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freedomfireflies · 1 month

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Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it.

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine.

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door.

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions.

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence.

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say.

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?”

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over.

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out.

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment.

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh.

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.”

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit.

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one.

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy.

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle.

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment.

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon.

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up.

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow.

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.”

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat.

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further.

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop.

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent.

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot.

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave.

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open.

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

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sanakiras · 2 months

Text

IN THE DARK CORNERS

PAIRING — kim mingyu x reader | choi seungcheol x reader

WORD COUNT — 2.2k

SYNOPSIS — mingyu used to be your lover. now he has to watch from the sidelines as you’ve moved on to someone else.

TAGS — once again a college au, fem!reader, jealousy, explicit sexual content, voyeurism, pretty much just porn with no plot, semi-public sex, dom!cheol, read at ur own risk !!

mingyu would overall consider himself to be a smart guy.

he never needs to put a lot of effort into his classes to pass them, he’s quick-witted and pays attention to detail. everyone around him has always praised him for his intelligence.

but right now, he feels stupid. he has for a while at this point.

his jaw is clenched as he leans against the wall with a cup of beer in hand. normally he very much enjoys the parties hosted by his friends — today is a different case.

it’s not just anything that’s making him feel this way.

at the other side of the crowded, warm room stands his former teammate choi seungcheol. he was their team captain up until last year, having to resign from the position after suffering a leg injury, and he apparently hasn’t felt the need to return to the football team yet despite his leg being all healed up.

choi seungcheol is a nice guy. he can also be real damn scary if he wants to be.

he’s about two years older than him. mingyu found he was always easy to get along with — until two days ago, when he discovered you out of all people had started dating him.

you. his ex-girlfriend. you broke up with him a while back after a fight he honestly can’t even remember the words nor the cause of. it was bullshit. something that shouldn’t have happened but did.

somehow, he’d let you slip through his fingers. like many people, he failed to realize what he had until it was gone. failed to see the signs he was supposed to see until it was too late. he feels stupid because he’s always so fucking smart — until the one time he wasn’t.

he tried to get you back. you wouldn’t let him.

now all he can do is stare at you from the other side of the room and watch you kiss a guy that isn’t him. you’re all over him, sitting on his thigh, and he’s constantly got his hands on you, arm looped around your waist, fingers rubbing your clothed skin.

wonwoo suddenly comes up to him, nudging him in the side. “are you trying to kill the guy by looking at him?”

“hm?”

“seungcheol. green with envy much?”

mingyu shrugs. “maybe.”

“well, you’d probably be smart to make it less obvious,” wonwoo remarks before leaving, “for your own sake.”

the words leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. he wishes he could just stop looking at the two of you, wishes he could just stop thinking about it for a damn second.

he’s certainly not a lightweight, but even he suffers the consequences of taking too much alcohol. his head feels fizzy, and he loses focus for a second, only to realize you and your boyfriend are gone from your places by the couch.

looking around frantically, he suddenly catches the glimpse of the little red dress you’re wearing at the other side of the room — you’re going upstairs with him.

and he finds himself desperately eager to follow you. that’d be so wrong though, wouldn’t it? he’s not some stalker, obviously. he just wants to check things out.

or so he convinces himself.

his brain is against it, his heart has other plans.

his legs seem to have their own will. before he can stop himself, he’s walking up the stairs, cursing to himself when the hallway is somewhat empty — until he hears the noise of something clattering onto the floor two rooms further.

taking a few steps into the direction of where the sound came from, he briefly looks behind him to check whether anyone’s there, proceeding when there isn’t.

the moment he pushes the door open just a bit further, he spies the office supplies carelessly thrown on the floor, his ears catching onto the familiar sound of your soft laughter.

he takes a step forward, detecting motion at the other side of the bookcase. he’s able to hide right behind it, watching you lie down on the wooden surface from the open cracks of the shelves.

the tight dress on your body is hiked up by your boyfriend as his hands roam all over your body, the sounds of your shared kisses making mingyu feel warm, his cheeks flushing, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

he knows how much you love a good make-out session — he also knows you like to speed things up a little when you need to be touched.

he’s frozen in his spot behind the bookcase when he hears you let out those needy whimpers that would turn any man on like crazy.

“shit—i should probably be quiet.” you giggle with your hand half over your mouth while cheol has you pinned underneath him, right on top of the desk.

“i’d love to see you try.” he mutters to you, fingers already hooking on the fabric of your matching lacy, red panties.

the worst part is that mingyu remembers that pair — one of his favorites. you look stunning in that little red set.

but your new boyfriend doesn’t appear to be paying that much attention to your lingerie. you’re both panting, all hot and heavy, clearly not in the mood to take things slow right now.

he sinks down to his knees on the floor, fingers harshly digging into your thighs as he spreads your legs to give him the access he wants, and you so eagerly let him.

“so gorgeous, baby.” cheol whispers to you before burying his lips and nose into the wetness pooling between your legs.

mingyu feels himself growing harder when he hears you cry out, your back arching off the cold desk, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

with your dress pushed up to your upper chest and your panties discarded on the floor, you gasp for air, fingers pulling on his dark strands of hair. you won’t last long if he keeps this up.

the first loud noise escapes you when he suddenly slips his finger into you. “cheol!”

the man between your legs shows his disapproval. “c’mon, baby, keep quiet for me. you want me to keep going, right?”

“yeah, yeah—” you nod almost desperately, “—‘m sorry.”

he cocks his head as if to say, that’s what i thought.

sly fucker.

he’s got you in the palm of his hand though — especially when he dives right back in, eager to see you fall apart while pumping his fingers in and out of you.

mingyu is so lost in the sight that his hand travels down to his belt buckle almost automatically. he’s so rock-hard in his pants that he could cry.

it doesn’t take cheol long to get you so worked up that you’re about to cum — which is exactly when you beg for him to fuck you instead, claiming you just need him inside you.

and your boyfriend happily obliges.

with your legs hoisted over his shoulders, he hovers above your body, watching the way you gasp and whimper when he pushes himself inside you.

“so full, cheol—” you moan once he’s nearly balls deep inside you, biting your lip to keep the noise down.

“you can take a little more though, can’t you, sweetheart?” your boyfriend asks teasingly, the subtle mocking undertone making you shiver. you love it when he’s all dominant and cocky like this, and you love to play into it.

a lazy smile appears on your face. “depends on how hard you give it to me.”

he smirks, biting his plump lip as he picks up the pace. you hold onto him, relishing in the sound of his moans by your ear.

“always so greedy,” cheol muses, eyes shining as he scans your figure, “always wanting more.” he pushes into you with the last syllable, unable to hold down a grin at how breathlessly you gasp.

oh, the guy gives it to you good. something you absolutely deserve — mingyu just wishes it was him giving it to you instead.

he hates it. he hates how pretty you look in his arms, under him. he hates how you both look so fucking perfect. he hates how dirty and perverted he feels.

he hates that the thrill of possibly getting caught makes him harder.

he watches as seungcheol takes you fast and hard, his hand pumping his own cock at the same pace. your body welcomes the muttered sentences of praise; pulling his body as close as physically possible, spreading your legs a little wider, fingers digging into his back a little deeper.

mingyu knows you love your praise just as much as a bit of force, and your boyfriend seems to know it too. he leaves red marks over your body, sucking at your skin, pulling out for a moment to shove his fingers back in instead.

you’re a whiny, moaning mess as three of his long fingers pump in and out of you. “thought i told you to keep it down.”

“fuck—just feels so good, cheol—”

“i know, pretty girl. you’re doing so good.”

god, you’re just so engulfed in your need to be filled up that you’re willing to do anything for the man currently in between your legs, and he fucking knows it.

mingyu is obsessed with the way your cunt sucks in his fingers so easily. he can literally hear how wet you are — cheol’s quick fingers are squelching into your heat, thumb circling over your clit until all you can do is make sweet sounds into his mouth.

it all gets too much, and your hand reaches down to take a hold of his wrist, but his movements don’t falter. it takes less than a minute before you cum on his fingers, desperately clinging onto him. sharp overstimulation hits your body when he pushes his cock into you again, not allowing you to come down from your high.

the feeling makes you go insane. you clench on him as a reflex, and he groans in response because you’re just so damn tight, almost suffocating him.

his big hands are grabbing your waist, basking in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him. you notice through your bliss that he’s getting more desperate, movement more erratic, kisses sloppier, breathing heavier — how you love seeing him fall apart.

“takin’ me so well.” he smiles, biting his lip as you rake your nails over his abdomen.

“mhm. ‘s all for you, baby.”

he physically can’t not cherish the way you gaze at him so lovingly while getting your back blown out. if anything, it’s a talent. “yeah? such a good girl for me.”

you capture his lips in another kiss, one that’s a little sweeter than before. his hair is soft, the roots of his strands a bit damp from the sweat, but you don’t care.

you’re mewling in your spot on the desk, every other thought you ever had thrown out the window. all you can focus on is cheol fucking you like his life depends on it.

his chest is then pressed up against yours, his one hand on the back of your head, holding you still and close while he gives you hard and deep strokes.

“shit.” he curses, getting closer now that you’re tightening up more.

he’s reaching down to touch your clit again, rubbing the sensitive spot, causing you to buck your hips against his.

“cum with me, cheol.” you beg him, your sharp nails digging into his shoulder blades, which always works well on him — it makes him so utterly weak.

it brings mingyu just as close to his release. he’s so lost in his lust that it almost feels like you’re saying the words to him and not seungcheol, so he lets his back rest against the wall as he gets himself off at the pleasure of watching you.

“i’m so close, baby.” cheol mutters, his thick brows knitting together once he throws his head back in pleasure.

your body shakes as you come undone underneath him, your arms wrapped around his back. your boyfriend can’t hold back any longer when he feels you hit your peak — his hips stutter, eyes squeezed shut as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, muffling his moans.

your secret spectator has to cover his mouth to avoid making any noise. his balls are tightening, sweat beading at the nape of his neck right before he pathetically cums in his pants, some of his release dripping on the floor.

his own chest still heaves as his eyes find the little drops of sweat rolling down cheol’s back, his eyes moving down to the sight of your boyfriend pulling out of you, leaving a trail of his cum seeping out of your pussy.

the sight is enough to make him hard again.

you’re panting in your place on top of the desk, still coming down from your high before your boyfriend speaks up — but his words aren’t directed at you.

“did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

mingyu’s heart drops in his chest. shit, was it that obvious? he thought he did a good job at being relatively quiet.

now he’s left with two options of what to do next. either he owns up to it or gets the fuck out of here.

and he thinks to himself, fuck it. not like the situation could get any worse anyways.

so he steps forward, into the light.

thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

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bueckersgirl · 19 days

Text

Favorite Customer*

(seriously tho, where are the FICS OF HER YALL DO BETTER. 😭)

Paige Bueckers x Fem reader

Summary: Paige goes to the bar to blow off some steam occasionally , and y/n, who works there might have a tad bit of a crush on her.

WC: 1.7K

Warnings: 18+, smut, just straight up filth

➽───────────────❥

There she was.

Y/n’s customer crush was here.

Paige.

She sat in the same spot she normally did each time she’d go. Sixth one down from the second row, right next to the window.

She had a blue oversized hoodie worn strictly around her neck with a white tank top underneath. Her pretty blonde hair was put back in a messy low bun that framed her face so perfectly.

Y/n poured out what she usually requested- a glass of cosmopolitan with a tad bit of orange juice and some aperol. She’d also occasionally order a slider but due to the time she’d always come they were usually gone.

It may sound strange but, y/n found herself almost fascinated by her. The way she’d remain consistent on her arrivals, only ever coming twice a week at exactly two thirty in the morning-never earlier or later. She was captivating.

Y/n got used to seeing her there so often it became a part of her schedule that she wouldn’t dare complain about. She would never admit it-of course but seeing Paige after working these long shifts always brightened up her mood and made her day a fuck ton better.

“Hi, ma.”

Y/n was brought back from her thoughts once she heard the breathy voice she’d been desperately craving all night calling out to her from the booth. She glanced up and noticed her already staring with a cute smile across her face.

“Hi, Paige.” y/n replied softly while returning the smile back and handing her the glass she just made.

“I assumed you’d want your regular.”

“You remember my drink order?”

“It’s not a hard drink, really-”

“What did the last person before me order, hm?”

damnit.

Y/n’s breath got caught in her throat while her mind practically went blank right there on the spot.

“I forgot.” she whispered, causing Paige to smirk widely as she leaned back and chuckled.

Though they didn’t know much about each other, Paige found her absolutely adorable. She’d always notice the way y/n’s cheeks reddened when she’d call her ‘ma’ or any light praises she’d give her on how delicious the drink she made was.

Paige kept her eyes precisely on hers and saw how she was quick to look away making her already smug and wide smirk somehow widen even more. “Don’t gotta get all shy on me now, ma. It’s cool if I’m your favorite customer.” she winked as she sipped her drink.

“Maybe… Woah-.” She muttered softly before she felt herself getting dragged by the hip right next to Paige.

“Sorry if I caught you off guard, mama. I'm just not a fan of the distance while we’re speaking, I’m sure you understand, right?”

Y/n quickly nodded her head in response and felt her cheeks grow warm again as she fidgeted with her fingers.

“I’m- I really should get back.”

“You don’t need to go anywhere, ma, there’s no other customers here for you to attend” she interrupts with a small grin, “C’mon, please?”

Y/n hesitated for a second before sighing then quickly glancing at the other empty booths before unbuttoning 2 buttons on her vest and leaning back.

“See?” Paige hummed as she removed a strand of hair from y/n’s face before having another sip of her drink. “Probably so much more comfortable now huh, mama?”

Y/n smiled then nodded and turned to look at Paige.

Fuck she’s sexy.

She was so stuck in her thoughts she hadn’t realized how hard and long she’d been staring for or that she’d now been looking at her lips.

Before y/n even got the chance to think again, Paige attached her lips to hers then lightly pulled y/n’s face closer to hers in order to deepen the kiss before she slid her tongue in her mouth.

“Wanna get out of here?” She whispered and y/n was quick to comply as Paige grabbed her hand and rushed them out the bar.

They made it to her car and y/n felt desperate. After Paige touched her once she felt herself craving more. She grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her back into the kiss as a quiet moan escaped Paige’s lips.

“Desperate huh, mama? Always could tell you were a desperate girl but never thought you were so needy this quickly, barely even touched you yet and you’re going feral.”

Y/n let out a whimper causing Paige to chuckle as her tongue continued to explore the inside of her mouth with ease. “Trust me though I love your neediness this early on. Making it seem like you’ll die if I don’t touch you enough.”

“You know-” Paige whispered before breaking the kiss and moving on to y/n’s jaw and neck then lightly nibbling on to her ear. “I’ve thought about this so many times you have no idea. Everytime I step into that bar my mind goes crazy. I have had to stop myself from doing this earlier, but-”

She puts her mouth right on her ear and mutters, “If I knew you wanted me this badly I would’ve done this so much sooner, ma.”

She doesn’t even give Y/n the chance to catch her breath as she takes her hand again and guides her over towards the backseat of her car then swinging the door open and stepping aside.

“Lay down for me, ma,” she mumbled, pecking y/n’s lips gently while guiding her in. “Get as comfortable as you need to, want you to enjoy this.”

Y/n immediately settles down into the soft black leather seat before tossing around for a little bit until she found a position she preferred.

Paige quickly landed between her thighs and pulled the door shut. She hovers her body on top of hers, trapping y/n beneath her as she runs a palm up the side of her leg.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck. Can’t wait to ruin you.”

That short statement alone made y/n to moan loudly causing Paige to let out a chuckle. “You really are desperate for my touch are you?”

“Yes-Yes I am. Please touch me.” she whispered before Paige lightly pinched her inner thigh.

“I am touching you, ma. Can’t you feel my fingers running across your pretty thighs, hm? Or did you want me to touch somewhere else, huh?”

“How about here?” She placed her fingertips on her stomach causing y/n to aggressively shake her head, “No-no not there…maybe here?” She then dragged her fingers towards her lower abdomen.

“Getting closer, huh? How about, right here.” Her fingers finally made their way towards y/n’s clothed clit with a rough slap earning an even louder moan from her lips. “Fuck, ma. Can feel your wetness through your leggings…Christ-have you been this wet since you saw me?”

She nodded her head eagerly as Paige started rubbing slow, teasing circles against her. “Can’t believe I got you this worked up-barely did anything was so respectful, then you surprise me with this? Fuck me...”

Paige leaned in and kissed her once more wanting to taste her moans and feed off her desperation. She breaks away from the kiss then starts tugging on her leggings, “Can I take these off you, ma? Wanna feel your dripping pussy rub against me so fucking bad.”

All Y/n could do was whine out in response as she motioned her head up and down quickly, craving her touch more than she needed oxygen to breathe. Once Paige got her approval she was gentle but eager to get her bottoms off. The second she pulled them down she couldn’t help but let out a groan at the wet patch very visible on her pretty little pink panties.

“Lord, ma, you soaked through your panties…” She mumbled while rubbing harder and feeling y/n’s wetness increase more and more with each circle of her finger. Watching her fall apart beneath her with just a few flicks of her index and middle finger across her sensitive clit was a sight that Paige was definitely never gonna be able to get out of her mind.

Paige gently moved her drenched panties to the side and held it there using her other hand. She let out a moan of her own at the sight of y/n’s wet and throbbing clit right there on display for her. Paige began slowly but surely thrusting her finger in and out loving the wet noises of y/n’s pussy filling up the car. After she felt her relax a bit she stuck another one into her before leaving a kiss below her jaw.

“More” y/n whispers faintly, “Please-more..”

“More, ma?” she echoes before adding the third finger, “Fuck you really are needy. Already got my two fingers working now you need another one? So filthy.”

“Paige..So close, please..” y/n moans, arching her back further as Paige increases the speed of her fingers and uses her thumb to rub her puffy clit until she reaches her high.

“Gonna cum, ma? C’mon, give it to me, you know how badly I wanna taste it…Be a good girl and cum for me.”

That was all y/n needed to cum. Before she knew it she was making a mess on Paige’s fingers-and most likely her car seat too-as her body shook and her thighs twitched while Paige slowly removed her soaking wet fingers out from her entrance and into her mouth, moaning at the taste.

“So sweet, mama, could taste you all day, I swear.” she mumbled, causing y/n to let out a quiet whimper as she tried calming down from her high.

“Thank you.” y/n whispered, as Paige leaned down attaching their lips together once more while she pulled her panties up for her.

“You did so good, ma.” she praised, helping her sit back up straight as she stroked her bare thigh. “I was thinking, I’d love to do this again, but only if you’re down of course-”

“Yes, I am definitely down to do this again.” she interrupted quickly, offering her a smile causing Paige to chuckle and peck her on the lips.

“That’s a good girl.”

#paige bueckers #smut #wlw #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #y/n #uconn wbb #wbb #wlw smut

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erwinsvow · 2 months

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you fiddle with the r necklace, rubbing it between your fingers like you always do deep in thought. you should have gotten rid of the necklace the day the two of you broke up, but a hopelessly sad and defiant part of you refused to take it off. it’d been long enough now that it was getting to the point of weird rather than just pathetic. at least, your friends thought so, and they never hesitated to let you know. after all, there was no one that hated your boyfriend more than them.

“you’re doing it again,” kiara comments, staring at your hand mid-motion, the pendant slipping from your grip as you drop it immediately.

“doing what?” you question innocently, face burning.

“i still think it’s creepy that he wanted you to wear a necklace with his initial. it’s like a brand. it’s dehumanizing.”

“or, like, a dog collar,” jj says, holding back a laugh. you look up at them with a blank expression, because you really don’t have any retort. maybe it was rafe’s brand on you, maybe your friends are right. but you think, chest tight, that you didn’t mind being branded by him.

you change the topic because you’ll start crying if you think about it too long—of course they don’t mind, they encourage you to talk about anything but rafe these days. if only it was that easy to get your mind off of him.

rafe doesn’t make it easy on you either. what was supposed to be an amenable break-up had transformed and twisted into something completely different—something that your friends would kill you if they found out about. the first few weeks had been normal, like any other break-up, you sobbed on john b’s shoulder, accepted tissues from pope and listened to jj talk badly about rafe for as long as you could listen. you spent hours with kiara and sarah exploring all the reasons why it was so not meant to be, not when you and rafe were night and day, not when he was still dealing and doing coke. and then, just like other break-ups, the time came to put all of rafe’s shirts and the teddy bears he’d bought you and the photos on your wall into a box and get rid of it all.

you think you’re doing a good thing, by bringing rafe his shirts back instead of burning them like jj suggested. you knock on the door to tannyhill, making sure you spot his truck parked outside—even though one glance at the car where you’d lost your virginity to rafe makes your face burn up. you feel flushed and clammy when rafe opens the door, and he looks at you like nothing’s happened since he saw you last, and the rest of your resolve caves almost immediately.

“hey, kid.”

“hi,” you chirp, pulling your eyes away from rafe’s before he convinces you to do something you’ll regret. “i brought your clothes back. i had more than i realized.” you offer him the box, but he doesn’t extend his arms.

“nah, you can keep them. you’ll be needin’ them anyways.”

“what?”

“how long d’you think we’re gonna stay broken up for? huh? another week? two?”

“rafe, i-”

“it’s okay, kid, just keep them.”

“no, i think you should take them-”

“why don’t you come upstairs and put them away f’me? hm?”

the first time it happens, you tell yourself it was a one-time mistake, that could happen to anyone. you’re wrapped up in rafe’s sheets, naked and sweaty, trying your hardest to catch your breath while you stare at the muscles of rafe’s back while he pulls up his laptop and finishes whatever he was working on. your phone keeps going off, probably your friends wondering why you’re so late to dinner. you pray to god kiara doesn’t check your location.

“you gonna get that?” rafe asks, turning back to look at you. you just look at him, delirious and still incredibly sad, wondering if this is the last time you’ll ever be in rafe’s bed again.

“no, they’re just gonna ask me where i am.”

“still lettin’ them control how you really feel? gotta work on that, baby.” you feel any anger bubbling up at the fact that rafe still thinks you let your friends decide your feelings for you—a key point you had argued during the break-up—melt away at the sound of the nickname.

“they don’t like how much i like you.” you say it kind of sadly, like things could be different, like the two of you could have made it work in another world. you fiddle with your necklace, before unclasping it and letting it drop onto rafe’s palm. “i should go now.”

it feels much too intense, like the third-act breakup in the cheesy books you read. you want rafe to fight for you, you want your friends to like him, but that means he has to change, and as much as it pains you to admit it, you don’t want any part of him to change. you want your friends to change their minds, but they won’t, and you want rafe to care that your friends don’t like him, but he doesn’t.

you try to move but he manhandles you into place, a hand on your wrist tugging you back into bed. he pushes your hair aside, clasping the necklace back on, and then rafe presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

“don’t ever take this off again, got it?”

you nod. rafe sends you to the chateau in one of his shirts and you pray to god no one notices that or your necklace is still in its usual place.

the next time it happens, you can’t even try to argue that it was an accident. you knew rafe wouldn’t make this easy for you, but you didn’t think he could make it so impossibly difficult. his texts light up your phone, only a few feet away from pope and john on the couch, watching the movie but only half paying attention.

R: where are you tonight

R: you coming here or do i need to come get you?

your heart settles into your stomach, being attacked by the wings of the butterflies that have made their home there. rafe talks to you like the two of you are still dating, and your mind slips into an easy, soft place where that is still your reality.

“what kinda porn are you lookin’ at right now?” jj asks, and you break out of your fantasy.

“what?” you blubber out, before john b interrupts.

“jj, stop making everything about porn.”

“i’ve seen that look before, man, it’s the exact face pope makes when he found somethin’ fun and fresh. so what’s your type, i mean, you can share with the class-”

after slapping jj on the back of the head and reassuring everyone that there was no porn on your phone—only the promise of something better waiting for you, but they don’t need to know that—you head out, replying to rafe quickly.

coming now.

this time, you can’t lie and act surprised that you’ve ended up here again. rafe turns on his tv to watch the evening news, and it’s so silly you almost want to laugh, but you stay silent, watching him watch the news and taking a sip of the water he got for you.

you turn your head to place the cup on his nightstand, and see your lip balm perched next to his lamp.

“i’ve been looking for this,” you say, picking it up and turning to rafe.

“yeah, you left it here.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“‘cause i knew you’d be back.”

you think that’s enough to be your reality check. it’s not.

a week later, you accompany your friends to the bonfire. you play with your necklace while they fill up plastic cups with beer from the keg.

“you’re never gonna get over him if you keep wearing things he got you,” kiara says, taking a sip from her cup. you know she’s only trying to help you, that she’s only worried about you. you wish they would stop bringing him up.

“i’m not ready to take it off.”

“that’s not healthy. in fact, that’s so unhealthy that-”

“i said i’m not ready. can we drop it?”

“why not?” she asks, and you feel tears start to build along your eyes. “oh jeez, speak of the devil.” you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder, turning to face rafe.

“can i have a minute?” he says, looking at kie.

“no. you can’t have any,” comes her reply, until you look back.

“kie, i’ll be right back.”

you and rafe walk, ignoring the shout of your friend to not go, to an empty spot by the fire.

“didn’t think you’d come here,” rafe says, quietly. you look at your shoes to avoid looking into his eyes.

“they dragged me along… trying to make me meet someone new.”

“yeah? is it working?”

“i just told my best friend i’m not ready to take your necklace off, so, what’d you think-” rafe stops you, his hand coming up to lift your chin to make you meet his eyes finally. he presses his lip to yours—it feels different than the hundreds of times he’s kissed you before. your eyes flutter shut, a sole tear spilling down your cheek.

you wonder if everyone’s looking. you decide you don’t really care.

“i told ya not to take that necklace off.”

“i listened, rafe,” you breathe softly.

“i know,” he says, kissing you again and then pulling away. “you’re a good girl. you always listen. i’m done with this crap, and i don’t care what your idiot friends say. not staying away from you. no one can make me, not even you.”

“i don’t want you to stay away.” rafe takes the pendant with his initial into his fingers, playing with it before letting it fall against your chest.

“good. now go tell them you’re coming home with me and let’s get outta here.”

#lolll #this is one of those things you write for yourself n get embarrassed to post #this ones like.... you and rafe are broken up but 'broken up' means nothing to him #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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theminecraftbee · 7 months

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Tango makes a terrible, terrible face as he walks into Grian's new creation. Bit rude, he thinks that is, but whatever. Grian waves his arms out, getting ready to show Tango more than he'd shown him when the practice room was still in-progress, when Tango says:

"What did you do to it?"

"Huh?"

Tango shudders. He folds his arms over himself and looks at Jellie the ravager. "What did you do to it. To this place. Why is it... warm?"

"I mean, it's not really warm, see it's all white so it actually doesn't retain heat very well, even with the froglamps, so I had to do some work to make sure the temperature was appropriate for heavy physical activity while not risking frostbite the way the actual dungeon does, and..."

Grian trails off.

"The point is that it's mostly just, I don't know, mild temperature? Unnoticeable temperature? The fact you commented on it is weird."

There's a strangely echoing quality to Tango's voice as he steps back again, against the door to the practice room. "It's clean."

"Yeah. I mean, that's the aesthetic, isn't it? Wiped clean of everything but the ravager, the water, and the drowned. None of the distractions. Good for practicing, you know?" Grian squints. "You should like it. You said you'd like it. Wanted people to be able to practice so they'd do better at the dungeon."

Tango shudders again. "You've wiped clean the ravagers, too. I can't... touch her."

"What?" Grian says, baffled.

"What have you done to this place," Tango says.

"Listen, I won't have you insulting my clean room," Grian says. "I cleaned it of all the dungeon bits. It's nice and easy and white and understandable. I won't have you corrupting it."

Hm. Not sure where that one came from, he realizes. Probably a bad sign. He'd certainly guess as much from Tango, who is staring at him with something akin to horror.

In a voice that echoes like a card readout, Tango says: "You won't do this in the dungeon. You'll feed us what's left from this. Or I'll have to ask you to move it."

Grian rolls his eyes. "Geez, yeah, I won't touch the actual dungeon! I already broke the sound test room, I'm not breaking any really important redstone. Now, do you want to see the drowned dodging room or not?"

"I'm horrified to find out what happened to the drowned, if this is your ravager."

Grian looks between Jellie's blank stare and Tango and throws up his hands. "Nothing! I did nothing to her! I have no idea what you're on about!"

"It's like you bleached their insides," mutters Tango. "Bleached everything. It's not natural."

"Not natural? Like you're one to talk!"

"I need to know. Show me," Tango says.

"Right then. Take off your armor first, I don't want Jellie getting thorned or something, then let's practice some dodging and get in there. Then you'll see this is a perfectly normal set of eerie white rooms and leave me alone, right?"

Tango makes a face.

"I don't know why I bother. Honestly. You'd think I'd done something weird," Grian says, and then neither of them talk much, on account of the ravager trying to chew their faces.

#hermitcraft #decked out 2 #a bee fic #grian #tangotek #tango voice: what the fuck. how did you do this to the dungeon. what the FUCK #grian voice: what could i have possibly done. i just bleached the entire thing of everything that gave it life and made it hollow.#tango voice: WHAT THE FUCK #anyway i love how OPPOSITE the aesthetic of the practice room is to the actual dungeon #and how that is still somehow terrifying #also this one’s funnier if you read it as being in the universe where tango was COMPLETELY eaten because then it’s decked out itself #just going ‘what the fuck’ real quietly on repeat #but you can also read it as a universe where decked out and tango are more mutually the same thing or communicate or whatever you want

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fragileruns · 1 year

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Hi! Could you make a One shot where James Potter is a barista and he's completely in love with a girl that's always going to get coffee after her classes?

Something with a lot of fluff♡

i’m so in love with james potter it hurts. genuinely hurts. hope you enjoy this !

summary: james thinks you’re the prettiest girl to ever walk into his coffee shop, and he finally works up the nerve to ask you out.

warnings: super fluffy, james being helplessly in love, nervous james, i think that’s it? brief mention of sirius

James is not-so patiently waiting for you to walk through the doors of his coffee shop, eyes glancing at the door every moment he can spare.

You always came in around this time, every Monday, Tuesday, and Friday. Always ordering the same thing before going to sit at an empty table and start working away on your laptop.

James always watches you. Not in a stalker-like way, or at least he hopes not. You’re just so pretty that it’s impossible for him not to look. He thinks if he had more nerve, he’d have asked you out by now.

Finally, the bell rings signaling that someone had walked in, and his eyes snap up much too fast, a grin breaking out on his face once he realizes it’s you.

“My favorite customer. I was starting to think you wouldn’t show,” he spoke, glancing at the clock. You were a bit later than usual, but you came. That was what mattered to him. “Just your usual?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, James,” you sounded preoccupied, and you had bags underneath your eyes. As beautiful as ever, but clearly overworked.

“You alright? You’re usually more chipper,” he frowned, trying not to seem like he spent too much time studying you, even though he definitely did. Every waking moment was spent waiting for you to walk through the doors.

“I’m okay. Finals are coming up, and I… I think I may completely fail, and I’ll have to drop out and become a stripper. Or worse.”

“Don’t be silly. You can always work here, I’m sure Sirius would appreciate the company,” he teased, smiling wider when you flipped him off. “I’m joking. You won’t fail, you’re like, the smartest person I know.”

“The only thing you really know about me is my coffee order,” you responded, reaching for the mug he sat in front of you as soon as he finished making it. You should’ve felt bad for the other customers, you were taking up all of James’ time. He didn’t seem to mind.

“False. I also know you like doughnuts,” James added, sliding a doughnut across the counter for you.

You reluctantly broke your grumpy facade and gave him a smile, one that he swore caused his heart to stop. “Thank you, James.”

He couldn’t make himself speak, too awe-struck to form any words. So, he simply nodded and watched as you walked over to your normal table, one that faced out the window.

James went back to serving everyone else, looking over at you every once in a while. (Truthfully, it was probably every other minute.) You were hard at work, and he ached to be able to smooth out the crease in your forehead as you focused on your paper.

A couple hours went by, and you were still working. James was starting to get worried. You always worked hard, but you already seemed so stressed and tired. And as much as he loved having you sit in his coffee shop, he was sure you’d be much more comfortable at home.

He slid off his apron, calling out to Sirius that he was taking his break before he walked over to your table. “Mind if I sit with you?”

“Hm?” You had questioned, too focused on your laptop to even recognize that someone was talking to you, until you finally looked up to see a curly mop of hair. You smiled and nodded your head. “Oh — yeah, sure. Of course.”

“You looked like you needed a break.”

Your eyes widened a bit, as if you hadn’t realized how long you had been there. Your eyes snapped up to the clock, wincing slightly. “I didn’t realize how long I’d been here. Sorry. Am I hogging the table?”

“What? No. No. You’re not, I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay. You’ve been working hard. Too hard,” James was quick to explain, forcing his hand to stay by his side rather than reaching up to tuck the stray piece of hair out of your face.

“I’m okay. Do you check on all of your customers this way?” You questioned, a hint of a smile on your face, like you knew he didn’t. Like you knew about this crush he’s been harboring on you for ages.

Part of him hopes you do know.

“Only the pretty ones.” He flirted, mentally high-fiving himself whenever he saw the blush on your cheeks. It gave him the slightest confidence boost, which was exactly what he needed.

“Do you want to go to dinner with me?”

You seemed to snap back into reality, looking at him. Then behind you, as if he could be speaking to anyone else.

“Tonight? Now?”

“No, no. Not tonight. Just… you know, some time when you’re free. After finals, if you want. We can celebrate or — or you know, whatever.” The confidence he previously held was slowly dwindling, as he fully prepared for what he thought was going to be rejection. “Or we can do something else. If you want. Like, um, see a movie. Get coffee. You know, just — just whatever.”

“James,” you started, and he hadn’t noticed the grin on your face until your voice broke his ramble. It almost calmed him. “Are you asking me out?”

“No. I mean, yes. Maybe. Do you want it to be me asking you out?”

You cleared your throat, willing yourself not to laugh as you shut your laptop. “If you are asking me out, then I’d say I’m free next Friday. And I’d love to do anything with you. Except, maybe not get coffee. It wouldn’t be anything special,” you started, and James felt the sigh of relief that left him. “But, if you’re not, I’m free next Friday, but I’m sincerely disappointed.”

“Oh. Well, then I was definitely asking you out. Just in a horrible, embarrassing way.” He confirmed, doing hs best to keep his cool. To not bounce with excitement. He felt he was failing, he was sure you could see right through him.

“It was cute. I’ll meet you here next Friday? Normal time, or?” You questioned, packing your things back into your bag and standing up from the table as you looked at him.

“Normal time. That’s, that’s definitely okay.” His hair flopped with his eager nod, standing up along with you.

“Okay, cool. And James?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you. So, you know, don’t freak out when it happens.”

“You’re — you’re gonna kiss me? Like, now?” He questioned, glancing around at everyone who was watching. Not that he cared, he’d probably kiss you in front of the entire world and be smug about it.

“No,” you laughed, and James felt his heart break slightly. “When I see you. Next Friday.”

“Oh. Right, that makes more sense,” he nodded, watching as you left, giggling and smiling. He was half disappointed, half excited.

And he knew he’d be counting down the seconds until you showed back up in his coffee shop.

#james potter x reader #marauders x reader #james potter fluff #marauders fluff #james potter blurbs #james potter x you #james potter drabbles #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter au

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spocktheestallion · 2 years

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for a tragedy the iliad is pretty funny. compiled some of my favorite things about it (not in chronological order)

- patroclus barely speaks for most of the book but EVERYBODY loves him. like he’s literally the entire greek camp’s precious meow meow. the ORIGINAL sweet little meow meow. even the GODS are sad and feel bad when he dies. even HOMER loves patroclus, always calling him “faultless patroclus” “my patroclus” “gentle patroclus” “sweet patroclus” WE GET IT. achilles, briseis, menelaus, ajax, literally every member of the greek camp is down ATROCIOUS for patroclus all bc he’s just one Really Nice Dude. just one very Sweet and Polite Fella. one Extra Special Guy <3 his whole narrative purpose is simply to be everyone’s special little scrunkly

- in one of the MANY passages where achilles is lamenting about how sad it is that patroclus is dead he promises patroclus’ corpse that he will have many deep-bosomed trojan and dardanian women weep for him. he tells his dead buddy “i will get the absolute THICKEST hoes with the BIGGEST mommy milkers for your funeral” honestly? id be honored

- all the arguments escalate so quickly. an old man very politely appeals to agamemnon to pretty please give his daughter back and offers him a huge fortune for her and agamemnon calls him a crotchety old bitch and tells him he’ll fucking kill him if he ever sees him again

- that same old man is a priest of apollo. you know, the plague god? anyway priest calls in a favor and apollo curses the greeks with a plague

- to address this, achilles decides to resolve it by calling all the greeks together and passive aggressively going “HM! i WONDER what could have caused a PLAGUE! it’s almost like we OFFENDED the PLAGUE GOD somehow. now WHAT could WE (cough agamemnon) done to offend the PLAGUE GOD?????” all in front of agamemnon

- zeus spends most of the book desperately trying to keep the gods OUT of the war. then once he’s finally had enough he just calls them all together and says “go nuts” and then they do

- artemis talks shit on the battlefield so hera calls her a bitch, steals her bow, and beats her with it. artemis then goes back to zeus and cries

- polydamas says to hector “hey you killed patroclus and achilles is gonna be fucking pissed. we should probably go back to the city while we can” and hector calls him a bitch and tells him to stfu. achilles then chases them back to the city and hector decides to stay outside and get killed by achilles instead of going in with the rest of the army bc he didn’t wanna hear polydamas say “i told you so”

- diomedes is about to fight with a guy called glaucus but then they realize their ancestors were friends or something so they decide not to kill each other, and diomedes says “hey! why don’t we even trade armor! :) just as a show of friendship! :))” and glaucus is like “yeah sure!” and gives diomedes his really nice gold plated armor while glaucus gets diomedes’ shitty plain bronze armor

- achilles makes a bitchy comment to his horses about leaving patroclus to die and the horse momentarily gains the ability to talk just to tell achilles it wasn’t THEIR goddamn fault, tells achilles he’s gonna die soon, and then goes back to being a normal horse.

- zeus with his daughters: oh child ❤️ oh my dear ❤️ oh there there i didn’t really mean it ❤️ sweetie why don’t you go help the greeks?❤️

- zeus with his sons: “ares you fucking donkey”

- everyone calling paris a stupid coward bitch every time they see him. all of troy fucking hates him. hector fucking hates him. helen fucking hates him.

- paris getting dressed up in fancy armor and prancing to the front lines going “i’ll fight ANY of you greeks!” and menelaus (the guy whose wife he stole) goes “alright bet” and paris nearly pisses his pants and tries to hide but then his brother hector calls him a piece of shit and tells him he hopes he dies and makes him fight menelaus. menelaus promptly ROCKS HIS SHIT. literally starts dragging him by his helmet like a rag doll, would’ve killed him if aphrodite hadn’t teleported paris outta there (BOO)

#the iliad #iliad memes #homer’s iliad #achilles #patroclus

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y0ur-loca1-lyr3 · 2 months

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Alastor when falling in love/dating headcanons

A/N; my first time trying headcanons lol, hope I did well!

Falling in love

Let’s be honest, Alastor rarely actually likes most beings as a friend, let alone as a romantic partner

But when he does for either scenario, he has to notice that person as more than just some pawn for entertainment

Maybe you’re more socially intelligent, maybe you have more power, maybe you’re closer to Charlie, maybe all of those

But there has to be something that makes him see you as a threat to his power, or his control

Because of this when you first enter the hotel, he’s going to try to upstage you

If he can find a flaw about you, he’ll utilize that to the max

Think how he acted around Lucifer in ‘Dad beat Dad’

But when he notices you’re not going to be intimidated by him he starts to grow angry

If you really wanna ruffle his feathers just ask “uhm…who are you..?”

Not even in a polite way, just in a rude judgmental way

Oh, that makes his blood boil

When he’s not around you, at first he’s trying to get rid of you, take away the threat

But then you leave for a long period of time without notice to anyone but husk

And not even sober husk

So basically nobody really knows where the hell you went (pun intended)

The first maybe hour or two Alastor was like “good riddance”

But then for some damn reason he started to miss you

If you’re gone for more than one day, his mood actually visibly changes

Sure he’s still smiling, but he’s still a bit less motivated to do things

And he’s probably having troubles with coming up with ideas for his radio broadcast

Then you come back and he’s back to normal

It’s like his subconscious went “oh, cool :D”

But now that brings up another obstacle for him

As established before he wants any threats out of his way, but he somehow has grown attached to you?

This wasn’t what he wanted, no not at all

Now what was he supposed to do?

Even worse is the realization that he still has humanity

Humanity is weakness

And if some like say… Vox found out about this?

He’d be royally fucked

It takes a looong while for him to figure out that A. It was love, and B. Come to terms with that

Lots of avoidance and back handed comments

If you sat at the bar? He’d leave

If you tried to compliment him, you’d only get a short “Hm.”

If you invited him to talk with you, even just to get to know him he’d make an excuse

And if Charlie attempts to force him he will refuse/ escape in some way

Blowing up and asking him what his problem is won’t help either

He’ll sit there with a patient smile with petty thoughts, and justifications for his actions running through his head as he tried to appear unfazed

Until someone interrupts/ ends the conversation or you just give up and leave

He’ll leave while rolling his eyes slightly, muttering about how sensitive people are these days

Once he does finally come to terms with it, he’s less hostile around you

Don’t get me wrong he still avoids you like the plague because you’re his only weakness

But he’s kinder to you when he does interact with you

Maybe he’ll offer to pay for your drink before leaving

He might even leave a little box of homemade chocolates at your door, or give you some ‘leftover’ Jambalaya he made specifically for you to try

Little favors like that

Dating

It’s never really said aloud that the two of you are dating

It just was sort of agreed upon silently between the two of you

One day he invited you via letter to come skygaze with him at his radio tower

At first you’re kind of suspicious that he has an ulterior motive

But when you get there and you’re invited to sit beside Alastor, you realize he just wanted to see you. Why? You didn’t know, but at least his intentions weren’t ill

Then he crossed his pinky with yours

Nothing grand like kissing, he’s not too fond of physical affection

But just a small bit of contact

If you choose to interlock your pinky with his, internally he’ll lose his mind

It’s like confirmation that you feel the same way without verbally saying it

Since then everyone just sort of knew at the very least he cared a bit more about you

He’d frequently talk with you

Like how most people would interact with good friends

Except he gets a little more protective of you

There’ll be a shadow that follows you everywhere

Sometimes the shadow will tease a bit

Maybe pick up a piece of hair and then put back in place quick, or maybe brush against your arm, nothing harmful, really

Since he doesn’t really show his love through physical affection, he shows it through gifts or acts of service

Mainly acts of service

You’ll often go back to your room after a hard day to find your bed made and your pillows fluffed with a new stuffed animal on your bed

His favorite way to show his affection physically is by your hand

He won’t really hold your hand outright, but he’ll usually gently kiss it after saying something romantic

Maybe if your sitting at the bar, talking with Husk he will

When he’s feeling especially happy, or romantic, or he somehow got wasted, he’ll give you a peck on the lips, but that’s about the only time you two really kiss

He will cuddle if you ask to but otherwise he doesn’t really do cuddling

The first time you tell him you love him, even just as a quick goodbye, he’ll melt on the inside

If you look close enough you can see his eyes soften a tad bit

He’ll probably say “you too” if the both of you are in public, or something along those lines, but if you’re in private, maybe cuddling or as he’s comforting you for some reason

He’ll say it softly, and then most likely give you a small head pat, or if he’s getting really sentimental, he’ll give you a peck on the forehead

All in all, he does love you, he just sort of shows it in his own way that he’s comfortable with <3

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yanderederee · 9 months

Text

Thinking about teasing Baji...

Hehe I literally just wrote this out of the blue .. just a silly little idea

Thinking about how Baji’s always the one initiating the teasing when in public; smoothing his hand over your back, and massaging your hips while you’re in line waiting for a movie. Or how he will chuckle an octave lower than normal into your ear before sighing into it to send shivers to your core. He plays unfair, and when you start to feel needy, he’ll grin all the wider and back you into a corner.

“What’s got you all bothered? Me? I ain’t even done anything. Hm~ how cute, was that all it took to get you clinging to me like this? I haven’t even touched you babe, don’t be dramatic now…”

But right now, he looks so unbothered, sitting so care free, chatting with Mikey on the other end of the table. They already finished their first plate of food, while you were still working on the half eaten meal in front of you. Feeling the dish was just a little too bland, you glanced across the table to spot the complimentary seasonings. You’d have to reach across Baji, but he probably wouldn’t mind, let alone notice.

As you wiggle a little closer, you snake one arm in between Baji’s spread thighs. With the added leverage and support, you would be able to reach the seasonings. Baji would probably be annoyed if you asked him to hand you whichever one you wanted. A harsh ‘tsk’ sound left Baji, as though he was about to bark at you. But rather than, he took a sharp and deep breath in. The unintentional gasp caught you off guard, as you reached and took hold of your condiment of choice. With wide eyes, you snapped your head back to see what made Baji gasp in your ear the way he had.

…

Only to just realize how close you were to his crotch. Your line of sight teetered back and forth before giving an innocent giggle. You had only brushed the material of his jeans, yet he reacted so sweetly? “What’s wrong darling, I haven’t even touched you?” You whispered back before settling back in your seat, as though nothing had occurred.

Mikey was simply laughing his ASS off. “The hell was that?! Since when we’re you such a weak little virgin?” His friend made fun as though it were first time seeing Baji react so embarrassed. “Shut the FUCK up Mikey!!” Baji yelled back, pushing the table into Manjiro’s chest full throttle, winding the poor blonde. “And you!” Baji reeled back, face absolutely red with embarrassment at his own vulnerability.

Any words Keisuke had for you were instantly lost in his throat. The second you scrunched up your shoulders and batted your innocent little lashes in his direction, all rage died then and there. “…. What the hell…” he sighed, holding his head in his hands. “Viirrrgin~” Mikey giggled again, successfully dodging the second round of attacks Baji threw out in reply.

“It startled me damnit! Stop getting the wrong fucking idea, you bastard!”

Poor Baji, caught off guard and helpless… but now that you knew how and when to tease him, how could you stop?♡

Hehe

#i wish I could just write stuff #:/#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #baji x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #baji keisuke #baji #baji keisuke x reader #keisuke baji x reader #keisuke baji #soft yandere #Manjiro sano #Mikey #tokyo revengers mikey

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lubilli · 10 months

Text

𝗸𝗻𝘆 𝗵𝗰𝘀 ➠ "what's after like?"

synopsis: you know you and him arent just friends.

ft. rengoku, giyu, sanemi, obanai, muichiro, tengen

warnings: fem! reader

"you and i is more than like." ive, after like

r. kyojuro

• most people would assume that you two are dating at first glance

• you didn't mind it because you knew that you were just friends even if people didn't agree

• but sometimes you wonder if maybe you are more than just friends

• maybe not lovers but maybe not "just friends" either.

• maybe the way he's always all over you isn't something that "just friends" do

• maybe the way he always has his hands on you isn't something that "just a friend" would do

• maybe there's much more going on that you previously failed to realize.

• but then again, maybe he's just like that

• but every time he wraps his arms around your waist, you wonder if maybe there could be something a little bit more.

• "kyojuro?" you look up at him with your head on his shoulder

• "yes, y/n?" he smiles at you

• "have you ever thought...that maybe we aren't just friends?"

• he nods, "quite often, actually. but i never knew how i should've discussed it with you."

• you remove your head from his shoulder, "we're definitely not just friends. so, what are we?"

• "maybe...lovers?" he tilts his head.

• "probably lovers."

t. giyu

• giyu isn't one to really be "best friends" with someone

• so it's safe to say that you were surprised at the fact that he wanted to be friends with you

• giyu also isn't one to initiate physical contact with someone

• so it's also safe to say that you were surprised when he randomly hugged you from behind one day, his chin resting on your shoulder.

• however, it's a normal thing now. you don't mind it.

• until one day, mitsuri brought it up.

• "i'm glad you finally started dating giyu." she said

• you chuckled, "i'm not dating giyu. i promise you, we're nothing more than friends."

• "oh please, you think giyu would go around being all lovey-dovey with anyone? i mean, sometimes he seriously makes me wonder if maybe he's the actual love hashira!"

• you laughed at her joke, "even if we are a little more than friends, what's there that i can do about it?" you shrugged

• "ask him about it!" she exclaimed

• "y'know what, maybe i will."

• that brings you to your current situation.

• "giyu, i have to talk to you about something."

• "feel free." he nods

• "i don't think we should be friends anymore."

• "if that's what you want, i'm fine with it."

• "wait, no, that came out terribly. i mean that i think we should be something...more?"

• he smiles, "your wish is my command, y/n."

s. sanemi

• when you became friends, people automatically assumed you were dating which you couldn't blame them for. it's SANEMI we're talking about right now.

• sanemi being nice to someone? that's a literal miracle babe

• you didn't care at first

• but things got heated.

• and before you knew it, there was definitely something going on

• still, you were a little in denial.

• "y/n," sanemi taps your shoulder.

• "yes?" you look back at him, turning to face him

• "kiss me."

• "kiss me" is a normal thing to hear from sanemi now. but you doubt it's a normal thing to hear from just a friend.

• still, you comply. just a small peck on the lips isn't much, right?

• "another one,"

• shit escalated and now you're pressed up against the wall by sanemi

• "sanemi?" you ask the boy who's working his magic on your neck, leaving bite marks and hickeys.

• "hm?" he looks up at you

�� "why do you ask for kisses so often? we're just friends."

• he scoffs, "bunny, you've gotta be delusional if you think we're just friends. i mean, look at us." he smirks

• "you're right, but then, what are we?"

• "does it matter? as long as i've got you and you've got me, we're fine. aren't we?"

• "but i need confirmation." you pout

• "then we'll be whatever you want us to be. i don't mind as long you're fine with it." he shrugs.

• "lovers it is?" you smile.

• "lovers it is." he returns the smile.

i. obanai

• obanai is also not one to easily befriend

• but you've caught him staring at you sometimes so you weren't too surprised when he asked to befriend you

• but you were quite surprised when you realized that he's actually a really good friend

• considering that you were almost always around him, people assumed you must be dating

• you didn't even know people assumed that

• until today, at a little "hashira get-together" that shinobu planned at her estate.

• all of the hashira were present, including your favorite snake boy. "obanai!" you waved from afar

• his attention immediately turns to you, who's approaching him. you sit beside him, making conversation until another hashira joins you too

• it was tengen, and he was mainly conversing with you. few minutes pass and sanemi joins in on your conversation. obanai is still part of the conversation, yet he chooses not to be.

• truth is, obanai always got jealous of the people who you give attention to. it doesn't help that, most of the time, they are obviously hitting on you.

• he glares at the two hashira talking to you, looking like he has murder on his mind.

• "are you and obanai dating?" tengen asks you.

• "no, we're just friends." you laugh.

• "really? because i'm sure he's planning on murdering me and tengen right now." sanemi points to obanai.

• after the get-together, you and obanai were taking a stroll under the pale moonlight.

• "we're just friends, huh?" he crosses his arms.

• "are we not?" you tilt your head

• "i don't know, but i don't think friends touch each other the way we do. friends don't act how we do, and you know that." his voice was laced with frustration and anger.

• "then, what are we?"

• "what do you think?" his voice was more aggressive than you'd expected.

• "lovers...?"

• "obviously." he rolls his eyes before wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

t. muichiro

• he slowly opened up to you during your cloud-watching sessions and that's what got you two so close

• he follows you around like a lost puppy when he's not cloud-watching or on a mission

• "oh look, there's y/n. muichiro must be nearby." was what people thought when they saw you

• that, and the possibility that you and the airhead mist hashira might be dating.

• maybe because he'd always cuddle up with you.

• he lay with his head in your lap and pointed at certain clouds. "y/n, look at that one!" he points. "it reminds me of you."

• you shift your attention to where he was pointing and saw a heart-shaped cloud. you entangle your fingers in his hair, "muichiro..have you ever thought that we don't act like friends?"

• "what do you mean?"

• "like..we act like we're dating even though we aren't."

• i'm gonna be honest, he fr thought you were dating

• "we're not??? 😨"

• he never understood that you actually have to ask a person out so he automatically just assumed you were dating 😭

• "no?? did you think we were dating?"

• "yes..i've been telling everyone that you're my girlfriend!"

• "muichiro!" you face-palm. "how about we actually make things official?"

• he nods, "that would be good."

• "then, from this moment on, we'll be lovers."

• "so i can call you my girlfriend for real?"

• "yes, you can call me your girlfriend for real."

u. tengen

• you didn't know what to expect when you signed up for a friendship with tengen uzui

• but it definitely wasn't dating rumors

• but the rumors became more...understandable? when you really payed attention to his actions

• even before you became friends, this man would subtly flirt with you NON STOP

• "you look very flashy today, y/n!"

• "i literally look the same everyday"

• "you look very flashy everyday, y/n!"

• people are aware that you're not dating him, but they're also aware that THE tengen uzui, god of festivals, wouldn't let just anyone sit on his lap.

• "c'mere," tengen pats his lap

• you leave the chair you were previously sitting on and make your way towards him, not thinking twice before sitting down.

• he hugs your waist, something he hasn't done before.

• "we're just friends, right?" you look at him to confirm

• he shrugs, "prolly not."

• "then what are we?"

• "i decided you to be my fourth wife a long time ago."

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melodygatesauthor · 5 months

Text

Goodnight, Princess

Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 5.7k

I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.

Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.

I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?

Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret.

Our secret.

I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.

Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.

I never thought I’d find you there.

Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?

They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.

I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across.

When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…

But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.

That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.

—

There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.

I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?

I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.

I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.

“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.

Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.

But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.

Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.

Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.

I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.

I’ll see you on Friday, princess.

—

It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.

Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.

Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.

Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.

“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.

Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.

—

The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.

I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.

When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.

I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.

—

A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.

You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”

You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.

I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.

Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.

“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.

He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.

You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.

“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.

That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.

When you said, “mm, harder, please…”

I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”

I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.

You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.

I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.

You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will.

For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.

“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.

—

You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.

I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.

Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.

So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.

Or maybe I hope I don’t.

I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.

—

I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.

My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.

I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.

God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine.

I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”

It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.

You liked it.

At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.

I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?

Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.

I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.

I’m not going to go too far.

—

I went to your house today.

I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.

Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.

I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?

Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?

If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.

Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that?

Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.

You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.

I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?

You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.

You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.

Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?

It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart.

I just don’t.

—

I lost it today.

I really fucking lost it today, princess.

I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?

I found him.

I…

—

Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.

You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.

After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.

Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.

“Santi,” you said sweetly.

I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.

“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.

You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.

I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.

“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.

I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.

“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.

When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?

Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.

You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.

I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.

Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.

You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.

Thank god.

I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.

“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”

I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.

I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.

I’m not sure what to do now.

I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while.

If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.

Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.

Goodnight, princess.

Back to Main Masterlist

Back to Triple Frontier Masterlist

#santiago garcia #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santi x reader #santiago #garcia #santiago garcia x you #santi garcia x reader #santi garcia x you #santi garcia fanficiton #santi garcia fan fiction #santi garcia fanfic #santi garcia fan fic #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia fan fiction

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ohbo-ohno · 6 months

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I'm gripping the bars of my cage desperately, I'm chewing at the bars, begging, pleading for more zombie ghoap x reader au.

zombie ghoap x reader au coming right up chef 🫡

btw this is super similar to charliemwrites' jaw dropping ghoap x reader "the (scottish) cabin in the woods" so you need to go read that immediately (and leave a nice comment because charlie rocks)

cw for noncon puppyplay below the cut

i was talking to ceilidh a tiny bit about this earlier, and i think that johnny and reader met in like a cannibal cult kinda thing. very much so like that episode of TLOU, yknow? they both think they've found a little commune safe haven, but it very quickly becomes clear that that's not the case.

anyways, they end up trying to get out together when they realize what's going on, and have to kill a few of the cult members :/ they've been "stuck together" ever since

they threaten to leave the other for dead (or kill them in the middle of the night) constantly. it hasn't happened yet, obviously, but boy oh boy do both of them bring it up nonstop. they act like they hate each other, but honestly they just need to fuck

but they're sorta stuck together now. you're better off paired up with someone than on your own, that's something they both learned pre-cult fiasco. and, really, they don't dislike each other nearly as much as you might think based on the way they gripe

enter ghost. he spots these two survivors wandering through the forest, one injured and both filthy, and basically thinks to himself "hm. could be good in home entertainment"

(here's the deal with puppyplay like this - it's absurd, and we're just going with it. alright??? just WORK with me here)

if you didn't see, i put in the tags of the original post "#btw - he takes you home then chains you both up outside and says something like “this is where dogs stay” :/#dont worry you're perfectly safe (he has a high fence keeping zombies out) but he likes to hear how scared you get when you're out there all#you're both quite well behaved when he lets you in for dinner the next night <3#he only has to scold you once when you both complain about being made to eat while kneeling on the floor next to him"

you're probably both "behaving" because you don't want him to. you know. fucking KILL YOU. but this is also a zombie apocalypse au, so you're both totally feral too. and this is an apocalypse ghost too, which means he's probably way harsher and way rougher around the edges than he even is in canon

anyways i think soap and reader here are more likely to be like "lets wait this out and try to escape when he's not expecting it" except they're like... really bad at trying to play along

ANYWAYS!!!! ghost takes you two back to his compound, ties the both of you up outside for the night. he wraps soap's ankle first, gives him a stern command to stay off of it, and goes back inside like everything is normal. he watches you two over the camera while planning out how he'll build some outdoor kennels for the two of you

you're both cold and tired and hungry and scared the next morning, so it doesn't take much coaxing on his part to get you inside. it takes a lot more coaxing to keep you two on your knees :/

honestly johnny's ankle is so fucked that it's almost a relief to keep pressure off of it (even if it means crawling around on the floor like an animal) but you care a hell of a lot more. ghost threatens to break your ankles before you finally listen :/

he ties the leashes to your wrists, to keep you both out of trouble as much as he can. it's not like either of you are eager to go very far - his house is warm and you're both chilled to the bone from your night outisde

anyways. that's all i've got like, linearly. but i can offer some random little tidbits about their lives after

ghost makes you both eat from the floor. he gives you plates (no silverware) at first and lets you use your hands, and gradually works the two of you up to eating from bowls with just your mouths

you and johnny bicker constantly and simon frequently makes the two of you kiss to make up :( forces you to make out with each other while he smokes a cigarette and enjoys the show. no matter how mad you are, you both end up needy and humping the air when he finally lets you stop

he tries to have you two sleep in the same crate, but it does not go well. ghost very quickly realizes that you two will try to tear each other's throats out if forced that closely together for an entire night

sometimes one of you will try to get the other in trouble. there's one particular night where you trick johnny into misbehaving and he's stuck in the outside kennel all night - but it rains. and every time you glance out the window you see how sad and cold he looks :((( ghost lets you love on him the next morning, and soap is more than eager for a bit of comfort after such a miserable night

#sometimes i giggle putting a cw for noncon puppyplay cause like. why are you following me if you DONT like that lmao #but then i remember this stuff pops up in people's recommended. and i tag it properly #asks and answers #ghoap x reader #zombie apocalypse ghoap x reader

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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months

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Helped my parents in our garden today and just couldn’t stop thinking about König x florist!reader.

Just imagine peacefully working in your flower shop when a guy walks in, looking for the perfect bouquet for his date/partner but he’s accompanied by this massive mountain of a man. He is clearly far too big for the small space of your shop, and just looks so out of place. Whilst you’re serving his friend, König can’t keep his eyes off you, asking you everything and anything about flowers. What they mean, where they originally come from…just anything! And when you name a flower, he mumbles its German name. "We also have peonies for example." "Ah, yes, Pfingstrosen. They are very beautiful." like you

And shortly before he and his friend leave, this sweet giant asks you what your favourite flower is!!

Plus, picture me this: It’s a more rare or exotic flower, which you don’t easily get in normal flower shops. But he gets them regardless, just to see that ethereal smile on your face again!!

I had to share this, because I am melting…

This is so sweet! König bringing flowers to his heartthrob even if she’s a goddamn florist is canon for me now 🩷

I had another quick imagine with this setting, I hope you like it anon!

Florist!Reader who explains everything there is to know about flowers to this hulking man who seems so very interested in them that you could almost think he wants to be a florist himself.

But then you notice it’s you he looks keenly when you speak; not the flowers. You get flustered soon and start to prattle about stupid things such as how brides are the worst customers: so demanding and bossy usually, don’t they know that peonies are seasonal like every other flower, even if this is a flower shop you can’t get all the things with the flick of a wrist from December to May!

Then you realize you’ve just babbled nonsense about weddings and brides and floral wreaths for about 5 minutes straight... and the gentle giant is still looking at you like you’re the flower he wants to take home instead of all the beautiful varieties in the display cabinet. He’s smiling, too. Softly, as you close your loose mouth and look up at him with sudden shyness.

“And which flowers would you pick for your own wedding wreath...?”

There is an awkward silence that follows as your eyes widen from his question. He realizes his blunder immediately and swallows – suddenly shy just like you are.

“I’m sorry. I mean, if you are not yet married…”

“I’m not married,” you quickly say and swallow the following “I don’t even have a boyfriend” that tries to come out of your mouth.

Hope sparks alive in his eyes again, and you’re feeling like swooning right there on the floor of your old little flower shop. His smile is warm, even if everything else in this man is rather intimidating and tense. And Christ, no one has ever asked you that. No one except this big, silent, shy giant of a man – the kind of shy that probably turns absolutely crazy and feral in bed... Your cheeks heat up just from the thought.

“Ah. Is that so? Surprising,” he comments on you being free, or at least not yet married. “How come that is?”

“I guess I haven’t yet… found the right one,” you try to hint to this man that you’re absolutely single, free, with no strings attached whatsoever to anyone or anywhere.

“Hm. That makes two of us,” he says and smiles again.

The hotness on your cheeks only gets worse when the giant's friend sighs audibly a few feet away – he's just trying to choose a bouquet and didn't know he'd have to suffer the awkward but oddly successful flirting of his mate.

“Get a room, you two...”

#florist!reader x könig #cute hot and sweet #awkward flirting #answered

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l0vem41l · 6 months

Note

Can I request a Jonathan ohnn or Spot fic with a one bed trope. I need some fluff with this dude

one bed.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited asf, reader and johnathan are awkward, pre-collider, it's silly, fluff (???), I ACC LOVE THIS TROPE... FORCE THE PROXIMITY!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. the spot/johnathan ohnn

author's note: YES!!! tried 2 write with less story and more,, headcanon-y cuz im low on brain juice,,, so sorry!!! o(ˉ▽ˉ；)ブ

▸ whatever scenario has brought you to the situation you are now in, he will adamantly refuse when you offer to sleep on the floor, too concerned for your comfort to let you do such a thing for him.

will NOT suggest that the two you share the bed though. not outright at least.....

▸ will kinda look at you for a moment like "ohhh whatever shall we dooooo?" like boy,,,, ur UNSUBTLE.

▸ when you suggest it (trying to find a compromise where both of are comfortable), he's not quick to accept. yes, he wants to SAY YES, but he'll act apprehensive about it, just so he doesn't seem too eager.

doesn't wanna make it off-putting to you or make you feel uncomfortable, so he'll act like he need to think about for a bit. asks you a few hundred times if you're really okay with it.

the minute he does agree, he instantly promises you plenty of space, as much blanket as you want– and will even set up a pillow barrier.

▸ "dude."

"hm?" he's halfway to organizing the extra pillows to divide his space on the bed from yours. he seems determined with the task at hand, not even looking up at you when you speak.

you're unsure whether to sigh or laugh at his antics. "don't overthink it, johnathan. it's fine."

his shoulders visibly relax at the assertion that you're okay with it. he glances up, sheepishly meeting your eyes. "oh... yeah- yeah, you're right. sorry. hold on."

a light chuckle escapes your lips, as you help him rearrange the pillows, tearing down the barrier. "nah. it's okay."

your hands brush as you both reach for the same pillow and he looks up at you biting the inside of his cheek and desperately trying to Act Normal

▸ once you've both gotten ready and are actually in bed, you can FEEL the tension in the room. it's a horrible silence where both of you are holding your breath, waiting for the other to say something.

you're lying on your side, facing away from him, while johnathan lies on his back. he's praying you can't hear the loud pounding of his heart.

you can't. you're too occupied being anxious about whether he notices you're practically vibrating out of sheer nervousness.

▸ eventually, you feel his gaze on the back of you head and decide to break the silence.

"...you uh... comfortable?" you mutter over to him, not turning around.

he nods, thoughtless, forgetting you aren't exactly facing him. "you?"

you're unsure of what to say. the answer is a loud, honest, and resounding "no," and not because of him– not really– but because man, this would be a lot more comfortable if you weren't afraid to accidentally brush against each other's shoulders.

it would definitely prevent you from falling off the bed- which you were almost guaranteed to do in this position.

your silence is enough for him.

"you can move in closer. if you want. not- not if you don't want to, of course. just for your sake. you're practically clinging to the edge."

"yeah, no shit."

▸ as you shift closer to him– much closer than he expected, he shuts his eyes.

"okay so... goodnight."

your eyes flutter shut as well, murmuring a "goodnight" in response under your breath.

waking up is easily the worst part.

the golden rays of sun spill through the gap between the curtains and you groan, about to turn over and bury your face in the pillow.

you begin your attempt– but then freeze, realizing his arms are wrapped around you and his cheek is smushed against your shoulder.

he probably isn't the only one who moved in his sleep, considering you're comfortably nestled against his side.

this snaps you almost wide awake, unsure of what to do as you lay as still as possible, trying not to wake him up.

part of you wants to save him the embarrassment and just gently nudge him off of you and wake up later to pretend like nothing happened– but he stirs in his sleep as you make an attempt to gently move his arm. you feel your jaw tense– but as he settles back into full unconsciousness, you let out a small breath of relief.

silently, you held a hope that maybe he'd move on his own if given enough time.

...

any minute now.

... ...

any minute now.

oop– he shifted!! and...

okay, still no.

... ... ... this is getting tedious. you're heart is racing like you're watching a horror movie, waiting for a jumpscare to occur.

instead, he nuzzles his cheek into your shoulder.

great.

▸ you settle on accepting your fate, attempting to fall back asleep. then, when he wakes up– he'll deal with the embarrassment of the whole thing himself! you'll just move on like this whole thing never even happened, and things will be fine.

yeah. right.

▸ you do in fact, manage to fall asleep again.

you don't... wake up in time after that. in fact, it's well past the time you're supposed to wake up when you're nudged from your peaceful state.

"helloo?... hey," johnathan says your name, in a way where you can tell he's trying to be sweet in order not to invoke any morning wrath, "time to get up."

he shakes your shoulder gently. you groan, suppressing the urge to toss the pillow you're resting on in his face.

except you open your eyes and realize you are in fact– surprise, surprise– not sleeping on a pillow. your head had been rested on his arm. when this happened, you don't know.

"please? i–" johnathan pauses, moving his fingers as if to check if they were still working "...wow, that– that is numb. i actually can't feel my arm anymore."

you immediately shoot up, sitting upright in the bed, mortified.

"i'm so sorry." you sputter, your face getting hotter by the minute. he shakes his head, trying to find words to say.

"no, no, no! you looked comfortable, i didn't want to wake you up, i should be sorry."

none of you are discussing the fact that you two were just cuddling. might as well be kissing the homies gn smh /j

you try not to think about it as he buys you breakfast as an indirect apology for the little incident. part of you thinks it's great to get possibly the most comfortable sleep in your life and then wake up to a free breakfast.

the more rational part of you is completely and utterly humiliated.

but a teeny tiny voice in your brain says maybe you wouldn't have minded if it happened again,,, even without the free breakfast part

as for johnathan? he's secretly hoping there won't ever be enough beds for the two of you ever again.

– reblogs always appreciated!

#im sorry i love making things awkward for everyone #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #the spot #the spot headcanons #the spot x y/n #the spot x reader #johnathan ohnn headcanons #johnathan ohnn x reader #johnathan ohnn #johnathon ohnn #johnathon ohnn x reader #johnathon ohnn headcanons #one bed trope #Many Tags #my bad y'all

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peaktora · 5 months

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 ˚◞♡ ⃗ suguru getou

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ for the past month, geto has been noticing a stranger (you) struggling with skating, and it's been getting on his nerves. how can someone be so bad at it? to solve his irritation, he decides to teach you how to skate…or atleast, he tries to.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊2.0k words. lordddd there’s a lot of dialogue (i swear more than half of this is talking). tbh it’s basically one sided irritation for reader + skater!suguru. no pronouns used or specified gender. there’s no specified au or mention of jujutsu high, so it can be the universe of anything you want it to be. intended lowercase.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊did something new and wrote for getou !! i did a little research before writing this so i don’t think he’s ooc … but, in any case, this is more of a practice piece than anything else, and i just wanted to get something out there before i got caught up with studying for exams

"there’s no way," getou thinks to himself.

you had this determined look on your face, but your balance was all over the place. you kept wobbling and stumbling, trying to find your footing. each time you pushed off, you would lose control and end up falling. but you know what? you never gave up. even though you kept failing, you kept getting back up and trying again.

that right there? was the fucking problem.

it's really getting to him. gnawing on his bones from within and burrowing beneath his skin.

how many times will he have to see you here? hell, you’ve been practicing for a whole month now, with no progress from the first time you hopped on your board.

and it's not like he has a problem with beginners doing this, it's just you. you're so stubborn when it comes to asking for help, he can tell just by watching you. watching how you closely observe the more advanced skaters, and when they try to give you tips, you just give a tight-lipped smile and don't apply them. it frustrates him. at this point? just quit.

another fall on your butt is observed from getou’s seat on the bench, and that's when he chooses to get up and go home.

once he gets to the sidewalk, he drops his board and hops on. just as he was about to start skating, he caught a faint mutter from you. it was a curse, something like "damnit," followed by a kick of a rock. he probably wasn't supposed to notice—or even think about it, normally, he wouldn't give you a second glance. but maybe, he figures, you won't be such a bother if he gives you a hand. he can be pretty persistent when he wants to. and you know what? that could be useful with you.

he stands in the middle of the sidewalk, torn between going home and going to your aid. but it's pointless, really. he's on his way back to the park before he realizes it. as he comes to a stop in front of you, the sound of his wheels softens and you scoot back.

he’s got all those insults and jokes about you swirling in his mind, but what actually comes out of his mouth is, “you need some assistance here?”

you raise your hand and create a makeshift visor, blocking the glare of the sun. "what?" you ask, squinting at him.

“you want lessons? i can help—“ he points at your board. “free of charge.”

the following seconds are silent. you give him one more good look before replying, "i see you around here a lot."

this was not, by any means, meant to steer into small talk. getou fights the urge to sigh and instead, he smiles, slipping his hand into his pocket. "what can i say? this place brings me peace."

"you’re really good.”

“hm?”

“you’re really good at what you do. y’know…skating.”

huh, and he had the nerve to think he knew more about you. "it's all about how you practice,” he says.

you bring your knees up to your chest, letting your hands hang from them. "how do i practice if i always feel like i'm gonna slide off the board?"

“use tips.”

“from you?”

getou doesn't say anything, simply shrugging in response. you snort and shake your head, "now you're starting to sound like one of those salesmen.”

you interrupt him before he can speak. “for the—uh—" you stand up and grab your board. "lessons you mentioned? i think i'm doing okay by myself, but thanks for the offer." you pat his shoulder and walk away.

getou raises his hands in the air and walks over to the bench. "apologies," he mumbles. he slides his skateboard under the bench and sits down. sighing, he drapes his arm around the back of the bench, and taps his fingers against the metal. “wanna show me what you got?”

you stop walking, raising a brow at him. "you’re saying that as if i owe you something.”

"i never said you owed me anything,” he pauses, looking for the right words to say. “think of it as showing your skills."

“why am i showing my skills’ to a stranger?”

he scratches the back of his head. “really, you’re always skating infront of people you don’t know. i mean, this is a public space.”

"you said to show you what i got. which means skating specifically for you. not anyone else."

"you’re right, i did say that.”

"exactly," you state, as getou hums. it's quiet for a while, and he’s just starting to get up to go home when you interrupt the silence.

“i thought when you owe someone something it had to be mutually—uh—what’s that word?”

he sighs and blinks slowly in your direction, "agreed?"

"bingo!" you exclaim, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. "so i can't be in debt of anything because we haven't even agreed on the terms of the deal—i mean, we just met."

why didn’t he just go home? "this conversation is going in circles," getou groans, throwing his head back. he knew he had patience, but if this conversation went on, he'd need a lot more.

you stuff your open hand into your jeans pocket. “you’re the one who’s being weird.”

"you’re exaggerating the entire situation. i just wanted to help you out.”

"does it look like i need your help that bad?"

"honestly?" he asks, and you answer with a nod. "well…i can’t tell unless you show me somethin’.”

you roll your eyes, and he takes that as a good sign. you'll come around, he thinks, returning his gaze to the area around him.

he looks at nature's colors, from the lush green trees to the endless blue sky. his gaze darts from one sight to the next, and he can’t help but think that all of it is beautiful.

after a moment, he looks over in your direction and sees you walking towards a capsule. he knew you’d come around. you take a deep breath before positioning your skateboard at the edge. it’s not a big drop, in fact, it’s the smallest drop someone would be able to do here. but why you choose to show off your skills like this? when you’re a beginner? getou has no clue, yet he leans forward in his seat. your foot lightly presses against the nose of the board, making it rise and fall repeatedly.

just when he thinks you're about to drop in, you turn towards him and blurt out, "haven’t you seen me skate here before?”

getou wants to say "i can’t help but notice you," but he doesn't. patience, he says to himself.

but really, he’s ran out of that.

he leans slumps in his seat. “look, are you gonna do it or not? i can always leave. i'd be more than happy to. i have many things that need to get done today. so, what's it gonna be, rookie?"

“rookie?” you scoff. “please, i’m a little more advanced than that.”

“yeah? well i wouldn’t know, because ’m not seeing you skate.”

"you’re very excited about this.”

“on a time limit,” he says, tilting his head. “so hurry it up.”

“it’ll be worth the wait. watch, you’ll be speechless."

“i’m assuming for all the wrong reasons?”

you frown, “you know, you seem to be great at everything except knowing when to shut up.”

funny, most people would think of him to be an introvert. a person who’s more of a listener than anything else.

getou smirks, and taps his imaginary watch, "time is ticking.”

you glance at him once more over your shoulder, before murmuring a dismissive "whatever." getou watches intently as you reposition your board on the edge of the capsule. once again, you place your foot on the nose.

just as you drop in, he spots the mistake. he sees it in an instant, how your front foot gets way too close to the bolts. and that's when it happens—you start to back out halfway through the drop, losing your balance. instead of that graceful, picture-perfect dive you had in mind, it all goes awry. you go the remaining distance on your back, and geto can't imagine how much it hurt when the concrete hit the back of your head.

"are you okay?" getou yells, sitting up in his seat.

you stay silent, and if geto hadn't pushed you to feel the need to prove a point, he would’ve taken the idea of leaving you here more seriously than he is right now. he runs to the edge of where you dropped in, and looks down at you. you’re sprawled out on the ground, hands covering your face.

the first thought that came to mind was to slide down the drop, and so, he does.

immediately, he rushes over to you, crouching down at your side. "hey," he says, but it comes out much more breathless than he had hoped. he tries to pry your arms apart, but you firmly keep them closed.

"c’mon," he asks once more, and there's a noticeable softness in his voice this time. "just give me a chance to help you get back up and look if you need some bandages or somethin’.”

you stay put, and geto debates whether or not to touch you again. it’s only when you mumble, "were you speechless?" that he finally places his hand on your arm, gently rubbing up and down. his touch brings a comforting sensation, soothing and reassuring. he can tell by the way your body responds to his touch, your arms dropping limp.

the corner of your face appears, revealing a scrape above your brow. getou takes note, patting your arm before standing up and reaching out a hand. you raise your head, sigh, and grab it, allowing him to pull you up.

“it’s partially your fault you know,” you say, watching as getou grabs your board.

“how so?”

“peer pressure.”

"i think it was because of your footing." he replies, lowering your board. he places his feet on it, his front one near the bolts. "this is how your foot was when you dived in."

he repositions himself, lowering his front foot. "but this is how you're supposed to do it."

he looks at you, who’s looking at his feet before meeting his gaze.

"more tips come when you agree you need me to give you lessons," he says as he flips your board into his hand, eyes never leaving yours.

he smiles as you roll your eyes. "what? you couldn't possibly expect me to help you for free."

"thirty minutes ago, you said the lessons were, and i quote, 'free of charge'."

"that was before i realized how badly you need help. it could take me ages t—“

"well," you start, and geto raises a brow at your tone. "i think that they should be for free. i mean, you are in debt to me."

"is that so?" he replies, his response more of a challenge than a question.

"uh-huh, and there's a scrape on my head to prove it," you say as you point to it.

getou snorts, “you’ll be just fine.”

"once again, there's actual skin, missing from my forehead."

“and i did that…how?”

“like i said, peer pressure.”

"whatever you say," getou says as he heads back to the sidewalk. “c’mon rookie, let’s go get you a bandaid.”

"alright, but the lessons are just the start of your deb—"

"woahh," he interrupts, looking back at you. "there's a list?"

"of course. another thing on the list is that you buy me lunch."

he looks you over before replying, “whatever you want?”

“whatever i want.”

getou nods and licks his lips, "you’re gonna have to text me your list."

you smile, “you’re gonna have to give me your number.”

he points at you, "it'll only be used for scheduling lessons and discussing my debt."

you salute him, "yes sir," and he shakes his head.

"i'll have to substitute your ‘rookie’ name for solider," getou mentions as he continues his way towards the sidewalk.

you shrug, "i’d give you a nickname but i don't even know your actual name."

he fights the urge to smile, the corners of his mouth twitching. "getou."

"is that your first or last name?"

"well we aren't on a first name basis, now are we?" he says, finally letting his lips fall and twist there way into a grin.

#(っˆ ³(ˊ ᵕ ˋก ) ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ࿐ྂ #if u saw me post this earlier no u didnt #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru #geto x you #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen fluff #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons #jujustu kaisen x you #jujustu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk geto #getou suguru smut

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