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#he a little lopsided unfortunately
sunniskyies · 4 months
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𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭
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𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You, a child of Demeter, have powers that unfortunately go out of control whenever emotions are involved. And don’t think Percy doesn’t notice !! 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson  x Demeter!fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Bad grammar today 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff with a dash of fluff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: I’m back at it again !! This was supposed to be a blurb, but ofc I got carried away. Pffsh
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You're sitting on the edge of the lake, your fingers aimlessly running through the water. The gentle breeze plays with your hair, sending strands dancing over your face.
Under the water, you're manipulating native algae to creep over the pebbles. As the child of Demeter -and a head councillor no less- it's your responsibility to keep the plants at camp in good health. And even though you're off-duty right now, you find yourself tending to them.
You almost don't notice when someone approaches you from behind.
"Hey there, Petals," a familiar voice says.
You whip around to see Percy's sun-kissed face grinning at you. Your heart flutters at the sight.
"Hey Perce," you try to say, but it comes out more like a squeak. This just makes Percy's smirk widen.
Gaze suddenly averted from yours, Percy's eyebrows raise in surprise. You turn back to the lake to see what he's looking at. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you realise that around your fingers, half a dozen water lily buds have sprouted in the water.
You quickly pull your hand out, hoping that Percy isn't thinking about what a loser you are. You're used to your powers manifesting unexpectedly, but gods it's embarrassing when it calls you out in front of people.
You can't bring yourself to look at him, eyes averted even when he sits down right next to you. You busy yourself by clearing the lilies, causing them to brown and wither beneath your touch.
"Stop that, they look lovely," Percy interjects, quickly snatching the last remaining bud from your murderous grasp. He holds it delicately, stripping the leaf from the long stem.
You're still avoiding him, face flushed pink. So Percy rests a fingertip beneath your chin and turns you himself. His hands are tough and calloused from years of sword fighting, but he feels warm and gentle when he touches you.
With a lopsided smile, he slips the bud behind your ear. His fingers brush your temple on the way, and to your absolute horror, the bud blooms into a full white lotus.
"Oh my gods," you groan, burying your red face in your arms. You hear Percy laugh, a gentle thing that sounds like a breath of wind.
You're pretty sure everybody at Camp knows you have a massive crush on the black-haired boy. Unfortunately for you, unlike other girls, you don't have the luxury of hiding your feelings. You have little to no grasp on what your magic chooses to do when exposed to your stupid feelings. Especially not when Percy Jackson is involved.
You must be the most pitiful camp councillor Camp Half-Blood has ever seen.
"Hey, don't be embarrassed," he murmurs, his voice now so, so close to your ear. "It's just a flower."
You peek up at him, hoping your pupils aren't too dilated. "Yeah, and magic that blossoms every time I do anything," you mumble. Percy gives you the sweetest, most understanding smile known to man. You can't believe he hasn't run away in repulsion yet.
"I think it's cute," he laughs affectionately.
Your mind flashes back to a few weeks ago. You and a large group of campers were sparring on the large grass field. When Percy stepped forward for his turn and you were met face-to-face, the shorn grass around your feet sprung up into long, grassy seed heads. The entire field had turned into a paddock in seconds, so tall it obscured your mortified expression. But while the rest of the campers were laughing mercilessly, Percy's intent gaze through the grass-heads was soft and considerate.
Your breath catches at the identical look in his eyes now, deep and green and all-encompassing. He drops it for a second, looking down to gently grasp one of your hands. He looks at it for a moment, soft curiosity etched on his face as he traces circles onto your palm and wrist.
In the wake of his finger's touch, blossom petals sprout up from your skin. He smiles at the reaction.
"It's true then?" He hums, syrupy eyes meeting yours as he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. You know that vines have started growing throughout your hair, petals and leaves adorning your locks until your hair resembles that of a willow tree's canopy.
"Is it?" He murmurs when you fail to answer, spare hand reaching up to brush a curtain of willow leaves from your face. Hesitant doe eyes look back at him.
You still don't respond, words stuck like sap in your throat. Percy lets out another breathy laugh.
"You do know that you're not the only one with uncontrollable powers, right?" He grins. Then his hand is back on your face, this time cupping your cheek. He gently turns you head to stare out at the lake.
Where the water was calm and still minutes earlier, the lake's edge now laps eagerly at both of your feet. Above you, a storm has rolled in. Soft droplets have begun to speckle your skin, and you realise with caught breath that they feel like warm kisses.
You look back at him, his gaze having never left you. "Is this you?" You breathe.
Percy shrugs nonchalantly. "Yes and no. I can't really help it," he grins sheepishly. "Water tends to respond to me, whether I want it to or not."
You can't help but laugh, your worries and embarrassment melting. That sure sounds familiar.
The rain continues to fall, surrounding the two of you in a gentle mist before growing into a steady patter. The storm's growth is mimicked in his eyes, unidentifiable emotions swelling in the green depths.
Percy leans closer, his lips now just a breath away from yours. "You know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I think our powers are trying to tell us something."
Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his gaze. The vines in your hair grow longer, rooting you in place and winding tendrils around the places where Percy holds you. He doesn't pull away though, instead putting his other hand around your neck and letting the foliage tie you to him.
He doesn't look at this curse like others do, instead leaning into it with fascination. At this moment, you realise that maybe your powers aren't a curse after all. They're a part of who you are, just like the water that bends to Percy's touch.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you wonder if Percy can feel it through the vines that tether you together. You comforted by the knowledge that Percy’s heart must be doing the same thing anyway, as the lake is far from quiet now, the waves rolling in strong and fast. You’re both surrounded by the churning water, but you can't tear your eyes away from each other. You finally distinguish the emotion in his eyes, as you recognize the hunger in yourself as well.
Unable to wait any longer, Percy finally closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours gently but so eagerly. His thumb drowsily pulls at your lips, teasing your mouth open. You lean into his attention for once, hands curling around his dark hair.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against you, barely pausing before kissing you again.
You remained locked in a tight embrace for only the Gods to see, your bodies drenched and overgrown. And around you in the passionate water, hundreds upon hundreds of water lilies have sprouted.
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© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work
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agnesafterhours · 10 months
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lavender haze | lee know. smut.
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Your boyfriend is not prone to communicating his feelings through words, but luckily for him, you always know exactly what he needs. (1.9k words)
CONTENT: smut, boyfriend!lino, creampie, unprotected sex and cum eating. minors and empty blogs do not interact.
© all rights reserved. i do not allow reposting and/or translations of my work.
Contrary to popular belief, Minho sulks often. You do understand why people would believe that isn’t the case—your boyfriend’s dry jokes followed by a sarcastic smile being one of the reasons why you were drawn to him in the first place. When you first met him a couple years back, when he was still doing busking events with his dance crew alongside a common friend of yours, you’d watch in doe-eyed adoration as he’d flash his bunny teeth in a playful grin to his crewmates each time they got one move slightly wrong. What pissed them off the most is they could never get back at Minho—he never forgot any moves, never missed a beat. His justifiable confidence made him oh so irritating—you were attracted like moth to a flame to his character, his knife-sharp features matching his equally piercing sense of humour were fuel to the fire. 
But the thing about your boyfriend's sulking is that it is often unjustifiable. Of course he doesn't need a reason to want to be pampered by you, but it'd be nice if Minho admitted he also likes to be taken care of at least once in a while.  
“What did I do to deserve this torture?” The ever so intimidating choreographer mumbles from his spot on your bed, your pastel pink pillowcases being a little counterproductive to the assertive tone he's been trying to use on you. 
Minho can’t suppress the smirk forming on his lips at your scoff, “Torture? I'm just asking you to wait! These bedsheets got here like, two weeks ago!” You're on your feet, struggling to fold one of the new huge linens to store in your closet. “If they stay in these bags any longer they're gonna start smelling weird.” 
“You know that's not how it works, right?” 
“I don't care. You know you should be helping me, right?” You look back, a smirk of your own automatically taking place when your eyes find his. 
Despite the lopsided smile that seems to be permanently plastered on his face, Minho grunts as he drags his body out of the comforter and towards you, “You know you should wash these before putting them away, right?”  
And as soon as your eyebrows raise and he sees the very familiar smile on your lips as you push the sheet into his arms, your boyfriend realizes he fell right into your trap, “Have it your way, then!” 
The man watches as you jump in bed, getting comfortable on the spot he previously was—eyes filled with the similar overwhelming fondness they usually hold when Minho looks at you. “You’re annoying.” He takes off the rest of the sheeting from it’s flimsy plastic bags, making his way to the laundry room. “Don’t fall asleep!” He exclaims from the hallway. 
“I’m not making any promises!” 
“Don’t sleep! I wanna spend time with you!” Unfortunately, no amount of stubbornness can take away Minho's super power of having you giggling into your pillow. He wants to spend time with you. He's the love of your life and he wants to spend time with you.  
Those are the feelings you can't quite understand. You’ve been with Minho for so long—at least long enough you've been through the “honeymoon stage” everyone seems to fear the ending of. For you, it feels like this stage never seems to be over. You pray it never ends.  
So here you are, kicking your feet because your long term boyfriend said he wants to spend time with you. At least you know he's as obsessive as you are, if not slightly more. 
Minho's way of showering you with love was overwhelming. He isn't the type to communicate his feelings through words, instead, he'd do things like casually tell you about getting into a rather serious argument with his manager, trying to get the day off so he’d spend your birthday with you. Of course he would be busy, cooking your favourite meal as he casually narrates the dramatics him and his group went through trying to get his needs respected. He doesn't look you in the eye when he says he got emotional, the only reason why his manager gave in being Minho “never behaved like this before”. This is his way of saying you're his utmost priority, can't you tell? The redness of his ears and fidgety eyes are a big hint of the nervousness Minho prayed you wouldn't pick up on. Unfortunately for him, you know him like the back of your hand.  
You know that a quick glance your way means someone said something he found amusing in a way. If his hand fell to your lower back in social gatherings, it means Minho is a bit nervous and needs some grounding. If he's too silent, you know to sit beside him and wait until it all comes pouring out. With you, it always does. If he's vocalizing how tired he is, you know he'd enjoy talking for hours on end about anything that comes to his mind. Minho always needs you, he just has very specific patterns to show you exactly what he's currently craving from you. Fortunately for him, he's your favourite subject matter. He's the only thing you ever want to pay attention to—the sole owner of your entire focus.  
That's why you know exactly what he needs when he flops back on the bed, and after a few moments of silence, blurts out “I miss you. I missed you a lot this week." 
You crawl out of your nest and straddle your boyfriend's lap, dragging your comforter along and covering you both with it.  
You're both silent as you hold his cheeks, taking your time as you kiss them, then his forehead, and the mole on his nose—at least a couple times each. Minho's hand slides down your lower back when your lips find his, tongue slowly tasting his as you feel his heart beating tranquilly against the palm of your hand sliding up and down his chest. You feel his right hand gently cupping the back of your neck, holding you close against him as the other sneaked under your shirt, slowly caressing your bare back.  
Minho doesn't try to take control of the kiss like he usually does—neither do you. Your bodies seem to move in harmony, the glacial movements of his tongue making you sigh against his mouth every now and again, promptly resulting in a smirk of his. You loved kissing his smile. 
“Missed you so much, baby.” He repeated softly against your lips. Minho now had both hands under your shirt, his touch leaving goosebumps as he caressed up and down your sides.  
“Missed you too. Always miss you so much, Min.” Your breathing is a bit compromised now, hands moving on their own as you remove your own shirt.  
Minho quickly follows, his palms back on your hips as soon as his shirt is tossed to the side. “I know you do, pretty. I know.” 
His hands lay on your ass, groping as he whispers against your lips. “Spent the entire week thinking about fucking you. Gonna lay on your side for me, pretty? Hm? Gonna do it just how I like it?” 
Too much, too much, too much. You don't think you're really moaning anymore, but you're sure your mouth's been hanging open for a while. Minho’s hips are slow as he hits the deepest parts of you, holding your squirming body for a few seconds each time he bottoms out. The sweet, lazy drag of his cock inside you make your lust disable all of your senses. He felt heavy, thick, so deep inside you. Full. You felt so, so full.  
Somewhere in the haze you feel his palms making their way towards your chest, you process a bit of squirming as he squeezes them, massaging your breasts as he continued his torturously slow assault on your g-spot. 
Minho can feel every cell fighting against his urge to mount and pump into you as fast as he pleases, but he'd endure anything if it means he gets to hear your drawn out whines as he rocks his hips back and forth, your entire body shivering every time he pauses deep inside of you for a few moments.
He runs his hand through the goosebumps of your arms and back to your chest again. After feeling you up a bit more, your boyfriend takes your hand and drags it south as he presses on your lower stomach, making you feel him moving inside you. 
“You're feeling how good I fill you up, honey? Can you feel it?” His breathing is much more ragged now, Minho's body is visibly shuddering behind you as well. You squeeze around and him, bringing his hips to a stop. 
You look back, staring at his open mouth as you inhale each other's heavy breaths. As if snapped out of a trance, Minho kisses you roughly. He swallows each of your moans when his hips start swaying back and forth again, still as slow and rough as he was.  
His hand leaves yours as he reaches for your chin, spit dribbling down your lips. 
“So fucked out you're drooling for me. God, you're so good, baby. You take it so good.” 
“Holy shit, Minho! So close, so close, so close-” Your voice is no longer a whisper as it's pitch gets higher, your orgasm dangling in front of you in a fever dream. You feel him everywhere and it's almost too much, but certainly not enough. You're so overstimulated you don't know what to focus on to reach your high—both your senses and judgment so clouded you can't muster the brainpower to figure out what you need. 
Luckily for you, Minho knows you like the back of his hand. “I love you. Love you so much.” 
You can't tell how long it lasts, you're barely able to process Minho coming inside you. You feel the ghost of his hands holding your hips still as he whimpers in your ear—the sound alone making you shiver all over again. Your body shakes in his hold, limbs giving out after a prolonged orgasm you're not used to experiencing.  
“Love you too… Love you so much…” The words mindlessly escape your lips as your head slowly sways, fingers twirling the ends of your splayed out hair. 
Your eyes are closed as he lays you on your back, adjusting the pillow under your head as he chuckles. “Love you too, pretty. Hang in there just a second.” 
You feel his hands caressing your body as he handles you, a sixth sense making you chuckle when you realize he spread your legs but didn't start cleaning you up. 
His hands run down your thighs, you can hear the smirk on his voice. “What's up?” 
“Stop staring.” You say, humming with your eyes still closed. 
“Don't wanna.” You feel his fingers sliding through your core. “Mouth wide open for me, baby. Come on.” 
You sigh when you get a taste of his coated fingers, lips wrapping around as your tongue licks in between them. You open your eyes to find him hovering above you, eyes fix in your mouth. 
The look you give Minho makes him dizzy—the way you stare up at him with your big doe eyes in such adoration while sucking cum off his fingers almost made his heart burst. He can feel how each beat of it belongs to you, his heartbeat chained to a rhythm that followed your own.  
Chest to chest, Minho watches as your eyes sparkle, your hand softly stroking the back of his head. A smile forms on your lips when you pop his fingers out of your mouth as you breathily mutter against them. “You know I'm gonna marry you someday, right?” 
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just-jordie-things · 2 months
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[part three] we weren't just friends - okkotsu yuuta
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word count: 10.2k warnings: smut! oral (f!receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex, size kink (i think? yuuta's packin) praise kink, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, baby, slut is mentioned) overstimulation, soft sex summary: our two idiots may not know how to express their feelings through words, but they sure know how to find creative loopholes to solve that issue! more info: college!au so aged up characters!! roommates!au, childhood friends to lovers, the way i actuallly wrote smut for once and it's still mega softness
part three: "wish you'd let me stay, i'm ready now" ___
It wasn’t pleasant to wake up with a pounding skull.
Luckily what woke (y/n) up first was the rapping of knuckles on the door, hitting so hard it shook on it’s hinges.  It was a brutal awakening, and once conscious she could still feel Mai’s rampant knocking in her head.  With a groan, she burrowed her face into her pillow, attempting to block out all sound completely.  Unfortunately, feathers and cotton weren't enough to do this.
“Could you stop with the banging?” A deep voice behind her groaned.  She weakly made a noise of agreement.  
The bed dipped and rose as the boy who’d shared it with her dragged himself out of his own comfortable bubble to go answer to the heavy knocking.
As he approached the door he could hear a faint, “Yuuta make her say sorry” whine from the lump of covers on his bed.  He chuckled to himself as he swung the door open and hurried out of the room so he could close it behind him again.
Mai, still donned in the skin tight slip dress she’d worn to the bar last night, gave him a lopsided grin as he pulled the door shut.
“Wasn’t trying to intrude on your first morning after,” She teased, and gave Yuuta no time to defend himself before continuing, “But Maki’s outside, so I’m heading out” 
Yuuta’s brow furrowed as he frowned at her.
“You could’ve texted me that,” He grumbled while she laughed and carried her purse and heels in one hand while traipsing her way to the door.  “You didn’t have to wake up the whole building with your loudness” 
“Apologies!” Mai giggled.  “I just wanted to make sure you two would hear me in there!” 
As she swings open the front door and wiggles her fingers back at him in a playful goodbye, she’s still giggling.  Even when the door shuts again, he swears he can hear her cackling as she leaves the building.
He huffs, drags his hand over his face, and goes back into his room.
(y/n’s) curled up in a ball in the middle of the mattress.  With the covers tangled around her so snug it’s hard to make out what’s her and what’s blanket.  He chuckles, and there’s a little movement in the heap as she lifts her head.
“Did she say sorry?” (y/n) mumbles.
She’s turned towards him, but her eyes are closed, pinched shut to make sure no light penetrates them and sets her already frying headache on fire.
“She did,” Yuuta hums, sitting on the edge of the mattress and pushing her forehead gently back into the pillow.  The force of his palm is tender, but he’s firm in guiding her back down.  “She went home.  Go back to sleep” He tells her softly.
(y/n) lazily swats his hand off of her head after she’s already laid back down.
“D’n’t tell me what to do” She grumbles into the pillow, already drifting back to sleep.
He chuckles at her, fixing up the blanket and tugging it to her chin.  Despite her trying to suppress it, a soft smile tugs on her lips at the sweet act.
“You tuckin’ me into bed, Yuu?” She teases tiredly.  He rolls his eyes affectionately.  The giggle she lets out is muffled by the pillow.
“Yeah yeah, get some sleep and I’ll make you eggs when you’re up,” He tells her, smirking before she gags in reaction.  “Extra runny” He adds when he gets up from the bed, and this time he’s greeted with a louder gag.
“I’ll get sick in your bed!” (y/n) threatens when he leaves.
To both of their relief, that doesn’t happen.
It takes a few hours before she feels steady enough on her feet to even get out of the bed.  But at some point it’s too uncomfortable to keep trying to sleep off the hangover, and she prays a shower will soothe some of the aches and pains.
Yuuta bids her a cheeky good afternoon when she shuffles from his bedroom into the bathroom at well-past three o’clock.  He’d been working on the final touches for his Econ essay at the kitchen table and was pleasantly surprised to see her up at all.  She shoots him a glare but her lips deceive her and tilt into a small smile.
He’s more surprised to hear the shower running, seeing as she’d dragged her feet across the carpet and he wasn’t sure how long she’d be upright for, but he’s glad that she’s at least trying to push herself into feeling better.  He doesn’t think anything more of it as he goes back to his work.
Fifteen minutes pass and he vaguely registers that the water has been shut off.  And then a few minutes after that, the door creaked open.
“Hey, Yuuta?” 
“Hm?” He hums in response, his fingers still gliding across his keyboard as he continues to work on his revisions.
“Would you make me those eggs now?”
He laughs, wrapping up a run on sentence that he’d probably go back to delete again later, before turning his head to give her a nod.
But he freezes and the color drains from his face as his eyes land on her.  Almost instantly they begin to sting, burning with the need to blink, but they remain wide open and focused.
She’s standing there with nothing but a towel wrapped around her, water still dripping off the ends of her hair and sliding across her skin until they disappeared under the towel.  
It was like someone took the dial on Yuuta’s senses and cranked it up until the knob broke off.
He was so obviously staring at her, his face awestruck as he gaped and his eyes dragged over her figure so slowly his lashes twitched.
His throat felt dry.  His palms felt itchy.  And when he finally met her gaze, she was raising a brow at him, expectantly.
Oh, right, she asked him a question.
“Yeah,” He said, turning his attention back to his computer so he could actually speak.  “I’ll make you some eggs” 
He’s quick to save his file and shut the laptop before standing from the table and heading to the kitchen.
“Thank you!” (y/n) calls, and shortly after he hears her door shutting and he can’t help but let out a long exhale.
As he gathers the eggs from the fridge and the pan from the cupboard, Yuuta tries to push the image far from his mind.  But after their conversation last night and the incident from the night prior, he wonders if this is just his life now.
If he was the one destined to deal with having a hot roommate that he’d been falling for ever since they’d met in grade school.  Maybe this was his torture, only brought on by himself the longer he bottled up his true feelings and pushed them deep, deep down.  
This is what he deserved, he supposed.  After spending years tripping over his words and his feet when it came to her.  Years of struggling to keep his face from flushing when she looked at him, or trying to discreetly look at her when she didn’t notice.  Years of trying to forget about the lingering buzz in his chest and haze in his brain left by her, all for the sake of trying to cling onto a friendship which paled in comparison to the ways he truly felt about her- but could never admit to.
With a skilled hand he cracked an egg over the pan and tossed the shell blindly towards the sink.  It sizzled and popped as it began to cook, but even as Yuuta prodded it about the pan, his mind was far from focused on cooking.
Because now he wasn’t so sure if things were as one-sided as he previously thought.
Drunkenly making out with your best friend-slash-roommate is one thing.  Maybe most would have pointed in his face and laughed for excusing such behavior, but he’d justified it as simple curiosity anyways.
But then she’d admitted to him that there were more times she thought about him in less-than-innocent-and-platonic-ways.  She’d told him herself about those times- most of which Yuuta had never even thought twice about before.  And then she even told him he was a good kisser! 
Which begged the question in the back of his mind- was she still thinking about him? 
“Shit” He hissed under his breath when he realized the egg was about to overcook past (y/n’s) liking, and rushed to slide a spatula underneath it and plate it up.
He tried to clear his mind as he cracked a second egg in the pan, wanting this one to be perfectly to her standards- not that she’d ever complain.
Just as he’s adding the second, better, egg to the plate, (y/n) pads back into the kitchen, a grin on her face as she takes the plate from him.
“Perfect, I’m starving” She cuts into the lesser-looking of the two and doesn’t comment on why it’s crispier around the edges, only smiles as she slides the fork out of her mouth.
Yuuta chuckles.  All that anxiety over an egg, and she didn’t even seem to notice.  Maybe all of this stuff had wormed too deep in his head.  Maybe he should relax.
“I’m done with my essay,” He lies, knowing fully well that if he turned it in at it’s current state, it wouldn’t get a passing mark.  “Watch a movie with me?”
(y/n) smiles and nods, still picking at her eggs as she makes her way to the sofa, putting him in charge of the remote and deciding on what to watch.  Yuuta sits at what he deems a safe distance away from her.  Completely on a separate cushion, and when he rests his arm along the back of the couch, he’s careful not to rest it too close to her.
He might still be overthinking everything.
But as the movie starts and (y/n) finishes her four o’clock breakfast, he slowly finds himself relaxing.  His muscles feel less tense, his mind stops whirring, and for a good twenty minutes or so, he could almost pretend nothing had ever happened, and things were perfectly the same.
And then (y/n) pulls her legs up onto the couch and wiggles closer to him, until she’s tucked under his arm.  He must’ve made a face, because when she looks up at him, she gives him a sheepish smile.
“What? ‘m cold,” She says, shifting closer to him still.  “Does this bother you?” 
“N-no!” He laughs in embarrassment when he stammers out the answer, and (y/n) chuckles back at him, before turning her attention back to the screen.
“Okay, good,” She hums, leaning her head back against his bicep.  His entire arm tenses, and he’s overthinking again.  “I don’t want things to be weird forever” She admits quietly.
“Don’t worry, s’not weird” Yuuta mumbles back.
She turns her head against his arm, looking up at him with a small frown.  He winces, and feels guilty for lying to her.
“Yuuta, I’ve known you for a long time,” She says, her voice barely above a whisper.  “I think I can tell when you’re lying” 
His wince turns into a miniature smile before he huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose.  
“Touche,” He mumbles, and the corners of her lips quirk upwards.  “Is… is there something I can do to make it less weird?” 
Her brows pinch together, signifying that she didn’t think the solution was that easy.  It wasn’t a change in habits, or a lengthy conversation at the kitchen table.  It was messy, it was raw, and it was currently being held up by a lump in her throat and an irregular heartbeat in her chest.
“I don’t think so,” She murmurs with a sigh.  “What about me?” She turns the question onto him.  “Is there anything I can do?” 
He shakes his head in a small motion back at her, his eyes flickering between hers with enough attention that he catches the way they gloom with sadness.  Yuuta frowns, and before he can think about potentially making things worse, his palm cups her cheek, worry taking over his features.
“Don’t be hard on yourself,” He instructs, as though he were capable of reading her mind.  “You didn’t do anything wrong” 
“I know- I know, you keep saying that, but I…” Her voice is strained, her throat is burning, and she blames the lingering hangover for the swell in her emotions.  
But she knows that’s not the source.  She knows that the last few months- no- the last few years of gathering feelings for Yuuta are catching up to her, and their drunken little experiment on this very couch was just the tipping point she needed to solidify what those feelings really meant.
Yuuta’s thumb sweeps gently over her cheekbone, his touch was light but the warmth of his skin lingered there.  She found herself leaning further into it, despite her better judgment.
Reason tells her to get a grip.  It tells her to pack up the hormones and move on.  It tells her to go back to the bar until she finds someone to get under just to get over Yuuta, or maybe even text that stuck up asshole that Maki warned her about.  Anything it would take to move past this pebble in the grand scheme of her friendship with Yuuta.  Reason tells her it was one night, and she can’t let one night ruin years of a special bond.
Her heart begs to differ.  It cries, it pleads, it mourns the idea of not being truthful with him.  Her heart weeps with the outpour of love and desire, after spending so long wondering what something more with Yuuta would look like, only to have a small taste, a sample, really.  It was killing her, the thought of never having him fully, the thought that they’d go back to their friendship, more awkward than ever.
Currently, Yuuta wishes he could get a glimpse inside of her mind, because he could practically feel her inner turmoil happening before him.  Her lips were sealed shut, but her thoughts were screaming behind her eyes.  His brows draw together in obvious concern, and when she finally moves, it’s not to speak.
She’s pulled away from him and off the couch in a flurry of anxious movements.  Yuuta barely registers that she’s grabbed her empty plate and fork and is hurrying into the kitchen.  He blinks in a daze, before getting up and following her to the sink where she’s rinsing off the dirty dishes.
“I’m sorry, I-” She’s still stammering, despite trying to clear her mind and focus on communicating what felt the most important.  That she wasn’t upset, that he didn’t do anything wrong, and that she was the only one to blame for all of this.  
But that’s not what comes out.
“I just didn’t really see any of this going this way, you know?” 
She’s speaking more clearly, but her voice is still a shaky whisper, afraid of not being able to take the words back.  Yuuta’s waiting patiently, leaning against the kitchen counter while accidentally staring daggers at her back.  She knows he’s just focused, but the heaviness of his gaze adds pounds of pressure to her shoulders.
“I know,” Yuuta tries to keep his voice calm, hoping to ease her anxiety by remaining collected.  Even though a fiery mess of words were clawing up his throat and threatening to come out in a humiliating act of word vomit.  “But, (y/n/n), I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me all the time” 
She looks at him then, her eyes glossy with tears that she was trying to keep from falling.
“Yuuta, I don’t feel uncomfortable around you,” She says softly.  Her hands tangle together nervously as she turns around to face him properly.  They still wring together as she leans back against the sink and tries to find the words to explain her messy thoughts.  “You didn’t do anything wrong” 
He tilts his head at her, brows pinching in concern.  “You didn’t do anything wrong, either” He reminds her for the second time today.
“I know, but-” 
“I’m serious, (y/n),” He steps forward and crosses his arms over his chest, silently begging her not to look away from him so that she’d know he meant every word of it.  “Whatever we- whatever I have to do to help you, just, forget what happened, you need to tell me,” He pleads.  “I don’t care what it is, I don’t care if it’s ridiculous,” He’s shaking his head as he speaks, a nasty feeling of guilt building up in his stomach that he decides to push past for the greater good of not losing her.  “I don’t care, okay?” He lowers his voice.  “If you want the place to yourself for a while-” 
“No!” 
She shoots forward then, her hands latching onto his forearm as if he were about to abandon her then and there, as if she alone was strong enough to hold him in place if he tried.  Her eyes are wide with panic, and in the heat of the moment a tear tracked down her cheek.  She’s just as quick to let him go and roughly wipe away the wet streak with the back of her hand.
“I don’t want that, don’t- don’t do that,” She mumbles after collecting herself a little better. 
Yuuta eyes her hands, no longer tangled together in a tight ball of white knuckles.  They’re still strained, stretched out in front of her like she had a fresh coat of polish on them.  If he looked close enough, he could see them trembling.  He starts to uncross his arms, wanting to take hold of them and talk her down from this stressful moment.  He wants to remind her that no matter what’s happened, he’s there for her because he cares about her.  But just as he’s about to reach for her, she’s speaking again.
“I think I just wanted that to happen for a really long time,” She sighs, one of her hands darting through her hair to pull the overstimulating loose strands away from her face.  “And I… I guess I wasn’t expecting it to be like- like that,” 
Yuuta’s completely frozen before her, not having expected that of all the admissions she could’ve made.  Mentally he’d been packing his things.  Now he felt like he had whiplash and needed a good five seconds to do a full reset on reality.
“And that’s not fair I know I- I initiated the whole thing and I should’ve never listened to the Zen’ins it was stupid but I just thought maybe if it was a fleeting thing I’d get over you and things would be normal but I’m not and things aren’t normal and I feel so-!” 
“You were trying to get over me?” 
Yuuta’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.  In fact the forgotten movie playing in the living room had a clearer volume than him.  But somehow (y/n’s) frantic rambling ceased, and a silence settled between them.
He’s waiting for her to confirm that he’d heard her correctly, even though her exact words were still spiraling around in his head on a vicious loop.  While she’s waiting for the floor to open up and swallow her whole for getting so worked up and letting her mouth run on autopilot.
“(y/n),” Yuuta calls to her when she doesn’t speak, or even move, to acknowledge that she’d heard him.  
He knows she had, he knows she’s aware of exactly what she’d said.  He raises his eyebrows at her, wordlessly trying to get her to say something, anything.  She gapes at him like a fish out of water- thrown into a completely new element that she’s not equipped for, lost and afraid that she’ll suffocate to death.
“(y/n)” He says her name again, this time stepping forward.  He finally finds the courage to grab her tensed hands, and he wraps them in his and squeezes until he feels them relax.  A method that he’d used countless times before to calm her down- whether she was ranting about work or having a panic attack, it always did the trick.
Even now, her eyes soften a little bit as she stares at him worriedly, trying to figure out what he was thinking before he had the chance to voice it himself.  Her hands fall limp in his, and slowly, she presses her fingers into his palms.
“Yeah,” Her voice is hoarse, and her eyes lower from his, at first out of embarrassment, but then they land on his lips, pink and soft and parted in surprise, and her mind wanders off to recall just how sweetly he’d kissed her.  
For that first kiss, timid and new and exciting, he’d been so gentle.  If she thought about it, she could still feel the tingle of eagerness in her lips, and the warmth of his hand against her thigh.  Her eyes linger a little longer than they should have as she brought herself completely back to that moment. She wants to be sure that if he’d kissed her like that- passionately, desperately- that there must have been more behind it than simple drunken curiosity, right? 
“I- I was trying to get over you,” The rest of her answer has long since been delayed, but Yuuta doesn’t seem perplexed when her eyes flicker back up to his.  “It wasn’t just a kiss,” She continues, her fingers curling around his hands to ensure he felt every ounce of authenticity in her words.  “Not for me,” She shakes her head.  “I know I said that it was but I… I was lying.  It wasn’t.  I just… wanted to kiss you.  At least once, or, at least to be sure.  About my… feelings… anyways”
Yuuta blinked.  His expression had been shockingly blank, and it was starting to unsettle her.  She didn’t want to have to apologize or take any of it back, but the longer he silently stared at her, the more unease stirred in her stomach.
“I lied, too,” He tells her suddenly, and her lips twitch into a nervous smile.  A chuckle escapes him before he clarifies.  “It wasn’t just a kiss for me either.  Not even a little bit” 
He watches in real time as she reacts to his admission.  First her expression softens as her heart begins to melt for him.  Then her eyes lit up, brightening before him so brilliantly he couldn’t help but grin, just as she was doing now.
And then before he can tell her just exactly how it is he feels, she’s pulling her hands out of his, grabbing him by the shoulders and shooting up to the tips of her toes so she could reach him properly for a kiss.
He’s startled by the sudden act, but just as quickly has his hands wrapped around her waist and is reciprocating the kiss with fervor.
She’s instantly breathless, gasping for air between fast, heated kisses, but even when Yuuta tries to give her a minute to catch her breath, her lips are chasing his and she’s locking them together needily again.  Air could wait.
It only takes a miniscule shuffle backwards on her part for Yuuta’s hands to continue pushing her hips, guiding her to keep blindly tripping until her back hits the counter.  A small gasp at the sudden bump escaped her throat but she recovered in a moment's notice.
Just as Yuuta’s stooping lower to her height, his hands wandering down her waist and latching onto her thighs, her own grip tightens on his shoulders as she braces herself for him to lift her up.  A sweet, delighted little sound comes out of her when she’s placed on the counter and Yuuta’s slotting himself between her legs in one swift motion.  Their kisses barely cease as his hands are at the nape of her neck and in her hair as he skillfully tilts her head to deepen their kiss.
Her back arches and she leans forward off the counter until she’s pressed as close to him as she can get.  The bend of her knees are loosely hooked at his hips, and in small movements she tries to tighten their hold on him.  This proved to be difficult as the messier his kisses became, the weaker her knees grew.
Oxygen is gifted to her in abundance as Yuuta’s mouth trails along her jaw, swollen lips dragging over sensitive skin in between lazy kisses.  Her chest heaves as she pants, and Yuuta must have noticed because he chuckles into the junction of her jaw and neck.
“Why were you trying to get over me, pretty girl?” His lips tickle her neck as he speaks, punctuated with a sweet kiss followed by a filthier suckle of the alluring skin.  It has her hips squirming, which Yuuta notices as well, taking great haste to wrap his hands around the dips in her waist, keeping her still and firm against him.
“I-” She’s cut off by her own gasp as Yuuta returns to leaving a pretty mark on the side of her neck, just low enough that there was no hairstyle or collar that could possibly keep it hidden.  “I thought it was the right thing”
He lifts his head, finally meeting her gaze with hooded eyes and a lazy smirk that she can’t tear her eyes away from, even as he speaks.
“Right thing,” He repeats back with a chuckle that sets her body ablaze.  He leans towards her again, his nose prodding hers to the side until their lips brush as they speak.  “Baby, it’s an absolute shame that we weren’t doing this the whole time” 
Her hands are gripping at the material of his tee shirt so tight she’s convinced she could rip it right off his chest if she wanted to.  Her knuckles are white, and bound to start trembling soon, but she doesn’t care about looking foolishly desperate anymore.  Wanting him is the only thought occupying her mind.
Her lips are on his again in a heartbeat, and even though she’s kissing him and she’s the one trying to tug his shirt over his head, she whines in annoyance when Yuuta breaks the kiss to properly get the material out of the way.  He’s laughing again, mocking her for the pout on her lips before her hands are on him again and she’s sighing contentedly into his mouth.
And her hands are everywhere.  She’s touching him like she’s never felt human skin.  She touches him like she lost her sight and mapping out every inch of his body with her hands was the only way for her to know who it was before her.  Delicate fingertips trace along his collarbones, down his chest, along his abdomen, through the ridges of his abs, and then all over again.  At first it’s a precise dance, but it doesn’t take long for the movements to get sloppy, and the soft caresses turn into her grabbing and pawing at him.
“You c’n take mine off,” She tells him, voice low and strained against his lips.  His teeth sink into her bottom lip, only for a quick second out of pure impulsive desire, before his hands are sliding under her shirt and shoving the offending clothing up and over her head.  It’s dropped somewhere on the kitchen floor with his own forgotten shirt, and (y/n) grins at him as she loops her arms around his neck, fingers raking gently through the hair that hangs there.  “Eager, hm?” She giggles, and for a moment, she looks genuinely delighted, happy like she’d just been told good news.
The look softens and melts into something completely different when he responds.
“Well, ‘ve wanted you since high school” His voice growing huskier than she was used to, and when he catches her lips in a deep kiss, slower and more sensual than the ones before, desire pools in her stomach and she buries her hands further into his hair.
“H- high school?” She repeats back to him in a breathy moan.  Yuuta hums in confirmation, stealing another kiss.  “Why didn’t you-?” The question fails her while his hands roam over her hips, snaking their way up towards her bra.
“Didn’t think it was the right thing,” He chuckles as he uses her words against her.  She’d roll her eyes if they weren’t already in the back of her head from his fingers teasing her through the lacy cups of her bra.  “Pretty girl, getting all worked up over nothing,” He sighs, and she tilts her head forward to chase his lips, but he doesn’t grant her another kiss right away.  
One of his hands reaches for her face, cupping her cheek almost tenderly as he admires the dazed and needy look on her face.  Her blown pupils, swollen lips, heavy lashes- Yuuta always found her to be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, but having her in this state might take the cake.
“If only you’d known the way I thought about you then,” He admits.  Her eyes grow a little wider, curious, and excited.  “Fuck, I don’t think you’d’ve wanted to live with me” He mumbles, an amused smirk on his lips.
Tugging on the strands of his hair until his face is as close as she wanted him to be, (y/n’s) lips curl into an eager smile.
“Well, we’re here now,” She murmurs.  One of her hands travels down his neck and then the rest of his body, almost on it’s own accord, until her fingers prod and tuck into the waistband of his sweats.  Her eyes follow the bob of his adam’s apple when he swallows thickly, her smile only brightening.  “And this time there’s no one to interrupt us?” She tilts her head as she makes the quiet suggestion, and Yuuta’s smile begins to mirror her own.
“Oh, ‘s that so?” He asks, his hands scooping her up off the counter and lifting her into his chest with ease.  The quick movement makes her laugh, her arms winding around his neck, and her legs hooking over his hips.
She’s still grinning like an idiot when she leans down to kiss him again.  It’s messier than before, all teeth and breathless laughter, but the moment is so sweet, and it feels so good to kiss him properly- not on some silly whim, but for real- that she doesn’t care about it being sloppy.  His hands are secured tight under her legs, and when they part again, she raises an eyebrow at him.
“Would you like to take me right here or…?” She asks, her face undeniably flushing with pink at the forward question.  He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at their corners as he smiles back at her, giving her left leg a teasing squeeze.
“Take you, hm?” He mocks, before adjusting her against him, pulling her closer, holding her tighter, and her face grows hotter with embarrassment but she’s grinning from ear to ear nonetheless.
“Mhm” She nods, and is giggling quietly again as he begins to carry her with him out of the kitchen.
He wants to keep kissing her, but he can’t help but let his stare linger on her pretty features.  His heavy gaze has her flustering even more in his hold, only making him want to stare at her for longer.  It’s making him a bit clumsy, tripping over their shirts on the floor, knocking into the furniture on the way, tipping a chair over and wincing when it hits the ground, but not caring enough to go back and correct it.  They’re still laughing, noses brushing and quick kisses being stolen in between quiet giggles and hushed, teasing whispers.
“Don’t you dare drop me” 
“Before the chance to ‘take you’, pretty girl? Wouldn’t dream of it” 
She’s not sure of the room he’s brought them into until the door is kicked shut and she’s greeted with twinkly orange fairy lights and the lingering scent of incense and her favorite perfume.
Once the door is shut his lips are on hers again, so swollen they almost feel sore but he’d rather go numb than refrain from kissing her again.  He moves slowly, memorizing every dip and curve of her lips, every taste of her velvety mouth.
He’s even slow when he sets her down on the bed, and slow to let her go so she can shuffle back on the covers.  He pauses completely when she settles at her headboard, her thumbs sticking into the hem of the cotton shorts she’d been wearing, and pushing them down her legs.
She’s biting her lip to keep from smiling too hard when she drops them on the floor, her eyes never leaving his.
“Well are you getting in bed with me, or not?” 
He didn’t need to be asked twice, kneeling on the mattress and crawling over her until she was caged beneath him, hands settled at either side of her head to keep himself from putting too much weight on her.  Her eyes brighten from underneath him, and her hands wrap around the nape of his neck to pull him down to her lips.
“I’ve been wonderin’ about somethin’,” Yuuta hums, appreciating the purple love bite on her neck before deciding she could use some more.  His hands slide beneath her, unclasping her bra with ease before reaching for the straps on her shoulders and sliding them down her arms.  She hums in response, tilting her chin back as he continued to pepper kisses down her neck and across her chest.  “That night, when you hurried off to bed,” He reminds her, a large, calloused palm trailing from her side down to her hip, agonizingly slow.  His thumb stretches out to tease at the waistband of the baby blue panties she wore, admiring the lacy trim before flicking his gaze back up to hers.  “D’ya touch yourself?” 
A bashful giggle escapes her, her head tossing to the side in the hopes of hiding her embarrassment in her pillow.  Her reaction was answer enough, and enough to make the corner of Yuuta’s lips twitch in a lazy smirk, but he still wanted a better response than that.
“C’mon, pretty girl.  Gotta have an answer, I’m afraid,” There’s a teasing lilt in his voice that’s melting her like putty in his hands.  
He gives her the benefit of easing up on the heavy gaze, dropping his head to plant kisses down her chest, through the valley of her breasts, before exploring over to the perky nipple.  He rolls his tongue lazily over the hardened bud, before wrapping his teeth and lips around it and giving it a small tug, just as his hand groped at her other breast with a gentle, experimental squeeze.  She squirmed beneath him, longing for more.  He smirks as he releases her nipple with a pop of his lips, just as his fingers pinch the other one, tweaking it and watching as her face screws up and a long whine is evoked from her. His hands knead selfishly at her breasts a bit more as his lips travel down her chest excitedly, only slowing down once he’d crawled down enough to reach her navel.  
“You been worked up since then, baby?” He murmurs so sweetly that she whines.  He drags one of his hands down to rest across the lowest part of her tummy.  It splayed out far enough to grip at the plush of her thigh, and still trail his thumb over the lacy hem of the last of her garments.  She raises her hips for him, desperate to feel just a little more friction from his hands.
And then she nods, shaky and fast, and her hand wraps around his wrist, tugging needily, but he keeps his hold firm on her hip, squeezing a little tighter.
Yuuta grins as she whines in irritation, his eyes flickering down to the wet patch on her panties, and then back up to her pouting face.
“Y’look so pretty when you’re needy like this,” He sighs, before settling down on the mattress completely.  Using his hand on her hip he tossed her leg over his shoulder with ease, his other hand wrapped under her thigh, holding it just right so she’d keep them open for him.  “You don’t know how long I thought about this pretty girl, ‘bout you” 
With his free hand, he ghosted his thumb over her panties, just barely hovering over where she craved the friction the most.  This elicited another whine.
“Yuuta,” She huffed, one of her hands fisting the sheets beneath her tightly as a means to let out the pent up frustration he was putting her through.  “Please, touch me, please” 
He hums, and hooks his thumb through the crotch of her panties, tugging the material to the side to give him a better view of the sticky mess she was making.  He couldn’t help but groan as he dragged the fat pad of his thumb from her soaked hole up to the hood over her clit, dragging it back painfully slow.  Her breaths grew even more labored, and Yuuta gave into her pleas as soon as her puffy clit was exposed.
“I like when you say please” He murmurs, breath cool over her slick heat.
He didn’t give her a chance to say anything else before he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, giving it a languid roll of his tongue.  Her hips stuttered and he quickly found he’d have to hold on a little tighter to keep her legs nice and spread for him.  
A few more slow licks and she was moaning for him.  Her head tossed back into her pillows, her back arched and hips raised for him while she whimpered and whined sweet noises for him.  Every little sound spurred him on further, earning her an eager suck at her throbbing clit.
She got more vocal as his finger circled her needy hole, clenching around nothing as he ghosted around the outside, feeling more wetness spill out the longer he teased her.  Yuuta had to press his own hips hard into the mattress just to ease the mind-consuming hardness in his pants.
When he teases the tip of his finger inside, feeling her tight, warm walls practically suck him in, he groans into her pussy, and that was all the more she needed to get louder, and a little more confident about asking for what she wanted.
“Yes, yes, Yuuta, please, put it in, put it in” She’s babbling, carried away by her own building desire, and shamelessly rutting her hips to try and get him to press his thick finger in further.  
He hums, sending another jolt through her core as his lips are still wrapped around her clit, and she’s chanting again.
“Please, p- please, please~” Over and over like a mantra, each strained whimper more enticing to him than the last.  Until eventually he grants her wish, and curls his finger the rest of the way inside, moving at a slow pace.
It doesn’t take him long to find the spongy spot when he curls his finger just right inside of her that makes her chant his name with so much praise he worries he could cum in his pants just listening to her.
“Gonna-!” She’s cut off by a sharp breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly as his tongue rolls viciously over her overstimulated clit while he plunges a second finger to pump in and out of her.  “Yuu-ta-! I’m gonna-! You’re gonna make me-!” 
“C’mon pretty girl,” He mutters into her pussy, giving her clit a harsh suck in between.  “You can do it, cum for me baby” 
The hot, tightening cord in her core finally snaps, washing heat and pleasure over her body in waves so strong she’s tearing up as she cries out his name and clamps down on his fingers, still pumping in and out of her as more sticky cream coats them.  He’s grinning at the sight of her shaking legs and screwed up face that relaxes as the sudden climax wears off into a dazed high.  He sits up on his knees with a chuckle, sliding his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean almost dramatically before her.
Her eyelids feel heavy as she gazes up at him in all of his glory.  His lips and chin are slick with her juices, his pupils are blown wide and his hair hangs in front of his face, a few strands getting stuck to his forehead.  But he quickly rakes a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face before he’s lowering himself over her again, kissing either of her hips before working his way up her body.
“Did so good f’me, baby,” He praises as his lips reach the top of her breasts, mouthing at the soft flesh before continuing on to her marked up collarbones.  “So perfect, so sexy when you cum,” He continues to babble out praise while she whimpers and wiggles beneath him, already seeking out more friction.  “Wanna make you do it again” 
Her hands trail down his abdomen, fingernails dragging just slightly over his skin, until they reach the waistband of his sweatpants.
“Then take these off” The demand comes out as more of a whine than she means it to, and she pouts when he chuckles at her.
“Eager, hm?” He teases.
“Stop using my words against me” She huffs, and one of Yuuta’s hands is enough to replace both of hers, giving his pants and boxers a swift tug that pushes them to his thighs, before he peels them the rest of the way off.
“Make me” 
He grins at her, but her teasing mood melts away as soon as he’s completely naked on top of her and she watches his erect dick spring out from the confines of his clothes, tapping against his abs.  She knows she’s staring too hard, but she can’t help it.  It was her first time seeing her best friend’s dick.  And she had no idea he was so… big.
She’d never had much trouble with the couple of guys she’d slept with before, and they hadn’t exactly had small dicks, but looking at him now, she wasn’t sure he’d even fit in there.
“You never told me you had a big dick” She mumbles, shyly meeting his gaze.  Yuuta tries to stifle his laughter, but her eyes are so wide and full of wonder that he can’t help but chuckle a bit at her reaction.
“It’s not exactly something- fuck-” 
He’s cut off when her hand tentatively reaches between them, wrapping around the thick base and giving him an experimental pump before sliding her thumb over the swollen pink tip, gathering the precum leaking out of it and spreading it down the rest of his length.  Yuuta shudders out a breath, his eyes falling shut as he tries to compose himself, she’d barely touched him and his fist was clenched in the sheets.
“Not exactly something friends t- talk about” He stammers as she pumps him again, a small smile growing on her face as she watches his composure crumple as he gives into the pleasure.
“Well maybe you should’ve,” She murmurs, widening her legs as she guides him closer to her.  “We probably would’ve fucked a long, long time ago” 
It’s by far not the crudest thing said today, but it’s enough for him to take her hand and push it into the pillow beside her head.  During the action his eyes catch the silver chain daintily clasped around her wrist, little star and moon charms clinking together.  His eyes gloss over with an emotion (y/n’s) never noticed on him before, but she doesn’t get the chance to question him about it before his free hand taking his cock and rubbing the fat head through her wet folds.  They both whine at the pleasurable friction.
“Fuck, baby,” Yuuta sighs as he lets his hips roll over hers a few more times.  If she felt this good just like this he wasn’t sure he’d make it long once he was inside.  Nonetheless, he’s eager to line himself up at her entrance.  “Ready f’me?” He asks, his eyes meeting hers, and she nods up at him breathlessly.
She might be lying, because truthfully as soon as he pushes the tip in, she gasps and fights the urge to wince at the pain of being split open so wide.  This was certainly the biggest dick she's ever taken, and he wasn’t even halfway in yet.  But the more he pushes in, the more the sharp pain turns to pleasure of being so filled up.
“Aah- Yuu-” She cries out, her nails scratching up his back a little harder than she intended.  He hissed at the feeling but made no move to keep her from doing it.  “Too- ‘s too big,” She whines just as he bottoms out.  “Won’t fit- won’t-” 
“Shh, no, baby, look,” He coos, his hand cupping her face sweetly before he presses a kiss to her lips and nods down to where he’s completely sheathed inside of her.  “It’s all in, you’re takin’ me so well, see?” He muses, giving her a small rock of her hips that has her whining again.  “Can I keep goin’?” His thumb strokes over her cheekbone, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen there.
She gives him a shaky nod, before sighing loudly.
“Yes, please,” She hums, and when he pulls out most of the way and slowly sinks back in, her nails are dragging over his back again, clinging tight to his broad shoulders in between scratches.
He groans every time he buries himself inside of her, picking up more of a pace with every thrust, and making sure to praise her as soon as he catches his breath and is able to do so.
“Feel’so good, baby, takin’ it so good” He grunts as his hips slam into hers with a little more force than before, earning a high pitched moan of pleasure out of her, followed by a tighter grip on his shoulders.  Yuuta hums appreciatively and repeats the action until she’s letting out nonstop strings of breathy moans and broken syllables that don’t quite make words.
“Does- ah! Feels- feels good,” She stammers out, rocking her hips in time with him and crying out when his tip hits that spot inside of her that makes a familiar knot twist in her stomach.  “So good, Yuuta, right- right there-!” 
“Here?” He rasps, his hands pulling her hips upwards for a better angle, and he’s rewarded with a yelp of surprise as her back arches further to meet his thrusts.
“Uh- uh-huh” (y/n) whines back at him as he picks up a faster pace.
Just as she’s about to warn him that she can feel her orgasm coming on, one of his hands slides across her hip until his thumb finds her clit, rubbing messy circles into it until she’s crying out his name like he’d show her mercy.
“Gettin’ so tight, baby, you gonna cum?” A fucked out grin takes over his face as he rubs harsher over the bundle of nerves.  (y/n’s) jaw trembles as she gasps and moans.  He groans as her walls flutter around him, getting tighter and wetter by the second.  She was about to snap, if it wasn’t obvious in the way she whimpered and cried out his name, he could feel it coming on.  “Be a good girl and cum all over my cock, hm?” 
The wave of her second orgasm is more powerful than the first, her entire bod shuddering as Yuuta continues to fuck her through it, watching a ring of cream form around his dick.  She’s still whimpering and babbling out nonsense while he’s fucking her, delighting in the hot wetness that of her post-orgasm pussy.  The praise falls from his lips before he can think about what he’s saying at all.
“Fuck, baby, you jus’ got so much wetter f’me” His head falls to the crook of her neck, kissing and sucking at any skin he can reach while his lips relentlessly pound into her.
“All f’you,” She mumbles back uselessly, feeling overstimulated in the most deliciously mind-numbing way.  “Jus’ f’you, only you” 
He nips teasingly at her throat before kissing the spot sweetly.
“That’s right, pretty girl, all mine now, yeah?” He groans, and she nods weakly back at him, teary eyes struggling to meet his as that coil in her core starts wrapping up tight again.
“Mhm” Is all she can manage for an answer.
“That’s it, baby,” Yuuta praises through a deep groan.  “Y’gonna cum again, aren’t you?” She can’t possibly work up the energy to respond, only whining and trembling beneath him like a slut.  His pretty n’ perfect little slut.  “Fuck, love your pussy s’much, wanna fuck y’like this all the time now, love f’cking you, love you s’much” 
With the mindless praise comes a confession that was less than meaningless, and suddenly (y/n’s) eyes are wide and his hips are stuttering and the heat of the room begins to make them sweat more than the strenuous cardio.
Yuuta opens his mouth, about to say something, maybe take it back, or explain that he didn’t mean it the way it sounded, but (y/n) beats him to it, and she cuts through the bullshit before he can even start.
“You meant that,” Her voice is soft and gentle as she stares up at him with wide eyes.  Her pupils are still taking up most of her pretty eyes, flickering over his shocked expression with a curious glint.  “Didn’t you?”
The rest of the question comes out in a barely-there whisper, but he watches the movement of her lips, perfectly catching what she was saying.
“(y/n/n), look, I-” 
“I love you,” She murmurs out before he can come up with a way to explain himself.  Her hands are shaky as she reaches for his face, sliding them around his jaw and pulling him down close to her, whimpering in the slightest when the movement has his cock sliding along her walls just right.
There’s tears in her eyes as she stares up at him with nothing but genuine emotion.  Her lips tremble as they curl into a small and her gaze flickers between his eyes adoringly.
“I do, I love you,” She says it again, smiling even wider as the sweet confession tumbles past her lips.  “I love you so much, Yuuta- I- I love you so much it’s been driving me crazy” She lets out a breathless laugh before pressing a quick peck to his lips.
His eyes are wide and so focused on her he barely registers her small kiss.
He blinks, trying to clear his mind, trying to focus properly on what she’s telling him.
“I did mean it,” He forces out, lips brushing hers as he mumbles the admission.  “I do, love you.  I love you- I’ve always loved you, it’s always been you, baby, always,” The block in his throat is quickly removed as the babbling resumes, as does the gentle rocking of his hips.
(y/n) can’t recall a time she’d ever had sweet sex with anyone- she can’t recall a time she’d ever craved sweet sex with someone.  But something about being underneath Yuuta, having him fuck her softly while he goes on about how much he loves her, has her breath getting caught in her throat and tears of joy and pleasure sliding down her cheeks.  He kisses them away between whispered confessions and promises.
“Loved you f’ so long,” He murmurs against her cheek, before leaning down to capture her lips in a sweet kiss, only to be cut off when she gasps, a third orgasm reaching it’s climax.  “Love you always, love you s’much, want you to cum f’me again, baby, m’kay?”
With a weak nod, she drops one of her hands to reach down and circle her clit.  It’s so sensitive she cries out right away, and Yuuta groans as her walls spasm around his cock.
“That’s it, baby, that’s it, good girl,” He praises, rutting into her a little harder.  “Want you to cum with me” He instructs, and she nods again, whimpering and crying in agreement.
“‘m gonna- oh, Yuuta, ‘m gonna-!” 
She can’t finish her words, but she clenches down around him and that’s the final straw Yuuta needed to cum, thick hot ropes coating her walls with a deep groan, simultaneously pushing her over the edge with him as she tightens around him and cums again, breathy moans leaving her in pants as all of her muscles spasm.
Yuuta drops his forearm to the mattress, his hand pushing some of her hair away from her face before tracing gently over her cheek.  Her eyes were still shut, lips parted as she came down from her high and tried to catch her breath.  They’re both hot and sticky with sweat and various other juices ruining the sheets, but right now neither of them care in the slightest.
He just wants to stay here for as long as possible and enjoy how pretty she looks underneath him.
“I can feel you staring” She mumbles, peeking an eye open to catch him in the act.  He chuckles at her, pressing his hand against her cheek, heart fluttering when she pushes her face further into the warmth, despite being hot and sweaty, his heat was comforting.
“Can’t help it,” He murmurs back, pecking his lips to the tip of her nose.  “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” He praises.  “Even prettier naked.  And under me.  Bonus points” 
Now she’s the one to giggle quietly, her eyes crinkling and her cheeks flushing with color.
“Be right back,” He hums, kissing her nose again before climbing off the bed, grabbing his sweats from the floor and pulling them on with tired movements before leaving the room.
He must not have been gone long, because when he’s back (y/n) feels like it still wasn’t enough time to catch her breath.  But she smiles when she sees he’s brought a glass of water and a damp rag.
He hands her the water before he slides her legs open to gently clean up the sticky mess they’d both made.  He does his best to be careful, knowing she was overly sensitive.  When he’s done he tosses the rag into his laundry bin and turns back to her with a smile.
“C’mon,” He hums, sliding his hands around her hips.  “Let’s get you into clean clothes, too” 
She sits up with his help, and he leaves the bed in search of clean panties and a cozy set of pajamas.  She gets dressed with his help too, although she insists she could’ve done it herself.
“Thank you,” She hums once she’s in clean clothes.  “I’ll have to wash my sheets-” 
“We can do it tomorrow,” Yuuta hums, scooping her up from the bed with a grin.  (y/n) smiles as she leans her head against his shoulder, not even bothering to tease him for needlessly carrying her from her room to his.  “I just want to spend the rest of tonight with you” 
“M’kay” She murmurs sleepily, and thanks him again when they’re in his room and he’s laying her down in his sheets.
As soon as he’s settled into his side she wiggles closer, pressing him onto his back so that she can lay on top of his warm chest, humming contentedly like a cat in a patch of sunshine once her leg is thrown over his and his hand cradles the back of her head.
Yuuta pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a few moments longer than necessary, hoping he could convey every last feeling he held for her through the simple affection.
“I love you, (y/n)” He murmurs softly.
Lazily, her hand reaches around until she finds his, fingers pushing his palm open and sliding across it until she slots them between his.  He curls his fingers over her hand, squeezing gently, before letting his thumb trace along hers mindlessly.
She tilts her head until her chin rests on his chest, just close enough to look at him properly without being uncomfortable.  A soft smile curls on her lips, which he quickly mirrors.
“I love you, Yuuta,” She whispers back, before sliding up closer to him, propping herself up on a shaky elbow, her fingers also trembling as they touch softly against his chin, and then his lips, tracing the curve of his smile, pressing into the plush of his bottom lip, all the while watching with eyes holding nothing short of pure adoration.  “A lot,” She adds almost as an afterthought, before leaning downwards, pausing just short of his lips.  “Thank you for not letting me slip away,” She tells him, staring so deep into the dark oceans of his eyes that she wonders if she could drown in them.  “Thank you for not letting me go” 
His smile softens, and the hand that he had tangled in her hair slides to the nape of her neck, before reaching for her cheek.
“Me? Let you go?” He chuckles warmly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiles at her.  He guides her face closer to his.  “Never,” He mumbles, before sealing their lips together in a long, gentle kiss.  When they part, he holds her close so their foreheads touch, gazing up at her fondly.  “You’re my moon and stars, pretty girl” 
A flash of recognition lights up in her eyes, and her heart melts just a little more for him.
“Is that so?” She teases, but her words are faint, whispered against his lips with barely any volume behind them.  He smiles, brushing his nose over hers playfully.
“Mhm,” He hums.  “Always have been” 
“Then I guess that makes you…” She trails off thoughtfully, before her eyes light up and she looks down at him again.  “The sun,” She murmurs.
Yuuta laughs, his brows furrowing together in disbelief and humor.
“Don’t laugh,” (y/n) pouts.  “I mean it.  You are the sun.  My sun” She adds the last part bashfully.
“I think that’s the afterglow talking” He teases with a chuckle, dropping his head back into his pillow.  (y/n) grins, wiggling closer until she slid her body overtop of his, straddling one of his legs and beaming down at him when he wrapped his hands around her hips, slipping them under the tee shirt she had on.
“Maybe,” She drawled, both of them giggling quietly to themselves.  “But it’s true.  You’re bright, and warm…” She trails off, sliding her hands up his chest and giggling before cupping his face and leaning over to smile right at him.  “You shine and make my every day… better because of it” 
His lips part, taken aback by the sudden sweet words.  (y/n’s) cheeks are pink, but she doesn’t shy away from his gaze, only leans closer to brush her lips over his.
“Who knew you were a softie?” He hums, hooking a finger under her chin to keep her close.
“Well, like you said,” She furrows her brow in mock seriousness.  “Afterglow” 
He chuckles, shaking his head before pulling her chin downward so he could slant his lips over hers properly.
She melts down into him, the simple kiss turning into a lazy makeout session that only got messier and lazier the more she sunk into him.  He chuckles when her tongue glides across his bottom lip, breaking the kiss.
“I can feel you fallin’ asleep, baby” He teases, cupping her cheek and tucking her down into him, before grabbing his blanket and pulling it over them both.  (y/n) pouts.
“Wasn’t fallin’ asleep” She mutters back.  He hums in disbelief.
“S’ok.  There’s plenty of time for that tomorrow, yeah?” He asks, sliding his hand over her hip and caressing soothing circles into her skin.  “And the next day… and the next day…” 
She giggles quietly at him before giving in and settling comfortably against him.  He kisses her forehead once, twice, and then a third time just because.
“Alright, alright.  Want to go get breakfast tomorrow?” She asks before yawning, and only sinking deeper into the cozy warmth that was him afterwards.
“Askin’ me on a date?” Yuuta muses, but nods his head right away.  “I’m in” 
“Okay, then, it’s official” She mumbles, smiling into his neck.
“Official” He murmurs back, smiling stupidly to himself even long after she’s gone to sleep on top of him. ___
bonus:
[maki] : for the record, i told you boning was the way to go.
[mai] : don’t be gross. just be happy for them. [mai] : but. ya.  glad u boned ur way to happily ever after you cute n sexy bunnies!!!
[maki] : but what I said was gross?? blegh :p
[(y/n)] : ur both gross but i <3 you anyways [(y/n)] : besides, the stuff toge said to yuuta was waaaay weirder o_O ___
xoxo ~ jordie
460 notes · View notes
osaemu · 8 months
Text
JUJUTSU KAISEN: TRUTH OR DARE?
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.ೃ࿐ how does playing truth or dare with them go wrong?
characters: gojo, geto, toji
contents: fem!reader. gets pretty suggestive, cursing, alcohol, drunkenness, you wake up in geto's bed, minor argument with toji
author's note: ahhhhhh i don't rly like this one..
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★ ━ SATORU GOJO
"i dare you to kiss gojo!"
you scoff and shake your head, half-amused and half-exasperated. "very funny. give me a different dare."
you shouldn't be here — you should be back at home, studying for your test, but as usual, you ended up going to a party to "loosen up" instead.
unfortunately, you and your fun-loving friends had very different ideas of loosening up. your idea was grabbing a quick drink, maybe two. their idea was getting half the partygoers to sit in a circle and play truth or dare.
"really, i'm not gonna walk up to gojo and kiss him," you repeat, crossing your arms and forcing a scowl. "do i look like i wanna get publicly embarrassed?"
"wow, am i that bad?"
fuck. you whip around and find yourself looking up at satoru gojo, who has a lopsided smirk on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes. 
"i mean, i don't think i'm all that bad," he continues, squatting down to your eye level and grinning. "so, babe, how about that kiss?"
you scoot away from him and make a face. "i don't even know you."
gojo shrugs and leans in, puckering his lips and fluttering his long, white eyelashes. "even better!" he chirps, flicking his tongue at you teasingly. "c'mon, you can't say no to a dare!"
and thanks to him, everyone else in the circle starts chanting "do it, do it" like third graders. even as you insist that you really would rather not, the chants persist, until you finally grab gojo's chin and kiss him out of sheer frustration.
your lips don't linger on his for long, but pride holds you there for a second longer than you'd expected. gojo's lips are soft and minty, and maybe you imagined it, but you could swear you felt the slightest brush of his tongue against your lips. 
something about the way his lips melt into yours makes you wonder just how many girls he's kissed before you.
not that you care. after all, it was just a dare.
when you pull away, something in your chest relishes the surprise on gojo's face — it's not every day a random girl can make the satoru gojo blush.
that ended too soon.
resisting the temptation to lick your lips, you force a light smile and turn back to the circle. "who's next?"
gojo's mouth drops open. "what do you mean, who's next?? you–" he pauses. "oh, you mean next for truth or dare." his face goes a shade redder, and for the first time, you see him look mildly flustered.
as quickly as it happens, it disappears, and he grins. "i volunteer as tribute!"
you swallow a sigh and nod. "alright, truth or dare?"
"dare. always."
you're not sure where the sudden boldness comes from — all you know is that you just had the best kiss of your life, and it ended too soon.
"i dare you to kiss me again."
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★ ━ SUGURU GETO
"truth or dare, geto?" your friend asks mischievously, bright eyes focused on his bored face. "geto? hello?" she waves her hand in front of his face, smiling when a scowl appears.
"there you are," your friend says with a grin. "okay, truth or dare?"
geto's eyes narrow when your friend repeats her question, until geto finally sighs exasperatedly. "truth."
"boooring," you chime in, twirling a strand of hair around your finger and grinning when geto glares at you. "c'mon, is the big strong rich boy scared of a party game?" you coo, slurring your words and almost spilling the drink in your red plastic cup.
"fine, dare." he rolls his eyes and scoots over, reaching across the lopsided circle of half-drunk partygoers and swiping the cup of alcohol from your hand. "you're drunk as hell," he snaps when you whine a plea for him to give it back.
"loosen up a little, geto," your friend says lightly as she snatches your drink out of his hands and gives it back to you. "actually, y'know what? that's your dare."
"what's that s'posed to mean?" geto mutters, crossing his arms. 
your friend tilts her head in your direction, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "you can't guess?"
geto groans and curses as the rest of the circle ooohs. "i'm not fucking her, she's drunk," he scoffs, gesturing in your direction — in fact, you're so out of it that you haven't actually processed that he was getting dared to fuck you.
"what, you bad in bed or something?" someone calls, and with that, geto grits his teeth and slings you over his shoulder, ignoring the wolf-whistles from the crowd behind him.
. . .
the next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, accompanied by both a splitting headache and a sleeping geto.
and then you remember last night.
"what the fuck—" you yelp, pulling the covers over your shoulders and kicking geto's shin. after a moment, you realize that you're still in the clothes you wore to your friend's party last night, except a (significantly) oversized hoodie covers most of you. "geto! did we—"
geto mutters a curse and opens one eye, surveying you dryly. "morning, princess. had a good night?" he drawls, words dripping with sarcasm. 
"geto, answer the question."
he scoffs and closes his eye, pressing his face into his pillow and groaning. "no, you idiot."
"thank god," you mumble, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the stabbing pain in your skull. "wait, why am i here then?" you ask after a second, gesturing to his rumpled sheets.
"'cause i didn't wanna spend the night on the couch," geto mutters. "and if i didn't take you, someone else would've," he adds.
"oh. thanks," you reply, reaching up to run a hand through your hair. to your surprise, it isn't that tangled — that's a first. in fact, it even feels neatly brushed.
you run your fingers over the gray hoodie shielding your skin from the bare, cold air. it's awfully warm and unbearably comfortable.
"um, thanks for the hoodie too," you say, idly tugging at the corners of the sleeves. 
the only response you recieve is a grunt before geto rolls over, sheets sliding down his chest as he eyes you sleepily. "don't mention it. you were shivering."
as the sheets slide down his chest, you catch a glimpse of him shirtless, muscles tensed from the oddly cold air conditioning. his skin is smooth, and wow, his abs—
geto clears his throat, smirking when he catches you staring. "like what you see?" 
"shit, i—"
"save it, sweetheart," he says amusedly as he slides off the bed, and thankfully his chest is the only part of him that isn't covered by clothes. 
oh, you saved the image of geto shirtless. 
fuck, even days after geto ushered you out of his place with a warning about not everyone being as decent as him, you still thought about him. in bed. with you.
he was right about not everyone being as decent as him. in fact, you were included in everyone, considering the thoughts you had about geto in the days following your encounter were anything but decent.
suddenly, you found yourself wishing that geto hadn't been half as decent as he'd been.
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
"truth."
"god, you're so boring," someone in the crowd yells, although they quickly quiet when toji's sharp eyes look in their direction. 
before toji can make any number of threats to whoever clearly has a death wish, you grab his arm and shoot a glare at him. "toji, it's not worth it."
"no shit," he mutters, taking a sip of whatever's in his cup — presumably alcohol of some sort. "i'm not fuckin' stupid."
"really?" you mumble under your breath, ignoring toji when his sharp gaze turns on you. "hey, remember that time you almost beat up satoru because he–"
 toji cuts you off by roughly covering your mouth with his hand, leaning in slightly and scoffing. "you were sayin'?"
he turns back to the circle of onlookers and scowls. "so, how about that truth?"
one of the girls who spent half the night ogling toji clears her throat and bats her mascara-heavy eyelashes. "i have one! if you could fuck anyone here, who would it be?"
you internally roll your eyes at the way she purposefully makes her voice higher — like toji would fall for that.
you look over at toji, fully expecting him to be equally disinterested, but he has a half-smirk on his face as he checks the girl out. "you."
. . .
"why are you ignoring me?" 
you don't reply, instead fixing your eyes on your phone determinedly. since you two are neighbors, he's taken the liberty of dropping you home. toji only appears mildly inconvenienced by your silence — in fact, he only noticed when you didn't reply after he asked if you wanted to turn down the air conditioning.
after a couple more seconds of silence, toji exhales roughly and rests one of his arms on the side of the car window, green eyes focused on the road in front of the two of you.
"alright then," he mutters under his breath, sharply turning the wheel with his right hand and swerving to the side of the suburban road.
"what the hell—" 
toji's haphazard parking is crooked, but it's only a couple houses down from yours. if you wanted to, you could just leave, and the realization sinks in a second too late.
"listen, i don't need any of your petty sulkin' right now," he snaps, sharp eyes focused on yours. "just tell me what the fuck your problem is."
"why do you care?" you ask, biting the side of your cheek and looking away. the sun has long dropped below the horizon, and the sky is painted with every shade of navy on the spectrum.
the dim streetlight illuminates toji's face through the tinted car window, and his scowl deepens. "because y're gonna grump about whatever this is for days n' days, and it's no fun carpooling with a bitch."
you scoff and lean back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. "did you just call me a bitch?" you snap, glaring at toji irritably.
toji shrugs, raising his hands diplomatically. "i'm just sayin' that if this gets any worse, you're gonna get pretty close." he tilts his head slightly, studying your expression. "what're you even pissed about anyways?"
no reply.
"god, you're impossible," he grumbles, shaking his head. he sighs and leans over, and for a second some hopeless part of you thinks he's about to kiss you.
ha, you wish.
instead, his hand tightens around your seatbelt, and he looks down at your indignant face. "i'm not lettin' ya go until you tell me what i did."
. . .
ten minutes later, you and toji are still glaring at each other in silence. throughout the time you've known him, he's always been equally — if not more — stubborn, and frankly, you'd like to catch some sleep tonight.
wanting to get this over with so toji, you finally exhale a long, hard sigh and lower your gaze. "i'm just annoyed 'cause of the party," you mutter sulkily.
toji's narrows his eyes, and after a second, he raises an eyebrow. "is this about the girl i said i'd fuck?"
swallowing your pride is like swallowing poison, but you manage to choke out a "yeah." 
"i see." toji tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully. honestly, you expected him to more smug about you giving in first, but instead, he seems... you're not quite sure.
"well, i didn't think it through," toji says with a shrug. he leans back and shifts the gear into drive, eyes focused intently on the dark, rain-drenched road.
maybe you imagine it, but you could swear you hear toji mutter a "fuckin' idiot" to himself under his breath.
he glances over at you and scowls, but the edges of his lips are tilted upwards. "what're you smiling about?"
"nothing you need to know."
"hmph."
1K notes · View notes
partycatty · 2 months
Note
a depressed and drunk johnny cage in his trailer on his birthday and we decide to surprise him. Us being a good bestfriend bake him a cute little cake with happy birthday spelt out in frosting and get permission to go deliver it to him.
what’s he supposed to do when he’s drunk and a cute little thing like us does something so sweet? sure it’s his birthday, but he thinks you deserve a gift and he ends up fucking you in his trailer.
love ya 💙💙💙
ARF ARF BARK BARK GRRR WOOF
johnny cage > happy bithday
you surprise your best friend on his birthday. he returns the favor.
warnings: smut ofc, he's drunk (i knowwww he's a canon recovering alcoholic BEAR WITH MEEE) SUB JOHNNY NATION RISE UP !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i kinda made him beg like a dog icl so hes kinda ooc oops
notes: INTENTIONAL MISSPELT TITLE!!! and this fic kicked my ASS. it took me like a week to get the courage to finish this holy fucking shit.
word count: 2.8k
[ masterlist ]
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• you and johnny went far back. you had ties in the filming industry though you weren't on screen yourself. this drew you two together, even before you careers blossomed.
• you worked next door to his production, and you recall johnny expressing to you his annoyance for having to work on his birthday. he sounded... more miserable than usual, and it left a weird pit in your stomach.
• during your break, you ran into a nearby supermarket and purchased all the equipment you'd need: cake mix, frosting, sprinkles, and two numerical candles that spelled out 30. it took blood sweat in tears for you to bake this cake in record time, and decorating may have not been your strong suit but the purple frosting and gold lettering turned out... decent. hey, it's edible nonetheless!
• tip-toeing your way to his trailer, you were sure he had to be inside. you even double checked with his staff, and he was on an extended break while filming. standing at the door, you knock a couple times, and a stuffy, groaning voice responds.
• "m'busy," you know it's johnny's voice but it sounded far sadder than anticipated. hopefully the cake would cheer him up?
• you reply with his name through the crack in the door, and there's some shuffling before the door swings open. you don't even have time to wait or process the situation before johnny tugs you into his trailer by your arm. your face darkens slightly when you notice his flushed face and parted lips. his hair was messy, and the smell of alcohol poured from his mouth. the top few buttons of his dress shirt were undone, giving you a peek of his bare chest. any other situation, you'd be head over heels, but his appearance concerned you.
• "are you drunk?" you ask with a hint of bewilderment, and johnny can only wipe his eyes and nod weakly, giving you a lopsided grin that unfortunately makes you feel weak in the knees. you swore to god to never act on this little crush, since he was a celebrity and all, and you knew better than to put your genuinely good friendship at risk.
• "you made me a cake?" johnny's gentle, almost tearful voice tore away any anger that began to bubble up and replaced it with warmth. you nod and hold it out to him, and the faint candlelight flickers against his skin beautifully. he was so soft when he was drunk at times, and only you got to see this warmer side compared to his typical cocky ways.
• "it's... not my best work," you shrug sheepishly, looking down at the cake. when you look back up, you notice johnny's lashes are wet as they flutter, looking down at the cake with you. he sniffs, and wipes his eyes quickly.
• "you spelled it wrong." his smile doesn't falter but the tears threaten to spill.
• "what?"
• "doll... look," johnny's finger trails the iced words. "you forgot the R."
• oh, shit. you did. the cake reads HAPPY BITHDAY JOHNNY in the most confident gold lettering. the time crunch must've made your proofreading not too accurate. you blush and try to move the cake away from view, sliding it onto his vanity.
• as you were about to sputter useless apologies and try to move on, johnny takes a step closer and fully embraces your body in his large arms, his form completely overtaking yours and trapping you in his grasp. johnny's head buries itself in the crook of your neck as he squeezes tight, nearly knocking the wind out of you.
• on instinct, your arms try to wrap around his body, gripping his shirt tightly. johnny mutters something incoherent, his drunken ramblings a key trait of his state.
• "you're so sweet to me," he mumbles tearfully, peppering kisses along your neck. sure, he was affectionate typically, but he was kissing your neck. he was drunk, but... your heart fluttered.
• "hey, hey..." you rub his back soothingly, hoping maybe you could stop him from attacking your neck in hopes it'll cool your rising heat. "because you're my best friend."
• he whines into your neck, presumably in appreciation of your words. your neck begins to have a faint smell of alcohol.
• "such a sweet girl..." he doesn't stop. his hands wander to your lower back, pulling you in harder. this worries you, deeply.
• "johnny," your voice is warning as they find their place on his broad shoulders. "easy, easy, you're drunk."
• "whassat matter," he bites down into your flesh, making you yelp in shock. "mean so much to me."
• when his hands find their way to your ass, kneading at the flesh, you shove him away with furrowed brows. "you don't want this," you warn him, fighting every single urge to not pounce on him in that moment. "this is... really, really stupid, i mean, it's just a birthday-"
• johnny shuts you up quickly with a kiss, slamming his face against yours so hard you feel the clack of his teeth. his face cups yours, borderline squeezing your cheeks as his lips dance with yours. when he finally pulls away, a string of saliva connects your lips and it sends you weak in the knees.
• "doll," he huffs, wiping his mouth. "birthday or not, i've wanted you for so long." he's breathless and nearly incoherent, like this was his only shot at what he truly wanted. johnny was infamous for admitting shit when drunk, so you knew that this was true for the most part. this was only reinforced when he suddenly dropped to his knees, level with your stomach as he placed fluttering kisses along the front of your shirt.
• "please, i..." he pressed his face into the fabric, fists bunching up around the back. "i'll make you feel real good, if you let me..." his hand snakes under your shirt, rubbing circles in the flesh of your waist as he looks up with pleading eyes. your hand moves downward, raking gently through his hair.
• "you really want this?" you ask gently, toying with his hair. "no going back."
• his lips brush against your stomach as he teeters between kissing the skin and speaking against it. "i want you so bad, doll."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
• all it took was your permission, and johnny was on you in seconds. he backed you into his vanity, sending various items clattering to the ground. he fit so snug between your thighs, settling there to make out with you. perhaps he didn't even notice, but he was gently rutting into you as your lips connected, expelling desperate whimpers down your throat that only fueled your long-time desire. his cock could just barely make out the dip between your folds, but he pressed a little harder and made you gasp when your clit received unexpected attention.
• johnny pulls you in by the waistband of your pants, pressing your bodies impossibly closer as he panted in your ear. "let me taste you," he begged in a low whisper as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric. "i'll be good, i'll be so good."
• jesus, it seemed he wanted to eat you out more than you wanted to be eaten out. you'd never seen this flavor of eagerness in a man and it admittedly took you some strength to not giggle at how johnny fucking cage of all people became a lost, drunken puppy between your legs.
• "go on, pretty boy," you pant as your lips brush. the smell of alcohol brings you back to reality for only a moment.
• johnny decided that words took too much effort and instead dropped to his knees before you, shoulders holding up the weight of your plush thighs as he parted them hungrily to not waste a second more.
• the poor man forgets to even remove your pants before he's pressing his nose onto your heat, eyelashes fluttering as his heart swells with adoration. your scent, your heaving chest, your pretty thighs weighing his shoulders down, it was all too much. his pants feel a size too tight as his boner strains against his slacks.
• you get his brain going by jumping your hips up to get your pants past your ass, letting him pull them down the rest of the way. he throws them far, far away and latches himself again onto your pussy, now only divided by the fabric.
• "you were so eager before," you groan, thrusting forward slightly to put more pressure. "take them off."
• "no," he mutters against your panties, the vibrations making you jolt. "want this to last." his tongue flattens, drawing a long stripe up the fabric. when your panties stick to your pussy, it makes out the shape and he groans at the tease.
• "hold on," he places your thighs back down, trying to calm his breathing and flushed face. "i... i need this first. please." he unbuckles himself and pulls his slacks down to his thighs, giving you a view of his rock solid boner. it honestly looked painful, and you felt pity even if he looked adorable like this. his eyes were downward, fidgeting with his loose belt in shame. he chuckles breathily. "it's so hard, it hurts."
• "that's..." you struggle to find words when your mouth goes dry staring at his thick imprint. "that's alright." your voice was flat, trying to hide your desperation at his need to ask for permission. he didn't need to ask.
• johnny swallows thickly and lets his pants drop, followed by his boxers. his cock was blushed and seeping with precum, twitching once when he looked back up at you. he lets out a small moan, getting far ahead of himself as he positions his hips against yours. he gasps when the contact is made, stuttering his hips ever so slightly. johnny's hands find your thighs again, squeezing down hard to ground himself to not cum immediately. sober and platonic interactions were already far too much for his raging desire for you, so actually getting what he craved was beyond overstimulating.
• you were sick of waiting, so you snake your arms to rest atop his shoulders, hands raking through his undercut. you grip down slightly and he bites his lower lip in response, eyebrows knitting together as his wet eyes burn through yours. you glide your cunt along his throbbing dick and he jolts forward, resting his damp forehead against your shoulder.
• johnny understands you're just as eager as him and begins to thrust into your damp panties, but quickly decides it won't give him what he needs, so he hooks them with his thumb and stretches them aside. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes are glossed over and all he can fixate on is your pleasure.
• his tip notches between your folds and settles nicely, earning a hiss from the both of you from the warmth. johnny bucks forward eagerly, sliding himself up and down seamlessly due to how soaked you were. your folds hug his cock in just the right way, and you feel yourself already feeling heavenly every time your sensitive clit bumps against his tip.
• "fuck, doll," he hisses into the skin of your neck, placing open mouth kisses. "i want to last, you're - ngh - making it so hard... so hard..." he trails off, groaning when you slip and make his tip kiss the entrance of your cunt, making his knees buckle. "'m gonna cum just from this... god, you're so beautiful, beautiful girl-" his praises become increasingly more high pitched and you can tell by the way he begins to stutter his hips that he's close, unable to last long and it's driving him wild.
• johnny wasn't ever this needy, ever this pathetic. you reduced the cocky a-lister to a near-sobbing mess as he slips across your cunt, finding a momentum difficult from how slippery the entire scene has become. his cock is soaked, dripping down his leg due to your arousal.
• just as your orgasm builds up, as does his, johnny pulls away and lowers himself, gripping the flesh of your ass to pull your hips to his mouth. now thoroughly soaked and clenching around nothing, your cunt is desperate for a release that johnny happily provides, latching onto your clit, and shoving two fingers deep in your hole. he flattens his tongue, shaking his head slightly and flicking your clit relentlessly.
• your orgasm rides up on you rapidly, overwhelmed by the direct pleasure and how filled you were from two of his long fingers alone. wanting to lurch forward as your body trembles, johnny uses his other hand to sit flatly on your stomach, pushing you up against the mirror of the vanity and forcing you to take his lapping and fingering.
• johnny couldn't stand to have your pleasure soak his cock, shockingly. he needed, needed to taste the mess you were making for him or he just might die. you shake, trying to writhe and twitch as your orgasm fights you in waves. loud moans are pulled from your throat with each pulse of pleasure. your arousal soaks johnny's face, effectively soaking his nose and chin as he devours all you have to offer. he matched your moans with high-pitched whimpers, brows knitting together as his eyes clench shut. he was in heaven just as much as you were.
• he continues to lap at you until you force him away by his hair, his mouth becoming borderline painful as he eats you out through your orgasm. you giggle, as it slightly tickles. johnny looks... well, still drunk, but now a new kind. pussydrunk? lovedrunk? either way, the glossy look on his face suits him.
• as your chest heaves, attempting to recollect yourself, everything about the situation comes back to reality. you just grinded against your best friend. your best friend made you cum from his mouth.
• "what's that look?" johnny asks, wiping his mouth with his forearm. his eyes are glittering with delight.
• "nothing," you shrug, his grin contagious. "you did good, johnny."
• "yeah?" he seems proud of himself, glancing downward for a moment. he squeezes your thighs lovingly, placing a gentle kiss on them before finally standing up.
• "yeah." just as you respond, you look down to his cock, wondering if maybe he'd need some help getting there, too. it seemed only fair, that is, until you notice it's semi-hard and soaked. you sit up and lean forward, looking past your legs and onto his trailer floor. cum is splattered onto the flooring, some of it dripping down his thigh. "you came from giving head?"
• "how could i not have?" johnny's sheepish at your observation, but owns up to it quickly as he tucks it back into his slacks. "you're incredible." his face is tinted pink.
• "you're too sweet," you giggle, and johnny helps you down from the vanity as your legs wobble. giving up on finding wherever the hell your pants went, johnny leaves for a moment and returns with a pair of pajama pants, presumably a pair he kept in the trailer for his princess naps.
• "look who's talking... hey, speaking of sweet," johnny laughs, rubbing his hands together. "you and me wash up, and we have some cake, yeah?"
• "i like that plan," as you jump into the pants. johnny visibly tenses up seeing your breasts bounce from the jump, and he can't ignore the way your thighs and ass jiggle. "where did i put it, anyway?"
• you both look around the trailer for a moment, the memory of placing the cake down hazy among the rest of the event. you let out a small gasp, realizing that the cake was on the vanity, the one you got fucked out on... or rather, it was. the cake was splattered on the floor, frosting spread out and depressingly smeared anywhere it could reach. you frown, and johnny hovers behind you as you both look over the mess.
• "that sucks," johnny sighs, but his voice sounds uplifting. "that's alright, i ate something better."
• "don't be gross," you giggle, swatting at his form behind you. "that was perfectly good cake."
• "we can make another," johnny offers. "together. and i'll make sure you spell it right this time." his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you in close and breathing in the scent of your hair. the sweat, perfume and natural smell you carried always drove him wild, but he was now comfortable enough to bury himself in it. you lean into his touch, sighing as the heat from your bodies provides the perfect comfort.
• "happy birthday, johnny," you mumble softly, rocking back and forth in his arms. johnny responds into your hair, his voice breathy and warm.
• "thank you, doll."
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Text
🎀💗 Birthday Kisses With Ace and Deuce 💗🎀
Since it’s my birthday (again) I thought I’d give myself a little treat 
Reader is written as female
Masterlist
ACE TRAPPOLA 
If there’s one thing you know about Ace was that he loved affection - kisses, cuddles, you name it. As much as he loved to play up the PDA to feed his ever growing ego, get a rise out of everyone in his vicinity, and get gifted your flustered expression, he truly did love smooching you until the both of you were left breathless, if the way he would smile into every kiss was any indication, or the delirious joy that would spread across his reddened face.
And it wasn’t like you were against his insatiable need for affection, if anything you enabled and emboldened him. If your heads weren’t resting on each other’s shoulders, or his arm isn’t fused around your waist, then you were the one reaching out for his hand, or pulling him in by his collar or tie, or sending him flying kisses or finger hearts whenever your eyes would meet.
The only ‘problem’, so to speak, was that Ace far preferred to give affection rather than receive it and if there was one way to describe Ace’s love it was ‘overflowing’. If you pecked his cheek or forehead or gave him a hurried kiss on his lips, or even just throw your arms around him with words of praise, he’ll instantly wrap his fingers around your wrist, pull you towards him, and cradle your face in his hands before taking your breath away and making you see stars, not caring (or perhaps even because) of the crowd around. Countless times the pair of you have been chided by Coach Vargas for your boyfriend’s late arrival for practice or interschool match whilst the rest of the team would either roll their eyes or send teasing smirks in your direction as you’d hurriedly smooth down your hair or arrange your askew clothes (meanwhile, Ace would make no indication of even thinking of doing the same as he’d stroll into the gymnasium with that lopsided grin).
So knowing that, you weren’t the least bit surprised to find yourself being on the receiving end of an onslaught the first thing on the morning of your birthday. For a boy like Ace, whose daily kiss count is somewhere around a hundred, the idea of not giving you kisses on such an occasion was blasphemy. 
“You-you know,” you managed to gasp out between the split second it took for the redhead to move from your lips to your jawline, switching between slow and tender kisses and a flurry of pecks peppering down your neck, “birthday kisses are really only supposed to-”
You cut yourself off with a keen when you feel teeth lightly graze the junction between your neck and shoulder.
“Psh, only-shmonly,” Ace scoffs after his mouth leaves your skin with a smack, “when have I ever been the one to do things the way they’re supposed to be done. No way am I limiting myself.”
And he goes back to your mouth, kissing you harshly and desperately but still managing to seep in that gentle care you’ve always felt in his embrace. Against your own judgement, your hands find purchase in ginger locks pressing him closer.
Normally, you’d be fine having a make out session but your current position, with you straddling him on the living room sofa of your dilapidated dormitory, one of his hands around your waist to keep you steady, where just about anyone could walk in and see, wasn’t exactly ideal. The ghosts were busy playing their card game in the kitchen, though it was an open secret that they were very much aware of what inevitably happens every time Ace comes makes a visit and Grim could only be distracted with extra servings of breakfast tuna for so long, especially since his clinginess and need for affection and instant gratification was the only one that could rival Ace’s - those two certainly give each other a run for each other’s money and you loved both of them very much.
Once the unfortunate need for oxygen makes you pull away, he is quick to cup your face in his palms and through the hazy vision past your eyelashes, all you could sense was a blur before you were pulled down and felt his mouth pressing against your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, any sliver of uncovered skin he could reach. Fireworks crackled beneath your skin as you panted, red hair tickling under your chin as Ace did nothing to soothe the frantic beating of your heart. You could feel his lips curling upwards at the space between your collarbones, an arm tightening around your waist, as he looks up at you.
“Say, babe?” he sings, a devilish smile betraying the oh-so-innocent lilt of his voice, “what do you say to getting a hickey as your first present of the day.”
Despite the euphoric fog clouding your head, you managed to weakly smack him on the shoulder, “Ace! Don’t you dare!”
“Kidding, kidding,” he chuckles and hugs you, pulling you downwards and sideways so that he was now spooning you on the couch, your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around you, all nice and snug. With his lips to your ear, he whispers, “Happy birthday, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You snuggle back against him, “Thank you, Ace. You sure know how to make me feel special.”
Without a word of warning, you found yourself being unceremoniously turned on you back, and Ace was on his knees, holding himself above you, his hands on either side of your head. 
“Ace! What-”
“I want to show just how special you are,” he smirks, a hand trailing down the collar of your blouse and stopping right at the first buttoned-up button, fingers twiddling with the smooth, round plastic, “is that alright, sweetheart?”
DEUCE SPADE
“Happy birthday!” The first thing that greeted you when you opened the door of your dormitory was a bouquet of fresh purple roses, baby breath and caspia, all wrapped up in baby pink and lilac tissue paper and tied together with a delicate blush pink ribbon.
You blinked at the flowers being thrusted into your face before you smiled at the red faced boy holding them, “thank you, Deuce. Would you like to come in?”
Once you’ve taken the bouquet from him, you step aside, letting him enter.
“Do you like them?” he blurts out, rubbing the back of his neck, “I thought I’d get you some flowers since it’s your birthday and all - not that these flowers are your gift or anything. I did get you an actual gift and not just something that would die in like a week. I wrapped it and everything only it doesn’t really look that nice since I’ve never really wrapped a present or anything so I’m really sorry and I don’t even know if you like what I got you so-”
“Deuce,” you say gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I love the flowers and I’m sure I’ll love what you’ve gotten for me. Honestly, the best present you can give me is staying here by my side.”
He sputters and coughs before clearing his throat, “well, I don’t plan on doing anything else.”
After unhooking his back from his shoulder, he took out a small box and handed it to you with a shy smile, his head bent so that his fringe shadowed his eyes, as he meekly said, “here you go.” 
Taking it from him, you inspected the packaging. You could see where he was coming from since the clumsily taped on baby chick patterned wrapping paper was far from what most people would call ‘neat’. It was messy and unorganised, with rips and creases and too much cellotape covering it, but it was so quintessentially Deuce you couldn’t help but swoon. Affection bubbled up within you at the thought of Deuce trying his hardest to wrap this, the image of his adorably frustrated face with his furrowed eyebrows and wide, confused doe eyes being brought to the front of your mind. You knew that if you laughed, he would’ve taken your endearment as something to be embarrassed about so you forced yourself to keep silent.
You did away with the covering to find yourself holding a sleek black cardboard box. Opening it up, you found a block of foam inside with a pretty little obsidian coloured, spade shaped metal pendant sitting inside.
“Oh, Deuce,” you gasp, turning to look at him in adoration, “it’s-it’s gorgeous. I love it.”
“Really?”
“Truly,” you carefully pull on the pendant, letting the thin silver necklace it’s attached to cascade below it, and gently place the box down, “would you put it on for me, please?”
He gulped, “s-sure.”
With shaking hands, he takes the necklace from you and you turn around, swiping your hair to the side with a swish of your hand to give him more access. Behind you, you hear the telltale click of a clasp before you feel a thin strand of cold metal rest against your nape. You were about to turn back around but before you could move, strong arms circle around your waist, sturdy enough to hold you in place but loose enough to give you wiggle room, and pull you against him and soft lips press against the back of your neck. Slow and tenderly, his mouth lingered before it pulled away.
You spun around and wrapped your own arms around his neck before drawing him into a kiss of your own. He takes a few steps forwards and pushes you backwards so your spine meets the hard wood of your front door, and instead of feeling pain, all you could focus on was the way his lips moved against yours, at how perfectly the two of you slotted against each other like jigsaw pieces that were made only to complement each other. 
Deuce naturally ran warm but now his calloused hands were burning, leaving sparks in their wake. His mouth finds its home along your neck and your fingers play with the navy strands at his nape.
“So beautiful,” he whispers against you, “I love you so much. It scares me sometimes - just how amazing you are. I’m worried that when I’m with you I will start to believe I'm greater than I actually am.”
“Don’t be silly, Deuce,” you reply, “you’re so strong and brave and brilliant. You’re so much smarter than you think you are and are so much better than you give yourself credit for. All of your achievements are your own. A result of your own hard work. And there'll never be a day when I’m not proud of you.”
“Hey,” he looks at you with almost glowing eyes and gives you a faux-annoyed look, only it doesn’t sell when paired with the redness that has spread across his cheeks, “today is supposed to be about you. It’s your birthday.”
“Exactly, it’s my birthday. And if I want to spend it praising my handsome boyfriend then I should be allowed to do so.”
He huffs, but it’s obviously for show, and leans in to claim your lips yet again.
“Thank you so much for being born,” he says once he parts away, “you’ve made my life so much brighter and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I promise to make you happy for as long as I live.”
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nickfowlerrr · 7 months
Note
Would you rather:
Walk in on dbf!Lee pleasuring himself to your pictures or have Bucky go into Winter Soldier mode while he’s fucking you 💞
it's no secret
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pairing: dbf!lee bodecker x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. reader is at minimum 25 but there's still an age gap. male masturbation. unprotected smut. lee being referred to as "daddy". honestly not as nasty as i was originally imagining this to be, and not as forbidden as most dbf tropes should probably be lol sorry.
words: 3.7k
notes: i was gonna say bucky, i really was, but then i got to thinking, and suddenly my fingers got to typing, and now here we are lol. pls enjoy.
thank you in advance for reading! comments and reblogs are always welcome and so appreciated.
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You were essentially blackmailed into coming along on this weekend trip to the family cabin by your dad. A promise that he wouldn't tell your mom about your holiday plans, and how they didn't involve you coming home this year, in exchange for your presence on this "family" trip. 
Unfortunately, your father failed to mention the last minute change of plans that included a few more people than you were prepared for staying at the cabin with you. 
Your room was yours, but all the other ones were now taken by family friends; some you knew, and some you'd only just met. As annoyed as you were at the number of people around, the presence of one in particular kept you from loading up your car and faking a work emergency to head back to your apartment in the city.
Lee Bodecker was a relatively new friend of your dad's, but his impression was lasting to say the least.
He was tall and thick, had a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, gorgeous blue eyes and the beginnings of crow's feet around them that only added to his attractiveness; you couldn’t deny that his age and respectability were part of what held your attention. His chestnut hair was dark with gray that shone through around his hairline and the badge he wore on his belt caught your eye, too. A sheriff. Hm. He had this air about him, this unspoken confidence and a powerful, authoritative presence that had you just a little more than interested in the man.
You had met a few weeks back at your dad's birthday party. He had caught you staring at him from across the room as he spoke to a group of people crowded around him, while you were sitting on the couch alone, nursing your soda and watching the party go on around you.
You hadn’t meant to stare, didn't even realize you were, until his sapphire eyes met yours. The twitch of a smirk playing on his lips as he returned your gaze sent a thrill up your spine, but you simply looked away, taking a sip from your drink as you crossed your legs and got more comfortable on the sofa.
You felt his eyes on you for a moment longer before the heavy weight of his gaze fell away. It wasn't long after that that a heavy weight soon fell next to you on the loveseat. 
Most of the guests, and your parents, were drunk as the party continued all around you, no one paying much of any attention to you or Lee as you sat right up against one another.
You set your drink on the side table before you turned slightly with a raised brow to your unexpected company.
“Hope you don’t mind me comin over, darlin’,” he began easily, “you looked a little lonely sittin here by yourself.”
His arm moved to stretch across the back of the couch, inviting you in closer to him than you already were.
“Did I?” you questioned. “Well, I appreciate you tearing yourself away from your enraptured audience just to offer me some company.”
You and Lee spoke for a long while, his charm effortless, his hand wandering, and that damn lopsided smirk never faltering as he flirted and teased you with fleeting touches… his big, warm palm sliding up your exposed thigh, under the tight material of your dress in a game of chicken until he was reluctantly pulled away from you by the badgering of your dad and his drunken friends, needing Lee to recount the story you were sure they’d all hear a million times by now. 
You had had enough yourself for one night, so adjusted the hem of your dress that would have been riding up your thick thighs regardless, and grabbed your purse and keys.
“Maybe I’ll see you around,” you said as you moved past him to get to your dad first, needing to say your goodbyes to your parents before you left.
“You will,” Lee rumbled in his reply, his voice a little deeper now than it had been earlier as he watched you walk in front of him, the view leaving him licking his lips as he fought to keep his hands to himself.
And he was right. 
You weren’t expecting him to be here this weekend, but you definitely weren’t complaining. 
All day had been spent with you both stealing glances at one another and trying repeatedly to get close, only for someone to come by and ruin any chance you had to even speak. 
It wasn’t until that night that you finally had some alone time with Lee.
Your parents were leading a hike up the mountain to see the stars that everyone wanted to join in on. Everyone but you two.
Lee had said goodnight to the group as they started getting ready to take off while you hung back, making sure everyone had everything they’d need. You helped spray your mom’s friend’s kids with bug repellent and double checked the flashlight batteries on the bigger lights before giving your portable phone charger to your dad, just in case, before the group of them left for their hike.
You were surprisingly giddy as you watched them all take off down the path. You waited a few minutes, making sure no one was gonna change their minds about the long night hike and turn around. You did a quick look around the cabin to ensure it really was just you and Lee and when you were satisfied, you went to your room to change into something more…easily accessible. 
You fussed over your hair needlessly for a minute in the bathroom before adjusting the straps of your night slip.
As you padded down the hallway from your room to the one Lee was staying in, you slowed when you heard noise coming from his direction.
The closer you got, the more the anticipation built as you realized what it was you were hearing.
Lee’s grunts and moans filled the empty hallway and had your pussy fluttering as your heart pounded. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to ease the growing desire but it did little to satisfy you as his voice only rose. 
When you were at the door, you realized that it wasn’t completely closed. He’d left it ajar.
You saw the glow of his phone from over his shoulder as he sat on the opposite side of the bed, facing away from the door.
You didn’t have to guess to know what it was he was doing, his fist moving tortuously over his thick cock as he pumped himself. It did surprise you, though, when you made out what it was he was looking at; more aptly, who he was looking at.
You recognized your picture from your private instagram account, the one you kept family off of. It was for your sexier pictures, the ones you didn’t always feel comfortable posting on your main. You’d followed Lee from that account the day after you’d met, your mom had posted a picture from the party and tagged him, among others, in the group pictures, and you took the opportunity as it was presented to you.
You’d messaged each other when you got the spare chance, exchanged numbers, and talked more these past weeks. So much so, you had even told him you were going to be out of town for this trip this weekend. 
The cocky smile he wore when he saw you this afternoon let you know why he hadn’t decided to share that he’d be here too. The look of surprise on your face was exactly what he wanted to see.
He’d tried to set up a time to see you in the time between your meeting and now, but you were always busy when he was free and vice versa. Honestly, a part of him was worried if you knew he’d be here, you would’ve found a way out. 
God, was he wrong. 
You’d been desperate for this man since the night you met him.
As you pushed the door further open, you couldn’t help but admire his form. He was naked as he sat on the edge of the bed, the muscles in his solid back flexing as his strong arm moved up and down while he stroked himself.
You didn’t even realize you were breathing heavier as you inched closer, his moans the only thing you could focus on now.
Lee could sense you coming up behind him, he heard you when you pushed the door open, and now he was really putting on a show for you. He wanted you to know exactly what you did to him, with just a goddamn photo. He wanted you to hear how fucking good you make him feel without even having to have his hands on you. 
You aren’t thinking as you climb onto the bed, crawling closer to him until you're against him entirely. You take a second before you allow your hands to touch him, slipping them up his back, over his shoulders and down his chest as he purrs, leaning back into you.
You’re mesmerized by his movements, his fist pumping over his leaking cock as he keeps his eyes on his phone, your photo taking up the screen as his mind runs wild with all the things he wants to do to you. 
“As good of a picture as that is,” you speak headily in his ear, causing goosebumps to break out over his skin, “I’m sure I can do more for you in person.” You smile as he licks his pink lips, taking his phone from him before gently tossing it up the bed.
“‘Bout damn time,” he responds gruffly, turning to capture your lips in his as he lets go of his cock. He holds your head with one hand as he threatens to consume you with his kiss alone.
He then reaches his arm down and takes you by the waist as he moves to lay down on the bed in the same moment, everything much more hurried now as he urges you to move on top of him.
Lee is completely naked as you straddle him, your night slip raised over your hips to allow the position. 
“Fuck I’ve been picturing you like this since the night of your dad’s party,” he said as his hands moved from your thighs, up your hips, and under the slip to push it up your body further.
“Let’s not talk about my dad right now,” you rasped before you allowed him to raise the slip higher, finally pulling it over your head and tossing it to the side.
“How pissed do you think he’d be if he knew his precious daughter was seconds away from riding his friend’s cock in his own cabin, huh?”
“Lee, please,” you moan with a pout.
He chuckles as he reaches a hand up from your hip to your breasts, pinching a nipple meanly as you whine, moving your hips over his to no avail. He keeps you exactly where he wants you.
“You made me wait, it’s only fair, darlin’,” he smirks, clearly enjoying himself.
“You’re gonna be left waiting even longer if they get back soon,” you try to argue.
“You think I won’t still fuck you if your parents are here?” he asks as he takes hold of his cock again. You move your hips, trying to make it easier for him to position himself as he moves his dripping cockhead up and down your slit. You moan helplessly as he rubs against your clit, leaning over him as you urge him to just put it in already. His tauntings aren’t doing anything to help, either.
You can feel his tip at your entrance as you feel his lips against your ear, 
“Let your dad hear you screamin’ daddy,” he growls as he thrusts into you at last, a wanton moan escaping you as your hands find purchase on his shoulders. 
He growls again as your walls grip his length. He holds you there for a long moment as you adjust to his intrusion, his fingers digging into your fleshy hips.
“God, you feel so good,” you whimper before you begin to move atop him, his hands leading your movements.
Your head falls back in pleasure as you ride him, the way he fills you up, a delight you don’t think you’ve ever experienced. 
Lee watches you with heavy lids, his blue eyes dark with unrestrained lust. He lets you take control as you move your hips over his, chasing your own pleasure as each move stimulates your clit.
He can’t stop himself though, eventually his hips jerk up into you, causing you to clench around him, your hold on him tightening when he begins fucking up into you with abandon.
You fall onto him with a cry as he grips your ass almost painfully.
The first slap he lands is sharp and stings but has your walls gripping his shaft even tighter.
“You like that, baby?” he snickers through a moan as you babble mindlessly, his cock still thrusting into you as his hips never slow.
The second slap burns more than the first but Lee quickly follows it up with his palm massaging the sting gently as you moan meekly.
“Daddy asked you a question, darlin’,” he taunts as his pace slows. The drag of his cock is still long and deep, though. He ensures you feel every inch of him as he slides in and out of your cunt. 
“Yes,” you answer as you pick your hips up and down, wanting it harder.
Another slap has you gasping as you peer up at Lee. Your mouth goes dry at the look in his eyes as his hips stop moving entirely.
“Yes, daddy,” you murmur as you hold his stare.
A growl ripes from his throat at your words as he holds your waist tightly, flipping you so you’re on your back as he hovers above you.
The sight of Lee between your legs sends a new wave of slickness to your pussy as you relax into the bed with a pleasured sigh.
He positions himself at your entrance and slides right in, pulling you closer by your hips as he thrusts into your wet heat.
He groans as he leans over you, looking down at your exposed body.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”
You’re stunned at his words. You knew he was attracted to you, duh, but there was something so genuine about the way he said it. It sent a flutter to your belly as you couldn’t do anything but stare back up at him with doe eyes as he fucked you so perfectly.
You reached up and pulled him down to you, crashing your lips into his as your response. He licked into your mouth and you let him dominate the kiss as you followed his lead.
He finally broke it when you were both nearly out of breath. 
“Goddamn perfect,” he husked as he leaned back up, rolling his hips into yours, his cock sliding right against the spot you most wanted to feel him. He groped your breasts, kneading them with his large hand, playing with your nipples as he growled and groaned, his touch and filthy sounds only spurning you on further.
“Lee,” you whimpered, grabbing at him as your walls tightened, that coil in your belly tightening more and more with his every thrust.
“‘M right there, baby. Right there with you,” he huffed, “just a little more.”
“Please,” you breathed, your eyes squeezing tightly as you tried to hold off your orgasm just a little longer, “please, Lee.”
He grunted, hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as he fucked your harder, stretching you delightfully. 
“Please come with me, Daddy, please,” you begged, earning a deep thrust and a symphony of sinful noises and curses from the man pounding into you. Another harsh thrust had you nearly squealing as you finally came around his thick length, the hot pleasure shooting through you before crashing down wave after euphoric wave as your body tensed and shook.
Cries of pleasure and his name like a prayer left your lips as your walls milked his cock, his come filling you up as he let himself burst inside of you. The hot, thick ropes of his release hitting your walls had you squeezing him tighter as you whimpered beneath him.
As you began to come down and tried to regulate your breathing, his hand on your face had you opening your eyes before they closed once more as he pressed his swollen lips to yours. The kiss was slow and deep as his hips slowed and stilled against yours while your hands found his face in return, holding him to you. His cock softened and slipped out of you, causing you to murmur into the kiss at the loss of him. He smirked against your lips before he ended it, pressing his forehead to yours instead as you breathed each other in. 
You peered into his eyes as he stared down at you.
There was a softness in his gaze that you swear could’ve had you melting into the mattress right then and there.
He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but return it as you smiled demurely back.
Your thumb mindlessly stroked his cheek before he nuzzled into your touch. Lee let his body lay down next to you on the mattress, holding your hand against his face and pulling your body closer to his with his free hand.
He sighed contentedly as you turned into him. 
“Was the wait worth it?” you asked softly.
He looked to you, squeezing you just a bit tighter, “Well worth it.”
You laughed, “Good. I’m glad. We’ll have to do this again sometime,” you simpered, pushing off of him, turning back to get off the bed.
“Where do you think you’re goin’ sweetheart?” he said, stopping you from leaving.
“What, I can’t stay in here. My mom’ll realize I’m not in my room and freak out. She’s paranoid about me being taken by some mystery monster up here, has been since I was a kid,” you reminisced. 
“Darlin’,” he drawled, rolling over you once again, “I think she already knows you’ve been taken by the monster,”
You laughed as he attacked your neck with kisses, holding you close to him. 
“Oh, and you, Sheriff, you’re the monster?”
“Mhm. Prepared to take her daughter away to his lair. Keep her all to himself,” he murmured against your skin.
“Well, for what it’s worth,” you said, running your fingers through his short hair, “I don’t foresee her putting up much of a fight.”
You could feel his smirk before he pulled away to look you in the eyes once again. 
“I am serious, darlin’. I think she already knows we may be up to something.”
“How would she possibly know that?”
He sighed, turned and layed down next to you again, “I asked your dad for his permission before I tried to ask you out the other week.”
“What? You did?” you asked in disbelief, “and he said yes?”
“I was as shocked as you are,” he smiled. “He asked me the other day at work how it went and when I told him we hadn’t been able to set anything up, he invited me here this weekend.”
“Ah,” all the pieces were connecting now as you let out a breathless chuckle. “Hm.”
“There a problem with that?”
“No,” you shook your head, “no, I just. I don’t normally tell my parents about the people I see until things are, uhm…serious, I guess?... And I mean, this was great, I would absolutely love to do it again,” you smiled, “but, uh, what exactly are we doing? Just so we’re on the same page, so we know where we stand.”
“Sex is great,” he agreed, “but I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t hoping for more.”
“More as in, like, dating?”
He turned to be face to face with you before he spoke, “That was my intention.”
You nodded then, fighting a bigger smile from breaking out across your face. 
“Okay,” as you spoke, you could hear the front door downstairs open. Your eyes went wide as your head shot to the still open door of the room, “Shit. Well for now, I’d prefer my parents not know I desecrated their beloved cabin by getting creampied by their friend in the bed that they paid for,” you whisper ranted as you clamored off the bed and pulled your night slip back on. You were about to rush to the door, trying to beat them up the stairs as Lee sat up and leaned against the headboard, watching you, quite entertained by your frantic state before you stopped in your tracks, turned around and padded back over to him, “I’ll leave my door open, but you’ll have to wait until my parents shut their light off if you want round two,” you whispered, kissing him gently before slipping away just as fast, shutting his door behind you. All he could do was smile, still basking in the afterglow and the idea of what was still to come.
It was an hour later, after your mom had checked in on you - a habit from the past twenty something years since they’d bought the cabin - and their lights went out across the hall, that your bed dipped as Lee quietly crawled in beside you.
His arms wrapped around you, his lips pressed against your ear,
“You said somethin’ bout round two. Much as I loved hearin’ you moan for me, let’s see how quiet you can be for Daddy.”
You whimpered almost inaudibly, but Lee heard it anyway, his large hand coming up to your throat, instantly causing you to get even more wet for him as he squeezed ever so slightly.
“You gonna be a good girl for me, baby?” he prompted, a wicked smirk on his lips as he pressed his boxer cover erection against your bare ass.
Your voice was a pathetic whisper as you pressed back against him,
“Yes, Daddy.”
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penvisions · 1 month
Text
coffee and candor {one shot}
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader
Summary: Frankie picks you up for date number three and he's got it all planned out. Unfortunately, you're a little out of your depth with what he has in mind...
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: insecurities, frankie being excited and adorable gets it's own warning, competence kink, kissing, matching clothing, this is so fluffy and soft, um i think that's it tbh
A/N: while i'm still taking a short break from regular fic updates, this was a commission by the lovely @whocaresstillthelouvre. the prompt was 'nervous frankie x not outdoorsy! reader go on a hike early in their relationship'. i rather like how this turned out! i am still taking commissions even if i'm not working on wips at the moment. anything helps, please check out this post and this post to know more about what's goin' on in my lil corner. no pressure all all lovelies, i know things are tough for everyone! love y'll and hope the day is good to you ♡♡
ao3 link || navigation || main masterlist || ko-fi
Body tingling with anticipation, you wait on for the rumble of a truck engine to round the corner. You were nervous, this is only your third date with the man you had met by chance at a coffee shop. A mix up of to go cups and you found yourself placating a very tired and embarrassed Frankie Morales.
He had picked up your drink by mistake. But if you were honest, it was totally okay that you had to wait an extra few moments to get it remade before you blipped off to work, because it gave you the chance to chat with him and scrawl your phone number onto the cup that was supposed to be yours. His kind smile motivating you to be a little bolder than you normally would.
The truck does indeed rumble around the corner and within minutes you’re sat in the passenger seat with the radio playing low and cruising down the highway.
“So what did you plan for us today? The truck looks suspiciously empty.” You eyed the cooler sitting in the extended cab, lid propped open and empty. Then the simplistic backpack beside it, it was always in the foot space between the two front seats. Frankie had admitted to you that it helped to ground him to know he had essentials within reach at all times, just in case. You hadn’t pushed for more of an explanation, knowing he had faced more than a few situations he felt less than prepared for.
But the rite in the rain notebook with the matching pen he had in his pocket along with his wallet at all times told you he was good at preparing for anything within reason. The situations he faced out of his control had not been shared with you quite yet but you would be content if they weren’t, only wanting for him to tell you if he was comfortable enough to do so.
With pink tinged ears he turns to you with a lopsided smile.
“The pack has everything we need, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
“Not worried, just curious.” Your tongue peeks out from between your teeth and you see the way his adam’s apple bobs in response. His eyes snap back to the road and you feel a giddy sense of satisfaction at having flustered him a bit. He’d been the perfect gentlemen, his large hands only skimming around your body to lead you through doors, a tentative palm on your thigh as you sit beside him. No kissing, at least not yet. You were hoping today would be the day.
“I figured we would get out of the city a bit, go on a hike. It’s a really short one, only a few miles. Not too bad of an elevation gain, cleared out of poison oak, leads to a view I really think you’ll like. It’s an easy looped hike, so I figured we’d have a bite to eat at the midpoint. I packed up some snacks too, plenty of water. Even got some bugs spray and sunscreen.”
He rambled on, excitement obvious as he detailed the plan for the day, his face lighting up in the most endearing way. He was totally in his element and you….you were not. When you didn’t quip back immediately, he loosened a curled fist from around the steering wheel and reached for your thigh.
“That okay?” He jostled you slightly, worry seeping into his voice.
“Oh, um, y-yes.” You tried to muster up a smile, but it paled in comparison to the one he had only moments ago.
“I knew I should’ve run the idea by you. You don’t seem as excited now,” His bottom lip was taken between his teeth, worrying the skin of it as he regarded your profile. The slight furrow to your brow, the way your hands were wound around the flaps of your open overshirt. You had picked out a tank top and shorts outfit, tossing on casual button up over it, not sure what he had planned initially.
The first date had been coffee: to make up for him stealing yours. He had been nervous, his energy spiking and waning as he admitted he didn’t do this often. Date. Get random phone numbers. Have a lot of free time. He was a dad, to a bouncy and energetic seven-year-old. Nothing to worry about on the baby momma front, she wasn’t a part of the picture. A story you didn’t push on either, just making it as comfortable as possible between you two for him to want to tell you.
The second date had been dinner, with him in an ironed outfit and you in a slinky dress. It had been so much fun, the excitement obvious as you both hoped for another chance to see each other.
And now, the third: a hike.
You did not hike. You didn’t do anything considered outdoorsy if you were being completely honest. You were a lazy, take the day off to look through thrift shops kind of person. A curl up on the couch with a cup of steaming coffee or a cocktail and a book kind of person.
“Hey,” He breathed, soft brown eyes watching the way you had closed up. “It’s okay. We don’t have to, I promise I won’t be mad.”
“You’re so excited, though.” You move a hand to tangle your fingers with is, hand still on your thigh. Your stomach flutters, his skin is calloused and warm.
“I get excited about spending time with you, hermosa. It doesn’t matter what we do.”
“I want to do the hike.” You insist, wanting him to go back to the enthusiastic way he had talked about his plans.
“Please don’t feel like you have-“
“I don’t feel like I have to, Frankie, I want to. Because you want to. Simple.” You squeeze his hand in yours, placating him along with a soft smile.
“Simple.” With a lopsided grin and a press of his lips to your knuckles, the tension eases.
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Gravel crunched underneath the tired of the truck as Frankie maneuvers off the secluded highway. Tall trees and various shades of green surround you. You both sat and listened to the clinking of the engine cooling down, taking a moment to breathe in the pine and cedar.
“I, uh, got you something.” He huffed a little as he reached for the back and hauled it into his lap.
“You didn’t have to- oh my gosh!” It was a hat, a baseball cap just like the one atop his head. Dark navy blue, emblazoned with a ‘standard heating oil’ patch. Your stomach fluttered at the implication.
“To help keep the sun off your head and outta your eyes.” He plopped it atop your head, the stiff thing just barely resting over your hair. “We’ll have a lot of tree coverage, but better safe than sorry.”
“We’re matching.” You can’t help the teasing smile that took over your lips, heat blooming in your cheeks as you realized you would look like an official couple to any onlookers. Something you had thought about more and more as Frankie filled your thoughts and messages.
“Yeah, would you look at that.” A dimple in his right cheek had you reaching out to caress it, silently thanking him for his thoughtfulness. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted one like mine, but I’m really glad you like it.”
“I do like it! I like matching with you, Frankie.”
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His smile was dazzling as he looked back at you over his shoulder. You perked up a little, not wanting him to see the way it was hard to catch your breath or the falter to your steps as your legs began to ache from the incline. The slight brush of the long grass and reaching limbs full of leaves tickled but you tried your best to ignore it, opting to focus on the broad set of shoulders carrying a backpack.
Another bout of time passed, allowing for sweat to dampen your brow and the small of your back. You had removed your overshirt, tying the long sleeves around your waist. The stray pieces of your hair that had escaped from your hat floated around your face as you puffed out a deep breath.
Frankie seemed to pick up the moderate pace he had been keeping, his boots thudding the ground as he turned to pivot from the path as it began to curve.
“Uh, the trail goes that way.” You pointed over your shoulder, having followed the man’s lead regardless.
“I know, got a map in the pack if it makes you feel better.” He tossed you a reassuring smile, over his own shoulder. His eyes alight underneath his cap.
You were about to respond when he took another step and suddenly the trees fell away from around you, leaving you stood on an overlook. Valley open and wide in front of you, the view took your already short breath away. Frankie looked from the view to gauge your reaction. And he broke out into a wide smile as he saw how much you were taken off guard by the beautiful view.
Removing is pack, he set it down and reached to turn you toward him.
“This last month or so has been so amazing. Getting to know you has been some of the best parts of my life, hermosa. I was worried dating again after so long and not even looking for it would’ve been another lesson learned but everything with you is just so….”
“Simple.” You allowed him to caress his hands over the small of your back, your own reaching for his shoulders. The bills of your matching hats bumped, easy laughter bubbling up from you both.
“Simple.” He agreed, tongue swiping out to wet his plush lips. His eyes flicked down to yours briefly and your heart fluttered as warmth blossomed in your chest. Pressing more into his space, your chest bumped his, giving him the nudge he needed to close the gap even more.
Out on that ridge where you never would’ve trekked to on your own, you shared your first of many kisses with the man who had taken you completely by surprise. His lips soft and pliant against yours, his warmth seeping into you much like the sun on your skin underneath the open sky. You were the one to lick into the seam of his mouth, something he readily allowed you to do. The slid of his tongue on yours like heaven.
Breaking away, Frankie peppered kisses over your face. Lips tasting the salt from your sweat but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. Turning side by side, he kept his hand around your waist and you mimicked him.
Maybe hiking wasn’t so bad.
dividers by the lovely @/cafekitsune
taglist: @tuquoquebrute @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal
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shanastoryteller · 17 days
Note
Happy bday! More Edward bartender?
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
It's not that he doesn't appreciate the sentiment behind his mother sending Ed to be his bodyguard, it's just that no matter how enticing the muscles along his back and arms are, Roy just doesn't see them doing a whole lot of good against anyone that he can't handle himself. Ed's used to dealing with drunken patrons and thugs, not trained military combatants.
"We could just go our separate ways and say we didn't?" he offers.
Ed scoffs. "Yeah, no. Chris could make my life very, very difficult if she wanted to. I'm staying on her good side." He gives him a grin, almost sly but a little too lopsided. "Besides, I'd rather you stay in one piece myself."
If this meeting weren't very, very important, he'd suggest they relocate so Ed could commence guarding his body in a more personal capacity. Their game of flirtation hasn't really led anywhere, but they're outside the bar together for the first time too.
Unfortunately, it really is that important.
"Alright," he sighs. "Be careful."
"I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be the one telling you that," he says, bumping their shoulders together as they had down the street.
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applejuicebegood · 1 month
Note
Hi babes! It’s Naz (from @midnightorchids, I just realized you can’t send messages from side blogs unfortunately), I hope you're doing well!! I thought that since you're always sending me fun little scenarios, it's only fair if I send something back! Someone requested this prompt earlier this week and it’s quite rushed, but I thought you'd enjoy reading this as well. Let me know your thoughts!
-
Jason's hand grazes the soft surface of your skin, his fingers delicately tracing the thin lines of the new tattoo adorning your neck.
The tattoo was an homage to your love for him and he's touched. No one's ever made him feel this way before.
Jason's spent a lot time in the dark, closed off from the rest of world, feeling unlovable, but you made him feel otherwise. When he was with you, he no longer saw the horrid man he once thought he was. With you, he felt loved, he felt enough.
Jason bites back a smile and his fingers continue to dance around your skin, it tickles, but you let him continue.
The tattoo was more for you than it was for Jason, it was a constant reminder of his presence. A reminder for when he left for long missions, for when you were afraid he might not make it back. You now always had a piece of him with you.
You had it planned out for months and had finally got the courage to go through with it. Now, on the back side of your neck, sits a small bat, Jason's bat, his symbol.
Jason's fingers lace around your jaw, making you face him. He cradles your face gently into his palms and you find yourself snuggling into his touch.
"You did this for me," he questions softly, voice barely above a whisper.
"Just for you Jay," you reply and he smiles, hard, teeth and all.
"It's so fucking pretty, you're so pretty," and he places a soft kiss on your lips. "Can't believe you did this for me babe," and he kisses you again. With every kiss, you can feel him smirking harder against your lips, he's excited, he's happy.
He pulls back and laughs, rubbing his face with hands. His laugh is deep and contagious, you find yourself giggling with him.
"Holy shit dude, you really got a tattoo for me," he exclaims. "No one's ever done that for me before."
"No one better have Jay," you say furrowing your eyebrows, trying to get serious, but there's a huge smile plastered on your face. Jason reciprocates with a cheesy lopsided grin.
He pulls you in close again, this time embracing you with his large frame, you hug back tighter and he kisses the crown of your head, with a loud 'muah' sound.
"I love you," he says.
"And I love you Red," you reply and he takes that as a sign to continue smothering you with kisses.
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NO CUZ I DON'T THINK YOU GET IT. Was literally having the worst time studying for English finals and then you part the clouds and grace me with this!!!! Like are you kidding???!!!!! And you best believe Jason has tattoos on his body specifically about you. In some of the comics and fanart he's got these detailed sleeves or back pieces, I personally think he's got a more patchwork kinda style. He would get your birth flower or the date of your anniversary tattooed on the inside of his wrist or his chest (over the heart). You would smile and hide your face in your own giddy puppy love as you lay across his naked chest, the tattoo just under your cheek. He think's it's incredibly funny and sweet. If you ever decide to get more tattoos yourself, he's coming with you to every session. It's more to help with the pain of it- offering his hand for you to squeeze or his arms to lean onto if ur feeling woozy and need a break. I think ya'll would get really small/subtle matching tattoos. Like a small sun and moon- or a the first letter of your names tattooed on the other. It's something easily hidden that only the both of you get to blush and giggle over. HAND TATTOOED JASON DEAR LORD ALMIGHTY- you would kiss over the lettering or the curved lined patters over the tops of his hands and across every knuckle. He melts as you bring his palm up to your cold cheek, now holding your face so gently.
- Man dude- like I said, was having a really rough go of it and this literally turned my day entirely around. Like I was able to get the rest of my review stuff done cuz I was feeling so much better after reading this. Your such a gift babe - thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!! Masterlist
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stop-talking · 2 months
Text
So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 5)
Derek Danforth x fem reader
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Word count: 4k
Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, lots of fluff, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, masturbating.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6
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To celebrate a week of sobriety, you decide to surprise Derek with a cake.
Of course, since there isn't exactly a bakery on a remote island, you had to bake it yourself.
Which you did. Last night. Now you stand in the kitchen, wondering how exactly you should decorate the damn thing.
And what to write on it?
"Congrats, maybe now you'll live past 40!" No, that's morbid.
"Bye-bye blunts and blow!" Too cringy.
"Happy one-week?" Hmm... that sounds like an anniversary thing.
Damnit. Maybe this isn't a situation that calls for cake after all. You sigh and continue to mumble random slogans to yourself as you slather the icing on nice and thick.
It looks a little messy, but you're not exactly a professional baker. Which is unfortunate, because that's probably exactly what he's used to. Oh well. It's the thought that counts, right?
You just want to show him how proud you are. He really has changed a lot over the past week, surprising you every day with how... normal he can be. When he wants to, at least.
Picking up a piping bag of green icing, you start placing decorative dollops around the edge of the cake. Some of them are a little lopsided, but it doesn't look too bad overall.
What now? You mindlessly lick some stray icing off your wrist and stare down at the gaping blank space in the middle of the cake.
Eventually, you settle on three words.
"Proud of you."
It's fitting. He has a lot to be proud of. Not just the sobriety stuff, but everything.
He's been picking up new skills every day. You smile as you tidy up the cake decorating mess strewn about the counter, thinking back to your first time cooking with Derek.
He'd been cocky and overconfident, and so utterly dumbfounded when that pancake met a splatter-y death on the stovetop.
And yet, he still got back up and tried again. After relentless pestering from you, obviously, but it still counted.
You stand back and survey your work. Cream colored icing, green lettering, and... okay, maybe the hearts were a bit much. Hopefully he didn't get the wrong idea. You're just... proud. That's all.
Now the only thing missing is Derek. He went upstairs an hour or so ago for a nap, mumbling something about a headache. Poor thing.
He's been so damn clingy lately, always touching you in some way or another. It seemed almost subconscious for him at times. A hand on your shoulder, his knee against yours, an arm around your waist... no matter what you were doing, he had to have physical contact.
You smile as you make your way upstairs to his room. Maybe today would be the day you finally give him a proper hug.
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
Derek is woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of you calling out his name.
Usually, that would be a welcome sound. You're always such a good distraction from his withdrawals.
But right now? He just wants to sleep. No, more than that. He wants to hibernate, to go into a goddamn coma and never have to wake up again.
"Can I have another twenty minutes?" He croaks, lifting his head from the mess of pillows to call out to you.
Apparently he can't, because he hears the door click open, and you peek your head in through the crack.
Derek just groans and buries his face back into the bed. His sheets and blankets are a tangled mess, and he's twisted himself into an awkward angle throughout his nap.
"Come on, It's been over an hour already." Derek can feel the bed shift as you take a seat on the edge.
"Well I'm still fuckin' exhausted." He mumbles into the pillow, not bothering to turn and look at you.
"Derek. You should know by now I'm not gonna let you rot in bed all day."
The almost sarcastic tone in your voice is what finally breaks him. This week has been hell, and you're just mocking him.
He hasn't only given up drugs this week, but all of his servants and staff as well. It was one thing to help you with cooking, but yesterday you'd made him do laundry. LAUNDRY. What the fuck did he look like? A maid?
"Fuck off." He grumbles a little louder, pushing your hand away as you reach to play with his hair.
His sour attitude apparently doesn't deter you any, because he can hear you laughing at him. Derek grits his teeth and finally sits up, glaring at you.
"You're really fucking annoying, you know that? Always pissing me off."
The words leave his mouth before he can really think them through, and when he sees your smile fall he immediately regrets them.
Unfortunately, he's too tired, sick, and stubborn to take it all back. Even while his heart drops into his stomach, he continues to glare daggers at you.
"Alright... twenty more minutes." With that, you slide off his bed and quickly make your way to the door.
Fuck. As soon as the door closes, Derek is left in darkness, in more ways than one.
His stomach twists into knots and he can feel his chest grow heavy. He tries to scramble after you, but gets caught in the tangle of blankets and ends up falling to the floor instead.
God damn it. Why does he always have to be such a fuck up? You aren't annoying. You're the only thing keeping him sane right now, and he goes and pushes you away.
He collapses on the floor, sighing at the feeling of the cold hardwood against his cheek. A few tears roll down his face, and he laughs bitterly as a thought crosses his mind.
Your thighs make a much better pillow than the floor.
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
Twenty minutes later, you knock at Derek's door once more. He mumbles something incomprehensible, and you take that as permission to enter.
The sight in front of you makes you pause. What the hell is he doing? You flip the lights on just to make sure your eyes aren't playing tricks on you.
They aren't.
Derek Danforth lies on the floor next to his bed, groaning and blinking up at the harsh overhead light.
"Looks real comfortable down there." You tease, setting the glass of water you brought him on his bedside table before joining him on the floor.
He refuses to look at you, throwing his arm over his eyes and groaning.
"You need to eat. And drink. I brought you some water."
Derek stays quiet as you sit next to him and place a hand on his shoulder. His lips are pressed into a tight line, and he's still hiding behind his arm.
"Why are you so goddamn nice?" He finally groans.
"We've already had that talk."
"Okay, then why are you so goddamn nice even when I'm being a prick?"
You move his arm away from his face, and he doesn't fight it. When you finally get a look at him, it's obvious he's been crying.
Derek Danforth. Crying on his bedroom floor. That's a sight.
A sight that really breaks your heart, actually. His watery eyes threaten to make yours overflow as well, so you quickly wipe away his tears with the hem of your shirt.
"You think I expect you to go through three weeks of rehab and not be a prick sometimes?"
Derek actually chuckles at that, and finally meets your gaze. He looks absolutely wrecked.
"I didn't mean what I said earlier."
"I know."
You scoot a little closer, and gently tug at him. He takes the hint, placing his head on your lap with his cheek against your thigh.
Neither of you talk for a few minutes. He just closes his eyes and sighs as you play with his hair. Over the past week, you've learned what he likes. Tug at his curls in just the right way, and he...
Derek lets out a soft whimper and you smile. There it is.
"Wanna make it up to me?" You tease.
He glances up at you, an eager look in his eyes.
"How?"
"Get rid of this." You laugh and trail a finger along his jawline, feeling at his overgrown stubble. He most likely hasn't shaved since arriving here a week ago.
"What? You don't like it?"
"Do you?"
"..."
Derek pouts, pushing your hand away and feeling at it himself. His brow furrows adorably as he considers your words.
"It looks manly."
"There's a difference between manly and cave-man-ly."
He scoffs at that, but when you start poking and prodding at his face where his stubble has grown out, he cracks a smile.
"Fine, fine. You win. I'll shave."
He swats your intrusive hands away, then sits up and stretches.
Now that he's up and moving, you decide it's time to go. On your way out the door, you hesitate, remembering the reason you came to get him in the first place.
"Oh, don't take too long. I have a surprise waiting for you downstairs."
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
Derek stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, feeling at his stubble. You're right, he does look better with a trim.
He knows he should head downstairs, but his heart is beating a million times a second, and not even from withdrawals.
That little comment about a surprise? God damnit. You're teasing him. You have to be. How could you say something like that and not expect him to get excited?
Derek sighs and tucks his boner into the waistband of his boxers, then looks at himself in the mirror one more time to make sure it isn't noticeable. It's not... mostly.
Damnit. He could probably take a few minutes and rub one out, but he'd absolutely die of embarrassment if you walked in on him AGAIN.
He groans and turns to leave. Oh well. It's hidden well enough, and you'd already seen worse. Plus... maybe if this surprise is anything like his fantasies, he'd have an opportunity to use it.
"Oh, wait wait wait!" You scramble over to him as he trudges downstairs, keeping him from entering the living room.
"Are you gonna tell me what my surprise is?"
"No! Then it wouldn't be a surprise at all. Close your eyes."
Derek does as instructed, shutting his eyes tight. When feels you grab his hand and start to tug him along, he can't help but sneak a peek.
"I swear... if your Idea of a surprise is to walk me into a wall-"
"Oh, shut it." You scoff and clap your free hand over his eyes.
"Just trust me. And no peeking."
Derek grumbles, but he does trust you. A lot more than he lets on. So, he blindly stumbles along as you lead him into the... kitchen? Yeah, he's pretty sure he's in the kitchen.
"Okay, you can look." You uncover his eyes, but keep a tight hold on his hand as you beam at him.
"What do you think?"
What does he think?
What does he think?
Derek chokes up at the sight before him, and has to turn his head so you don't see the way his eyes are watering again.
A cake. You baked him a fucking cake to say you're proud of him. And he called you annoying.
"It's to celebrate being a week sober." You explain, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of his face.
He squeezes your hand tightly, but can't get any words out.
"A week." He whispers, blinking back tears. Fuck, has it been a week already? It feels like hardly a day has passed.
"Oh, love. C'mere."
Derek lets himself be pulled into your arms. He groans from your touch, melting into the embrace and burying his face in your neck.
God, this is perfect. He's wanted to be held like this for so long, but now that it's finally happening... he can't help but feel guilty.
"I'm such an ass." He mumbles into your neck, lips pressed to your skin.
"Not always." You laugh softly and pull him a little closer.
Too close. He can feel your breasts pressing against him... fuck. Any closer and you might be able to feel what he has tucked away.
"Not always?" Derek scoffs, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes.
"Is that really the best you've got to make me feel better?"
"What? You want me to lie?"
"Maybe."
He stares into your eyes, heart pounding in his chest as he suddenly realizes just how close you are. It takes everything in him not to lean in and bridge the few inch gap between the two of you.
"You look nice like this."
Derek can feel his face heating up as you cup his face with a hand. Shit, If you don't stop soon he might actually just kiss you.
"Like what?" He asks breathlessly, mesmerized by your touch.
"With a trim." You smile and run your thumb along his his stubble, eyes trailing from his jaw to his lips.
For a second, Derek is sure you're going to kiss him. He tilts his head ever so slightly in anticipation, and his eyes flutter shut.
"So... you want a piece of cake?" You clear your throat, suddenly dropping your arms and breaking the embrace.
Of course you weren't going to kiss him. Derek gives you a half-hearted smile and nods, trying to hide just how crushed he feels.
"Yeah, sure. Cake."
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
"No, love, you're supposed to do the edge pieces first."
You chuckle as Derek angrily fumbles with two puzzle pieces. They quite obviously don't match, but he's trying to force them together anyways.
"Sorry, I wasn't aware puzzles had rules." He scoffs, dramatically tossing the little cardboard chunks across the table.
You'd dragged him out to the porch for a little fresh air, since he insisted he was too tired to make the five minute walk down to the beach.
"Well, they do. The biggest rule is don't throw the puzzle pieces, or you'll lose them." You laugh and continue flipping pieces over so they're facing upwards.
It hasn't been very long since you started the puzzle, and Derek already looks bored.
"Is this supposed to be fun?" He grumbles, helping you flip over pieces with one hand, the other finding it's way to rest on top of yours.
You wonder if he even notices he's doing it again. Touching you like that. You've gotten used to it by now, and usually just let it happen.
"Oh, come on. You gonna let a puzzle get the best of you, Danforth? A child could do this."
Derek makes a face and gestures to the sea of little cardboard scraps scattered across the table.
"A child could do a one thousand piece puzzle?" He scoffs.
"Okay, maybe not..." You laugh and adjust your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
"But I'm sure you can do it."
Derek's face flushes pink, and you aren't sure whether its from the praise or the way you're so casually holding his hand. Probably both. But so what if you're holding his hand? He's the one who started it.
He just mumbles something under his breath and looks back down at the table, suddenly very motivated to help you pick through the pieces.
His hand doesn't leave yours.
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
Derek wakes up from a deep sleep to the sound of your voice and the feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp.
He gasps and tries to sit up, but finds he's stuck.
Er, not stuck, just... underneath you?
"Come on, love. You slept through nearly the whole movie." You laugh softly and start to nudge him off your lap.
Derek finally remembers what's going on, and pulls his arm out from under you. Apparently he'd tucked it beneath your knees while he slept, because he sure didn't remember doing it.
"Told you a chick flick would put me to sleep." He mumbles, fumbling to sit up. He finds his other arm is also stuck, wedged in between your waist and the couch.
"Sure made yourself comfortable, huh?" You tease, scooting forward and freeing him.
"Shut up." Derek reluctantly pulls away from you, sitting up and looking at you with a dazed expression. He wipes the drool from the corner of his mouth and groans. That really was a good nap.
"It's just so easy to fall asleep on you." The words come out before he can really think over them, and he freezes in embarrassment. Thankfully, you seem to take it in a different way than he meant it.
"Oh, am I that boring? I put you to sleep?"
"Exactly. I'm yawning already." He teases, letting out an exaggerated yawn that only earns him an elbow to the ribs.
"Hmph. Next time you can fall asleep somewhere else."
"But you're so damn comfortable." He whines, scrambling after you as you make your way upstairs. You can't leave him yet. You just can't.
"Well, your bed is plenty comfortable as well. Go to sleep."
Derek is suddenly struck with a thought, and takes your hand before you can slip away into your room for the night.
"What if..." He starts, placing his other hand on your hip and pulling you a little closer.
"What if I don't want to sleep in my bed tonight?"
You give him an incredulous look, and Derek can hardly believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Fuck, you're going to reject him. He just knows it.
"My bed?" You ask, raising an eyebrow and looking down at the way his hand is gripping your hip.
Derek can hear his heart pounding in his ears. He's being WAY too forward, and probably seems like a creep. Damnit.
"I... I just won't be able to sleep without you. I know it." He stutters, stumbling over his words. It's the truth, though. The only time he's been able to sleep peacefully lately is when he's touching you.
"Derek, love..." You chuckle and start to brush his hands away, taking a step back.
Fuck. He needs to show you how serious he is about this.
"Please? Just for tonight?" He grabs both of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his as he meets your gaze. You said he has puppy-eyes or something, right? Derek does his best to look pitiful.
It's not hard to do. He really does feel pitiful in this moment, begging you so blatantly. He might as well get on his fucking knees.
"Fine." You finally relent, groaning and gently shoving Derek aside as you head into your bedroom.
"But I hope you know I kick in my sleep."
"I don't mind taking that risk."
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
After quickly getting ready for bed, you settle down under the covers while Derek stands awkwardly to the side.
"Well? You gonna join me?" You ask, patting the spot next to you.
God, how did you get roped into this? Him and those damn puppy eyes. He's so hard to say no to.
"Oh, uh, yeah." Derek scrambles to climb into bed beside you. He looks like he's having just as much trouble believing what's happening.
"Sleeping with you wasn't really in my job description, you know. I'm complaining to your mother after this."
"Please don't." He groans, squirming and getting comfortable under the shared blanket. He keeps his distance, seeming content just to be in the same bed as you.
"You gonna sleep in that?" You lift the blanket to peek at his outfit, a simple t-shirt and sweatpants.
"Yeah? What's wrong with it?" He pouts and tugs the blanket back down, acting self-conscious.
"Nothing, just... You aren't going to be hot?"
"Are you trying to get me to take my pants off, sweetheart?"
"God, no. I've seen enough of that."
Your teasing clearly gets to him, because he rolls over to face away from you, grumbling. You swear his ears are a little pink. Is he blushing?
"Oh, love. I'm just messing with you." You scoot a little closer to him, and put a hand on his waist.
"I know." He whispers, breath hitched.
"Is it okay if I do this?"
He groans when you get even closer, spooning him from behind. Your arm wraps around his waist and you press your entire body against his.
"M-maybe I will get hot..." He mumbles, but makes no effort to push you away. Instead, he completely melts under your touch, relaxing against the pillow.
"Keep your pants on, Danforth."
"Yes ma'am."
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
Derek has been in bed with you for what feels like hours, (though really only around half of one), and he still can't believe what's happening.
Your arm is around his waist, holding him tight while the rest of your body is pressed up against him. He can feel your breasts pressing into his back, and your lips on his neck.
He almost wishes you'd kiss him, but that would probably send him over the edge.
And God, is he dangerously close to the edge right now.
His heart is pounding, heartbeat in synch with the throbbing in his pants. He's been hard ever since you cuddled up to him, but no way in hell is he going to ask you to stop. Not ever. Even if it kills him.
Scratch that. It is going to kill him. Derek can't help but let out a whimper as his dick twitches in his sweatpants.
Fuck. Your hand is right there, on his stomach. If you'd just slide it down a little...
"What's wrong?" You mumble, giving him a tight squeeze and nuzzling against the back of his neck.
"O-oh. Just... headache... Don't feel good..."
He feels like a total prick for lying to you, but what is he supposed to say? Yeah, totally fine, just horny as fuck? He'd rather die.
"Aww... I've got you, love."
Derek's breath hitches as you throw your leg over him. He can feel your thigh pressed up against his side, and the way you squeeze him feels heavenly.
He whimpers again, and starts to squirm slightly in your grasp. Fuck, if you keep this up he's not going to be able to control himself.
You continue to gently squeeze, rub, and cuddle him, whispering words of comfort with your lips pressed against the back of his neck. He can feel your hot breath on him, your breasts against his back, your hand on his stomach, your leg wrapped around his...
He can feel everything. And it's driving him insane.
Okay, okay, fuck. He can fix this. He just needs a quick release. That's all.
Derek starts to form a plan in his head, fueled by desperation and lust. Once he's mostly sure you're asleep, he slips his hand down into his boxers.
Biting back a moan, he slowly starts to jerk himself off. Painfully slow. He can't risk waking you up.
It's so fucking hard to not go faster, or move, or make a sound. Fuck, it's just so hard. Period.
He didn't really think this through, huh? Asking to sleep in your bed. Next time he'll jerk off first. If there is a next time. Damnit. If you catch him like this, you'll never speak to him again. He's sure.
Trembling, he accidentally lets a small whine slip out. Even with the absolute minimum amount of stimulation, he's close to finishing.
"Hnngh... Derek? You okay?"
Fuck. You're awake.
"Huh? Yeah, just... nightmare..." He chokes the words out, hand still wrapped around his cock as he slowly milks out a steady trickle of precum.
"It's okay." You whisper, holding him even tighter. "I'm right here."
Yeah, and that's the his damn problem. Your words and touch send him spiraling over the edge, and he bites his lip with nearly enough force to draw blood as he comes in his sweatpants.
It's not the most satisfying orgasm, seeing as he could barely touch it... but it still feels so much better than being that fucking horny with no release.
"Thank you..." Derek groans, praying that you don't ever discover the double meaning behind his words.
He had originally planned to sneak away and clean himself up, but with the way you're clinging to him...
Fuck. Guess he's sleeping in wet sweatpants.
─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────
Author's note: Oh my goddd, sorry for such a long wait on this chapter!!! I've been wanting to write this scene FOREVER, but I also wanted to get it right!!
I love putting Derek in uncomfortable situations. Not sorry.
Also its crazy to me that I've written 16 thousand words of fanfic for a character that had 20 minutes of screen time and then fucking DIED 💀
Anyways... expect the next chapter in 2-3 days. Thanks for all the love and support!!!
Part 6
177 notes · View notes
ever8ea · 4 months
Note
Humbly requesting male reader x Luke castellan smut 🙏🙏🙏
Hi lovely! I’ve never written M/M, so sorry if this isn’t exactly right. Hope you enjoy!
Seven Minutes in Heaven : Luke Castellan x Reader
/Nsfw; Heavy makeout, language, alcohol, etc.
Reader is amab <3
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“Sorry… what?” I had asked, bewildered, for the millionth time.
“Seven minutes in heaven! I can’t believe you haven’t heard of it,” Silena replied with mock offence.
“I can,” Annabeth piped up from behind her book. “He doesn’t know anything.” Percy made a sound of agreement from beside her.
“Hey!” I said. “It’s not my fault! So sorry I’m not a degenerate like you three,” I grumbled.
“Gods, They are so weird,” Clarisse said to Luke quietly, rolling her eyes. Though evidently not quietly enough judging by the glares she received. “Hey, I’m not wrong, that game sounds absolutely horrible”
***
So, that’s how I ended up sitting in a circle with a couple of uncomfortable halfbloods in cabin 10. The teens had still been mostly sober until Annabeth, reluctantly, had reminded Silena that for their game of ‘seven minutes in heaven’ they needed a bottle. So she brought down a bottle of Firewhiskey one of her siblings had stashed in their dorm. But since she was worried about spilling on the carpet, they had all passed the bottle around until it was empty.
The first to spin was Clarisse, for her previous comment, and much to her chagrin, she ended up with Percy. Clarisse had made a face of disgust, and promptly walked out of the cabin. She didn’t come back for the rest of the night, to Percy’s relief.
“Alright Luke, your turn,” Silena grinned, bumping his shoulder.
Carefully, Luke leaned forward on his knees, spinning the bottle. It turned for what felt like years, though must have been no more that five seconds. It landed on me. Because of course it did.
Luke fixed me with a lopsided smirk, which was truely unreadable, as it was Luke’s reaction to nearly everything.
Unfortunately, Luke knows about my crush on him. Last summer, I had a little to much fun at a bonfire, and let it slip. Luke pretended to not notice, but I could tell he heard.
Since then, harsh words and mild cruelty had been my protection. My way of pretending that everything was normal.
And now I was about to be locked in closet with him. Fuck.
The group did their fair share of oohing and awing before eventually shutting us in there together. Thankfully, the closet was not too tight, though it was a little warm, but that could have just been me.
We both just stood there, and eventually Luke moved to lean against the wall. This gave me a wonderful and dangerous view of the other boy. Earlier in the night Luke had ditched his camp shirt, being left in only his thin white undershirt and camp necklace. The thick string and beads hung loosely around Luke’s neck, teasing me.
Luke, as if he could hear my thoughts, cracked his neck, a finger tugging on the neckline of his shirt. My breath quickened. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths in an attempt to stop my beating heart.
“What? Don’t like small spaces?”
“No, actually. I don’t. And if it weren’t for your stupid idea to convince everyone that we needed to play this game I wouldn’t be stuck in here! Though, I suppose I can’t blame you for doing stupid things, you can’t help it. It’s in your nature.”
That may have been a bit harsh, as it had really been Silena’s decision but whatever. I was stuck in close quarters with Luke and if he keeps reminding me how much I like him, I might do something I would regret.
“Aw,” Luke pouted. “Always so mean to me.”
The two went silent.
It was relatively dark in here, but I could still make out Luke’s warm brown eyes and the way they were trained directly on me. He looked me up and down before staring at him through his long, dark lashes. He took a step forward.
“Luke, don’t look at me like that.”
I took a step back.
“Look at you like what?” Luke’s voice was low and soft like velvet. It wrapped around me, urging me to lean in closer. He took another step forward.
“Like you’re going to do something stupid.”
Another step back.
“Well, like you said, I can’t help it. It’s in my nature.”
A step forward. A step back.
“W- that’s not what I meant!”
He stepped back into the wall. Fuck.
Luke grinned at my predicament, stepping into my personal space. “Oh, so you take it back then?”
“No! Of course not. You arrogant jerk,”
Eyes closed, Luke let out a shaky breath, teeth embedded in his bottom lip. I thought this reaction was rather odd. I could not understand what had happened to Luke until he opened his eyes to reveal they were nearly black, pupils blown wide.
Oh. Oh.
“Luke…”
“Shhh, see what you do to me?” he slipped a knee between my thighs, causing our clothed cocks to brush. Both boys groaned.
“Luke,” it came out as more of a whine this time, much to my horror.
Luke leaned closer, his warm breath fanning over my face. It smelled of Firewhiskey and mint. I couldn’t get enough of it.
“Luke…”
That drew my attention down to his mouth and… nope. Oh no. His perfect lips were just right there. They were parted and slightly wet as if he’d just licked them. I thought I should have been the one to lick them…
No.
I needed to look away. I really did, but l couldn’t. And suddenly he was leaning closer, and suddenly their lips were touching. And then it was more than their lips. My hands were somehow wound around those oh so soft chocolate curls I’d always dreamed of running my fingers through. And Luke was gripping onto the front of my camp shirt, pulling the two closer (if that was even possible).
Our mouths worked against each other, drawing the most embarrassing sounds from me. I swiped my tongue across Luke’s bottom lip. And then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Luke pulled away slightly, breathing heavily.
“Are you sure about this?” Luke asked, voice strained.
“Gods, yes.”
I pulled Luke in this time and, Gods, it was even better than the first. I twisted my fingers into his hair and pulled. Luke moaned, he fucking moaned into my mouth. And, fuck, what I would do to hear Luke make that sound again.
Luke pushed his hips forward into mine and my restraint melted away completely. I grabbed Luke furiously, needing to touch every part of him that I could, but it wasn’t enough. I moved to tug Luke’s shirt up and-
“Alright boys, seven minutes are up!”
A/n : This was such a fun one to write! Please keep the requests coming, I love them sm
179 notes · View notes
tiesthatbind-tf · 11 months
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If you’re on a desktop, please full-view these lads if possible! Tumblr  compressed the hell out of the preview unfortunately, but so much love was poured into them that it’ll be a shame if y’all didn’’t full view for the goods ;u;b (click, then right-click and open image in new tab!)
I’ve always held a deep fascination of for the Lambros, though for whatever reason, media beyond G1 seem allergic to actually making them brothers, or at least brothers who LIVE till the end and have something resembling a healthy/active relationship, so it was something I wanted to explore with TTB’s version of The Lads--Serafino and Sergio Saverio--who, despite being Twins, are very distinct individuals (Sideswipe in particular has a narrative focused on self-realization after a past of being constantly second best/in Sunstreaker’s shadow, and establishing healthy boundaries, even with those closest to you) with their own occasionally intertwining stories
They’re the team’s Battlefield Hellions, a pair of Feral Elric Brothers willing to punch open multiple Gates of Truth for each other, and who despite their flaws---especially Avowed Bastard Sunstreaker, whose protectiveness and care for Sideswipe is, at times, seemingly his only saving grace---will never have anyone questioning their love for each other. 
You can find their (2881 words, this one’s a doozy!) pre-war full story below the cut! 
Born to a Manual Class couple in the Little Italy neighbourhood of Lower Manhattan, the Saverio Twins could have easily gone the path of Cain and Abel, and given the lopsided treatment they received from their parents as children, it was a miracle that they didn’t. 
Serafino Saverio — hair kissed by the sun — was the much-welcomed firstborn upon whom their hopes were pinned on. 
Sergio Saverio – hair tainted with blood – was the surprise second and didn’t even have a name until after a week of his birth (he could only assume they were hoping he didn’t make it that long, being the twin with ‘complications’) as the unplanned and unwanted spare mouth to feed in a household which had always been intended for a family of three, and not a day of his young life passed that he wasn’t reminded by his parents that they had kept him as a favor.
The favoritism was as blatant as it was malicious when it came to food, praises and gifts—all of which were afforded to Serafino, all of which were an afterthought for Sergio who always took everything with a smile, having been told to simply be thankful he had a family, and that Serafino had to come first.
However, Sergio’s treatment didn’t go unnoticed or ignored by Serafino—sharp and cunning for his age—who began to question why his brother had less than him, why his brother was beaten for doing the things which he himself would simply be given a stern talking to, why his mother’s tone fell and rose so drastically between her sons and why his father never had a kind word for a boy who constantly bent over backwards for a fraction of the love they afforded him. 
The aching sadness the older twin saw in his brother’s eyes when they were seven and had received their birthday gifts—a beautiful hand-crafted wooden sword for him, a cheap gas station tin Lamborghini for Sergio—gave birth to childhood defiance as he exchanged his gift with Sergio to the surprised dismay of their parents who were stuck awkwardly trying to explain why he couldn’t do that and why they saw it fit to treat two brothers so differently on they day they were born together, only seconds apart. 
It was here that the seed was planted of Serafino’s protectiveness over Sergio–his best friend, his playmate, his shadow—and Sergio’s near-unwavering loyalty to Serafino—his defender, his confidante and the only one of their family who truly cared for him. 
They grew up tight as thieves as Serafino’s disgust at their parents’ attempts to drive a wedge in between them burned ever brighter, because if they would not treat his brother the same as he, then he would act out in defiance until they treated him the same way they treated Sergio out of sheer frustration. 
They walked hand in hand in the streets, always looking out for each other, and sparred fist to fist on the apartment rooftop where they would learn to fight together because the world wasn’t kind to little Manuals—and they had the cuts and bruises to show for it—but from up here where that world seemed so small beneath them, they could dare to dream of a better one where Sergio could be the dashing fighter Serafino’s sword allowed him to see himself as, and where Serafino would be able to one day own and drive a car similar to the little model he had traded that sword for.
School was no more kind to them than the streets were—at twelve, Serafino had learned to read the people around him and kept an aloof and guarded presence, but Sergio — eager for warmth and connection — forged friendships openly and recklessly, class divisions be damned.
His perceived insolence to The Way Things Were earned him the ire of a group of law enforcement prodigy picks when he befriended a girl among their ranks, and they set out to teach him a vicious lesson about staying in his lane despite her protestations. 
He fought back hard, but it was Serafino’s fury that was unmatched when the older twin came across the assault in progress and leapt into the fray to back him up. 
When the dust had settled, the brothers stood tall among the twitching bodies of five prodigy picks, the leader of the group beaten up so severely by Serafino that their dislocated jaw had to be wired shut for a month. 
Serafino earned the scar on his jaw from this altercation, and as the twin who had dealt the most damage, was suspended from schooling indefinitely and put to work to help pay off the medical bills forced upon his family despite open confirmation from the girl at the center of the fight that the brothers’ role in it was that of self-defense (and it was reasoned that if he was so quick with his hands, he best put them to a more productive use). 
His reputation as a pugnacious, split-knuckled hellion preceded him among the rough-and-tumble warehouse workers he was stationed with, and, for better or worse, they accepted him into the fold as ‘one of the lads’ despite his youth.
Over beer and cigarette smoke—a vice he embraced too early—he became privy to how truly hopeless their lives were, born in the same class as their parents and their grandparents before them, destined to die in the same class no matter how hard they worked to climb a ladder whose rungs seemed to increase every year, and it made him all the more bitter to the world. 
When he crossed paths with one Tulio Hoffman — a stag Beastman attempting to evade authorities in an alley — while on his way back to the workers’ hostel, he made a split-second decision to cover the man’s tracks and pointed the cops elsewhere out of spite for them. His chutzpah, as Tulio called it, earned him the Stagman’s respect, and having seen the calluses on his palms and the crowbar he wielded with unusual expertise for his age, Tulio—who revealed himself as the elusive Thunderhoof, an up and rising don— extended a hand to him with the promise of a better life, one that didn’t require him to slave away in a warehouse for an eternity. 
He agreed, seeing a chance to wrest the life he wanted for himself—and by proxy his brother— by force, and pledged loyalty to Thunderhoof who initially employed him as a scout and informant. It was work Serafino excelled in — his relentlessness to get the job done won the Stagman over, and he was quickly promoted to Thunderhoof’s personal assistant, following the don on business deals and clandestine meetings across the city and helping the man keep his ledgers and income on track.
He experienced the High Life for the first time—fine clothes, good food, a fast car—and it was a lifestyle he grew an insatiable taste for and was desperate to keep for himself (attempts at sharing this life with Sergio were politely declined, and there was an understanding of their different approaches to climbing out of the dregs, even if they did not always agree with the others' methods)
The big money Thunderhoof made from taking part in illegal pitfights seemed like a natural progression given his prodigious skill with fisticuffs, and his first win when he was 18 was one the Stagman—who had taken on the role of a somewhat twisted adoptive father—celebrated and honored by gifting him the neck chain he wore, which also served as a symbolic gesture from Thunderhoof that the business would one day be passed to him. Serafino continued his career as a much-feared pitfighter with a rumored body count— the dreaded ‘Aureleone’ (Golden Lion) of the rings — all the while rising up the ranks of Thunderhoof’s mob until he was the man’s underboss, and keeping an eye out for Sergio like any good big brother worth their salt.
Sergio’s scar above his eyebrow remains a daily reminder of the day the system came for him and his brother, and while he was allowed to remain in school, he was transferred to a heavily-manual establishment which would ‘better suit those like him’. 
The situation at home became even more unbearable than it already was, as his parents blamed Serafino’s downfall on his carelessness and stupidity—despite Serafino’s assertion that the bullies deserved everything that happened to them and he would reoffend on sight if they hurt Sergio again—and he began to spend more and more time outside, visiting Serafino at work whenever he could to repeat the day’s lesson during breaks so his brother still had access to education and sneaking into worker’s rallies by the docks. 
It was here that he was drawn to the music and effortless charisma of a young dock worker and union figurehead, Jace Zayden (Jazz), which whom he struck up a friendship, and where Thunderhoof brought Serafino deeper into the underbelly of the city to escape the system, Jace gave him hope that change could happen on the surface, in the sun. 
After a blowout with his parents when he was 16 where they’d made it clear he should never have been born, he finally left the house. Not wanting to burden Serafino who had already suffered enough for him in his eyes or be indebted to Thunderhoof (who he respected for taking care of his brother, but understood was a dangerous man with an agenda), he roomed with Jace who had taken on the role of his mentor and helped him find employment as a warehouse worker so he could save up to afford rent for his own place once he was old enough to sign a lease. His nights were divided between helping Serafino with supply runs and stock-checking for Thunderhoof’s contraband goods, and joining Jace at union meetings as well as helping the man with his activism and protest plans. 
When Jace was arrested after a brutal crackdown on a workers’ rally and never came back to the neighborhood, Sergio feared the worst but wasted no time stepping into Jace’s position when their local union chapter began to flounder so he could continue their fight for a better life. 
Like his brother, he had become intimately acquainted with the injustice perpetuated by the neverending cycle of poverty their class was intentionally, systematically trapped in, but rather than abandon it and the people in it as Serafino had chosen to do, he wanted to help break it so his community could rise above it with him. 
As the most prominent figurehead of an unprecedented, rising tide of unionization in Manhattan  which started from across the pond in the UK, he was marked out as a person of interest by local officials desperate to keep the status quo, and his increasing clashes with local cops tasked with bringing those behind these ‘public disturbances’ to heel brought him in contact with a face he remembered from his school days—the same upperclass girl he had tried to befriend, whose testimony had helped keep him and Serafino out of juvie and who was now a tough-as-nails rookie with a reputation for breaking ranks. 
Stella Armstrong (Strongarm) was more than a little surprised to find out that the scrawny, bright-eyed Manual scrapper who had suddenly disappeared from her classroom after the Big Fight was now a feisty, quick-talking, hot-tempered rabble-rouser with a careless smirk and a witty comeback for every police warning lobbed at him. 
Regardless of his teasing and her scoldings for the ‘trouble’ he made for her whenever they crossed paths, Sergio kept eye out for her on the streets—good cops didn’t last long in the ranks, he knew this much—and vouched for her being an ‘honest one’ whenever she was stonewalled for information regarding her cases. 
In turn, Stella spoke out in defense of him whenever her colleagues brought him in and attempted to remand him for a period much longer than the minor infractions he was hauled in for could justify, and stopped any attempted violence on him and his community in lockup, making enemies among the force in the process.
When several prominent union supporters began turning up dead to the radio silence of the police, Sergio approached Stella for help in investigating the matter, and she agreed to do so after finding out that reports filed on the murders had been closed before any investigations had wrapped up. 
She gave him a burner cell to keep their communications private after the two agreed that something about the situation smelled like a cover-up.
All of this was confirmed when Stella called him with a warning that the killings were tied to the current mayor who had pro-functionist ties, cops on payroll and was desperate for a re-election in the coming month.
She had also found documents approving the use of Mnemosurgery on a list of union figureheads to turn them into Trojan Horses on their own movement and communities—a list which Sergio’s name headed, which meant he had to go into hiding before the next minor infraction brought him back to lockup. 
When she couldn't give him an answer on if the breach of classified information could be traced back to her, he feared for the worst again—the unsolved fate of Jace still hung heavy in his mind—more so when further calls he made to her went to voicemail. 
The next call Sergio received from her sent him on a hunt for her in the winding alleys of Brooklyn, where he found her bleeding out from a through-and-through gunshot wound to the stomach she received from her own colleague, after it was revealed that the drug bust she was a part of was a front to get her in a vulnerable position so they could take her out.
Her refusal to back the thin blue line at all costs, newfound knowledge of wide-spread corruption in the ranks and growing friendship with a ‘target’ had made her a liability, one they had orders to get rid of. 
He raced her to a back-alley clinic, unable to bring her to the local GH because of the real danger of the rest of the force coming over to finish the job. 
Stella survived the ordeal with his help, and the two of them went into hiding together to plan their next move; As she had never turned off her body camera, she had damning evidence of the hit which she had immediately downloaded to the burner cell for safekeeping in case the footage was later remotely wiped, and she had taken pictures of the documents beforehand. 
To Sergio’s surprise, help came from two unexpected places; Jace, who returned from self-exile in the UK after it was discovered that the same thing planned for Sergio had earlier been planned for him, and Serafino, who had broken the Mafia Code and put aside mob work and pitfighting the moment he caught wind of the target on his baby brother’s back. (When Thunderhoof had demanded that his loyalty to the mob come before his loyalty to his brother if he were to take over the mantle of Don, he balked at the idea)
As it turned out, Jace was part of the Resistance movement back in the UK which had branched out worldwide and inspired the rising workers’ protests in the States as well, and worked as a saboteur who had experience in exposing corrupt men in power for filth. 
Stella’s near-death experience and the ongoing risk to her life made a strong case for her filming a dying confession which Sergio delivered along with her body cam footage to her father, who then passed both to an attorney whose services her family had employed to find justice for their ‘missing’ daughter. 
The documents and list made it to the ACLU’s New York office, while Serafino and Jace both worked on a sting to catch the mayor red-handed, as they posed as bounty hunters looking to collect on Sergio’s head. As Sergio played his role as defiant captive and tactically bandied words with the mayor to lead the man to a full confession, Jace’s colleague, Brandon Shen (Blaster) hacked major digital billboards at Times Square to air the footage in real-time, destroying the man’s name and political career in the span of fifteen minutes. 
Regardless of their victories however, both Sergio and Stella had become far too big of targets to remain where they were, and Jace offered to bring them all into the Resistance’s fold. 
Sergio, for his own safety, had to hand over the reins of leadership to a new leader of the Manhattan Movement, though his community, knowing full well the risk he had put himself through for them, encouraged him to find safe harbor with Jace’s team mates who could afford him the protection he needed. .
He had carried on Jace’s work when Jace had to leave, and there would be others to continue the work here.
Serafino, chafing harder and harder against the control that Thunderhoof was rapidly losing on him, threw all caution against the wind, chose the codename Sunstreaker and joined his brother. --now codenamed Sideswipe -- as the new frontliners of the wider Resistance movement.
Whether he would come to regret the decision was still up in the air, but brothers stuck together, and the path ahead was one both of them would forge back to back with each other as fate damn well intended. 
743 notes · View notes
avis-writeshq · 1 year
Text
miya atsumu – a lovely night
genre&warnings: rated 16+ for enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and slowburn; mentions of eating and unsafe usage of cooking knives!! fem!reader
a/n: it was meant to be a small drabble but i got carried away lmao (i’ve also been working on this for more than a year so my peep my writing style changes LMFAOOO)
w/c: 10k exact
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“i hate it here.”
“you say that every morning,” aneko chuckled, tying her hair up in a ponytail. “what happened this time?”
“i have a biology presentation soon and i’m not looking forward to it.” you side-eyed the window, watching as students begin filing out of their dorm rooms and into the walkways that lead to the campus. 
aneko sighed, patting your shoulder. “you’ll do fine. you do well in every presentation, you know that.”
a lopsided smile made its way onto your face as you shrug your bag over your shoulder. “thanks, aneko… i’m gonna get some coffee. you want anything?”
she shook her head ‘no’, and you shrugged, making your way down the stairs, crossing the dormitories to the cafe next to the campus. 
as soon as you took your place in line, a scalding sensation erupts through your shirt and all over your chest, and you jump back in shock and pain. 
“what the hell?” you demand, hissing as the coffee burned your skin. unfortunately, the perpetrator is nowhere to be found, seemingly fleeing the scene. the last thing you see of the person is a volleyball jacket and piss-coloured hair. 
gritting your teeth in frustration, you storm out of the cafe, ignoring the cries of the cafe staff and trailing after him. “oi! piss hair! you little…” a grunt escapes your lips as he makes a turn, disappearing into the sea of students. 
eyes narrowing into slits, you marched your way back to your dorm, throwing the door open. 
“what happened to you?” sakura frowned, getting up from her seat on the couch. “oh, and aneko’s on her date.”
“first of all,” you scowled, dumping your bags on the ground and retreating to the bathroom, “if you ever see a piss-haired brat, punch them in the face for me.”
“piss-haired brat,” she rolled her eyes in amusement before asking, “are you alright, (y/n)?”
tugging the shirt over your head, you stormed back out into the kitchen. “i have a biology presentation in an hour, i had boiling coffee spill on me and the guy didn’t even apologise! and now aneko has to go and flaunt her non-singleness to the world!”
“well, that guy is a douchebag,” she hummed. “and you know you always get the highest score in biology, so that’s not an issue for you. oh and you’re never going to guess what kou-chan told me!”
you raise an unsuspecting eyebrow, “what?”
she squeals, her hand clapping in excitement. “they knows someone who needs a date! he’s looking for a partner!”
your nose scrunched in distaste, “you set me up with six dates since last september and it’s only the beginning of january. do i really want your help in finding a date?”
“i know someone. trust me on this, okay?” she pats your shoulder and smooths out your hair. “are you free tomorrow night?”
“i think so…” you eye her wearily. “i’m trusting you, got it?”
she grins, the smile stretching across her face in excitement, “i won’t let you down! oh, you should start heading to biology.”
you nod, “alright… i’ll see you later. it’s your turn to buy groceries, so don’t forget!” 
shooting you a thumbs up, sakura goes back to her fashion magazine, and you close the dorm door. maybe the day would get better? it can only go up from here… right? shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, you half-jog to the lecture hall, clutching at the strap of your shoulder bag. the hall is already half-filled with people reading over their notes, doing last-minute editing, and practising. 
finding a seat near the middle, you began taking out all your notes from your bag. as you read through your entire presentation, the chair beside you screeched as someone took a seat there. 
glancing up at the person to say a quick greeting and then you realised — “you!”
you bolted up from your seat, your eyes narrowed and the chair screeched as it dragged against the floor. he gapes, watching you stand.
“the hell ya talkin’ about?”
“you–” you flinched as the sharp hushing of students met your ears and you bowed sheepishly in apology. you turned back to the smug-looking brat, hissing your explanations. “the main issue is the fact that you spilled hot coffee on me. what’s worse is how you didn’t even apologise!” 
he chuckled, “i see. you’re just a fan who wants attention! okay, you can watch our volleyball practice–”
“i don’t want to watch your stupid volleyball practice!” you snapped, gathering your books and shoving them into your bag. “unless you want to apologise, i don’t want to see your ugly face and piss hair.”
“hey–”
flipping him off as discreetly as possible, you stalked your way over to the other side of the lecture hall, sitting in between two students. 
one raised their eyebrow at you. “is miya atsumu your boyfriend?”
you scoffed, muttering under your breath, “atsumu? what a shitty name…” you turn back to them, “no, he’s not my boyfriend. if he was, he would be dead by now.”
they nod, eyebrows raised, before turning back to their notes. 
you, on the other hand, were left to your thoughts. miya? where have you heard that name before? and why the hell did he look so familiar?
*** 
“oi–”
“are you going to apologise?” you asked, not looking at him as you pack up your things after your successful presentation. “listen, buddy, i'm in a good mood. something i don’t want you screwing up.”
“i’m not here to apologise,” he huffed, “but maybe i can make it up to you?”
“i only want an apology, sweet cheeks,” a sarcastic smile bloomed on your face, and you patted his cheek snarkily. “now if you excuse me, i would like to get the coffee i couldn’t get this morning.”
“i’ll treat you,” atsumu offered and you shot him a glare.
“sure. i’ll take an apology with a side of sincerity.”
the smile on your face grew wider and you walked out of the lecture room and into the throng of students. 
*** 
“i sure hope that this date of mine is as good as you say…” you hummed, searching through your bag to make sure you have everything. “why does it have to be at this fancy restaurant again?”
“because the guy just so happens to be extra,” sakura says, taking a left turn and parking in front of a tall building. “you are wearing the heels i gave you right?”
you nodded begrudgingly, recalling how she forced you to wear them before you left your dorm.
she squealed, her bright blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “okay, so here’s the rundown. the restaurant is ise sueyoshi–”
“i’m sorry, ise sueyoshi, as in one of the most expensive restaurants in all of tokyo?”
“i tried to talk him out of it,” she defended, grimacing at the thought of the bill. “look, it’ll be fine. just don’t think about it, okay? after the restaurant, you’ll take a nice walk around the city! oh, and i’m confiscating your keys.”
you blanched, “what, why?”
“so that you can’t ditch him halfway. no one is going to be home until your date is over, so there’s no reason for you to ditch.” she grinned, “you’ll be fine! he’s a good guy, trust me on this.”
you groaned in annoyance but pushed the car door open. “i’ll call you when i get inside the restaurant.”
she beamed, yelling, “the reservation is under hasegawa sakura!” before driving off into the distance. 
a sigh left your lips as you stomp your way inside the building, taking the lift to the 11th floor. after entering the restaurant, you take a seat, looking at the bright city of tokyo below you. 
“what a view, huh?”
no. you scowled, looking up at atsumu. “i’ve seen better.”
he shrugged, taking the seat in front of you and swirling his cup of wine around. “so yer my blind date. i would have thought that sakura had better friends.” 
you sneered as you rose from your seat. “i was thinking the same thing. the only reason i’m on this stupid date is because of her, anyway.”
he grinned, and you felt a chill run down your spine as he says, “so ya asked her to set’cha up with me? very cute, sweetheart, but if ya wanted to go on a date with me, ya could have just asked.”
you scoffed, “i know full well about your reputation with girls, sweetheart. they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts. besides, why the hell would i be attracted to someone like you?”
atsumu flinched at the honesty in your voice. do people really see him as some dream crusher heart breaker? “listen, sweet cheeks–” he relished in the way your cheeks darken at his words– “i am a great person.”
“yes, because every ‘great person’ flaunts about it in the hallways. yes, miya, you’re a great person.” the sarcasm rolled off your tongue fluidly, and he can’t help but roll his eyes when you speak again. “i lost my appetite. excuse me.”
he bolted up from his seat, eyes wide as you throw your bag over your shoulder and make your way out of the restaurant. “woah, woah, woah. do ya know how hard it was to get a reservation here? i even got a suit for this!”
“no, i don’t know how hard it was to get a reservation here. and this is just further proof you’re an asshole. you want to show off your money to some random stranger, knowing entirely that it’s a blind date.” you fake a smile and bow to the staff members.
atsumu faltered in  his step before continuing to run after you. “okay, listen–”
“no, i am not going to listen, because the only thing that comes out of your mouth is bullshit. come on sakura, pick up…” 
“(l/n)–”
“stop! okay, just… just stop.” your nostrils flared, and you turned around to shoot him a venomous glare. “i don’t care about you or your dumb polyester suit–”
“it’s wool.”
“–but you have to be stupid to think that i’d ever fall for you.” 
he groaned, wiping his face in frustration. “we’re both doing this for sakura so can ya just cooperate for one damn night?”
you grit your teeth, eyeing him carefully, “okay. just one night.”
*** 
“i have t’ask,” atsumu begins, your bag thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. “why are ya on this date anyway? woulda thought that someone as charming as you would have had a date by now.”
“i could ask you the same question,” you quip, eyes fixated on the bright city lights that you could see from the aoyama bridge. “it’s not important anyway.”
he shrugged, “just wanted to know why.”
“both sakura and aneko have boyfriends. it kind of sucks to be the third wheel all the time. they give me hell for not doing anything on friday nights, too,” you shrug, “i mean, it’s not a big deal.”
atsumu snorts at your words. “so you want a date for the sake of having a date?”
“i want a date for the sake of not being lonely,” you correct, “but i think i’m going to have to be lonely for the time being.”
“an’ why do you think that?” a lazy smirk rests on his lips. “i’d be a perfect boyfriend.”
“yeah, that’d appeal to someone who believes in romance,” you laugh, patting his cheek and taking your bag off him. 
to miya atsumu, life is a competition to be the best. who can win the most volleyball games? who can get the highest test result? who can eat the most onigiris from onigiri miya without taking breaks? life to him is a competition. it’s a race to the finish line and the person who gets there first is the winner. and what you just said? it sounds an awful lot like a challenge.
“alright then,” he grins at you, “i’ll make you fall in love with me by… say, end of june.”
“what’s that going to do for you? give you an ego boost?” you roll your eyes, “i’m not doing that.”
“scared, sweetheart?”
crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot him a glare. “no, i’m not. but i hope you realise that i am frankly feeling nothing.”
“is that so?”
“mmm, no. in fact, it could be less than nothing.” 
he chuckles, “good to know. so, you agree?”
“that this is a waste of a lovely night? yes.”
“you know what i mean. if i can make you fall in love with me by the end of june, you have to be my girlfriend.” 
you snort in response, “if i didn’t know any better, miya, i’d say you’re in love with me.” 
he rolls his eyes, clearly ignoring your first remark. “alright then, choose your prize if you’re so confident.”
“if you fall in love with me…” you hum an evil glint in your eye, “i get total and full control over your social media.”
he smirks, holding out his hand for you to shake. “anything for you, princess.”
*** 
to you, life was about survival. don’t die, don’t mess up, don’t be a failure. that also meant ‘don’t get lonely, because that just screws things up for everyone’. aneko had eito, her boyfriend since high school, and sakura had taniguchi kou, the manager for the ejp volleyball team. that must have been how she even had connections to miya atsumu in the first place. survival was also not doing anything unnecessary. whether it be sleeping at ungodly hours, binge-watching an entire anime, or just studying too much, you couldn’t do that because it’ll destroy your schedule the next day. your life was based on routine. that is, it was based on routine. 
“hey, (y/n), there’s some mail for you!” aneko yells out into the dorm, waving a pristine envelope around.
you raise an eyebrow. “it’s probably junk, just throw it out!”
“i’m gonna open it, okay?” she beams at you as you crack an egg into the pan.
“knock yourself out.” 
you hum quietly to yourself as you turn off the stove and move the egg on top of your rice. grabbing a pair of chopsticks from your drawer, you cut through the egg, just as you hear a squeal.
“(y/n), oh my god, did you buy volleyball tickets? they’re vips, too!”
“what?” you push your seat back, grabbing the envelope from aneko’s hands. “i didn’t buy any volleyball tickets? it’s probably been given to the wrong person.”
“but there was a note for you in the envelope…” she frowned, “are you sure that it’s not for you?”
confusion was clear on your face as you pulled the note out, but it was replaced with a look of pure annoyance when you realised exactly who the note was from. 
‘dear: (l/n) (y/n),
see you in the stands ;)
from: atsumu <3’
a deep scowl plasters itself onto your face and you dial his number into your phone. 
“did you–”
“you absolute asshole!” you yell into your phone, swiftly cutting him off, slapping a hand against your forehead. “i’m not going to your dumb volleyball game, got it? i have things to do and places to be.”
“you and i both know that isn’t true, sweetheart,” he snorts and you can practically hear his eye roll. “you told me yourself - you don’t usually have plans on friday nights.”
you grimace because yes, you did say that. “well maybe i have plans now?” the words came out as a question and he chuckles.
“come on, it’ll be fun!” 
“we’ll see,” you mutter before hanging up. 
*** 
“i’ve never been in a proper volleyball stadium before,” aneko says as she bit into her onigiri. “i can’t believe you got vip tickets, (n/n)!”
“yeah… amazing,” you manage, a meek smile plastered on your face. 
the entire stadium looks as if a rainbow puked on it. bright, colourful posters to support the players well held high in the air by multiple people. banners hang over the stands, the team’s logo and motto drawn in neat calligraphy... the multitude of people who came to watch was overwhelming – almost every seat has been filled. 
“the first match is… black jackals versus the sendai frogs!” aneko beams as she looks at the flyer. “wow, they’re both really good. (y/n), look at them!”
forcing the flyer in front of your face, you push it away from you so you could properly read it, taking note of the team members. each of the members on both teams look good — really good. you look around yourself and chuckle, of course. no wonder it was so full. most of the fans are girls anyway. 
one girl, sporting a bright blue shirt with the words ‘go atsumu!’, happens to catch your eye. she’s a typical popular girl — false clumpy lashes that you can spot from a mile away, hair curled in obnoxious rings, and a banner that screamed ‘look at me!’. you can tell from the amused looks the people gave her that she is a common spectator at msby games. 
“that’s emiko etsudo,” aneko grumbles, catching your gaze, “she’s in my lecture and never stops talking.”
“seems to be the type,” you snort, turning back to the volleyball courts where the players began to take their places.
the black jackals are insane. even when they were just starting up you can already tell how skilled they are. each spike that hits against the glossy wooden floors sends shivers down your spine. as the game went on and got more intense, it’s clear that msby was in the lead in the fifth set. both teams won two sets each, an impressive feat in itself, and the score for the fifth set is close — 11-10 in the jackal’s favour.
soon enough, atsumu’s turn to serve came around after a quick rotation, and the cheerleaders and band immediately fell into a hush. your eyes meet with atsumu and he sends a wink your way, resulting in a high pitched shriek to resound throughout the stadium. you can hear emiko freaking out and screaming that he was winking at her, amusing you. sending a small, two-fingered salute back at atsumu, you brushed your pants down as you stood up.
“i’m gonna head off to the bathroom for a second. i’ll be right back, okay?” 
aneko nods, fully immersed in the game. letting out a tired sigh, you leave the gym, searching for the restroom. the volleyball game must have ended a lot quicker than you expected when an entire team walks past you, almost trampling you in the process. 
“well, well, well. what do we have here?” 
you groan, “miya. i’m assuming you won?”
“don’t look so excited,” he grins boyishly, and you ignore the warming of your heart as he does. “we’re gonna go get some drinks after we win. care to join?”
he slings a sweaty arm over your shoulder and you cringe, pushing his arm off. “i don’t do drinks.”
“you harassing someone, miya?” a lazy voice drawls from behind you, and you almost jump at the random voice.
“o’course not, omi-kun!” atsumu snorts, “this is (y/n)!”
“(l/n),” you correct, patting his back sarcastically, “we’re not quite there yet.”
‘omi-kun’ raises an eyebrow. “right. nice to meet you.” and with that, he followed the rest of the team into the locker room, hands stuffed into his pockets. 
“that’s a character.” you roll your eyes. “anyway, i better head back to aneko. she’s probably getting worried.”
“i’ll walk ya,” he offers, a bright smile on his face, only for it to fall within seconds. 
“miya? what’s—”
a harsh squeal meets your ears and you flinch, whipping around to see etsudo, her merch in plain view and looking like a disco ball. 
“atsumu, oh my god, you were so good out there!” her high pitched voice rings in your ears. 
“shut up—” atsumu begins, but stops short. your words echo in his head, ‘they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts’. “yeah, whatever.”
etsudo’s eyes widen and you can practically see the excitement oozing out of her. “i knew you’d love me!”
“how do you get that from— never mind,” you shake your head, a sarcastic smile on your face as you begin to walk away. “i’m gonna go. good luck with this, miya.”
“wait, hold on,” atsumu fumbles, running past etsudo and trailing behind you. “i said i would walk ya.”
“but you were having such a good time with your fangirl,” you say innocently, battering your eyelashes. “emiko etsudo, i think her name is?”
“don’t remind me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she’s gone to every game and thinks that i’m in love with her or something. spoiled pig…”
“so you don’t like her? do you hate all your fans?” you raise an eyebrow, both in curiosity and in disbelief.
he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “not all of them. you’re the only one i can tolerate.”
“smooth,” you laugh, “how many girls did you use that one on?”
“just one,” he hums, bumping his side gently against yours. 
you can’t deny the fluttering of your insides as he does and you scold yourself. this is a game to him — he doesn’t feel anything for you. 
“how nice of you,” you say, trying to ignore the growing blush on your cheeks and the heat that’s crawled up to your ears. “well, there’s aneko. i’m gonna go…”
“alright, then.” he grins, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “until next time, sweet cheeks.” 
you gape as he leaves, cheeks hot with embarrassment and surprise. “wha-”
“(y/n), oh my god, was that atsumu?” aneko demands, shaking you to answer. 
you don’t respond, trying to calm yourself down from shock, your heart racing a thousand times an hour. you don’t mean anything to him. you’re a game to him — a game that he plays just to show everyone else that he is better than them.
“(y/n)? are you okay?”
you jolt out of your trance, blinking tiredly. “oh. yeah. i’m fine.”
*** 
“atsumu-san, who was that?” hinata bounds up to him, all smiles after winning against his longtime rival. 
“(l/n) (y/n), apparently,” sakusa responds, his hands still stuffed in his pockets and a towel around his shoulders. 
“oh, she’s sakura-chan’s friend, right?” bokuto asks brightly and takes a bite of his protein bar. 
atsumu nods, mind distant as he thinks about where to take you on your next ‘date’. it wouldn't be a real date if he already bet on it, right? would a cafe work? what about a cat cafe? do you even like cats?
“oi, miya.”
he looks up to see sakusa, and he grins, “knew i’d grow on you, omi-omi~”
“your face looks gross,” he scrunches his face in disgust.
“you had a funny look on your face, atsumu-san!” hinata laughs. 
“like how taniguchi-san looks at sakura-chan!” bokuto agrees side-eying atsumu who was no longer paying attention to the conversation. 
currently, atsumu was thinking of a million ways he could win your heart. he was thinking of a million ways to get you to fall for him, all so that he can prove to you that he isn’t as bad as you think he is. he had a little over a month to get you to fall in love with him and, granted, he did spill boiling coffee over you and then proceeded to not apologise. scratching his head in thought, a lightbulb suddenly dinged in his head. there is only one person in the world who knows everything about everything. and in this case? everyone. 
*** 
“nice try. not happening,” sakura responds swiftly, turning away from the setter. “look, atsumu, you’re my friend and all, but the fact that you want to win my best friend over for the sake of your pride isn’t a good enough reason to ‘get to know her’. if anything, it makes you seem like an even shitter person than everyone perceives you to be.”
he snorts at her words, “you really are a friend of (y/n). come on, sakura-chan! i just need to know what she likes! that’s all!”
sakura grits her teeth, beginning to regret sending you on that date with this piss-haired brat. “i don’t care, atsumu. i’m not going to let you break her heart for the sake of your stupid pride. you want to use someone for your stupid experiment? fine, not my problem, but you’re going to use my best friend.”
he flinches at her icy tone, now understanding why kou-san warned him about getting on sakura’s bad side. despite her incredibly bright and sunny disposition, she really was incredibly terrifying when it came to the people that she cared about which was not good for him. next attempt? fukuhara aneko. 
“i don’t understand why you’re trying so hard,” aneko remarks as she invites atsumu into the shared apartment, “you’re doing this… because you want to be known as some dreamboat who breaks girls’ hearts left right and centre?”
“i’m doing this to prove a point,” atsumu corrects, “but when you say it that way—”
“i am not going to let you break my best friend’s heart,” aneko cuts in, taking a knife out of the knife block and waving it around halfheartedly, relishing in the way the setter flinches. “nice try, though.”
he groans in annoyance, “sakura-chan said the same thing.”
“then why are you trying?” aneko demands, frustration clear in her voice, “you’re putting all this effort in to ‘prove a point’. do you know how ridiculous you sound? what’s the real reason you want to win (y/n) over?”
at her words, atsumu falls silent. as cliche as it seemed, you were interesting to him. you’re different, and at his thoughts, the volleyball player cringes internally. to be entirely fair, and to give you credit, you stood your ground around him which was admirable, to say the least. unlike the other ‘spoiled pigs’, you actually have some sort of awareness. maybe he… 
he shakes his head, snorting quietly. as if he attracted to someone the likes of you. 
“i’ll figure it out myself,” atsumu concludes, avoiding aneko’s unimpressed gaze. “she has to fall for me at some point. does she have any social media?”
“i thought you said that you’ll figure it out yourself,” aneko responds drily. “why don’t you just ask her yourself? let me guess; your pride?"
to atsumu, that sounded a whole lot like a challenge. 
*** 
for a friday morning, you were surprisingly busy, especially because of all the practice exams you’ve been doing as preparation for an exam that will take place in less than three months. but of course, no day passes without a few random interruptions. 
“hey, sweetheart, you doing anything?” 
atsumu’s annoying voice rang in your ears through the phone, and you couldn’t help but grit your teeth. “what do you want, miya?”
“i was just wondering if there’s anything in particular you wanted to do, lately,” he responds, his voice in a sing-song tone. “just figured i should take you out on a better date.”
you scoff at his proposal, “nice try, miya. you’re not getting me that easily.”
“aw, don’t be like that, darling! i’ll take you out to get coffee, how about that?”
a silence washes over you as you consider his offer. to be entirely fair, you couldn’t really say no to a free food, and it did give him a chance to redeem himself. not to mention you definitely did need the coffee at some point.
“alright, miya, let’s do it.” you shrug, not that he could see it, “when and where?”
“i’ll text you the address,” he responds, and you can hear the pride and smugness through the phone. “see you there, babe.”
from: miya
hey princess!
from: miya
[sent location]
from: miya
see you in 20!
a sigh escapes your lips, not believing that you actually let yourself be dragged into this mess – a mess that was only made for atsumu’s pride and ego. picking up your bag, you made your way over to the location he sent you, praying that it wasn’t some sick joke and that you weren’t about to be murdered. 
your arrival at the cafe doesn’t go unnoticed by the volleyball player, the little bell at the door welcoming you in and announcing your presence to the rest of the people inside. you don’t miss the way atsumu’s head spins around to look at you, a boyish grin spreading onto his face as if to say, “i can’t believe you’re actually here.” you find it funny, considering how he’s the one who invited you here in such an ominous way. he waves you over enthusiastically – too enthusiastically – and you ignore the quickening of your heart at the way he looks so excited to see you. 
he’s not happy to see you, you have to remind yourself – although you feel your heart begin to sink at your own thoughts. you huff, now is not the time to be caught up in his romantic theatrics. the only reason why he’s so excited to see you is to rub it in your face that you actually fell for it. right?
“i already ordered for us!” atsumu said happily, taking a sip of his coffee for affect, “ya don’t mind, do ya, princess?” 
“atsumu, do you really think i’m a princess?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. 
“ya know i do, princess!” he smiles, pushing a dark chocolate mocha towards you.
“then stop making decisions for me,” you deadpan, crossing your legs. “how do you even know what i order anyway?”
another obnoxious grin your way as he answers, “i have connections.”
you scoff once again, rolling your eyes as you lifted the drink to your lips. 
atsumu hates the way his eyes fell to your lips as you spoke and he hates the way his heart began to pound the second you stepped through the door of the cafe. he isn’t supposed to feel this way – he’s not supposed to like you. so he suppresses his feelings. as usual. 
the date – could you even call it a date? – ended on a positive note to your surprise. atsumu was clearly doing his best to be ‘the man of your dreams’, and as much as you appreciated his gentlemanly ways, you hated to admit that you missed his teasing charms and his childish antics. the idea of you missing his annoying nature is beyond your own understanding, to the point where you were almost sure that he had successfully brainwashed you. 
you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts away as you return to the present. atsumu decided to walk you back to your dorm which, to give him credit, was actually quite sweet of him… even though you kept insisting that it wasn’t necessary. 
“hey, lets do this again sometime,” you find yourself saying, realising that you actually did enjoy the boy’s company. “it was fun!”
he smirks smugly at you, and you had to laugh as he says, “i knew i’d grow on you, love!”
“just be yourself next time,” you snort, patting him on the shoulder as you walk to the entrance of your dorm building. “i’m paying!”
“as if!” he yells back, and you smile as he waves goodbye. 
you’re left to your thoughts as you ride the elevator to the seventh floor, thinking over what just transpired. it was weird – considering atsumu’s naturally flirtatious character – and if you had to be completely honest with yourself, it was unnerving seeing him do a complete one-eighty regarding his personality. 
the biggest thing that worried you was how he was so willing and quick to change his personality for someone. was he that desperate to prove himself to a complete stranger?
“so…?”
you hear a voice as you enter your dorm. there, sakura leaned against the kitchen counter, the biggest and the smuggest look on her face. 
“how was the date?” she coos, eyes glistening in mischief. 
“weird,” you respond, dropping your bags to the side as you pull a chair out to sit. “sakura, you know him. has he ever been in any… bad relationships?”
she thinks for a moment before responding, “why do you ask?”
you shrug, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. “he just seems to eager to prove how macho he is. did something happen?”
“from what i know, and from what kou’s told me, he’s always been like that. you could always ask osamu-san, though. you know him, the owner of onigiri miya.”
you clicked your fingers in acknowledgement, “so that’s why he looked so familiar! i haven’t been to that place in ages!”
she nods, “ask osamu. tell him i sent you.”
*** 
“kombu-onigiri for (l/n) (y/n)!” osamu calls out to the small crowd of people, and you have to do a double take when you see him. 
he was practically the same as atsumu, aside from his dark grey eyes and ash brown hair, and you had to hold your tongue from complaining. 
“thanks,” you smile, taking the little bag. 
“i haven’t seen you in a while,” osamu comments as he prepares another order. “busy with uni?”
you sigh tiredly, “it is what it is. i wanted to talk to you about something.”
he nods, “shoot. umekaka-onigiri for kimura!”
“it’s about atsumu.”
he stops before turning to you slowly. “... let’s wait until i close, yeah? happy to wait for another hour or so?”
“take your time.”
time passes quickly among the quiet vocaloid music and the volleyball game that played on the tv overhead, as well as the multitude of customers that came and went. osamu gave you complimentary onigiris while you waited and despite your initial denial of the free food, you had to give in to the soft smell of caramelised rice and sesame oil. 
it was well past seven o’clock by the time osamu was able to speak to you, but at least you were well fed while you waited. 
“sorry about that,” osamu apologises, untying his apron and placing a cup of hot green tea in front of you. “what did you want to talk about?”
at that moment, you want to scream at the universe. of course, you’re stuck with the annoying stuck up brat instead of the sweet chef that sat in front of you. 
“don’t worry about it,” you smile, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. “atsumu… has he ever been in any bad romantic relationships?”
he doesn’t respond directly, instead chuckling and asking, “you’re the girl he’s seeing, aren’t you? the hard-headed one? what does he call you again? oh, ‘princess’, was it?”
you raise an eyebrow, “he talks about me?”
he smirks, leaning back in his seat and there’s a smugness as he says, “a lot more than you think, princess.”
you take back everything you said about the universe. both the miya twins were equally insufferable. 
“don’t call me that. and answer the question!”
his face falls from the obnoxious grin he once had and settles into a frown. “he was. a year ago, with… tachibana reina, i think. fucking bitch.”
your eyes widen at the sudden coldness and spite that drips from his words. “what happened?”
“cheated on him. treated him like shit. god… no wonder he’s been going on so many dates.” he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “i shouldn’t tell you this, and frankly i shouldn’t be telling you anything, but…”
he looks around, almost comically, before saying, “i really think you’re good for him, (y/n). i’m serious. out of all the girls he’s gone on dates with, he’s made it pretty clear that he likes you.”
you almost laugh if he wasn’t so serious. “he’s only trying so hard to prove a point, osamu. he doesn’t feel anything for me.”
he sips his green tea, laughing quietly, “i promise he actually likes you. he’s just scared, y’know?”
“from everything you’ve told me? i get it.” it’s your turn to frown as you digest his words. “i just need to take care of myself too, that’s all.”
“just talk to him. really, he’s not as bad a guy as you’d expect.”
*** 
after days of psyching yourself up – only to psych yourself out – you find yourself waiting at the university gym, cringing internally at the smell of sweat and antiperspirant. but all that goes away the moment you sit at the bleachers, the manager of the team nodding in acknowledgement. the rest of the volleyball team didn’t seem to notice your entry into the gym, and if they did, they clearly didn’t pay any mind to it as they continued their practice game. and damn was it a view. strangely enough, you found your eyes to linger a little too long on a familiar blond player, him sporting the number ‘7’ on his jersey. 
as much as you wanted to deny it, it was undeniably cute and inspiring to see him work so hard. but it all comes crashing down when he lands awkwardly on his leg after a block. 
it all happens so quickly; the captain calling for a time-out, the manager rushing over to him and the coach yelling for everyone to give him some room. you stand from your seat, hoping to get a better view of what was going on, and you did. and you wished you just stayed seated or you could purge the image out of your memory.
there atsumu sat, trying and failing to get up without anyone’s help. it was a painful scene to watch as he gasped in pain and exhaustion, denying his captain’s hand and ignoring his manager’s pleas to let the rest of the team help him. 
“hey, atsumu…” 
his neck snaps to look at you, your hand outstretched with a lopsided smile on your face (you tried to make it reassuring). 
“come on, ‘tsumu. let’s get you to the infirmary.”
you help him wrap an arm over your neck as you hoist him up, him balancing on his good leg. 
“i got it from here,” you say to the coach who let out a heave of relief. 
“thank you, (l/n).”
the walk to the infirmary was quiet, and although it was only a short distance, the journey seemed to stretch on and on. the moment he makes his presence aware to the nurse, she fusses over him, almost like a mother goose tending to her child. 
it was obvious that atsumu was doing his best to stay strong, despite how his brown eyes glossed over with tears and how he hissed in pain when the nurse moved his ankle slightly. 
“a sprain,” she says to the both of you, before addressing the boy in front of her. “grade two sprain, teetering to grade three. i’m calling six weeks off the ankle and then rehab for two weeks.”
“that’s… two months?” 
the voice crack is evident in the setter’s voice and he’s on the verge of tears. you would be, too if you were in his shoes. taking one month off to recover is already bad enough for an athlete, let alone two. 
she nods, “i’ll let your coach know. stay off the ankle, atsumu, i mean it.” she turns to you, “you make sure of it, okay?”
“of course.”
you drive atsumu’s car (a fancy mercedes because apparently their team was sponsored by them or something like that) to his dorm, helping him onto the couch. 
“are you okay?”
he nods and you watch him swallow the lump in his throat.
you ask him again, and it’s only then when he cries. you sit beside him as he cries into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek and your ear as you rub his back. you press kisses to the top of his head, denying every horrible harsh thing that comes out of his mouth. he cries and cries until there’s nothing left to cry about. he cries about his injury and how he’s letting everyone down. he cries about how he’s never good enough and how you deserve better – someone who isn’t stuck up and obnoxious. he cries about reina and how it’s his fault she fell out of love with him. he cries about how he was horrible to osamu, his brother who put up with all his problems and who always treats him with kindness despite everything. he apologises and apologises until he falls asleep in your arms, and at that moment you shed a tear. 
you hate yourself for all the harsh things you say about him behind closed doors. you hate the way you thought of him as a nuisance because, god, he is the furthest thing from a nuisance. you hate the way you used to wish he wasn’t in your life because you realise that now you wouldn’t know how life would be without seeing his pretty face and his genuine joy to see you. 
you move him so that he can rest his head on a cushion – a feat in itself considering that he’s 73 kilograms of pure muscle – before making a phone call.
when he finally wakes, the first thing he sees is you. 
“you’re awake,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 
“sorry,” he responds, his eyes puffy and swollen, and you raise an eyebrow at his word as he pushes himself up from the couch so that his back was against the backrest. 
“you don’t need to apologise,” you chuckle, “anyway, i called osamu-san about what happened and he brought some food for you to eat.”
he’s silent, looking up at you, confusion clear in his eyes. why are you being so… nice to him?
“i thought you hated me,” he says bitterly, his gaze shifting to his hands. 
you falter, and you stop stirring the udon. “i… i’m sorry.” you look back at the pot, “i never… i never hated you.”
he scoffs in disbelief, “you did. i know you did.”
“i didn’t,” you respond firmly, moving to pour the udon into a large bowl, “i didn’t hate you. i think i hated the idea that you were using me, or something.” you sprinkle some spring onions over the udon before topping it up with an egg and the tempura that osamu helped you fry earlier. “that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? this entire thing is a game – a bet – to boost your ego.” he’s quiet as you talk, and you sigh in both frustration and regret. “but i never hated you. and i’m sorry that you felt like i did.”
you place the bowl in front of him on the coffee table, wiping your hands on your pants awkwardly. “um, yeah… i’m gonna clean up now so… call me when you need me, i guess.” 
“can you stay here?” atsumu asks suddenly, and you nod. 
“sure.”
*** 
despite all your protests and your pleas, you, osamu, and atsumu walk into the university gym four weeks later. well, it wasn’t so much walking for atsumu as it was wheeling him through the glass sliding doors. that was your condition for him to enter the gym: for him to sit in a wheel chair while you wheel him around. sure, wheeling around a man the size of atsumu isn’t what you would consider to be fun, but the doctor did call for at least six weeks off the injury, and you weren’t about to be scolded by a medical personnel. osamu tags along with you, saying that he wanted to ‘see his brother in his misery’. 
cheers and greetings from the team flood your ears, and you grin happily at all of them. of course, sakusa wastes no time in shooting sarcastic comments to atsumu, but you know that deep down he’s happy that his friend is doing okay with his injury. hinata and bokuto are beyond excited, high-fiving atsumu and telling him that they can’t wait for him to get back onto the court. meian scolds atsumu lightly for not taking care of himself, but he turns to you with a grateful smile. 
you smile at the scene, standing off to the side with a few other people as you watch everyone reconnect with their ‘long lost team member’ when you notice osamu’s face fall. his expression hardens and he narrows his eyes at the door. 
“osamu, what–”
one look at the gym doors is enough to make your heart fall as a tall girl stands at the entrance. it’s almost impossible to miss her – what, with her obnoxious outfit that doesn’t fit a university gym in the slightest – as she looks around the gym with a raised eyebrow. it’s only when she sees atsumu does her expression change into a ridiculous tear-stricken look, her eyebrows knitting together as her brilliant blue eyes well with tears. 
“atsumu!” she cries, and everyone turns around as her high-pitched voice enters their ears. 
meian blinks in confusion before turning to atsumu, whose face is now pale white before settling into a frown. 
“atsumu-san, who is that?”
“tachibana reina,” osamu scowls, stepping in front of his brother protectively. “what the hell are you doing here?”
tachibana sniffs before wiping a stray tear off from her cheek. “i heard that atsumu-chan was injured so i came right away!”
you grit your teeth, moving to stand beside the onigiri-maker. “he was injured four weeks ago. if you really did care, you would have at least called earlier.”
her expression shifts in an almost comical way, an eyebrow raising at you and she speaks as if you burned her. “who are you?”
“we could ask you the same question,” sakusa spits back, lifting his mask up to cover his face as he expresses his hostility. 
samson foster, the coach of msby, steps forward to meet with tachibana, and you can tell that he isn’t at all pleased. first of all, she decides to wear three-inch high heels into a gym, proceeds to jump herself onto an injured team member, and she didn’t even ask to visit from one of the team or staff members. 
you crouch beside atsumu so that you can look in his eyes as you ask him, “you want to go now?”
he swallows thickly, eyes flicking to where tachibana stands, before nodding. “yeah.” he looks away from you when he says it. 
“okay.”
you nod in acknowledgement to the rest of the team, osamu saying that he wanted to be with the team in hopes to diffuse the situation and in hopes of sending tachibana packing. sakusa raises an eyebrow at you and you smile reassuringly, mouthing the words, ‘i’ll text you later’, which he responds with a nod of his own. 
“she has some nerve,” you comment as you drive through the freeway. “coming all the way here, i mean. she’s already done so much to hurt you and she just pops in from out of the blue?” you scoff, shaking your head as you indicate left to reach the exit. “i’ve only met her for ten seconds and i already hate her. how did you even survive dating her for as long as you did?”
he chuckles from beside you, “i guess we all make bad dating mistakes.”
“she’s the worst.” you roll your eyes, pulling up to his driveway. “you have the patience of a fucking saint.”
you help him into his apartment, quietly hoping that the issue at the gym has been diffused. you doubt it, considering the stories atsumu has told you about his lying ex-girlfriend, but you had to hope for the best. 
“regardless of whether or not she actually cares for you, her actions were uncalled for.” you continue as you prop up your laptop on the coffee bench. “did you see osamu’s face?”
he laughs loudly, moving to sit closer next to you. “he has a dumb face.”
“you have the same face!” you cry out, clapping him on the shoulder. “anyway, i have an exam in a couple days, so hush.”
he shoots you another cheeky grin and you condemn the way your heart stutters in your chest.  
“anything you say, princess.”
*** 
“welcome back,” coach foster chuckles, clapping atsumu on the back as he walks into the gym. “your ankle all good? you went to all your rehab sessions, right?”
“o’course!” atsumu grins, stumbling a little from the force of the clap. “(Y/N) wouldn’t let me skip any even if i wanted to.”
bokuto snickers, “oh yeah, your girlfriend!”
atsumu chuckles at his friends words, waving them off. “nah, she’s not my girlfriend.”
“but you like her, right?” hinata is quick to respond, wiggling his brows. “even sakusa likes her!”
atsumu’s face morphs into a betrayed one as he wails teasingly, drooping and arm over his friend. “no, omi-omi, how could you do this to me?!”
“get off.” sakusa grumbles not unkindly. “you smell.”
“oi, i showered!”
while atsumu was living his life, you were tempted to stay at home for a week while your mourned. what exactly were you mourning though? simple: the fact that you were very much gaining feelings for miya atsumu. in other words, you were wallowing in your misery. this wasn’t supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to let him win. 
“it’s really not that bad,” sakura offers, patting your head sympathetically. “i know it’s not ideal-”
“not ideal?” you demand, bringing your head up fro your pillows to glare at her. “this is, like, the worst thing that could happen!”
“i think you’re overreacting,” aneko offers from the otherside of the couch, rolling her eyes when your bury your face into the pillow in your arms again. 
“i’m not overreacting,” you groan, words muffled by the pillows. you lift your head up once again and you scrunch your face in frustration. “he’s- he’s- this entire thing is a game to him! he doesn’t even like me!”
“i really doubt that,” sakura says gently, rubbing your back. “i know it might seem like he’s an asshole, but he’s a really nice person.”
aneko snorts, “i don’t think you need to tell her that.”
“i hate you both!” you complain, flopping backwards in your agitation. “he’s going to break my heart.”
your friends exchange looks before aneko pipes up once again. “maybe you should talk to him about it.”
“as if!” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “he’s just going to rub it in my face.”
sakura squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “sweetie, i really don’t think he’d do that.”
“but you don’t know if he will or not!” you let out another scream into your pillow, tears prickling your eyes. “how could i be so- so- so stupid?!”
“you’re not being stupid. it’s normal to catch feelings and you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. atsumu probably feels the same way.”
you roll your eyes, “yeah, right. he thought i hated him for the longest time.”
“but you made up for it,” aneko responds without missing a beat. “you literally stayed with him almost the entire time he was healing. and now, he’s back on the court doing better than ever.”
“not to mention the fact that you guys literally hang out every single day. it’s getting kind of lonely here,” sakura teases, ruffling your hair. “look, if atsumu doesn’t like you back, that just shows how much of a dick he is and is just a red flag avoided. it’s a win-win situation. you literally cannot lose.”
“she has a point, y’know,” aneko chuckles, “no matter what happens, you’d be the winner.”
“i guess so… ugh, why does this all have to be so confusing?”
“how about you tell him how you feel during his next game,” aneko suggests, pulling out her phone. “see, look, it says that they have a game next week. why don’t you tell him then?”
you nod, jumping to your feet in determination. “i can do this.”
***
you cannot do this.
there you sit on the last day of june, coincidentally also the last game of the season, palms hot and sweaty as you ruminate on whatever you’re going to do after the game is over. atsumu is performing as well as ever – sets dangerously accurate, serves powerful and as strategic as usual – and you can’t help the way your eyes are trained on him. it’s almost as if you couldn’t avert your eyes no matter how much you wanted to. even still, your heart is pounding in your chest (not because you were invested in the game) and you had half the mind to leave the stadium. only, that wasn’t an option because atsumu already spotted you in the crowd. why did you let your dumb friends convince you to do this?
the whistle sounds, bringing your out of your thoughts and you glance at the score board. 25 - 19, in favour of the jackals. both teams were filtering out of the gym as well as the spectators in the stands and you follow suit, squeezing through the throngs of people. you toss between leaving and staying again as you navigate through the crowds – maybe you can run from your problems? – only to quite literally run into your problem. 
an ugly squawk escapes your lips and you cringe internally. ‘how romantic,’ you scoff to yourself sarcastically as you rub your forehead. 
“oof, sorry, princess, are you okay?” atsumu steadies you in an instant, pushing your hair back to survey the damage. “no bruises?”
you let out an airy laugh. “no harm done. congrats on your win.”
he grins, winking, “anything for you, princess.” he pauses, looking you up and down. “what are you doing here?”
“nothing!” you reply quickly, and you kick yourself internally for being awkward. “uh… nothing.”
he hums in amusement, “so you only came here for the fun of it?”
you wonder how your roommates would react if you came back to the flat still single. would it be worth leaving right now? you’re only delaying the inevitable, you hear aneko’s voice in your head and you cringe because you can imagine her saying it in that disappointed motherly voice she uses. you can imagine sakura nodding beside her, giving you a look that screamed you’re a right idiot.
“i wanted to talk to you,” you find yourself saying, wringing your hands in anxiety. “you should change first. and shower.”
he throws his head back and laughs. “yeah, i’ll see you in a bit.”
a bit passes by quicker than expected with sakusa kiyoomi leaving the changing room’s first and nodding at you in respect, followed by hinata and bokuto who grin wildly and pat you on the shoulder before meeting their respective rides (you recognise one to be kageyama tobio, the setter for another volleyball team but the other is equally as attractive with dark hair and glasses framing his blue eyes). the rest of the team emerges from the showers, chattering away and obviously pumped about their win. you hear someone – their captain? – yell about drinks to which the remaining people there agree heartily, but you feel an arm rest on your shoulder.
“sorry, guys, but i have plans with this lovely lady. maybe next time!” he grins, propping his sports bag securely on his shoulder before walking you out.
“i- wait, ‘tsumu, if you have plans-”
his smile widens at the nickname and his hand moves to rest at your waist. “i do have plans! with you!”
your cheeks burn at his words and you laugh in response. you glance at him from the corner of your eye and he seems to be at ease. his hand brushes against yours for a seconds and you swallow thickly – are you reading too much into things? a breath escapes your lips as the two of you walk around the city, the moon appearing from behind some clouds as you do. for someone who was just running around wildly on a court, atsumu was certainly energetic. 
“remember this place?” he asks, moving to stand between you and the road. 
you only just realise your surroundings and you chuckle once you see the all too familiar street you were currently standing on. “of course i do.”
he laughs, throwing his head back, and you think it’s one of the nicest sounds you’ve ever heard. 
the towering building that holds the renowned ise sueyoshi looms over the two of you, and you can’t help but feel nostalgic. the bright lights of the building shines through the windows and you can see the pale orange light against the inky blue sky. the kanji for the building is lit up in bright yellow, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the line was still long at this time of night. 
a short walk later and you’re back at aoyama bridge, the cherry blossoms blowing gently through the wind. a few other people are scattered around the bridge, mostly couples holding hands save for the odd jogger or two. the walk was short – less than ten minutes – and you’re grateful for the fresh air. you rest your arms against the rails of the bridge, enjoying the cool air against your skin. atsumu stands beside you, his back against the rails and his bag on the floor.
“i wanted to talk to you,” you say finally after long moments of silence. you glance at your watch: ten minutes to midnight. 
he quirks an eyebrow, turning his head to look at you fully. “what’s up?”
a breath leaves your lips as your wring your hands nervously over the railing. you look up at him with a small smile. “i like you.”
you expect him to laugh. to gloat in your face. to point and laugh and call you stupid. or maybe to run away with his tail between his legs. you expect him to stare at you in disgust and in annoyance, to roll his eyes and spit at your feet. you don’t, however, expect him to take a step towards you and cup your face with his warm calloused hands. you don’t, as much as you hoped, expect him to press his lips to yours, holding your gently as if you were porcelain. you don’t expect him to bring you closer to his chest, burying his head into your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. but atsumu miya is full of surprises. 
“i like you, too.” he mumbles, and you shiver from the way his breath brushes over the skin on your neck. 
your heart is thundering in your chest and the blood rushes to your ears. “what?”
he laughs, bringing his head back up to look you in the eye. “i like you, too.”
one hand cups your cheek and the other pulls you in from your waist and he kisses you again. you pull away for air, cheeks warm and head spinning. 
“yeah?”
another laugh. “of course i do, princess.” then he grins, “be my girlfriend? ya can’t say no.”
confusion enters your mind before it dawns on you. you glance at your watch – 11:59 pm. you gape at him, mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find something to say.
“i guess we both lose,” you say finally, rolling your eyes after you calm down. 
he chuckles, taking your hand. “i’d say we’re both winners.”
you smile at his words. “couldn’t stand my charm, could you, miya?”
“as if!” he yells, snorting. “you fell for my charms, too!”
you stick your tongue out and swing your arms. “whatever you say, sweet cheeks.”
he kisses your cheek. “i do say, princess.”
you hum, breathing in the cool night air as you walk. “what do you think, ‘tsumu? waste of a lovely night?”
“absolutely not, princess.”
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quick trivia:
ise sueyoshi: a real restaurant found in tokyo, japan. a high end restaurant that specialises in traditional japanese food.
aoyama bridge: a real bridge in tokyo, japan. approximate 9 minute walk from ise sueyoshi and is actually a tourist destination.
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reblogs are always appreciated!
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"Let me take care of you" | Ominis Gaunt x fem!Reader | Oneshot
Word count: 4.3k
Summary: Today felt like you were jinxed from the gods and everything went wrong, but fortunately you have a boyfriend who loves to take care of you.
Warnings: smut (with a tiny but of plot), aged up characters, slight Dominis, cunnilingus, bj, p in v, rough sex, minors dni
I'm back, baby! ❤️️
Felt inspired to write a short little smut story with Ominis. 🥵️
"Could you handle me" part 3 is still in the works, but it's been very slow unfortunately! I'm quite busy and can't say when it's finished, sorry!!!
Hopefully this will suffice for the time being!
~Mia
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The metal gate opened with a squeaking noise and rattled back down, after you stepped into the cold air of the Undercroft.
It slightly soothed your headache and sore muscles, but not as much as seeing your boyfriend relaxing on a velvet couch with a tome in hand and his wand in the other.
Ominis' blonde hair was pulled back as always, but wasn't as neat as in the morning, when you saw him for only a fleeting kiss to the cheek. His milky blue eyes were floating in a way just above the book he was reading.
It was a little quirk of his - whenever he tried to concentrate, his view would shift so he wasn't "looking" directly at it, but instead tilted his head forward or to the side, letting his heightened senses take over. 
This time he was concentrating on the whispers that ran through his body, when the tip of his wand hovered over the words of the page. He once explained it to you as pulsating whispers in the back of his head.
You could always listen to him the whole day, explaining to you how he sensed the world around him...or how he sensed you.
Sometimes he teased you about it, how you could never sneak up on him, because he'd smell you, before you'd even catch a glimpse of him. Or that he noticed the difference of your footsteps to every other student in Hogwarts. 
He even once claimed he could feel your very distinctive magical aura. Across the whole castle and sometimes even beyond the walls. When he needed to feel close to you, he honed in on your magic and let himself get drowned in your feeling.
Your heart never fluttered so much, when he admitted this to you one tired evening, wrapped around each other's naked limbs, sweat still glistening on both of your skin from previous activities. He whispered it into your hair, which he showered with kisses, while your nose was pressed against his pale soft chest and breathed in his intoxicating scent.
Remembering this brought a soft blush to your cheeks as you made your way over to him. But then the pounding of your headache came rushing back, reminding you of the horrible day you just had. With a groan, you let yourself fall onto the couch next to the Slytherin.
"Hey, Ominis", you sighed, rubbing your temples gently.
He looked up, a worried expression on his face, as he turned to you.
"Tiring day, love?"
His voice was gentle and soft, knowing how sensitive you were to sounds when you were this exhausted. Fortunately his voice was like honey, smoothing out any discomfort you felt throughout the day.
You reached out for the back of your neck, rolling around your head, feeling your tense muscles underneath your fingers. You groaned once more before answering.
"That's understated. Merlin, I never had so much bad luck in one day. Woke up with pain in my limbs from sleeping in a wrong position all night, brewed utter rubbish in potions class and almost lost to Prewett in DADA. But how was your day? I hope it was better than mine..."
Ominis closed the tome on his lap while listening to you and put it away onto the small table in front of the couch, together with his wand. He leaned back, calm as ever.
"My day was rather uneventful. But it has become way better, now you're here."
His sweet lopsided grin triggered a similar response from your mouth. The back of his hand gently caressed your arm, slowly trailing up to your shoulder and neck, his thumb adding some pressure.
"May I take care of you, my little dove? Take away all this tension in your body?"
You sighed, feeling a wave of relaxation wash over you.
"Yes, please..." You whispered, feeling Ominis' expert fingers pushing down on a quite sore muscle right on the edge between neck and shoulder, releasing some of the tension in your body, making you lean into his touch.
He grinned, loving the way you always seemed to falter when he touched you just right. And he knew your body better than his own, understanding every single twitch and shiver as a signal where you needed him most.
You let your boyfriend move your body, so your back was facing him and he turned his full attention to you. His hands softly ran over your shoulders, your spine and down to your lower back.
"Gods, you're stiff as a board, darling."
You only replied in an exhausted sigh, also feeling a little annoyed by the fabric covering your aching body. Without you needing to even open your mouth, Ominis started untugging your shirt from your skirt, pulling it over your head and gently placing it over the backrest of the couch. Knowing you well, he took off your bra, too, placing it with the shirt.
You grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly, feeling goosebump covering your bare skin from the cool air in the Undercroft.
Ominis warm hands found their way back to your soft skin and caressed it with so much tenderness, it almost melted your heart. He slowly worked his way over your tight muscles and knots, loosening them bit by bit. He knew when to put more pressure on sore spots and when to soften his touch again to avoid hurting you.
It was pure bliss.
You sighed and even moaned from the way he touched you so perfectly. The troubles of the day just washed away and it was as if there was only ever this moment right now.
Ominis gave your left shoulder a peck, moving over to the right and doing the same. Then a soft kiss to your spine. Then one higher, right on your neck.
"Mhh, Ominis..."
You felt the smile playing on his lips, when he placed another kiss right to your hairline.
"Are you feeling good, little dove?"
"Yesss~"
"Good." He hummed lazily, rubbing your back with a bit more intensity.
You didn't know what it was...maybe just the fact of his hands on your naked upper half, his gentle kisses or his scent engulfing you entirely...but you noticed the sudden shift in the air.
And just the thought of his hands moving towards the front or down to your thighs made you moan a little louder.
"Hm?"
Oh, his voice was a lot lower...a teasing tone mixed into it.
"Something the matter?"
"N-no..." You stuttered, taking in a sharp breath, when his fingers trailed over your sides, coming dangerously close to your chest.
"Are you sure? You know darling...if there's any other way I can help you...relax, one word and I'll do it."
He whispered those words close to your ear, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive neck.
Your arm reached behind you, grabbing the back of the Slytherin's head, keeping him close as his lips connected to your burning skin.
"Oh, Ominis...mhhh...p-please..."
"Please what? Darling, you need to use your words or I can't help you."
You bit your lip, feeling heat traveling down between your legs and a different kind of knot forming in your lower stomach.
"Please, touch me more."
"More? Hm..."
His arms slowly wrapped themselves around your body, but only touching your stomach.
"Here?"
A small little whine escaped your lips and you knew he was playing with you. He always knew what you needed. Sometimes Ominis couldn't help himself enjoying how he had you wrapped around his fingers.
One of his large hands traveled up, cupping your breast and pressing each finger into it individually, making you breathe harder.
"Here? Or..."
You gasped when his other hand made it's way from your stomach down to your thigh, under your skirt and finally to your damp cotton underwear.
"...is this where you need me, love?"
"T-there..."
You shivered on your whole body and it took all of your strength not to crush your boyfriend's long delicate fingers, by pressing your thighs together. His warm body hugged your scorching hot back, his tongue licking up your pulse on your neck.
He then continued to whisper in a husky and hungry tone.
"Then why don't you lie down on your back? This way I'll make you feel even better."
Ominis held his arms around you in a way to support you when getting off of the couch, getting up himself. Somehow there was always an arm, a hand or a finger attached to you, as if not feeling you would break this connection he felt with you in those moments. It was endearing and arousing all the same.
And the way you already messed up his perfectly styled hair, was even more arousing.
You lied back down onto the old yet comfortable couch, already feeling way lighter than when you first came into this secret place of yours and the two Slytherin boys.
Ominis' porcelain hand ran over your side, over your thigh and back up, when he finally climbed over you, encasing you with his limbs. His lips hovered over yours, breathing you in for a moment, the hunger clearly visible in his face.
"You're so perfect, little dove."
The back of his hand stroked your cheek affectionately, before kissing you as soft as possible. It made your heart race and your cheeks blush in a deep red, that he could feel under his touch. 
His hand trailed down to your ear, then your neck with a featherlight touch, fingertips outlining your collarbone. At last he held onto your side, revisiting all those previous places with his perfect lips, kissing, licking and sucking. Even a loving bite was part of it. He knew how much you loved getting marked by him and he knew exactly where to place them, hitting every sensitive spot and pulling out small moans and whimpers out of you.
You closed your eyes, biting your lower lips, muffling your noises a bit.
Finally his lips reached their destination, licking tiny little circles over your hardened nub, while one hand took care of the other.
"Ahhhh...Ominis~"
"Relax, darling. Just let me love you."
His affectioned words whispered right over your nipple, made it perk up even more, the air being so cold. He continued circling and even sucking on your nub, making your back arch and hips roll.
There was a place on your body growing with heat and feeling neglected, desperate for some kind of friction and Ominis' knee was too far away to take on that job.
A chuckle rang in your ears, making you look down to your boyfriend.
Ominis knew exactly what he was doing to you and found great enjoyment in pulling out those sweet reactions from you. You let your head fall back onto the pillow, feeling a little embarrassed, how easy it was for him to do so. He only needed to say a word, blow a kiss against your skin or smile a certain way and you instantly crumbled.
"Don't worry, darling..."
He said, licking at your other breast and kissing it.
"...I will take care of you."
His hand from your breast glided over your thigh, reaching around and his fingertips almost touching your bottom, but instead they pushed your leg up.
His kisses traveled lower and lower over your abdomen to right at the edge of your skirt. He moved the fabric up, inspecting the damp cloth covering your aching cunt.
Ominis clicked his tongue, smirking to himself, when his fingers got another feel of this wetness between your legs.
"So wet for me already...such a good girl."
Another blush creeped up into your face, probably spreading across your neck and shoulders already, hearing Ominis say those words.
His long slender fingers wrapped around the waistband of your panties and gently slid them down your legs. You lifted them, to help him get them off.
But instead of throwing them to the side, he held the fabric to his face, taking in a deep breath and you watched him with big eyes.
"Merlin, you smell divine."
Instantly more heat and slick pooled in between your folds and your muscles in your legs tensed up, shivering in response.
"So sweet and inviting, dove. I need to taste you..."
With the lacy fabric now tossed to the side, Ominis nestled himself right between your legs, pulling you closer to his mouth by your hips.
"So perfect..." You heard him mumble against your folds, his finger running over them and spreading them apart, making you gasp and clench for a moment.
Your mewls and moans only spurred the blonde on and his tongue darted out, lapping up the juices that had gathered there.
"Oh, oh my...ahhh~"
You weren't able to muffle your moans anymore by biting down on your lips. You were afraid of drawing blood, cause you'd bit harder and harder with the way Ominis handled you.
"Yes, darling...let me hear how good I make you feel."
The tip of his tongue licked up and down your slit, circling the hard pearl at the top, earning more sounds from you.
You held onto the pillow your head was laying on and your other hand reached out for the soft blonde hair.
Ominis sucked deliciously on your clit, and his fingers teased your entrance. He licked them for a moment, before letting the first digit push into you. It slid in so easily that he didn't have to wait to push in the second finger.
"So needy and desperate for me, love."
"Hah hah, y-yes. Just for you..."
You breathed, having trouble to calm down.
As his tongue continued its ministrations on your pearl, his fingers started to move in and out, sometimes curling his digits inside you to rub against this sensitive spot.
It made you clench around him, the pleasure already feeling too much for you to handle.
"Oh, fuck. Feels s' good~"
With your words starting to slur, Ominis knew you were getting lost in the pleasure he gave you. Also the way you clenched even tighter around his fingers, making him struggle to keep up his speed, told him everything he needed to know.
"Fuck...you're so tight, dove."
It was turning him on so much, he did unconsciously rub his hardened member, still trapped in his pants, against the couch.
He put your trembling legs over his shoulder, reaching even further into you.
Ominis groaned against your cunt, the vibration bringing you close to the edge.
He licked you relentlessly, his finger pumping in and out of you in a quickened speed. Meanwhile your fingers tangled into his hair started pulling on them, trying to hold onto anything.
"Please, let me taste you. Spill on to me, my darling and let me drink you up."
Those words sent you over the edge, screaming his name.
His finger immediately retreated, replacing them with his tongue, so he could lap up all the juices spilling out of you. You tasted so sweet against his tongue, he felt like just cumming from this alone.
Your hips bucked wildly against him, feeling oversensitive with his tongue still licking you. It almost hurt, yet it felt so good, dragging out your orgasm even further.
After a while he slowed down, placing soft kisses on your thighs and waiting for your tremors to subside. Your breathing and heartbeat returned to something closer to normal and you slumped into the couch.
Ominis gently put your legs back onto the cushions, using his fingers and tongue to clean his mouth and chin, still covered in your spill. He leaned down to you, kissing you long and deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
Sitting back up, his fingers opened up one button after the other of his beautiful white dress shirt, that clearly had some sweaty spots now after his incredible work.
Your eyes found their way to the very visible bulge that formed on his pants. You bit down your lip and wanted to reach out, helping Ominis to get out of them, but he noticed your movement, grabbing your wrist with a scaring precision, before you were able to grab the fabric.
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.
"I am taking care of you, my dear. Just relax and watch the show. I know how much you like watching me get undressed."
You blushed and hummed in agreement.
The blonde got up from the couch, standing next to you, where you could easily watch him. And you did.
You were completely mesmerized by him stripping down to his underwear.
His skin was so fair and like porcelain, constellations of beauty marks littered around his arms, chest, stomach and even his legs. For some reason you loved the one right by his nipple and the group of three on the inner side of his right thigh. Maybe it was the fact that only you were allowed to see them like this. Only you knew every last spot of his moles, just like he knew every little dimple of your body. He memorized your body like a map of his favorite place. It sure was his favorite place.
He could imagine coming back to it forever. Your body was his home...where he felt safe, loved and understood.
Just how you felt with him. Your heart grew and overflowed with love for this man standing in front of you.
"You are gorgeous, Ominis."
The smile on his lips was so beautiful and he genuinely seemed happy to hear you being so entranced by his body.
"Why thank you, love."
The outline of his underwear and the wet spot told you just how much, Ominis got turned on, eating you out. It wasn't the first time he did and he did tell you it was one of his favorite things to do, still it always surprised you just how much it affected him.
And how good he was at it.
You couldn't help yourself but to let one hand rest on your chest, softly rubbing over your nipple and the other play with the lips between your legs.
He stepped closer, his fingers playing with the hem of his underwear. You gulped audibly, your eyes fluttering down to his bulge. Your mouth watered at the idea of tasting him too.
There was just something so arousing about it.
"Can I, please?" 
You asked with almost an innocent tone to your voice. It made him groan and his dick clearly twitched underneath the fabric.
"If you ask so nicely, of course, dear."
Ominis finally pushed his underwear down, letting his erection spring free. It was leaking so much precum. You thought back, but couldn't remember if he was ever so hot and bothered for you.
His big hands wrapped around his cock, spreading the precum all over his length, pumping it a few times, before moving close enough to your mouth, so you could take him in.
You softly licked his tip first, from the slit up to the little hole that's still dripping. A few swirls around the red tip before you wrapped your lips around his length and bobbed your head down it, taking him deeper every other time.
Sinful moans and whimpers fell from the man, only causing your cunt to start dripping again, too and your fingers to circle your sensitive clit. Your moans that vibrated against his dick made it twitch wildly. It took everything in him not to cum into your mouth, even though you probably wouldn't even have minded, but Ominis still had other plans.
When you started to hollow your cheeks, sucking in his dick and grabbing his shaft and balls with your one hand, he had to push himself off of you. He was panting a lot, working himself back to reality, his dick glowing in a dangerous red.
"Fuck...love, you're too good. Merlin..."
You only giggled in response.
"This wasn't my plan, dear. This is still about me taking care of you."
"But I love making you feel good, too."
Ominis' chest shook with the soft chuckle from his lungs.
"You are an angel, dear. Don't worry about it...you will make me feel good, too, soon enough."
"Oh? What's on your mind, love?"
Ominis smirked and ran his hand over your knee, down your thigh and touching your hand, that was still working on your wet cunt. A finger was moving in and out, missing the way his fingers felt in there, as yours neither reached as far, nor filled you up so good. It made the man smile to feel you touching yourself.
"I guess you already know what's on my mind...seems to me you're all ready for me again, hm?"
He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, licking your delicate fingers clean, while also pumping his dick slowly with his other hand. A breath hitched in your throat, feeling his tongue swirling around your fingers.
God, you loved this man.
Ominis climbed on top of you again, lifting your one leg over the backrest and holding the other with his hand. His erection already pressed against your wet folds, as he leaned down to kiss you passionately.
He moved against you, slicking his member with your juices.
Parting from your lips again, he swallowed thickly and furrowed his eyebrows, the desperation to feel you completely clearly written on his face.
"Are you ready, dove?"
"Y-yes. Please make me yours."
You didn't have to say it twice. He pushed his prick inside your entrance, making sure to take it slow as it was quite larger in size and girth than his fingers earlier. But he slipped in easily with all the slickness between the two of you.
A long low growl rumbled in his chest, when he bottomed out.
"Gods, you are so tight. So fucking perfect for me."
Whenever he cussed like that, you knew he was losing his self-control. He was always a gentleman and so eloquent, but in the bedroom, when your legs were wrapped around his waist, he always lost it.
You hummed in anticipation of his first slow thrust, but suddenly he pulled out and pounded his dick back into you, making you cry out.
"Fuck, I'm sorry." He whispered, his forehead leaning against yours. He could feel the creases on yours from the painful sound you just made.
"No, no." You immediately replied, taking his cheek into your hand. 
"Do it again please..."
His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but then he did as he was told, pulling out and quickly shoving his cock deep inside you again. This time, being prepared, your cry sounded more like one of pleasure, as it burned your insides so perfectly.
Ominis started a slow but reckless rhythm, pounding his cock into your tight cunt, making you mewl and whimper, your arms wrapping around his back, nails digging into his skin.
You felt so incredibly good for him, the sting of your nails only adding to this primal urge he felt deep in his abdomen, to break you apart with his cock.
"I love you, Ominis."
Those sweet, sweet words tore away any restraints he still had and he picked up his speed, lifting your leg higher, to go even deeper. Your cries got higher too with every thrust of his hips.
His cock pushed right against this perfect spot inside you, where you could only clench around him and moan even louder. His almost bruising strikes against it, so deep inside, were precise and calculated. Even with him losing his self-control, pleasuring you was just natural for him and by gods, you were a complete mess beneath him.
You edged closer and closer, the new knot in your stomach close to painful. Your boyfriend's name became a mantra, as if it was the only thing your mind knew anymore.
You were all surrounded by him, his wet skin slapping against you, his sweet scent engulfing you completely and his even sweeter sounds tickling your shoulder.
Ominis mouth just hung open, breathing hot against the crook of your neck, as he completely wrecked you with his speed and size. When his one hand came down to rub the perked little pearl right above your entrance, it pushed you right over.
You came with loud and lewd noises, your legs trembling, toes curling, your eyes rolling back into your skull and with a few more skillful thrusts, Ominis fell over the edge as well, emptying himself deep inside you.
You felt yourself float off of the earth...just complete bliss.
You held Ominis close, making him float with you, kissing him messily. Some kisses were more on the cheeks than on the lips, but he didn't mind. He just did the same.
Slowly but surely you two came back down, reality creeping its way back into your minds.
Carefully Ominis pulled out, leaving you feeling empty, but he instantly pulled you into him again, holding you close, as you two shuffled around, to make you lay on top of him. Your limbs wrapped around each other and Ominis peppered your head with kisses, his hands caressing your arms, while your head was close to his chest, listening to the calming beat of his heart.
"I love you, too."
You looked up at your Slytherin and just smiled. He looked so exhausted and still absolutely relaxed and happy.
"I hope you're feeling just as good as I am feeling now."
"Even better, love. Even better."
You whispered against his lips, giving him a long and loving kiss.
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d6volution · 6 months
Note
I like to imagine, if reader has a tail, then Caine likes to pull it a little. During sexy time or just like that.
yes definitely, hehe 🤭🤭
-------
Caine tuts, yanking you by the hips back towards him. Your hands unsuccessfully attempting to grab at the silky sheets of his bed, "Must you squirm so much, y/n? After all, this was your idea!" Caine made sure to say proudly, almost to tease you. You'd been begging him all day for attention, more specifically sexual attention.
"M'sorry... can't help it.." You whined, and tried to keep still as he lined up his thick cock with your entrance, your were dripping already. Making a mess of the bed beneath you, "My my, at least you were being honest. You're absolutely dripping! Ah.. whatever will I do you with you?" He hummed and the tip nudged at your entrance before slowly sliding inside causing your back to arch a little. Your body instinctively trying to crawl away from the large intrusion.
Unfortunately for you, Caine had also been a little pent up. Of course it isn't something he would admit to, but you were trying his patience. His gloved hand wrapped around the base of your tail and yanked your body back towards him. Causing a strangled moan to rip out of your throat. Goosebumps tickled your skin from the stimulation and Caine stared down at you with intrigue.
"C.. Caine..?" You mewled, face half buried in the sheets from embarrassment.
"Hm, what an interesting reaction.." He yanked again, and you moaned, shuddering beneath him.
"Ah, s.. senstive Caine..!" You whined , knuckles turing white at how hard you were clenching the sheets. Your cunt was still needy and aching, causing you to wiggle your hips a little.
He was so distracted he'd nearly forgotten! "Oh, silly me of course dear. I shouldn't keep you waiting!" So with another hard tug on your tail the ringmaster slammed his hips forward, his dick pummeling inside your cunt without anymore forewarning.
"Hhaa!! C .. Caine!!" You cried out , your cunt sucking him in happily allowing him to nestle against the deepest parts of you. He grunted above you , his long tongue along his teeth with delight.
You cry and whine, yet your pussy sucks him up without issue. What a cute mismatch he thought.
"Yes, dear?" He leaned over your arched form, his body flush against yours and his dick felt like it was nudging impossibly deep inside of you. Caine was right next to your face and took the chance to run his tongue along your neck. Causing you to shudder and tighten around him.
"What do we have here? It would seem very bit of you is senstive today." His voice was low and he finally began rocking his hips, he thrusted in and out at a moderate pace accompanied by your lewd juices.
"Mm..more.. Caine... faster.." You whined, already tormented by the slow pace. Your body was senstive yes but that didn't make it any less greedy..
"Quite demanding today aren't we? No matter my dear, I'll give you exactly what you want!" He said and pounded into you harder, his hold on your tail tightened to make sure your hips came slamming back onto him with just as much force.
It was like he was knocking the wind out of you— all you could do was take it, your mouth was agape as broken moans and pleas spilled from your lips but they fell on deaf ears. Caine kept up his pace. "Ngh.. yes.. there you go.. t-taking me so well..!" He grunted while fucking you into the mattress.
"Nnh.. Hhaa.. Caine, caine..! Feels good, s'good..! G.. Gonna..!" You babbled out as the already fragile knot in your stomach snapped and you gushed around his dick. Tightening up around him and causing his own hips to stutter a little at the sudden tightness. He couldn't help it , his balls tightened as he pumped his cum into your cunt.. you felt warm and fuzzy all over. Your head reeling.
"Ah.. seems we both needed that dear, it also lools like I found a fun weakness of yours!" He said and stroked your tail, his fingers trailing up your back.
You gave him a lopsided smile. "Mm.. don't take advantage of it too much.."
"Hm.. no promises, my love!"
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