You feel like you can’t quite relax, and maybe you won’t be able to for the whole thing. Then the puck drops, and Max takes it down the ice, and they score within the first two minutes, and you start to wonder if you ever had anything to worry about.
They win, easy and beautifully, and keep a solid two goal lead on the other team the whole time. They’re through to the finals. You and Lily hug each other in the stands, and you think she’s crying. You think you are too. Oscar’s down on the ice, hugging his teammates. Max stands in the middle of it, talking it all in. Lando bumps into him, grinning. Your boys. They look so proud. You’ve never been more proud.
You tell them as much when you find them after the game. They don’t have a lot of time- Seb’s set a strict hotel curfew, and you probably won’t see much of them until after the last game.
Lando pulls you into a hug in the parking lot of the rink, his face pressed against your shoulder. “One more game,” he says, quietly, and your heart breaks.
“One more,” you say, as Max comes up and hugs your other side. “So we make it count, yeah?”
Lando’s done after the finals game. It’s the last of competitive hockey for him. Max will be off to another team, hopefully, but he’ll be a rookie instead of a team captain. This last game will hold so much weight for both of them. They’re tired and nervous and you can feel it seeping out of them.
“How about I sneak you guys some pizza?” You suggest, and Lando pulls away, face lit up. “Not exactly on the meal plan, but…”
Max pulls back with a grin. “One last data point for the pizza theory.”
“Yeah,” you agree, ruffling his hair before smoothing it off his forehead. You do the same to Lando. “I’m so proud of you two, you know that?”
Any other day, they’d tease you for being cheesy. They’d roll their eyes and duck their heads and do anything to get you to stop. But today, Lando pushes his head against your head, a bit like a cat, and Max smiles, all squinty eyes. You smile, too.
Behind them, Oscar’s leaning on a barricade, talking to Alex and Lily. You want nothing more than to run over and kiss him, but the playoffs aren’t done yet. He smiles softly at you, and you smile back.
You order the pizza to your hotel and then walk it over to theirs, because Seb would definitely not approve and he’s more likely to catch the pizza delivery guy. Max lets you know that they’re hanging out in one of the conference rooms, and gives you directions on how to get there. The boxes are heavy in your arms- Lily had offered to come with, but two of you together would be even more suspicious.
They’re having some sort of movie night- a way to wind down and celebrate before practice tomorrow and the final game the day after that. You knock on the door lightly and hold your breath. Someone shuffles behind the door and then opens it.
It’s Charles. He grins, widely, and doesn’t even make a comment when you peer over his shoulder. They’re watching something with racecars on a giant projector screen. You hand over the boxes.
“Hi,” Charles whispers. “Thank you for the pizza.”
“Of course,” you whisper back. You know you won’t be invited in- the superstitions are running high, now. “I’m proud of you, you know.”
Charles grins. “Thanks. We will see you soon, yes? Oh, and- you should take the stairs down.”
You blink at him, but you figure he’s just worried about you getting caught by one of the coaches. You nod. “Okay. Tell everyone I said good luck, yeah?”
He nods, and then he shuts the door.
You head off for the stairwell at the end of the hall, figuring it’s better to play it safe than sorry. You nearly jump out of your skin when someone clears their throat when you open the door. You come face to face with your boyfriend, and you can’t help the smile that washes over your face. You understand the direction to take the stairs now.
“Osc,” you murmur, stepping closer. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says, all pink cheeked and smiley. “You got my message, huh?”
You nod. “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that Charles knows.”
Oscar nods. “I can’t stay long. They’ll get suspicious eventually, and… you know. But I wanted to see you.”
You smile and cup his face in both of your hands. He grins into the kiss when you press your lips to his. His hands fall to your hips, warm and broad, holding onto you to keep you both steady.
“You’re going to the finals,” you tell him, pinching one of his cheeks as you pull away. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”
He blushes even more at that, eyelids fluttering closed. “Just one more game.”
“One more game,” you agree.
Your heart twists in your chest. You wonder if he’s feeling what Max and Lando are feeling too, though maybe to a lesser extent. Last game with this team. One last time on the ice. Do anything to make it count. You hadn’t known your last game would be the last game. Oscar has a whole season left after this one, but it still must sting, you know it.
You kiss his cheek. “Go hang out with your teammates. One more game. I got you guys extra breadsticks, but if you don’t get there quick Carlos will definitely eat them all.”
Oscar sighs, rolls his eyes, and kisses your forehead. “Thank you, baby. I’ll see you soon.”
He disappears into the hallway without a trace. You find that you miss him nearly immediately.
…..
When they take to the ice for the last game- of the playoffs, of the season, of their time as a team, as this team- they don’t look nervous. You can feel the nerves in every inch of your body, every hair standing up straight, every muscle tensed. You’re shivering, but not from the chill in the arena. They look calm, cool, and collected. You suppose that’s a good sign.
Lily grips your hand tighter than ever as you wait. Every second ticks by so, so slowly- the anthem, the announcements, the pre game warm ups. You swear you’re going to have a heart attack. Oscar’s down on the ice, running his typical warm up drill, the one you know all too well. Skate from one side to the other. Shoot 3 pucks. Skate back to the other side. Find Charles, who’s waiting. Fist bump. Helmet pat from Max. Deep breath. Shoulder shake. Okay, here we go.
You hold your breath through the entire first period. No goals. You swear you can see the sweat dripping from Alex’s brow in the goalie box, even from up in the stands. Lily’s taken to gripping onto the armrest now, after she squeezed your hand a little too hard and you yelped. You’re leaning forward, elbows on your knees, chin in your hands. Neither of you move during the period break.
They come back out onto the ice raring to go, ready as ever. The other team has two near goals. Max snatches the puck, finds a gap, takes off down the ice, and- he scores. You can’t even scream- it’s more of a sigh of relief, really. Next to you, Lily’s on her feet. You follow suit.
The other team follows it up with a goal of their own five minutes later. Lily winces when Alex hangs his head. You watch Oscar skate over to him, giving him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. He’s come so far, really, from staying by himself at practices to this. It warms your heart.
You grab Lily’s hand and squeeze. “It’s okay,” you say, deciding to be sure of it. “This is it. They’ve got this.”
When the final buzzer rings out through the arena, you’re still holding her hand, fingers knitted together. You think she might be crying. You’re pretty sure you’re crying too. Nobody would blame you, really. There’s loud music playing, confetti flying through the air, and down on the ice-
A sea of blue jerseys, blue sweatshirts, Timberwolf blue, everywhere. Max is already holding the trophy, high above his head as he ping pongs back and forth between his teammates on the ice. They did it. You knew they would, but they really did. The Timberwolves are the national champions. Your heart is pounding in your chest.
By the time the two of you get your legs to work and make your way down to the ice, they’re already clearing the team off of it. They’re headed for the locker room, wide grins on their faces, yelling back and forth. Max is the first to spot you, followed by Lando- they’re sweaty and gross but you try not to make a face when they wrap you up in hugs- ones that are frankly uncomfortable with all their pads on.
“Bunny!” Max yells, basically in your ear. You’re searching the crowd over his shoulder, watching for Oscar. “We did it!”
You pull back and ruffle his hair, grimacing at the sweat. “I knew you would.”
Lando grins and knocks his shoulder against yours. “Yeah. Always been our biggest believer, huh?”
Your chest warms and tightens. You feel like you could cry again, but you’re smiling so, so wide. Oscar’s nowhere to be seen. He probably has no idea you’re even down here.
“We’re going to change,” Lando says. “And then we’ll see you at the bar down the street?”
You nod, sure your eyes are shiny. “Yeah, sounds like a plan. Time to celebrate.”
“One more time,” Max says. Lando nods.
“One more time,” you agree.
Lily finds you seconds later and tells you she got the same message from Alex. When you see Charles on your way out, you stop, tugging on his wrist.
“I couldn’t find him,” you say, hating how pained your voice sounds, how obvious it all feels. Charles smiles. “Can you tell him…”
“I’ll tell him you were looking and that you’ll meet us at the bar,” he agrees.
“Okay,” you nod. “Proud of you, Charlie.”
He grins and wraps you up in a quick hug. “Merci, lapine.”
…..
After a quick stop back at your hotel room to change and freshen up, you find them in the bar, nerves coursing through your veins. They’re easy to spot, decked out in playoff and Timberwolves gear. The song that’s playing is loud in your ears, but not loud enough to drown out your racing heart. Lily squeals and drops your hand when she spots Alex, taking off across the bar to get to him.
Oscar’s in the middle of the sea of people. He has a drink in one hand, and his other arm around Charles’ shoulders. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. His hair’s a half dried mess, his cheeks are flushed, and there’s a wide smile on his lips. He’s a national champion. Your national champion.
His eyes light up when he sees you, and it pulls you in like the tide. You cross the room, and he drops his arm from around Charles. If you’d been paying attention, you’d have heard Max yell your name, or seen Charles hold Lando back with an arm, or noticed Lily tugging on Alex’s arm to get him to look. You don’t, though. It feels like a movie, the way the whole crowd disappears. It’s just him and you. He hauls you into his arms when you get within reach, and one hand slip to hold your lower back as you wrap your arms around his neck. When his lips touch yours, the music and flashing lights fade away. All you can feel is Oscar, and the way he’s kissing you. He steals your breath away. From that very first day, when he walked into the house, bright eyed and new, to now- it’s all been leading up to this. He cradles your face in his hand and tugs at your lower lip with his teeth. You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair. And then-
You’re in a bar. Surrounded by your friends, his whole team. You’re pretty sure the coaches are here somewhere. You remember that, suddenly, when he pulls away abruptly. Your face is hot, his cheeks are red, but both of you are smiling. He’s so hot like this, oozing confidence and pride and you nearly lean in to kiss him again.
A hand appears between the two of you, and Oscar bursts into laughter. You turn and find Max and Lando standing there, looking utterly bewildered. You start to laugh, too.
“She has a boyfriend,” Lando scolds, eyes wide. “Bunny, you have a-“
Max rears his head back. “Lando, you are even more dumb than I am. He is the boyfriend.”
“Oh,” Lando says, though he’s in a bar so it’s more of a shout. “Oh! You fuckers, why didn’t you tell us?”
“Shots?” Carlos says, popping up next to Lando. He has a tray of shot glasses and limes in his hand. “Celebratory shots, anyone?”
You and Oscar both take one of the glasses eagerly, matching grins on both your faces. You cheers with each other and throw them back, reaching for lime slices at identical times, fingers brushing each other. You start to giggle again, feeling giddy. Carlos blinks around the circle at you and Oscar, and then his gaze settles on Lando.
“What is happening here?” He asks, jabbing a finger into Lando’s shoulder. “Lando, you look upset.”
“They’re dating,” Lando says, and Carlos is fighting a laugh, you can tell. “Each other. Apparently.”
“We will need more shots for this,” Carlos says, eyebrows raised. “I will be back.”
You and Oscar spend the next five minutes dodging slaps on the back and congratulatory hugs from the rest of his teammates- not on the win, but on your relationship. Carlos returns with more shots and Charles in tow. Charles, who’s got a wide grin on his face. You wince.
“I am so glad everyone finally knows,” Charles says, and both Lando and Max frown. “I’m very bad at keeping secrets, you know.”
“You knew?” Lando asks, blinking between you and Charles. “You told Charles first?”
Max reaches for a shot and throws it back as you start to explain. “He… figured it out. I didn’t tell him.”
Charles nods. “I am very perceptive.”
“But, but- we were looking for clues,” Lando whines, elbowing Max. “We had theories and evidence and— I almost bought a corkboard. And frickin’ Charles figured it out before us? And the whole time it was frickin’ Oscar?”
Max snorts and passes Lando a shot. “Mate, I think we are maybe just oblivious.”
Lando opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again. He blinks at the shot glass in his hand. He holds it up and switches his gaze to your boyfriend, and then takes a deep breath.
“If you ever hurt her-“ he starts.
“Lando, we can give him the talk later,” Max interrupts. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Right now, we have a lot to celebrate.”
Lando rolls his eyes but nods. “True.”
You reach for one of the shot glasses. Everyone else follows suit, and you clink them together in the center. “To the national champions!”
“Hey, that’s us!” Lando yells giddily before he knocks the shot back.
Oscar deposits his shot glass back on the tray and pulls you under his arm. He’s not big on PDA- the kiss a few minutes prior being an adrenaline fueled exception- especially when being stared down by his team captain, your best friends. But the little bit of contact is nice. The heavy weight of his arm around you is comforting. Max turns and nods his head towards the bar.
“Alright, kids, first round of drinks is on me,” he says, grinning. “What will it be?”
He takes the orders, and Lando goes up to help him carry things. Lando gives you a hand motion, a vague sort of I’m watching you gesture. You roll your eyes. Oscar laughs. Next to you, so does Charles.
“This is all fun and games,” Charles says, pointing at Oscar, “until you have to ride back on the plane with them tomorrow. No escaping.”
Oscar pales and swallows tightly. You pat his back soothingly.
Max comes back with drinks and a grin on his face, Lando tagging along behind. It’s then that it hits you, square in the chest- their senior year, their last game, last chance, national championship. They did it. The thing they’ve been trying to do for years . Max is grinning so bright, so wide. Lando’s eyes are red rimmed like he’s been crying. They did it. You feel your own eyes start to well up.
“M’so proud of you guys,” you say, voice wobbling.
“Oh, shit,” Oscar mumbles, already rubbing your shoulder soothingly, studying your face. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“She’s only two shots in,” Max says, sounding fond. “It is early for her to be this weepy already.”
“Shut up,” you grumble. “I’m emotional.”
“We have time to be sappy later,” Max says, patting the side of your head. “Tonight, we celebrate.”
It’s nice, more than nice, really, to get to be with Oscar like this. To lean against his shoulder without fear of what anyone else is thinking. He makes you feel so bright. It’s something about the way he looks at you every time he tells a joke, already laughing, looking to see if you are too. His cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and shining. When he leans down and kisses your cheek, you feel like you’re shining, too.
You dance badly with him to the bad music in the bar. You sit on barstools together and shout to be heard over the cacophony. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, because it’s with him. The two of you make the rounds with the rest of his team, and you tell them all congratulations on the win while they say the same about you and Oscar.
Logan grins and nudges your side. You ignore the fact that he’s far too young for this bar. “Should’ve known when you bought all that Australian food, huh?”
The truth is, you hadn’t even known then, not really. And yet, you think he might be right.
…..
Halfway through the night, you spot Max sitting in a booth in one of the corners, alone. You frown and nudge Oscar’s side, nodding your head towards the team captain. Oscar frowns, too, and shrugs. You frown deeper. He nudges your side, then, urging you towards Max. You lean up and kiss his cheek softly, giggling at the near immediate blush that rises up under his skin, and then head towards Max.
You slide into the booth across from him. He’s nursing a gin and tonic, and he gives you a smile when you sit down. It’s forced. You frown deeper still and tilt your head at him. It’s loud in the bar, but the sigh he lets out is big enough for you to hear it loud and clear.
“I’m fine,” he says, which is so obviously not true that you almost laugh. “Seriously, Bunny, go celebrate with your boyfriend.”
You’re a bit taken aback by the tone he uses, by the way he nearly trips over the word boyfriend. You blink at him. He sighs again and scrubs his hand harshly over his jaw.
“Talk to me,” you insist, knocking your glass against his lightly. “Come on, Max, you’re a national champion. You shouldn’t be pouting in the corner at your own party.”
He huffs, rolls his eyes, but his shoulders sag. “Everything is changing.”
You nod sympathetically.
“Everything,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s my last game, and soon it’ll be graduation and I’ll be leaving everyone, and Lando’s not even playing hockey after this, and you don’t trust me anymore, and-“
He tried to keep rambling, but you cut him off. “Max, what?”
He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “It’s good, you know. To see you come out of your shell. I’m glad to know that when we leave you will have other people but- I know I look like my dad but I’m not him, Bunny. You could have told me,” he says, “and I would have been happy for you. I wouldn’t have called you a puck bunny. And I-“
You feel sick, all of the sudden. He called her a puck bunny last year. He did what? Max had a heated argument with his dad before he left after the game, one you heard about from Lando and in whispers between Charles and Carlos. The stress of everything is weighing so heavy on his shoulders, but for some reason this is the straw that’s breaking the camel’s back. You reach over and grab his wrist lightly.
“Max,” you say, emphatically. “We didn’t tell you because it happened on spring break and we wanted a little time just to ourselves,” you say, quietly. “And then it was the playoffs. Nothing changes during playoffs. My boyfriend has facial hair right now and I’ve put up with it because of the playoffs.”
Max looks up at you. A little anguish melts away from his face. “That is stupid superstition,” he says.
“Tell that to your beard,” you mutter. He laughs. “Max, you may look like him, but you are your mother’s child, through and through. I know who you are. That was never what it was about,” you say, shaking your head. “I just knew how important the championship was to the team. To you. To me. I didn’t want to do anything to mess it up.”
Max sighs and shakes his head. “Your happiness is more important than some stupid trophy.”
“I am happy,” you say. He’s lit up by the soft glow of a hanging lamp, and you see him smile a bit, something lighting up in his gaze. “Happier now that I got to tell you guys, but. He makes me really happy, Max.”
The grin that breaks out across his face is contagious. “Then that’s all that matters,” he says. “That’s all we’ve wanted for you since the day we met you.”
You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or do a mixture of both. Max seems to sense it, and he reaches out to squeeze your wrist.
“Come on,” he says, nodding his head towards the bar, where Oscar is currently being interrogated by Lando. “We can be emotional later, yes? Right now, we have a championship to celebrate, and you have a boyfriend to celebrate with.”
…..
The night ends with you and Charles toting a very drunk Lando, Max, and Oscar back to your hotel. Lily had let you know ahead of time that she’d be heading back to Alex’s room with him, so yours is free. You’d much rather it was just Oscar coming back with you, but you couldn’t leave them all to Charles to watch over.
Oscar’s not a big drinker, not a heavy partier, but tonight he’s a national champion. You’d taken it easy and taken the responsibility off his shoulders. Now he’s leaning heavily against you as you walk back, his arm around your shoulders, his head knocking against yours. He’s rambling about something, words slurred. You’re nodding along like you can understand.
He stops on the sidewalk, mid sentence, even as Charles tries to corral Max and Lando out of the road. Your boyfriend turns to look at you, eyes wide and bright.
“I really like you,” he says, the clearest he’s sounded in at least an hour. “You know that, right?”
You laugh and press your hand to the side of his face. “Yeah, Osc. I really like you, too.”
He nods, reaching up to place his hand on your cheek, too. “You’re really cute. Can’t believe I get to call you my girlfriend. And I get to tell everyone now.”
You laugh and pinch his cheek. “You’re cuter.”
“Bunny!” Max yells from up ahead. “Stop eye fucking your boyfriend. You have the room key.”
You scoff. Oscar blushes. The two of you hurry down the sidewalk towards your friends.
You drag all of them up to your hotel room with you, because Max and Lando shouldn’t really be left on their own, you want to keep Oscar with you, and it would be rude to leave Charles out. They fumble into the room, full of giggles. Max flops down on one of the beds. Lando lands on the other.
“Nope,” you say, shoving at Max. “That’s my bed.”
Max grumbles but rolls over anyways, sliding onto the floor between the bed and the little balcony. You snort out a laugh. Oscar sits down on the end of your bed and grins at you, cheeks rosy. You smile right back at him.
“Hey. You two,” Lando says, voice slightly muffled by the pillow he has his face smashed against. “No sex while we’re in the room.”
“Oh my god,” both you and Oscar say at the same time. You tack on a “Shut up,” for added effect.
Charles rubs at his face sleepily. “I need to sleep.”
Everyone seems to agree with that. You crawl into bed, and Oscar follows, seemingly too sleepy to be apprehensive about it even though your friends are in the room. He leans over and kisses your forehead.
“G’night, champ,” you whisper.
“Goodnight,” he mumbles back.
“We are all champions,” Max calls out from the floor.
“Go to sleep,” Charles says with a whine.
…..
You’re the one to get all four of them up the next morning, ready with coffee and pastries from the hotel lobby to try and fend off the hangovers. You hand Oscar the hat you’d bought for him the night before, and he takes it gratefully, shoving it down on his head to cover his messy hair. There are bags under his bloodshot eyes, but he’s grinning so wide. He’s subdued this morning- they all are, nursing the hangover of the century- but he still finds a second when nobody’s looking to pull you in with a hand on your hip and press his lips to yours. It makes your heart skip a beat, and you feel a little ridiculous for it, but when you pull away his cheeks are red, and you think maybe he’s feeling it too. The pride, mixed with getting to spend moments like these together. Celebrating together, recovering together. It’s all you’ve wanted.
You corral him, Charles, Max, and Lando out of the hotel room just before their call time to get on the bus. You walk them all the way to their hotel- it’s not far. Sebastian is standing outside, a baseball cap pulled low over his own eyes, clipboard in hand. He laughs when he sees the five of you.
“Carlos said you would have them,” he says, gesturing at all of you. He has one eyebrow quirked, like he’s trying to assess exactly what’s going on. “They are lucky their teammates were nice enough to gather their luggage. And, probably, that you were there to… take care of them.”
You shrug. “I’m not running a brothel or something, if that’s what you’re saying.”
“Jesus, Bunny,” Max says with a roll of his eyes.
Seb balks. “That is not what I was saying, because that would be weird and inappropriate.”
“Forgive her,” Lando says, patting Seb’s shoulder. “She had a hell of a night.”
“She did?” Max snarks, nudging your shoulder before he follows Lando. “Do you remember what happened when she walked into the bar?”
Charles laughs, shakes his head, and gets on the bus, too. You’re left standing there with Oscar and Seb. Oscar pouts- he’s not one for PDA, especially in front of his coach, it seems- but he pulls you under his arm and dashes a soft kiss against your forehead. It’s enough, for now. It’s more than you’ve had before, really.
Seb clears his throat. “Sorry, lovebirds,” he says, pointedly looking up at the sky. “We’ve got to go.”
“Good luck with them,” you say, nudging your shoulder against Oscar’s.
He nods, making a solemn face. “If I don’t make it back, you know who to investigate first.”
You nod. “Carlos, probably.”
Oscar laughs, eyes crinkled at the edges, and then he’s stepping away onto the bus. You feel the distance in your chest already. Then you hear his teammates start to holler and whistle at him, and you laugh. They wouldn’t do it if they didn’t love him.
Seb nods goodbye as he climbs onto the bus. Then he turns back over his shoulder, voice low, as he says, “you really brought him out of his shell. Thanks.”
The door closes before you can respond. It’s okay, though- you think it’s pretty plain to see, to anyone who’s ever looked at the two of you together- Oscar’s helped you just as much.
…..
note: thank you ALL so much for sticking with me & this story. i’ve got plans for one last part, but these next few weeks are going to be a bit hectic so please bear with me! tysm for reading, hope you enjoyed!!
series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11 @tsireyasgf @si1ver06 @scopeiguess
538 notes · View notes
dark-night-hero · 5 days
Text
Imagine going on a date with Itoshi Sae.
"Come on now Sae." "No." "Just once." "No." "Sae." "No." "Fine, I'll go ask someone to accompany me then." You stated, rolling your eyes at him and was about to march away when be grab a hold of your arm and started dragging you off to the photo booth you have been making a fuss off. Scoffing at his behavior, a smirk made its way on your lips. You knew he could not win against you.
Imagine he looks like he does not want to be in this cramp place. Looking at his still frowning face on the screen as you inserted the right amount of bill needed for it to work, you pout and slap him playfully in the arm. "Hey smile a little will you? Everyone who would see our picture will think I forced you into this." But you did semi forced him into this, threatening to be with another- he knew you would not actually do that. So he was left no choice but to play along in the end.
Imagine the first pic was you smiling happy in the camera while he was still frowning, not aware that the countdown already started. The second picture was you looking at him with a pout as his face seemingly soften, meeting your gaze. The third picture has your eyes close and mouth seemed to be in the middle of saying something while his eyes seemed to be rolling, face not wanting to be scolded on whatever you are saying. The forth picture has you looking fumming, finger pointing on the camera as he looked bored. The fifth picture has his fingers pressed upon your chin as he lean close with half lidded eyes, your face evidently shock.
Imagine on the sixth picture, his lips were pressed upon yours with his eyes closed, hands on your neck while the other cups your cheek that was not facing the camera, you on the other hand has your eyes wide open in shock and seemed to be stiff. The seventh picture was sweet. This time both of you has your eyes closed, your arms resting on his should has you clasp your hands behind. His hands now on the back of your neck, pulling you close for what it seemed was deeper and closer kiss. The eighth picture was a blur or to be exact, it was covered by Sae's hand.
Imagine the ninth picture looking intimate, with his hands caressing your cheek, your forehead against each other. You had your eyes closed and yet you are smiling. He on the other hand has his eyes open, looking at you, looking at you fondly. The tenth and last picture was pretty smile, your heads were close to each other as you seemingly was chuckling in your hand, cheeks flush as you look really flustered and happy all the same time. Sae on the other hand was laughing too, cheeks flush as he glance at you. It was simple yet meaningful photo.
"Shit. We could only choose five to print." You seemed to be in distress as the countdown continue. "What do we choose?" This time you looked at him, eyes begging for help as if he could. Well, if you are asking for his help then might as well choose the one he thinks were the best. So without second thoughts, he pressed the one that he thinks were okay. "Wait how do I do this?" He whispered then frown and so you laugh. "Here, what do you want to pick?"
Imagine, Sae never really a fan of doing something like this. But the more he stare at his own copy of the printed photo on his hand. The way his lips unconsciously curl up into a smile before storing it on his pocket. And then he look forward, only then didnhe realize you were looking at him with a silly smile on your lips, arms crossed ready to tease him. "So you do like it." "Shut up..." "Oh Sae.." There was never a dull moment with you.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°
628 notes · View notes
onlyjaeyun · 2 months
Text
𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝟒𝟒
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔
⤥ 𝐰𝐜: 𝟔.𝟖𝐤
⤥ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤.
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“No fucking way!”
The exclamation of excitement reaches your ears before your brain can process the feeling of Jungwon’s weight basically falling onto your body as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and starts laughing in response to his birthday gift.
All you can do is join in on his laughter, tightening the hug and embracing the comfort it comes with.
“Thank you so fucking much”, Jungwon says and pulls away, the plane tickets firmly in his hands as he looks at you with big, excited eyes and his cheeks covered in the sweetest shade of pink.
“Don’t expect anything like this for the next five years, though”, you joke and embrace your adopted sibling into another tight hug, making sure to keep your eyes closed because the mere thought of meeting Sunghoon’s gaze makes your heartbeat double its pace.
There’s been this very significant yet subtle shift in the way he’s looking at you and although the two of you have been spending quite a bit of time around each other, you have yet to get used to it all. However, you’re in no way complaining about it because for the first time in almost a decade, you don’t feel this specific heaviness weighing on your chest whenever he’s around.
The past few weeks have definitely not been easy for you. No matter how healing and relieving the conversation with your brother about your past life choices was, you have yet to find the courage to face the one person you’ve been avoiding as much as possible lately, only for life to challenge you with his constant presence around you.
You still feel as attracted to Sunghoon as you did before the friendsmas dinner almost two months ago, maybe even more now that you’ve finally accepted the fact that you want him in many more ways than just sexually.
It definitely wasn’t easy for you to admit this to yourself and took you about three different and very lengthy conversations with your closest people but the longer you’ve thought about it, the more you’ve realized that there’s not really a point in denying your feelings any longer.
You want Park Sunghoon.
In the deepest bits of your heart you know no guy who’s entered and left your life has ever managed to even come close to him, but these are thoughts you’ve been a little more hesitant to explore. The thought of him becoming the one in your heart after years of hating him scares you, so much you’ve only ever said it out loud once to yourself in the darkness of your room after crying for hours over all the time you both won’t ever get back.
Park Sunghoon was the first boy to break your heart, yet even after all these years you’ve remained deeply in love with him. Some people might question your sanity, your mental and emotional wellbeing as well as your rational thinking, but to you it’s him. It’s always been him.
You have yet to figure out why exactly, but one thing you’ve always been subconsciously aware of is that your deep, vile hatred has always had its root in the pure, innocent love you’ve been carrying in your heart ever since he entered your life all those years ago.
There’s just something so special about him, which might be the reason why his lack of communication, his betrayal and the way he’s been treating you all these years hurts as much as it does.
You know there’s no point in wondering, guessing and imagining things when all you have to do is just talk to him, something all of your mutual friends have been very adamant about for the past few weeks (probably even years if you’re being fully honest to yourself).
But how come the only right way to finally receive all the answers and explanations to the question marks in your mind feels like the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do in your life? Why is it this scary?
Maybe it’s because you’ve never felt this strongly about all the other men in your life, not even the ones you had convinced yourself to be in love with and maybe it’s because the possibility of things not working out in the end has already broken your poor heart into thousands of pieces.
Every time your eyes find their way to the ring on your finger, one of the most meaningful and sentimental gifts you’ve ever received, you remember that after everything, Sunghoon knows a part of you which you’ve been keeping locked away and protected for way too long. To him, you’re not just a friend, you never have been. To him, you’re you. You’re an individual, your own person. In moments where the whole world was expecting something from you, to be a certain way or do and say certain things, Sunghoon was the one to just sit back and watch, cheer you on from the sidelines because his trust in you was endless. He always knew you’d find your way through it all.
When you first started to have thoughts like these, it felt wrong because you thought you’d discredit your friends and their places in your life, their undying support and love, only to realize that of everyone you’ve ever known, Sunghoon was the first one to believe in you.
He was there when Riki was too young to even understand what was going on, he was there when you had nobody. He was the first one to stay.
The more your eyes meet, the deeper the desire to just be close to him, feel his touch on your skin and lose yourself in the comfort it comes with, runs and you can’t help but allow yourself to catch a tiny glimpse of him from the corner of your eye.
“Stop staring, you’re being so obvious”, Jaeyun suddenly whispers into your ear, the sheer shock of hearing his usually so soothing voice in the midst of your daydreams is enough to pull you back into reality, “he’s not being subtle either, I can’t believe y’all had us fooled for so long. No wonder you guys got to fuck next door, I would have never noticed if I was drunk right now.”
With your eyes widened in absolute disbelief you slowly turn your head to the side to look at your best friend only to realize just how close he is.
“That’s a little too close”, Jaeyun jokes smiles charmingly, knowing that there’s one person in the room whose sole attention has been on you for the past five hours, “I really really don’t want him to beat me up again so, meet me in the kitchen.”
“Again? What does that mean? Jaeyun, where are you–”, but you don’t get to finish your whisper shouted questions as he casually jumps onto his feet and suddenly disappears in the hallway, leaving you no choice but to do as you’re told.
With everyone’s focus remaining on each other, except for Sunghoon’s (of course), you slowly get up and make your way to the kitchen, your heart brutally hammering against your chest as you try to think of possible scenarios for the upcoming few minutes.
As soon as you close the door behind you, Jake’s lips stretch into a big smile, his eyes turning into little half moons as the excitement becomes evident in every single one of his facial muscles.
“What–”, “For the love of whatever or whoever you believe in, please just talk to him”, your best friend is quick to throw the reason for his request into your face and all you can do is look at him with raised brows and widened eyes.
“Don’t you dare look ag me like I’m the crazy one when you two have been eyefucking each other for hours and I had to witness it all because I promised not to drink and it’s actually awful”, Jaeyun rambles, his usually so relaxed expressions are drenched in confusion, his whole body language lets you know just how much this has been weighing on him and if it wasn’t for the things he just said, you would have actually felt bad for him.
It takes you a few moments to process everything he just dropped onto you, but as soon as your brain has managed to catch up, you can’t stop the huge mixture of emotions from hitting you in all the right places.
“Jaeyun, I don’t know if I’m ready”, you whisper and feel the tears announcing their arrival as they burn in between your eyes.
“That’s what you think”, Jake sighs and rolls his eyes, behavior you’re actually not used to receiving from your usually so soft spoken best friend, “you’re more than just ready for this, my dearest friend. You’ve actually been waiting for this conversation for over nine years. Please, stop running away from this, from him.”
Usually Sim Jaeyun leaves you speechless with the rather out of pocket things he tends to say in the most inappropriate moments, yet this time he’s managed to leave you absolutely shocked with his honesty.
You don’t know what to say, nor do you have any idea how to react or what to do, but in the deepest pits of your gut you feel genuinely relieved to hear your hidden wishes to be confirmed.
Knowing that Sunghoon’s behavior towards you isn’t just a fabrication of your wishful thinking has taken a huge weight off of your shoulders and for the first time in weeks, the fog in your head clears up and you allow yourself to push all those doubts, worries and worst case scenarios into the darkest corner of your mind and focus on what your heart actually wants.
“Okay”, you whisper and take a deep breath, “you’re fucking right.”
“Fuck yeah, I am! Let’s fucking go!”
Jaeyun is quick to burst into loud cheers and words of enthusiasm in response to your agreement and with a soft sigh you wrap your arms around his neck and quietly thank him for his support.
You’re very well aware that the past two months have been quite difficult for your best friends too, especially the boys. Navigating your as well as Sunghoon’s emotional state couldn’t have been easy for three of the biggest empaths you know and knowing that they’ve spent all this time looking for solutions and the right ways to approach these sorts of things is something you feel incredibly grateful for.
“I’m gonna send him to our place now”, Jake explains once you get yourself to let go of him, “give me fifteen minutes to distract these fuckers, send the love birds to Seung’s place and give you guys all the space and time you need..and deserve.”
With those words your best friend quickly rushes out of the kitchen, leaving you behind with nothing but hope and excitement in your chest.
“Hoo–”, “Stop yelling, I’m here”, Sunghoon quickly interrupts his best friend as he randomly appears on the other side of the hallway, not brave and shameless enough to eavesdrop, yet anxious enough to wait in close proximity.
“Batshit”, is the only thing Jake responds with as the shock of Hoon’s sudden presence sends shivers down his spine.
“What did she say? She hates me, doesn't she? She never wants to spend another day talking to me or even in my presence, does she? Tell me the fucking truth, Jaeyun”, Sunghoon nervously rambles and subconsciously wraps his hand around his friend’s arm, pulling him closer as the feeling of his lungs hyperventilating becomes too overwhelming.
The past two months have been something close to hell.
When Sunoo reminded him of Jungwon’s birthday a few days earlier, Sunghoon was shocked since he’s been mentally stuck on mid December, his brain constantly replaying the events of the friendsmas dinner to make sure he doesn’t actually forget about it.
Of course he’s spent most nights talking to his best friends to figure something out, yet even after all this time he has no actual plan on what to say, do or even think.
He’s already accepted the fact that he’s never actually stopped loving you. The realisation that behind his deep hatred for you was simply because of how much he’s loved you all this time was one of the hardest pills he’s ever had to swallow. Almost a decade of genuine denial later he’s found himself in a headspace he has never, ever experienced before and if it wasn’t for the boys trying their very best to keep him distracted, he would have lost his mind already.
Most of his days were spent at the gym and work, places he knew he wasn’t going to be in agonizing pain because of your presence and yet he’s always caught himself looking forward to practice day because it meant he’d finally get to be close to you again, even if you guys never talked about anything but the most necessary things.
Maybe it’s because of how ashamed he is for all the things he’s done and said to you in the past and maybe it’s because his heart actually can’t handle the constant pain pumping through his veins whenever he’s near you.
Never in his life has he wanted anyone as bad as you
At first, Sunghoon was convinced it’s because you’ve all he’s ever known but the more time passed, the more he realized that it’s because you’re his person.
He’s already accepted the possibility of not being yours and he knows he could never be angry with you if that was the case.
Sunghoon’s just…tired. Mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted of the constant pretending, the hate and anger, all the pent up frustration and not knowing where he stands with you. You guys used to be best friends only for life and that god awful human being of a stepmother to tear you apart and turn you into actual enemies.
The mere thought of what might have been if he had only received that letter and never had to force himself to hate you makes his heart ache.
All these years could have been spent making life decisions together, being there for the other when they needed it the most and all those hurtful words could have been avoided.
But Sunghoon has no choice but to accept that this is how things went and there’s absolutely no way to undo and unsay everything and if it wasn’t for his acceptance of the whole situation, he would have spent even more nights laying awake wondering why life had to make him go through all of this.
Why life had to make you go through all of this.
If there’s one thing Sunghoon’s gonna struggle the most to accept, it’s the fact that he didn’t get to be by your side to comfort and hold you during your darkest times. All the times where Riki knocked on his door to cry himself to sleep in his arms because he didn’t want to burden you were the times where Sunghoon was silently praying that one of the boys had thought of you as the mental image of you going through all of that pain by yourself was enough to torture him mercilessly.
You’re strong; stronger than anyone he’s ever met. You always find a way to survive and make the best of everything life throws your way, that’s just how you are. that’s how you’ve programmed yourself to be. No matter what or who, you always know what to do, say and how to make everyone happy, even if it means sacrificing your own happiness for it.
Nobody has ever loved him the way you do simply because there’s nobody who loves as deeply, as genuinely and purely as you do. It definitely took him a while to understand this, but after watching the way everyone in your closest circle treats you Sunghoon has realised that they simply mirror your behavior towards them and it was that moment where he started genuinely missing you. Not just the way you used to love and care for him, but you as a person.
Your energy, so calm and comforting, something he’s never experienced with anyone before.
Maybe that’s why he’s so scared of losing you – again. It’s not like he’s actually got you back in his life yet but the mere thought of you avoiding him at all cost once you all graduate and live your new lives as adults makes his whole body go into panic mode.
He’d rather be close to you from this distance than risk it, but he knows he has to talk to you about all of this.
Sunghoon knows he owes you this, not only your current self but that twelve year old girl who cried herself to sleep because she didn’t understand why her best friend suddenly turned his back on her after she’s just given up her biggest dream.
And first and foremost: he owes this conversation to his own inner child.
Everyone involved in this situation deserves their own version of closure and no matter how much he hates verbal confrontation, Sunghoon is more than just willing to put his own comfort last to give you what you deserve.
With a soft sigh and a thin veil of tears blurring his vision, Sunghoon stares at his best friend and patiently waits for him to respond, not quite sure what he wants to hear.
“Go to our place”, Jaeyun suddenly says, his big hands gently grabbing Sunghoon’s face as he looks at his closest friend with a genuine, encouraging smile, “she’s agreed to talk to you tonight. I’m gonna send her up there and distract everyone else. Just go, I’ve got this covered.”
Hoonie doesn’t even get the opportunity to thank Jake as he turns around and disappears in the living room, hyping the remaining members of your group up and doing exactly what he’s just reassured him of.
Exhaling deeply, Sunghoon finally manages to find enough courage to make his way to the floor above yours, into his own home.
The following ten minutes feel like the longest ten minutes he’s ever experienced and as the silence of his apartment and late february night slowly become his nightmare, his breath hitches in his throat the second his ears catch up on your footsteps on the other side of the door.
You don’t know how long it takes you to find enough courage to knock on the door of Jaeyun’s and Sunghoon’s shared apartment, but after what feels like an eternity to both you and your former skating partner, you finally get yourself to let go of all the worries and take a deep breath.
However, you feel yourself choking on that exact breath as the door slowly opens and you’re met with the sight of none other than Park Sunghoon. Your first love, your first best friend, the first person who’s ever made you feel worthy of love and affection at the age of six.
Different than you had expected of yourself, you physically can’t stop yourself from looking straight into his face.
Maybe it’s because after all these years of hating his features, you finally see nothing but the young, innocent little boy who didn’t know any better than pushing the ones who hurt him as far away as possible to protect his tiny heart.
Your eyes nervously roam his breathtakingly beautiful features, the usually so stoic and cold expression in his eyes replaced by nothing but softness. It’s not necessarily something you haven’t seen before, since it’s how he looks at his boys and the people he cares about, it’s the fact that after all this time, it’s aimed at you and nobody else.
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. All he does is take a step to the side with his eyes firmly focused on the floor as he waits for you to walk into the familiar living room and hopefully are the initiator of the whole conversation.
But he knows you won’t be.
There’s something gleaming in the soft colour of your eyes which tells him what exactly your expectations are of this and for some reason a sense of pride washes over him.
No words are spoken as you sit down on the armchair you had gifted them at their housewarming party, the feeling of being all alone in this apartment with just him feeling weirdly comforting to you.
But then again, you’re not very surprised because one thing about Park Sunghoon is that he’s always going to make you feel at ease, no matter where you are.
For a moment it feels like his heart is going to break its way through his rib cage as the pace of his heartbeats increase by the minute, but as soon as Sunghoon finds enough courage to lift his head and look into your eyes, he realises that this is the moment he’s been waiting for all this time.
“I’m sorry.”
The first thing to fall past his lips is an apology, something neither one of you has expected, yet he knows there’s no other way to start this conversation.
“You don’t have to–”, “Don’t – please, don’t trivialize me or my behavior”, Sunghoon is quick to stop you from doing the one thing he’s always scolded you for back when you two used to be close, something you’ve always struggled with as the wish to be loved and appreciated by the people you care for always overshadowed the feelings you’re entitled to.
“I’m sorry, Y/N”, he begins again, the usage of your name sending chills down your whole body as you attentively wait for him to continue at his own pace, “for everything.”
You don’t respond.
Sunghoon knows it’s not because you don’t have anything to say but because you know him well enough to give him the time he needs to process the mess in his head.
“The day of the competition, the one we’ve practiced so long and hard for, I was so excited”, Sunghoon can’t help the smile forming on his lips as all the memories from the favorite time of his life come flooding back, “I knew we were going to kill and make it to the nationals, everyone knew this. But it wasn’t what everyone else was expecting of us, you know I never gave a fuck about any of them.”
All you can do is nod, your body tense as the blood starts thrumming in your ears.
“I was already surprised that we didn’t pick you up on our way to the competition but my mother just said that your siblings would tag along, which is why you guys had to take your car instead of ours, so I didn’t think much of it, until I was already changed and ready, waiting for you to join me on the ice rink during the warm up.”
A deep sigh follows his little story and you can tell from the way he’s rubbing his knuckles just how much patience and willpower it’s taking him to maintain his calm demeanor.
“When I finally saw that fucking monster, I actually felt relieved because I thought she was going to tell me that you’re getting ready and not to worry, but boy was I fucking wrong”, it’s then that his anger finally makes itself visible as the tips of his ears start turning red, his hands now nervously playing with his rings and you actually appreciate how hard he’s trying to keep his composure a lot more than he probably thinks, “I can’t actually believe how naive I was because deep down I knew you would have never done this to me. You were my best friend, the only person I’ve ever let close to my heart.”
It’s his affirmation of your feelings being reciprocated which becomes the trigger for your tears and before you can actually comprehend what’s happening, you feel a single tear leaving a hot trail on your cheek as it makes its way down to your chin, but all you can do is remain as silent as before.
“I guess the anxiety and excitement from the competition clouded my brain because when that bitch told me about how you had decided to quit partner skating because you never actually wanted to do it with me, I didn’t even think that she might be lying. Which is kind of ironic because I never actually believed her anything before that because I always knew what kind of person she is.”
You can tell how much he’s been thinking about his decisions from that day, how much it’s been getting to him and just how much he’s been struggling to accept his mistakes.
Sunghoon has always been his biggest critic, heÄs always been the hardest on himself and while back then you never understood why he chose to be like this to himself, you now know it’s because of the constant state of competition he’s been put under ever since his very first day on this earth.
If there’s one thing his parents have never even tried to hide, it’s their favoritism towards Sunghoon’s older brother, their golden child. You still remember all those times you could barely stand on your feet after a long day of practice, where Hoon would beg you to stay a little longer because he hadn’t perfected a move, his father’s hawk like eyes constantly spotting a new mistake, running the young boy’s self worth and perception. No matter how hard he tried, it was never good enough for his father and even if Sunghoon had accepted this back in his teens, you can still tell how much it’s still affecting him, breaking your heart into millions of pieces.
“So, they started announcing our names and everyone was looking at me”, another deep sigh falls past his lips, his eyes nervously roaming your face, yet skillfully skipping yours as the shame and guilt suddenly becomes more overwhelming than before, “that was the moment I knew I wasn’t gonna listen to whatever you had to say. I was so heartbroken, so angry, I just…didn’t know what to do, so I decided to distance myself from you. To be really honest with you, I never even realized how much I started hating until a lot later but at that point it was too late, the feeling of being betrayed by you, my dearest friend, was simply too much and every single thing I had felt before turned into anger and hatred.”
Sunghoon takes a deep breath and finally lifts his head, his longing eyes meeting yours as you watch the tip of his nose redden, a sight you’re definitely not used to and yet find some kind of comfort in. The fact he’s not holding anything back, not even his tears, calms you down because as the tears are streaming down your cheeks, you know you’re finally being listened to and understood.
“I hated you, so fucking much”, he breathes and runs both of his hands through his thick hair, “you used to be the only person I’ve trusted and seeing you live your life like you didn’t stab me in the back made me so furious, so mad all I wanted was to hurt you. I wanted you to be in just as much pain as me because I thought – I never could have imagined what you had gone through and by the time I was actually mature enough, my ego took over and your presence brought out the worst version of me.”
To hear everything from his perspective feels like he’s ripping up all of your old wounds, yet also healing the ones hidden underneath as he finally gives you the closure you had longed for, for so long.
“Everything I’ve said about you and in your face, everything I’ve done these past few years were because I was too hurt to even think about listening to your version of the whole story and I – don’t know how to even ask for your forgiveness, Y/N. All these years I spent badmouthing and belittling, borderline harassing and humiliating you are in no way excusable and I take full accountability for it. Even if I regret it all right now, I can’t take back all the pain I’ve caused you, no matter how guilty I feel.”
Sunghoon, as usual, chooses his words wisely, every single one of them well thought through as he tries to think of all the things he’s wanted to tell you.
“You know, deep down I always knew that I never actually hated you because no matter how hard I fucking tried, I always found myself wondering if you need anything, if you’re being taken care of, listened to. And I don’t think you have any idea how badly I wanted to be in the boys’ place and just hold you in my arms, tell you that everything’s going to be okay because you always make it through whatever life throws your way.”
His sudden confession definitely takes you aback and it’s then that you realize just how hard you’ve been crying. Usually you’d push yourself into survival mode and suppress all your tears for later, the urge to hide your emotions and especially your vulnerability, something you’ve perfected over the years, only for all of your hard work to be gone in front of Park Sunghoon, of all people.
“The night of Seung’s birthday”, Sunghoon gulps harshly as the memories from that particular moment hit him at full force, “I felt like a fucking monster. Nothing I say or do can justify, excuse or make up for the fact that I treated you the way I did and I guess that’s why I’m still struggling to find the right words to apologize.”
At first, you don’t hear the shaking in his voice as you try to focus on regulating your own breathing all while listening to him, yet as soon as his voice breaks off at the of his sentence, you snap back into reality and feel your heart aching at the sight of Sunghoon’s tears.
“I’ve caused so much damage, so much pain, I don’t – I don’t know how to – what to do or say, Y/N. But no matter what you choose to do after tonight, I’m gonna spend my whole life trying whatever it takes to be worthy of your forgiveness.”
You carefully watch the way he almost aggressively wipes away his tears, a desperate attempt to control his emotions and the longer you look at him, the calmer you become.
“There’s so much more I want to say but I just – I can’t find the right words because no words will ever do justice for the apology you deserve, Y/N”, Sunghoon takes another deep breath, “so please, just…say something, anything.”
The physical distance between the two of you isn’t bigger than a single step, yet you still find yourself getting up on your feet to sit down right next to him, your whole body shaking as all the things you wanna say to him rush through your mind before you look up to meet the eyes you’ve been running away for longer than you can remember, the comfort they come with so familiar, you can’t believe it’s actually been that long since you’ve last allowed yourself to get lost in the sweetest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.
“You know”, you begin quietly, too scared your voice might break if you speak up, “the first few days after that fuck up of a dinner party, I thought I could never forgive you, but the more I thought about you, the more I realised how badly I wanted you back in my life.”
Your words send jolts of warmth straight in Sunghoon’s chest, his heart feeling heavy as you crush all of his worries with just a single sentence, the way you’ve always done.
“I can’t lie and deny just how much you’ve hurt me, Sunghoon”, the urge to reach for his pretty face and pull him close to you feels overwhelming and you still manage to suppress it all as you focus on the things you know you have to get off of your chest first.
“I’m not even referring to the constant bickering and bad mouthing because everyone we both know, knows I did it just as much and bad as you, so I guess we’re even when it comes to that”, you can’t help but chuckle, the sound easily eliciting a soft giggle from the usually so stoic young man, taking even more weight off of your chest.
“That night of Seung’s birthday, I did what I did because I thought I deserved it and the first few times afterwards I craved the pain you caused because it was the only thing keeping me alive after the breakup with Jaemin”, you feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and just as you’re about to swallow them, you watch Sunghoon throw his head back with a soft sob, tears streaming down his temples as he tries to comprehend the fact that his biggest fear had become reality.
Because deep down, he always knew you had used him to punish yourself, because nothing was as disgusting and humiliating as sleeping with someone who had spent so much time treating you like actual shit. Sunghoon never wanted to admit this to himself, simply to save and protect his own heart, so to hear you admit it like this has managed to shatter his world all over again.
“But then…you started kissing me, holding my face and my hands, you even once told me how pretty I looked and I got so confused because you weren’t supposed to make me feel worthy of it all but you did. And the best thing about it all was, you barely ever said anything. It was your actions which showed me how much you regretted leaving me like that after the whole shit show in the lockers room.”
You feel heat creeping up in your neck as all the memories from your moments of intimacy come rushing back but with a soft sigh you look up and realize how much Sunghoon’s been crying, so without overthinking it too much, you reach for his face, gently caressing his damp cheek only for him to quickly place a bunch of soft kisses into your palm as your touch manages to calm down his hitched breathing.
It’s like the world has gone to sleep to give you both all the time and space you need to process lal these weird, never experienced feelings and for the first time in your life, your brain has managed to quiet down.
“It took me a while to understand why I felt the way I did but that night in Tokyo, where you let me fall asleep in your arms, I finally knew”, you never once avert your gaze from his as you try to take deep breaths in hopes of him imitating you, a soft smile creeping up on your face when Sunghoon does just that and before another set of tears can find their way down his cheeks, you take his face into your hands.
“It’s because after all these years, you still feel like home, Sunghoon”, you whisper as your vision gets blurry and the lump in your throat doubles in its size, “you’ve always been my home and you know that.”
And with those words, you manage to not only break his heart into thousands of pieces but actually heal every single open wound in the deepest bits of his cold heart, something he’s been longing for all his life.
“I’m so, so sorry”, he suddenly sobs and tries to move out of your hands, only for you to gently tighten your grip enough to stop his movements, knowing you need him to look at you for all the things you’ve still got to say to be valid.
You’ve waited for this moment for so long, you weren’t gonna let this opportunity go, no matter how much more heartbreaking and gut wrenching it’s bound to become.
“You hurt me”, you say confidently, nto ready to give in just yet, not even to torture him but because you promised yourself to never, ever let yourself down like you’ve always done, “you broke my heart, over and over again. Every time you said something to or about me, you reminded me why my heart had gone so cold and I also wanted you to be in pain. You deserved to be humbled and put in your place for all the things you’ve said to me so I won’t apologize for any of it because even if it wasn’t right, I felt justified in my behavior and so did you, Hoonie.”
At the sound of his favorite nickname in your voice after almost a whole decade of deprivation, Sunghoon’s ears perk up and despite the agonizing pain in his chest, he feels a sense of comfort embrace him in a way only you’ve ever been able to provide him with.
“I haven’t forgiven you”, you quickly clarify, more to yourself than him since the little voice in the back of your head is still filled with rage and the bitter feeling of betrayal and humiliation, whereas your heart has finally started to bloom with nothing but love and adoration for the one and only man you’ve ever felt connected to.
“You don’t have to–”, “Yet. I haven’t forgiven you yet, Hoonie. It’s gonna take a bit for me to get over the whole lockers room part and also some of the things you’ve said because no matter how much you feel like home, the wounds are fresh and they burn. And I know yours do too, which is okay. I know we’re going to make it through this.”
Sunghoon looks at you with genuine shock and surprise fleming in his eyes, followed by a gentle layer of deep sadness the longer he looks at you.
“It’s gonna take a while but we’ve also grown a lot since then, we have a lot of catching up to do, right?”
The enthusiasm and confidence in your voice manage to ease his heart completely now and before Sunghoon can overthink any of it, the one question he’s been suppressing for God knows how long finally makes its way to your ears.
“Can I – hug you?”
For a moment Hoon’s genuinely worried about your reaction, only for you to nod and almost overwhelmingly quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders.
As you bury your face in his neck, you can feel his whole body losing every bit of tension, his strong arms finding their way around your waist, pulling you even closer and a row of soft sighs from the both of you filing the empty space of the quiet living room.
Neither one of you dares to say anything, not a single word. For a moment, you’re afraid that all of this might have been a dream as all the exhaustion and tiredness overwhelms your brain, pushing you into a headspace you’ve never been in before.
Maybe this is what it means to be held by the one you love.
After what feels like an eternity, Sunghoon gently pulls away just enough to keep you as close to his body as possible, his hands carefully holding your face as if he feared to break you like a fragile piece of glass when handled too harshly.
You lose track of time as your former best friend lets his eyes roam your face, memorizing the features he’s had to admire from afar, finally up close,his soft breaths fanning against your warm skin and if it wasn’t for the adrenaline rushing through your veins, you would have fallen asleep right then and there.
“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever had the privilege to lay my eyes on”, Sunghoon whispers and nudges the tip of his nose against yours, “and I hope that I get the honor of loving you not just in this lifetime, but every single one, Y/N. You know I never did, yet I will spend the rest of my life praying that destiny has written my name next to yours in every single universe because just thinking about loving someone who’s not you hurts my heart. My soul’s been longing to come home, snowflake, thank you for taking my hand and showing me the way back to where I belong.”
“H-Hoonie, I–”, “You don’t have to say it back, not now and not ever. Just keep looking at me with those eyes, will you, my love?”
All you can do is nod as Sunghoon pulls you into another tight hug, this time laying down on the couch, emotional and mental exhaustion overcoming the both of you and even if there’s still so much to say, you know that after tonight, everything’s going to happen when time’s right and as you slowly drift into the most peaceful sleep you’ve ever had, Hoonie’s gentle confession echoes in your head like the sweetest lullaby you’ve ever heard.
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← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
(A/N: i can't believe i'm finally back after exactly two weeks. this might not be what some of you guys expected but i'm very, very happy with how this turned out and i genui hope you guys love it just as much. i can't even thank you guys enough for all your love, support and patience, as well as all the reassurance and encouragement you've been sending my way. i love and appreciate you all so, so much and i can't even explain how full of love my heart is for you all. thank you thank you thank you thank you 🤍💐☁️✨)
TAGLIST: @soonigiri @en-happiness @lhsvibez @dammit-jjk @heerinnie @primroselover @jungwon-xo @szkstay @lostwonderwall @hoonieluv @certifiedmoa @doodlelibrary @ikeuizm @kpoprhia @sleeping-demons @imtoanonymousforyou @lalalovejay @ineedsomezzz @xrr-s4sha @viagumi @electrobutterfly @mimikittysblog @blurryriki @heelcvr @wonkifangirl @joonzseoulmate @kwiwin @hoondiors @seuomo @zerasari @love-you-twice @aloverga @marz-mars @velvtcherie @niniissus @abrazosolorcereza @ddazed-lhs @acphengene @skz-streamer @kshoshi @tya0 @yizhoutv @jebetwo @myheelody @seokgyuu @blockbusterhee @luvkpopp @heeslut4life
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anantaru · 8 months
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DAY 12 — COCKWARMING
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — heizou, alhaitham, baizhu
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, cockwarming, tit play, teasing you to the brim like staaaaaahp, a sprinkle of brat taming because why not, mean genshin boys
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𖧡 — HEIZOU
"ah- i could get used to this."
and needless to say, it feels good, largely to heizou though— especially when he shadows his skilled fingers over your bare chest because he knows it'll drive you insane, his hand slowly settling down on top of your breasts, squeezing and massaging the mounds before groping your tits, together with his cock slipping past the solidness of your slit— throbbing, pressing and stretching inside.
you cling to him for your dear life, the fulfillment of his erection jammed within the bounds of you swelling pussy, candidly battering your cunt when you attempt to press down on his hips, or perhaps move for that matter, instead whimpering sweetly as heizou stills your hips with a solid arm whilst the other pinches your aroused nipple and tugs on it ever so slightly.
you pout out deliberately, yearning for him so terribly you cannot help yourself but moan into his neck, "heizou.." you say, stumbling over your words, "don't tease me now.. please." and it's not necessarily something your boyfriend would consider teasing— especially since in his opinion, you should be utterly aware on how his real taunting looked like.
in the span of no time, it had gotten to the point where it became a game between you both, one which he would most likely end up winning the moment he shushes your cute sniffles with a kiss, idly shuffling in his seat before unintentionally (it was very much intentional) moving his cock and thrusting up hard against one cloying, pressing, spot.
"fuck— well, you faced worse before, haven't you?" his words, although dripping of artificial consideration, vibrate all the way from your pouty lips, to your sensitive nipples being played with, to your wet messy core slicking up his buried shaft, shortly gushing around it so much that a white, thick ring of whites took shape around the base of his cock— he’s still entirely buried in you, with that single thrust hitting you like a sudden hot fever dashing on top of your shoulders.
heizou continues to keep you pressed against his cock, one hand long since branding the flesh of your juddering hips— and it's almost bruising to you, long fingers plunging into the skin hard enough to make you wince out and beg again, only to be met with a cocked up brow, a wet smirk and an even deeper throb of his erection.
your quivering body was exceedingly past recovering by now and you helplessly swallow down a bubbling sob from your throat when he grinds inside you again, yet with barely any strength aiding the move— the stiffened veins of his erection melting with your walls that the combination of those very sensations heizou brought forth focused on intermittently inching you into madness.
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𖧡 — ALHAITHAM
your thighs clamp against each side of alhaitham's hips while one arm freely closes around your waist, the last thing he'd want is for you to move and disturb his peace— whilst the other, well, was occupied in holding a book he was currently reading, adventurous eyes deciphering each and every little letter printed on top, eagerly memorizing and pondering about a much deeper, more crucial interpretation behind the portrayed story.
yet you're taking him just like he needed you to, raw and hard, while he barely gifts you any attention. ugh, some sort of punishment coming from the scribe? might be, but you knew alhaitham very well and that his mind simply wasn't wired that way, instead he probably thought that it would cost him far less effort to put two into one, pleasure and knowledge, as he referred to it, stitched together with both sides unable to slip past his grip.
it's mostly exhausting around your legs, specifically the insides of your thighs that began to stiffen and ache, forcing you to taste subtle early signs of lightheadedness from your desperate attempts to not move nor clench down on him so strongly.
another breathy gasp, and you let him know that you're obviously struggling with his cock being way too big and heavy to remain in that way without moving at the very least— a warm puddle of your arousal exuding from your hole and divulging at the foundation of his shaft, sending droplets of the mixture on the office floor.
"please, oh, please." you whine, suddenly flustered when you realize you just blurted those frenzied pleas out loud, establishing them right against the shell of his ears, his headphones since long disposed of and placed on the table next to you— whilst beyond questioning, besides the fact that alhaitham was wholly absorbed into the fantasy novel in his hand, he'd never pass up on an opportunity to listen to your short-lived whines, the cute weeps or the loud thuds of your heart beat reverberating against his chest.
"already?" he speaks softly before you meet his eyes, surprisingly enough his pupils were blown wide and you cannot even fathom this level of discipline when it probably hurt him too to not move at least an inch up and down your fluttering hole. "i barely started this chapter."
"then read faster!" you interrupt him, no, practically snap at him, nervously licking your lips as your hands run over his cheeks to make him kiss you, his raw erection throbbing at the bold move as he for once redirects his entire attention from that pestering, bothersome, annoying book in his hand that you would love to just dispose of entirely.
"okay, okay," the man shuffles around, "you better make it worth my time then." and he teases you, always, then drinks up a trembling moan that spumes up on your mouth as his quick tongue darts out to run around your lips and wet them with his saliva, your throat aching in excitement for what's about to come. 
alhaitham bites back a groan when you swiftly mould your walls over his cock, needful and slobbering your arousal once more— you're so soft there, ah, it never fails to amaze him. but to get himself on top of things again, most importantly to not lose himself in you, he traces your back up and down with his palm before teasingly rutting into your wet sex, it's barely perceivable to you and maybe that's what would ultimately tip you over the edge if alhaitham does not stop those cruel tactics.
although, pondering over his honesty, it's quite cute when you're frustrated and bitter because of a situation he put you in, or how much harder it was to stay disciplined in focusing on his book when a coat of a heavenly expression litters across your bristling cheeks— it just feels so dreamy to be inside you.
alhaitham might just look past the little shifts of your body that you sneaked between pauses, despite them offering you the tiniest teases and moments of friction on your overflowing hole, and yes, your leg muscles were screaming for some sort of pleasure, regardless keeping yourself still and happy to take his perfectly shaped length.
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𖧡 — BAIZHU
you brace yourself, without further questioning settling on baizhu's lap before lining your slit up with his leaking cock— his pre like a translucent film sheer on top of the rosy tip.
and for the most part, this scenario appeared to be quite familiar to you— at the end of the day, your boyfriend could never be entirely satisfied when you ride him for hours, he needs it without pause. it warms his heart when you’re on top— as if you were somehow claiming him, his groans exuberant with lust, a velvet tune on your ears so exciting as you watch how he succumbs to the touch of being engulfed by a warm, soft cunt.
this time, although, something didn't align with previous scenarios— because the second you had pushed him in, touched up his shaft with your wetness, baizhu instantly places both hands on your moving hips, breathily laughing in both bliss and an ulterior emotion as he squeezes the flesh of your ass, your pretty noises almost making him decide against doing this right now.
of course, you try to lift your hips so you could bounce up and down, his cockhead snugly enclosed and piercing your swelling flesh as he spread you apart by his girth, your body desperately clinging against his chest and it's only then, when you realize what's going on, your hot, breathless moans garnering his gentle attention.
"uh?" you tilt your head to the side, then wince when his cock reaches impossibly deep and nudges over your sensitivity, the infused tingles of that singular drag holding you captive, intimately trapped within his arms, "ah— is something wrong?"
"no, nothing." baizhu coos, mouthing a wet spot over your jawline before slotting his lips over your own. you fall into a kind of daze when he keeps you strong against his thudding cock, your hands on his shoulders when you press your nails into the clothed skin, breathing deep, slow, at least trying but your attempts immediately fall flat when he offers your body some teases of friction.
"is something supposed to be wrong?" you're sweating at his words, your leg muscles screaming when you gaze at him through confused, widened eyes, "i- i'm not sure," you babble, the shivers in your lower area doing everything in their limited power to keep the pleasure going for as long as possible, anything to make you feel at least something but baizhu wouldn't let you.
"think harder, darling." he grins, letting the exposed warmth of your cunt wrap around his cock as he lifts you up, "is this better?" no, of course not, you panic, this was even worse and you whine at the lost fullness, leaning against him to wrap your arms around his neck, his cock head still nudging at your slit.
"it's not, it's not, it's not.." you can hardly move, and baizhu swallows down your mewls with a lick into your mouth, nibbling at your bottom lip before smirking when he feels how you're rolling your hips, or at least, try— despite that, you're being met with strong resistance again, wondering how someone such as baizhu, who was perceived as a frail man, suddenly claimed such sturdy force in his arms.
"easy now.." he whispers cruelly, and you can practically taste his amusement on your tongue.
"maybe then "i'll move."
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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unsolvedjarin · 8 months
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Thinking about a kimi x fem! Driver! Reader who is basically the female version of Sebastian, where the fic is kimi and the reader doing a challenge for Ferraris channel, the reader being a bit of a know it all, and kimi just not caring
You can choose if it’s romantic or platonic:) thank you!
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FERRARI AND CHINESE FOOD
pairing: (kimi raikkonen x ferrari driver! reader)
summary: ferrari has a sunshine driver and an iceman driver partake in a challenge for their youtube channel. thankfully, the sun can melt ice.
note: its 1am sorry i have no comprehensive thoughts this is a bit bad but have it anyways i am proud i made this with less than 5 hours of sleep. okay enjoy anon!!!!
content warning: my grammar at 1am
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“Another one,” Kimi groans, throwing himself onto the couch in his room.
“Oh come on it’s not that bad,” you say with a grin, closing the door behind the both of you so no one could come in. You’re sure if Kimi had to talk to another person from the media he might explode. “Besides, this next one is the last one for today.”
“For today,” he emphasizes, groaning into a throw pillow once more. You’d both been doing media duties for Ferrari all day, and while it was tiring, you would say some of them had been fun and enjoyable. Although, evidently not for your teammate.
“Cheer up Kimi, it’ll be over soon,” you smile, sitting on the edge of the couch where he was laying down. You sigh, knowing the one thing that would get him to cooperate. “Dinner will be on me after.”
That grabs his attention, slightly pulling himself up and looking at you. “You mean that?”
“God you’re like a child I have to bribe,” you tease, yet with no malice. “Yes, I mean that.” You loved spending time with Kimi, and whenever there were media duties you both always had food afterwards. It was like a reward of sorts.
“Where d’ya wanna go?” Kimi mumbles, laying down on his side and resting his head on his hand. He was staring straight at you, waiting for a response. You think he looked pretty like this.
Smiling at him, you take your hand and run it through his hair softly, unable to help yourself. You would never normally do this, but you barely got moments alone during media week. Kimi grumbles but doesn’t stop you, you knew he always secretly liked it. “I dunno, what’re you up for?”
“Mmm…” he nuzzles into your hand a bit more, “Maybe chinese. I would enjoy some dumplings right now.”
“We can get Chinese then.”
Before you could have another moment of peace, however, a PR agent walked in the room to remind you that your next shoot was in ten minutes. You quickly pulled your hand away and Kimi sat up hastily, trying to fix up his hair. You give the agent an awkward thumbs up, hoping he got the message to leave.
“Okay, you’re right, this incessant filming is a bit tiring,” you say the second the door closes.
“Told you,” he simply replies. You pout in return, slumping your form beside him. He thought you looked so cute like this. Holding your cheek, he kisses your forehead, your nose, then your mouth, making you scrunch up your face. He chuckles, at least he made you feel a bit better.
“I should probably get ready for the shoot. You good here?” You ask, getting up from the couch. Kimi hums a yes, but doesn’t let go of your hand. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, Kimi, but you will have to let go of my hand so I can get to my room.”
He looks at you with puppy eyes for a second before reluctantly letting go, deciding to lay back down on the couch.
“You’re not gonna get ready?”
Kimi shakes his head, eyes already closed ready for a five minute nap. You scoff softly at him, before heading for the door. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” he mumbles. Kimi was not a man of many words by any means, but he would always utter those back to you. Smiling to yourself, you shut the door and get ready for the shoot.
“So this is how the challenge goes: you have to compete with each other on who knows your fellow drivers and each other the best, and of course, most points win. You’ll write your answers on a whiteboard so there’ll be no cheating.” The interviewer behind the camera explains. You nod, giving her a signal that you were ready for them to start filming. Kimi sat beside you on a couch, his face not showing any emotions whatsoever. Looks like you would be doing the heavy lifting on this shoot today.
They snap the check in front of the camera, and the interviewer asks the first question. “Starting with something simple, who on the grid has the most wins?”
“Oh, easy.” you mumble, writing your answer down on your board. Kimi wrote his answer in silence, not talking even when he finished.
“Done?”
You nod, both you and Kimi showing your boards. Lewis Hamilton.
“Easy enough, next question! Who was Y/N’s idol growing up?”
“Aha! You should know this, I told you about it before!” you exclaim, poking Kimi. He grunts, “Not fair, she knows her own idol of course.”
“Sorry, the question wasn’t finished. For Y/N, who was Kimi's idol growing up?” The girl adds.
Oh. Your smile drops as you look to the man beside you who, for the first time in any of the shoots you did today, showed emotion by grinning wickedly at you. “You should get this, I told you about it before,” he teases, echoing your own words. You think for a second before writing down a guess of an answer.
“Time’s up! Can you both please show your boards.”
You reveal yours first, the words Ayrton Senna scribbled down on it. Looking at the man beside you for confirmation, he shakes his head.
“Awh no way! Who’s your idol then?”
Kimi shrugs his shoulders, not answering your question. He didn’t even give Ferrari an answer for that one. He looks at his own empty board for a second before jotting down an answer he’s sure is wrong, but he’s also sure as hell is funny.
Turning his board around, you see Kimi Raikkonen written down with a smiley face beside it. You snigger loudly before replying, “Sure it is bud. In your dreams, maybe.”
“Unfortunately, that is incorrect, Kimi.” The interviewer calls out.
“Go figure,” he mumbles wryly, making you grin even wider.
“No, his answer is correct.” You joke, trying to tease him even more. He gives you a look but you simply keep your sly grin. He decides to drop it, after all he at least made you smile. That in itself deserves a point.
The questions went on for a while, before they got to the harder ones. “Okay, amping it up a notch, who won the 1985 World Championship?”
“Woah, that escalated quickly,” you exclaim, pausing to think for a second.
So far the score was 4-1 for you and Kimi respectively, as he really wasn’t trying at all. You’re pretty sure he could’ve gotten the question about what year Fernando Alonso came into F1 right if he cared. Jotting your answer down to the current question, you see Kimi from your peripheral vision trying to take a peek of your board.
“Hey!” you smack him lightly with your board, “Cheater.”
He smirks, trying to block your second hit. “Wasn’t cheating.”
You continue writing your answer but this time hiding it from Kimi, keeping it as close to your chest as possible. He looks at you for a second as if planning something before going back to write on his own board. Well– he pretends to write something, but you can see him just drawing a star in the corner of his board.
“What’re you planning?” You mumble. Kimi simply shrugs his shoulders, but you can see the slight grin playing on his lips. Locking in your answer, you feel the couch shift slightly to your left. Kimi inched a little closer without you sensing it. He notices your side eye and realizes it’s now or never, and tries to tackle you to see your board.
You shriek, attempting to hide your board from him by sliding down the sofa, to no avail. Your reaction was too slow and he was already on your side of the couch. You were giggling helplessly at this point, unable to contain your joy. Opening your eyes that you didn’t notice you closed, you’re met with a large smile, your teammate proud of himself.
“Get off of me Raikkonen!” You exclaim, using his last name for emphasis. You try to shove him off but he stays solid slightly on top of you, still pretending to try and take a peek of your board. You knew he didn’t give a damn about those answers anymore.
“Say please,” he mutters, still smirking. You truly didn’t know what had gotten into him.
“Please get off of me, you bastard.”
In truth Kimi didn’t want to, he enjoyed seeing your face scrunch up under him with a laugh. He had forgotten about the cameras a long time ago– they weren’t important to him. He just liked seeing you smile. Still, he knew the faster they finished this challenge the faster he could get some alone time with you.
He finally concedes and moves back to his spot on the couch, fixing his hair and going back to writing his answer as if nothing happened. You sit up straight, fix your shirt, and do the same. The crew looked confused, feeling like they saw something that they shouldn’t have. You didn’t care, though. If anyone asked you would just say what you always did, that physical touch was your love language with friends. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, except for the fact that Kimi wasn’t just a friend.
The interviewer clears her throat before speaking up again, “Okay– uh– answers?”
“Prost, of course.” You answer with a smile. You loved studying the history of Formula One. Even though you couldn’t see, Kimi gave you the softest look he has in a while. He loved how you genuinely lit up whenever something you liked came up.
“And you, Kimi?” The interviewer asks, making the man snap out of his moment of adoration.
Kimi flips his board, a Lewis Hamilton written on it. The interviewer shakes her head but continues, “I’m sure that’s a gag answer b—”
“Is it?” Kimi butts in.
“I’m sorry?”
“Is it a gag answer?”
You shove Kimi softly on his side, “Don’t mess with her like that!”
He chuckles, before raising his hands in defeat. “Whatever you say.”
The rest of the game moves pretty quick, save for a quick argument between you and Kimi on what Sebastian’s favorite track was. As you both leave the set, you give Kimi a sneaky grin. “Bold move earlier.”
“Hmm?”
“Doing all that tackling in front of the camera. I thought you were the one who said we should be discreet. You definitely gave Ferrari a lot of bonus content. I’m sure they’ll cut it out though.”
“Ehh,” Kimi shrugs, not replying for a good while as you both walk out the Ferrari building and out into the night streets. You knew he was trying to find the right words, trying to figure out how to articulate his thoughts. It was part of the reason why he didn’t like talking so much.
Once outside he wraps his arms around you, a sign that he was finally back in the present and ready to talk. “I just wanted people to know, you know?”
“Know what? That you have a quarterback tackle?”
He chuckles at the recent memory before replying, “No, that I love you.”
You blush, hoping Kimi didn’t see it. He did. You carry on your conversation, “And how exactly did you plan to convey that message when they don’t even know we’re in a relationship?”
“Hey, Sebastian knows.” He argues.
“Seb hardly counts, he practically forced his way into figuring it out.”
Kimi shakes his head, his arms still around you. “And he walked into a room at the wrong time.”
His comment makes you laugh, a soft smile on your face as you turn to face him. “I love you, you know that?”
“Mhm. Love you too. Even if I don’t say it much.”
Your grin grows even larger, leaning up to kiss him. “You don’t have to say, I know.” He kissed you back, and he could feel your smile as he did. He thinks it’s crazy that he’s hidden such a blessing from the world. How you ever loved someone like him, he didn’t know, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.
Pulling away, he gives you a smile that only you get to see. The softest in the world, looking at you as if you were the world. He breaks eye contact to hold your hand, headed towards the chinese restaurant down the road. “Okay, now dumplings.”
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ireneaesthetic · 1 month
Text
Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.
library scene • episode 1
their expressions softening and smiles growing bigger as soon as their eyes meet. oh the effect of each other’s presence!!!
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wille's staring contest and the lip bite while approaching give off so much confidence. he leans in for the kiss like it's all he's been waiting for - everyone is watching and yet he sees and cares about anyone anything but simon.
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simon dives into the kiss just as quickly. it starts out as shyyy but you can see the tension easing through his body language.
it’s a second first kiss for them in a way bc it's their first public one: the thrill, the excitement, the butterflies - it's all there. for this huge step to come from wille makes it even more special.
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it’s a super tender kiss, with simon’s hand ending up on wille’s chest. background noises fading away to enhance the sound of their lips is so on point: none of that truly matters bc in this moment it's - them.
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first they kiss and then greet with a proper hej *giggling*.
lip biting is serious business in this scene. simon's shows a lot of embarrassment tho - he comes out of their own bubble and suddenly becomes very aware of people's chatter.
shoutout to felice and maddie in the background not giving a damn about it ahsjsj.
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wille pulling simon by the hand in such a hurry is funny and so him. he literally says 'ok folks you've seen enough, i want him just for myself now'.
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ugh i love parallels in this show sooo much. they alone tell the whole story!
same spot but different point in their relationship: so distant in s2 - both physically/emotionally - and couldn't be seen or heard so they were hyper attentive; deeply connected on all levels in s3 instead, the focus is solely on each other, reaching for comfort by holding hands. the coloring tells the same plot too: cold and dull tones first but much warmer ones in s3.
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simon side eyeing the hallway but turning to wille is enough to reassure him and ease the discomfort.
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hands intertwined with the key chain in such a ‘fuck 'em, this is about us’ way is a genius move.
wille’s whole posture is extremely relaxed - one arm behind his back, the other hand holding simon’s, his legs crossed. it’s a breath of fresh air to finally see him acting this loose and unbothered around people. he's also the one who helps simon feeling much more comfortable here too.
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not much to point out, i just needed to gif simon’s bambi eyes and wilhelm being mesmerized by his face.
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hela terminen's line delivery is honestly *chef’s kiss*. they care to keep their voices low throughout the scene and then -
i have a thing for height difference so this shot is everything to me. it's peak head over heels boyfriends behavior!
wilhelm is stronger than me bc i would've kissed simon right on the spot if he tilted his head up like that.
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shhh they’re cuddling.
the forehead touch with closed eyes and content smiles. this is basically what i've always loved the most about them - the state of pure bliss they're in only when with each other.
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simon's eyes on him while wille is still keeping his eyes closed, slowly pulling away, to enjoy the moment a little longer.
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simon's attention directed towards wille and the linked hands. it must feel the best kind of weird to experience the freedom of doing couple-things publicly - people's scrutiny no longer being something they have to hide from.
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hiddenlife-manager · 1 month
Note
I beg i beg i beg, i’ve read your latest Carlos fic repeatedly, PLEASE give me a part two, please please please i know it isn’t everyone’s taste but ITS MINE PLEASE
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Carlos Sainz Jr Anal x femReader
cw... raw, cock, nsfw, anal sex, slight praise kink, creampie in ass, plot, hair gripping, hair pulling, simple sex due to injury, soft dom carlos, overstimulation, lube usage, lack of female pronouns, and lack of breast mentions, etc
notepad... hehe you ask and you recieve I wanted to go with a slight softer point of view in this due to his appendix being removed. I am like down for an anal series cause when i tell you I HAVE A LIST OF POSITONS. Anyway one down of the two stories I am writing for this month.
Part One
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“He did it again. Carlos Sainz has won the Australian Grand Prix.” You heard an announcer state through the monitors hung on the walls in the Ferrari garage. You shook your head and placed your hands on your head to breathe for a moment. This race left you stressed, your mind worrying only about Carlos's current condition. What comforted you was seeing his car cross the checkered line, which allowed you to see Carlos was perfectly fine. You fanned yourself off rather quickly and rushed off with the rest of the Ferrari team to join the crowd.
Carlos drove his car into the garage and got out slowly, with the help of others, due to his inability to move rather quickly. He pumped his arm up in the air, walking to the crowd of all his team members; they hugged and cheered his name for this amazing win. The group high-fived or hugged him to celebrate. He eventually reached you, hugging you tightly, not letting you go for even a second, still wearing his helmet. Your lips kissed his hemelt, saying goodbye. He took his helmet and neck support off and celebrated with Lando and Charles before heading to the podium while you clapped the entire time.
The entire day was filled with interviews that he had to participate in. Carlos's win was important for multiple reasons; it showed his worth as a driver and also made him the only person so far to break current world champion Max Verstappen's streak. Yet he finally arrived back at the garage and walked slowly, his one hand resting on his side, where his appendix was and where the bandages currently are. He embraced you, allowing you to give extra support by placing your arm behind his muscular back.
“Another win for Carlos Sainz Jr., and right after getting his appendix removed, it is quite impressive.” You spoke with nothing but a joking tone. He looked down at you and kissed your lips quickly. “Amor, cállate.” He laughed while the two of you walked to the car. You helped him in carefully and couldn’t help but laugh just a bit.
“I am simply stating a fact. Perhaps all drivers should get their appendices removed. Well, except for Alex, his appendix is gone.” You two sat beside each other in the car, his hand slowly going up your leg. He didn’t care if he had his appendix removed or just raced; he wanted his part of the deal. Ever since the first time he made it to the podium, he wanted his gift. It had been four times in total, and now he wanted it again.  “Recuerda el trato.” He whispered in your ear; he knew speaking in English risked the driver hearing it, and you had learned the saying, so you knew what he was saying.
Your lips were on his the moment the both of you entered the hotel room. The door shut behind you two, but you made sure to be careful with Carlos. You were well aware he was still recovering and was feeling slight lingering pain. You grabbed his hand the second you two stopped kissing and slowly walked him to a chair. You sat on his lap, being careful. 
"Carlito, I will never forget,” you smirked, kissing his neck and slowly going down his body. “Besides, I have been planning the best way to do this.” Your hands reached his zipper and slid it down. His cock came out, and it was clear he was worked up. You heard him let out a gentle breath, but no moan. You wanted to take your time, but knowing Carlos, he just wanted to be with you. You sat up, walked over to the luggage, and pulled out the lube. You tossed it to him, and even if he was recovering, Carlos never missed it and caught it with ease. 
“Amor, you are truly rushing.” Carlos paused but chuckled, shaking his head and running his hand through his dark and soft hair. He opened the bottle and squeezed it onto his cock. You walked over to him. You were still standing, and Carlos was sitting staring up at you with his signature smile on his lips. Your hands touched his cock and began to spread a generous amount of lube. “I don't mind, eres mia after all.” He groaned and threw his head back. Your hands were working around his cock, and smirked. 
“You love this, Carlos. I know you're sad. You can’t fuck my ass every single day.” He placed the bottle to the side and grabbed your hair, pulling you up and kissing your lips. He let go of your hair and placed his hands on your hips, rolling through your dips. He helped you onto his lap so you didn’t hurt him. You decided to just rely on the lube his cock had, knowing it would take longer for you to get him in you. 
You slowly lowered your ass onto his cock and groaned as you gripped his shoulders and fell forward. He didn't care; he loved how weak you got. You moaned as you slowly made him enter and stretch you out. You were clearly struggling to take him in. You got him half way into you, but you had to stop. You pulled yourself off of him and were breathing heavily. 
“You can take it.” He whispered in your ear, caressing your hips, and you fully put yourself on his cock and moaned loudly. You couldn’t believe how good it always felt. You were out of breath from him being inside of you. Slowly, you started to go up and down, moving the way you knew he liked it. You rolled your hips each time you went down on him, and you could hear his soft grunts. “Perfecta…” He groaned as you were slow. 
“Love being on the podium, Carlito?" He smirked as he kissed your lips and held your hips to go up and down at a faster pace. You were a mess from the way he was softly praising you; he loved your body so much that he desired this more than any man. His hips slightly buckled up into your ass, and he was able to pull out a louder moan from you. Your hips went faster while moans began to slip from your lips, and he continued to kiss you, attempting to disguise the moans through kissing. It was clear he was feeling just as weak as you were; the feeling of tightness was overwhelming, and he loved your thighs against his. 
“Si, si asi!” He groaned as you went faster and faster on his cock. You were grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand, and your other pulled at his hair, gently snaking up from behind his neck. He smirked as you were being very vocal through moans but no words. He may have just gotten out of surgery, but he needed this; he needed you and your ass. You had everything he wanted. He continued to praise you in Spanish. 
“Me vengo!” You moaned. He loved you using the Spanish that he taught you. He placed his lips on your neck and began to suck as he took over, fucking your ass. You were clearly slowing down, and he would continue as you shook. Your orgasm hit you hard, and he cared very little, his cock ramming into your ass, your arms holding onto him weakly. “So much…” You moaned, but you were nothing but a mess, moaning and crying out loud. He loved the noise you made. It was clear you were perfect for him. He eventually felt himself get closer and closer, ramming harsher into your ass until he came inside your ass. You let out one last sigh of pleasure as you fell on him weakly.
“I need to teach you more Spanish words.” He pulled out of you, and he helped you off him as you leaked his cum, and he kissed your neck. “Estoy cansado y tu.” You nodded, and he was still weak from his surgery, but he sat there, hugging you tightly and brushing your hair with his hands.
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lizzieisright · 2 months
Note
I’m so not normal about how you write alpha!abby I need more😩
Palestine: what can you do
Thank you for your req, I've missed writing alpha!abby it was so fun!(although this one is sappy)
Fri(end)s
alpha!abby x omega!reader
Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, hurt/comfort, "alphas and omegas can be friends!!" delusion, they really stretch the definition of friendship. No full smut but they get horny.
Inspired by "Friends" by V.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
People say there's no such thing as a friendship between an alpha and an omega. You disagree. 
People just need to embrace the inherent lust that comes with being friends with your opposite and you can be great friends. Instead of fearing to make everything awkward when you both smell your attraction, you should acknowledge it and laugh about it. Be each other's ego boosters. It's not that hard. 
For example, you and Abby - you've been friends for years. It did start with Abby hitting on you, but she backed off immediately when you explained that you're not interested. Anyway, Abby stayed and asked to be your friend, and you agreed - Abby was cool and smart. It later became a running joke between the two of you where Abby'd jokingly hit on you just to get on your nerves or make you smile. 
That's pretty much how you overcame the awkward barrier: you started being honest with each other about everything. You formed a bond so intimate between the two of you that people often mistook you for a couple. You didn't mind. It wouldn't happen anyway, since Abby was a player. 
You had no idea how many omegas Abby's fucked in her lifetime, but you rarely saw the same omega twice. Abby kinda had a reputation around campus. She was aware of it, but what could she do? It wasn’t her fault her dick was good. And listen, Abby wasn’t an asshole, no one could catch her disrespecting omegas or talking who and how and when she fucked. People just knew. Well, it was hard not to know when her partners reeked of her after, but the point stood - Abby was a lady, not a prick when it came to privacy.
She fucked omegas that no one would believe to even have such dirty thoughts/time to fuck around/ability to feel sexual attraction or whatever reason insecure incel alphas kept telling themselves - and Abby always stayed discrete if omegas asked her too. Because that was how you got pussy, you fucking morons, not by insulting and being entitled. 
So Abby didn’t care that she had a reputation - she only cared if her partners felt safe and enjoyed themselves, and as long as it stayed this way, Abby was happy. 
And you knew all of this, because you were her best friend. She told you all of it during one night when you were drinking wine and you asked her about how she felt about her reputation. 
Then Abby asked about your deal, and you honestly told her that you didn't know: you loved the touch and flirting but you felt like you didn't have space for relationships. That you haven't met anyone yet who'd make you want to make an effort - of course Abby joked about her being the one and you laughed. 
“Well, if I ever need help, I'll come to you.” You winked and Abby laughed as well. 
It was easy between the two of you to what some would say, an alarming point where the boundaries of friendship became blurry. 
It wasn't a rare occurrence when you'd be at a party, pleasantly drunk, and then after what felt like an hour of dancing, you'd find Abby, sitting somewhere and sipping her whiskey, looking unapologetically hot in her muscle tee and jeans, and you'd get onto her lap, hugging her neck while she'd support your weight by grabbing your thigh. Her scent would get stronger and you'd smile into her shoulder, teasing her. Sometimes, of course, you'd find Abby with another omega already, her hands exploring and grabbing her partner, and you'd grin and go do something else. You always expect yourself to be upset, but strangely, you never are - Abby is your friend and you're happy she is getting some. 
Tonight is a little different. You're sleepy and horny and overall, want to feel someone's warmth and touch. So you find Abby and straddle her. She doesn't even lift a brow, just holds you by your waist and keeps you safe. Abby smells your arousal and chuckles, but you stick your tongue out.
“I fucking hate being an omega.” You say and start playing with Abby's hair while she is caressing your back. It's soft and cosy despite you being all horny. It's not flirty, it's not subtle: you two just love being close, and Abby radiates her presence, making everyone look away in fear of challenging her. Abby locks her arms behind your back and you arch into her.
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah. Wanna fuck so bad.”
Abby laughs and looks at you with her red eyes: she can't control it when she is drunk and has you on her lap. Abby smells your scent and smirks, her canines growing longer, her presence getting stronger, scaring other alphas away.
“Well, you know I'm always available for you.” You smack her on her shoulder and Abby laughs. 
“Don't fucking tease me, bitch.” 
“We can make out if it'd make you feel better.” Abby shrugs. You think for a second.
“Yeah. Let's make out. I bet you're a good kisser.”
“Five stars reviews, baby.”
You laugh, but Abby is already cupping your cheek and guiding you down to her level so she can kiss you. You go pliant when her warm lips touch yours: Abby is a good kisser. She is slow and gentle, but you feel the power and control behind her movements. She is holding you with one arm on your waist while she is grabbing your neck with the other one, her thumb stroking your jaw. 
It doesn't feel like you two are toeing on some kind of line you're not allowed to cross: it feels natural and normal, like you've done it a million times before. Maybe you feel this way because Abby is confident and knows what she is doing, but she also doesn't push you further. You're just lazily making out, her warm tongue is on top of yours, exploring your mouth. It feels good.
You feel Abby getting harder under you and you grind against her crotch just to be a little shit, and she stops kissing you. 
“And I'm a tease?”
“I love seeing you suffer.” You grin and Abby kisses you again, holding your hips down so you won't be able to grind anymore.
It's affirming, it's an ego boost: you love seeing Abby, hot and amazing alpha, being so weak around you. Abby loves knowing she is the only one who you allow to touch you - loves smelling how horny she can get you. So you keep making out and talking for the rest of the night, existing in your own little bubble. It’s beautiful. 
After, Abby takes you home and you cuddle in her bed before you fall asleep, Abby's strong arm pulling you close, her hair making a cloud of her scent around you, keeping you safe and protected. 
In the morning you wake up with her hard cock pressing into your thigh and you sigh - you want to sleep more, not being humped by a sleeping alpha. Abby shifts and grinds against you in her sleep, and your cunt throbs: you've never been so close to an alpha who is aroused. New experience, but this is Abby, and you want to fucking sleep.
You just shake her shoulder and she grunts, unhappy. 
“Come on, Anderson, you have a morning wood.” You tell her, still sleepy. Abby shifts and turns on her back, taking you with her so your head is on her chest and if you could've been bothered and opened your eyes, you'd have seen the outline of her cock under the covers. 
But you go back to sleep. 
So this is how your friendship is: you're so close there's almost no boundaries between you. You're not afraid to smell horny around Abby and you feel good about yourself when you smell her being horny about you. You're never upset about her hookups and she doesn't growl at every alpha who looks your way. It's perfect.
The smell of love comes early into your friendship, and you both tease each other about it, “can't believe you love me it's so embarrassing”. Abby is your closest friend and you love her, and you two are proof of an alpha and an omega capable of being friends. 
You're comfortable with each other to the point where you complain about your cycles and how fucking horny and unsatisfied you both are during this time: usually it's you who complains because Abby fucks through her ruts. You always tease her about smelling like her lucky omega, but Abby just smirks, still rut high. She looks deliciously dangerous after her rut and the smell of attraction grows stronger between the two of you. Usually Abby’d invite you for a bottle of wine after her rut ends and your drunk makeouts would get more passionate too, since Abby wouldn't hesitate to grab and knead your ass, making you grind on her cock. This is the only time when you let awkwardness fill the room: Abby doesn't control herself and you have to stop her before it goes too far. 
(This is the only time when your heart flutters and your hopes rise. This is the only time that threatens to ruin your perfect friendship. 
You know if you sleep with Abby, you'll never be friends again. You'll get territorial about her, and Abby doesn't need it - it's a question of incompatibility between the two of you. 
So you stop her.) 
But the universe doesn't like anything that is perfect - it's against her nature. The balance is in imbalance, and it tries to restore itself. 
For the last few months your heats have been getting worse - you’re stressed, you can’t sleep and you feel like shit. Your mood swings start to get worse as well - if before you’d just get a little sad and then fall down into the horny fog of a heat, now your mood stays longer in the sad space. It’s tiring.
And this heat hits you very hard. You're not horny, you're in pain and sad and it's hard to maintain your mind. You wish you were just horny - you could just bury your nose in Abby's hoodie that she always lends you before your heat and you'd keep fucking yourself until the heat wave would pass. 
You do bury your nose in Abby's hoodie, but it makes you cry even more. You feel so alone and so useless, like no one truly needs you and you'll never find your happiness, like you're bound to die alone. It's terrifying and makes you sob, and you can't be bothered to be horny because what's the point of it if you will be alone all your life? 
Abby:
u ok?
You scramble to your phone and cry harder: Abby cares. Abby knows about your last struggles with your heats and she checks on you.  You're not alone. 
So you call her.
“Doll, I'm not doing phone sex-” Abby says jokingly, but then she hears you sob loudly. “What happened?” Abby's voice shakes. “Where are you? Fuck, talk to me-”
You take a big breath before Abby'd worry herself into an early grave. 
“I'm fine. I'm home.” You sniff. “I just- It's so bad, Abby.”
“Are you hurt?” Abby is still worried. 
“No. It's a mood swing.” You cry again, feeling so broken. “I feel so fucking alone. And you texted me and I- sorry, fuck.” You wipe your tears and hug her hoodie, pressing the phone closer to your ear. You feel ridiculous - you know it’s your hormones talking.
“Hey, I'm here.” Abby says, trying to soothe you, but you cry harder.
“What if I end up alone? What if I never meet my person? I spend all those fucking heats alone and it's so hard, and I can't think of doing it for the rest of my life all by myself.” You fall into another fit of sobs. Abby is silent for a moment.
“I'm coming over.” Abby says, dead serious, and you suddenly sober up. 
“I'm in heat, Abby, you can't come over!” You sit on your bed, worried.
“I don't fucking care! You're hurting and you're alone, I can't let this happen.” You hear Abby rustle around. “Can you do something for me while I'm on my way?”
“I can try.” You say without any hope.
“Go drink some water and take a shower. And send me some pics so I know you did it, okay?”
“I'm so not sending nudes, Abby.” You chuckle without any bite. Abby huffs. 
“Go drink your water.” Abby ends the call and you stare at your phone for a second. 
You try to keep yourself together - you send Abby pictures of an empty glass and a hem of a towel when you're done, but it takes five minutes before your mood swings again. You shake and try to breathe through another spiral into hell, but it's so fucking hard. You get to the point where you start rocking back and forth like an anxious child, trying to self-soothe. You feel like you're in some kind of trance until you hear your doorbell. 
You fly to the door before your dam would break: you open the door to Abby who's panting loudly - she probably ran up the stairs. 
It takes a second for both of you to comprehend the situation before Abby throws everything on the floor and scoops you in her arms, and you break, sobbing into her chest and clinging to her shoulders. Abby's scent soothes you, protectiveness radiating from her while she holds you tight and kisses your head. 
“I'm here.” She murmurs and you cling to her harder. “I'm not going anywhere. I'll keep you safe.”
It takes five minutes of breathing Abby's scent for your hormones to calm down. You sniff before moving away, but Abby doesn't let you, still holding you. 
“How are you feeling?”
“Better.” You say honestly and Abby lets you go. 
Her eyes are red and she tries not to breathe too much, and you feel ashamed - she got here to comfort you but you stink of heat. Of course Abby reacts to it, she can’t help it, and now she will be stuck between taking care of you and taking care of you. It’s unfair to her. 
“I will take scent blockers.” You turn to go to the kitchen, but Abby stops you, gently holding your bicep. 
“No. It's not the heat. It's the hurt.” You wince: you know it's hard for alphas to smell hurt on omegas. “And I have pretty good self-control.” 
You chuckle and let Abby take her shoes off. She is in joggers and her favourite hoodie, looking cosy and comfortable. You want to cuddle her, and this is exactly what Abby does. She makes you drink another glass of water, feeds you a banana and takes you to your bed. 
Abby stops when she sees her hoodie on your bed like she didn't expect you to actually use it. (Like she totally doesn't use your hoodie when she is too sad to find a rut buddy). But Abby doesn't say anything and just tugs you to the bed, enveloping you in her arms and her scent. It's warm and beautiful and you bury your nose in her skin. 
You don't talk. Abby caresses you and kisses you head from time to time while you get upset again. 
“I fucking hate being an omega.” You sniff. Abby presses you closer, her scent gets stronger, reacting to your distress. “There's something wrong with me, I swear.”
“You're perfect.” Abby murmurs and you blink your tears away. 
“It's so hard, Abby. It's unbearable. With every heat I get more worn out and upset.” You cry quietly. “I will go on suppressants, I don't want to suffer like this anymore.”
Abby swallows. Suppressants are no joke, they ruin people’s health - that’s why they’re taken in emergencies. For everything else there’s scent blockers that don’t disturb cycles and don’t put people in danger. 
“We will figure it out. We will get you back into normal horny heats and you’ll complain about it to me, I promise.” 
It soothes you and you fall asleep, your scent slowly changing to your usual love scent, the one that Abby loves the most. 
Abby knows that sometimes omegas go through their cycle with a lot more pain than normal, but seeing you, the fucking light of her life, suffer like this is torture. She’d honestly prefer to hold herself back from fucking you because you’re in heat, and not wipe your tears while you tell her how scared you’re of ending up alone. 
Abby watches your calm face and caresses your cheek. If you only knew.
“I’ll always be here.” Abby murmurs, knowing you won’t hear her. “I’m yours.” She kisses your forehead.
When Abby moves away she is met with your wide eyes. 
Her heart stops. You’re silent, lost for words, but something starts happening: your scent gets stronger and Abby can see golden sparks as your eyes start to change colour. 
“Fuck.” You sigh. Your chest gets tighter and your cunt starts pulsing with need. “Ab-”
Abby kisses you roughly, pressing your head into the pillow and she shoves her tongue into your mouth, her hands gripping your waist, and now you’re lost in her scent and touch, arching and whimpering into her mouth. It feels amazing, you’re soaking your pants while you cling to Abby and relax under her, submitting to your alpha.  You’ve never felt so good during your heat and you want more. You buck your hips into Abby and she grinds her cock on your pussy, making you shudder and moan. The kiss gets messier, there’s a lot of spit on your chins, but you don’t care - you want Abby closer, you want her in you, stretching you on her cock, knotting you. 
“Abby-” You moan into her mouth and Abby growls. “Fuck me, please.” 
Abby growls louder and licks your neck, her canines brushing against your skin and you whine, desperate. But then Abby stops kissing you neck, stops moving and her grip on you eases. 
“Fuck.” Abby sighs into your neck. She smells how worked up and desperate you are, and she has to fight herself to not fuck you right now. “You’ll regret it. I’m not going to hurt you like this.” Abby rasps and your heart breaks. 
You feel rejected and the smell of hurt fills Abby’s nose. She looks at you and her heart breaks from seeing you cry, knowing she did this. You can’t just reject an omega during their heat - it messes them up and then they won’t be able to keep you in their lives after, too hurt and ashamed. 
“I want to, doll.” Abby tries to console you. “I really fucking want to, but I need you to be sober before we do anything. Look at me.” You obey and Abby kisses your tears. “I promise you, if you agree to this when this wave subsides, I’ll do whatever you need me to. For now we can keep kissing.”
It makes you feel better and you nod, tugging Abby down to kiss her again. You still are very horny and Abby has to pin your hips so you won’t grind against her, but you want to cum and you keep squirming under her while Abby tries to slow down the pace of your kiss. She is so gentle and careful, and eventually you melt and relax, the heat wave going away. It takes a solid twenty minutes of kissing and Abby holding you down before your head gets clearer. You break the kiss and sigh, relieved you’ve finally got a break. Abby looks like she has everything under control and she totally didn’t have to fight you and herself so you wouldn’t make a mistake. Her scent though tells you how much she has to restrain herself - it’s thick and heavy, aggressive, domineering. Abby didn’t lie when she said she wants to fuck you as much you want her to fuck you, and it makes you hormone-crazy heart feel better.
 “You weren’t lying when you said you have amazing self-control.” You murmur and brush Abby’s hair out of her face. Abby chuckles. 
“Are you feeling better?”
“I’m not all sex crazy right now, if this is what you are asking.”  You keep caressing Abby’s hair. She blinks a few times, but the red doesn’t leave her eyes. “Thank you for handling this so well.”
Abby smiles and kisses your cheek. The question hangs in the air.
“I’m-” You take a deep breath full of Abby’s pheromones and it messes with your head, but you try to find the right words. You don’t want Abby to feel rejected too. “I’m not ready to spend my heat with a partner.” I won’t be able to let you go if we do this. 
Abby does smell of regret, but she smiles at you. 
“Of course. But call me if you get upset again. I don’t want you to be alone.”
You nod and walk Abby out, kissing her goodbye. You lock the door after her and sigh, knowing what is ahead. 
You spend three days fucking yourself to a memory of Abby saying I’m yours. 
Only after you’ve recovered and got back to yourself you’re hit with a realisation that Abby actually told you she is yours. You try to find a way to justify her words, to connect it with your friendship and how close you two are, but even your levels of almost no boundaries can’t create a good excuse.
You were not meant to hear her. She thought you were asleep. It was her secret. 
So Abby didn’t say it to make you feel better or trick you heat-brain into calming down - her scent and touch already did it. There was no reason for her to say it unless she fucking meant it. You don’t know what to do. You never thought Abby’d be interested in something like an actual relationship with you.
Your perfect friendship was built on two opposing facts: Abby is a player, and you’re fine being alone until you meet your person. And now you’re not fine being alone because deep down you know she is your person, and Abby said she is yours without wanting you to know. 
You feel like you’re going crazy. You’re terrified of any awkwardness that will inevitably come with this whole ordeal. You know you won’t be able to hide your uncomfortable, shaking discovery from Abby - she is your best friend after all, she will know something is up with you. 
You manage to act normal for a week without Abby getting suspicious - you two are still flirty, but now when Abby touches you, you feel like she sets you on fire with how your cheeks burn. Now there’s a hidden meaning behind her touch - the one you were not supposed to know.
The song on the radio makes you break. 
Abby is driving you two to the Korean restaurant she found and wanted to show you, and you two sit in comfortable silence - Abby is focused on the road and you stare out of the window, taking the view of this part of the city, when this song comes on the radio.
You're in my head / I had plans for the weekend / But wound up with you instead / Back here again  / Got me deep in my feelings / When I should be in your bed 
Your cheeks burn. It is a weekend and Abby spends time with you, taking you, her best friend, to the restaurant. Does she want to be in your bed?
You and I go back to like '09, it's like forever / And you were there my lonely nights, yeah / Keeping me together / So wouldn't it make sense if I was yours? / And you could call me your baby / But we say we're just, say we're just-
You breath hitches. This song is stripping you of any kind of pretence. Your smell changes and Abby looks at you for a second.
Friends, just for now / Yeah, but friends don't say words that / Make friends feel like more than just / Friends, just for now / Now, I'm over pretending / So let's put the "end" in friends
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just remembered something.” Abby hums and doesn’t ask you further.
Friends are not supposed to get too close / And feel emotions that / We're feeling now, now, now / We ain't slowing down, down, down / But once we cross the line / There's no denying you and / I can never turn around, 'round, 'round / Know we'll never be the same 
You take a shaking breath when you think back to your heat, begging Abby to fuck you. Yes, you will never be the same. But you have a choice to make.
“This song is about us.” You chuckle nervously. 
“Really? Sorry, I didn’t pay attention.” Abby laughs, but starts to pay attention now, while you wait for the traffic light to turn green.
You and I go back to like '09, it's like forever / And you were there my lonely nights, yeah / Keeping me together / So wouldn't it make sense if I was yours? / And you could call me your baby / But we say we're just, say we're just-
Friends, just for now / Yeah, but friends don't say words that / Make friends feel like more than just / Friends, just for now / Now, I'm over pretending / So let's put the "end" in friends
Abby clears her throat. She doesn’t joke or flirt - she understands. 
“Yeah. It is about us.”
Abby doesn’t say anything more, but her scent gets a little spicy - she is nervous as well. You also don’t say anything - she is driving, after all. Not the time for this conversation. It’s the first time in your friendship when there’s so much thick, nervous tension between you. 
Abby parks the car and you just sit for a moment, feeling like you need to talk about it right now. Abby clears her throat again.
“So do you want to put the "end" in friends?” Abby asks quietly, not knowing why did you bring it up - do you want to stop being friends or do you want to be something more?
You chuckle, endeared by Abby’s nervousness - she is always confident and calm, you’ve never seen her like this. 
“You told me you’re mine.” You start, fidgeting with your fingers. You’re scared to cross this line and change everything, but you want to. “It made me happy. And very fucking confused, because- You know what I mean.” You cringe - you’re not going to include Abby’s sex life in your confession. “Were you serious about it?”
Abby lost any filter right after she heard “it made me happy”, so she just bursts, spilling all her feelings for you.
“I’m in love with you. I wanna marry you and have a fucking picket fence and a dog and two and a half children with you.” Abby says while her scent becomes ten times stronger with love. “You’re the one for me.”
You blink your happy tears away and look at Abby’s face, full of love and devotion. 
“Maybe we should start with a date?”
Abby smiles and takes your face into her hands, kissing you with so much love you can swim in it.
“A date sounds good.”
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bucksboobs · 1 month
Text
On their way to a fire, Buck opens his big mouth and says something very stupid. Not an unusual occurrence but this one is unique: “Hey, Hen? Can I ask you a gay people question?”
Hen side-eyes him. “Are you sure now’s the best time?” The engine shakes on its suspension.
Buck blusters forward. “So Tommy and I have been dating a month and a half now.” The mention of Tommy grabs both Chim and Eddie’s attention.
“Wait, really?” Chim asks, Hen’s not sure if he thought it was shorter or longer than that. His memory of time seems to be the worst hit by the encephalitis.
“2 months next Thursday.” Eddie says.
“Y-yeah… that’s right.” Buck raises his eyebrows at Eddie. The rest all stare, Hen included. Those two have always been locked at the hip but knowing each other’s anniversaries seems excessive. Buck seems to agree.
“How do you know that?” She asks.
“Their first date was the same day I asked Marisol to move in with me.”
“When did Marisol move in with you?” Hen and Chimney ask in unison. Last she heard about Marisol she had only just met Chris, moving in seemed a long way off for them. Since when was she living with him?
“She didn’t” Bobby answers, giving his sternest glare to the rear view mirror. Hen knows this means she’s in charge of keeping these fools in check so he can focus on driving.
“Yeah we decided against that. Anyway Buck you were talking about Tommy?” Hen stifles a laugh. There was a story there she was going to have to wring out of Bobby because Eddie’s deflection abilities are legendary.
“Yeah so- um- ho-how long before we can uh…”Hen cocks her head. What exactly is Buck after with Tommy right now, they’re not nearly to the point of I love yous and she doesn’t think Buck would be this nervous about dating advice. “I mean how long did you and Karen wait until you, uh” Oh.
“Had sex?” Hen asks bluntly.
“Whoa, you and Tommy haven’t had sex yet?” Chimney asks, astonished.
“Buck when’s the last time you waited this long with anyone?” Eddie asks with a cocked eyebrow.
“Never? Maybe high school?” That tracks.
“Or Abby.” Chim offers. Buck winces at that. She knows that woman did him dirty, looks like the scar still aches.
“Six minutes to ETA.” Comes from the drivers seat. “5 and a half…” Bobby takes a sharp turn that shakes the whole truck. “5 minutes.”
“So how do I ask him to fuck me.”
A chorus of “BUCK!” rings through the truck. Eddie looks petrified at the idea of his best friends having sex with each other, Chim looks exhausted with his brother-in-law of barely a month and look, Hen would give the world to see this kid happy but sometimes he’s just too stupid for his own good.
“Buck. I think you need to remember Tommy doesn’t have a lot of experience in this area either.”
“He doesn’t?”
“Did you forget he’s only been out as long as you’ve been at the 118?” Hen learned that about Tommy from Buck’s gushing the day after the wedding. She’d also talked to him in a fluorescent lit waiting room after the most gorgeous hospital ceremony she’s ever been a part of, so she’s aware that he’s not used to being with men that want more than just sex from him. “He might think you’re just as nervous as he is.”
“I didn’t know he got nervous.”
Chim huffs at that. “Next time you see him ask him to tell you a story about a rooster.” That makes Hen smile.
“He probably won’t believe you’re ready until you can talk to him about it.”
“I don’t— I-it usually just kind of happens. You get a look, there’s a nod, they look at your lips and lean in…”
“Yeah but that was women who knew what they wanted and what you wanted. Tommy won’t know unless you tell him what you’re ready for.”
“So to get him to fuck me I have to tell him to fuck me?”
“Jesus, Buck. Yes.” Hen laughs. They are, thankfully, finally pulling to site so she doesn’t have to enumerate exactly how he needs to ask. If she did she’d have to explain birds and bees that she is not the best person to explain.
“Come on, kids, let’s save some lives.” Bobby calls as he pulls the parking break.
The fire looks pretty bad, two story house, they’ll have to split up by floor. As they gear up Buck says, privately, off-mic. “Thanks Hen, you’re a good Gay Yoda”
“Do him or do not, there is no try.”
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