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#i love how his lip curves when he speaks
screampied · 4 months
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how jjk men react to you being quiet in bed and trying to hide your moans
ps: love your writing and I don't know if you've done this or not but respond when you can happy new year🎊
❛ JUST A TEASE! ❜
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geto, sukuna, gojo, toji, nanami. jjk men dealing with a quiet s/o who hides their moans.
warnings. fem!reader, lots of praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, hair pulling, overstim, hiding your moans, size kink, 18+
wc. 2.5k
an. happy new year !!!! and thank yew smmm.
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★ NANAMI KENTO.
“everything okay?” he’d hum, and nanami’s got you riding him, two soft grasped hands latch onto your waist as you’re slowly lurching and bucking your hips against him. nanami ghosts a few fingers down your waist.
a sly teasing expression with the way he’s leaned back, his eyes trail from up to down as he sees your cute expressions. “you’re awfully quiet today, princess.”
and you were very much quiet, he raised his brows at the way you hide yourself into his neck, trying to deflect the situation by softly nibbling on his skin and he smiles to himself. 
“is the pretty baby shy to make noise?” he coos, his words were warm—full of tenderness with a tad of playfulness. you let off a soft gasp from the way he lightly grips a bit more on both sides of your waist. nanami makes you start to move your hips, bounce against him, your skin ricocheting from each thrust and you’re so full, pumped full of his girth you can’t even think clearly. “you don’t gotta hide from me. ‘s just me, hon. your moans are adorable, y’know?”
you pathetically nod, feeling yourself throb from not only his sloppy hits against you—but his words, the way he was so soft and tender with his praises. 
“i-i know,” you muttered, your arms went around him and he softly chortles, brushing his thumbs against your hips—creating a pattern-like trace of circles against your skin, giving your sweet curves all types of attention and touch. “i just don’t wanna be so loud. it’s…embarrassing.”
“embarrassing?” he repeats, and he’s still leaned back. nanami’s so pretty, blond hair slightly ruffled, a few beads of sweat run down the sides of his head as if they were in a competitive race with each other. 
he’s balls deep to where you slip out a moan from feeling his tip kiss against that spot that always gets you weak. “oh, don’t say that,” he happily sighs, there was a sparse glimpse of sparkle in his eye and he smiles. nanami lightly tilts your chin up to bring a kiss towards your lips. “you could never be embarrassing, my love. if anything, your sweet moans and whimpers are quite adorable. the way only i can make you sound like that makes me feel a certain type of way.”
“really?” you’d moan, squeezing your glossed lips together. 
“really, princess.” he reassures you, your entrance felt as if it was nearly at its limit, nanami’s cock stretched and stretched against you as you felt him throb—giving him a subtle glance. you could spot his sharp jawline, and the perfect way of how it clenched and tightened. you made him so aroused, for a brief moment he stared away before pulling you towards his chest. 
you choke out a whimper, pressure building up inside of you, how filthy it was at the way his tip french-kissed your g-spot, a sloppy smooch with the head of it — you’re spasming, you’re stupid. 
“k-kento, ‘m gonna cum...” you’d gasp.
“can’t hear you pretty girl,” he groans, peppering a few kisses near your face. “i wanna hear you. speak up, wanna hear that voice talk to me nice.”
once you end up creaming down his shaft for a second time. you’re shaking, a mess and he has to hold you in his arms. a warm smile on his lips as your body lifelessly rocked against him.
not exactly moving your hips anymore—you panted, tugging on the front fabric of his shirt before slumping your head against his chest.
“aww, my poor baby’s all exhausted, hm? there there, ‘s okay. i got you, kento’s got you.”
★ GOJO SATORU.
the moment he figures out you’re trying to be quiet purposely — hiding your moans. a hand covering your mouth he grows confused, yet it turns to straight cockiness. 
“heyyy, don’t be like that,” he purses his lips, you’re laid flat on your back with your legs just lightly pushed apart. just open and spread just for him and only him. “hiding your pretty moans from me? aw man, that’s no fun, princess…”
and he gives you a faux pout your right hand that wasn’t occupied, your nails dug into the depths of his skin, marking up his pale toned arm.
gojo looks down at you, one hand lightly pressing against your tummy to feel how good he was fucking you. 
“m-mhm s-sato—,” you’d pant, again and again. your pussy gripped and hugged tight against him. a bear hug practically. your walls grew out to be so needy, suffocating yet you get cut off your words once he grabs your chin. a thumb swipes against the tiny drool seeping down the corner of your mouth. 
“don’t hide from me.” he murmurs. he’s real slow with his movements against you, slow and steady. 
his bare chest presses against you, and he’s so hot, his heat radiates against your skin, almost as if he was sticking against you. “don’t cover that pretty face. matter of fact,” and then he pistons his thrusts—a hand running up and down your waist, squelches of your cunt ringing through your ears like a bell. “moan in my mouth. gimme a little kiss,” and then he teasingly puts a finger against his lips. “riiiight here, baby.”
his body jerks against yours and gojo brings you into a deep kiss once you lean. his tongue traces against yours, heaving before he starts moaning into your mouth from your sweetened taste.
“sweet girl,” he’d grunt, you could feel his erectness practically plug you full. whilst gojo’s chest pressed against yours, he started to grind slowly against you. your lips parted a bit, eliciting a needy moan from your throat.
it was the way your legs trapped his slim waist, easily locking around. you gasped — feeling gojo move your hand from your face, pinning them towards the sides, and you felt that dumb coy smile of his tug against the corners of his lips.
he smiles at how you start to cover your mouth again, but he moves your hand away. “so damn shy for nooo reason,” he teases. with a blindfold half on, gojo he playfully tugs on the band, clicking his tongue with a swift head shake. “ah ah, i wanna hear you.”
and you grew out to be more flustered the minute he pulls away from kissing. strands of spit depart your lips and his. leaning into your neck to softly, gojo nibbles against your skin all to just to drag out more noises from you.
“think ‘m gonna laugh at your orgasm or somethin’?” he whispers against your skin, still buried deep—inches inside your pussy that gripped and clamped down on him before he giggles at the way you nod. “aw. i won’t do that. ‘m not that mean.”
“promise?” you mumbled.
his thrusts, so fulfilling. it was so deep, reaching directly into those spots to make you your brain short circuit. swallowing thickly, you end up cutely tugging on his arm.
he chuckles. “oh i promise, baby,” and then he plants a kiss near your nose—cheek—then near the corner of your mouth, finally locking his fingers with yours. “be as loud as you want, if it helps, i’ll be loud with you,” and then he runs a hand down his back. “just…not too loud because it’ll be the seventh time the erm…neighbors complain about us, heheh.”
★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
“what’s with you?” he raises a dark brow, your back’s being pressed against his chest.
riding him in reverse and you’re so quiet….
dragging a few nails lightly against his thigh and he gives the right side of your neck a few playful bites. “you’re not all whiney like ya usually are.”
his words were so smooth and sly against your neck, delicately brushing against your skin.
he throbs inside you, and you clamp and clamp down on him. you’re so dizzy—yet you seclude your moans by pressing your glossed lips together, only cute faint soft mutters of moans slipping out here and there.
“…woman,” he grunts, pausing your hips, your eyes briefly widen at the feeling of sukuna’s big hands hold your waist in place—a single shift of his thigh, and you felt his girth expand deep inside your walls. “aw don’t don’t hide from me now,” he smiles, a mere softness gliding against his deep tone.
you started to cover your face with your hands from how embarrassed you were—yet sukuna grabs your hands and chuckles. the way the tips of his fingers graze against you make you tingle. you pulsed so much—it got you off to where you felt yourself start to salivate, all from his touch and words.
“you know better than to not hide your pretty voice,” he murmurs, softly sinking his canines into your neck. nibble after nibble, you panted. a whimper leaves your throat once he starts to bounce his thigh. “or…should i stop?”
“n—no,” you choked out, a swift head shake. the way he softly sucks against your skin, gentle fangs softly seeping into your neck before giving your neck a few sweet kisses. “kuna- don’t stop.”
“i would,” he hums with a chortle. deep voice full of smug and satirize. and his cock was just idle against you. at this point you were cockwarming him, and you wanted to move but he had your hips still. “but i guess someone thought it was a good idea to hide their pretty moans from me.”
he was such a tease—you felt yourself burn up once he drags a a hand down between your legs to rub a few good circles against your clit, maneuvering his fingers, and you’re so wet….
it was sloppy.
squelch after squelch. you whimpered, gripping onto his hand to make him rub harder but then he chuckles, lightly swatting your hand away. “oh…?you like that? or you’d prefer for me to finish?”
“f-finish, ‘kuna..”
“then moan for me,” he whispers, giving your skin a soft suck. sukuna starts to bounce his thigh again and you whine. nails piercing into his thighs, you hit your lip before letting off a moan. “see, that wasn’t so hard, now was it, brat,” and he helps you start to grind your hips against him. reaching so deep, your head fell back against him and he lowly guffaws. “yeah, be loud. don’t care who here’s, ‘s just you and me.”
★ GETO SUGURU.
he’d be propped up in between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. you have the courtesy of tying his long, pretty hair back for him.
a few minutes had past yet he was taking his precious time, pressing sweet kisses against your cunt.
you felt yourself throb and flutter, gripping onto his hair and he has a smile.
“love pullin’ on my hair, huh?” he mutters, swiping a thumb against your slit. you happily coat him with your slick than ran down his chin. you gave him a pathetic nod, and you shiver, lips parting from the way geto presses his tongue against your labia — giving it lick after lick.
geto’s raises a brow at the way you’re covering your mouth with a hand, just barely keeping eye contact with him.
he plants a chaste kiss against your pussy before pausing briefly. breaking himself away and now you pout. “…hey,” he murmurs, a coy cunning voice. “stop that, baby.”
“s-stop what?” you hitched, your legs feeling warm. he was so sloppy with his tongue, yet gentle.
“girl, you know what i’m talking about.” a subtle eye-roll, geto sits up from between your legs. his tone was now filled with playfulness yet a bit of sass.
you stare down at him, a few strands occluding his view of vision.
tightly holding onto his hair, he stares at your pussy then at you.
“you’re being all timid and shy. c’mon, ‘s just me. i wanna hear how good i make you feel,” and then he slowly lays his tongue flat against your cunt. “…so…let….me,” he paused between speech. using two fingers to lightly spread open your folds, geto laps his tongue again to taste your sweet. “—finish my meal, and lemme hear you.”
“o-okay.” you stuttered. gritting your teeth for a split second, your legs felt numb and not even moments later.
he ends up coaxing yet another orgasm out of you, your mind goes blank. you were so loud.
he couldn’t help but chuckle at you, how cute you were. with the way your body jerked and squirmed all because of his tongue.
geto gives your pussy a good suck, he knows all the right spots to swirl and run his tongue across.
“there it is,” he hums, and his head goes forward before you yank a bit too hard between your legs. “e-easy, sweetheart. don’t pull my hair out now.”
★ FUSHIGURO TOJI.
toji grunts — two rough hands attached to your waist as he’s got your head pressed against the mattress. you’re biting the sheets with your teeth, strained moans being secluded entirely and toji immediately notices, you feel the curve of his dick throb against you. it was so good, your eyes rolled all the way back, toji’s got your wrists in a good hold before he pauses his sloppy thrusts.
“hmph.”
“w-why’d you stop..” you spat out, your voice was a bit shaky and muffled….solely from the way your teeth tugged against the sheets.
toji’s stubborn and doesn’t reply, and instead, he makes you move your ass up just a bit—yet he pulls out, and you gasp at the feeling of him just rubbing his leaky plump tip against your inner folds.
a few inches and he'd be right back in. you cringed. and you started to whine, face down and ass up, your body felt so hot and tingly.
“t-tojiiii..”
“w-whattt..”
he mocks your voice, and you let off a frustrated sigh, he butchers your tone in the most dramatic way. you don’t even sound like that. “aw, getting frustrated, ey? how come y’er biting the sheets. ya don’t want me to hear you or somethin’—?”
your eyebrows contorted together, and you huffed out a needy breath, back starting to arch idly. “no,” and you feel the tips of your ears grow hot at a scorching temperature—his tip, it was rounded and fat, just swiping against your folds. with just a bit of a push he’d be back inside, but he kept sliding out. “toji, f-finish…finish fucking me.”
“say please.”
you pout, your cheek pressing into the mattress now—desperately craving him to continue. “please…”
“silly girl. ya forgot to say pretty please.”
“toji….” you moaned, craving to feel him again, and he caressed his fingers against your ass, teasing you—a single playful click of his tongue, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger. he starts to make you rollick and move your hips against him, still holding your hips. you grumbled, finally letting off a moan—just wanting him to not tease and finish. “pretty please.”
“good girl,” he purrs softly, dipping his hips against you just slightly before you sit your head up. “now now, lie back,” he mutters, and he starts to go back inside again, a good squeeze and fit and you let off a soft whine once his cock hits there.
you’re seeing blanks, mouth open and all, you whimper before you start getting louder. “there we go….use that whiney voice, jus’ like ya always have, doll.”
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diorchids · 26 days
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BACKYARD BARBECUE, SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY.
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— dadsbestfriend!simon, age gap (r is 19-20), size kink, fingering, p in v, praise kink, choking, bruising, nipple sucking, nipple play, outdoor sex, tummy bulges.
you knew he was coming. 
simon is your father's best friend, the two met while stationed. you’d met him enough times to call him an uncle, about a year ago, getting more and more comfortable with him as the months passed.
your skirt billowed in the slight wind, the sun shone as you spoke to family. 
you heard your father chuckle before seeing simon, a few words being exchanged before he made his way over to you. 
he’s taken a liking to you out of all your siblings, making this extremely obvious to you just by the way he treats you. he gets closer to you and immediately hugs you, taking in your smell and planting his large hand on your back.
“hey there, sweetheart. how’s my favorite girl doing?” his scruffy beard scratching your face as his hands moved further down, stopping before breaking the hug.
“hey, si,” you gave a smile, not breaking eye contact for even a second. to anyone, this would be flirting. but it’s not like that. you’re greeting a family friend, attending to your daughterly duties.
“look at you, kiddo, so grown up now.” he stood back and looked you up and down, eyeing your body perversely. 
you two talked, having to practically yell because of the number of people speaking. he knew he had your attention, and he liked it.
“but,” he grinned, taking another step closer. his hand slid down your hip, fingers grazing against the bare skin of your thigh. "why don't we find a nice quiet spot to talk?" he whispered in your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck.
this wasn’t completely new for him. there was an incident before when you had to drive with him to the beach, your car was broken down, and your parents' car was full. you sat in the passenger seat in your bikini, smiling and laughing at whatever he was saying, a little desperate. his hand rested on your thigh, thumb rubbing the supple skin back and forth. you could’ve sworn he was inching closer to your inner thighs as he drove. 
you waited for a second before answering, your head tilted before speaking, “‘kay.” a brief answer, no teasing this time. 
simon leads you to a secluded corner of the backyard, away from the bustle of the barbecue. he sits on an old, wooden bench, patting his lap invitingly. "now then, love," he began, his voice low. 
you sat promptly. 
simon's large hands roamed your body, squeezing your thighs and tracing the curves of your waist. his fingers dipped beneath your skirt, brushing against the thin fabric of your panties.
he groaned grossly under his breath, not getting enough of your body. the way you’d melt under his touch, so disgustingly needy for contact, made him want to take you even more.
his fingers dipped beneath your skirt, brushing against the thin fabric of your panties. your clit was so puffy, you were just so ready for his cock. “i’ve been watchin’ you, you know,” his thick accent making your thighs burn.
simon's lips were inches from your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. he brought his other hand to your throat, squeezing before moving it toward your breasts. “i've always thought you were such a pretty little thing.” he whispered.
his hands pinched your nipples through your thin shirt, in turn making you grind down on his bulge. :(
“mmm, really?” your poor clit twitched under his finger. he pressed his lips against your neck, kissing and nipping gently, “so grown up now… hm?” he purred. his hands traveled lower, pushing your skirt up around your hips. you had nothing to say, words failing to escape your lips.
both of his hands were circling your pulsing cunt by now, a finger finding you already wet with excitement. you whimpered as he pressed his finger against your entrance, rubbing teasingly. “you want this, don’t you, doll?” you nodded, “i do.”
without hesitation, simon pushed his fingers inside you, feeling your tight cunt grip him perfectly. he began to move them in and out slowly, picking up speed as he felt your wetness coat his knuckles. “so fucking tight.” he moaned.
you writhed underneath him, tears already starting to roll as your legs trembled. you babbled and shook as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, stretching you. 
simon used another hand to pull your shirt over your head, revealing your breasts. your back rubbed up against his chest before he pulled his fingers from your cunt, lifting and turning you so you were facing him.
he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while pushing his fingers back into your starving little cunt. your mascara ran down your face as you pouted and cried, senses becoming overwhelmed.
he sucked hard while continuing to finger you. “you’re gonna make such a pretty little slut.” he groaned against your skin. “mhm! f-feels so fuckin’ good, si. m’gonna cum.” stupidly nodding and biting your plump lip.
he chuckled darkly, his fingers pumping faster and harder inside your velvety walls. your cunt constricted around his knuckles as you cried out, legs quivering as the knot in your tummy threatened release.
salty tears rolled down your face before he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving a trail of your juices on his hand. his fat cock pushed up against his slacks, straining against it, emphasizing every curve in his bulge. you cried loudly, lips puffy and slick, clit twitching pathetically.
your fingers curved around his clothed cock, being pushed away before he unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants down, pre-cum leaking through the fabric of his boxers. he pulls his waistband away from his hips, freeing his cock pressed up against his stomach. 
he pulled his pants off as you stood and watched, salivating at the sight of his cock. you’d do anything for him, getting more and more greedy at the thought of him finally pushing his cock into you. 
finally, he had you on your knees on the bench, facing away from him, cunt burning, waiting for his thick length. you waited, breaking the silence with a question, “you usually like college girls?” 
it was an honest question, you were serious. 
he rubbed the tip of his cock against your slick hole, teasing. “i like what i like,” he grinned. “and right now, i like you.” he pushed his cock into your tense cunt, causing you to dig your nails into his thigh.
simon thrust his hips forward, burying his cock inside you up to the hilt. you felt his chest rising and falling against you as he groaned against your neck. how badly he wanted to bruise it up.
“take it,” he grunted, “take all of it.” his cock stretched your cunts walls, filling you up with his thickness. you felt a hand trail up to your throat, another gripping your hips tightly, guiding him in and out of your soaking hole.
he was rough with you, increasing the force with which he pounded into you. his hips snapped forward which each thrust, making your ass ripple. “s-si, can’t take it n’more! agh–cock s’fat, go slow, si, please, hurt s’bad!” he laughed at your attempts to stop him.
his grip on your neck tightened with each thrust, surely creating small bruises to deal with later. “fuckin’ delicious. takin’ me so well.” he said breathlessly, continuing to pound into you without mercy. 
“s’too much… si, fuck!” he was hunched over, both of you a mess, hair stuck to his forehead, you, crying ‘cause of his fat dick! 
“g-go deeper, deep–mmf!” you begged.
simon hissed, pulling out almost completely before slamming his huge cock back in with a force that made your poor tummy flip. he continued this pattern of deep thrusts, grunting loudly with each one as he dove his cock deeper into your wet hole.
he brought a hand to your clit, thick finger lousily rubbing and rolling it roughly between his thumb and forefinger. “m’gonna cum!” you pushed yourself onto his cock more, greedy for his length.
“cum–cum for me, love.” he urged, thrusting into you even harder. you gushed around his cock, thrashing while your cunt showed its appreciation, orgasm crashing over you, causing you to clench tightly around his cock. you moaned like an animal as he continued his abuse on your walls.
“fuck–like that,” simon grunted, groaning loudly as he felt his cock shudder violently inside of you. with one last thrust, he let go and came inside of you, filling you with his hot seed. it spilled out of you before simon sloppily thrust a few more times, making sure to fuck his cum deep into you, like there were no consequences. 
he didn’t let go of you, still hunched over your body, small in comparison to him, tummy slightly bulged by his oversized cock. panting heavily, he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. his cock twitched inside of you, releasing a few more spurts of cum. 
he helped you to your feet, smoothing your hair, drying your tears after wiping the cum from your inner thigh with his thumb, and sticking it in your mouth. you sucked his thumb hungrily, warm tongue making him softly groan. 
he’d heard your father call for him from the grill while he buckled his pants, kissing you before walking back into the yard. 
“good talk, sweetheart.”
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ervotica · 5 months
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“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍
a life of our own
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pairing: finnick odair x reader
summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.
warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)
hunger games masterlist
Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.
Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.
You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.
He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.
Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.
You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.
The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.
He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.
“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.
“That’s right.”
You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.
“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.
“Anything.”
“You love me. Real or not real?”
“Real,” he murmurs.
“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.
“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.
“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.
“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”
You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.
“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.
“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”
You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.
You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.
“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”
“Yes please.”
“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“Then I won’t.”
You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.
“I’m tired,” you croak.
“You want me to leave you to sleep?”
“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”
“I’ll stay as long as you want.”
He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.
“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.
You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.
Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.
“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”
His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.
You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.
“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”
You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.
“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.
“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”
You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.
“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”
He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.
“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.
“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”
“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”
“Okay.”
Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.
“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”
“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”
You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.
“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”
“A life of our own.”
4K notes · View notes
yeonzzzn · 3 months
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🤍give up heaven: sunghoon
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pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 10.6k
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synopsis: when you run into your best friend's ex-boyfriend at your favorite coffee shop thinking it was just a coincidence until seeing him became a daily thing. You can't get him out of your head and start to feel guilty at the very thought of him and things take a turn when he starts making advances towards you.
genre: hockey player!hoon with small mentions of figure skater!hoon, ex-bestfriend bf!hoon, hoon's ex-girlfriend best friend, friends to lovers, slight smut.
warnings: swearing, implied sex, make-out session, fingering, jerking off, verbal fight between reader, the ex, and sunghoon, MINORS DNI. lmk if i've missed anything!
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You tried to avert your eyes when you saw him walk into the coffee shop. Pulling the scarf around your neck up higher and turning your face in the opposite direction. 
His voice echoed throughout the small shop, ordering his regular drink. Why do you still remember how he liked his coffee?
You slowly glanced up, his back was facing towards you, his hand reaching for his wallet from the back pocket of his blue jeans. 
After paying, he stepped back from the counter. You quickly turned your head away again, praying he didn’t see you or would even notice you. 
“Y/N?” 
Well, shit.
There's no point in hiding now. You slowly lifted your head, seeing the soft smile on his face as he slightly leaned to the side to get a look at your face, “It really is you.” 
You awkwardly smile, “Yes, it’s me.” 
Get your shit together, Y/N, come on.
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short when his name was called, “Sunghoon! Your iced coffee is ready!” 
“Be right back,” his knuckles tapped on the table, his smile growing. 
You carefully watched as he got his coffee and made his way back to your table, pulling the chair across from you out and seating himself. 
“How have you been?” he asked excitedly, his long fingers wrapping around his coffee, taking a small sip, “It’s been what? A year?” 
You nodded, wrapping your fingers around your warm coffee, “I see you still drink iced coffee even during the winter, some things never change huh?” 
Sunghoon softly chuckled, his smile just growing brighter and wider, his natural fangs peeking from his lips, “Everyone knows iced coffee is superior,” he leaned his elbows onto the table, “Your hair is longer, it looks good. You look good.” 
You smiled, “Thank you, you look really good as well, Sunghoon.” 
Sunghoon gave you a soft smirk and flexed his arms, “Why thank you! Been working out a lot lately.” 
You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee, “You really haven’t changed.” 
His laugh was enough to make you laugh as well, the corners of your lips curving upwards no matter how hard you tried to push it down. 
It felt like old times. 
Speaking about old times…
His smile finally faded, the happy expression he once had was also gone, his face relaxing into a kinda of sad softness. 
His voice trembled, “How is uhh…how is she?” his eyes darted to the corner of the table. 
Oh…he’s still in love with her.
Your lips thinned into a line, trying to figure out what information was appropriate to give out. 
“She’s really good.” it wasn’t a total lie. 
Sunghoon nodded, the corner of his lips barely curling, “That’s… um…that’s good then. I’m glad she’s doing well.” 
It broke your heart that he couldn’t even say your best friend's name. It must still hurt even after a year. 
Sunghoon dated your best friend for almost three years. You remember when the two of you first met him at your college's hockey game. 
He bumped into the two of you, spilling his soda all down your best friend's outfit. Oh, man was she pissed. It didn’t take Sunghoon long to convince her to let him make it up to her. 
After that, they were inseparable. 
Sunghoon was a part of the hockey team, but due to a leg injury, he had to sit out until he was completely healed. But that didn’t stop him from attending every hockey game to support his teammates. He even dragged your best friend along with him. Which eventually led you to tag along as well. 
The three of you became that trio that was inseparable. A package deal. If you saw one of us, the other two were sure to be right behind. 
Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Their relationship got toxic. They fought more than normally and on hangout days, either your best friend was missing, or Sunghoon was missing. Nothing felt right and the air between your friend group grew thick. Hard to breathe. 
Sunghoon eventually stopped talking to you, and then they broke up. Your best friend stopped hanging around you and slowly stopped speaking to you as well. You figured it was due to the heartbreak, that she just needed her space. You didn’t think it would lead to your friendship slowly becoming nonexistent. 
You two weren’t exactly best friends anymore, but after she healed from the breakup, she came back around. It just wasn’t the same as before Sunghoon came into the picture. 
You two still barely talk, and barely see each other, but still kept that contact and hung out when you could. 
You never understood why she pushed you away, but the heart does crazy things when it’s hurting. 
And you haven’t seen Sunghoon since a couple of months before the breakup, until today. A little over a year later. 
“Well,” Sunghoon’s voice brought you out of your deep thoughts, “I have to get going, need to catch practice.” 
Your eyebrows raised, “You’re playing still?” 
Sunghoon’s doctor finally cleared him to get back on the ice after almost a year of being off it, but due to the team setup they had at that time, he wasn’t able to fully rejoin the team again until around the time of the breakup. He was able to practice and attend the games as a sub if needed, but it was enough for him to keep his mind busy for a little bit. 
You’ve secretly kept up with the scores of the hockey team, knowing Sunghoon was back on the team officially. But after a while you quit. Clearing Sunghoon from your life completely. 
Sunghoon nodded, “Hell yeah I’m still playing, who do you think I am?” he teased, standing up from the table, “But, I am actually not going to hockey practice.” 
The surprise must have shown on your face because Sunghoon was giggling like a child at your confusion, “I joined an ice skating team as a figure skater.” 
You sat up straighter in your chair, “Since when?!”
“Since…well.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, it was all you needed to know. 
Being a sub on the hockey team eventually wasn’t enough for Sunghoon to keep his brain busy after the breakup. Until he was officially able to play again, he needed another distraction. Come to find out he loved figure skating as much as hockey, deciding even after being fully back on the hockey team, he kept up with figure skating as well. 
You slowly nodded, “I am really glad you’re doing well for yourself, Sunghoon.” 
He softly nodded back, “Thank you, Y/N. I have to get going, the ice is calling my name.”
You waved at him as he walked to the entrance, him turning back around as his back touched the doors, “It was nice seeing you!” 
You agreed. 
Your best friend sighed as another customer walked into the smoothie shop, holding up her index finger towards you as she walked away and up to the register, taking the customer's order. 
You leaned against the counter, moving the seat back and forth with your hips like a child. 
“Okay,” she said, returning to you after the customer's smoothie was made, “What were you telling me?” 
“Just that the materials you missed in bio today weren't too hard. I took extra notes for you,” you pulled into your backpack taking out the pretty iced blue folder, “Here they are!” you pulled out the stack of notes you made for her, her taking them and holding them to her chest.
“Thank you SO MUCH YN!!!” she placed the papers in a drawer under the counter, “I could kiss you right now. What would I do without you?” 
Probably survive perfectly fine since you had no problem cutting me off after you and Sunghoon broke up. 
You shrugged with a smile, “Fail bio.” 
She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, probably. But I have you to help keep me in the loop!” 
You honestly hated how the two of you could go DAYS sometimes even WEEKS without talking or seeing each other yet she has no problem acting as if nothing ever happened. 
But she was all you had, so you played along with her. 
You dropped your backpack onto the floor, wondering if telling her the other thing was right or wrong. 
You decided to anyway. 
“I also saw Sunghoon the other day.” 
Her movements slowed and her smile faded, “Is that so?” 
You nodded, “We talked for a couple of minutes, but he had to go practice, so it was a short moment.” 
You could see the gears were turning in her brain, “Practice? Guess he was able to get back on the team after all. That’s good at least.” 
“He actually is figure skating now too, that’s where he was headed.” 
Your best friend’s eyes widened, “Wow, I did not see that one coming.” 
You agreed, “It was definitely not something I’d expected Park Sunghoon to do, but I guess it kinda suits him.” 
Your friend nodded, seeing how deep in thought she was. 
You wanted to ask her to speak her mind, but unfortunately, the two of you weren’t that close anymore. 
A couple more customers walked in, sending her back away from you. 
You stood from the seat, grabbing your things, giving her a smile and wave as you walked out. You only came to give her the notes she missed anyway. 
Usually, when she skips out of class she gets the notes from one of the boys she’s secretly messing around with. But every blue moon she asks you. 
You guessed it was the only way to keep in contact with you in some way. 
You quickly stepped into the coffee shop, brushing off the slight snow from your hair, ready to get a sip of your favorite coffee. 
The barista noticed you, giving you his famous thumbs-up, “Already on it YN!” 
You gave him a thumbs-up back. You were so happy you discovered this place, it became one of your comfort places to be. It’s quiet enough to do homework or read, the coffee is amazing and all the baristas know you and your order. What isn’t there to love?
“Fancy seeing you here again,” you whipped around, seeing Sunghoon sitting in your usual spot, a book in his hands and his iced coffee half empty on the table. 
Your brain spasmed, what was he doing here again?
You just nodded, “You’re in my spot.” 
Sunghoon shrugged, “I can move?” 
Well shit, now you feel bad. 
You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.” 
Sunghoon smiled, eyes flickering back down to his book. 
The barista called your name, turning your attention back to him, “Thank you, Taehyun.” 
His sharky smile warms your heart, “Always,” his eyes darted over to Sunghoon then back to you, “Do you know him?” 
You sighed, “Yes, he’s an old friend.” 
Taehyun nodded, his tongue sliding into his cheek, “He’s been here every day since the last time you were here.” 
You froze, narrowing your eyes, “Honestly?” 
Taehyun nodded again, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that he wasn’t some creep.” 
You smiled softly at him, “No need to worry. He’s harmless.” 
Taehyun gave you a half smile, then walked off to finish working. 
You sat down in front of Sunghoon, his eyes not leaving the page of his book. 
You cleared your throat, taking a sip of your coffee. 
Sunghoon glanced up for a second at your throat clearing, “Yes?” 
You cupped your hands around your coffee, “What?” 
Sunghoon sighed and closed his book, setting it on the table, “You only clear your throat like that when you have something to say.” 
Damn, does he remember the small details of you?
“You remember that?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, picking up his iced coffee, “YN, I’ve known you for almost, what? five years? You think I’d just forget everything?” 
Well, no…just didn’t think you’d care enough to remember. you didn’t date me after all. 
All you could do was shrug, “My barista told me you’ve been here every day,”
Sunghoon raised a brow as he sipped on his coffee, finishing it off, “Your barista?” 
“Not like that!” you snapped quietly, wishing you could jump over the table and tackle him, “I’m a regular here, Taehyun just happens to be the barista who always takes care of me.” 
Sunghoon mouthed out a “wow” and leaned back into the seat, “First name bases too?” 
“Sunghoon,” his name falling off your lips felt foreign, mostly since you were speaking to him, “Why are you here every day?” 
He thinned out his lips into a line, eyes looking down at his Converse, “Been looking for a good coffee shop to regular, and this one surprised me when I first came in here. You just so happened to be here the day I decided to try it.”
That sounds…completely true. This coffee shop is incredible. You don’t blame him for wanting to become a regular. It was all a coincidence. 
You sipped down your coffee, feeling the stare of his eyes, “Yes?” 
“So back to Taehyun being your barista,” 
You laughed, kicking your leg into his shin, “Stop!” 
Sunghoon’s fangs slipped out as he smiled. 
Sunghoon’s appearance in the coffee shop became more regular, just like he said. 
Taehyun knew his order by heart, just like yours, and would always have it ready the moment he saw Sunghoon walk in. 
You had to admit, it felt good having him back in your life. It felt like old times when you’d hang out when your best friend was too busy working. You three all used to be so close. 
Yet you didn’t have the heart to tell her you were even hanging out with Sunghoon again. It technically wasn’t even hanging out, you two just happened to sit, talk, and drink coffee together at your favorite coffee shop. 
Another week has flown by with Sunghoon making his appearance at the shop.
You laughed together over a book you both read, Sunghoon feeling Taehyun’s eyes on you. 
You stood up, “I’m heading to the bathroom,” 
Sunghoon nodded, his eyes darting to Taehyun, watching him as he watched you walk to the bathroom. A small sigh escaped Taehyun’s lips. 
Taehyun then made eye contact with him, and the look he was giving Sunghoon made him clench his fists. 
Your return to the table had Sunghoon relaxing, and Taehyun returning to work. 
Sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt so at home in your presence. His mind telling him to tell you the truth, that you deserved to know. But the moment you locked eyes with him and the corners of your lips curled into that precious smile, he couldn’t do it. 
“What’s up?” you asked, “You’re deep in thought?” 
“Ahh…” Sunghoon tried to collect his thoughts, then quickly smiled, settling on the topic change, “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” you thought about it, “I just have class, why?” 
“Come to my hockey practice tomorrow night.” 
That invite took you by surprise, “Huh?” 
Sunghoon smiled even more, leaning forward on the table, “Come watch my practice tomorrow. Please?”
You tried to find an excuse to get out of it, but nothing came to mind. How could you just show up to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s hockey practice?
“The guys would love to see you, I bet.” Sunghoon mentioning his friends only hit you in the heart harder, “Come on, YN, just like old times.” 
Without a second thought, you agreed. Not knowing exactly why, but feeling as if it would be okay. It was just hockey practice. 
He jumped up from the table, “I have to get to figure skating practice, is your phone number still the same?”
You nodded, heart beating faster at hearing he still had your phone number. 
With a jump away from the table and a small skip, he said, “I’ll text you the details!” 
Sunghoon twirled his hockey stick in hand, eyes darting to each entrance of the stadium.
Heeseung skated past, quickly stopping in front of him, eyes also following each entrance, “Brother, what are you looking at?”
Sunghoon snaps his attention at Heeseung, his mouth open to speak, but no words coming out. 
“He’s waiting for YN,” Jay says as he also skates past, skating a circle around them. 
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Dude.” 
Jay smirked, “Should’ve kept your mouth shut.” 
“Clearly, that’s the last time I tell you anything,” Sunghoon said, sliding his helmet over his head. 
Heeseung raised a brow, “Wait you’re speaking to YN again?” 
Sunghoon just nodded, “Yeah. We umm, ran into each other at a coffee shop.” 
“Yeah, “ran into each other”, we’ll call it that.” Jay teased, leaning forward on his hockey stick. 
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kick your stick from you and laugh when you hit the ice,” Sunghoon said with a snarky smile. 
“Woah now!” Jay said, holding his hand up, “You’re a figure skater now, can’t be talking like that anymore.” 
Sunghoon skated forward, Jay also scooted backward sticking his tongue out. 
Heeseung seemed to be the only one who was concerned, “How did the three of you make up?” 
Sunghoon awkwardly chuckled, “You mean the two of us…”
Heeseung looked at his friend confused, “You and—“
“No,” Sunghoon quickly shook his head, “We aren’t talking.” 
Heeseung just nodded, finally putting the pieces together, “Sorry for assuming that you rekindled with both of them.” 
Sunghoon swung his hockey stick around again, “Just YN. And from what I’ve noticed, the two of them aren’t really friends anymore.”
It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to figure it out. The way it used to be, his ex would always talk about you, and you would always talk about his ex. The two of you were inseparable. A package deal. With one you got the other. And the fact that you haven’t once brought her up over the last week that he’s started talking to you again, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she also pushed you away after the breakup. 
Heeseung just nodded, “Do you blame them?” Sunghoon just looked at him, not knowing what to say, “YN doesn’t know, does she?” 
Sunghoon shook his head, “No, and she won’t.” 
“Hoon-“
“I am not ready to tell her,” Sunghoon snapped, “I finally got one of my closest friends back, I don’t want to cross that bridge.” 
Heeseung sighed and nodded, “Okay man, just don’t get butt hurt when it backfires at you.” 
Sunghoon knew this secret could backfire on him, he wasn’t stupid. But it was worth the risk. 
“I’m going to see if she texted me,” he said, “Just in case she said he couldn’t make it.” 
Heeseung watched as Sunghoon skated off towards his gym bag. 
Dropping his gloves to the ice and carefully stepping off the ice, he sat down on the bench, opened his gym bag, and pulled out his phone, quickly finding your messages and seeing you’ve read his last text. 
Sunghoon felt stupid getting his hopes up. What did he think inviting you would do? 
I just wanted her back in my life again. 
He tossed his phone back in the bag and stepped back onto the ice, pulling his gloves back onto his hands. 
I’m so fucking pathetic. 
Sunghoon adjusted his gloves, now waiting for practice to start. 
Jay whistled at him, causing a glare to shoot from his eyes.
Jay tilted his head up, “Look.” 
Sunghoon turned back around, seeing you walking in, your arms wrapped tightly around you. 
He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, immediately skating in your direction. 
“You made it!” he said, sliding his helmet from his head. 
You smiled back, nodding, “Sorry that I am a bit late, my class got out later.” 
You walked up to the wall Sunghoon was now leaning against, his helmet resting on top of it. 
“You showed up, and that’s all that matters,” Sunghoon couldn’t hide how happy it made him that you were here right now. 
You nodded again, smiling wide back at him, “It’s cold as balls in here though!” 
Sunghoon pointed over to his gym bag, “I have my hockey varsity jacket in my bag, wear it if you get too cold.” 
“I am definitely going to wear it,” you shivered, “I forgot how cold it gets in here.” 
The memory of the last time he saw you replayed in his mind, it was during a hockey game. His team was a couple of points away from winning. Sunghoon and his ex were too busy fighting off on the side of the bleachers, her stomping away not wanting to finish the conversation. His eyes wandered over to you, the sad look you gave him broke his heart even more. Your heart was also breaking due to watching your closest friends tear each other apart. All Sunghoon could do was shove his hands into his hoodie pocket and walk out of the stadium. 
He watched as you walked over to his things, your hands immediately reaching for the jacket and sliding it onto your body. 
Oh fuck I am a goner. 
Sunghoon loved the way you looked in his jacket. The way it loosely hangs against your body. How cute it made you look. His heart dropped onto the ice. 
Your body started warming up a bit more, sliding your hands into his jacket pockets. Your eyes traced the other players on the ice. Jay and Heeseung waving at you. You waved back. Gosh, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw either of them. 
You’ve seen them out and about around the college, but not so personally like this. It’s been way too long. 
Sunghoon skated back over to his friends and teammates. 
“It’s weird seeing her again,” Jay said, watching you sit down, eyes wandering around the stadium, “Mostly seeing her without her twin at her hip. She looks really good though,” 
Jay was lucky Sunghoon was in a better mood than earlier, or else he’d be wiping the ice with Jay’s face, “Can we not talk about my ex, please, and she does look good. Eyes off.” 
Jay wanted to make a smart remark, but with a quick look at Sunghoon and then you, he decided to leave the teasing off the ice, giving him a nod, “Yeah, sorry man.” 
Their coach finally started practice. 
It went by in a flash. You waited outside the stadium for Sunghoon, his jacket still wrapped around your body. 
“Well, what did you think of our practice?” Sunghoon said, sneaking up on you, and giving you a little jolt. 
“It was very interesting, you played well.” 
Sunghoon walked closer to you, his hands reaching up to fix the collar of his jacket, his cold fingers brushing against your skin, “My jacket looks really good on you.” 
Your heart sank. 
Is he…flirting???
“Oh, shoot!” you tried to play it off as if you forgot, wanting to find an excuse for the blush on your face to go away after his comment, reaching to take the jacket off, “Here, I forgot I was still wearing it.” 
Sunghoon grabbed your hands and shoved them back at your side, “YN, keep it.” 
“But—“ 
Sunghoon interrupted, “It’s okay! I promise! Just keep it for now, okay? I have another jacket I can wear.” 
You nodded, feeling your body getting hot from his hands still touching yours. 
Why are you getting so bothered??? You’ve known him for years. Why is every little thing he’s doing affecting you???
“Anyways,” he said, finally letting go of your hands, “We have a game this weekend, you’ll come right?” 
You wouldn’t mind going, it could be an excuse to get you out of your apartment for once and not just sit at the coffee shop either. 
“Yeah, I’ll come.”
Sunghoon smiled, his eyes darting to the ground to try and hide just how big he was smiling, “I’ll save you a ticket.” 
You walked into the shop, giving Taehyun a smile and wave. Giving you the normal thumbs up. 
You dropped your backpack to the floor at your normal table and slumped down into the seat with a sigh. 
“Rough day?” Sunghoon asked, his yellow highlighter moving across his textbook. 
You nodded, “I forgot to set my alarms last night, so I woke up late and got to class late. On top of that I had to take double the notes because…” you stopped yourself, not wanting to bring your best friend's name into the mix. 
Sunghoon stopped highlighting, he didn’t even have to hear her name to know what you were going to say, his eyes slowly rising to meet yours, “You’re still taking notes for her?” 
You just shrugged, “Maybe…” 
“YN,” he dropped his highlighter into the textbook, “You need to stop doing that.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Mostly because you knew he was right. She was just using you at this point. 
Taehyun interrupted your thoughts by setting your coffee down in front of you, “Tae! I could have gotten it from you.” 
His cute sharky smile came out, “Don’t worry about it, I don’t ever get to bring the coffee to you. Plus I needed to get away from behind the counter.” 
You smiled up at him, “Thank you.” 
Taehyun rested his hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, “It’s no problem at all, YN.” 
Sunghoon clenched his fists under the table, eyes burning holes into his hand that was touching you. 
As Taehyun walked away, he locked eyes with Sunghoon as if to say “Your move now, buddy.” 
Oh, I’ll play your game, Taehyun. 
“He totally has a crush on you.” Sunghoon spat out. 
You softly giggled, “Who? Tae? No,” you giggled again, taking a sip of your coffee, “He’s just a good friend.” 
Sunghoon rubbed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes darting back to Taehyun who was now back behind the counter, “I can see it in the way he looks at you.” 
You rolled your eyes. He sounds jealous. 
You glanced up at him, seeing how he kept his eyes on Taehyun. 
Oh, he’s…actually jealous??? No. It couldn’t be. He’s still in love with his ex.
You shook the thoughts from your head, deciding to change the subject, “Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 
Sunghoon’s eyes made their way back to you, his face relaxing and a small smile formed, “Yes, you’re still coming…right?” 
You nodded, “I wouldn’t miss it,” you took another sip of your coffee, “Wasn’t able to see you play back then, so I’m excited to see you play now.” 
Hearing you say that warmed his heart. Knowing you’ll be in the crowd cheering for him and only him. He had to make sure he was on his ‘a game’ tomorrow. 
“Make sure to wear my jacket tomorrow,” Sunghoon gave you a wink, picking his highlighter back up and continuing where he left off. 
You giggled, “Why? What will your jacket do? Bring good luck?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, stretching the highlighter across the words on the textbook, “It has an S.H. and my last name on the back,” he glanced back up at you, “And you know, yeah, you wearing my jacket will bring good luck. You’ll be my good luck charm.” 
Sunghoon took notice of the slight blush on your cheeks, his smile growing more as he looked back to his textbook. 
God, she’s so cute. 
You tried to slow your heart rate. Why is he making you feel like this? 
“It’s getting kinda late,” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat? Then I can walk you to your apartment?”
You nodded. 
You weren’t sure what these butterflies in your stomach meant, but it made you feel guilty for even having them. 
It was game day and your nerves were all tied together in a knot. 
You took one last look at your outfit in your mirror, fingers twisting in the belt loops of your ripped skinny jeans, pulling them up further above your hips. 
Your college’s hockey team t-shirt had a small hole at the bottom of the shirt, which was to be expected. This was an old shirt and you haven’t worn it since the last game you attended…the night Sunghoon pushed you out of his life. 
Your black high-top vans looked like they’ve seen better days, but looked good with the outfit. 
Grabbing a hair tie from your vanity, you pulled your long hair back, wrapping the tie around it, just to pull it out right after.  
You tried different hairstyles, not liking a single one. 
Why do I even care how my hair looks? 
You settled for a ponytail, deciding it’s what matched the outfit better. 
The last final piece was Sunghoon’s jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. You turned around in the mirror, glancing back to see his initials on the back. 
“You’ll be my good luck charm.” 
You caught yourself smiling at the memory, bringing the hems of the jacket up to your nose, breathing in the smell. 
It still smelt like him, even after you’ve had it for the last couple of days. The familiar smell of blackberry and floral filled your senses. 
His scent brought you comfort, the knot of nerves unraveling and disappearing. 
While the nerves found their way out, other feelings crept their way in. 
Your heart raced faster, thinking about the smile on Sunghoon’s face he’d have when he saw you. 
The more thoughts of him that flooded your brain, the more guilty you felt. 
He’s your best friend’s ex…you can’t be thinking about and getting so giddy over him. 
You slapped your hands to your face, hoping it would be enough to kick those feelings out. 
Unfortunately, they didn’t. 
You sat down at your vanity, pulling open one of the drawers, revealing a photo booth picture strip of yourself, Sunghoon, and your best friend. 
You held the fragile paper in your hands, staring at each set of photos one by one. Eyes locking onto Sunghoon. 
You didn’t feel this way about him back then, so why now all of a sudden does he have your stomach tied in knots? 
His smile in the photos sent your heart racing. The way he was looking at your best friend, you couldn’t help but wish he looked at you like that. 
You quickly shoved the photo strip back into the drawer, slamming it shut. 
You stood from the chair, grabbed your phone and keys, and walked out of your room. 
By the time you showed up at the stadium, the opposing team and Sunghoon’s team lined up on each side of the rink doing their warmups. 
Your eyes searched for him, seeing the number 23 skating by quickly, him swinging the hockey stick, sending the puck flying into the goal. 
Even though it was just a practice shot, you clapped anyway. 
Sunghoon skated back into line, eyes wandering the crowd until he found you. Your smile sends butterflies in his stomach fluttering about. 
God, you look so good right now. The way your hair was pulled back, the way your thighs peeked out from the rips of your jeans, and how perfect his jacket looked on you. 
Sunghoon never let his ex wear that jacket, it was so special to him, so much that only he wanted to wear it. But it was so different with you. 
He gave you a wave, letting you know that he does indeed, know you’re here. 
The game finally started, and the butterflies did not calm down one bit. He had to do well in this game. He couldn’t disappoint you. 
Heeseung patted his back, “Calm down buddy, you’re our best player. Can’t have you tapping out on us.” 
Jay agreed, “This isn’t even the first game of the season, what’s got you so worked up all of a sudden?” 
“YN is here,” Niki, one of the only freshmen on the team, teased. 
Sunghoon shot the younger one a glare, “Brother, you don’t want to tease me right now.” 
Niki smirked, “Man, I know enough about your life and I barely have been on the team.” 
Jay slapped Sunghoon’s shoulder, “Just ignore the kid, he’s just a little silly.” 
Niki agreed, “Just a little bit.” 
Sunghoon waved his teammates off, “I am fine, my nerves have nothing to do with YN being here.” 
His friends looked at him with telling faces, they knew he was lying. Knew he was full of shit. But deciding to let it go. 
The game went on, each of the teams scoring left and right. 
You sat on the edge of your seat, hands clasped together at your chest. There were five minutes left on the clock, your team was only a point ahead. 
Your eyes followed Sunghoon on the ice, you could tell by his body language he was stressed. The way he stretched his arms out over his hockey stick behind his neck was enough to tell how absent-minded he was in this moment, the only thing he could focus on was getting one last point. Swinging his stick back down onto the ice, slightly bending over, ready for anything. 
Jay passed the puck to Niki, pushing the puck across the rink, Sunghoon positioned himself, screaming for Niki to pass the puck towards him.  
Niki passed it quickly to him. Sunghoon grabbed the puck, pushing his feet and legs as quickly as he could against the ice, the only thing on his mind was to keep the puck against the stick.
As he neared the goal, the goalie prepared himself for Sunghoon to make a shot. 
Sweat dripped down the side of his face, hands gripping tighter on the stick as he lifted it from the ice and puck. 
You stood to your feet, hands hovering over your chest, gripping at the fabric of your shirt. 
Sunghoon swung the stick using all the force possible and hit the puck, watching as the black disc flew across the ice. 
The world seemed to go in slow motion for Sunghoon, his eyes wide as the anticipation of waiting for the puck to reach the goalie, it sliding gracefully between the goalie's legs, the guy barely missing to stop it. 
Sunghoon pivoted, stopping his motion on the ice. His eyes locked onto the puck, confirming it hit the net. 
He turned his body towards his teammates, the world around him going back to normal speed. The crowd cheered, and his teammates surrounded him, slapping their hands against his chest, shoulders, and back. The clock hit its final second, the buzzer sounding. The game was over. We won. 
We won..!!
Sunghoon started screaming and cheering with his teammates, hands slapping them as they continued to slap him. 
You rushed down to the wall, the upper half of your body leaning over it, cupping your hands to your mouth, “Sunghoon!!!” 
He didn’t hear you over the screams of his mates and fans. But it felt as if he knew you were waiting for him. 
His eyes found you and started pushing past his teammates, sliding his helmet off and handing it and his stick off to Heeseung. 
Using what was left of his leg strength, he pushed himself towards you quickly. 
He stretched his arms up in the air, shouting, “WE DID IT!!” 
You couldn’t stop your smile from falling, not when Sunghoon looked as happy as he did at that moment. His fangs were on full display from how wide he was smiling. 
His body crashed against the wall, his gloved hands wrapping around your waist, connecting his torso to yours. 
His wet sweaty hair tickled your cheek as he pulled you into a hug. The first hug you’ve received from him since…well the breakup. 
You patted his back, leaning your head against his, “You played so well! I am so proud of you!” 
You’ve never gotten to tell him how exactly proud of him you were. For all the years you’ve known him, he’s always given his one hundred percent, but because of the past circumstances, you weren’t able to voice how proud you were of him, your best friend wouldn’t have allowed it. 
Hearing you tell him how well he did was enough to risk everything. It did something so deep to his heart that he couldn’t hide it anymore. 
It’s now or never Park Sunghoon, just do it. 
“I told you. I told you that you were my good luck charm,” he whispered in your ear, brushing his cheek against yours as he moved his head up. Brushing his nose against yours softly before moving in, pressing his lips against yours quickly. 
So fast that you didn’t have time to process it as his hands left your waist and he was skating backward away from you. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed locked with yours. 
Your fingertips touched your lips, your ears blocking out all sound as the rest of your senses focused on the man in front of you. 
He kissed you…Oh my god, he kissed you!!! 
Sunghoon gave you a wink and said “Meet me by my car!” then turned back around, skating to his teammates, all of them huddling together. 
He pressed you up against his front door, using your body to completely shut it, his fingers flipping the lock as his tongue invaded your mouth, your brain going fuzzy. 
You met him at his car after the game and convinced you to have dinner with him and the team. 
You sat beside him in the booth at this fancy diner, his arm was wrapped around your shoulder, his fingers softly rubbing against your arm. Once the food arrived at the table, his arm went from being behind you to his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers sliding between the rips of your jeans, squeezing the plush skin. 
His touch was driving you crazy, and with your new emotions towards him, it made his contact with your skin make you hot and bothered. 
Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you liked it. Liked the attention he was giving you. 
Liked it so much that you didn’t even think twice when he drove right past the street of your apartment building and pulled into his apartment building. 
He held both your hands tightly, his smile so bright as he guided you up the stairs to his apartment. Soft laughs leaving his lips at just the thought of being with you. 
He was dying to kiss you again. Like properly kiss you. 
He wanted to kiss you so bad that the moment you were inside his apartment, his hands and body were pressed against yours, using his weight to push you against his door. Lips connecting to yours as if he were running out of oxygen and your lips were the sole source of air. 
His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your torso, fingers grazing against your breasts and up to your neck, hands cupping your jaw. 
You kissed him back forcefully, pushing your tongue between his lips, rubbing the muscle against his own, mixing your saliva. 
You tasted so sweet to him. He couldn’t get enough. 
Sunghoon went to pull away, wanting to attach his lips to your neck, but you weren’t ready for his lips to leave yours. 
You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, biting a bit harder than you expected. 
Sunghoon hissed out in pleasure, rolling his hips against yours, his clothed hard length pressing at your heat. 
You released his lip, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pinning you against the door, his lips attaching themself to your neck, “Keep acting up baby and I just might have to punish you.” 
His words sent chills down your spine as he left open mouth kisses on your neck. Your imagination running wild at what these punishments would be, but being too afraid to test his limits. 
Sunghoon loved hearing the soft moans escaping your pretty little mouth. It was music to his ears. 
He placed his leg right between yours, using it to spread them further apart, giving him more access to press his cock against you. 
You were shaking, wanting to completely feel him against you, skin to skin. 
“Hoonie,” you whispered in his ear, “Please,” 
Sunghoon reached down, cupping the back of your thighs and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him. His hands sliding to cup your ass, lips finding yours again. 
“Say less princess,” he mumbled against your lips as he carried you to his bedroom. 
He laid you down gently on his bed, his right hand stayed on your thigh, squeezing it tightly to keep it wrapped around him as his left hand flew to his shirt, fingers working their magic at the buttons. 
You became impatient, sending your hands to help undress him. 
You slid the fabric off his shoulders and down his arms, your fingers feeling every muscle as they traced down his skin and off his body. 
Your eyes took a moment to appreciate his body. You already knew he worked out, but good lord was his toned, buff body beautiful. 
Sunghoon kissed you again, his hands sliding his jacket off your body then finding their way under your shirt and up and over your head. 
He worked with the button of your jeans as you worked with his. 
He slid his jeans and underwear down together, leaving him completely bare to you.
His fingers looped between your jeans and panties, lifting your hips up as he pulled them off your body. 
“Fuck, YN,” he moaned out, hands snaking underneath you to unclasp your bra, your breasts falling to their natural place once the material was on the floor. His eyes looked your bare body up and down, before laying his body on top of yours, “You’re so beautiful.” 
Your fingers tangled in his hair when he kissed you again, your tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm, his hand sliding down your body and stopping at your thigh to pull it back over his waist. 
Sunghoon was completely turned on just by the skin-to-skin contact, by just feeling your pretty legs wrapped around him. 
He rolled his hips, rubbing his dick against your clit, his hand fumbling at his nightstand drawer for his box of condoms. 
You woke up that next morning with the sun shining through his bedroom window. 
Sunghoon had his head on your chest still fast asleep. 
His arm was wrapped around your waist, the bedsheets were tangled up between yours and his legs. His leg hung out from the sheets and they hung at his hips, his bare back exposed. 
Your heart raced at the site in front of you. 
Did this actually happen?? I am not dreaming?
Your hand touched his bicep, fingers softly moving up and down his arm. 
Sunghoon moved his head up, tucking it in your neck, arm tightening around you. He was still fast asleep. 
Guilt washed over you once again. You just had sex with your best friend's ex-boyfriend. She would kill you both if she knew what happened last night. 
Did you regret it? Absolutely not. The sex was perfect. Sunghoon is perfect. But that still didn’t stop the thoughts that it shouldn’t have happened. 
Would you do it again? Regardless of these thoughts? Also yes. 
Your relationship with Sunghoon was different now. You had deep feelings for him. And the fact that he kept inviting you over, inviting you to his practices and games, asking to see you after classes, and randomly showing up at your front door, proved enough to you that it wasn’t about the sex that night, that his feelings also ran deep for you too. 
Your coffee shop days were more intimate, instead of sitting across from each other, you’d sit beside each other. Hands locking together as you’d drink your coffees. 
He would be waiting outside your apartment door every single morning to drive you to class. 
You would cheer him on from the bleachers at every practice, and have dinner with him afterwards. 
The sex got more intense the more comfortable you both got. You saw a whole new side of Sunghoon in the bedroom. A side you never thought you’d ever see or even thought about seeing until recently. 
He explored every inch of your body, his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. Shoving his fingers in your mouth as he pounded into you from behind. Bruises were left on your hips from how his fingers would grip your skin. 
You got more bold too. From being his little submissive princess to a dominant queen. The way you’d jerk your hand up and down his cock sending his head flying back, body shaking from your touch as you straddled him. 
Sunghoon became a part of your daily life, just like he was all that time ago. 
You showed up to every game wearing his jacket, being that good luck charm you knew you were to him. Everything felt right.
Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down onto your couch with him, “Babe, cuddle me! I am touch starved!” 
You rolled your eyes at him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip, “We just had sex, yet you’re still touch-starved?” 
“Obviously!” he nuzzled his face at the nape of your neck, hands gripping the hem of your shirt, “Let’s have sex again.” 
“Hoonie,” you giggled at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck, “You have practice in thirty minutes, you need to get ready soon.” 
Sunghoon groaned against your neck, but he knew you were right. 
Sunghoon went to propose skipping practice tonight but got distracted by your phone ringing, eyes darting over to it, being the nosey guy that he is, and seeing…his ex’s name on the caller ID. 
His smile faded, why would she be calling you?
You sighed at seeing your best friend's name on your phone, finger-hitting the decline. 
Calling her your best friend seemed pointless now. Right before things kicked off between you and Sunghoon, she found another boy toy to mess around with, completely ignoring you. You’ve also tried many times to hang out with her, to go by and see her at her job, to invite her over to do homework, to try and just hang with her when Sunghoon was busy, yet all she did was ignore you. So the fact she’s hitting you up now only means she needs something from you. And to say you were exhausted from it would be an understatement. 
Maybe it was karma for keeping your relationship with Sunghoon a secret from her. But you also knew you couldn’t tell her. At least not right now. 
You felt bad declining the call, deciding to shoot her a quick text saying you were busy in the shower and couldn’t answer the call just for her to reply saying it was fine, but was wanting the notes from class today and then sent a smiley face :) 
Sunghoon shook his head, “Please don’t.” 
You set your phone down, not responding to her, “Don’t what?” you knew the answer, but tried to play dumb anyways. 
“YN, stop playing this game with her, she’s using you.” 
You knew it was true, but hearing it come from his mouth didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 
Sunghoon bit his lips in a way to keep himself calm. He hated that she was doing this to you. He saw firsthand how badly the breakup affected you too. You lost both of your best friends because of it. But the shitty part was you weren’t supposed to lose her, but you did anyway. She was supposed to stay by your side but didn’t. 
She abandoned you. Even after she promised him she wouldn’t. 
The secrets he wishes he could tell you in hopes of you cutting her off for good, but he couldn’t break that trust with her, even if she deserved it. 
The only thing he could do was try and convince you in other ways. 
“Baby,” he whispered, “Look at me.” 
You did, shifting yourself in his lap to face him. 
He tucked your hair behind your ears, “You deserve better than that. I know you love and care for her, and that she’s your best friend, but this friendship is toxic. All it is doing is hurting you.” 
You looked away from his chocolate eyes and to the floor, “I know.” 
Sunghoon pulled your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look back at him, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore, not just because of her, but because of me too. We both did some damage to you and I have to live with that. I am so fucking lucky you let me come back in your life. And well, I am not saying to completely cut her out of your life,” even though that is what he’s wanting, “but don’t do things like this for her anymore.” 
You nodded. He was right. The only reason you kept doing things for her no matter what they were was to keep her in your life. You kept holding onto a rope that was torn a long time ago. 
“Promise me,” he asked, holding up his pinky finger, “Please.” 
You wrapped your pinky tightly with his, sealing the promise. 
It was the final game of the season, if the boys win this game they move on to the championship. 
Sunghoon stood with you by the wall, his hands trembling in his gloves. 
He was nervous, scared even, it was written all over his face. 
“Sunghoon,” you saying his name always sounded so beautiful to his ears. He looks over to you, giving a nervous smile, “It’ll be okay. You’re one of the best damn players on this team. The championship is calling your team's name!” 
You could only hope your words were reaching him, helping make him feel better. 
Which it did. His hand stopped trembling just from your smile. You were his good luck charm after all. 
He slid his hand from his glove, cupping the side of your face, “I am the luckiest man alive to have you.” 
You leaned into his hand, his thumb rubbing against your skin. 
His couch blew the whistle for warm-ups to start. 
“Gimme a good luck kiss princess,” he said pulling you closer to him, “It’ll give me strength.” 
You giggled against his lips and pouted as he skated away, giving him a thumbs up. 
Little did you know, your “best friend” was sitting in the bleachers, watching the entire thing. 
The game went in a flash, Sunghoon once again scoring the winning goal. 
You jumped from your seat and pressed against the wall, arms stretched out and waiting for Sunghoon to embrace himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in celebration of his win. 
You stood at the end of the bleachers, eyes staring off down the hallway that led to the locker rooms, heart racing at wanting to see Sunghoon again, to be able to give him a proper hug for his win. 
“OMG! You came to the game too?!” 
Your heart sank at her voice, your friend connecting her shoulder to yours as she stood beside you. 
Your body tensed, “Y-Yeah, it was their last game so I came to support them.” 
“Hmmm,” she hummed, her hands flying to Sunghoon’s jacket, “Isn’t this Hoon’s?” She forced you around, seeing his name printed on the back. 
She knows she’s got to know.
She hummed again, “Why do you have his jacket, YN?” 
You shrugged, leaning back against the bleacher, “I was cold and he offered it to me I guess.” 
She crossed her arms, “He never let me borrow it, weird.” 
“I was freezing,” you tried to play it off, “You know how cold I can get sometimes.” 
She nodded, “That’s true,” her eyes darted down the hallway, “Since when did you and Hoon start hanging out again?” 
She definitely knows. 
You knew it was a matter of time before she found out, but you didn’t think it would be like this. 
You opened your mouth to speak, only for her face to light up with excitement and her hands clapping. 
The boys finally were leaving the locker room, “Here come our winners!” she said. 
Sunghoon was with Jay, the two of them doing their handshake and walking in separate directions, Sunghoon’s smile fading after looking in your direction. 
“OH EM GEE!!!” she squealed, grabbing your hand and rushing you both to meet Sunghoon halfway, “You are such a star Hoonie!” 
She wrapped her arms around Sunghoon’s neck, but he was quick to pull her off of him, “What are you doing here?” 
You were surprised how calm he was. 
“Am I not allowed to come and support you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 
“You lost that right when we broke up.” he scoffed, “Why are you actually here?” 
She pouted, pulling you to her side, “I missed you guys, wanted us to rekindle and be a trio again.” 
Sunghoon could smell the bullshit radiating out of her mouth. 
Does this bitch think I am stupid?
“Rekindle?” he chuckled, “Rekindle what? Exactly?” oh he was pissed now, “Explain yourself. Now.” 
She let go of your arm, taking a step closer to him, “I miss you, Hoon.” She reached to touch his face, but he caught her arm with his hand, shoving it away from him. 
“Don’t touch me.” 
You didn’t know what to do or what to say, this fight didn’t involve you, it was something they had to settle. 
“Hoon,” she begged, “I want you back, please.” 
Sunghoon took a step back away from her, “Cut the bullshit.” 
She rolled her eyes, “What bullshit?!”
“I am in a relationship,” he spat out, “I am happy.” 
A laugh escaped her mouth, a laugh you’ve never heard her do before, “I know, I am not stupid,” she took a step back, wrapping her arms around you, “You’re fucking our sweet YN.” 
Sunghoon’s grip on his duffle bag tightened and his jaw locked. What the fuck was she trying to pull here?
She smiled, knowing she got you both where she wanted you to be, “The fact that you’re both quiet speaks volumes, lemme tell ya.” 
“What the fuck do you want?” he said through his locked jaw. 
“I want to know why,” she pulled a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I want to know why you both betrayed me like this. Why my ex-boyfriend decided it was okay to fuck my best friend, and why my best friend decided it was okay to fuck my ex.” 
Oh, she’s going there? Game on.
Sunghoon chuckled, “Best friend? Best friends don't abandon each other!”
“That’s rich coming from you,” she retorted.
“You abandoned her!!” he snapped. 
“So did you!!” she snapped back, “You walked away just as much as I did!” 
“I walked away because I cared about you! I cared about your feelings! You promised you’d stay by her side, not leave her to fight alone and use her for your own personal gain, that’s not a friendship!” 
“Oh, here we go,” she laughed, “It’s always about YN.” 
You wanted to speak up, to ask them what that meant, but before you could, Sunghoon was reaching for you. 
He’s heard enough. He’s HAD enough. He couldn’t let this conversation continue, not when she might spill everything. 
He pulled you to his side, pushing you in the direction towards the exit door, “YN, baby, let’s go.” 
“How long did you think you could hide? Hmm?” 
Both you and Sunghoon stopped walking. 
“I’ve known for a while now,” you turned and faced her, waiting for her to finish, “You think I wouldn’t notice? Wouldn't notice either of your cars at each other's apartments?” 
Sunghoon laughed, “So you’re stalking us now? That’s so fucking low.” 
“How could I not? Not after I saw the two of you leaving that diner downtown a while ago,” 
She’s known since the beginning.
“I thought maybe, at first, you two were just hanging out again. I minded my business. But then I thought, hmm, I should surprise visit YN. And I bet you could imagine my surprise when I pulled up to her apartment and saw your car parked there and her riding your dick on her couch.” your face flushed, embarrassed, “Maybe next time make sure your blinds are closed before fucking in the living room.” 
Sunghoon sighed, pulling you closer to him. He felt like shit because of all this happening to you. 
“This doesn’t excuse your shitty stalking behavior,” Sunghoon said. 
She shrugged, “I only caught you by coincidence at first, the second time surprised me too. The rest I had to ask around campus to find out.” 
Sunghoon was getting more pissed by the second, “YN doesn’t deserve this!!” 
“You’re so right!” she clapped her hands, “She does deserve better friends, I know. We were so shitty to her. But you know what she also deserves? The truth.” 
The…truth?
Sunghoon shook his head, “No, let’s go,” he tried pushing you toward the exit again, he wasn’t ready for you to hear what she was about to say. 
You forced Sunghoon off you, taking a few steps back towards her, “What truth do I deserve to know?” 
Mostly since Sunghoon seemed so set on me leaving just now. 
Your friend smirked, “The truth about the reason why we broke up in the first place.” 
Sunghoon snapped her name, “Keep your fucking mouth shut!” 
You look back at him, “What is so goddamn secretive?” 
Sunghoon sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor. 
You looked back at her, “Well??” 
“The reason we broke up was because of you.” she crossed her arms over her chest, eyes darting at Sunghoon. 
“Because of me?” You couldn’t wrap your head around why, “W-what did I do?” 
“You didn’t do anything, YN,” Sunghoon finally said. 
“Then…why…” 
“Because he’s in love with you,” you stood there frozen, “He confessed to me a few months before we broke up on how deeply in love with you he was.” she said snarky, “That he caught feelings for you early on into our relationship, but kept it hidden all those years until he couldn’t. The guilt ate him up. Plus I caught him practically eye fucking you at one of the last parties we all attended together.” 
You looked back at Sunghoon, his eyes glossed over. He’s been in love with you the entire time you’ve known him? 
“It’s truly sad, isn’t it?” your friend continued, “The night we fought, was me making him promise to never come near you again. Guess it worked for a while.” 
“Why would you promise that!” You yelled at him, “Why would you even agree to that?!” 
“Because I still cared about her!” Sunghoon shook his head, “I wanted to respect her wishes, I wanted to respect you! You had no feelings towards me whatsoever, and after the last couple shitty months of my relationship with her, I wanted you to heal and find peace with losing me, had I known she would also walk away from you, I would have never let you go.” 
“Why did you stay with her as long as you did if you wanted me?” It was a shitty question to ask, but you had to know. 
“Because I was already a shitty person for falling in love with my girlfriend’s best friend. I didn’t want to hurt either of you. So I kept my feelings hidden until they eventually overflowed to the point I couldn’t contain it.” 
With tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him, fists hitting his chest, “Why would you leave me then?! I needed you!” you cried it all out, releasing the frustration, and he just took it, “Do you know how lonely I was when you left? How terrible I felt watching you walk away that night? I lost part of my soul.” 
Sunghoon pulled you to him, “Baby I know and I am so fucking sorry I did that to you.” 
You cried into his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. Too many emotions were fighting you at all once. You were the sole reason your best friends broke up, how could you not feel like shit?
You pushed yourself off him, turning back towards your friend, “What is your excuse for leaving me?” 
Her facial expression tightened, “How could I have stayed? Every time I looked at you all I could remember was the fact that my boyfriend wanted you, not me.” 
Fair enough. But that was also such a shotty excuse. 
“Guess our friendship didn’t mean shit to you,” you scoffed, “A boy meant more to you than I did. Meant more than our lifetime of friendship.” 
She had nothing to say to that, just thinned her lips in a line, looking away. 
“I’ve heard enough,” you softly said, “Take me home, please Sunghoon.” 
He nodded, extending out his hand for you to take it, and you did. The two of you walking away.
“Enjoy my seconds, YN.” 
Oh, she did not.
Sunghoon beat you to running his mouth, “At least YN pleases me. You should see the mess she makes of me since you want to stalk us so bad.” 
You bit the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing, was their sex life that bad?
Her face turned red you could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears, “Go to hell Sunghoon! It’s where you belong!” 
He chuckled, “Gladly, I’d give up every piece of heaven for YN.” 
She rolled her eyes, it was always about you. It’s always been you for him. 
“Oh and by the way,” Sunghoon added, “I know you cheated on me multiple times with Mark from calculus, way before I confessed my feelings for YN. So us breaking up wasn’t just because of her. Suck a dick.” 
Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you, a smirk on his face as you both listened to her yelling more nonsense. 
He drove you home and walked you into your apartment. 
“I really am sorry, YN.” Sunghoon wrapped you into his arms, “I never wanted to hurt you.” 
You cupped his face, thumbs wiping the tears that fell, “Don’t ever apologize, okay? You were caught in a situation.” 
“It’s no excuse,” he took your hands in his, “I love you, I always have. I shouldn’t have walked away.” 
You just nodded, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his nose, “I love you, Park Sunghoon. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters.”
It was true. He was so lucky to have you. To finally have you after waiting for you for so long. 
Thank god he decided to try that coffee shop out. 
“Was sex with her really that bad?” you asked, a giggle escaping. 
He laughed too, “Yeah, never came once.” 
“I guess that means I win in that department too since I make such a mess outta you,” 
Sunghoon bit his lip, sliding his hands to squeeze your waist, “Keep talking like that and I’ll ruin you.” 
You pressed a quick kiss to his lips then escaped his arms, running towards your bedroom, “Can’t ruin me if I make a mess of you first.” 
Sunghoon chased after you, his heart pounding at the happiness on your face. 
God, he really was the luckiest man alive.
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𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆; 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒃𝒚
𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; tommy notices your pregnancy before you do
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the night was calm, the moon casting a soft silvery glow through the curtains of the room you and tommy shared. as the streets outside murmured with the remnants of the day, you lay in bed, shifting and turning. the sheets rustled as you tried to find a comfortable position, your restlessness a silent symphony in the dimly lit room.
lying next to you, tommy couldn’t help but notice. his gaze followed the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers absently brushed against the fabric of your shy pink nightie.
after a moment, tommy propped himself up on an elbow, his brow furrowing with a careful mixture of annoyance and concern. you glance at your husband, eyes meeting his icy ones in the quiet of the night.
“can’t sleep?” he asked softly, his voice a low murmur that carried a depth of understanding for your situation.
you sighed, a hint of frustration tugging at your tender lips. “it’s like i can’t get comfortable. oh tommy, i’ve been tossing and turning all night.”
tommy reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against yours. “something botherin’ you, angel?”
you hesitated, gaze holding his for a moment longer before you shook your head. “i just … can’t get comfortable,” you whine, pouting your lips.
he opens his arms for you and you lean into his comfortable embrace. albeit, it was much easier to feel lulled with him beside you. it was a delicacy that had become so fleeting within a few months of marriage. usually he'd come to bed after you'd fallen asleep, and woke before you started to stir.
as the silence lingered, tommy’s gaze softened, his eyes tracing the soft slopes of your face. in that moment, a realization seemed to settle over him, piece by piece, like a puzzle coming together.
“love,” he began slowly, his voice a mix of tenderness and curiosity. “i’ve been noticing things lately. changes.”
you met his gaze, your curiosity piqued. “changes?”
tommy’s fingers brushed against your flushed cheek, his touch gentle as he spoke. “you’ve been feeling sick over certain smells, right? complaining about the food in the kitchen?”
you blinked, clearly taken aback by his sudden but astute observations. “that’s true.”
“ and i’ve noticed you’ve been tired. more than usual,” he continued, his thumb tracing circles on your skin
you nodded slowly, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dawning in your eyes. “i’ve been struggling to keep my eyes open lately.”
tommy paused, his gaze searching yours before he spoke again, his voice softer. “and there’s the restlessness. tossing and turning all night.”
your breath caught as the realization dawned on you, and you met his gaze with a swirling mixture of emotions.
“tommy, what are you…?”
you trail off as his fingers trace your silky nightie that had once fit just right around your curves but was now becoming snug around your waist. his fingers slid down to cup your gently rounded tummy, his touch light and deliberate.
“your hips,” he said, his voice a hushed murmur. “they’re different now. rounder. as well as your tummy…”
you blushed, your nervous laughter a mixture of shyness and surprise. “oh, so you’ve noticed that?”
you'd figured it had something to do with the way you've been indulging lately. you were thankful your husband chose not to mention your newfound voracious appetite. you were ashamed of how unladylike your eating habits had become, especially on nights when your husband didn't accompany you to dinner.
his gaze held yours, his smile tender as he continued to trace over your softer tummy. “couldn’t very well miss it now, could i?”
tommy’s thumb brushed against your knuckles, his touch a reassuring anchor once he sees you flush at his teasing. “don’t worry, angel, it suits you.”
you smile shyly and bury your face into his shoulder. a moment passes and tommy speaks again.
his fingers brushed against your stomach as he spoke, “i think i might know what’s going on, love.”
a beat of silence passes, then, you realize what your husband could be hinting at.
"yeah?" you breathe, staring into your husband's eyes to confirm your suspicions. you'd figured that you might've been carrying when your monthly had failed to arrive for a second month in a row, but it didn't quite register as a concern until tommy had started to notice.
"i think you're expecting." his words are tender, both of you sharing a moment of silent revaluation.
"tommy..."
you hadn't been trying for a baby, though neither of you were opposed to the idea of children. you'd discussed it on your wedding night, and tommy had promised that he'd give you as many children as you wanted under the humble request that he'd be able to have a year to spend with just his wife before adding any new additions.
“i understand if you’re not happy about this, i know you said you—”you begin to ramble, but get cut off by your husband pressing a stern finger over your lips to prevent any more anxious words from waltzing out.
“shh, love,” he murmurs, “‘m happy about it.” your can feel your eyes fill with tears at his words. mood swings already, you think, how did he notice before you did?
“truly?” you look up into his eyes to see a familiar tenderness, reserved only for you and now apparently your child.
he sighs happily and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.“truly.”
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catcze · 7 months
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⠀「 Giving them random kisses (part 2) 」 
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
「 FEAT : 」 Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Lyney, Kaveh, Alhaitham (separate) x GN! reader
「 ### : 」 fluff n romance ! Some heavy kissing, but tbh nothing that warrants much more of a warning. Kaveh's is... a little sad, but it ends well ♡
A long-overdue part two !! Listen guys pls pls pls dont let this flop i actually efforted on this one haksdj 💔
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⠀「 WRIOTHESLEY 」
He's initially pretty surprised, but he recovers quickly and smoothly.
He hasn't had many people showering him with affection, so it's a bit of a learning curve with you being so sweet to him.
Does his best to reciprocate though! He doesn't want you feeling like he loves you any less.
He ends up liking the surprise kisses more than he could have ever thought ♡
"Hey Wrio," you murmur from where you sit on his lap. Your boyfriend is engrossed with the documents in his hand, though one arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.
Wriothesley doesn't look up when you call his name. His eyes are still trained on the fine print, though he does acknowledge you with the tilt of his head and a, "Hm?"
You take his momentary distraction to reach up and pull his face down so you can reach it and plant a small, sweet kiss on his cheek. It's delicate and chaste, just the press of your lips to his skin, as light as the landing of a butterfly, but from the corner of your eye you see the way his eyes widen and the telltale flush of his cheeks.
He gulps, his entire body turning warm under your touch.
"It's nothing," you say, one hand still cradling his cheek. The documents crinkle in his grip, and you smile. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you, is all."
Before you can even realize, Wriothesley is craning his neck and turning your head so that he can press a full kiss against your lips, heart racing as he steals your breath. The way he kisses you is frantic, rough. Like he can't get enough of you in the moment. Like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, and the only thing he can do about it is kiss you harder.
When you finally separate, you're both heaving for air, foreheads pressed together and breath mingling. Every one of his exhales tickles your lips, and under your palm, you can feel how his heart thumps in his chest.
Wriothesley's breath is ragged when he speaks; breathless like he's just ran a marathon. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you too," he whispers.
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⠀「 NEUVILLETTE 」
He's been around humans for a long time. It's to be expected that he's had enough time to observe what humans in love do.
Specifically with kisses, Neuvillette has always been a little intrigued.
What is it that makes the meeting of lips so enjoyable for humans? Is it different from the act of holding hands? From the act of linking arms as you walk down a street together?
It's with you that he finally finds his answers.
"Neuvi!" you call, walking into his office. There's a beaming grin as you close the door behind you, bags of takeout food in your hands. "I've brought lunch!"
Neuvillette raises his head the moment he hears your voice, his lips curving in a soft smile. By the time you've approached, rounding his desk and giving him a kiss on the forehead in greeting, the Iudex has already put away his case files and has cleared a place for you on his desk.
You perch on it with ease, one of Neuvillette's hands coming up to push you up, and place the takeout bags beside you. "Hey," you tell him with a smile, looking down at him from where you sit.
"Hello." Neuvillette's eyes glitter from this angle, and the way he smiles so fondly at you makes him look nothing like the scary Iudex that some people think he is. If anything, with the way he looks at you, he just looks like any other man in love. One of his hands find yours, gently weaving his fingers between yours and caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "Thank you for bringing me lunch," he says. "You didn't have to."
"Mm, it's not for free, though!" You tell him with a grin, and one of his brows rise.
"Oh?"
"Mhm," you nod sagely, leaning forward so that your lips hover just above his. There's a smile on your face, and one of your hands goes to his shoulder to steady yourself. "I want a kiss for all my hard work."
"is that so," he muses, expression becoming just the slightest bit teasing. "Does the one you took upon arrival not meet your requirements, my dear?"
"That was nice, but I want a kiss kiss, Neuvi," you tell him, pouting just a bit.
Neuvillette chuckles under his breath, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck and pull you in closer. "That can be arranged," he murmurs, just before his lips meet yours.
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⠀「 LYNEY 」
A relationship with him consists of so! many! kisses!
My guy acts like he's gonna fall ill if he doesn't have a kiss from you every so often.
Literally, he takes any excuse to kiss you that he can get!
And if you're the one initiating a little smooch? He'll be over the moon!
"If you're trying playing a magic trick on me, you're already cheating," Lyney laughs. He's seated on a chair in the the Hotel Bouffes d'ete, a silk handkerchief covering his eyes. One of his eyebrows are raised, and there's a joking quirk to his lips. Although he can't see it, you roll your eyes and tighten the blindfold.
"You're sure you can't see anything?" You ask when you think you've got it tight enough. You wave a hand in front of his face, and he doesn't even flinch.
"All I'm seeing now is my life if you were not in it, mon amour. Nothing but endless darkness." He's grinning while he says it, but you know he means every word, cheesy little shit that he is. You grumble the thought aloud, and he has the audacity to laugh.
You pull away, keeping one hand on his shoulder so he still knows you're there. "Alright smooth talker," you say. "Give me a number from one to ten."
"Ooh, a very intriguing question," Lyney hums. "I'll take the safe route... and go with five."
"Okay. Final answer?"
"Have I ever been one to take back my words, mon amour?"
You grumble again, and his grin widens. Your hands rise to cup his face, tilting it up for easier access. Lyney is lost for a second, lost on what you could have up your sleeve— then you press kisses to his face in rapid succession. One of his forehead, another two on each of his cheeks, one on his nose, and a last one on his lips. That one you drag out a little longer, feel his lips against yours with a familiarity that only you have ever known, before it ends too quickly. Five kisses, just as he's asked.
When you remove the blindfold, he stares at you, light flush high on his cheeks, lips tingling with the urge to kiss you more.
You grin. "Good enough of a magic trick for you?"
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⠀「 KAVEH 」
For Kaveh, your kisses are nothing short of an oasis in the middle of the desert.
When he feels at his lowest, debt and impending deadlines creeping in on him, there's nothing that pulls him out of his headspace like affection from you.
If he feels like he's about to drown, you pull him out of the water.
For that reason, he welcomes every ounce of affection you can spare.
"Kaveh, it's late," you beckon him from under the sheets, a yawn crawling up your throat. "Come sleep. You can continue your work in the morning."
"Go first," he says, leaning over another set of schematics, hand pushed into his hair in frustration, a deep frown marring his face. "I'll join you once I finish this." His voice is distant, distracted, as if he's just spitting out preset lines in his head.
You've been saying that for hours now, you want to tell him. It's hard not to feel a little neglected when your boyfriend refuses to look at you for hours at a time— when he continues to run himself ragged despite all your best efforts at trying to make sure he doesn't break himself in his pursuit of perfection.
When Kaveh sighs once more, slamming his hands on his desk in frustration and groaning so loudly you're sure Alhaitham is cursing him out from his room, you slip out from under the sheets and walk over to him.
"Kaveh," you say again, a hand on his shoulder.
"What," he snaps at you before he can help it, teeth bared. When he sees how you flinch, hand threatening to pull away, he quickly looks down, staring at the sheets of paper with shame and regret. "I'm sorry," he says in a quiet voice, head hung and hands trembling. The fight and frustration drains out of his body, leaving him tired. Tired and feeling terrible.
You sigh— you don't blame him for the outburst. Archons knows he's been on the receiving side for a few of your own bad moods. That's just how some days can be, being graduates of the akademia. Gently you take hold of his cheek and guide him to look up at you, and when his eyes hesitantly meet yours, you smile a little sleepily.
"I forgive you," you say, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, moving down to his nose, and then ending on his lips. You can feel just the slightest curve of his smile as you kiss softly, feel the way his shoulders relax just a bit under your care.
"Come on. You need rest," you tell him, gently tugging him to his feet and leading him to the soft, warm bed. This time, he does not protest.
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⠀「 ALHAITHAM 」
With him, it's a little difficult to randomly kiss him, because he's very rarely caught off guard.
He intercepts a lot of your attempts!
Whether it be side-stepping you to make you gasp in affront, or stealing your thunder and kissing you before you can kiss him— needless to say it's a challenge.
Good thing you always rise to challenges.
From the moment you enter the living room and perch yourself on the couch beside him, Alhaitham is squinting at you in suspicion. You just grin, not dissuaded by the sharp look in his eye.
"You're planning something," he say, snapping his book close.
You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "Who, me? Bold statement, mister grand sage."
"Acting grand sage. Non-permanent."
"Same thing," you dismiss with a wave of your hand. His stare only narrows further. "Now! I need to you do something for me, dearest love of mine. Give me your hands, would you?"
And although his nose wrinkles at the cheesy nickname, he complies, albeit a little hesitantly. One of the perks of him being your boyfriend, you suppose— lessened questions about any shenanigans you might pull.
When you're securely gripping his hands, weaving your fingers together and ensuring that he can't pull away (his brow furrows when he tries. He's getting more suspicious about what you're about to pull) you grin.
"Okay. Now close your eyes."
"I'd rather not," Alhaitham shuts you down immediately, and you frown.
"Please?"
"Tell me why, first."
"Just—! I pinky promise you'll like it. I super swear that you'll like it!"
And eventually he relents, eyes falling shut. You cheer internally, and before he can change his mind, you swoop forward to give him a kiss. The surprise of it catches him off-guard for once, and his hands clench yours, but just as you'd expected he doesn't try to pull away— if anything, he pushes back into the press of your lips, kissing you even harder than you kissed him.
When you separate, your face feels warm and your palms are undoubtedly sweaty, but he hasn't let you go for a second. Alhaitham swallows down a gulp of air, chest heaving just a little, and you feel the bubble of victory in your chest. "See? I told you you'd like it."
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delirious-donna · 1 month
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The Temporary Assistant [Higuruma Hiromi]
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an: I’ve been obsessed with the exhausted lawyer for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve written a fic for him… please be kind cause I baby.
pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader
warnings: NSFW, pwp, established relationship, reader is assumed to be a little bit on the booby side, pseudo boss/subordinate dynamic, spit as lube (don’t do this folks), Higuruma is a breasts man, nipple play, little prep, cumshot
Masterlist
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“She quit. What do you mean, she quit?”
Higuruma massaged his tired eyes in steady circles, huffing out a laugh at your exasperated questioning and the equally perplexed look on your face.
“Darling, I don’t know how else to phrase it other than the young lady no longer works for me,” he offered with fatigue lacing his tone. It was late, and he didn’t want to be having this conversation for the third time today. The first had been with his partner at the law firm they jointly owned, and the second with the agency supervisor his previously employed assistant worked for.
Nanami hadn’t been surprised at the news, a fact that bothered Hiromi more than he cared to admit. His partner was not one for pulling his punches, so Hiromi was accustomed to his sometimes blunt manner of speaking, but it still hurt to think that Kento had seen something coming that he had been blindsided by.
“I’m only surprised she lasted this long.” Those were his parting words as Hiromi stalked dejectedly back to his office at Nanami’s insistence that his assistant would be far too busy to spread her attention to them both. Not words he’d been happy to hear.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Higuruma. That’s not like her, but I’m afraid it’ll be at least two weeks until I can provide a replacement.” The agency supervisor sounded genuinely shocked at the sudden resignation, and his day simply went from bad to worse.
Hiromi flopped onto the couch, his head lolling back with his eyes sliding shut from the weight of his fatigue. It had been mounting all day, and now that he was home, where he should be finding solace in the comfort of his surroundings and his loving wife’s embrace, he was hit suddenly with a fresh reminder of the shit he’d landed in.
A soft hand caressed the side of his neck, inducing a shiver of relief. It was followed by the weight of your body settling over his spread thighs, your head resting against his shoulder. His suit jacket still hung from his lithe frame, the button undone and the shirt beneath badly wrinkled from the long commute home, but you didn’t care about his untidiness. 
He felt every quiet exhale fan his throat, the ghost of a smile finding its way to his face despite it all. Your nimble fingers burrowed into the knot of his tie, loosening it until you could pull it free and toss it away. “What are you going to do, Hiromi? I know you have that court date coming up… it’s a busy time. How about Nanami’s assistant?”
“Not an option. I already tried,” he muttered with a shrug. 
Opening his eyes, he peered down at you tucked into the crook of his neck, a hand inside the collar of his shirt and your nails grazing gentle patterns over his collarbone. He chewed his lip, fearful to broach the idea planted by his partner when his foot was almost out the door. “You could always ask your wife…”
Selfishly, he indulged himself in your affections, your scent that permeated every corner of the home you shared and let his fingers, stiff from the cold, warm against your feminine curves. You might not be so keen to indulge him once he suggested you work as his temporary assistant, so he would take what he could until push came to shove.
“Your fingers are icy, Hiro. Come here,” you chided with a click of the tongue, though he knew it was only born of concern for his health. Hiromi hummed happily, grateful when you pressed his palms together with yours on either side and blew hot air to dispel the chill.
“What would I do without you?” He whispered, sitting upright and nudging your nose with his when you glanced at him. Hiromi’s eyes drooped, heat dusted his cheeks at the proximity, and when you let out an airy giggle… he swore he swooned all over again. Just as he had when he first met you and fell in love.
He doubted he would be in the position he was today had it not been for you. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would be here at all if he hadn’t met you when he did, but that was a story for another day.
You admired the side profile of your husband, eyes low and hazy with appreciation of his strong jaw and prominent nose that hooked just so at the end. “Good thing you’ll never have to know.”
Hiromi groaned aloud, burying his face between the soft skin of your décolleté. His cool lips skimmed the tops of your breasts, first on one side then turning to the other, making you shudder and hum. Your fingers threaded through his black hair, tugging firmly at the roots just how he liked, and his hips jerked in response.
A great fuck and a good night’s sleep would fix him, you were certain of it. It wouldn’t resolve his work issue, but Hiromi worked better with a clear mind, and you knew it was murky as bog water right now. Your man was a brilliant lawyer, dedicated to working towards a more just legal system for those normally underrepresented along with his partner, but he was a terrible workaholic.
You couldn’t count the nights he traipsed home from the office at an ungodly hour only to drag his tired body into his home office to continue where he left off. Only coming to bed when you physically dragged him away from his keyboard and desk with threats of pain and not the kind he typically enjoyed.
It couldn’t be easy to be his assistant, though you knew damn well that he was a good man. The poor girl probably had enough of the endless expectations and incessantly long hours which were necessary to get through all of his demands because he refused to finish at five like normal people. On the few occasions you’d stopped by his office, you could see the fraught expression written all over her young face and how her eyes pleaded with you to distract her boss enough so she could catch up with the mountain of requests waiting for her attention. Poor girl…
Ready to go to town on your poor overworked and stressed husband, you rocked your pelvis against the seam of his zipper, pushing his head further into your chest whilst his cock twitched and hardened beneath you. Hiromi practically purred, the sound muffled and vibrated right down into your soul. The possibilities were endless, and you were considering if you should slide to the floor and bathe his cock in your spit or ride him until all that wicked tension left his body when he suddenly paused.
His hands moved to your waist, the pressure firmer than expected and he gently slid you back along his knees so you were no longer planted over his poorly concealed erection. The flicker of guilt burnt in his whisky-smoked eyes, and it soured your smile. Hiromi shook his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes flitting away from yours.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered.
“You… can’t fuck your wife?” Your voice broke into a laugh that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the bitter twist of uncertainty in your stomach. “Since when?”
“Don’t say that. I want to, but I need to ask you something first.” Hiromi cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press what he hoped were reassuring kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Then you can decide if you still wanna… y’know.”
Your eyes narrowed, suspicion forming like a snake ready to strike, and your arms folded tightly across your chest. He swallowed nervously, struggling not to ogle your beautiful breasts that he would be fully buried in by now and likely suckling on had it not been for his damned conscience. 
“Spit it out, Higuruma.”
Oh, he was in trouble.
Hiromi cleared his throat and fixed you with a beseeching look. “Will you be my assistant?” He rushed on when you visibly bristled. “It’s only for two weeks until the agency can find me a replacement and, and… it was Kento’s idea!”
“Throwing Kento under the bus isn’t going to save your hide, Mr Higuruma!” You slid sideways onto the couch, ignoring the groan of disappointment from beside you. “You know very well I am in the midst of my PhD. How could you think it would be feasible for me to come work in your office as an errand girl for a fortnight?”
“Well… I have a plan,” he said, both pointer fingers coming together as he continued to give you the best impression of those adorable dogs with the droopy eyes.
When he didn’t elaborate immediately, your eyebrows rose and you nudged his knee with yours. 
“R-right. I know you’ve been writing your paper here at home. So, I thought that maybe I could also work from home. You could help me out and continue your work in between the things I need.”
Dammit, that wasn’t quite the terrible idea you had initially anticipated. You eyed your husband from head to toe, and he desperately tugged at your folded arms until he could take your hands into his. He kissed across your knuckles, nuzzling his cheek, rough from a faint five o’clock shadow, into the back of your hands.
“Hiromi…” you warned, but he was almost too overjoyed to hear his given name once more to heed the warning in your voice.
“Two weeks. That’s all. And I promise not to ask for too much, only the absolute necessities that I can’t manage myself. Please?”
How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly and especially when you knew just how under the cosh he was with his upcoming trial? It would only interfere with your deadlines if he didn’t uphold his promises, but you chose to believe that he would. After all, Hiromi was rather keen on keeping his balls attached to his body.
“Fine, but you owe me.”
~
The first week went by without incident. It was an adjustment, to say the least, but once you found your feet and Hiromi got used to not having to leave at the arse crack of dawn, it was rather lovely to see more of your handsome husband.
Being able to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat lunch together was a daily treat, and it filled you with triumph when he would eagerly seek you out in the kitchen with his nose sniffing out whatever delicious treat you had prepared that day. Ensuring Hiromi ate during the working day was, more often than not, a struggle, with several text messages bouncing back and forth until he acquiesced–but not now.
Maybe it was the lure of stolen kisses or the giggles shared when you called him Mr Higuruma, breathlessly pressing your body into his and squealing playfully when he pawed at your backside in turn.
You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying the pseudo roleplay of boss and subordinate. Playing pretend with a power balance that didn’t translate to your relationship outside this current scenario. There was no top or bottom, no dominant or submissive, just two people enraptured by each other. Sometimes you led, and other times he did. Your marriage was well-balanced, and you loved that about Hiromi. He wasn’t threatened by a woman that initiated, in fact, he loved it—loved you. So this new experience, where he was large and in charge at all times, was certainly thrilling, but not everything was smooth sailing. 
Hiromi was demanding, to say the least. When he was engrossed in a specific piece of work, he had a way of speaking that made you want to smack him round the head with one of his many manila folders, preferably one of the thicker ones.
No wonder his assistant had quit if he regularly spoke to her in the clipped manner you had heard on more than several occasions now. Only your intimate knowledge of the man kept your tongue in your head and your hand away from the folders. Niceties were time-consuming when he was against the clock. He didn’t mean to be cold, and you told yourself this over and over, but it still hurt, just a little.
Higuruma could get used to this. 
He idly wondered how he would feasibly make the transition back to office working once this temporary fix came to an end. He didn’t miss his morning commutes, the packed trains that felt like being crammed into sardine tins, nor the chill of the office before the heating had a chance to warm the rooms sufficiently. 
It was a treat to be able to roll out of bed and right into his desk chair. If he wanted to start at 6am, he could, though you would chastise him thoroughly if he dared to. He knew you liked your morning snuggles, and so did he. Waking slowly to your soft snores which he liked to call purrs, and soaking in the smell of your sleep-soaked skin whilst his hands roamed every inch of your softness he could reach. It made it easier to escape the clutches of sleep, knowing you were waiting for him.
However, the star attraction of the current situation was you. Never had he cast an appreciative eye over one of his assistants, not even before he met you, but you were his wife, and he couldn’t help but gawk at his sheer dumb luck. There was something altogether forbidden about the fantasies in his head which, of course, made them all the more alluring.
The first few days at home he had stayed in comfortable clothing, favouring the sweats he’d wear around the house on the weekends and his old college sweater, but quickly, he realised that this didn’t work for him. He needed the structure of his routine even if he wasn’t venturing past his front door, so the suits returned—starched collars and a black tie at his throat. As if to match his energy, you started to dress formally too, and what a treat that was.
Pencil skirts that he didn’t think he’d ever seen, blouses that nipped in your waist, pinafore dresses that swished around your thighs and most decadent of all–lace-topped stockings. 
You were driving him to distraction, and the worst of it was that he was certain you didn’t realise. It made him sound shorter than he liked, his words coming out clipped, and his pleasantries sounded cursory rather than heartfelt. You were doing your best to accommodate his needs whilst still working on your paper, and here he was, wishing to bend you over his desk to run his nose and mouth over your squidgy thighs, the meat of your backside and the seat of your underwear until it soaked through with his saliva.
By the time the second week rolled around, Higuruma was a volcano, ready and raring to erupt at the slightest breeze or incident. The lunchtime kisses were no longer satiating his desires, nor were the evenings spent worshipping at the altar of your puffy, spit-covered pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch this very specific itch.
“I’ve made the copies you asked for, Hiromi. I’ve also updated your calendar with the pre-agenda meeting that came through from the opposing side. Was there anything else for now?”
Hiromi audibly moaned when your wrist grazed his fingers, setting down the documents in question and lingering by his side, waiting for an answer. He tugged sharply at the knot of his tie, feeling choked for air—starved of logic. 
As he glanced up at you, he paused. Your bottom lip was held fast between your teeth, eyes positively alight with playful mischief. So maybe you were more aware of the thick-as-sticky treacle tension than he gave you credit for. He fixed the cuffs of his shirt in an attempt to mask the shake of his hands, setting his pen down before leaning back in his chair. It creaked in protest, and you raised a hand to stifle a laugh. 
“Actually, there is something else, and it cannot be put off a moment longer,” he drawled with a tone that suggested he was going to dictate a letter or something equally menial. 
You were not expecting him to spin his chair towards you and yank you down by the arm into his lap. The shriek that left you was genuine, only silenced towards the end by the firm melding of warm, insistent lips. His hands were everywhere and all at once; squeezing the tops of your arms, ripping at the buttons that hid your cleavage from him and skimming beneath the tight hold of your skirt until it rucked around your hips.
There was such urgency to his movements that you struggled to catch up, but finally, you broke apart from his mouth, saliva strands webbing and breaking apart as your tongue passed through them and across your swollen lips. “Mr Higuruma! What would your wife say?” 
It was meant as a spicy joke, a nod to the little games that had been at play and the dynamic the two of you had fallen into, but you sensed immediately that it didn’t go over well. He stopped fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, half of them free from their holes and the lace of your bra now prominently on show, breasts firmly squeezed together given the constraints of the material.
“I-I would… never. I mean…” You watched the desire in his eyes shift to panic, and you shushed him with a finger over his lips. Your heart ricocheted in your chest at the sincerity, and if you believed you couldn’t love him any more than you already did, it proved untrue when you witnessed the devotion that shone in those whisky-coloured eyes.
“I know. It’s okay,” you murmured, closing the distance and trailing your lips over his jaw and up to his ear. “I like it… keep going, please?”
Oh gods, how could he have ever deserved a woman like you in his life? Hiromi whimpered, his eyebrows pinched together, and he felt that final strand of restraint snap clean in two. His lip trembled for a second before he was on you again. Hungry kisses pathed down your throat, a hand at the back of your head to keep you close and manoeuvre you exactly as he wanted.
You scrabbled at his tie, pulling it free with a whip crack until you could toss it behind you and return your focus to his shirt so you could scratch at his chest and leave red welts across his skin.
“No.” The frantic lawyer shook his head, pressing his fingertips over the fresh mark he’d sucked into your neck simply to watch you whine from the pressure of the blooming bruise. “Belt, now.”
Jumping at the ragged command that rasped from Hiromi’s throat, you complied without teasing or complaint. Working the tail of his leather belt through the buckle and sighed at the clatter of the metal when it rattled free to join his tie somewhere unseen in the room.
“Fuck… take it out, please.”
He didn’t wait for you to say anything, nor did he wait for you to pop his top button or lower his zip. He was too focused on freeing your bountiful tits and taking them into his mouth. Your eyes raised to the heavens when his hot needy tongue licked around your nipple, the lace cups shoved down to push your breast up and into his face. 
For long moments, you only watched as he laved you with his spit, lips drawn around your pert buds to elicit that deep-seated squirm of pleasure that echoed between your thighs. Hiromi lifted his gaze to your face, making sure you watched as he sandwiched your breast together with his broad palms so he could suckle both nipples at once. Your jaw slackened, your stomach sucked in, and your hips undulated atop his thighs.
It invigorated the tightness of your hold on his cock, drawing it out of his briefs followed by his heavy balls to stroke him hard and fast. He could take it, you knew that, his purpled cockhead sticky from precum that painted your fingers and palm. You paused with his foreskin pulled back, fingers ringing his base to use your other hand to tickle the seam of his balls. He jerked up with a muffled grunt, a resounding pop echoing in the study when his lips pulled free of your breasts.
“Need you, Sir. Please, want this,” you paused to squeeze his shaft in emphasis, “Inside me.”
“Little fucking temptress, you know that? Should’ve bent you over this desk days ago…” He growled against your collarbone, marking it with his teeth.
Higuruma stood abruptly. You squealed and anchored an arm around his neck, refusing to give up your possessive grab of his throbbing dick. He turned and shoved the back of his chair flush against the edge of his desk to stabilise it before dropping you into the leather seat and folding your legs back to your chest. 
His rough fingers pinched into the fat of your thighs, fiddling with the sticky bands of your lace stockings and damn near ripped them. You would have complained had it not been for the raw emotions written all over Hiromi’s face, his eyes fixed on the seat of your underwear and the obvious stain that was caused by his ministrations.
Bending his knees to drop closer to you, he savoured your mouth with his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to curl over your teeth. He filled his hands with the fat of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging the roundness with little gentleness. It was all you could do to moan, the sounds swallowed greedily only to be replaced by a pleading keen when he tugged your underwear away from your cunt. The fabric bunched around your knees, and you assumed he’d move back to remove them fully, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the material until it was tight around the bend of your knees, pinning you in place. 
His long slender fingers stroked your pretty slit, coming away with remnants of your arousal and using it to mix with his precum that continued to weep onto your hand. Hiromi’s head sagged forward, black hair falling into his eyes as a long string of saliva fell from what he’d gathered behind his teeth to your sensitive clit. He smeared it around the bundle of nerves, scissoring his fingers until he could tug it feverishly.
“Hiro… fuck me already. Goddammit, I’m gonna blow,” you whined, painfully aware that you were dangling by a thread.
You helped him lead his cock to your entrance, tapping it against your folds to see the tendons in his neck strain and giving you some semblance of smug satisfaction. When he finally notched where you needed him most, your breathing was coming so rapidly you faintly worried you might pass out from this. The air was so thick you struggled to inhale, drowning in this faux forbidden tryst.
He groaned, long and low. His nose nudged into your warm cheek as he bent even lower and pushed into your velvet heat. “That’s it. This pretty pussy is sucking me in—fuck—oh, you like that?” He teased, his hips drawing back only to plunge in again, and deeper this time when he felt you clench around him.
You gripped his forearms, head lolling against the headrest when his cock reached your depths, and the coarse midnight patch of hairs at his pelvis rubbed delicious friction into your pert little pearl. 
“Mhm… mhm. Keep going. Don’t stop.”
Higuruma could have laughed at the absurdity of your words. What made you think he could stop even if he wanted to? You were hugging him too perfectly, pulling him back in each time he withdrew his hips. The rhythmic pap of his full-to-bursting balls against the split of your ass rocketed him closer and closer to the finish point, enough so that he fisted the base of his dick to stave off his looming orgasm. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop either.
The tails of his shirt escaped his trousers and obscured the view of his cock disappearing into your warm cunt, and he growled in frustration. You were so close to the precipice of your orgasm that you didn’t realise why he was growling, only moaning at the primal noise and clenching down hard enough that Hiromi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Releasing his hold on your thighs, he grinned wolfishly at the imprints of his fingertips on the backs of your legs. With his heart pounding rapidly, he ripped his shirt up his torso and gripped the material between his teeth. His cock sawed in and out at a pace that was losing its rhythm at an alarming rate. 
He’d never looked like this before, crazed with desire and burning heat covering the apples of his cheeks. The whisky smoke in his eyes was barely visible due to how blown out his pupils were, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. His eyes cut to you, hips rotating whilst buried against your cervix, and with a sharp nod, he asked you to cum for him. His thumb sought out your clit, working it from side to side whilst his balls drew painfully tight and the first lick of molten heat dripped at the base of his spine.
Your eyes rolled over, limbs going lax and pliant pinned between the chair and his body. Your toes curled within your stockings, thighs trembling and butterflying open onto the arms of the chair. Hiromi rode out your high, slowing himself just so, but he couldn’t hold back for too long.
With a willpower that shocked him, he pulled out at the last moment and pumped himself until thick viscous spurts of cum shot across your exposed breasts and stained the blouse covering your stomach. He convulsed so intensely his knees nearly buckled, long drawn-out whimpers ripping from his throat, and you watched it all through hooded, blissed-out eyes. 
Hiromi sagged forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His cock twitched as it softened, the sensation worsened by your toying little fingers exploring his sensitive skin and rubbing the mixture of his and your arousal into his pelvis and across his balls. He didn’t know what to say. The fantasy lived out was so much more than his imagination could conjure, but he still felt a little vulnerable now it was over.
He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and licked over his parched lips. Words caught in his throat, but they were cut off by the trill of his phone on the desk as it vibrated across the wood. You handed it to him with a shy smile, and he answered it after smoothing back his hair.
“Mr Higuruma?”
“S-speaking,” he answered, clearing his throat urgently.
“I’m calling from Clerical Angels. Unfortunately, I have bad news. It is going to be another week before a new assistant can start. I’m sorry for the delay, I know it must be an inconvenience…”
Your eyes widened at the conversation you could hear as clear as day, meeting his steady gaze with cheeks that burned with a combination of mild embarrassment and intrigue. One more week.
“Not at all. I think I can cope, my wife is happy to bend over backwards for me.”
Oh, Hiromi would pay for that comment… but not for at least another week.
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1K notes · View notes
irndad · 1 month
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here I lay me down - s.r.
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a/n: ex!spencer gets shot, and you show up at the hospital to see if he's okay. spencer is still desperately in love with you. based on this post wc: 2.3k (she is LONG)
Spencer wakes to a cacophony of sounds, others breathing and various beeps and hums from a variety of medical machines. He hates the noise of the hospital, as he knows what always follows. It’s pain, and ever since he kicked dilaudid, he doesn’t get the relief that people are always pushing on him here. 
The last thing Spencer remembers, he was in front of Morgan, who was about to get shot- it was a piercing memory, one that even the anesthetic wearing off slowly couldn’t numb. He’d jumped in front of it, and the pieces of Morgan pacing around his room and the whole being in a hospital thing click into place. 
When he blinks his eyes open, he sees Hotch speaking to the doctor with his endearingly concerned eyebrow scrunch and it’s then that he notices a familiar scent in the air. 
It’s perfume- he knows because he’d bought it- a mixture of jasmine and lilies, and the memory of the night he gave it to her bursts into technicolor when he closes his eyes. It had been her birthday, and he’d gone with Penelope and Emily to pick out a gift for her. 
He remembers how she’d lit up, her warm doe eyes brightening with fondness that he’d earned, and the way his heart had flipped in his chest- the memory is in crisp detail. He remembers the way she’d kissed him, equal measure in thanks and in adoration, and it’s comforting to remember right now. He tries to think of her often, especially when waves of pain crash over him like an unruly ocean that threatens to drown him. There was someone who loved him at one point, he tries to remember. 
He wants to compliment the nurse wearing it, but even as limited as his social skills are in this state, he knows that telling the nurse you like her perfume because your ex wore it is probably inappropriate. 
A roar of desire presents itself in his chest- he has no desire to want her here, but Spencer can’t help but fantasize about her presence. Her nimble fingers running through his hair, her soft voice cooing at his injuries. It was always nice to come home to her after a rough day- her disposition warm and kind and good. It’s his fault he doesn’t have it- his fault that she doesn’t love him anymore. 
It’s as if he conjured her, when she walks in the door. 
He literally cannot believe that she is here, in his hospital room- he drinks in the sight of her like a man starved. She’s beautiful- he’d never forget this but it’s been so long since he’s seen her. The curve of her cheek, her cupid’s bow, the slope of her neck- the details he spent the best year of his life memorizing under careful touch. 
Her body language is protective, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other at her mouth, her delicate fingers holding a tissue. Had she been crying?
Before he can think of what to say to her, she speaks to him. 
“How are you feeling?”
He’d forgotten just how her voice sounded. Or rather, how it sounded when she was concerned for him. It’s addicting, hedonistic in the ways of wine and drugs and everything else you should have in moderation but had to give up. It’s just so comforting, her lovely doe eyes looking at him with warmth and concern. 
“Hey,” he replies, not answering her question. He might be imagining her. They might have given him drugs. There’s no way she came and see him of her own volition. 
She pauses for a moment, biting her lip in an incredibly endearing way (and god, he’d missed looking at her) before she makes the decision to walk over to the side of his bed. He tries to crane his neck to look at her and she scolds him, and this doesn’t make any sense. 
“You got shot,” she says, voice warm and concerned, and if he squinted he could hear love in her voice. 
“I’m okay,” he tries to reply. 
“You got shot,” she says, eyes flaring with emotion. She always hated that he minimized his pain. 
“You came,” he says, after a beat of silence. Her fingers are running through his hair and he tries to commit this to memory. It doesn’t mean she loves him. She’s the kind of person who stops on the street to give someone the last dollar in her wallet, of course she would visit her ex-boyfriend in the hospital after he got shot.
It doesn’t mean anything. 
“Of course I came, Spence,” she says, intentionality in her tone, “You got hurt.”
It’s selfish to lean into her touch, but she smells like home and he doesn’t know if he will ever be held like this again by her. And he doesn’t care to be held by anyone else. 
Hotch comes in, and if he’s surprised to see the two of them together, it doesn’t show on his face. He tells Spencer that the. Bullet had been clean through, and that he’d been lucky. He’d avoided internal bleeding and would need to stay at home for a week. 
When Hotch leaves to ‘give him some space to process’, the silence lingers.
“Thank you for coming.”
It’s kind of worse, actually. The reality where she’s still his girlfriend is superimposed on top of this one, and he can feel the ghost of the kisses she’d pepper his cheeks with. If she still loved him, then she’d hug him and tell him that she loves him, tell him how angry she is for jumping in front of a stray bullet. 
It’s my fault, he thinks to himself, eyes raking over her. She’d definitely been crying, he realizes. Her makeup had run and he think she might have slept here. How had he ever gotten someone like her to fall in love with him? 
It’s his fault she doesn’t love him anymore.
When the doctor tells him that he needs someone to stay with him for the next few days, and she volunteers, he agrees.
It’s a nice kind of pain, he thinks. Any piece of her is more than he wants of anything else.
_______________________________________
It turns out that she is a wonderful caregiver. 
Penelope had been incredibly supportive of this idea, somehow convinced that the proximity would bring them back together. This is a hope that Spencer does not engage in, but still- it’s nice to have her around. 
She knows her way around his apartment- knows how he organizes her things. Half her things used to be there too. 
Memory is a funny thing. The worst part by far of eidetic memory is the lack of forgetting, and up until now, this was best seen in the horrors of his work. Now, it’s all her.
Taking care of him when he got shot is not the same thing as loving him. 
When she makes them dinner (which is so kind of her- he offered to buy takeout and she’d insisted on recreating his mother’s soup recipe. She’d kept a copy of it in her phone. Spencer had almost died of flattery), she sits next to him on his couch
It’s funny how the best memories of his life are so colored now- their trip to Europe, their first kiss, the first time he’d cooked her dinner and she’d watched Doctor Who with him. Ghosts of memory linger through the place, and it hurts to see her sit next to him on the couch with a foot between them. 
“Thank you for being here,” he says after a beat of silence. She looks beautiful, and he always thinks this. She’s wearing his t-shirt which is just an awfully tempting view. 
It’s his fault he can’t have what he wants. 
“I told you I still wanted us to be friends,” she says, looking down at her bowl, “You’re my friend. I’m happy to do this.”
He can tell she means it as an olive branch but it cuts like a knife. Because he never wanted to be her friend. She was the first thing he even wanted enough to ask for it. He still remembers when he’d asked her out the first time, the stuttering and the way she’d looked, how impossible her liking him back had felt. 
And then he’d managed to make her fall in love with him. It didn’t even take much- he just had to be himself, the way she says it, and he’d give anything to have that back. 
“You’re a good friend,” he replies, instead of everything he’s thinking. 
“Hotch thinks so,” she muses, not looking at him, “He was surprised I’d come here after you broke up with me.”
It’s a slight lash out, and it’s fair. It’s not fair that she’s here, wearing his fucking t-shirt, her collarbones exposed under the fabric. He know what her skin feels like under his lips, and now she make veiled comment on his couch. 
“Why did you?”
He can’t figure it out. They’d broken up two months ago. He’d done it to protect her- after the anthrax case he’d been fucking fixated on her getting hurt. Because this is the stuff he can’t protect her from. Can’t help if biomedical hazards end up on his clothes,  and if he comes home shot. 
He got shot. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t get forever with the woman he loves, because he can’t keep her safe. Even if he quit just then- enough people have made an enemy of him. She’d never be safe.
So he made a choice to cut his ties and let her go, and yes, every fucking night since he’s had at least one nightmare about what she looks like crying and asking him to stay. He never, ever wanted to see her like that, but he also never ever wanted her to be a widow. 
She’d find someone else. She’s so easy to love- he doesn’t like to think about someone else loving her, but he’s sure she won’t be alone. 
His voice catches in his throat.
“It is nice of you,” Spencer chokes out, “I never wanted you to have to do that.”
“Let’s not talk about this now,” she says, getting up to get him another serving, and he grabs her wrist.
“Ba- Hey, please. Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” she says at him, but she doesn’t pull her wrist back. 
“I just-“ he stammers, but it’s heavy and something he can’t give up, the combination of her gaze under his and her soft skin in his grasp, “I can’t have you here and hate me. I just can’t take you hating me. I know- I know what I did. I know it’s not fair to ask and I know that we’re not together and I know it’s my fault but god, you can’t hate me. I can’t take it.”
“You think I hate you?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“You think I came to the hospital in the middle of the night, slept in a waiting room, cooked you soup and slept on your couch because I hate you?”
He doesn’t know what to say. How could she still love him? 
“It’s you,” he replies. “You’d always do that for me.”
She’s closer now, moving into his space more and more and he can smell his own body soap on her because she showered here, and he’s overcome with a desire to hold her. 
“Why do you think that is?”
She’s almost in his lap now, and there’s a greed to this now, the way he pulls her a little bit closer. She tips her head back in a bitter, tinny laugh that he doesn’t like the sound of. 
“I mean, Spencer- I love you so much that I don’t even care if you love me back.”
“You still love me?”
“I’m working on it,” she says, a bitter smile on her face, “You’re hard to get over.”
“Don’t get over me.”
It’s not the smoothest thing he could’ve sid, and he kind of regrets the implication on her face, sees her gorgeous features crumple. 
“That’s mean, Spence.” 
“No! No. Don’t. Don’t-don’t do that. Don’t move on with your life and find someone else because this is the lightest I’ve felt in fucking weeks.”
Her eyes widen into saucers, and her grip tightens on his hands, and Spencer feels like he could fly. 
“I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have made you go and I should’ve let you be the person who picks me up at the hospital and I know, I know how lucky I am that you’re still here, that you cared enough. Please, please don’t get over me. I know it’s not far to ask.”
She blinks a few times at him before opening her arms for a hug, of which he flies into at breakneck speed. His ribs hurt but he’d forgotten what it was like to hold her. And yes, maybe wanting this makes himself selfish, but he wants this. Maybe this can the one thing he lets himself have. 
“I do love you. ” he speaks into her collarbone, and she shushes him. 
“No, no,” he says, looking up at her, her gorgeous doe eyes shaky with uncertainty he knows is his fault, “If you’ll still have me, I’d like to-I’d like to try again. And I know that you probably can’t trust me and I have so much to make up for and-“
“Spencer,” she says warmly, twining their fingers, “I’d like to kiss you now. Okay?”
He nods a bit fervently, shaking as he does, but when she kisses him-
It’s just as he remembers. She leans into him, her delicate fingers cupping his jaw and he wraps his spindles arms around the curve of her waist, pinning her to him like she might float away if untethered. 
When Spencer gets back to the office, he it’s not just his wounds that have healed. 
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kafkasmuses · 1 month
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divine figures — luke castellan + reader : nothing could steer luke off his path to god now, until you came along. 
tags : southern setting au, small town setting, loser!luke, idolization, christian religious references & imagery, religious inconsistencies, church sex, religious guilt, body worship, sex but poetic, cannibalistic imagery…………..
a/n : heavily inspired by the lovely @murdrdocs!! 
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luke castellan was never one to follow a religion, well, not at first he wasn’t. he thought it was all bullshit, to put your all into someone nobody is sure even exists, it’s bullshit. but then his mom began insisting that he went, that he needed to find god, they both did, so he went.   
luke lacked a father figure, so when he stared up at the statue perched at the apse of the church, he found the man he always lacked in his life, no matter how much the statue ignored his gaze, never bothering to look his way. he was quick to read the bible like it was a drug he just couldn’t get enough of, he sat straight with his eyes forward during each sermon, he kept himself pure. 
and he stuck true to that, until you came. 
he never really noticed you at first, but you were always there. 
always looking over your shoulder to his place in the pew, always smiling at him when he accidentally glances your way, always passing by his house on your bike on hot summer days in hopes of seeing him outside, shirtless and working on his mother’s car. 
you hadn’t mustered up the proper courage to speak to him, not until your parents have tugged you over to where he stood with his mother in the nave. your mother and father immediately sparked up conversation with his mother, leaving you to awkwardly look around the church in hopes of finding something worthy of speaking of. nothing, there was nothing. so you just mumbled out a, “hey.” 
he hesitates for a second, “hi.” 
“did you like the sermon?” your southern drawl, along with your sugar coated smile, luke can feel the thumping of his heart against his knit sweater. 
“‘course,” he smiles shyly, “i always do— um.. did you?” 
you nod at him, your ability to hold eye contact so well had him feeling nervous, constantly breaking it to glance around the room, “are you excited for easter?”
luke’s lips curve to a brighter smile, one that proves that he hopes that with jesus’ return, there will be a proper savior for him, his prayers will finally be listened to, maybe for once the statue on the wall will glance his way. 
jesus molded everything about luke, at this point, if he couldn’t believe in his father, jesus was going to take that place— and he did, luke was taught everything by the bible, all he ever relied on was the words of the lord, everything he ever did was a representation of what lied in those scriptures. he never worshipped another god, never said the lord’s name in vain, always remembered sabbath day, as well as honored his mother and… father. 
he didn’t commit adultery, in fact, he never spoke to women, really. his mother kept him sheltered, he was only allowed to speak to the women at church, not any of the women who rode on their bikes past his house, or smiled at him in the library. he just stared at them for a minute and looked away, contemplating how different things would be if he was able to speak to them. 
at the thought of women, luke’s mind races back to you, who is currently blinking at him and thinking he didn’t hear you. “i am excited— for easter, will you be at— the um.. the church that day?” 
another nod, then an awkward silence as you find nothing more to say, and neither does he. the church was a beautiful place, decorated with swirls of gold and dark wood, colorful stained glass windows that painted pictures of jesus, or virgin mary. if luke could move out of his home and live somewhere he genuinely enjoyed, it would be the church. 
there was something so comforting about it, maybe the faint music that played in the background, or the way it smelled of old books and floral perfumes, or the fact that it was just a place where so many people went to put their faith into someone. god was just so important, if luke didn’t know any better, he’d envy him. 
“you should come on sabbath days,” you interject his thoughts, leaning in to his vision. 
he blinks, eyes refocusing on your face, and he awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “i thought they were for relaxation?” 
“and worship,” you correct, and he crystalizes the memory of how each word sounds on your tongue, how it flows out so well, how it makes him swallow. 
“right, right,” he wets his lips nervously, “i’ll just— ask my mom. mama?” 
as soon as he asks his mom, she’s all smiles at him, nodding and even shaking your hand, thanking you for urging him to go to church more. 
“i’ll see you there,” is the last thing you say to luke that day. 
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
luke would be a liar to say he wasn’t riddled with visions of you in the darkest parts of the night, they started from the day you first spoke to him, and never left him since. he hated how much it plagued him, because it tempted him so well. it was like you were eve, offering him, adam, the apple. you reassure him that it’s sweet, that there’s no harm in taking a bite, and luke is parting his lips, ready to taste it, when he finally wakes up. 
the heat of the room is beating down on him, even in the cool of the night. his skin is sticky from sweat, and all he can ever think about is you. it should be a crime, really, how much you had consumed his every waking thought. for once, he wasn’t thinking of the bible verses he would be reading that day, what prayer he would be saying. 
luke didn’t know one thing about women, but the way you spoke to him, the way you smiled at him, the glints in your eyes, it had him wondering how he could make your face twist up in pleasure— fuck. he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it’s unholy, it’s weird, but he’s already in too deep. 
he’s already fed the memory of how pink your lips are, how soft they look, they probably feel the same. is it a sin to wonder how well you kiss? would you be all - consuming? or slow, sweet? luke doesn’t know why he prefers if you’d be hungry, if you’d bite and nip at him like you’re hungry, like he’s the last supper. 
his boxers feel tight on his skin, dick twitching in the confines of them. luke hardly knows this feeling well, he wasn’t one to allow himself to get hard, nor was he one to properly take care of it. but something about the idea of your teeth clashing against his when you kiss him, pushing your tongue into his mouth to taste him properly— it had his fingers pushing underneath the waistband of his underwear. 
when his fingertips graze his cock, he immediately shudders, lashes fluttering. every time luke touched himself, it felt like the first time, only now it felt.. better. better because he was thinking of you. luke had never watched porn, he hardly knows what it is, so the idea of what sex would be like is.. a gray area for him. 
but he works with what his mind is capable of, which is dry humping. the first setting that comes to mind is the church, which leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he goes with it. it comes to vividly, you on his lap, wet patch evident on his jeans from where your hips push down, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. when you moan, he does, when you whimper, he does, when you roll your hips, he does. 
everything was in sync, and it was all so sinful. masturbation itself wasn’t a sin, unless you thought of someone, and for the longest time, luke never thought of anyone, but you were a parasite he couldn’t shake, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 
luke wonders how much the priest will judge him when he utters these thoughts, these events in the confessional tomorrow. he has only ever uttered small, pitiful confessions, i didn’t help my mom with dinner, i turned in a book to the library late, i forgot to pray. he’s never had to confess anything larger. 
heat bubbles in luke’s stomach, it’s pleasant, sweet, but it curls, and curls until it’s suffocating, until his wrist is hurting from the fast pumps of his cock, sweat glistening on his skin, cheeks flushed. he can feel a whine scratching up his throat, in the confines of his mind, something is screaming at him, telling him to stop, but it’s too late, he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears. 
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
when luke comes into the church the next day, it’s a saturday, a sabbath day. typically on these days, he would be spending his time lounging around his house, reading some piece of classical literature that he has hidden from his mother, wishing to keep the inked pictures of statues reeking of desire for one another a secret. 
but he was here, and so, he prayed. 
the sun had barely risen over the horizon (courtesy of daylight savings), yet the candles in the church were lit, leaving an orange hue to project around the empty room. 
luke felt gross, corrupt, unholy. 
for once, luke feels as though the statue above is glaring down on him, and he tries his best to not shrink into himself under the piercing gaze. he knows. his mouth is dry with each prayer, fingers sweaty around the rosary, but he wouldn’t allow himself to falter once more. 
as soon as he starts his fifth prayer, he hears the creak of the floorboards that he knows all too well, eyes fluttering open so he can look back to see who was there, hoping they hadn’t heard his last confessions in his prayers. 
you. his mind is tugged to a halt, every prayer he had rehearsed on his way to the church, completely forgotten. it was all just.. you. you seared on his skin, burned him until he was nothing but smoke. your gaze softens on him, a stark contrast to jesus’ pointed glares, “i didn’t think you’d come.” 
his voice is coarse from the nonstop prayers, “of course i would.” 
all he can think about is you underneath him, his own skin bitten and scratched, decorated in mulberry and deep pinks, he’s practically salivating at the idea. he wonders if, behind the confines of the church walls, would anyone hear you? would the priests dare to look for whoever is letting out such unholy noises? 
luke feels frozen the second he comes back to reality, dick hardening underneath the fabric beyond his control, his mind is tearing itself apart before he can even realize you’re speaking to him. 
“— wondering if you’d like to sit next to me tomorrow,” you pose, seemingly unaware of the bulge in luke’s pants that he is desperately trying to naturally cover with his hands. but you knew, you knew the effect you had on him, and he had the same effect on you. 
is it so cruel to only tease him harder? 
luke swallows the remaining saliva in his drying mouth, quickly moving to a stand, rosary bringing more attention to his covered crotch, “sure, yes— um.. i need to— go.” 
before you can even say anything, he is pushing past you, hand moving only to chastly grab your waist for a mere second as he passes, an instinct of trying to keep you stable, but it only makes a heat between your legs grow. 
desires go both ways, and it’s only a matter of time before they snap. 
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
easter was once luke’s most anticipated day of the year, but now it was the day of his nightmares. he barely slept last night, kept himself awake with chores, prayers, and reading the bible until it made him sick. he couldn’t have another dream, he couldn’t let you get to him anymore. he thought it would be easy to avoid you today, but he was cursed with his own mistakes as you sat down next to him in the pew. 
the worst part wasn’t that you sat down next to it, it’s that his mind was riddled with disgusting thoughts as soon as he saw how your dress brushed up your thighs, it was so simple, such a small act, but it just made him think the worst possible things. 
you bent over the pew, the bottom of your dress tugged up to show your panties, his hands are gripping your hips like his life depends on it, crotch pressed to your clothed pussy from behind. 
luke blinks back with his cheeks hot, noticing the bible in your hands. when he speaks, he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying, it’s like he’s possessed, “what verse are you reading?” 
“luke 22:40,” you say it so simply, a smile barely teasing your lips. 
on reaching the place, 
he said to them, “pray that you 
will not fall into temptation.” 
the saliva on luke’s tongue is sour, near poisonous, his lips were stained maroon from the skin of the apple. luke 22:40 was the exact line he had been reciting to himself, luke was his name. the serpent was squeezing him tight, his breath felt swiped away from his lungs. 
luke is quiet for the rest of the evening, even through the sermon, when he should be smiling when everyone else is, clapping when everyone else is— he is just silent, blank - faced. 
you can’t decipher what he’s feeling until everyone has gone off to eat after the sermon, and he’s tugging you back into the pew once it’s vacant, fingers forming a tight grip around your wrist, “why are you doing this?” 
he’s out of breath, and no matter how tough he tries to seem, he sounds pathetic, his voice a near whimper, like he’s pleading with you. 
“doing what?” you blink up at him, doe eyes making his teeth press together. 
“you’re tempting me— this, this isn’t fair, why?” his breath is shaky when he exhales. 
“i’m not doing anything, luke.” 
“you’re making me think— making me imagine things.. sinful things.” 
“what exactly are you thinking?” your voice is softer, and the heat of the sun is seeping into the church. 
“i..” how can he explain himself? every image that he wants to communicate is all too disgusting, a mixture of hunger and desire, it seemed luke wanted you to eat him alive, “you know what i’m thinking.” 
“why don’t you show it to me?” 
absolution; 
formal release from guilt, 
obligation, or punishment. 
or.. 
an ecclesiastical declaration
of forgiveness of sins.
morals trickle down luke’s back when he kisses you, he knows it’s all wrong, he knows he could just leave it at a kiss, but he didn’t want to be haunted with these visions any longer, maybe if he made them a reality, they would just leave. he could be himself again, the picture - perfect religious boy he was always supposed to be. the kiss is small at first, the hesitant movement of lips, the adjusting to the feeling, but it quickly grows into something hungry. 
luke didn’t know how to properly kiss, so he just followed your lead, and soon enough, he was kissing you like a starving man. from tongues clashing, to his hand mindlessly moving to your hip, body pressing against yours, it was everything he saw in the pictures printed in those books he read. 
when luke falls back into his seat on the pew, you had pulled away from him, admiring how flushed his lips are. when your hand meets his jaw, luke forgets who his god is supposed to be, all he can think about is you, even on the day dedicated to the man he has spent all of his life worshiping. 
“please,” it’s barely even audible, only made out by the slight flick of his tongue from the l. 
“tell me what you want.” 
it felt like luke was sitting in the confessional, admitting all of his nastiest desires when his lips part, finally being able to say his thoughts out loud, “can you— ride me? or.. if you don’t want to— that’s okay.” does luke know what riding is? only from the overheard gossip of other men, but he was told it was something he had to try, when he got married, of course. 
“i want to,” it’s as if you aren’t in a church, as if nobody could just walk in and see how you’re moving onto his lap, moving his hands to your ass, letting his desperate fingers tug your dress up. his purity bracelet brushes against your skin when you move to guide his hands to your ass, watching the nervous look in his eyes when he squeezes the flesh. 
he has no idea what he’s doing, he just wants to please you, to make you feel as good as he made himself feel to the idea of you the other night. maybe, at this point, luke isn’t praying to jesus, maybe he never was, because you were always in the back of his mind. no matter how guilty it made him feel, how many times he had squeezed his tear - ridden eyes shut and wished he was different, wished he wasn’t so easy to fall for temptation. 
god is watching, is what his mind tells him, but your eyes tell him to keep going, watching as he moves his hands to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal clinging being so improper for the walls ridden with crosses, but it just felt so right. he sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out his dick, the cool air searing his delicate skin, pupils blown wide when they watch your lips slightly part at the sight. 
 “you’re so big,” is all you can manage out. 
luke’s lips twitch around a small smile, “is that a good thing?” 
“if it fits,” you move through a few twists to properly take your panties off, letting them hang off your ankle when you reposition yourself to have your entrance pressing against the tip of his dick, “then yes.” 
luke’s lips press together as soon as you start sinking down on him, you’re so slow with it it’s almost torturous. the holy water he had dipped his water in and pressed to his skin, was now scorching him with each inch that filled your velvet walls. when you reached the hilt, it was safe to say you felt stuffed, and luke was making more noise than you. 
whimpers, grunts, he tried to hide them all behind the confines of his lips, but they dug their nails into his throat and crawled their way up until it was impossible for him to hold them back. as soon as you began moving, luke was purely fighting for his life against the own noises leaving him to the point of where he had to sit up, pressing his lips to your neck, he was quick to press his lips against the sensitive areas, biting, sucking— he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it properly, but he was just so desperate. 
he wanted you to shatter him like fine porcelain, to snap off his glass parts and crush them underneath your fingers with pure ease, to deconstruct every inch of him that he had taken years to build. no matter how empty he would feel in the end, to put himself in your hands, like a lump of clay in the hands of a goddess, he trusted your instincts. 
“i want you to ruin me,” he mumbles against the flesh of your neck, barely audible. 
“what?” your voice is breathless between moans, walls tightening around his dick with each movement of your hips. 
he whimpers out a simple, “sorry.” 
you didn’t forget his words, though, in fact, you let your fingers run through his dark curls, tangling through them until you tugged him back from your neck, just so you can take his place, now the one pressing your lips to his neck. he felt small underneath you, but he didn’t hate it, he liked the way that your lips felt on his skin, enough for him to lean his head back to provide you more blank canvas. 
you painted him in maroons and mulberries, blooming rose petals on his skin, marking him as your own. no matter how much luke knew he would be praying for forgiveness tonight, in this moment, everything he’s ever stood for has fallen off his broad shoulders. his hair is messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead, skin peppered with bite marks, deep reds, purples, every color in between and beyond.
“‘m gonna—“ luke’s words come out choked, dick pulsing inside of you, “gonna cum—“ 
luke’s orgasm hits him hard enough to have tears pooling into his eyes, maybe it was the guilt, or the everlasting pleasure, he wasn’t entirely sure, how could he even be? all he could think of was you, now. 
“do you still believe in god?” you offer him once you’re off him and he’s putting his belt back on. 
he stares at you for a second, hesitating, then his lips part, “yes.” 
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fawnpires · 9 months
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꒰ ₊˚⊹ ᨳ 𝐃𝐁𝐅!𝐊Ö𝐍𝐈𝐆. ꒱ — DBF!KÖNIG.
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꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: age difference, cunnilingus, loss of virginity, innocence kink, könig's a massive pervert (still love him tho), groping, size difference & kink, panty kink, unprotected sex, praising, filmed sex, fingering, teasing, spreading the older man könig agenda.
꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ notes: finally got the motivation to write something again and i literally feel so bad for not writing anything, so i wrote a lil something for my bby könig.
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༉‧₊˚. — dbf!könig enjoyed every single second of being your first time. he was practically infatuated with you—his best friend's pretty little daughter. when your father is another one of those high-ranking colonels along with könig, expect to find him being invited over almost every single day of the week for a simple drink with your father or a casual invitation to dinner. although unbeknownst to your father, there were times with könig that were deemed too debauched when it was just the two of you alone. one particular instance is when he snuck into your bedroom, your father off to sleep with the house to yourself, and könig. once you and him were kept in those four confining walls of your room, the door closed and only the lamp shade providing a minimum of dim lighting; the next thing you knew your legs were thrown and settled on top of the broad slopes of his shoulders, both of his large hands intertwined with your smaller ones while pinning them down to the surface of your mattress. sensual moans laced with softness spilling, at this point, without shame past your parted lips. the thrusts of his ample cock were carried with a firmness yet a loving, comfortable passion into your tightened sopping cunt, knowing that it was your first being so intimate with somebody. "try to relax, mein liebling. you're doing so good, and for your first time too, taking me in all at once like this - taking me all in like the sweet little girl you are."
༉‧₊˚. — dbf!könig was a sucker for everything about you. from your sweet and innocent personality, to your alluring exterior appearance. his favorite part about you was especially the fact that he was so much larger than you, both in height and that built-up military strength earned from his time spent as a colonel. his favorite thing to do was manhandle you into all kinds of different positions once you and him had settled into the routine of casual fuck sessions in secrecy, observing how the bare aspect of your pretty body curved and contorted while he fucked into you. his favorite perspective is when you're laying on your back, legs sprawled on either side of his torso while those hands of his kept a solid grasp on your waist to pull you back and forth on his cock. this never failed to force you into a state of mind where you were drunk on nothing but how his immense size relentlessly pounded into you without mercy. he can't help but allow a cocky smirk to sweep across his lips underneath his sniper hood at your state, temporarily raising the bottom edge of the veil to his nose before inclining the upper half of his body over you to rest his head in the crook of your neck; mouth pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-soaked skin of your neck in contrast to his violent thrusts before speaking in a husky tone, "who would've thought my best friend's daughter would be the best fuck of my life? you're truly a special girl, engel. very special." he comments breathily with a light chuckle that was so full of depth. “such a cockdrunk slut, huh?” his words barely registering in your fucked-out mind.
༉‧₊˚. — dbf!könig constantly finds ways to have his hands on you. sometimes his touches were innocent and loving in the sense—hands resting at your hips, his head leaning downwards to nuzzle the side of his head against yours, or just a simple caress of your hand against the back of his own. but knowing how perverse he was at the same time behind that sweetness. for multiple instances, it wasn't abnormal to find him groping and kneading at the soft, supple flesh of your tits or reaching beneath your skirt and that additional layer of panties to rub at your slick folds teasingly with his calloused fingertips in private or not. he never lets down on his praises though, his fingers would be knuckle-deep and thrusting rapidly in the warmth of your cunt and he would talk to you throughout it, "such a needy girl, hase. just couldn't keep my hands off of you, not when you've got the prettiest damn body i've ever seen." he praises through heavy breaths, his free lovingly rubbing circles into your side while you lost yourself in this spiral of arousal.
༉‧₊˚. — dbf!könig who's well aware how much of a perv he is. to his surprise, he pockets various kinds of your pretty panties either after giving you a good fuck or sneaking into your bedroom unabashedly—relishing in the concept at how confused you would be when you couldn't find them anywhere. instead those panties would be swathed around the throbbing length of his cock while he pumped at himself to the thought of you late at night in privacy; legs spread, his head angled backwards, near-animalistic grunts spewing from his throat, and pre-cum dripping down from the slit at the tip while it decorated the soft lace in a thin, white layer of sticky fluid. underneath that t-shirt sniper mask, his face sheeted over with slick sweat as the heat surrounding inside the cloth mask only piled on with his increasing arousal which ends up with his cum splattered all over your panties. it's not really a surprise anymore if you find somehow find your missing panties returned hanging off the edge of your laundry basket, a little messy reminder of him left in them.
༉‧₊˚. — dbf!könig adores how you look on camera. he'll take you out and rent some motel room for the night, or two if he's feeling special, and you'll find yourself pinned down onto the fresh crisp sheets of the mattress; one of his hands holding both your wrists right above your head, the other holding his recording phone firmly as it was aimed down at you under him. with bare thighs pressed up into the plush of your breasts, he positions the phone on a nearby pillow to hold it up just so he could sloppily eat out with your cunt, spit and all, with his mouth pursing around your swollen clit and his fingers rubbing circles into your dripping folds—creating a perfect angle to showcase both you and him in such a vulgar yet erotic manner. könig then picks up the phone once more as he finishes you off, holding it once more as he spreads your orgasm-slick thighs apart so he could pound his cock away into the tightness of your pretty cunt. every moan, every sound of skin against skin, every touch, is kept solely on that phone of just for him to relieve some stress while he's away from you and your lingering on that mind of his. "look at you, liebchen, like my own lil' personal pornstar. god, i can never get enough of you. look at the camera, baby, eyes on me. it's like you were made for it."
༉‧₊˚. — dbf!könig who was your first time for everything. first boyfriend, first kiss, first time. he can't help but feel a small amount of possessiveness over you knowing that, especially when guys around your age try to make some kind of shitty move on you. he relishes in the fact that he's the only one who could bring you to such heights of sensual pleasure, knowing just the right locations to touch you that caused you to writhe and whimper in the sweetest tones. you had a type of romance with him that you would only see in films, knowing that your father was always the strict type when it came to you and guys getting their hands on you. it wasn't a surprise when you found yourself feeling like the prettiest girl when könig would treat you so much better than boys your age; constantly bringing affection in the form of sweet physical contact while also treating you like his personal fleshlight when he was in need for some stress relief—drawing intense, messy orgasms after orgasms that would be leaving you whimpering and strangely in need for more of him. "könig..." you whined weakly, on the brink of a fourth orgasm with his pounding twitching cock buried between your trembling pulsing walls as you gave könig the most pleading and exhausted gleam in your eyes. it made you sound desperate, like a slut. "i know, engel. just a little bit more, baby. give yourself all to me."
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lunarmoves · 5 months
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"can i have a kiss?"
you abruptly choke on the sip of water you'd been taking, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you cough roughly and loudly into your palm. it's enough to make your throat ache, and you barely register a large hand patting you on your back as you do your best to clear your windpipe.
"pardon?" you eventually force out, voice scratchy as you look up at sun through watering eyes. "what did you say?"
sun's head tilts to the side slightly. it's difficult to parse out what he's thinking with those blank eyes of his. "can i have a kiss?" he repeats for you in the same tone and inflection—light and casual like he's simply asking about the weather.
you blink owlishly at him, then glance around the empty daycare. maybe as an excuse to not look at him. everything was cleaned swiftly today, leaving you with some free time before you had to clock out. you just hadn't expected it to be spent like this, however. you clear your throat and look back at sun. his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides, barely noticeable had he not been standing stock still.
"...what's brought this on?" you ask after a short moment of silence. you're stalling, you know, but you're genuinely curious.
his head tilts the other way, a quiet click coming from his face plate. and then—like he hadn't just been standing before you, still as a statue—he jolts back into an amiable sway.
"oh, you know!" he gushes out, clasping his hands together and making the bells attached to his ribbons jingle with the motion. "we just see the way parents kiss their children at the door! and, well, those kids love to play house a lot too, you see. it's difficult not to notice it when it happens all the time! we are simply..." he trails off, as though searching for the right word. "...intrigued."
"right..." you're not quite buying what he's trying to say. hell, your ears are likely still tinged red from the initial embarrassment of his question. "you give kisses to the kids all the time, though," you point out. they aren't kisses so much as they are little taps of his static smile to their boo-boos or foreheads when they ask. you only know they're intended as kisses because sun lets out an exaggerated mwah every time.
sun only looks at you, something tense along the line of his thin shoulders. you wait, in the silence of the too large daycare, as he seems to ruminate upon something. and when he speaks, it makes something curl tightly in the deepest pit of your stomach.
"that's different," he replies quietly. a pin drops in the far distance.
your tongue suddenly feels too thick for your mouth and you swallow before you reply. "how so?" you find yourself asking. you... you don't quite understand. or maybe you don't want to. maybe you're looking for an answer you're not quite prepared to hear yet. maybe you are ready and you just don't realize it yet.
"they're not you." it's said simply—like saying the sky is blue or grass is green. your lips purse together. you refuse to admit how that makes you feel—how it makes something hot flood throughout your body.
"...there are cameras," you say weakly, trying to fight down the flush crawling up your neck and into your cheeks. was this really happening? was he really asking you this? it's just a kiss, you scold yourself. you're overreacting. he's a robot—it's not like it means anything to him. right? "i'm on shift. i could get fired." it doesn't matter if it's a friendly little peck—anything seen like that with a robot on cameras after the daycare has closed will be detrimental to your career.
"don't you worry your silly little head about that!" sun waves a hand in dismissal, his eyes upturned slightly into white crescents. there's a curve to his smile that you're only minutely wary of. "we've taken care of it!" ...whatever that means. you eye one of the cameras positioned near the ceiling of the daycare, the small red light on it frozen. you... aren't going to question that. you internally sigh.
sun's always curious—always pushing boundaries. always seeing how far he can go with you before you take a step back.
it seems like you'd taken too long to respond. sun closes the small distance between the two of you with a single, long stride, standing before you in a way that makes you crane your head up. your personal space is wiped out in an instant. he bends down until his face is mere inches above yours. and then he waits.
"don't be shy!" he tells you brightly, fingers flexing by his sides. one of his rays twitches atomically. "put 'er right here!" his face plate spins slightly as an indicator.
he's really not leaving you much room for choice here. you huff at his persistence, giving him a small roll of your eyes. and with a deep breath to help ground yourself—keep your head clear and look at this all from an objective standpoint (robot, he's a robot, he's curious, it doesn't mean anything)—you eventually raise yourself up on your tippy toes.
a kiss—as small and feathery as a wisp of wind on a cool, fall day—is pressed delicately to the plating of his forehead. the metal is cool under your touch, a contrast against the warmth of your skin. you don't let yourself linger, dropping back down onto your heels as you clear your throat and force yourself to look at him. he's still watching you—with that too large smile and too squinted eyes.
"there you go," you force out as casually as you can. there's something swarming in your gut and you're not sure if it's a good thing or not. "happy?"
sun's rays spin around once, but he doesn't move away. his smile stretches wider—thinner like a blade. and when he speaks, there's a faint depth to his voice that makes you think of the way moon speaks.
"you missed." he bends down closer to you, the shadows of his lithe form casting themselves across your face. he lifts a hand to tap once against the metal of his smile and the sound seems to echo through the daycare. you stare up at him with wide eyes, a cool prickle making its way down your spine. sun's face plate makes another sharp click. "do it again."
you mouth opens, then closes, until you finally muster up the will to let out a little laugh—albeit a slightly shaky one.
"c'mon, dude, i gave you a kiss." you let out another chuckle and find yourself leaning back just a tad. "i should head out now anyways, it's getting lat—"
before you can even finish your sentence, sun's hands dart out to grip you tightly on your upper arms. trapping you within his hold as he draws you closer. you're forced to look up at him, all tense lines and twitching metallic parts.
"you misunderstand, friend." sun grins wider, the gleam of his teeth sharp in the daycare's lighting. you take the smallest step back. "i wasn't asking."
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moon
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lemonlover1110 · 5 months
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𝐅𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒
Suguru Getou
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Pairing: Suguru Getou x f!Reader
Summary: Suguru needs your help to help him focus on studying again.
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Praising, Vaginal Sex, Creampie
10k Event Masterlist
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Suguru loves to go to you for help, even if it’s a subject he understands better than anyone. You talk so sweetly to him, explaining the topic that’s at hand very patiently. He’s lucky he asks about subjects that he already knows because otherwise, he wouldn’t know a damn thing. He keeps staring at you, focusing on your face and on your body as you speak, eyes occasionally shifting to the bed that’s in the room.
“Focus, Suguru.” You call him out, not wanting your friend to fail his exam. You notice that he isn’t listening, staring at the bit of cleavage that your top allows. He isn’t listening, forcing your hand to go under his chin, moving his head to look at your face. “Focus. You’re not learning.”
“I don’t think I will focus.” He confesses, and you purse your lips together. He licks his lips, relaxing on the chair. “I need your help.”
“And what do you want me to do, Suguru?” You ask, letting go of him. He stands up from the chair, a sly smirk on his face. You immediately know what he’s thinking of, and you roll your eyes. You grab his hand, guiding him to the bed.
“It seems like you already know what to do.” He answers. It’s not the first time that Suguru comes to you, pleading for help for his class– The first time around, he actually needed help, and you ended up making out on your bed. Ever since, he comes around to ask for your help, and he doesn’t end up learning anything, instead, he ends up between your legs or on your bed. Well… Maybe he does learn something new, but not academically.
“You’re going to fail.” You tell him, but it goes in one ear and out the other. He doesn’t care if he fails, his mind is elsewhere. His hands go to your waist, his lips going to yours. His tongue enters your mouth, his fingers going under your shirt and touching your skin. You give in to the kiss, your hands going behind his head and pulling him in. 
His hands go to the hem of your shirt, beginning to lift it up. You help him take it off and he unhooks your bra, tossing it elsewhere. He kisses your lips and kisses down your neck. He reaches your breasts, his tongue circling around your nipple before his mouth wraps around it. His fingers begin to play with your other nipple, while his free hand goes to unbutton your pants. 
“Suguru…” Your voice is barely audible as you say his name, but he knows that by the end of the night that’ll change. He detaches himself from your tit, putting you down on the bed. He takes off your pants, leaving you with your cute little pink panties.
He admires the scene for a moment, and he wishes he could take a picture so he could look back at it whenever he’s feeling… excited. He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip while he begins to tease you through your panties.
He pushes your panties to the side, his fingers running through your folds before they begin to play with your clit. You moan against his lips as his fingers make you feel so good. He gets his fingers wet enough before pushing two inside your cunt. He’s learned how to make you weak with his touch as he slowly gets to know every inch of your body. He curves his fingers so they brush against your sweet spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
Suguru pulls his fingers out, pulling away from your lips. You sit up to better watch him get undressed, and when he’s completely bare, he pushes you down on the bed again. He grabs your legs, and they wrap around his waist while the tip of his cock runs through your folds.
He slowly pushes himself in, shutting his eyes as he feels your warm cunt wrap around him. You softly moan as he fills you up. His fingers really are nothing compared to this. Suguru gives you a moment to adjust to his size, his hands going to your waist. 
“Fuck… Your pussy is so perfect.” He says under his breath, slowly beginning to move. You act annoyed when he can’t focus, but you love it. This is much better than trying to explain any subject to Suguru– A subject he so clearly knows. Suguru’s cock hits all the right spots, bringing you immense pleasure. “You’re so perfect.”
“Suguru…” One hand goes down to play with your clit, your back arches. His nails dig into your skin, as he slowly picks up speed. He leans down, his lips entrapping yours, his tongue moving swiftly into your mouth to press against your own.
You begin to squeeze around him, your climax approaching after being worked up by Suguru. He moans into your mouth, driving you wild. He bites down on your lip before pulling away, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
His cock continues hitting all the right spots as he picks up the pace, and your high approaches rapidly. You see white, loudly moaning his name as your orgasm overtakes you. His nails dig deeper into your skin, surely to leave deep marks after he’s finished.
“You feel so fucking good.” He moans, thrusts slowly becoming sloppy, and his breathing unregulated. You work him up so much that he’s almost disappointed at how fast he finishes with you. 
He moans your name before releasing his cum inside of you, completely filling you up with his seed. He gives a couple more gentler thrusts before pulling out of you. He lays down beside you, and you take a moment to breathe. Until you speak up,
“Now, can you focus?”
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shaguro · 3 months
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— ✰GORGEOUS | ONY
✧ synposis: fucking you after date night is one of ony’s favorite things to do. minors dni.
✧ shanti’s note: now that i got all the fluff out the way, i have to give yall the nasty shit. enjoy. 🩷
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“look at you, takin’ this dick so good for daddy. so gorgeous.” ony groaned, his firm hold on your neck the only thing keeping you coherent. he always got like this after date night and could you blame him? that dress you had on tonight hugged every curve perfectly, high heels accentuated those milky brown thighs. it was only right that the man show appreciation to his gorgeous, gorgeous girl.
he had your legs by your ears as he pounded into you, filling you up with every inch of his dick. and your gummy walls sucked him back in with each roll of his hips, clamping down on him like a vice. “so tight, mama. f-fuck.” he hisses, sweat beads trickling down his glistening forehead. “you love this dick, hm? love when this dick all in your stomach like this?” you can’t even speak, only broken moans and strained pleas fell from your lips. and ony’s so mean, expecting you to respond when you can’t even think straight. but he doesn’t care, angling his hips and slamming them against your inner thighs, his thick tip kissing your cervix perfectly. he leans down, your thighs sandwiched against your stomach, the new, deep position had tears prickling at your eyes.
ony’s a demon, licking the stray tears off your cheek before he’s babbling in your ear, wet tongue tracing your earlobe. “t-tell me you love this dick—“ a deep moan rips from his throat and it’s so sexy, your pussy just gushing at the sound. “ima give you all this nut, gonna fill this pretty pussy—shit.”
“i love this dick d-daddy, you fuck me so— ony! ohmygod right theree.” you’re clinging to him so tightly and you can feel his biceps trembling, a tell-tale sign that he was close. only ony could have you in such a stuttering mess, trying to keep your sanity as he fucked you into oblivion. the man was filthy, it felt almost degenerate how your pussy was doing the talking for you, singing his praises — creaming so cutely around his dick, fluttering and squelching with each snap of his hips.
“this pussy talkin to me baby, ima give her what she want.” he taunted, canines on full display as he flashed a sinister smile. ony straightened his back, standing at his full height; one hand on your pudgy tummy, the other rubbing on your poor clit and that familiar heat formed in your belly, ready to snap at any moment. his thumb on your puffy clit had you seeing stars, no way you could last longer than this.
and ony knew this, that’s why he put both hands on your soft hips and gave you one final thrust, all his dick buried in your cunt.
you were cumming so hard — clenching and sputtering on his length that ony had to nut in you, filling you just like he promised. thick velvety ropes of cum coated your inner walls to the brim, to the point that it was dribbling down his brown shaft, a beautiful contrast to his dark skin.
ony’s eyes were dark and lidded as he looked down at you, drinking in the mess he created. he leaned down, holding your chin to give you a sloppy kiss. passionate, the both of you still panting from your combined orgasm as your tongues wrestled. he rested his forehead on yours when he pulled away, giving you this nasty look and you already knew what he would say.
“round two?”
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@/hoesluvshanti, 2023-2024. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.
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futureman · 6 months
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happiest day
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pairing: mike schmidt x reader
summary: when you least expect it, mike surprises you with a confession
warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, hint of angst, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, mentions of rough sex, requited feelings
word count: <1k
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Mike tells you he loves you for the first time the way no one ever should. Balls deep, while he's cumming inside you.
It tumbles out, a quiet moan at first, then a louder realization that takes both of you by surprise. His hips slam into your ass once, twice, and then he's filling you up, his admission hanging heavy in the air.
You're almost positive you imagined it until he repeats it again with a little more conviction.
"Fuck. I think I'm in love with you," he pants heavily, his hands intermittently squeezing your waist in time with the heady pulsing of his cock.
There's a beat of silence while you struggle to process his words, torn between the warring sensations of his release leaking down your thighs and shock tugging at your ribcage. He slips out of you as he softens, and once your connection is broken, it hits you like a ton of bricks.
"...What?"
He freezes behind you, and you immediately regret your gut response. That's not what you meant to say at all. Of course, it's not. You're just...confused. You hadn't expected it from him, not when you've only been together for a few months. Part of you wants to wait and see if he takes it back, just in case. But he doesn't.
"If...it's okay, you know. If you don't feel the same, it's okay," he mumbles, folding over you to rest his forehead between your shoulder blades.
His breath is warm and humid against your skin as he peppers soft, lingering kisses down your spine. Strong arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you like this might be his last chance, and suddenly it all feels so real. You've been too quiet for too long and now he's afraid.
You haven't told him yet, but there's no need to be. You just can't figure out how. How can anyone possibly cram the immensity of months of pizza nights on the living room floor watching James and the Giant Peach with Abby, and days off work spent tangled in bed, fucking and fighting and forgiving, into three little words?
You try anyway, but what comes out isn't a response. It's a plea. You don't know what you're asking for—you just know you need him.
"Mike," your voice shakes with it. He holds you tighter, and now there's so little space between you, you can't tell where he ends and you begin.
"You don't have to say it. It's okay, I won't be mad. I just...I need you to say something. Anything," he whispers, his day-old stubble rough and grounding as he speaks.
He nuzzles into you, breathing unevenly—nervously—and you realize he's comforting you. Regardless of what you decide, you're still his first priority.
You find his hand where it rests, splayed across your stomach, and lace your fingers with his. Just say it. Just tell him, say it back. There'll be plenty of time to show him how much you mean it.
Because they're not just words. They're not even a feeling. Love is a promise, and you'll keep it.
Taking a steadying breath, you turn in his arms and pull him down on top of you. It's the first time you've seen his face since he got home and wrestled you onto your hands and knees, all searing touches and deep, frantic thrusts. Since he told you he loves you.
His eyes meet yours, darting from one to the other, desperate for an answer, but yours, instead, follow the freckles across his nose down to the curve of his cupid's bow. There is so, so much to love about Mike Schmidt, and he deserves to know it.
"Of course, I love you," you promise, tilting your chin up so your bottom lip just grazes his top.
His face lights up with an unrestrained smile you see so rarely, the one reserved only for you and Abby on his happiest days. You lean forward to kiss him, softly and open-mouthed, and he inhales sharply, his hands shooting down to your waist.
His grip is a little too tight, and you think maybe he's scared you'll take it back, so you wrap your legs around him to hold him right where he is. Then, the kiss deepens and, when his hands start to roam, you realize what he needs.
Mike has always found solace in you, inside you, whenever he's struggling to express or accept what he's feeling, and right now he's asking for reassurance. Hooking your heels behind his back, you tug his hips into yours, and he groans into your mouth as he slips through his release still dripping from your heat.
He's already hard as a rock and bucking into you as if he didn't fuck you into his mattress less than an hour ago, except this time you can see him. The tension between his brows and in his shoulders visibly loosens, and he exhales a sigh of relief the moment he's buried to the hilt.
Enveloped by your warmth and security, it falls from his lips again, over and over—an increasingly sure declaration as he continuously fills you up and hollows you out.
You repeat it back, and it feels good. It feels so good to love Mike Schmidt.
thanks for reading!
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webslingingslasher · 11 months
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Modelling all the new lingerie you bought for frat Peter and he's absolutely losing his mind
i want to preface that this is absolutly size inclusive, i just went with victoria's secret for the branding but we're gonna pretend they have all the sizes and inclusitivity they should.
warnings: a lil smutty
Peter eyed the pink and black paper bag in your hand, he tried to be understanding but there is nothing in that store that’s for him. You said you had a surprise and you got him something, but here you were standing in front of him with a victoria’s secret bag and a wide smile. 
“If you want me to wear womens panties during sex I need to hear you say it now.” 
You laugh, “no, that’s not… wait, would you?” 
“I’d do anything for you.” 
You roll your eyes, “always dramatic, parker.” 
He would. He’d do anything for you, you just don’t believe him yet. 
“No, I got these for you…” you trail and have a hand go digging, you pull up a lacy red lingerie piece. 
Dead silence, you start to feel insecure. Mandy assured you he’d like it, go feral even. But he’s giving you a blank stare, you want to throw the fabric over the balcony. After a crushing thirty second silence you feel warmth flooding your cheeks, you scramble to put the fabric back in. It’s pointless, you’d never be able to look at it again, let alone the store. 
Peter’s eyes widened watching your panicked movements, he was waiting for more information. He supposes it’s pretty but he really doesn’t think he could fit in it, plus this is a pretty major kink to throw on him at once. 
Refusing to make eye contact you ramble, “this was so stupid, I hate myself.” 
“Hey,” 
“Forget this ever happened, this is so embarrassing I have to leave.” 
“Hey,” louder. 
You bulldozed. 
“In fact, I think we could just end this here, peter. I mean this was obviously weird enough for the both-” 
He’s not going to lose you, “I didn’t say anything!” 
“That’s the point! You aren’t into it, Mandy swore you’d like it but-” 
Peter lets out a sigh, “baby, I mean, is that even my size?” 
You stop speaking and blink, you look at the bag and back at your frat boy. 
He thought it was for him, he actually thought you wanted him to dress up for you. 
“No, you dolt! They’re mine, I just wanted to, I dunno.. model them for you.” 
It felt less embarrassing wallowing in silence. 
“Oh.” 
“Oh!” 
A cocky grin spilled over his face, his hands interlocked behind his head and he leaned back on his bed, you watched his core tighten and flex with the movement. 
Peter licked his lips, “please do. Leave red for last, it’s my favorite color.” 
You’re glad he can’t see your shy smile, “I know.” 
The conformation makes the heat blossom in his chest. 
—-------------
Peter loves how you look, he says it every chance he gets, but knowing you put on a skimpy outfit with the goal being observed made you self conscious in a different way. Peter makes sure to dote on you plenty when he’s taking your clothes off, but those are small glances and kisses, this was you presenting yourself and showing off. 
You ran a hand down your torso as you exhaled heavily, you had to trust Peter. You weren’t sure what was happening between you two, it was a weird midway point. It was like you were dating but the casual touching or labeling was way off beat. 
The bathroom door clicks open and you step out boldly. 
“Ready?” 
Your boy’s head lifted off the bed, the first glance sent him scrambling to hit up. His eyes dragged over your body, everywhere he could see he soaked it in, like he was memorizing each curve of your body. It should make you feel self conscious, but he makes you confident. 
“My beautiful girl, hm?” His hands reach out, you step into his hold and feel him explore. You feel his fingertips race across the black lace of your bra, it’s not covering much, you can feel the heat of his hands through the mesh on your chest. 
You squirm as his tracing tickles you, his thumbs resting at your hips, he can’t stop himself. He lifts up the lace hanging from your front, the baby doll thrown over his head as he presses kisses up and down your torso. You sigh and grab the back of his head, you tangle into the curls and lean into him as his fingers dig into the plush on your waistline to keep you close. 
“So fuckin’ pretty,” batty eyelashes blink up at you, he’s a proud simp and munch. He kisses right above your thong, “how’d I get so lucky?”
His words make your knees weak, he always talks like that, like he’s the most lucky person on the planet to have you in his arms. He acts like you chose him, like you picked the short straw, but you were the lucky one. 
You pat his shoulders and step away, “one out of five?” 
No hesitation, “seven.” 
“Cheat. Don’t go anywhere, I have two more.” 
Peter sputters, “as if you have to tell me?” 
—----------------------
This one was a lot more fitting. 
It was bold, it was a nice hunter green, a bold bra and itty, bitty, crotchless panties. 
It felt like everything but your nipples were out, you’d burn this one if you hadn’t put your foot in your mouth about two more. You tap your foot as you look over yourself in the mirror and shake your head. Peter's seen you naked hundreds of times but you felt more exposed than ever before. 
“Petey?” 
Muffled, “yes, baby?” 
You didn’t know where to go from there, you heard movement, then a little closer to the door. 
“You alright, baby?” 
You let out a puff of air, “it’s a lot.” 
He’s connecting dots, “the outfit?” 
“Yeah.” 
Peter lets out an airy laugh, “I hate to tell you babe, but I’ve seen it all and love it more every time I do.” 
You nibble your lip, you just need a hype man, he could be that easily. 
“I’m like, naked naked.” 
“Perfect.” 
“It’s dark green.” 
A whine, “please let me see!” 
You crack the door open and peek out an eye, you see Peter watching the ground before looking up and smiling wide. You swing it open and spin slowly, his eyes not leaving your lower half. Peter crosses to the doorway and pulls at your hips and throws you on the bathroom counter. 
You gasp and watch his eyes trail down, he catches sight between your legs and you close them self consciously, his hand stops the meeting, then taps at your knee with his thumb for you to open back up for him. He takes his time drawing you in, his throat low and scratchy when he speaks. 
“Oh, oh I like these. I like these a lot.” 
Peter’s thumb races up the side of your thigh before gently tracing around your inner thigh and higher, you jostle as he rubs over the space your crotch should be, you choke on air and hit your head against the mirror, you open your eyes to see his locked on your face, his pupils blended into his eyes. 
He circles again and you grab his wrist to push it away, “I still have to show you the red one.” 
“I already saw it, I’m about to get on my knees and worship you.” 
Your cheeks feel like they're on fire, “let me show you the last one, then you can choose which one you wanna take me in.” 
Peter gives a sharp inhale, “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.” 
—-----------------------
A full piece in red, you picked this one out yourself. It screamed Peter, the color, the lace, the style. 
The body had a built in corset, red cinched your waist. The bottom lapels had straps that connected to your thigh belts, this time a cheeky pair of underwear. It contrasted the harsh sex of the bodice, a peek of bum that led more to the imagination, just like your chest being pushed up from the corset. 
It was both the most dressed and undressed you’ve been all evening. The other’s were more uncovered but this one made you feel hot and powerful and confident. 
You didn’t need any help with this one. 
“This gotta be your favorite, right?” 
Peter felt time stop, he was absolutely speechless. He’s never seen you so.. so… gorgeous. A cocky grin, one that told him you knew how good you looked. And he doesn’t care what anyone has to say, his girl wearing his favorite color in lingerie was the down right sexiest thing he’s ever seen. 
His silence doesn’t scare you, it makes you fill with pride. 
“Yeah… that’s the one.” 
You stalked to the end of the bed where he sat, his fingers tugging at your thigh buckles. 
“I’ve never had a girl dress up for me like this.” A delicate confession, while his fingers and hands fondled over your backside and thighs. 
You shrug and run your hand through his hair, “you make me want to dress up for you.” 
Peter pulls at you to straddle his waist, “I’ll never stop being grateful.” 
“Is this the winner? You can take it off whenever.” 
Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “I kinda just like looking at you right now.” 
The black piece was lust. 
The green piece was passion. 
The red piece was love. 
Three things are very clear to Peter Parker in that moment. 
One, he wasn’t sure when, but you were going to be his girlfriend. 
Two, he’s almost eighty percent sure he loves you. 
Three, this is the hardest he’s been in his entire life. 
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ushiwhacka · 1 year
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time skip! ushijima wakatoshi + fem! reader | mdni | 580 words | established relationship, pussy eating, rough sex, creampie, size kink, aftercare, it's just smut <3
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wakatoshi is not usually a vocal lover. he will pant against your ear, hot breath tickling your skin. or grunt, deep and guttural as he slides himself inside of you. breathing heavily, there’s something primal about the way he folds you in half, knees pressed to your chest. eyes dark and heavy with lust but always fixated on you. watching as you arch your back, the sweetest moans leaving your swollen lips. wordlessly attends to your every need, his large hands twisting your body, shaping it around his own until you can feel him on every atom of your skin.
but when he does speak it’s devastating, earth-shattering, it makes your brain foggy with the need to be claimed by him. to be held so close that his scent becomes your scent, to be unable to think of anything else but how good it feels to wrap yourself around him. 
it comes when you’re laying on your bed, feet propped on his shoulders as he spreads your legs apart. massaging the back of your thighs as he slowly drags his lips down towards your pussy. already slick and aching in anticipation. then he lifts his head to look into your eyes as if he’s trying to make sure you hear him. “you’re dripping all over the sheets,” he chokes out, voice hoarse and deeper than usual. olive eyes heavy as he takes in the state of your cunt, puffy and swollen, a bead of slick drooling out of your clenching hole. you gasp as he pushes his tongue against your opening, not letting a single drop go to waste. drunk on the taste of you, his arms close around your thighs, tight enough to bruise. drunk on the soft moans and high-pitched whines that pour out of your lips, the nails clawing into his forearms. so pretty and spread out for him, his to devour.
he’s lost to the feeling of your walls squeezing around him, so snug as he bullies his cock inside your cunt. too big and too thick and throbbing. the fleshy tip pressed against your cervix. pleasure so intense it sends the blood rushing to your head. his powerful body pressing down on you, fucking you into the mattress. drops of sweat rolling down corded muscles, his damp hair tickling your cheeks, the almost suffocating heat of him on top of you, it’s all so carnal. clinging to each other, wanting more and more and more. he’s spent and panting, hips stuttering as he thrusts into you. “can i cum in you?” lips grazing your forehead, desperate pleas followed by desperate thrusts, trying to go deeper. “please, love, i need to cum inside you.” a broken up yes and he buries himself in you to the hilt. your pretty pussy clamping down, milking his cock for every last spurt of thick cum, until you’re full to the very brim. and now he’s the one whining and too sensitive and shuddering above you. 
he holds you in his arms, thick fingers rubbing smoothing circles into your soft flesh, little unspoken apologies for being too rough and too intense. leaves tender, chaste kisses on your temple and your cheeks and on the curve of your jaw. “you know,” you are entirely unprepared for the sentence that follows, “you look so pretty when you cum on my cock.” and it takes every little bit of self control you possess to not straddle him and ride him until he cries.
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thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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