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#i find your very existence at best annoying
random-posts680 · 1 day
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“•Don’t come looking for me •”
Feyd-Rautha x reader
A/n: this is a Drabble I’ve been working on for the past week and I will most likely make a part two!!
Synopsis: You use your job to hide on different planets from a family feud. While living on Giedi prime you catch the attention of the Na-Barron himself and create very close ties with him. The time you have on the planet though is unfortunately short lived, you flee, leaving behind the man you’d, unknowingly made fall in love with you, Feyd-rautha
Other mentions: soft!Feyd, Feyd is obsessed with reader, reader is oblivious, this turned out a bit angsty but part two will tie it up.
Warning: mentions of blood, mentions of death, blade to readers throat, blade mentioned, Feyd is a whole warning in himself.
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Everyone knew how cruel and sadistic the Baron harkonnens nephew was.
Everyone knew just what he was capable of.
Anyone who’d ever talked to him without being murdered by his own hands would tell you he was truly terrifying and psychotic, a being who is completely incapable of any feelings such as love, vulnerability, gentleness….
Everyone knew that.
Everyone, but you.
You and feyd-Ruathas entire friendship was rooted from a mishap. You were someone from a far away planet who had come to study the ways of the harkonnens on Giedi Prime, at least that’s the job profile you displayed to them.
The day you arrived there, not a single harkonnen payed you much attention and you weren’t bothered by that, going about your business daily, studying the planet, and occasionally watching the brutal battles in the arena.
Not a soul on Giedi Prime had any idea who you were and what your actual reason was for exploring their planet, and you intended to keep it that way. Keeping your existence to a low and never acting out. Your appearance alone already stood out enough among the harkonnens. The last thing you needed was word getting out of your inhabitants on Giedi prime.
Life on the black and white planet wasn’t as bad as many people picked it out to be. You stuck to your “job” and lived peacefully in your guest coordinates. You ate well, slept well, and trained just fine on your own. Until the day your tranquility was disturbed.
That day you and him crossed paths was by far the most chaotic day you’d had on the planet. You had your things huddled in your arms, your com was ringing with a call from your research centre, your mind was thinking of the quickest way back to the guest chambers, yet your feet were taking you elsewhere.
After realizing you were completely lost, you took a bit to calm down and found the nearest bench along the walls of the stronghold and answered the com to update your work place of your progress on Giedi Prime.
Once the call was over, you grabbed your things, and once again realized you had no idea where the hell you were. You let out a sigh as you turned on your heels only to be met with a blade thrust up against your jugular.
Your feet instantly halted.
“Where are you wondering to?” The person holding the blade rasped out. ‘Shit’ Despite your initial panic, you just simply wanted to get back to your guest room, the day had already been stressful enough and you weren’t the type to be afraid of some sick harkonnen who wanted a rise out of a foreigner. ‘First few weeks on this damn planet and I’m about to get slaughtered for walking in the wrong area.’
You knew the harokenns were a driven race but this was just pretentious.
“I’m trying to find the guest chambers, this place is like a maze, I got lost along the way.” You drawled out, keeping the annoyed tone down a notch, doing your best to not anger the male with the blade.
Seconds went by before he withdrew the knife. As soon as he did you whipped around to face the offender and your heart hammered when you came face to face with the Na-Baron himself.
What you didn’t know is that when your eyes met, Feyd-rauthas heart started to hammer too.
The harkonnen paced around you a few times looking you up and down as you stood still, a skeptical look displayed on your face, yet an intrigued expression on his. ‘What the hell is he doing?’ Your train of thought was stopped when he came closer to you, his face neared yours, his breath tickled your nose and his lips twitched ever so slightly when he was just inches away.
Moments passed but with each one you felt your facade slipping away. You nervously drew your lips into a line as he made eye contact with you once again. His deep blue eyes held something that you couldn’t read. Your act was about to crumble before him.
A few more seconds passed and it was as if your unspoken prayers had been answered when he backed up and simply walked the other way down the hall. You watched with a perplexed look during his exit.
Once he was out of your line of sight you blinked away the look and shook off the interaction. ‘What the actual fuck just happened’ you were completely baffled. He just let you go, no further questions, didn’t give you any directions, and he had gotten so close?!?
You stood for a bit, conflicted. As for the Harkonnen himself, he was feeling waves of ambivalence.
He didn’t know if it was the beauty you possessed or the way your eyes seemed to sparkle with curiosity once you realized who he was, but from that moment on Feyd-Ruatha was infatuated with you.
The very next day he had come to find you. He’d looked into your cause and he was determined to be the one to show you the culture of the harkonnens.
At first, you weren’t amused with his persistence and it was a wonder to many how he didn’t just force you into letting him be around you. He was always finding ways to bother you after his duties and training. Being with you exhilarated him, the surge of emotions added a new type of pleasure to his days. He wasn’t going to give up an opportunity like this. And he definitely wasn’t going to let any other harkonnen be the one in his future spot next to you.
When you finally realized you weren’t getting rid of him you decided to accept it. You let him tag along on your explorations, let him teach you things about the planet, even going as far as him introducing you to his uncle and brother. (Which ended in Chaos and you two swore never again). Feyd had started to grow on you and you got used to his presence, you even started to enjoy it. It was nice having a friend on the planet, even one who was a blood thirsty murderer, but nonetheless, Feyd was never anything other than respectful and his interesting version of kind to you.
Each day was something new with you, while he was teaching you, you were also teaching him. You and him trained together, ate togther, and talked about almost anything and everything. The topics went from simple things to things that were more intimate and personal. You considered telling him the true reasons why you sprung from planet to planet “exploring,” but you decided it wasn’t wise considering that he may not understand or even believe you. Now, while you recall these memories you regret never telling him that you were in fact running from something.
Surprisingly, Feyd had actually opened up a few times and shared some of his twisted beliefs with you. Even if they were insane you did your best to understand him and point him in directions that would cause a lot less blood shed. To your surprise, he took some of your advice.
He hated how weak you could make him but at the same time he couldn’t get enough of you. He craved you deeply. Everyday he spent with you only made his need for you stronger. The smiles you’d give him, the gentleness of your hands when you would dress his wounds after an arena fight (If he ever had any injuries from the arena that is), the softness of your voice when you would teach him things from your home planet.
It was truly intoxicating to him.
Feyd was incredibly protective of you too. Not letting many get too close to you and always making sure you were unharmed by other harkonenns. Feyd himself had no desire to ever hurt you either, he actually despised the thought of hurting you altogether. It was one of the reasons he didn’t want to force your hand, no matter how badly he wanted his fantasies of you to come true, he knew he wouldn’t take joy in forcing them upon you.
It was safe to say you had worked miracles on him. You were the only being in the entire universe who could bring this side out of him.
Feyd-rautha oved you.
So the day you just disappeared out of no where was a day nobody enjoyed. When he’d realized your absence and was informed that no harkonnen on the face of Giedie prime had any idea where you had gone, he completely lost it. He killed everyone in the room with him in that moment.
He dropped as many bodies as he possibly could that day. Acting as though they were to blame for you disappearance.
He tried to track you, find a trail of where you may have gone, anything to bring you back to him. He looked for hours, not wanting to believe that the trail to your current location was completely cold. It was as if you’d vanished into thin air.
All of your belongings were left in your guest room. Nothing of yours was missing. The only thing that had gone missing the same day you did was…his blade.
The harkonnen thought the worst when he uncovered this detail. He thought of you fighting against some kind of enemy with his blade in hand, defending yourself all alone, while he had no way of protecting you. Feyd had never felt heartache but when he thought of you alone and scared, fighting for your life, it surged through his chest and even put warm, piercing lumps in his throat at times.
There was only one other piece of evidence, but it proved you were alive. A week after finding that his blade was missing he went to your room to search it once again. This time he found a note taped in one of your analysis journals. ‘I’m sorry, don’t come looking for me’ it’s writing was rushed and sloppy.
The harkonnen stared at it before the weight of the situation settled onto him. You had left, you had run away from him. But this also meant you were alive.
Feyds murderous tendencies only grew from then on. He killed for no reason now. Slaughtering anyone if they did something out of his comfort. His anger being taken out on servants, and the drugged slaves in the arena.
Feyd seemed to hate everything other than killing. But the one thing that drove him mad was the fact he couldn’t bring himself to hate you.
Each night he’d have dreams of you. Dreams of your hair flowing in the geidi prime wind. Your smile glowing as he shows you yet another trick of his. Your soft voice pulling him into a deep sleep. At the end of the day, this was the closest he could be to you. Sleep was his escape and Feyd-ruatha was desperate. He wasn’t ashamed to be lulled to sleep by the thought of you every night. His finger tips wrapping around the sheets when his dreams consisted of times with you.
Feyd and you and never been closer than mere friends but you also had no idea that you were everything to him.
Now, as you float through space months after you had made your escape, you replay those memories in your head. And you make a promise to yourself. You won’t get close with anybody again until you are done running.
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A/n: Guys part two is coming
,I promise, I know this is ended sadly 😭
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pinkthrone445 · 2 days
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-Let it burn to the ground- Part 3
Part 1 Part 2
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Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Gender:fluf, soft, love
Warnings:Mention about past trauma, fires, boring but useful explanation of CPR
Summary:Melissa lets the fire of love consume her when she meets the new chief of the fire station.
After the amazing night of sex, you both have to deal with the consequences.
Mel ate breakfast in silence, glancing from time to time at her cell phone to see if you responded to her good morning message, but no notification came, you didn't even had opened her message, what made the redhead sigh sad
-"Soooo..."-Her housemate couldn't stand the silence any longer and started talking-"Last night was that good or did you scream like a wild animal on purpose to boost the chief's ego and interrupt my beauty sleep?"- Jacob asked as he ate his cereal, staring at her
-"My body hurts in parts that I didn't even knew existed, so yeah, she was that good" - The redhead replied without much emotion in her voice
-"So why do you look so sad?" - He asked, confused, and Mel sighed again
-"Because she left without saying goodbye... And now she doesn't even read my messages..."- She murmured sadly. Mel wasn't a self-doubting person, she was usually very confident in who she was and how she looked. But she couldn't help but wonder what had made you leave just like that, maybe you hadn't liked her body, she usually turned off the lights, but last night she was so desperate that she completely forgot about it. Or maybe you didn't like that the night focused only on her pleasure and not on you too... Maybe you'd reconsidered that she'd been with one of your subordinates in that same bed and you didn't like it...
-"Maybe she had an emergency at work and had to run away, she's the chief after all, her day off only lasted until 12 o'clock yesterday, if she was called after that time for an emergency, she would have had to run to help..."-Her friend commented and Mel nodded thinking about that possibility, it was something that could have definitely happened, which calmed her down a bit.
But two more days passed without you giving any signs, your son continued to go to school, but in none of those days that had passed had you gone to take him to school or pick him up. She even saw that your son was picked up by one of your sisters who looked a lot like you and the redhead thought about going to talk to her to find out something about you, but she didn't want to look so desperate so she didn't do it.
On the other hand, Jacob was upset to see his housemate so sad, and he wasn't a person who sat idly by when he saw one of his friends in pain, so he decided to do what the redhead would never do, visit you at the station to see what was going on and get answers.
When he arrived at the station he was surprised to see all the firetrucks outside being washed and cleaned so thoroughly he could see his reflection in the red metallic paint
-"Excuse me, hi" - Jacob spoke up to get the attention of the firefighters who were cleaning-"Does anyone know where I can find the station chief?"-He asked with his best smile
-"She is in her office, but I wouldn't recommend you to see her, lately she has been more bitch than usual..."-One of the annoyed firefighters commented-"Be careful, maybe you'll go see her and she'll get you cleaning up too" - He joked making the others laugh and Jacob rolled his eyes going to the entrence desk asking to see you.
You were reading some reports with a very deep frown when Jacob entered your office
-"Excuse me chief..."-Jacob spoke in a soft tone, your angry face did caused him a little fear
-"I told them that nobody could interrupt..."- You began to speak annoyantly, but relaxed your gaze at the sight of the scrawny young man at your door-"Hello Jacob, what are you doing here?" - You consulted and he looked at you confused
-"You know my name? Wow..."-The young man was proud of that for some reason
-"Yes, you are the boyfriend of one of my younger firefighters, besides Melissa told me some really funny anecdotes about you... Can I help you with something? I'm a little bit busy" - You asked seriously looking at your paperwork again
-"He is not, we are not... Did he said something to you?... Nevermind, that's not why I'm here for, I'm here for Melissa..."-Jacob spoke, smiling a little as he saw your interest return to him at the slightest mention of the redhead, you put your papers aside and looked at it with complete attention
-"What happened to Melissa? It she ok?" - Your voice sounded really worried
-"She is not, she is sad because you didn't call her again and you run away in the middle of the night after interrupting my beauty sleep with those screams... Why haven't you call her again?" - He asked with a frown, approaching you more confidently
-"Because I can't..."-You whispered without looking at him
-"WHY!?" - He yelled at you slamming your desk, but his anger and confidence quickly disappeared when you stood up from your desk with a frown and crossing arms facing him, sudently he felt small and had to take a few steps back-"Why ma'am? If you care to tell me, please" - He asked again but softer this time
-"Because I can't do casual, no with her at least... Melissa wants casual sex, no a relationship right now, and I can't do it... Have you seen her? We had this amazing connection, amazing chats, amazing dancing, funny moments and amazing sex and she is amazing... Do you know how often that happens in a first date? Never... Even my first date with my husband was worse and I end up marring him... I can't do casual sex after that, I can't when I feel that kind of connection with her... And if I keep seeing her I won't be able to say no everytime she asks me to come, and that would only destroy me more because I will keep my hopes up even if I know it's a dead end... I got scared of getting hurt okey?"-You sighed a little, embarrassed to admit that out loud while almost a complete stranger listened to you. Jacob, on the other hand, didn't know what excuse for your behavior he was waiting for, but it certainly wasn't that.
-"I... Didn't knew, sorry... But at least you own her an explanation, you can't vanish like that, she is sad and it scares me when she is sad... Please talk to her" - His friend whispered and you sighed
-"I'll talk to her... Later, I need to work right now..."-You whispered going back to your desk and he nodded opening the door
-"Thank you..."-He answered
-"By the way cupid, make a move on your friend, he will say yes, he is always checking his phone at work for your messages, God knows how many times I gave him a warning for being with that phone talking to you at work..."-You whispered without looking at him, but you could feel the way he smiled at your comment when he closed the door.
Hours later, you went to pick up your son from school, arriving a little bit earlier, trying to see Mel and talk a little before your son finished his classes.
After introducing yourself at the entrance, you made your way to Melissa's classroom to find it empty, confused you walked down the hallway until you heard her familiar tone of voice
-"Fudge! How is possible that he keeps winning?!" - The redhead spoke annoyed, looking at her phone while sitting in the teacher's room. You approached carefully and knocked on the door gently to get her attention, when her gaze fell on your face she raised her eyebrows in surprise, but quickly her face changed to seriousness and she looked back at her phone
-"Hi Melissa..."-You whispered but she didn't even look at you, you sighed and moved a little closer carefully-"How are you?..."-You gave her a little smile
-"Fine"-It was all the answer she gave you
-"Look... I can see you are mad at me and you are in all your right... I'm sorry for not answering your texts this few days" - You whispered and she just shrugged her shoulders
-"I don't care..."-She replied curtly again and you walked closer to her
-"I am really sorry, I didn't wanted to hurt you... I just got scared of how fast everything went and didn't find the strength to answer..."-You whispered looking at her-"Do you think I could have another chance? I know you felt our connection too, maybe it's worth another try? I promise not to disappear again" - You muttered and she looked at you over the edge of her glasses
-"I can't, I'm busy, I have a date with someone tonight" - She replied seriously and you sighed, on one hand you were afraid of the anger in her eyes and on the other hand this was exactly what you feared, she didn't want something serious and the fact that she already had another date after 3 days of being with you confirmed it even more
-"Oh, Okey, sorry for bother you"-You whispered walking to the door-"And sorry for ignoring you..."-You left the room heading to the exit to wait for your kid. For some reason the redhead's response had hurt you more than you'd like to admit, though maybe the fact that you ignored her had pushed her to that, you thought maybe you'd get another chance. Maybe you'd have to get used to mediocre dates since no other could match the connection you'd had with her in the first one.
After being lost in thought, your son ran out of school towards you with his small backpack on his back, smiling a lot when he saw that you were the one who went to pick him up
-"Mommy!" - The little one hugged you tight and you hugged him too, needing those hugs more than he knew. When he stepped back a little and saw your face, he frowned-"Why are you crying mom?"-Your son took your face with his little hands and you sighed, you didn't even realize that a tear had escaped your eye
-"It's just that I missed you so much" - You whispered and hugged him again-"Do you want to go for ice cream?" - You asked and he smiled and nodded excitedly.
Another week passed and your station had returned to Abbot to take the CPR trainer test to the teachers who had not been present the past time and again to a few who didn't do it correctly, although you did not want to go, the other firefighters had training exercises and you were one of the few who was free, so you had to attend along with Jacob's "friend", Avi.
Gregory, Melissa, Ava,Janine, Jacob and another teachers had to take it again, so there was no scape of seeing the redhead.
When you arrived, you prepared the room with the practice dummies, placing some on the floor and others on tables. When everything was ready, the teachers came in. Melissa frowned as she walked in and saw you, but you just decided to keep greeting them as if nothing happened.
As the exercises began you leat Avi lead the way and you stood on a corner in silence with a very rigid posture, you could quickly saw why Melissa had failed her previous test, she had terrible posture and her compressions were very weak, Jacob was there because he wanted, Janine was doing it again because she hadn't taken the proper time to do it last time and Ava and Gregory had to do it because they hadn't been certified because they hadn't been present the time before.
-"I want to clarify a couple of things... Since the previous instructor didn't explain everything that was needed... Before we start compressions, you need to check that you don't have anything around that could cause further harm to you or the victim, like fire around or something that could fall on you. Second, you need to check first if the person is conscious, to start CPR, you need to have 3 missing things, no breathing, no movement and no response on someone, at that point you need to ask someone to call 911 while you start the compressions, if there is no one around, you call it first and then start the compression. The person has to be on a hard and flat surface, we are going to find the center of the chest, place one hand on top of the other and interlace the fingers, pressing mostly with our palm. We bend over the victim, our elbows locked and arms straight. They have to be at least 2 inches deep and at least 100 times per minute, it's more than one per second so they have to be fast and consistent"-As you explained each step, you only looked your eyes at the doll or the others avoiding the redhead, even though you knew her gaze was fixed on you-"Every 30 compressions, keep count, give 2 breaths to the victim... If you start to get tired, it is preferable to have someone else continue the compressions for you while you rest, because if you are tired your compressions will not be as deep as they were at the beginning nor will they be very effective... Here at school they have masks to give mouth-to-mouth breathing, they cover the nose and the mouth and they are only one way air pass, it is preferable that you use them as this way we avoid contaminating ourselves with viruses, budy fluids or contagious deseases. If we don't have a breathing shield to do it and we are not sure if we should touch the other person's mouth, remember that CPR without mouth to mouth interaction is also effective and can provide the effect that we need in a safer way. Now! Pay attention, it's different for children till the age of 15 depending how big they are. You still have to control the same thing as at the beginning, check if they breathe, move or have reactions. Check that the environment is safe and call the 911. But when we start compressions, you will do it with one hand only, no both because children chest are more fragile and we can broke a bone... After 30 compressions, you breath twice on their mouth using the face shield or breathing mask and then keep with the compressions until the ambulance arrives... Any questions?"-You finished your explanation and asked as everyone shook their heads-"Okey, then, if everyone payed attention, dived yourself into couples and start your compressions, if everything goes as we instructed, you will have your certificate at the end of the class"-You commented and watched as everyone worked.
Melissa was annoyed with the lack of attention you were paying to her, but it started to bother her more when her name started coming out of your mouth non stop
-"Melissa you didn't check your surroundings" "Melissa you need do deeper compressions" "Melissa arms straight" "Melissa, faster" "Melissa use the face shield" "Melissa, Melissa, Melissa" - she was tired of hearing you complain about her all the time, even tho in reality you were checking everyone's movements.
The redhead put the doll aside and stood in front of you with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed
-"Can we talk in the next room?"-She asked and you looked at her with a frown too
-"Avi, keep checking them, I'll be back in a minute" - You commented by following the redhead to another classroom
-"What was all of that?! You were being a bitch to me!" - The redhead whispered/screamed
-"I just was correcting what was needed to be corrected, it's my job, you need to do the things right to get your certificate" - You muttered authoritatively and she scoffed
-"Admit it you were only trying to make me embarrassed! You are only mad at me because I didn't accept another date after you vanish for three days!" - The redhead tapped your shoulder trying to push you but she didn't move you an inch, on the contrary, you got closer to her coming face to face
-"I'm not mad at you for that! I'm mad at myself because I run away because it scared me how casual everything is with you!" - You replied with a frown
-"I didn't wanted casual with you! I wanted a million more dates! You think I didn't felt that connection with you?!" - Melissa commented annoyed
-"Then why you went out dating again so soon?" - This time your tone of voice was calmer and softer, but little hurt
-"I didn't had a date, I just wanted you to feel hurt like I felt..."-she confessed and you sighed
-"I hate you" - You whispered laughing softly - "I hate that that worked" - You confessed and she smiled arrogantly
-"I hate you too" - She said and tried to give you a little peck, but you grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to you kissing her deeper, grabbing her jacket with force and making her moan a little bit when you pull apart biting softly her lip- Can we have another date tomorrow?" - She whispered over your lips
-"Chris has a football game and I promise to be there" - You whispered and she signed-"But you are invited if you want... He will be happy to have more people cheering him" - You commented and she smiled
-"I will love it..."-she answered and walked away toward the door
-"The kiss doesn't mean that you don't need to be better at the test, if you don't improve I won't give you the certificate" - You confessed and she rolled her eyes
-"I hate you!" - She replied and you laughed walking behind her.
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liquidstar · 4 months
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the goddamn show came out
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etchedstars · 5 months
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hi i just wanted to drop a ss of the comments i wrote on my notion page for captured ghosts because im about to reread and i think this fic deserves all the recognition in the world it slays so hard and you should know the absolute anxiety and simultaneous joy you caused me!!!
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HI OH MY GOD ?!?!??!?!? thank you asufaudsf this is so so nice the joy THIS brought me?????????? immeasurable ty <3333
(ps theres a lot of thoughts in the tags w captured ghosts spoilers for those who may or may have not read my will byers gets haunted multichaptered fic!!)
#if youre thinking hmm i should read captured ghosts!! dont take it from me take it from tumblr user romainlettusdinnerparty :)#okokok so !!! authors thoughts#one of the biggest problems i have with media and especially in fics is when characters just have. the worlds most perfect inner dialogue#which clearly. bc they are fifteen years old. they will not be perfect they wont think coherent thoughts#human emotions are messy and indecipherable and ESP w the st characters someone who has gone thru as much as will has. hes gonna be angry !#i do my best to walk the line between good writing and realistic writing LMAO so im glad that came across :)))#ok abt joyce. this was less of a 'i think this is how joyce would be' and rlly just me being annoyed w my own mother tbh#i also wasnt a huge fan of her when i first wrote cg bc i thought she was way too paranoid over will and not caring much abt jonathan#so that is why shes Like that. im gonna be real i dont think id change it if i rewrote but i also dont think i wrote her fairly#and finally !!! im very sorry i lied about the rewrite. its not gonna happen bc i am so so swamped and i have nothing and i wrote it last y#but for the record will was supposed to be in the same sort of coma max was in and they were supposed to find each other and will#was going to promise max hed find her way out and then boom he was going to wake up there was going to be some jealousy w lucas and mike an#he makes it out alive max makes it out alive vecna doesnt fully leave etc etc. the end#anyways if youve read this far thank u and thank you for leaving this ask and this comment :))))) i havent gotten anything abt my fics in a#while tbh so knowing that like . They Still Exist and people still like them means so so much to me :')))) ok bye this was super long#overdue gets some asks#captured ghosts#happy chemical
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fairyofshampgyu · 6 months
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Super shy !
genre: smut, baker au, college au, crack
Pairing: shy loser virgin bakery worker ! soobin x college customer ! reader
Warnings: sub soobin, dom reader, clubbing, loss of virginity, riding, hand job, titty groping (can’t be a Soobin smut without him being obsessed with boobies be fr), premature ejaculation,
word count: 2.9k
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As soon as you stepped into the newly established campus bakery, walking up to the counter and observing all the pastries, contemplating for a rather long time before you end up deciding on what you’d usually order anyway, Soobin couldn’t help feeling like his world got totally turned upside down. The sight of you rendering him completely speechless and unable to even think.
Time seemingly going by so slow like in the kdramas as your shiny hair majestically blows in the non existent wind inside, smile brightening up the entire bakery. He could practically see the roses blooming around your face like in the mangas. Was this love at first sight?!
Realistically, no.
But were you incredibly attractive to him and a breath of fresh air to the moody, stressed out college students that purchase a single coffee and stay for hours completing assignments with their backs concerningly hunched over? Hell yes.
And unfortunately for Soobin, he does not do well with pretty people. At all. Not realising you had even ordered, too in awe and preoccupied with taking in all your features until he’s snapped back to reality with the clearing of your throat and he can already feel his cheeks burning up horribly fast. Oh god. He really, really hopes it’s not evident right now.
“S-sorry…What did you say?” He begins apologising profusely to you, too embarrassed to even look you in the eyes, staring off more to the side. This was definitely not his best customer service.
With a chuckle, you brush it off and state your order again, “I said could I have the strawberry swirl cheesecake please?” If Soobin could look at himself in third person, he would so be face palming right now. Or better yet, maybe he could just go up and like, punch himself straight up or something for acting like such a loser.
“Ah right... That’s ₩7500. Cash or card?”
You pay with cash and Soobin, very nervously, fumbles around to garner the right amount of change to hand you, though doing it in the most awkward way possible and his palm makes direct contact with yours as he hands the money, making him blush even more and let out a small obvious gasp at the feeling of your soft hand. Oh my god. Why did he do that?! He really hopes you didn’t find that weird.
You only let out another chuckle, thanking him before you’re leaving the bakery in an elegant manner and Soobin is left to sigh and watch your back disappear. Damn it. He’ll probably never see you again. You were so pretty and so cute, too cute even-
“You’re such a virgin.”
His thoughts about you are abruptly dissipated by his coworker and unfortunately best friend, Choi Beomgyu who gives him the stupidest, most annoying grin he would definitely like to slap off his face right now.
“Just shut up.” Soobin grimaces and rolls his eyes at beomgyu, bringing a batch of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind him and placing them into the display glass one by one.
"You’re pinker than the strawberry macarons we sell. That's saying something." Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at him with sass.
So does that mean you could see how flustered he was getting then? Oh no! Soobin clears his throat and narrows his eyes at beomgyu anyway. “Am not.”
“Are too! Anyway, all I’m saying is that interaction was painful to watch. You’re really giving pathetic, loser, virgin right now. I cant lie.” Beomgyu attempts to stifle in one of his obnoxious laughs.
Soobin is quick to snap back, "You've only ever slept with one person!"
"S-so!! At least im not a virgin!" Beomgyu’s cheeks also become the equivalent to the strawberry macarons as he scrambles to try and defend himself, brows furrowed and cheeks puffed.
“Well, the concept of a virgin is purely societal anyway. It doesn’t actually matter. It doesn’t mean anything really.” Soobin bitterly replies, continuing to work whilst his counterpart does completely nothing like most of the time. It's usually soobin that does work, remind him not to agree to beomyu's silly ideas of getting a job together ever again.
Beomgyu scoffs and snickers at this, "Whatever. You’re just saying all that to make yourself feel better because you’re a loser. LMAO"
"I’ll punch you right now."
"Then we'll both be fired~”
A poor customer still awaits at the counter to be served, standing in bewilderment and tiredness. Waiting for the two bakers to finish bickering and sighing as they don’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.
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Soobin doesn’t expect to see you again, in complete honesty, he’s almost forgotten you even exist after you never come again. But he’s in luck and more than pleasantly surprised when he hears the bell to the door go ding!, indicating a customer had walked in. He looks up from the cake he was decorating and in comes you looking cuter than the first time he saw you. He tries not to mess up the cake and he stands up straight almost instantly when he sees you, waiting for you to order and trying to remain calm.
You laugh and point at his cute nose when you come up to the counter. “You have like, icing all on your nose.”
“O-oh. I do?” He points at himself and you nod in reply. He feels himself going redder by the minute. He must look so stupid right now! And he urgently brings his sleeve up and tries to wipe the icing off his nose to not make himself look an even more of a complete fool in front of you .
“Ah wait no. Let me do it!” You lean over the counter as you see him struggling and wipe it off the top of his cute bunny like nose instead for him.
And that was the end of soobin. The end.
-
You become a regular at the bakery and soobin becomes a regular of embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself each time he sees you. He really doesn’t think he can top the previous comedic disaster that occurs when you enter, yet he always proves himself wrong, the awkwardness reaching new heights each time. From dropping trays of pastries, spilling drinks, nearly slipping in front of you, giving you a ₩50000 note when it was only ₩5000 change, the list goes on and on. He’s actually surprised he hasn’t lost his job yet.
And there’s also always a disappointed beomgyu shaking his head afterwards ready to make fun of him when Soobin promises to make a move but freezes every time you’re in sight, too much of a pussy.
“I’m calling an intervention.” Beomgyu declares and sighs after the nth time of soobin making absolutely no moves on you whatsoever, “Soobin, my man, my bro, you desperately need to get banged. It’s painful seeing the way you act. Your little crush is not gonna like you with the way you act. That’s it. We’re going clubbing tonight after this shift. No buts.”
“But-”
“I said no buts!”
“You know I hate clubbing.”
“You’ve never even been with me despite my constant pleads.” Beomgyu shakes his head and makes a dramatic pained face at his way.
“So? I know I’ll hate it.”
“You’re such a hater bro.”
“Yes I am. And I take pride in it. I’m a hater of everything.”
Beomgyu just sighs. He was utterly hopeless.
Unfortunately, there was no way Soobin could get out of this because beomgyu was having absolutely none of his protests and excuses and that’s how he ends up finding himself at the club anyway after his shift, sitting off to the side as he watches beomgyu disappear somewhere into the crowd. Soobin sighs as he downs his jack and coke. This was going to be a long fucking night.
-
In the dimly lit club, soobin’s discomfort was palpable, like a fish out of water and you noticed instantly upon arrival. It’s that cute tall baker boy who always serves you! You excitedly make your way and sit next to him, he looked a little lonely. “Hey! You work at that bakery on campus. I go there!”
Soobin’s eyes nearly fall out of his sockets at the sight of you sitting next to him and he nearly chokes on his drink as he splutters on his straw and nods. Act calm, act calm, act calm, act calm. Act cool and mysterious.
It’s you! You’re speaking to him?!
“So…these things not really your scene, huh?”
“Gee. How did you ever notice?” Soobin attempts to smile and joke with dry humour but it executes a little more awkward and nervous than how he would have liked.
You also try to carry on the conversation since this is the first time you’ve got to ever actually talk to the cute boy before. “I’m very intuitive. I can just sense things like that.”
He laughs at that too, feeling a bit more comfortable around you now. “No but yeah, I’d much rather be at home right now sleeping. Can’t say I’m much of an advocate for getting stupidly drunk with sweaty people you don’t even know with terrible rave music and flashing lights that should have an epilepsy warning”
“I get it.” You chuckle at how passionate he gets talking about how much he hates clubbing, frown on his cute face. “So why are you here then?”
“Friend wanted me to. Said I needed to finally get laid or whatever.” Soobin rolls his eyes and sips on his drink again, motioning his head to the direction of beomgyu on the dance floor, clearly drunk off his ass now.
“Oh, you’re a Virgin?”
Soobin’s ears go red when he realises what he said to you. “O-oh um y-yeah I guess…”
“Are you waiting for like marriage or the right person or something?” You question, genuinely surprised. He was tall and very attractive and it was rare for college boys to not hook up every single night these days.
“God no. Just never happened. I don’t really care for things like that. It’s probably overhyped anyway and doesn’t even feel that good. Like porn is highly unrealistic anyway.”
“You think so?” You chuckle at him and he nods, continuing to cutely sip on his drink with his straw. “Well maybe you should to try it out first and see for yourself.” Your words start to become a little flirty as you grow more confident talking with him and also because of the alcohol making you slightly tipsy now. “Sorry, but do you want to get out of here?”
“Yes please.” Soobin’s eyes widen even more at your suggestion and he’s more than happy to get out of here with you especially.
“Umm your friend is a bit….out of it right now.” You watch beomgyu drunk from afar, whipping his long hair back and forth claiming to everyone around he’ll be able to do it fast enough to lift off his feet and fly like a helicopter.
“He’ll be…he’ll be fine I’m sure”
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Soobin has no idea what good stuff he must have done in his past life to get to this moment right now, in your room, making out with you, in your bed. Did he mention making out? With you?! The customer he’s been crushing on for months?! Holy, he might hyperventilate right now. It all feels like a dream. Is this real right now?
You cup his cheek and move into his lap, continuing to move your lips against his and soobin’s ears and face are all flushed, breathing loud of enough for you to hear and he looks all nervous and a little shaky.
You stop kissing him but he chases after your lips still and you stroke his cheek, “Are you okay Soobin?”
He’s only able to nod, lips parted and eyes all glazed over. He’s so out of it just from making out with you it’s crazy. But so cute too.
“C-can you…can we…just want…”
“What do you want, baby?” You chuckle and stroke his cheek as he manages to utter some words. The petname only makes his head go even more haywire.
“W-want you…”
“What do you want me to do?” You giggle and coo at him.
He shyly shows you the boner he’s had this entire time. You can’t believe he got a boner just from some kissing. “Can you-will you touch me…please? Need it…” He pleads at you nervously, so red in the face.
“Are you sure?”
He nods his head exceptionally fast and you begin to unbuckle his jeans as he watches you take his flushed and hard dick out, breathing only becoming heavier. Damn, you didn’t think he’d be that big.
You take him into your hands and his mouth his already agape, gasping when you slowly start to stroke him.
You pump his big cock at a steady pace so as not to overwhelm him too much, though twisting and thumbing at the tip occasionally that has him drooling at the corner of his mouth and beads of precum dribbling out heavily from his cock. It’s endearing how far gone he is just at you stroking his dick slow, shy whimpers and other noises eliciting from his mouth.
You unbutton you shirt with your other hand as you continue to pump him and his eyes go crazed at the sight of your tits, you guiding his own big inexperienced hands to grope at them and he does, slumping his head into your neck and shoulder moaning into it and still groping and squeezing at your tits.
With a sudden yelp you feel Soobin’s cum spurt up and leak into your hands, his eyes rolling back as he whimpers continuously from his premature orgasm.
He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder yet, too embarrassed to face you but he eventually does, eyes still half lidded, trying to catch his breath and he’s hard again. “W-will you fuck me? Please please please. Wanna feel it, wanna feel you, please?” He practically begs, still panting out.
“Are you really sure, Soobin? With me?”
“Yes please! Only want you.”
You study his face for any hesitancy but it’s clear he’s so set on wanting you to fuck him. So you wrap your hands around both his wrists and bring him to lay down on your pillows instead, you still straddling his lap.
When you’ve undressed your lower half, you bring his dick and slide it over your entrance a few times, he moans out loud, hands coming up shyly to cover his face and then you sink down incredibly slowly on his massive length . Soobin’s jaw drops and breath hitches at the feeling of his dick finally in your warm pussy, a strangled moan ripping out of him. He could seriously cum just from being in you right now, but he tries so hard not to or you’ll be disappointed and he doesn’t want to see you disappointed or embarrass himself even more.
“You good, baby?”
“M’ f-fine. Just-Just need a minute.” Soobin shakes out.
You take his hands away from his face and lean down to softly kiss him instead, trying to calm him down and he effuses into your mouth, kissing back passionately with his eyes closed.
“I’m ready now…” He pulls away after a while and looks you in the eyes.
So you start to slowly move, riding him, going up and down on his virgin dick. Soobin’s mouth hangs open in endless moans and gasps and whimpers, face buried into your pillow to the side and his hair all messy now. Whole body flushed and shaking underneath you.
“Better than you thought, baby?” You grunt out, bouncing on top of his cock.
“So much better. O-oh my god, f-fuck…ah!” So maybe sex wasn’t overhyped after all. Because goddamn, you feel so fucking good. Maybe it was just you. But Soobin truly feels like he’s gliding on fluffy clouds right now. All the times he’s touched himself not even coming close to how he feels right now stuffed in your pussy as you fuck him, watching mesmerised as your tits bounce with each movement. He could die here right now in full contentment. Oh how he was so wrong.
It’s not long at all before Soobin can’t hold it anymore. His hips bucking up and breath hitching as a loud strangled mewl tumbles out of his mouth and you feel hot cum fill you up suddenly that makes you still your movements on him. He lets out a long slurred groan and then goes limp beneath you, eyes closing shut and open as he fades from conscious to not every now and then. Is he really that fucked out?
After a while, he finally somewhat recovers and comes back to you from his high, still panting out and chest rising up and down. He looks up at you with a small shy smile on his lips, arm thrown over his forehead.
“You know I literally only go to the bakery because of how cute and silly you are and how you always make a mess of yourself whenever I walk in” You chuckle and admit, drawing shapes into his chest.
“W-wait you knew I liked you?” Soobin asks, shocked and feeling embarrassed again.
You laugh, “Come on, you made it rather obvious.”
Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)
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A/n: having serious writers block rn but forced myself to write this in practically one sitting (it was so painful) and has not been proof read at all so if it makes no sense I apologise 😭
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simpjaes · 3 months
Text
FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)
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Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.
៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 
៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader
៸៸៸WC: 9.3k
៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed
៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)
smut tags under cut::​​​
SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?
In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.
 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 
Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?
Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.
23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 
Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.
At least that she’s aware of.
She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.
For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 
What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.
 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 
Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.
“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”
You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.
“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 
“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.
The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.
“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”
“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”
You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.
“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 
Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 
“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”
“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 
You shrug. 
“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”
“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”
“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 
Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.
“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”
You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.
“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”
In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 
“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 
Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 
“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 
“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 
Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 
Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 
“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.
“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.
He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.
“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”
Ah. He’s one of those guys. 
“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 
“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”
“God, you are such a bore.” 
Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.
“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 
“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”
Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 
“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 
He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 
“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 
He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.
 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.
“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 
“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 
“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.
“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 
Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.
“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”
You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 
“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 
“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”
Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.
“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.
It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 
“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”
He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”
“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”
Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”
“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”
Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”
“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”
His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 
“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 
Offense taken. 
And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 
“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”
“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 
He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.
When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 
You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.
“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.
“Very monotonous, very you.”
Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.
“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”
You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.
“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”
He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.
“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”
Oh, okay.
“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”
Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.
“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”
You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 
“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 
“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 
You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 
“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 
“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 
You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.
He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.
 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 
“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 
You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 
“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 
“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.
Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 
“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 
You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 
“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”
You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 
Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.
“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 
“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 
You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 
“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.
Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 
When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.
“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 
You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 
Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 
Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 
“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”
You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.
So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 
He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 
Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 
“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 
The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 
He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.
He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 
Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 
“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”
That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 
Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 
You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 
This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.
“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 
You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.
Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 
“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”
Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 
You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 
“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.
Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 
“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”
He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 
You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.
“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”
He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.
His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 
“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”
You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 
Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 
You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 
This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.
God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.
And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.
You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 
When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 
“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”
You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 
“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 
Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.
“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”
He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 
“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 
He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–
You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 
“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”
You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 
Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.
“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.
You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 
“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”
Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 
Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 
“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”
This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.
“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.
He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 
“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”
“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.
Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.
He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 
“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 
You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.
Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  
And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 
He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 
“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”
You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 
He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 
God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 
“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.
“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 
He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 
You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.
His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 
You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 
You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.
He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 
“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 
You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 
Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.
The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.
Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.
“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 
You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 
Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.
You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.
“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”
She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 
“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”
His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 
“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”
Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 
“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.
“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.
“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 
“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”
Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 
“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”
She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 
It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.
“I wouldn’t be against it.”
“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 
“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”
You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 
“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”
Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 
“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
2K notes · View notes
kalims · 19 days
Text
pop !
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giving them a balloon with a confession in it and running away,
premise. out of confession ideas? sick of the pile of stupid papers crumpled up on the leg of your desk? or perhaps you're just in the 'you only live life once' mindset. since the school year is ending, why not get rid of the annoying feeling of him tingling your mind? (in the form of a balloon, you never said you were gonna stick around!)
characters. all sorted by dorm
content. mc runs away after giving it, based on a tiktok I stumbled across approximately a year ago... mentions of marriage (one sign and some were speeding through the future)
note. savanaclaws part hmmm yummy
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heartslabyul
unsurprisingly, riddle gets a lot of bizarre things from students and professors alike. confessions are one thing but having one in this... circular, red, full of helium balloon is certainly a surprise. creative, he'll give them that. if anything he's just confused with it in his arms as you just sort of, shove it in his arms and run away. he recognizes you easily but once cater plucks it out of his grip and shows him the message he just turns red.
trey is the type of guy to accept whatever you give him, honestly. it doesn't matter if you give him the most random of items, he'll take it without a single word of query (unless it's really questionable.) you could hand him a bottle of mustard in class, trey'll just blink and hold onto it patiently. a pair of batteries? thanks he guesses. a red, inflated balloon? he spares you a questioning glance but you're already collecting dust with how fast you ran away so he turns it and resists a smile. clearly spotting the bold letters.
the opposite of clover, cater just doesn't take anything from you unless it piques his interest or is just a casual 'hold onto this for a few' like water or something. things bordering past unusual is what he'd hesitate to take, though less given he trusts you. sometimes he doesn't take it all together simply cause he doesn't feel like it. caters probably updated on everything so when you shove the balloon in his arms and beeline he's pulling out his phone ready to scream his ass off in his dump account. (also gotta magicam this, duh.)
will most likely just dump it on the ground without another thought. or hand it back to you. ace does not care about balloons, he might even pop it in your face. that is, if you stayed for more than a second. he feels more inclined to peer further cause you ran away so fast. you looked embarrassed, and he finds out quickly why you'd proceed to never show up to his face for the following week when he spots it. stares at it dumbly for like, a minute before taking off after you... be scared ig.
added to the top ten best moments of his life note on his phone. deuce silently highlights your name on it with the same angry, red bump on his forehead because he accidentally ran into a pole midst trying to find you around the campus. he had the same idea as ace (twins) which is finding you immediately except once he read the confession he promptly lost all his braincells in the process. so he's very excited, slash embarrassed, slash shy? and can't conjure any logic cause it's just your face.
savanaclaw
jokes on you. you think he's gonna make an effort to catch your stupid balloon? leona just watches it drop to the floor. the effort is only exerted when he's absolutely sure you've run away on your slow legs, he's not bashful—not at all. maybe that's just denial speaking though. he takes one look at the balloon, and pops it with a single dig of his nail. the stare is so brief that you'd doubt if he ever read it at all, when the evidence of your apparent love is now non-existent in the physical world, very much still lingering inside him. leona comes to the predicament that he can't seem to sleep days after.
ruggie is all too familiar with the lack of appreciation some folks hold towards cheaper material gifts. like a luxury jewel, a big, shiny lil' thing ultimately rotting in the closet of some soul cause its the 'price' that counts. he spots the words easily, discerning the black ink. not entirely formed with straight lines, the keen eyes of his spots the wriggles some hold. as though whoever wrote was nervous and he bores an impish grin. (and some back corner of his closet holds no big, pricey jewel, but the deflated balloon is worth all the more to him.)
more likely to leave it on accident. after falling victim to the annoying pranks his other first year 'friends' like to do, with him as the victim apparently. he's more suspicious of it than anything, jack does not want a face full of whipped cream once again. he stares at it like it's an alien and only goes for the initiative to take it into his hands when it rolls and showcases the very bold text, highlighted and straight to the point. jack inevitably ends up accidentally popping it due to the fear that some other person probably saw it, he did not mean to wreck it. atleast not with a messy chain of thoughts, but hey. atleast he got the message...
octavinelle
well versed in catching you in a gentle manner, if you ever slipped (he definitely did not practice.) so azul's reflexes respond quick enough to capture the red little thing with ease. he recognizes it as one of your antics, and he rarely doesn't humor them since it was harmless ones that don't really get under his skin, unlike that of the tweels... the curiosity of looking forward to whatever you had far outweighed any annoyance, and great sevens he might actually combust. ("JADE PREPARE THE LOUNGE—") <- absolutely ready to initiate the plans he had detailed through a script ages ago if this were to ever happen, with a red face. ha, ha.
either clueless, or already got an idea based entirely on the adorably stiff look on your face. jade easily puts two and two together, it's quite funny because he picks it up and doesn't spare a single look. stalking off to find you immediately, and only then does he take a peek as to whatever made the balloon special, right in front of you cause apparently he's gotta witness your raw embarrassment in the flesh?
floyd is likely not interested in the ball in the first place, he thinks you want to play catch so he runs after you with a laugh that... makes you a lot more concerned. he flings it uselessly to the face of some poor soul before he sprint after you, probably traumatizing them when they spot the 'I like you' on it, and when they realize they got it from the resident terrorist whose definition of 'I like you' is 'you're entertaining, I'm gonna keep on playing with you'. (only blinks when you tell him about it, seeing as he isn't close to releasing you anytime soon from his arms.) caught you!
scarabia
sparkles, around the sun... too bright... kalim's blinding everyone else with his obvious joy. almost immediately turns it and it's clear he saw something he really liked cause he has one of those grins, really wide, showing off his teeth and his face scrunches up to the point where you could barely spot the red irises of his eyes. his lips are wobbly too! and he thought the notion was simply too cute... (so much he just had to send it back, so you could feel what he felt too!) except it comes in a hundred times balloons inside your home.
really confused. is this supposed to be a new form of comfort in the era that he hasn't caught up with yet? jamil does nothing much to stop you from running away, yeah. that's your choice but it did strike an inkling of suspicion in him. with the way you aggressively shoved the balloon in his arms before you ran away makes him think it's contents are supposed to be for him only. seeing as you collected dust with that sprint, so he brings it home. and damn, thank god he did because seven forbid if anyone else actually saw the flicker of bashfullness in his expression, hopefully not his warming ears either.
pomefiore
you try to fool him by not rushing up to him, shoving it and then speeding away for once. but instead calmly placing it in his arms and then walking away like it might be the last time yall have a friendship haha (👀) vil sees right through you either way. dare I say he thinks the whole execution is strange, he means, you could literally just walk up to him and say the exact same thing written on the balloon and he would've loved it either way but eh, atleast you got it out!
don't walk into his room cause you will probably the very prominent place the balloon has in his room. rook surprisingly did not put it on a pedestal which is tame for his nature, but it does have a place in the corner of stuff he absolutely adores. you'd think you'd spared yourself from the embarrassment of seeing his reaction cause c'mon, that was a confession. it's nerve-wracking! but NO cause you spy him outside the window of your class and suffer a heart attack (3rd floor btw)
wherever he read that, epel's jaw drops. people would mistake him as someone who escaped from a mental asylum from the way he's gaping at a balloon like he just got told vil schoenheit got canceled on magicam for some controversy (he in fact, did not.) spends so much time staring at it, and the following where he's managed to snap out of it is spent also staring off into the distance *wedding bells ringing*
ignihyde
uuuuhhhhh... either send it to him digitally or shove it inside his room and dip?? if we're going with the latter, idia doesn't even notice until like, a day after cause he's been playing for. and it isn't even him who notices!! it's ortho!!! even if he did find it he would've ignored it, but behold, ortho, who reads the text in a hilariously flat tone. idia thought his brother was professing his love until the boy reveals it was from you. (nearly falls off the chair, then actually falls when he realizes it's been a day. imagine getting ghosted irl haha)
ortho could be the delivery boy if you're too embarrassed lmao. will help you in constructing a more poetic way with words but honestly the "YOU'RE CUTE LETS DATE" gets it done. boy probably doesn't understand why you don't wanna do it yourself, and records the entire thing, reaction of the person? forwarded to you until he leaves. but now you're suffering through wanting to watch, and not because you're too pussy to actually do it.
diasomnia
what... malleus is the equivalent of '???' like he's seen a few of these unique, forms but he never got the purpose of them. so he assumes it's like, some nice gift of human traditions question mark. so he appreciates it either way, he looks content honestly which is funny cause the terrifying wizard looks kinda silly holding that balloon like it's a child. actually you should've just gave him a blank balloon cause once he spots the confession, oh honey. are you fine with early marriage?
if you can't find lilia might as well yeet the balloon in the ceiling. chances are, he's there and he's gonna catch it. there's already a cheeky smile quirking up the ends of his lips, usually he'd have some sort of retaliation on the personal attack you inflicted on his heart but oh dear, it's strangely blank. he's humming, the round thing upside down as he rubs his chin in contemplation. everyone's just scared at the echoing giggles of the already dark hallway.
an attack? AN ATTACK! unlike lilia who knows how to use the figurative words youth joke about all the time, sebek is... hilariously serious about most things, if not so much that it strikes just a teeny tiny concern in your mind. honestly you didn't take much into account, not the fact that he might consider it as an assault or something because you're already speeding away. apparently not having gotten too far cause he catches up easily and holds you up by the back of your collar like a cat. (you'd most likely have to mention the words cause all he registered was the apparent attack, when he does check he goes redder in the face and accidentally drops you. nows your chance to run!!)
*angelic voice singing* silver, my boo boo, I mean what...? felt something soft being squeezed into his arms, he knew it was you but assumed it was a pillow so he just?? used it as a pillow?? under his head now?? most folks would be confused at the sight of the sleepy guy laying on a balloon cause, one, it might pop and startle everyone in vicinity, two, there's words scribbled on it. although cut off since his head is blocking the way, but the 'LIKE YOU' is really obvious. so he wakes up, glances at it and goes back to sleep, except he couldn't cause the balloon actually popped comically the same time he absorbed it in.
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boringkate · 11 months
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Here’s a Mega folder with a handful of junk for you trans girls to watch
https://mega.nz/folder/g14TWJaL#u5hER7DzOJbdJbAR0mhtBQ
///TGIRL FEATURE FILMS (alphabetical order)
Adam (2019) it's about a cis boy who's mistaken for a trans boy and rolls with it. Big cast of trans characters including a tgirl played by a tgirl who everyone wants to fuck. Directed by a trans dude. Highly legit. If you're still hung up on pre release speculation based on the novel then you're the most annoying person alive.
Assassination Nation (2018) The first half is Euphoria and the second half is The Purge. ONE OF THE BEST TGIRL MOVIES OF ALL TIME.
Bit (2019) Lesbian girl power vampire movie where the main character is a tgirl played by a tgirl. It's solid. I find it frustrating that they hint at her being trans without explicitly acknowledging it (and she's passing as fuck, so it's easy to not notice), but I know that's what some of y'all want.
Boy Meets Girl (2014) Cis dude for trans girl love story. Pretty normie, but also you see her fully naked (gock out) at the end.
Funeral Parade of Roses (1969) Extremely 60s. Cool as hell.
Lady Daddy (2010) South Korean romcom about a trans girl played by a cis girl who tries unconvincingly to back pass when she finds out she has a kid. Very cute.
Lingua Franca (2019) written directed and starring Isabel Sandoval. An undocumented trans woman immigrant in New York deals with a cis dude partner being a cis dude. Which is also the plot of The Garden Left Behind (2019).
Myra Breckinridge (1970) Raquel Welch is a trans woman and her goal is the destruction of the last vestigial traces of traditional manhood! It's Fight Club! It's Hackers! It's divisive, but it's probably my favorite movie!
So Pretty (2019) Literally the first scripted feature length (non pornographic tho it does have cock) film to feature two trans women played by trans women kissing eachother.
Something Must Break (2014) THE OTHER BEST TGIRL MOVIE OF ALL TIME. Drugs. Crimes. Gock. Slow motion pissing. Slow motion park Fucking. Genuinely the most beautiful sex scene I've seen in any movie. And she makes it to the end still alive and more sure of herself and at peace than ever.
Tangerine (2015) Groundbreaking and also a bunch of the secondary characters are real life pornstars (which I think is neat).
The Garden Left Behind (2019) This and Lingua Franca (2019) really are tgirl twin films, but (like with Antz and A Bug’s Life) the vibes and details make them distinct (I assume tho tbh I’ve never watched Antz).
///TGIRL DOCUMENTARIES
Bambi (2013) about a trans girl showgirl in 50s/60s paris
Paris is Burning (1990) basically it's Pose.
Shinjuku Boys (1995) Trans dudes working in a tokyo club that caters to tboy chasing cis girls. There's at least one trans girl in the mix too.
///FORCED FEMINIZATION
A Reflection of Fear (1972) They raised her as a girl and it made her do murders! It drags in places, but the girl in it is so ethereal and it has ageplay vibes and daddy issues.
Memory Run (1996) A very fun direct to video scifi action flick about fighting fascism by blowing up your pre transition self with a rocket launcher + it's based on a novel written by a trans woman.
She-Man A Story of Fixation (1967) Notable for being such a cliche sissy maid fantasy while also coming out so early + it was Bob Clark's first film lol.
Sleepaway Camp (1983) A more famous version of Reflection of Fear.
Surrender Dorothy (1998) A MUST WATCH. I personally bought a physical DVD and made an ISO of it for you because I was unsatisfied with the quality of the only copy that seemed to exist online. I ALSO PERSONALLY CREATED MY OWN SUBTITLES FOR IT BECAUSE EVEN THE DVD DIDN’T INCLUDE ANY! WHICH TOOK HOURS TO DO!
The Skin I Live In (2011) A rapist is kidnapped and turned into a girl by a mournful vengeful plastic surgeon. Which was also the plot of Victim (2010). I never really vibe with Pedro Almodóvar movies, but I recognize this is the preeminent forced feminization film.
///SHORT FILMS
Gender Troublemakers (1993) Some 90s Toronto trans girls fucking and discoursing. Explicit tgirl on tgirl action. This is the only one on the list that I haven’t actually watched yet. I’m hyped to watch it tho. Seems mindblowingly rad af.
Happy Birthday Marsha (2018) It's about Marsha P. Johnson.
I don't Know (1971) I'm obsessed with the trans girl in this one she just keeps popping up in all kinds of early 70s stuff. Directed by Penelope Spheeris (who is the sister of the cis gf in it).
Mesmeralda (2019) AN ABSOLUTE BANGER HOLY FUCK THE VIBES ARE OFF THE CHARTS! PLS WATCH THIS! I refuse to apologize for it being 15GB or to re encode it. It’s worth every byte and I want to ensure that this full quality copy doesn’t disappear off of the internet.
Pat Rocco's Changes (1970) It's that same girl again!
Queens at Heart (1967) I can't get over that hairdresser girl thinking she's back passing. Most adorably weak boymode ever.
Shangri-La (2021) Another Isabel Sandoval joint.
The Yellow Wallpaper (2021) Freshly post op girl with a supportive boyfriend goes unhinged.
Undress Me (2012) Jana Bringlöv Ekspong did a few short films. Give janabringlove a google after watching this.
///JUST LIKE BTW
Some of these would be tough to find elsewhere, but most of the movies are also watchable on fmovies and/or can be torrented in higher quality.
After you've worked your way through the folder then just start doing Google searches for trans films. Look at IMDB keywords and letterboxd lists. There are so many more out there. These are just like my personal picks.
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strangerstilinski · 15 days
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𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers
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It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.
And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.
Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-
You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.
“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.
His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.
“What are you even talking abou-”
“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.
“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”
“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”
Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.
“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”
“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”
“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.
“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.
“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”
“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.
“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”
“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”
“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”
“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”
“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”
The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.
You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.
“Y'know what? Fine.”
You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.
“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”
“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”
There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.
“Hey! Wait up.”
Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.
“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”
You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.
“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”
You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.
The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.
“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.
It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-
The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.
His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.
Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.
“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.
“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”
His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.
“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”
“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.
“Why-”
Kiss.
“Are you-”
Kiss.
“Kissing me?”
Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”
“No. Hell no.”
And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.
He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.
You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.
“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”
You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”
When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.
It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.
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theemporium · 8 months
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[8.3k] the five times you tried to deny it, and the one time you and quinn gave into the bond pulling you together. (smut included)
based off this. smut included but it's not explicit. i may write a more detailed smut one shot in this universe later.
.
The first time you shared a moment with Quinn Hughes, you truly thought you were out-of-your-mind insane. 
You weren’t even five years old when you first met the Hughes family. Your family had just moved, you were new to town and you were just confused why your whole life had to be packed up in boxes (no matter how many times your parents explained it). 
And somewhere between the tears of being unable to find your favourite teddy in the cardboard boxes and not giving in to your parents’ bribes that you now had your very own—and fairly big—room in the new house, you had met Luke Hughes. 
It was indescribable the way the bond between you and the youngest Hughes boy just snapped, but it was the only way to explain it. One day you were moving to a scary, new place and the next you were attached to the hip with an awkward, little boy who you loved like family. 
Where Luke went, you followed.
When you jumped, Luke was right behind you. 
You were a package deal, never one without each other. And it had always been the case. You were best friends. You shared something that went deeper than friendship and blood. You were each other’s person, and there was no doubt about that in anybody’s mind. 
Your family became Luke’s and, in turn, his became yours. Ellen was a strong, empowering figure in your life that felt like a second mother. Jim was kind and encouraging, guiding you through some of your lowest moments. Even Jack felt like an older brother, someone who teased you and taunted you but defended you if anybody else tried to do the same.
But with Quinn, there was nothing. 
For years, you were just his annoying little brother’s annoying little friend. And when you grew up, he was so focused on hockey that your paths rarely crossed, even with the countless amount of time you spent under the Hughes’ roof. You reached high school, he was already off to college. And when you and Luke got into Michigan, Quinn was already settled in Vancouver and playing in the big leagues like he always dreamed of. 
He was by no means an asshole or a dick to you, your relationship with the oldest Hughes brother was just…non-existent. He was just there in your life. He was Luke’s oldest brother than you sometimes saw around, and nothing more. 
You didn’t think that would ever change over time, let alone in the span of one summer.
There was no question that you would join the Hughes family at their lakehouse in the summer the second you finished up with finals. You had decided to spend some time back home with your parents before you joined the boys at the lakehouse, just as the friends started to fly in and it felt like it would be the same as every other summer. 
You were painfully wrong. 
Despite only just arriving, you should have known better than thinking the Hughes brothers were capable of a lazy day. The second your bags were dropped in your designated room (just beside Luke’s at the end of the hallway), they had dragged you out onto the boat and demanded to make up for lost time. 
You laughed until tears were streaming down your cheeks. You ate until you swore you’d explode if you had another bite. You drank until the beers started to make you feel a little buzzed and settled and content. You sat around the dinner table sharing jokes and stories and random thoughts until, one by one, everyone tapped in for the night.
But not you. 
Despite the travelling and the tiring day you had, the exhaustion in your bones wasn’t enough to settle you. You felt restless. You felt wide awake. You didn’t have the heart to lie in your bed and aimlessly stare at the ceiling. So, with the knowledge that Luke was already out like a light with no hope of waking up until the sun rises, you found yourself sitting on one of the chairs outside by the fire pit, the dying embers your only company as you enjoyed the serene silence of the lakehouse. 
At least, they were your only company until he followed you outside. 
“Couldn’t sleep?”
You turned your head to look away from the slowing fire and towards the lakehouse, where you found the eldest Hughes brother walking towards you. He had changed from the clothes he was wearing earlier, the shirt and shorts now replaced with sweatpants and a hoodie. Your lips twitched upwards when you noticed it was a Devils jersey he probably stole from his brothers, and one he probably wouldn’t dare to wear outside the privacy of the lakehouse.
You shook your head before nodding back towards the house. “What about you? Luke’s snores too much to deal with?”
Quinn breathed out a laugh. “We both got the short end of the stick sharing a wall with him.” 
“You can say that again,” you murmured with a snort before you turned to face the fire pit again. “At least it’s peaceful out here.”
“And cold,” Quinn noted. 
“I think that hoodie is keeping you warm enough,” you mused as he closed the distance to the firepit, now standing behind your seat. You almost jumped when you felt him place the blanket over your shoulders, not having even noticed he was holding it when he came out here. 
“I meant for you,” Quinn stated simply before he took the spot next to you, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both sat there, staring at the dying fire. “You’re not even wearing a jacket.”
“Sorry, dad,” you joked, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but you could have sworn you saw his lips twitch upwards. “It’s fine, I was heading back inside anyways.”
His brows furrowed together as you moved to stand up. “You looked quite settled though.”
“Well yeah,” you started, your cheeks burning as you noticed him nodding for you to continue. “I don’t know, I just thought you wanted to sit out here.”
He blinked. “So you were gonna leave?”
“I’ve had my time. I’m not gonna get in the way of your…silent brooding,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders.
He tilted his head to the side before he spoke. “You don’t have to leave. We can…silently brood together.”
This time it was your brows that furrowed together.
“Unless you don’t want to stay out here with me…” Quinn trailed off, a little awkwardly. 
“It’s not that, it’s just—” you started, pausing for a moment before you shrugged again. “We don’t really talk.”
Quinn frowned. “We talk.”
“Quinn, this is the longest conversation we’ve had in six years,” you pointed out to him. He opened his mouth like he was about to counter your statement, but after a few moments it seemed like he realised you were telling the truth. 
“Okay, maybe that’s true, but…it doesn’t have to be anymore,” he said as he patted the spot next to him, the spot you were sitting in a few minutes ago. “I mean, you’re like family”
You hesitated for a short moment before you settled in the spot next to him. It took a few more seconds before you finally had the guts to lift the end of the blanket, offering it to him with a sheepish smile. It took every single part of you burning with hope that it was too dark to notice the way your cheeks burned a little as he happily accepted the blanket and wrapped it around himself too.
“Up until junior year in high school, I thought you hated me,” you confessed, blurting the words out before you had a chance to stop yourself.
“What? Really?” He questioned, somewhat incredulously before he frowned. “What changed?”
“I realised you were just like that with everyone,” you admitted. “You all have your roles. Jack is the hyper-active golden retriever brother. Luke is, like, a black cat. Kinda keeps to himself, but he’s clingy when he trusts you.”
Quinn hummed, his eyes focused on the side of your face. “And me?”
“The grumpy cat,” you said as you turned to look at him, your voice a little breathless as you continued. “You look like you hate everyone, but you probably love the hardest. I’ve seen it with Luke. You act like he annoys you but…you probably love him more than anyone else in the world.”
“Other than you,” he noted.
You grinned a little. “Oh please, we aren’t on the same level. I mean, you can try to compete but you’ll lose.”
Quinn snorted, and it took you by surprise. “Yeah, you and my brother have your weird…psychic thing. I don’t think anyone could compare.” He paused for a few moments before he spoke up again. “You know, he threatened me about you once.”
You let out a noise of disbelief. “What?”
“The bond between you,” Quinn laughed.
Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. “When?”
“It was when you broke your arm when you were like seven years old,” Quinn said. “You were bummed that whole summer.”
“It was meant to be the first year me and Luke could go tubing alone,” you murmured as the memories flashed through your mind. You hated every second a camera was pointed at you and the massive cast on your arm.
“I won this massive bag of sour patch kids at that carnival game and I knew they were your favourites,” he continued. “But Luke threw a tantrum. He cried to Dad that I was trying to steal his best friend, that I was bribing you. He said that if I gave you the bag, he would push me off the boat when Dad was going full speed.”
Your lips parted as you let out a surprised laugh. “Oh wow,” you murmured with a shake of your head. “That bastard robbed me out of a huge bag of sour patch kids.”
Quinn laughed, shaking his head. “That’s all you took from that story? Not the fact that he almost killed me?” 
“Eh,” you shrugged. “You’re here now, aren’t you? But you know what’s not here? The bag of sour patch kids.”
“It was really good,” Quinn mused playfully as you lightly dug an elbow into his ribs. “Ouch. Kidding.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m really not,” he confessed before smiling softly. “I’ll get you another to make up for it.”
You sighed dramatically. “It’s not the same.”
“What? You want me to win it again?” Quinn questioned, though you could hear the amusement in his voice.
You wiggled your eyebrows. “Scared you’ll fail?”
“Absolutely not,” Quinn announced before offering his hand. “Fine. Deal.”
“Deal,” you repeated as you shook his hand.
But neither one of you pulled away. You sat there, huddled under the tartan blanket he had taken from the linen closet on the second floor, staring as you held onto each other’s hand. You could have pulled away. You should have pulled away. But some part of you kind of liked the feeling of his large, warm hand engulfing yours. 
“You sure I won’t steal you away from Luke?” Quinn murmured, his eyes watching your face closely.
You smiled softly. “Depends how big the bag is.”
And he laughed, finally pulling his hand away as he turned his attention back to the firepit, and you were left wondering what the fuck just happened between you and Quinn Hughes.
You shared many moments with Quinn Hughes after that night, but the second time it really hit you again, you had no doubt that whatever was happening between you both was definitely a mutual feeling.
It was one of the hottest days of the summer, so it only made sense to take the boat out on the lake. With a backpack full of snacks and suncream, along with a cooler packed to the brim with water and beer bottles, you were set to have a good day. 
Despite the heat, you had been wearing one of Luke’s old UMICH shirts as an overdress as you sat on the boat, pressed against him as Quinn took charge of driving. For reasons that were beyond your own understanding, you hadn’t opened up to your best friend about the growing friendship between you and his brother. You didn’t know why. You knew it wasn’t really a big deal.
But some part of you wanted to keep the bond bubbling between you and Quinn just for yourself, a secret shared between you two.
“Twenty bucks says Trevor tries to do a backflip before Jack,” Luke murmured to you as you both watched the other two boys, already playfully shoving each other. 
“An extra says his heels hit the back of his head when he does it,” you murmured back, your lips twitching when Luke let out a loud, sudden laugh that caught the attention of the other boys.
“Quinn, they are doing it again!” Jack called out.
Luke frowned. “Doing what?”
“Being you,” Jack retorted, causing the youngest Hughes to roll his eyes.
“Stop being jealous, Rowdy,” you teased, flashing him a mocking pout. “Just cause you and Trevor wish you had what we have.” 
“What we have is better,” Trevor insisted. 
You and Luke shared a look before you both replied, “sure, Jan.” 
“God, that is weird,” Cole murmured, sitting on the other side of you and Luke with an oddly curious expression. 
“Wait until you see them move in sync,” Alex grumbled, his nose scrunched up. “It’s creepy.”
“I can’t believe we are on a boat with a bunch of jealous bitches,” you mused to your best friend, who only snorted in response. 
By the time the boat had been anchored and settled, it took less than three seconds before most of the boys were jumping into the lake. Luke had tried to drag you in with him, but you batted his hands away. You should’ve known better than to think he would give up. 
You only had enough time to shriek when Luke lifted you in his arms, not thinking twice before he threw you off the edge before following. By the time you broke through the surface, he was already laughing his ass off with the majority of the other boys. 
“Dick!” You laughed at him. 
“You still love me!” He called back. 
“Unfortunately.” 
You made your way towards the boat, kicking your legs to get you away from Luke as quickly as you could. You reached for the small ladder, your hands gripping the metal as you tried to pull yourself back up onto the boat. 
“Here, let me help.” 
You didn’t get a chance to respond before Quinn’s hands were wrapped around your waist, practically hauling you back onto the boat with ease. Your cheeks burned as you stumbled into him, your hands on his bare chest as you found your footing. 
“Sorry,” you flashed him a sheepish smile. 
But he didn’t look that bothered. “No worries at all.” 
You glanced down at Luke’s shirt you were still wearing when he had thrown you in. It was absolutely soaked, and now laid heavy against your skin as you gently picked at the hem. 
“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath. “I didn’t bring anything else.” 
“I have a hoodie you can borrow,” Quinn muttered out, far too quickly and, for a moment, you wondered if the pink on his cheeks was a blush or sunburn. “If you want.” 
“I—yeah,” you eventually stuttered out. “That would be great.” 
It hasn’t even been purposeful. It just made sense to peel the wet shirt over your head, hoping to wring it out and let it dry in the sun while you swim around for another hour or so. You didn’t even think twice when you wiggled out of it. You didn’t think it was a big deal until you lifted your head and found Quinn staring at you, lips parted and hoodie held aimlessly in his hand as he gaped at you. 
“You good?” You questioned as though your heart wasn’t racing in your chest at his eyes on you. 
“Yeah, no,” Quinn cleared his throat, blinking a few times. “Just…yeah.”
You raised your brows. “Never seen a girl in a bikini before, Hughes?” 
“Never seen you in one,” he corrected, and something about his response caught you off guard. Maybe because you weren’t expecting him to admit it. “You’re gorgeous.” 
You tilted your head to the side. “You sound surprised by that.” 
“What?” His eyes widened slightly. “No! No, I didn’t mean like that—” 
“STOP BEING A CHICKEN AND GET BACK IN HERE!” 
You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes narrowing down at your best friend. “I’m not a chicken!” 
“Prove it then!” Luke called out. 
You turned back around to look at Quinn who hadn’t torn his eyes away from you. He looked like he wanted to say something, maybe even finish what he started a few moments ago before he was interrupted. But in the end, he couldn’t find himself able to say a single word. 
You didn’t turn to look back at him as you raced back into the water, your stomach churning. Maybe it was the curiosity of wanting to know what he was going to say. Maybe it was the surprise that Quinn of all people couldn’t get his words out. Maybe you were still trying to navigate the weird shift in dynamic between you. 
Or maybe it was because Quinn Hughes called you gorgeous and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 
But, for what it was worth, you still slid his hoodie over your head when you got out of the water. Even if the shirt was dried by that point. 
And you could’ve sworn you saw him smile when you did. 
The third time was undeniable. You felt something for Quinn Hughes, and it was reciprocated. 
It was another sleepless night. Something in the air felt different, like it had shifted. And now you were left alone in the quietness of the lakehouse somewhere in the early hours of the morning.
The days had started to blur into each other, passing in a happy daze as you basked in a summer spent with some of your closest friends. Today had been no different with made-up tournaments of pool and darts, tanning by the lake and drinks shared that put a hefty dent in the supply from the fridge. 
You were buzzed and happy by the time you made your way to the room, finding yourself in Luke’s room before the boy eventually dozed off somewhere between your rambles of who could actively fight a horse-sized duck and the latest season of your favourite show you had been convincing him to watch. You had slid out of his room, heading towards your own room to settle down for the night. 
But that restless feeling returned. 
Instead, your steps lead you down the stairs and into the kitchen. You had propped yourself on the island, a glass of water sat beside you and your eyes focused on the window above the sink. It was quiet. So quiet. And some part of you resented it, that you were the only one awake right now. 
But just like last time, you were quickly disproven of your assumption.
Your head turned when you heard footsteps approaching and, for a second, you thought maybe it was Luke. But the steps didn’t sound heavy enough to be his, and there was nothing in this world that could wake that boy from his slumber. 
You shouldn’t have been surprised to find Quinn standing in the doorway instead. 
He was dressed like he had just crawled out of bed. With grey sweatpants that laid low on his hips and a white shirt that clung onto every crevice and curve of his torso, he stood in the kitchen doorway with bleary eyes and a small frown on his face. 
“Why are you still awake?”
You shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“I’m starting to think you have insomnia or something,” he murmured, running a hand through the messy curls on his head, but it did little to tame them. Your lips twitched at the sight. “Or maybe I’ve just never noticed how shitty your sleep schedule was before.”
“Kick a girl when she’s down,” you mused playfully as you watched him lean against the frame. “Why are you awake right now? You look like you’re seconds from falling asleep.” 
Quinn hummed in agreement. “I’m a light sleeper.”
Your brows furrowed together. “So?”
“So, I heard you thumping down the stairs and into the kitchen,” Quinn said, the corners of his lips lifting when he heard the noise that left your lips.
“Thumping?” You repeated with a scoff.
“Thumping,” he nodded in confirmation before pushing himself off the frame, closing the distance between the kitchen entrance and the kitchen counter you were currently sitting on. “You’re very heavy-footed.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that the next time we skate together,” you grumbled, your eyes glued on the oldest Hughes as he sleepily shuffled towards you. Your legs parted almost instantly as he settled between them, his hands on either side of you as he looked up at you with a slight hazed look on his face. 
“You’d never catch me,” he murmured softly.
“Is that a challenge?” You retorted.
Quinn shook his head as he breathed out his nose. “Do you have to turn everything into a competition?”
“It makes things more fun,” you told him, painfully aware of how close you were. It wasn’t like the boat, there was no one else in the kitchen. Just you, Quinn and the accompanying silence of the lakehouse. You wondered if you should have felt guilty for enjoying it so much. 
“I can think of a million other things that are more fun,” he countered, his head tilting to the side as he lifted his head to look at you.
A beat passed before you replied, “want to show me some?”
You didn’t miss the way his eyes instantly dropped to your lips. You felt something deep in your stomach twist in delight, in satisfaction even. His eyes lingered there for one, two, three seconds before his eyes met yours again. They were darker, a little more awake than they were minutes ago when he shuffled into the kitchen. They made your chest feel tight. 
“I can’t,” he murmured, his voice a little breathless and strained. “You’re Luke’s best friend.”
“And you’re Luke’s brother,” you countered. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I shouldn’t,” he insisted. 
You leaned forward a little, your nose brushing against his. “But do you want to?”
There was a pause. It was brief and barely lasted a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime passed between you both. You sat on the counter, Quinn standing in front of you, and the deafening silence that surrounded you both. It didn’t feel like you were in the kitchen, let alone the lakehouse. You were in your own little bubble, weighing up the consequences of what was about to happen. 
And in that little bubble, every single one of them seemed worth it.
A small noise of surprise left you as Quinn leaned forward, his hands moving to cup the back of your head as he pressed his lips against yours. You melted into his embrace embarrassingly quick, your hands resting on his chest as you found your lips moving against his. It was hesitant and a little off-pace, like both of you were trying to figure out what you were doing.
And then he pulled away, just enough to catch a glimpse of your face but it was short-lasting before your hands were fisting his shirt and pulling him in for another kiss. 
The kisses became more confident, more sure. His hands dropped from the back of your head, gliding down your back and resting on your hips before he was pulling you towards the edge of the counter. You wrapped your legs around his torso, your arms following suit around his neck and, fuck, who knew kissing Quinn Hughes could be so addictive?
“Shit,” you breathed out, your head falling back as his lips trailed along your jaw and down the column of your neck. His beard scratched against your skin, tickling and teasing and your legs tightened around him. “Quinn.”
“Sound pretty when you say my name,” his words vibrated against your skin, his hands tightening their grip. 
“That feels good,” you whined, your body arching into him as his teeth grazed along a sensitive spot on the base of your neck. Your heart was beating against your ribs, the coil in your stomach was tightening as his hands teased the hem of your shirt and the painful realisation that it had been far too long since a guy had touched you made you eager to keep him close.
“Yeah?” You could hear the cockiness in his voice. “I make you feel good, sweetheart?”
“Quinn,” you murmured, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment when he pulled away to look at you.
“Say it,” he said, his fingers squeezing your cheeks together when you tried to turn your head away. 
“You make me feel good,” you whispered, a little breathless.
His chest moved with soft pants, his hooded eyes dropping down to your red, swollen lips. “Do you want me to stop?”
You shook your head.
“Words, baby,” he murmured, his fingers squeezing your cheeks again as you stared at him with wide eyes. “I want you to be sure of what you’re doing.”
You rolled your eyes. “I know I wanna fuck you, Quinn, I’m not some stupid little kid anymore.”
“I never once thought you were,” he said simply, and before you even got the chance to reply, his lips were pressed against your again.
You didn’t remember much about the journey to Quinn’s room. All you knew was that he was strong—really fucking strong—which shouldn’t have surprised you for a professional athlete. But when he had the strength and control to pick you up with ease and walk up to his room on nothing but muscle memory as he made you whine and squirm in his grasp, you had to find it more than a little impressive. 
Your back bounced against the mattress as you pulled him down, eager to feel the weight of him on top of you. You weren’t exactly what you felt for the oldest Hughes brother. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know.
But in that moment you wanted him. You wanted him on top of you. You wanted him inside of you. You wanted him in a way you had never wanted Quinn Hughes in your life, and maybe if you weren’t so lost in your own desperation to feel his skin against yours, it would have freaked you out. 
But right now, your focus was on him. 
Your clothes laid abandoned in a pile on his bedroom floor, right beside his sweatpants and shirt. His hands were all over you, touching you and stroking you and holding you. His lips trailed over your bare skin, desperate to kiss every fucking inch like his life depended on it. 
And when you felt his curls tickling your skin, his beard scratching against your inner thighs and his nose nudging against your sensitive clit, your need to feel him inside you was almost unbearable. 
“Please,” you cried out, your fists clenching the navy bed sheets beneath you as you squirmed under his grasp. “Quinn, I need—”
“I know what you need, honey,” he murmured, his lips and chin still wet with your arousal as he trailed kisses up your stomach and between your tits before his lips claimed yours. “Gonna give you what you want.” 
The noises you let out were muffled by his lips against yours, his tongue teasing along your bottom lip before sliding into your mouth. Whispered pants and soft praises were shared between heavy kisses as Quinn ripped open the foil, his forehead pressed against yours as he whispered how good you were doing before he finally bottomed out inside of you. 
Your experience with men in bed wasn’t large or extensive, but no one had ever treated you the way Quinn Hughes did. He was generous and caring. He was attentive and passionate. He was bigger than anyone you had ever slept with before. And even in the quiet hours of the lakehouse and the slow roll of his hips, he had you pressing your face into the pillows to muffle the noises you were making. 
And much to your surprise, he held you against his chest when it was all over, rather than letting you slide out of bed and awkwardly scramble to leave the room. 
“Quinn,” you started, your head tucked under his chin as his fingers trailed along your bare back.
“Yeah?” 
“What are we doing?” 
Quinn didn’t say anything for a few moments. “We’re just having fun,” he said eventually as his arms tightened around you. “Let’s just enjoy it, yeah? Don’t think about it too much.”
So, you didn’t. You just kept the million and one questions you had to yourself and enjoyed the feeling of falling asleep in the arms of Quinn Hughes.
The fourth time wasn’t even purposeful, it was more like chance—like fate.
The storm had taken you all by surprise. It was by no means a large storm, or particularly concerning. But it left the lake unassailable and most of the roads to the nearest town at risk of being flooded. 
The weather warnings had been going off for the last twenty four hours. You could feel the storm approaching, you could feel it in the sticky, humid air that clung onto your skin like a second layer. The little sundress you had been wearing was doing little to combat the heat, especially with the additional fact that you were pretty sure the AC stopped working a few hours ago and the fans the boys had set up around the house were doing nothing but blowing hot air at you.
What wasn’t surprising was the lack of concern for the storm. It would pass in a few days, and none of the boys seemed particularly on edge at the fact the roads would be closed and they would essentially be trapped in the lakehouse for the next week or so.
Nobody but Quinn.
“I’m heading out to the store to stock up for the storm,” he announced as he entered the living room where the rest of the group had been sprawled over the couches, their attention focused on the tv screen displaying the video game they were currently playing. “Any of your assholes wanna help?”
Silence.
Quinn sighed loudly. “Should have seen that one coming.”
“I’ll join,” you said, not thinking twice as you stood up from your spot on the loveseat you were sharing with Luke. 
The boy’s attention perked up the second you stood up, his brows furrowed together as he watched you saunter towards his brother. “You’re willingly going to the store with Quinn?”
You paused, your brows furrowed together. “Yeah?”
“It’s over an hour away,” Luke said as you continued to stare blankly at you. “He’s going to bore you to death! He doesn't talk!”
Quinn scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Geez, thanks.”
“I’ll survive,” you assured him, ruffling his hair as you walked past him and towards the front door. “Plus, I’ll talk enough for the both of us.” 
You felt like your heart was in your throat as you slipped your shoes on, waiting to hear the sound of Luke following you to the door. You expected to see him running towards you and Quinn, a frown on his lips as he muttered about coming to help because he would feel bad otherwise. 
You tried not to think about how badly you didn’t want him to do that.
“We are leaving now!” 
“Bye!” Jack called out from the living room. 
“You sure you don’t wanna come?”
“Not a chance!” Luke called out this time. 
You could barely bite back your grin as you quickly rushed out the house, making your way to the passenger side of Quinn’s truck. He didn’t say a word as he settled into the driver’s seat, key in the ignition and engine roaring to life as he reversed out the driveway and started the hour commute to the nearest grocery store. 
“Okay, spill.” 
You turned your head to face the boy, your eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion. “Spill what?”
“What twin telepathy, voodoo magic you pulled back there,” Quinn said with a small snort of laughter. “The dude has been attached to your hip since you both were five. There was no way he just chose to stay back.”
“Maybe he’s finally getting sick of me after all these years,” you teased.
“Yeah, and I heard pigs were flying too,” he deadpanned. 
You grinned. “Is there a reason you want to get me alone, Mr Hughes?” 
His lips twitched upwards as he cast you a look. “I think it’s the same reason you were begging me to not stop last night in the—”
“Shut up!” Your cheeks burned, though you couldn’t help but laugh a little when he did too. 
The journey to the store went smoothly. Despite Quinn’s insistence that he didn’t speed, you reached the grocery store in the next town over less than forty minutes after you left. You each took a trolley before ransacking the aisles, filling both carts up to the brim until you had enough to supply you through the zombie apocalypse. 
Quinn swiped his card and you packed the groceries into the back of the truck. 
And then, the rain started. 
“Shit,” Quinn murmured, a frown on his face as he ducked his head down to watch the rain heavily pour down. “They said it wasn’t gonna start up until tonight.” 
“Do you think we’ll be able to get back fine?” You asked, listening to the rain patter against the roof of the truck. “Maybe it will ease up.” 
Quinn raised his brows. “It’s the start of the storm. It’s only gonna get worse.” 
“You scared of a little rain?” You teased, gently nudging your elbow against his. 
“It’s just stupid,” Quinn said with a shrug. “It’s a nuisance.” 
“It’s fun if you let it be,” you retorted. 
Quinn turned to face you in his seat, a look of amusement on his face as he leaned against the console. “Sweetheart, I think you’ve been around Luke too long. The brain cells are starting diminish as we speak—”
“Fuck off,” you laughed with a shake of your head. “See, this is what I mean. You’re the grumpy cat.” 
“And what about me is so grumpy cat right now?” Quinn questioned. 
“You’re a rain buzzkiller,” you stated simply.
Quinn tried to fight the grin growing on his face. “And what would someone who’s not a rain buzzkiller be like?” 
He waited for your reply. He waited for you to come back with some witty retort that would piss him off and thrill him all at once. He waited for you to say something that made him want to roll his eyes and kiss you all at once. 
He waited, but instead he saw your hand reaching for the door handle and his eyes widened in realisation. 
“Baby—” 
But you were already jumping out of the car. 
It was just instinctive for him to jump out and follow. He was soaked in seconds, the rain still heavy and unforgiving and it almost made it difficult to see you, despite only being a few feet in front of him. He opened his mouth, ready to yell at you for being so reckless and to get back into the car, only to stop short when he heard you laugh. 
“Come on, Huggy!” You called out to the boy, your arms extended out to the side as you tilted your head back up to the rain. “Don’t be a buzzkill!”
“You’re insane!” He called back.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” you laughed as you reached out for him. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging!”
“We are going to get sick!” 
“Oh well!” You laughed, palm facing the sky as you grinned at him through the heavy rain. 
Quinn stared at you, a noise of disbelief leaving his own mouth as he took your hand and let you tug him towards you. Your arms seamlessly wrapped around his neck, just as his hands fell to your waist. And as much as he tried, he couldn’t fight the smile that grew on his face as you both began to sway back and forth in the rain.
“Isn’t this fun?” 
Quinn shook his head, not bothering to answer as he dipped his head down to press his lips against yours. Your arms tightened around him, a small moan leaving your lips as he pressed your body against his own. You were both soaked to the bone, clothes clinging onto you but that was the least of your concerns. 
“I’m taking that as a yes,” you murmured against his lips.
“You take it as whatever you want, baby,” he murmured back before he leaned down for another kiss. 
The upcoming storm and truck full of groceries were the last thing on your mind when you were kissing Quinn Hughes in the rain. 
The fifth time hurt like a bitch.
There was no sugar-coating. There was no exaggerations. There were no molehills made into mountains. 
It just fucking hurt and there was no way for you to get around that. 
After the storm had gone and passed, the group were eager to get back out into the world they were cut off from for the week. It had been Trevor’s idea to have a night out in the next town over. To have an excuse to dress up and head to one of the bars, enjoy the vibe of live music and chatty bartenders and friendly locals. 
And that was exactly what you all had done.
You dressed up. You booked the taxis to the bar. You did a round of shots. You made friends with strangers. You danced and laughed and sang along with the band playing on the small, makeshift stage. You ordered fruity cocktails that you missed during your stay at the lakehouse. You were having fun.
And then you saw it.
Logically, you knew you didn’t have any reason to really be pissed. He wasn’t your boyfriend. You weren’t his girlfriend. There had never really been a talk of exclusivity, but you thought that much had been obvious since you had spent most of your time at the lakehouse. There were no labels, no promises, no rules. You knew that. Of course you fucking knew that.
But it didn’t make the sight hurt any less. 
Quinn was leaning against the bar, a wide smile painted on his face as he chatted away to some blonde girl who was all but saddled up next to his side. He was laughing and talking animatedly and just…it hurt. 
It hurt because it reminded you that you were in no place to feel hurt. It hurt because you realised nobody else would understand the bitter feelings bubbling in the pit of your stomach. It hurt because the summer had shown you a new side of Quinn Hughes, and now you had lost him before you had even really had him. 
“Hey, you good?” Trevor questioned as he threw his arm over you, bringing you close to his side. 
“Hm? Yeah, just…think I drank too much,” you said as you dismissively waved your hand. You tore your eyes away from where Quinn stood at the bar and smiled softly up at the blond. “I think I might head back. I’m not feeling it anymore.”
“You sure?” Trevor frowned. “We can get you some water or—”
“I think I just need my bed,” you smiled sheepishly. “It’s fine. I can go by myself.”
“Absolutely not,” Trevor scoffed before his head darted up, his eyes narrowing as he tried to glance around the bar for someone in particular. “Where the fuck is Baby Hughes?” 
“Trevor—” You started, but the boy wasn’t having it.
“Huggy! Have you seen your little brother anywhere?” Trevor called out to the oldest Hughes, and you wanted the world to swallow you whole right there and then.
Quinn looked at you and then Trevor. His eyes glanced at the arm still comfortably wrapped around your shoulder, the way you were tucked into his side. For a moment, you thought he was jealous. 
“No, why?” He asked, his face remaining mostly blank. “Is something wrong?”
“Lady Hughes wants to head back to the lakehouse,” Trevor informed him.
Your nose scrunched up. “Lady Hughes?” 
“You’re a lady and basically a Hughes,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “It works.”
You snorted.
“Are you okay?” Quinn asked, stepping away from the blonde at the bar as his eyes glanced over you.
“Peachy,” you replied with a strained smile that only made his concern grow. “Look, it’s fine. I’m gonna order an uber and head back to the house. I’ll be fine.”
It should have been fine. You messaged Luke that you were heading back early. You had ordered an uber and Trevor insisted that he would wait outside with you until it arrived. It should have been fine. 
Except the boy had the bladder of a squirrel when he was drunk and was running back inside to go to the bathroom, promising he would be quick, and giving the oldest Hughes brother an opening to step outside the bar with you. 
Alone.
“What’s really wrong? You hardly drank anything,” Quinn said, his arms crossed over his chest and his worry evident in his voice. And something about it just pissed you off more. Something about his concern for you just made the sight of the blonde under his arm sting a little more, like salt in the wound.
“I’m just not feeling it, okay?” Your response was snappy, and maybe if you weren’t two shots and a cocktail down, you would have felt bad. 
“Woah,” Quinn scoffed and shook his head. “Sorry for caring.” 
And then the word vomit really started. “Do you really care?” 
The defenceman frowned. “What?” 
“Do you really care, Quinn? Because it didn’t look like you cared about much inside there other than the blonde you have been chatting up all night,” you commented coldly.
Quinn stared at you in disbelief. “Is this what this is about? You’re going back to the house because you’re jealous I’m not paying attention to you all night?”
You scoffed. “Oh wow.” 
“Am I wrong?” He snapped back at you.
“Yes! Deeply so,” you gritted through clenched teeth, and you hated the way your eyes watered with tears of frustration. You didn’t want to cry, and certainly not in front of him. “I just thought—”
“You thought what?” Quinn questioned, his hands now resting on his hips.
“I thought what we had was worth a little more,” you eventually spat out, with every ounce of self-control working to keep your voice from sounding too shaky. “That maybe you’d have a little more decency than to just flirt with some girl right in front of me.”
“We aren’t dating,” was his only response. 
“Yeah, I know,” you replied bitterly as the car you ordered pulled up beside you. You reached for the handle, already hating yourself a little more when you felt a tear run down your cheek. “I just made the mistake of thinking you were a decent fucking human though.”
He called out your name but you didn’t give him a chance to respond as you slid into the backseat of the uber car, slamming the car door shut and letting the tears fall as the driver pulled away from the sidewalk where Quinn still stood.
The one time you two acknowledged the mess between you was the start of a new chapter in your life, the start of Quinn Hughes playing a predominant and recurring role for the first time ever.
It was the following day after the night at the bar. The boys had returned somewhere after three in the morning, after the bar had presumably closed and they had been kicked out. You heard them coming in, heard their drunken giggles and horribly loud hushed voices. But you didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay in bed and listen as they all scrambled off to their own rooms.
Your sleep had been shit. Your thoughts had been running wild. And by the time the first rays of light were starting to peek through your curtains, you dragged yourself out of bed and downstairs to the kitchen. You found the biggest mug you could find, filled it to the brim with coffee and made your way to the pier outside. 
It had been quiet, serene even. The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, painting the sky in different shades of orange, pink and blue. The birds were chirping, the wind was breezing in the early morning chill and it should have been perfect. 
But it wasn’t. 
It shouldn’t have surprised you that he followed you out to the pier. Quinn Hughes seemed to have a nab for knowing when you wanted to break the serenity and silence of a moment. 
You didn’t say a word to him, you didn’t even turn to look at him as he settled in the spot next to you and stared at calm water in front of you. You stayed locked in the silence, letting the sounds of branches rustling and distant boat motors accompany the quietness between you. 
It made you want to scream.
And then, he spoke. 
“Nothing happened between me and the blonde.” 
You didn’t say anything, but it seemed like Quinn wasn’t waiting to hear your response. Instead, he continued talking. He sounded frazzled, like the words were pouring out of his mouth and he couldn’t stop them.
“It wasn’t—” he paused, shaking his head. “It couldn’t even be like that even if I wanted it to. You asked if I cared yesterday, but do you wanna know the truth?” 
You remained silent. 
“The truth is that ever since the night at the fire pit, you’ve been stuck in my head. You’ve been stuck in my head and no matter what I do, I can’t fucking seem to make it stop.” He let out a dry, humourless laugh. “You’re my baby brother’s best friend. I shouldn’t be fucking thinking about you like that.”
Quinn shook his head. “But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop watching you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And then I kissed you, and I knew I was fucked. Absolutely fucked because now I wanted the one thing I shouldn’t be allowed to have, so I fucking panicked and told you it was nothing because if I told you, then maybe I could trick myself too.” 
You finally turned your head to look at the boy, the conflict and doubts clear in your eyes but Quinn seemed to have a knack at reading you better than most people. 
“Baby, I couldn’t stop caring about you even if I tried,” he whispered, his voice cracking a little as he flashed you a sad smile. “We aren’t dating. We never were. But maybe it just scared me how much I…wouldn’t mind if we were, or we had, or—” He shook his head. “I was a dickhead yesterday and I’m sorry.”
“You were,” you said and something in his chest eased from just hearing your voice. “But I was a bit of a brat too. I should have—”
“We were both idiots,” Quinn murmured before laughing softly. “Like, really fucking dumb. But I know I care about you. And not just in a ‘we are sleeping together’ kind of way. I care about you more than that.” 
You wanted to say you felt the same way. You wanted to tell him the way your stomach flipped whenever he touched you. You wanted to tell him the way your heart stuttered when he smiled at you. You wanted to tell him you were addicted to his touch and obsessed with his kisses. 
But all that came out was, “what about Luke?”
Quinn’s brows furrowed together slightly in thought. “We don’t have to tell him. Not yet, at least.” He said, hesitating for a short moment before he extended his hand out to you, palm facing the sky. “How about we just try us for a little bit?”
Your lips twitched upwards. “And what is us?” 
“Whatever you want it to be,” he assured you. “Call me whatever you want, baby. Your boyfriend, your boy toy, your sugar daddy—” He laughed when you playfully shoved him. “I mean it.” 
“Boyfriend has a nice ring to it,” you admitted in a shy voice, your eyes on the water below your feet.
Quinn grinned. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you grinned back as you finally turned to look at him. You glanced down at his hand before taking it, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing softly. “I want to try us.”
“Then we’ll try us,” he murmured before leaning forward to capture your lips against his. 
And somewhere, deep down inside you, you knew it was wrong to keep it hidden from Luke. He was your best friend. He was your person. He was Quinn’s brother. He deserved to know. 
But maybe you also deserved to keep a secret or two from Luke. Maybe he didn’t have to know every single detail about your life. Maybe you deserved to have some fun.
Maybe you deserved to give Quinn Hughes a standing chance, just you and him and whatever the fuck ‘us’ would lead to.
.
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goldenwilliamson · 5 months
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Could you do one with leah x reader where reader is a new signing and she catches Leah's attention and Leah, all cocky, asks her out repeatedly, but the reader was warned about Leah's fuckgirl fame and always turns her down, but obviously ends up falling for Leah in the end, pure fluff please ;)
Pd: you write soo goooodd
bad idea right? | leah williamson
pairing: leah williamson x reader
a/n: thanks for the ask!! i had fun with this one. reader is australian obviously inspired by kyra's signing after the world cup, but with a very different vibe to KCC's annoying little sister energy hahaha. also this is an ideal world where ACL's don't exist and leah was in training at the start of this season.
summary: reader signs at arsenal and leah has her sights set on her, but reader tries her best not to let herself fall for leah.
word count: 2.9k (got a little carried away with this, but i loved it)
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When you got your call up for the World Cup, you had expected that some clubs might take an interest in you, along with all the other younger Australian players who hadn’t yet gotten the chance to play in such a large tournament. What you didn’t expect however was that the club you grew up supporting would be making a deadline day signing for you. When you heard that Arsenal were interested after the World Cup, it was just the cherry on top of what was the most surreal experience of your footballing career so far. Obviously with Steph Catley and Caitlin Foord already being at the club, you had felt entirely comfortable about making the transfer. You had already been playing in the WSL for a few years, but you’d always told yourself that if Arsenal ever came knocking, you would go there without a doubt. 
Being such a fan of the club and playing against Arsenal in the past, you already had preconceptions about many of the girls. Before you had your first training, Steph and Caitlin had come over to your new flat to help you settle in and put together some furniture, and you took it as an opportunity to get all your final questions out of the way. You had already spoken to them endlessly about the culture of the club for the players, but you hadn’t spoken too much about the other girls. All that they had told you was that you would fit in well with the team, and that was good enough for you at the time. 
But now that your time for actually joining the team was getting very close, you decided you wanted to learn more about some of the girls you would be spending the majority of your time with for the foreseeable future.
‘What’s Kim like as a captain?’ You asked first, and both Steph and Caitlin sung her praises while explaining that underneath her hard front is a big softie who wants the best for everyone. 
‘I’m not going to lie, I’m nervous about not clicking with anyone,’ you said next. 
‘I can’t imagine you ever not getting along with anyone,’ Steph said, ‘You hit it off with everyone you’ve ever met.’
‘True, I reckon you and Leah will get along well but,’ Caitlin adds. 
‘Really?’ Your voice is higher when you say this, a little surprised. 
‘Oh yeah, she’s going to love you. She’s already spoken to me about how she’s excited you’ve signed,’ Steph says and you feel very flattered. Leah is a player you’ve admired for years, and a defender you’ve dreaded coming up against in games. Even though you’ve played against her, you wouldn’t expect her to have noticed you, let alone be excited about you joining the team which she cares so much about. 
‘What’s she like?’ You ask, genuinely curious. 
‘She’s somehow managed the perfect balance of being super fun and lighthearted, but also stern and serious,’ Steph says. 
‘Is she single?’ You find your mouth moving before your brain has the chance to tell you not to say that. Both Steph and Caitlin laugh at your forwardness, but they don’t seem all that surprised. 
‘Leah is undateable, she meets a lot of girls, but they never stick around for long,’ Caitlin says truthfully, and for a moment you feel a bit of disappointment.
‘Because she’s not a good person?’ You ask, unsure about why no girls would want anything with her. In your eyes she’s a catch. 
‘No,’ Steph says quickly, ‘She’s an amazing person, she just doesn’t want them to stick around for long, it’s always more of a one night thing for her.’
This surprises you, and it does make you see her a little differently. In the media she seems very mature, being the England captain and all. You can’t really imagine her going out, meeting girls, and having one night stands, but then you remember you really don’t know the girl at all.
A few days later you arrive in London Colney for your first training session of pre-season, carpooling with Caitlin and Katie. You’d already met Katie a few times now, which made your arrival feel a bit smoother. You don’t take it for granted having Steph and Caitlin around to welcome you and make sure you’re connecting with the other girls. 
Before you go into the first meeting of the season with Jonas, you get to meet all the other girls. While someone might find this overwhelming, you are unbelievably excited to finally be introducing yourself and meeting all these players you respected so much. 
Everyone greets you warmly with a hug and kind welcoming words. When you approach Leah she flashes you her fantastic smile and you can’t help but mirror her expression. You keep in mind but that she is used to being able to charm girls, and you try not to fall victim to it. 
‘Hello, mate. I’m Leah,’ she says in her relaxed voice, giving you a hug hello. 
‘Hey, good to meet you,’ you say.
‘Likewise. I’m so glad you’ve signed, you’re going to be a great addition to the team,’ she says and you thank her graciously, feeling good knowing you have a little bit of support behind you, from Leah Williamson of all people. 
From your first meeting, you can see what everyone else sees in her. She’s a beautiful girl, there’s absolutely no denying that, and she carries a confidence that radiates off of her. It’s both incredibly attractive and intimidating at the same time. You know immediately you can’t let yourself go down the rabbit hole of developing a crush on her, because you know all too well that it would consume you completely. So for the first few weeks at the club you don’t spend too much time with Leah. You don’t avoid her, because you don’t want to be rude, but you don’t let yourself go as deep as you normally would want to. Usually when you find yourself around someone attractive you’re asking questions, trying to get to know them. You decided the less you knew about Leah the better. 
You didn’t realise that Leah had noticed the way you hadn’t been giving her as much time and attention as you’d given some of the other girls, and the way that you had bruised her ego. One day Leah and Jen were peddling on the exercise bikes in the gym next to each other while you ran on the treadmill on the other side of the room. Leah watched you like a hawk as you took your long, easy strides. 
‘She’s great isn’t she?’ Jen said, following Leah’s line of vision.
‘Oh god yeah, she’s gonna be our secret weapon going into this season,’ Leah says without a beat. She’s been watching you every day, witnessing how well you’ve managed to establish yourself within the team already, earning respect from all the players. She would be very surprised if Jonas didn’t start you in the upcoming games, because you're the perfect number 9 that the club has been needing. 
‘Lovely girl too,’ Jen observes and Leah nods.
‘I haven’t gotten to know her that well, I don’t think she’s too interested in me,’ Leah says, and even though she tries to hide her contempt, Jen reads her like a book.
‘Finally someone who’s not interested in you, whatever will you do?’ The naturally sarcastic Scot makes fun of Leah’s obvious dissatisfaction with her ability to have you in the palm of her hand. 
‘Shut up,’ Leah pushes her shoulder. 
‘You’re seriously crushing on her aren’t you?’ Jen says.
‘I wouldn’t call it a crush,’ Leah scoffs. She would never admit to having a crush on someone, it’s not in her nature at all. When it comes to dating she has always preferred to be detached and aloof. 
‘What would you say then?’ Jen asks.
‘I guess you could say I’m intrigued by her,’ Leah says, immediately cringing at the way it sounds coming out of her mouth.
‘Alright stalker, don’t go following her home now or anything,’ Jen says, unable to contain her laughter seeing Leah in this new position. As Jen makes this comment you step of the treadmill and pull off your headphones and Leah quickly shushes Jen. 
‘How was the run, Y/N?’ Jen calls out to you from across the room, and you smile, striding in the direction of her and Leah as they continue to peddle. 
‘Yeah not too bad,’ you nod, ‘How are the bikes treating you guys?’ 
‘I think I zoned out watching you running over there,’ Leah says, and you don’t know whether or not to interpret it as a flirty or not.
You laugh lightly and shake your head, ‘Glad I could be of service.’ 
‘You do look proper graceful for someone doing sprints,’ Jen says.
‘Well now I know who to come to when I need a pick me up, thanks girls,’ you look at them both, your ego boosted. You had no clue how you looked running on the treadmill, but you couldn’t have imagine it was anything impressive, or graceful. You tell the girls you’ll leave them to it as you turn to walk out of the gym, thinking over Leah’s little comment for quite some time. 
A few days later you’re invited round to Beth and Viv’s place for a little dinner. It’s not a huge group there, just yourself, Steph, Caitlin, Leah, Jen, and Kim Little. Despite being one of the younger girls in the squad at 24, you’ve found yourself feeling most comfortable around the girls a little older than you like Jen and Beth. Even Viv who was notoriously introverted had made an effort to get to know you. 
The night is lovelier than you could have expected, chatting with all the girls with ease, like you’ve known them all as long as you’ve known Steph and Caitlin. At one point you decide to go into the kitchen to refill the water jug, and when you’re standing over the sink, Leah slips into the space with you. 
‘What are you after?’ You ask casually.
‘You,’ Leah says and you turn around to look at her with a confused look on your face.
She’s leaning against the kitchen bench, eyeing you confidently, but you’re determined not to let her work her ways on you. 
‘Whatever for?’ You ask innocently, turning back to watch as the water fills the bottle in your hand. 
‘Why’ve you been avoiding me?’ Leah says as you flick the tap off. To buy some time you rest the bottle on the bench and grab a tea towel, wiping off the water that spill down the sides of the bottle.
‘I didn’t realise I had been,’ you shake your head, not looking at her as you lie through your teeth. 
‘Maybe it’s in my head then,’ Leah shrugs.
‘Maybe, but I’m sorry if I haven’t been giving you enough attention,’ you say sarcastically, knowing that your words would cut deep for a girl who usually has her ways with girls. 
‘That’s alright, why don’t I just take you out for dinner, that way I’ll have you all to myself,’ Leah suggests and you scoff.
‘Sorry, as fun as this is, it’s not really me Leah. I’m not interested in being another notch on your bed post,’ you say, and while you might feel rude saying this to anyone else, you feel like you could chip away at Leah’s ego all night and she would remain confident as ever. 
Leah sighs with a smile on her face, ‘Worth a try,’ she says and you two walk back to the table, acting like nothing ever happened. Jen Beattie is the only one who catches the smirk on your face and the ever so slightly defeated look on Leah’s. 
She tries again a couple of days later after training, asking what your plans were for the night.
‘Going home,’ you say, stating the very obvious fact after a long and tiring training session. 
‘Want some company?’ Leah asks. While you would’ve said yes to company, feeling like anyone being around was what you needed to settle into your new home, you knew you couldn’t say yes to Leah.
‘Uh, not tonight, I’m going to go home and fall into bed,’ you say.
‘Tomorrow then?’ Leah offers and you shake your head at her persistence. 
‘You’re relentless,’ you say, smiling at the cocky look on Leah’s face. Slowly it’s getting the better of you. 
‘I prefer the term driven,’ she says and you laugh. 
‘Don’t let me stop you, it’s doing wonders for my confidence,’ you say.
‘Oh don’t worry, I won’t,’ Leah assures you as you part ways walking towards your cars. You ignore her once again, but of course she occupies your thoughts the whole drive home, and the rest of the night. 
There is even a moment after you eat your dinner that you consider asking her to come over, knowing exactly what would happen if she did. You groan out loud, realising that she had already won this battle. That’s why the next time she tries her luck, you fold. 
It was the perfect setting, all the Arsenal girls and the Matildas that lived around London were out at a bar celebrating Caitlin’s birthday. Leah was of course locked in on your every move, and you knew it. Every time you glanced in her direction, she was already looking at you. It was driving you crazy, making you feel all hot and bothered. As if dancing was the cure for your overwhelming feelings, you remained among the girls throwing their hair and arms around to the music. 
A classic ABBA song comes on and Leah makes her way into the people moving on the dance floor, subtly making her way towards you. It’s unsurprising when you feel her hands on your hips, you’d been waiting for it at this point. The music is loud in your ears, drowning out any remaining inhibitions. You turned to face Leah with a look of defeat, as if you were forfeiting to her. You let your arms fall around her neck as she stabilises herself with her hands on your hips. She leans in close to speak directly into your ear and you can feel her breath on the top of your neck, sending a small shiver up your spine.
‘You’ve been driving me nuts,’ she says, giggling slightly with her admission. 
You lean into her now, planting a tantalising, gentle kiss on her neck before murmuring, 'I still don’t want to be just another notch on your bed post.’
Leah pulls back and looks at you with a face that tells you that you can believe her when she shakes her head, ‘This isn’t about that, I just want to know you.’ 
‘Do you say that to all the girls?’ You ask, still harbouring some slight concerns about Leah’s notoriety when it comes to her sexual partners.
‘I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time,’ she says. Even though you really don’t know her all too well, you know her words are genuine, and you know that you feel the exact same way. There was no denying the chemistry between you both, and the similarity in your personalities. You remember the way Caitlin and Steph had predicted you two would get along, and you know it’s true now.
‘Me neither,’ you tell her honestly, and you can see from the grin on her face that it was exactly what she wanted to hear. 
‘How about we get out of here and go find some food,’ Leah suggests and you nod eagerly, dying to step out into the fresh air with her to speak freely without trying to talk over the music. 
‘Great idea,’ you say. With that you and Leah say your goodbyes, not feeling too guilty about leaving as it was nearing midnight already at this stage. When you step out into the night it feels like you’re back in the real world, and your feelings about Leah were still very much there. 
She takes your hand in hers and leads you up the street and the two of you walk until you find some fried food to sink your teeth into. You talk the night away and get to know Leah behind the persona she has created. This Leah is endlessly caring, a listener, a deep thinker, incredibly witty, and much more vulnerable.
That night you two end up back at your North London flat to save her the trip out to her house in St Albans. To your surprise, you don’t sleep together, but you’re pleased with that. Part of you was still waiting to see what Leah’s intentions were, and she proved that she really did just want to spend some time with you. You were happy to give her your attention now.
 ’You’re nothing like how I expected,’ you admit to her as you lay face to face in your bed, your legs stacked on top of each other. 
‘Better or worse?’ Leah asks, smirking at you in the darkness of your room.
‘Better,’ you say with a smile, leaning in to finally kiss her properly. It’s gentle, but there is clear passion behind it. You hum, satisfied as you pull away, ‘Definitely better’.
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bone-and-butterflies · 10 months
Text
How to hide plot twists from both your readers and your characters in a way that is not frustrating or annoying.
So I was watching a book review for a book that I liked but both loved and hated some of the plot twists. Of course this got me thinking about plot twists and why they work for both readers and the characters that are falling for these plot twists.
Readers
The key is to control the information that your readers have. Your readers aren't going to consider an option unless (1) that twist is really common for your genre and that reader has read that genre a lot and will therefore be expecting it or (2) you have very obviously given them the specific information nessesary to unintentionally figure out the twist before the characters.
Why does this information stand out, you may be wondering. It is because there is nothing else going on to distract away from a piece of information that can seem meaningless with the right context.
Most of the time, if you're not writing a very specific plot line with a very specific genre, your reader isn't going to immediately know where the plot is going so they may not be looking out for the information relevant to a later plot twist, so as long as you justify an informational choice that explains a later plot twist in a way that covers a variety of basis, they're probably not going to pick up on the one piece you left out, aka what is going to make this twist fun.
This piece of information should be something small and unassuming. It can be magical, but if you're writing fantasy that magic has to be hidden really really well. I find that a plot twist works the best when the piece of information that is missing is something you wouldn't really think about, like the reason a prince was able to infiltrate a prison and hide his identity was because he had his cousin standing in for him and we don't know that this cousin existed and knew the limits of that world's magic (this is actually a plot twist that fooled me btw despite how obvious at sounds now).
A good plot twist that fools the reader relies on twisting the information that the reader has and therefore twisting how they think the story will go.
Midway sidenote: not every plot twist needs to exist to fool both the reader and the character, sometimes it is really fun to watch a character fail because of something inherent to that character.
Characters
Remember how I said sometimes it's really fun to watch a character fail. That only works sometimes.
It is more annoying to figure out a plot twist that is really obvious and then have the character miss it because the author said so.
So how does a writer pull this off?
Be intentional. Have an idea in mind of when you want the reader to figure it out and ask your beta readers when they figured out your plot twists to control that as much as you can.
Your character does not know which genre they're in, so you have to both get inside the character's head and take the reader along with you so they understand why this character is making these poor choices and missing the most obvious villain in the room.
Why would a character miss a plot twist?
They are distracted or delusional. Characters have goals and they may ignore their better judgments to achieve these goals based on their personality. Put more emphasis on your character's motives to hide information that may make plot twists more obvious. Also, your characters may use information about their world to explain their motives and this information may also be vital to understanding a later plot twist
The average person does not go around thinking everybody around them is out to get them especially if those people seem incapable of that through the pov character's ego or the other character's demeanor. If your character has known somebody for a really long time or knows a piece of information that is vital to the worldview they're probably not going to immediately discard it. Fun fact: in the real world, when people have their views disputed, even with very good evidence, it can make them more likely to hold on to that old belief.
Expectation of harm. Different characters have different experiences with shape how bad they think things can get. For example, if a character has never experienced something, they may not know what can lead to that thing. (FYI older characters are more likely to know more things so be careful with this one.)
The Twist
For a twist to work, it must make sense with both real world and in world knowledge as well as common sense, so keep this in mind as you plan.
Conclusion
This isn't comprehensive because good plot twists require a lot of information to make them work and that's makes them very specific. While I would love to explain why different plot twists work, part of them working is them fooling you and hindsight bias is kind of a thing.
Keep writing. If a plot twist just isn't working either scrap it or let it sit until you have the information to build reasons why it should work.
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loaksbitch · 1 year
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ok this is based on request, but imagine jake sully fucking you with pure hated cause your existence alone fucking irritates him yet he can’t keep his hand off of you yes? HECK YES
warning(s) – enemies with benefits, angry sex, mean jake, clit stimulation, overstimulation, cervix fucking, dumbfication, owning kink (if that’s a thing), cussing, orgasm denial, choking, slight hair pulling, cum stuffing, reader is a bratty minx too.
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jake was sat across the hut, reshaping his arrow tip to hunt for later and very much annoyed on how youre in front of him, chewing on your thumbnail so fucking loud, on eywa you’re was so bitchy.
for the past half hours he was trying so hard to block out the chewing sound yet nothing helped, especially with your very aware self doing that purposely.
“can you stop doing that?” jake huffs, doing his best to control his growing anger and hatred.
“what?” you say with an attitude, a brow arched and giving him a stare.
you and you’re fucking attitude. jake licks his lips, tongue poking through his cheek. “that, stop chewing loud you’re distracting me.” he says, pointing to where his reshaped arrows are.
you click your tongue, nodding your head to the door. “if you’re disturbed, the door is that way.” your words are pushing him on edge, wanting to rip you and do things, you on other hand was also feeling the same and you want him away from your sight.
“this place is not yours.” he spat, tone showing a tint of anger. you’re hitting jackpot. “and it’s not yours.” you bite back.
a deep growl leaves his chest, jake frowning as he starts to speed his knife against the wooden arrow. he decides to ignore you, thinking it’s the best to steam down his anger, fuck he really hates you it’s making his cock twitch.
you’re not done with him, especially after yesterday night when he literally scared the cute na’vi male who was talking to you away. this bitch deserves to go crazy with your existence.
“slow down.” you say, voice high and pushing him to the edge. “i swear to God, y/n if you don’t shut the fu—“ you dare to cut him off, you fucking cut him off and his nostrils flared.
“you might not want to cut those fingers, do you?” you tease, empathizing with the fact he has five fingers and is different from the na’vi’s.
he blinks, eyes twitching and triggered before he snaps his head to yours.
“i’m sick of your bitchy self today.” he tries to humble you but you find ways to slap his face with your fiery mouth. “and i'm sick of your bitchy self every day.” you say and jake loudly hissed, amber eyes strictly glaring at you.
“fuck you.” he grumbles
“fuck you.” you hiss back.
done with his shit, you decide to leave and get on your feet. he smirks, lips opening to get on your nerves. “leaving already?” you don’t reply, only one plan in your mind. you’re gonna destroy this man.
intentionally, you walk over to where reshaped and non shaped separated arrows are and nudge your leg to them. you feel them tumble, falling and mixing together. “oops.” you giggle,
jakes’ smirk drops, fading so quickly, this was the last string of patience he had. he lets a terrific chuckle out and your body shivers, maybe you’ve taken it too far.
“you little bitch.” he was now on his feet, walking to you and grabbing you by your hair. you two always ended up in a fight, him not caring if you're a female or you not caring if he was male. you just go for it, punching him when he dared to touch your hair.
“the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you turn to him, face red with anger as well. you’ve always hated when someone had you by your hair. you poke on his chest, pushing him while you knew this drives him insane with maddens cause he hates getting pushed too.
“don’t. push. me.”
both of your eyes were on fire and burning holes to each other’s skull. you swallow nervously yet hold your ground and not let him see how he was intimidating you.
“don’t be an asshat and you won’t be pushed.” you said quietly.
“fuck you.” he says, voice to deep.
“fuck you.” you’re on your tiptoes now, chin raised high to show you’re not scared or bottoming out.
without any warnings his lips were on yours, hot and wet as he takes your lips and devour you. anger was still in him but the lust is winning. both of you are fighting until he was biting on your lips and making you involuntarily moan.
it was his chance, tongue being shoved inside your mouth and being tied. he moans to the kiss. jake suddenly pulls you closer and you whine, hands skimming to his chest and push him away.
he licks his lips, eyes lingering on your lips before lifting to see your eyes. you wipe your lips with your arm, spitting on the floor with disgust. oh trust me, you were so fucking turned on but had to pretend.
“don’t wipe my kiss off your lips.” he demands and you scoff, wiping more and watch his eyes squint, a chuckle leaving him.
“fine then, i’ll mark you all over your body and see if you can wipe it.” he spits and you’re being scooped to his shoulder.
you don’t fight cause you know you want this, but at the same time you’re nervous.
before you know it, you’re being thrown to the hammock, jake crawling on top of you and you almost moan at the sight. “what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not letting him have a chance to know you’re wanting him right now.
“i think your sexy ass knows exactly what i’m doing.” your inside twists, pussy pulsing at his words. he doesn’t miss how your legs close themselves and he nods, smirking. “that turns you, doesn't it?” you look away when he holds onto your knees and forces them open.
“fuck you.” you say again and this time jake grins. “please do.” he begs this time.
he was between your legs, your loincloth getting ripped away and him untying his gently. he’s so passive aggressive. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming my name only.” he leans to nudge on your cheek with his nose.
“fuck off, i’m not doing–“ jake was again kissing you, rough and angry that almost breaks your skin. your legs are roughly pushed wider. “i fucking hate you.” he reminds you and anger bubbles in you, “i fucking hate you too–hngh..!” you struggle to answer when pleasure strikes you as jake cups your heat.
“you’re so fucking wet.” your eyes almost roll up to your head, his husky voice being too much. jake was admiring the way he bruised your blue skin when he was marking your neck.
jake trails hot wet kisses down your cleavage and to your breast. you drew a deep breath between your teeth when he took your nipple. jake locked his eyes with yours when he tugged on your nipple, letting it roll between his teeth. the sharpness of his teeth scraping on your nipple and making you shudder.
he leaned back, getting on his knees and glaring at you as he told you how he is proud with the effect he had on you with his eyes. your temper was flaring.
you pull your legs to your chest and try to close them but jake was fast. “uh-uh.” he grips onto your ankle and yanks your legs back open. you grit your teeth, fighting him and his masculine ass to get off of you.
“baby.” he sternly calls and you freeze, “the fuck did you just call me?” you slap his hand away from you when he tries to reach and brush your messy hair from your forehead. “i ain’t your baby.” you growl.
“fine, you want it the hard way?” he spits. “i’ll fuck you then.”
you’re getting pushed back and pinned to the hammock. “fucking stay like that or else…” he threats and you scoff. “no, you don’t tell me what to you, i’m not yours to obey around.”
“you’re not mine?” he arched his brow and you're silent, looking away and staring at the roof until hands are firm, grip on your jaw turns you and makes you meet his gaze. “you’re not mine?” of course at the end of the day you’re his.
“yes, you don’t own me.” every time his nostrils flared, you were very happy because he was getting upset. “we will see about that.” and then he was leaning down to capture your other breast that didn’t get attention.
you were fast to throw your head back, moaning when you felt him lightly bite on your bud and make you squirm under him. you didn’t realize you were pushing his head away from your chest until jake was grabbing your wrist and throwing it away.
right then you arch your back for him to suck on your nipple more he stops and you whine. “you’re not mine huh? you sure you don’t want to take that back?” you huff, eyes telling him you’re not changing your mind.
“yeah,” you spit, watching him grin, “is that so?” he says.
“yes, because you’re— argh!” you groan when his other hand roughly parts your fold and sinks in until his knuckle is a barrier. jake was so rough when he fingers you, your cunt squeezing him deliciously.
your eyes widen when you catch his cock jump and point straight to the roof, precum leaking from the angry tip of his dick. he can imagine how warm and tight you are.
“relax.” he curls his finger inside you, thumb flicking your clit. “relax for me.” he hates you yet look at him going all ‘relax for me’ on you.
“you’re so pathetic, so fucking dumb on my fingers.” he pulls his two fingers out before shoving them in you.
“who am i?” he asks and your answer causes him to curl his fingers inside you. “you’re an asshole!” you mweled. “asshole? i’m an asshole?” jake pinches on your thigh when you try to close them on his hand.
“c’mon pretty, i know you’re better than that. who am i?”
you’re silent, only soft breath leaving you. jake can feel how you pulse on his fingers, telling him you’re about to come. “what the–“ your eyes shoot open when you feel jake pull his hands away from you.
“open your legs wider, be fast.” for once you do as you’re told and jake hums, pleased.
“you’re not gonna get that far until you say you’re mine.” he was very serious and you gulped. you’re spread open and jake closes his eyes when the scent of your leaking slick hits his nose.
you smell so tempting and delicious.
your gaze follows him when he settles between your legs. “gonna fuck some sense into you now.” you throbbed when you said that, feeling your wetness leaking out of you fast and clenching on nothing but air.
jake held both of your legs, pushing them up to your chest and folding you half. it was his turn to squat, watching your exposed and pink folds shining as his angry tip circles on the slit.
“please,” you catch yourself slipping, pride somehow demolished. jake was surprised, “what? can’t hear you.” he gives you an attitude.
you don’t fight back, just wanting to be filled with his dick. “please i need you inside me.” he wasn’t up for teasing now. he needed you as much as you needed him. “fuuuck.” he moans, watching your face attentively when your jaw hungs open.
pain and pleasure hit you, he was not giving you any time to get accustomed to his length. jake thrusts into you, angry and rough.
“you’re mine?” he asks, taking advantage of your hazy mind but you’re no near to being hazy. “fuck off.” you hiss when he pushes your leg to your chest more, almost blocking your lungs from your stretching.
“hm, i’m asking you in a minute and i’ll need you to get it right yeah?” you only moan. jake pressed his body to your folded leg, grabbing your hips and titling your pelvis. you scream when he hits the right spot.
hands sought to his broad shoulders and pushed him when he ruined your tight cunt, it was painful when he started to slip in more. jake can’t help but get shocked when he fucks you open. his cock was literally in your cervix.
“it hurts.” you whine but jake only shushes you. hands wiping on the tears that appear on your eyes. “shh, you’re okay. i’m just so deep, f-fuck don’t do that.” he grips on your hips when you tighten on him. your warm breath hits his lips on how close he is and pressing himself on you.
hands that were wiping your tears slides to hold onto your wrists that keep pushing him away and moving them away from him. “who am i, baby?” you’re now completely gone, his dick controlling your brain and body, even your breath when he ruts to you.
tears are leaking from your eyes as he keeps thrusting into you, abusing your walls and bruising them. you moan and cry louder, nothing making sense with the pleasure and pain you’re feeling.
your breath shortens when jake wraps his large hand on your throat, oh mother eyw—
“who am i?” his tone changes on the last word and you scream? giving in easily. “jake! jake sully!” you cry out, orgasm bubbling in you, you want it out of you, the growing pressure. you want jake to rip it out of you.
“okay, that’s it.” he pats your temple, “ seems like ’m knocking some sense in you.”
“now,” he kisses your forehead, hate still bubbling in him. “you’re mine, yeah?” you wanted to shake your head. wanted to punch him. wanted to…
“c’mon, say it and i’ll give you what you need.”
“i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours.” the moment you said it, jake felt something in him burn with ego. you’re his, you gave yourself to him. no going back now.
“good fucking girl.” he huffs, pulling out of you and causing you to cry, like seriously cry loud and he spreads your leg apart, hands wrapping on your waist before he helps you get on him.
your ass sets against his strong thighs and you moan when he easily slipped inside you.
“JAKE!” you yell when he pushes you down, bottoming out before grazing on your earlobe. “you’re mine, you get it? a part of you is mine and i own you.” you hate how his words made your insides clench.
tears are shed, heart in pain with no reason. “i hate you.” you tell him and he smiles, pulling you close to him and hugging you as he fucks himself in you. “i hate you too.” jake chuckles when you hide yourself on his chest.
“i’m gonna cum…” you whine, feeling the man holding you close. “i got you, i’m here.” at this point the hate is confusing because jake doesn’t know what he is feeling any more.
you let go, trusting the man you hate the most and coming. he was soon taking your step, manly whining and hiding himself to the crook of your neck. “shit.” he moans, loading himself in you.
he suddenly feels you pushing him away and hips buckling causing him to slip out of you. he was about to ask what was wrong until glaring at him with pure rage.
“this never happened.” you bark and watch him confused and try to understand. “what?” he innocently asks and you point at him then, down to his semi-hard cock. “this, me and you. we never did it.”
right then it hits him, jake gets that you don’t want this to get out of you two, it was like a dirty secret and jake felt annoyed. “you don’t want no one to know?” you’re quick to nod. “yes.” as much as he wants to show you off.
if you want this then he got you, he was gonna bite his tongue and sit back and you watch him hesitate before nodding.
“good.” you state and move from him to fetch on your loincloth. he only stares at you, the tension you both had a while ago long gone and his amber eyes following you as the mean man he was before disappeared. you don’t even spare him a look as you dress and leave the hut.
too confused and trying to process what just happened.
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like + reblog is very appreciated but not pressured! i love each and everyone of you sm!
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ncteez · 1 year
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the bore next door (j.ww)
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Jeon Wonwoo is not dull, nor is he the clean and polite neighbor that your mother assumed he was when she set you up on this awful date. 
or the one where wonwoo takes you home on the first date and renders you unable to walk, hoping to god that you don’t expose him to your parents.
ao3 | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do. 
WORDCOUNT― 8.8k
PAIRING― wonwoo x afab reader
CONTENT― strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, reader is a teacher but this is not a school setting, mocking and making fun, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky wonwoo, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed
WARNINGS― small mention of other teachers cheating on their spouses (very tiny mention), the resistance of pressure to fall in love/have children
NOTE― I repurposed an old wip for this because putting this mf in the main role hit harder than it should have. that being said, don’t expect me to write men often like this, i just thought it would be neat to make him take control. this is not proof read.
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― dom(ish) wonwoo, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, wonwoo tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.
~
23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th street to 35th street, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?
           In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but never truly settling on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable. You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday.
           Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?
           Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not be you. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own. 
           23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, and he even seems to have a dog that he walks at the same time three times a day. 
           She doesn’t mention what he looks like, and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he is tall, handsome, and has dark hair.
           For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 
           What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street. A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet their daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.
“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”
           You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.
“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 
“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely was. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.
           The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place. 
“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”
“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Wonwoo, by the way.”
           You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.
“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Wonwoo says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 
           Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Wonwoo right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 
“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”
“Oh?” Wonwoo quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 
           You shrug. “Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”
“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”
“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 
           Wonwoo watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.
“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”
           You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.
“Okay then, Wonwoo—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”
           In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 
“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 
           Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Wonwoo must make good money. 
“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 
“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade English teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way. 
           Wonwoo smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 
“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.
“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Wonwoo, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.
           He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Wonwoo doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.
“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”
           Ah. He’s one of those guys. 
“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 
“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”
“God, you are such a bore.” 
           Wonwoo realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.
“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 
“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”
           Wonwoo looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 
“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 
           He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 
“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 
           He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before. It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.
“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 
“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 
“Admitting I’m interested in you, I guess?” He says it with so much confidence that you barely notice the ‘I guess’ at the end of his sentence. It surprises you a little bit, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Wonwoo..
“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 
           Wonwoo prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.
“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just pretend this is a tinder date or something?”
           You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 
“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 
“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”
           Wonwoo pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.
“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.
           It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 
“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”
           He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to just drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”
“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”
           Wonwoo kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”
“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”
           Wonwoo waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”
“Wonwoo—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”
           His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 
“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 
           Offense taken. 
           And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 
“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”
“No, no,” Wonwoo assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 
           He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupid expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.
           When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Wonwoo’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 
           You opt to park two houses away. You already know who the person is who lives in this house and surely they’d only raise a brow at your car being there. You shoot them a text just in case though, because god forbid if they mention it to your parents.
 ~
 “Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely fucking boring.
 “What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.
 “Very boring, very you.”
             Wonwoo sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s still smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.
 “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”
             You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.
 “I am a comfortable mess, Wonwoo, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”
             He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.
 “I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”
             Oh, okay.
 “Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”
             Wonwoo watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more and more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.
 “I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”
             You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer.
 “Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s entering into his horny brain, confidence bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you.
 “What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 
             You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 
 “You wore a matching set for a first date? With a stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 
 “I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 
             You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.
             He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, and even worse, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something. It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 
 “I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 
             You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 
 “I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 
 “Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.
             Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 
 “You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 
             You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 
 “That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”
             You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 
             Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.
 “Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 
 “I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 
             You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 
 “Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.
             Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 
             When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.
 “I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other on a fire before this very instant. 
             You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 
             Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy, and don’t let you down this time around. 
             Wonwoo watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 
 “Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”
             You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.
             So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 
             He hums out at the feeling of your mouth, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 
             Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 
 “Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 
             The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 
             He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.
             He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 
             Wonwoo snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 
 “Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “you can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”
           That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 
             Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 
             You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 
             This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.
 “So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 
             You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more and more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.
             Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 
 “Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”
             Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 
             You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all right. 
 “Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.
             Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 
 “You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go, “do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”
             He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 
             You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.
 “It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”
             He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.
           His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 
 “Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me babe.”
             You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your core, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 
             Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 
             You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 
             This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside of your walls to truly taste you.
             God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip down your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.
             And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 
 “Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.
             You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you’re a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 
             When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 
 “Open up,” he says, licking against your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”
             You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 
 “Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your parents hear you get fucked.” 
             Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.
 “Wonwoo,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”
             He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 
 “Come on my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 
             He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–
             You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 
 “You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “think you can come around me twice tonight?”
             You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 
           Fuck, he can feel your pussy gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.
 “That’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.
             You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 
 “Let it go,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”
             Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 
             Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 
 “Can you stand?” He asks with a chuckle, but his face is slightly amazed.
             This is the first time Wonwoo has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. 
 “Come on,” he says, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and guiding you to his couch. “Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length.
             Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.
             He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 
 “Can you ride me?” he genuinely asks this time, still seeing the shine against your legs from your recent orgasm, he continues to soothe the shaking in them though, hoping to god you’ll do the same thing on his cock. 
             You nod, knowing that once you’re seated, you have both his broad chest and the back of the couch to keep you steady. And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch.
             He can feel you clench, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 
 “Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”
             You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 
             He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 
 “I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.
 “Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 
             He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your pussy hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass and guiding you even closer to his chest. 
             You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise. 
             His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spreads you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. You bounce a bit each time, and you can also feel his lips graze against your nipple each time he does it. 
             You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 
             You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again. 
             He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 
 “Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 
             You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 
             Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.
             The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.
             Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.
 “Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 
             You could have sworn he said he was going to make you come twice, now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 
             Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.
             You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.
 ~
             You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.
 “I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”
             She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you already. 
 “Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”
             His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 
 “You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”
             Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 
 “How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.
 “A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.
 “We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and maybe it wasn’t food…
 “So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”
             Wonwoo looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 
 “I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”
             She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 
             It’s silent between you and Wonwoo for a few moments before he speaks up.
 “I wouldn’t be against it.”
 “Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 
 “You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”
             You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 
 “I can’t imagine anyone would want to put up with you either,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “Lucky for you, I already put up with you.”
 ~
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antiquarianfics · 8 months
Text
The Best Things Take Time
Bucky has a code. You manage to crack it.
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A/N: This took me so long because I wasn't really sure how I wanted to go about it. I'm pretty happy with it, I think. Also, my first request! I hope I did your brain-child justice. :) Warnings: Mild language. Based on this request. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.
----
Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date—even with Sam and Yori pushing him all the time. His triggers are gone, yes, but he is starkly aware that he still has a long way to go before he might be considered ready to give time and energy to another person on a daily basis. However, if there is anyone in the world that makes him reconsider his own rule, it’s you.
The two of you first formally met when Steve, Sam, and yourself finally tracked him down. You were kind to him, but you kept your distance. He never made many attempts to speak with you, but the short interactions he did have with you were short and clinical. He never asked, but he’s pretty sure you’re afraid of him—of what he’s done.
Despite this assumption, Bucky takes note of the way you drop everything to help him time and time again. You back him in Washington, you back him in Siberia, you back him in Wakanda, and you back him in Washington in the second go-round. He is appreciative—very much so—but he keeps his distance regardless. After all, he shouldn’t risk losing an ally by something as silly as small talk.
Things begin to change, though, when he runs into you at the airport. Both him and you felt the need to get on Sam’s back about giving up the shield.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, a little indignantly. You cringe a little at your tone, but you brush it off nonetheless.
Bucky shoots you an annoyed look before turning to Sam.
Throughout the mission to track down the Flag Smashers, you and Bucky bicker (even more than Sam and Bucky do). You challenge him on every opinion he shares, poke fun at every misstep he takes, and side with Sam for the sake of disagreeing with him. He returns the favor, and he ignores the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth.
Your interactions are not particularly pleasant, sure, but they’re existent—which is progress.
“Does he always stare like that?” Walker asks Sam, eyeing Bucky uncomfortably.
“You get used to it,” Sam replies.
You glare at Walker. His attitude towards you and your boys bothers you. His entitlement to Steve’s shield and name bothers you. He bothers you.
“Does she always stare like that?” Walker asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“Only when douchebags harass my friends,” you deadpan.
You are plenty aware this is the first time you’ve called Bucky your friend, and you can tell he is too by the way his eyes shift from Walker to you. You’re not aware, though, that your concession of friendship serves as the push he needs to talk to you more.
It takes time, but over the next few weeks, Bucky manages to get you to open up. He’s surprised with himself by how he’s willing to talk to you; after all, people are usually trying to get him to talk.
Bucky finds out that you’re actually not as reserved as he thought, but you had heard both Steve’s stories of before and multiple people’s accounts of after. Your distance, you admit, was a consequence of you trying to give him space when everyone else was crowding him. Your teasing and bickering with him was a consequence of trying to create said space. The revelation makes Bucky’s heart clench: no one has made him feel so cared for in a long time.
Bucky sticks by his no dating rule, though. After all, you may be friends, and you may be acting nicer to him lately, but there’s no way you like him like that.
Or, at least he thinks so until Louisiana.
“Hey, Sarah,” Bucky says, flashing a charming smile at her from where he sits next to Sam and yourself on the dock.
“Hey!” You smack his chest with the back of your hand. “No flirting with Sam’s sister.”
He lets his attention shift to you, and he can’t help the surprise. He’s aware that you could just be enforcing Sam’s demand from earlier, but you’re so adamant. He thinks maybe he sees a flash of jealousy in your eyes, but he thinks, too, he might just be seeing what he wants to see.
Sam and Sarah continue to bicker before she shoos the three of you away from the boat. Sam and Bucky step onto the dock and begin to walk away before you, and they keep walking even when Sarah stops you.
“Subtle,” she says, smirking at you. You wave her off, your face heating up with a blush.
“Shut up,” you say, embarrassment entwined with each syllable.
Bucky thinks maybe—just maybe—you might like him back.
Looking back on the last few years, Bucky can hardly believe the journey you and he had been on. Being so distant most of your time together in the first few years, and then being so rude to each other the next few, and then needing a push from the Wilsons to actually do anything about your feelings… it was interesting, to say the least.
He remembers the day you agreed to leave Louisiana with him. It was an impulsive decision, but it led to the first time the two of you had truly been alone together. It led to inside jokes and deep conversations. It led to a genuine friendship.
“I’m headed out tomorrow,” Bucky informed you and Sam.
The three of you were sitting on the porch of Sarah’s house, conversation flowing from friendly jests, to Karli, to the boat, to whatever else. Your head shot up to stare at him, eyes widening.
“What? Why?” Your tone was a little panicked. Bucky raised his eyebrows at your tone. Sam laughed, and you shot him a glare.
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, Doll,” he said. Ever since the incident with Sarah, he’d let a few pet names for you fall from his lips, and he smugly noted the way they made you squirm.
“Oh.”
“Well!” Sam exclaimed, clapping his palms on his knees as he stood. “I’m gonna go check on Sarah and the boys while you,” he pointed at the two of you in turn, “figure whatever is going on here out.”
You protested, but Sam was gone without another word. Neither one of you spoke for a moment, and you chewed on your lip.
“You’re really going?” You asked shyly.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
“You can come with me, if you want,” he offered before he can think better of himself.
Your eyes shot to his, analyzing his face for any sort of jest. He seemed sincere, and once you decided he wasn’t pulling your leg, you responded.
“Okay.”
He remembers the day the two of you finally addressed that you were more than friends. Bucky, of course, has a no dating rule, and you? You had no such thing, but you weren’t dating either. In fact, you hadn’t since before Karli and the Flag Smashers showed up.
Bucky and yourself were at a bar, drinking and laughing with one another. He was sober, of course, but you were a little tipsy. You had a dopey smile on your face that he thought was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He still thinks your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
That’s when a young woman sauntered up to the bar. She was gorgeous; her long, black braids reached her waist, her lips were painted a bright red color, and she wore a halter top that left little to the imagination.
“Hi,” she said, grabbing your attention, shooting you a flirtatious smile.
“Hi!” You said, the alcohol making you friendlier than you usually are.
“I saw you across the bar, and I was jus’ wonderin’, would you wanna grab a drink with me? Maybe dance a lil’?” Her eyes dragged down your body and back up to your eyes.
Your eyes widened and you blushed.
“Oh, uh! T-thank you! I’m flattered, but, uh, I got my guy right here, and I kinda like him too much to date!” You sort of yell-whispered the confession to the girl.
She glanced behind you to Bucky whose eyes had also widened in shock, his mouth hanging open a little. The woman laughed and touched your shoulder comfortingly.
“‘s alright,” she assured. “Was worth a shot, though.”
She turned to Bucky then.
“Yo, congrats, man. You’re a lucky guy once you two talk that through.”
With that, she had left, and you turned around to Bucky.
“Look,” you said, more sober sounding than you’d been since the two of you arrived at the bar. “I don’t know what you think this is, or what you want it to be, but I’m all in if you are.”
Bucky leaned forward and kissed you without a second thought.
And he remembers the moment he decided he was going to marry you, if you’d have him.
The two of you were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment; after about two years of dating, you insisted you live together.
“Buck, you’re always here. All your stuff is here. I don’t think you’ve stepped foot in your apartment in a month. You’re just wasting money on rent at this point.”
You were leaned into his side, eyes glued to the tv screen. The two of you were watching The Princess Bride (it’s one of the many movies you insisted was so culturally significant that he had to see it). It was the way you would turn to him at your favorite parts, gauging his reactions to see if he loved it like you did; the way you would mouth the most iconic lines along with the characters; and the way you would sigh contentedly and cuddle further into his side at the romantic scenes that really pulled the realization from deep within him. And, perhaps, it was the way you produced the most ridiculous voice to say "Mawwiage! Mawwiage is what bwings us here today!" that truly brought the idea of marrying you to the forefront of his mind. Regardless, he knew he wanted you around for the rest of his already over-extended lifetime.
Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date, and he decided late in his life as a free man that he wasn't going to ever try and date anyone other than you. So, here he finds himself, kneeling on the ground in front of you with a ring extended towards your person, and hoping you'll say yes.
"Sweetheart, I know we've had a lot of ups and downs. We met when I wasn't truly myself, we got together when I was still figuring out who I am on my own—without Steve, without HYDRA—but no matter what, you've been there for me. You're still here for me.
"You deserve the world, Doll, and I want to give it to you. I want to be here for all your ups and downs, and I want to spend my life being to you what you've already been to me.
"You're my partner, you're my best friend, you're the love of my life. And if you'll have me, I'll be your king, if you'll be my queen. I'll be your husband, if you'll be my wife.
"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?"
You let out a laugh through a sob, pulling your hand to your face to quickly wipe your tears away, and you nod vigorously. You drop to your knees, pulling Bucky's face into your hands, caressing his cheek gently. Smiling, you respond.
"James Bucky Barnes, of course I'll marry you."
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vagabond-umlaut · 8 months
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affaire de cœur
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Plucking one's heart from their chest and devouring it is all 'affairs of the heart' meant to the King of Curses— until his Queen walked onto the stage of his life, that is.
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▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; comprises of elements inspired by the tale of 'hades and persephone'; gallons of domestic fluff between sukuna and reader; hints of spicy times; no warnings except sukuna is very much sukuna here but you too are there, so he's sort of a better sukuna... [not loads better, though]
▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!
▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️
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"Repeat those words after me, my lord."
"No."
The pouty face you vault his way from the other end of the bathhouse makes Sukuna huff an annoyed sigh. Few monsoons back, you would never even see him in the eye, gaze trained on his feet – until he lifted your chin up; even then you would shyly avert your gaze — yet, now?
Now, you show the boldness to wear such a pathetic expression while making such an imbecilic request– nay, demand of him– locking your gaze with his the entirety of the time, no less.
Another sigh finds its route past his lips. Watching the way those sin-filled lips of yours twitch in a tiny smile before dipping into a pout, he groans.
"Alright. Fine," Sukuna grumbles, resting his two arms on the edge of the tub while the other two move to card through his damp hair, "Will you ever leave me for another, woman?"
Your eyebrows rise for a beat, the second the question you chomped his ears off earlier for, leaves his mouth. Your lover rolls his eyes, loud scoffs erupting from him at the utter inanity of the whole situation at hand — you, not beside by him, but beside those damned towels and bath soaps; him, not soaking in the warmth of your flesh but of these bath waters; the humid bathhouse not resonating with the sounds of your whines but with the remnants of a query, whose answer he does not care the least for, for no matter what you say or do, he will not—
"Yes, I will."
Your clear voice scatters his thoughts away, akin a strong wind and a handful of chaff. Sukuna freezes, every crimson eye of his fixed upon your approaching figure– your soft footfalls, your yellow yukata, your simple hairdo, your angelic smile...
Your husband takes a while too long before discovering his lost voice, eyes narrowed, throat tight and chest heavy as he asks you, "You will leave me, pet?"
"Uh-huh, I sure will," you hum in response, sitting on the stool next to the tub and moistening a towel. Sukuna moves to grasp your wrist in his palm but pauses when he catches you switch your attention from the towel to him, a terrifying emotion brimming in your tender gaze.
You draw in a tiny breath before speaking, voice now a mere whisper.
"Show me someone who is the most feared creature to ever exist, yet is a sulking mess if he isn't being cuddled in bed till noon every single day; someone who detests humans like I detest carrots, yet visits the monthly market in secret, to get gifts for his close one; someone who everyone's told me is the worst, yet goes on to prove, again and again and again, how he's the absolute best in this world—"
You stop suddenly.
Chest growing heavy from an entirely different reason now, your lover drinks in the manner your smile widens, your fragile fingers letting go of the cloth to trace those markings on his skin instead – you resume.
"Show me someone whose embraces feel the safest place in all the three realms, and I swear, my king, I'll leave you and run to his arms without thinking twice."
For the first time in his millennium of existence, the two-faced curse feels the same distress of being paralysed, as his mere mien induces in the muscles of his miserable victims— except, it isn't the fear of an end to his life which is causing this abhorrent weakness to him unlike those worthless mortals— no.
It is the fear of the unknown, of the uncharted, which is rendering his powerful self so, so powerless before your blinding brilliance. Sukuna thinks death might be an easier journey to undertake than these odd realisations your voice and touch elicit in him always.
These days, more so.
This moment, very much so.
The addicting timbre of your voice rouses him from his musings, the second time that night.
"Is every–"
"Is that supposed to be a love confession?" Your husband cuts you off before you can finish your question. You slowly blink at him once then twice, before leaning backwards and picking up the forgotten cloth, a visibly coy giggle bubbling out you as you return to washing his skin.
"Yes," you agree after a beat, gaze darting to his face before skittering away again, "That is supposed to be a love confession for my beloved king; though I wonder what my lord thinks of it. Was it heart-touching as I intended to make it? Or did it sound too tedious to him?"
The addressed being deliberately makes a big show of rolling each of his four eyes at your query. "Neither," he says, curling his lip in a show of vexation before they lift a little at the lower lip you jut out, "And you should count yourself to be lucky that you're my wife, not a worthless mortal, pet. For if you were not my wife–"
"– you would've sliced me into halves without a moment's hesitation," you finish the rest of the sentences for him with a fond shake of your head. "Trust me, my king, I know you. I do, I rea– Sukuna!!!"
The startled shriek of his name— not my lord or my king but Sukuna —parts the curse's lips in a smirk, which widens on noticing the warm water slowly seeping into your clothes, making them translucent; and you staring up at him with a disbelieving look etched onto your pretty face.
Sukuna allows his smirk to melt away into a genuine smile, for once.
Nestling your drenched form closer to himself, he closes his eyes to rest his forehead on your shoulder, palms holding you as if you were not a member of the race he lives for the sake of tormenting, but an invaluable blessing, beings he has never believed in, sent earthward for his damned self.
Which is true, the curse reckons. You indeed are a blessing he knows he doesn't deserve – yet will keep for and with himself for an eternity and some more.
Pressing you closer to himself, your husband lifts his head to plant a kiss to your forehead, followed by your warm cheeks — hoping you'll understand the meaning behind every reverent contact he's marking your form with now.
After all, you know him really well, don't you?
[You do— which is only why you reciprocate every brush of his sharp canine over your skin, with a brush of your soft palm over the wicked, handsome, wickedly handsome visage of the love of your life.]
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▸ masterlist
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