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#usually i can find something i like about games so i’ll say the games were very raw and didn’t hold back which was kinda interesting
luvring · 2 months
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CALLING THEM "DUDE"
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gn!reader | oikawa, akaashi, suna, atsumu, aone
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OIKAWA, predictably, lets his jaw drop and acts as if you’ve broken up with him. he teeters between draping his entire body over yours and whining, or crossing his arms and huffing while turning away. calling you dude feels foreign on his tongue, an insult to you, in tooru’s mind. but he’s nothing if not a little petty, and will call you it until you apologize.
“thanks, dude.”
tooru freezes, plate of cut up fruit in his right hand that mere moments ago, he pictured he’d be feeding you. but now—“dude?”
off the court, he’s nothing but predictable. you bait him with a smile. “yeah?”
“no! what- you called me dude! me?!” tooru holds his free hand to his chest.
“tooru—”
“oh, now i’m tooru? sorry, only the love of my life can call me that and be fed fruit from my personalized platter, bro i don’t know.”
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AKAASHI cares a little—it feels kind of awkward and he finds himself overthinking the term. but once he’s comfortable, he can tell if it’s just something you say or if you’re messing with him, in which case he’ll have a knowing smile as he refers to you as his friend. but if he’s tired, he’ll drag out the bit just long enough to make you regret it.
“you okay, dude?” you ask as he finally comes out from the washroom, ready for bed.
keiji doesn’t respond, the pout on his face and his slow steps speaking for themselves. he climbs into bed, curling into your side and draping an arm over you.
his breath is warm against your collarbone. “no, dude. i think we need to stop capitalism. can i have a hug now?”
wrapping yourself around him, you place a kiss on his head, hair more ruffled than usual. “i’ll collapse capitalism for you.”
“you’re the best, dude. love you, dude.”
“keiji, please.”
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SUNA doesn't really care. the times rintarou 'takes offense' are for a bit, and he sounds amused the entire time. if you don't care either, he'll call you “dude” himself and means nothing negative about it. this isn't to say he won't call you "baby" or "babe" or even "hon," but he—in his words—considers a large nickname vocabulary to be diverse and for the better.
"what the fuck are you talking about, dude?" you laugh.
rintarou rolls onto his back to look at you as you rest against the bed's headboard.
he squints at you and frowns—the look of disbelief on his face isn't at the term, but your reaction. "you're supposed to get me like no one else as the love of my life."
you raise an eyebrow. "maybe you should try making more sense?"
"i'm gonna 'dude-zone' you until you take that back."
"rin—"
"what, dude?"
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ATSUMU instinctively responds as if you were osamu, not used to hearing the word in your voice. as soon as it clicks, he's as offended as you'd expect him to be. it becomes nonsensical bickering as soon as you act offended, until you're both laughing and ‘apologizing’ to each other.
“dude, where is my towel?”
“huh? i dunno, why would i touch your nasty ass towel?” he asks, eyes honed in on the game on his monitor.
you blink, and a moment passes before atsumu pauses and whips around. “wait, ‘dude’?”
his expression mirrors yours as laughter builds in your stomach. “what the hell did you just say to me?”
“y’just called me dude!”
“my nasty ass towel?”
atsumu’s own words finally hit him and he stutters, “babe- wait- i thought you were ’samu—”
“samu?!”
“wait—”
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AONE’s gotten so used to you calling his first name, or using terms of endearment that he thinks he’s done something wrong. his anxiety doesn’t last long, not when you take a look at his hesitant expression and posture while he works up the courage to ask about it. he wishes it didn’t bother him so much, but he admits that he’d like having a special name, or just his first instead.
“hey, dude, can you pass me my charger?”
“...huh?”
“my charger? it’s next to the couch by your feet,” you explain.
takanobu’s brows furrow as he quietly picks it up and hands it to you. he wonders if he’s imagining things when you shoot him your regular smile and thank him.
a few minutes go by, and it’s nowhere near unusual for the both of you to sit quietly together, but he hasn’t sat comfortably since you asked for your charger. moving closer, you apologize and hold onto his arm. “’m kidding, ’nobu, just wanted to see your reaction.”
his body relaxes as the both of you lean into each other, and he smiles, albeit a little embarrassed. “that’s good to know.”
“...i like your nicknames for me more.”
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my new tag list form if you'd like to be tagged! ^^ sorry old tag list. love u.
@dira333 i know u like aone.. i don't write for him a lot but He is here. thought of u. and @reverie-starlight u r of course my local tsumu fan. YAAAY!!!
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javiscigarette · 10 months
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Good Luck Charm
Joel Miller x f!reader (pre outbreak)
Summary: Joel loves the Texas Longhorns and you're just needy (someone please make an edit of him wearing any Longhorns merch im begging)
Warnings: smut (duh), established relationship, mainly just cockwarming, with a daddy kink, and heavy on the dirty talk, cream pie, ass play, whatever else I'm forgetting, no use of Y/N
w/c: 3.3k
A/N: Here's something no one asked for! This definitely isn't my best work but I'm in a funk rn and it's the best I could do! Also hello daddy kink apparently! Oh! And I hit 1k followers a while ago so thank you for that!!! So many hugs and smoochies for everyone ilysm guys 😚🫶🥰❤️❤️❤️ ALSO the AMAZING EDIT MADE BY @serenaxpedro !!!!
my masterlist
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There were two things that Joel loved wholeheartedly: you and the Texas Longhorns. 
Joel goes all out for football season. Each year, as soon as September rolls around, you rarely find him without his Longhorns cap on. In the car, it’s not music, it’s a live radio broadcast or a recap of the latest game. And God fucking forbid if you even thought about touching the TV on a Sunday or Monday night.  
And now It’s a Sunday evening in September and the Longhorns are playing, which means Joel is completely preoccupied.  
You waltz down the stairs and into the living room clad in nothing but his Longhorns t-shirt that ends at your midthigh. You find him sitting on the couch, a half empty bottle of beer in his hand with his eyes glued to the screen. He doesn’t notice you at first and you have to stand practically right in front of the TV for him to take his eyes off the screen. When he finally does, he rakes his eyes over your body, a crooked smirk spreading across his face when he sees what you’re wearing.
Thankfully, you caught him at the start of a commercial break. So, he leans back and pats his knee and beckons you over with a soft “C’mere pretty girl.” 
It’s the first bit of attention he’s given you all evening, so you happily bounce over to him and climb into his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his hips and your arms draped around his neck. 
“You look so fuckin’ good in this, angel” Joel says, his voice already husky with arousal as he smooths his hands up your thighs. 
“Thank you, daddy” you whisper with an innocent giggle. 
He looks up at you and cocks an eyebrow. You’re no stranger to calling him that, but Joel usually has to spend a lot more time taking you apart for you to use it. 
“You gettin’ needy, sweet girl?” he coos, his hands sliding over your hips and over the curve of your ass. 
You don’t say anything, just grind your hips down harshly, moaning softly at the friction. Joel chuckles at your eagerness while palming at your ass. 
“The game is almost over, angel. Just one more quarter and then I’ll play with you all you want.” 
You huff in frustration. 
“But you’ve been in here all day” you whine. 
Joel laughs again. 
“I’ve barely been in here for two hours, angel. Think you’re just needy” he retorts, poking you in the side with a playful smile.
You huff again and tug at the curls at the nape of his neck as you roll your hips against his. 
“Please?” you ask, your voice drenched in desperation. “I’ll be a good girl and stay still so you can watch the game. Just wanna feel you inside me.” 
Joel eyes you and his hands tighten on your hips as you continue to move against his. 
“Can’t say no when you ask so pretty like that.” 
You grin ear to ear and Joel rolls his eyes. 
“Needy and spoiled” Joel teases as he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt. 
With his eyes fixed on yours, his palms slide up your thigh, leaving goosebumps on your skin in their wake. He reaches the crease of your thigh and stops suddenly with a sharp inhale. He raises an eyebrow at you as he trails his fingers over the bare skin that should be covered by your panties. 
You look at him, feigning innocence as you chew on the corner of your lip to suppress a mischievous smile. He narrows his eyes at you as he slowly slides a finger along your already soaking wet seam. You’re far too wet and swollen just from sitting in his lap for less than two minutes. And when he slides a finger into your leaking hole, he can obviously feel it. He looks down and sees the wet spot that’s already forming on the front of his jeans. 
“Needy, spoiled, and naughty” he purrs, his voice low and gravelly. “S’that what you were doin’ up there all by yourself, babygirl? Stretchin’ your sweet little pussy so you could come down here and sit on daddy’s cock?” 
All you can manage is a vigorous nod, a needy whine, and another roll of your hips, trying to get his finger deeper inside you. He graciously slips in a second finger with minimal resistance and lets out a soft groan as your leak starts to leak past his fingers and drips to his palm. 
“Tell me how you did it” Joel commands calmly as curls his fingers and starts moving his wrist with languid strokes.
You whimper pathetically and clench tightly around his fingers as he slowly strokes your g-spot. 
“J-just on my fingers, daddy” you whimper while trying to grind your clit against his palm.
Joel hums suspiciously.
“How many?”
“Just shit – just two.”   
“Did you cum, babygirl? Did you cum with your fingers stuffed in your little cunt?” 
Joel’s voice is so low now, his gravelly timbre sending a shiver down your spine. You shake your head and whine again and nose at his neck, hoping that a few neck kisses might distract him. But of course, they don’t. 
“C’mon, sweetheart. Be a big girl and use your words” 
“No, daddy” you mumble, dropping your head to avoid his gaze. 
Joel moves a hand from your thigh to under your chin, tilting your head up and forcing you to look at him again. 
“Why’s that angel?” he presses. 
“Needed you, daddy. Couldn’t do it myself. Didn’t want to do it myself” you confess, your cheeks heating up at the admission. 
Even after all this time with Joel, he still easily made you a blushing, flustered mess within seconds. 
“My poor little baby” Joel coos with sarcastic empathy. “Just a needy little slut for daddy’s cock, huh?”
You nod shyly and tug at his hair again. Joel just smirks at you before focusing on the screen again. 
“Get it out then, angel. Game is ‘bout to start again” 
With a jolt of excitement, you scramble to tug his pants halfway down his thighs. Your mouth waters when you free his cock, his length hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your eyes flicker up to him and he looks at you through the corner of his eye, gives you a slight permissive nod then looks back at the TV. 
You move to hover over him before you start slowly sinking down on his cock, both of you moaning in unison at the sensation of him stretching your tight walls. It’s a stretch, it always is, especially when he doesn’t get the chance to open you up on his fingers. 
“You’re so big, daddy” you pant breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulder as you stretch yourself out on his length. 
“Don’t tell me it’s too much after begged to be filled, baby.” Joel chides. 
You make a small noise and double down on your efforts. You whimper softly as you start sinking again, feeling every single inch of him stretch you out your little hole so deliciously. You exhale deeply once you’re full seated. Joel lets out a quiet groan and tightens his grip on your hip. 
“God fuckin damn, babygirl” Joel says quietly. “Always so tight for your daddy.” 
Your sink your teeth into your lower lip, biting back a moan at his words, trying to prove to him that you can be good. It takes a moment for you to resist the urge to ride him, but soon enough the desperation melts into relaxation, the feeling of being so full of him satisfying all your needs. He’s not even fully hard yet and your walls tingle and flutter around him as he continues to swell inside of you. With a sated sigh, you lay your head on his broad shoulder, and you let your eyes close. He holds you close to him, a protective arm draped over you stroking your back absentmindedly. 
“S’this all you wanted, sweet pea? Just needed daddy inside of ya?” he asks, his hand still gliding over your back and occasionally squeezing your ass. 
You nod and snuggle up into him even more. You could die happy right here, stuffed full of Joel with his heart beating against your cheek, warm and safe in his embrace. 
There’s no resisting falling into the overwhelming sense of tranquility that settles deep in your bones. Your breathing starts to slow down as you melt against his body and your head goes fuzzy when you bury your face in the junction of his neck and inhale the intoxicating scent of fresh laundry mixed with his cologne. You’re vaguely aware that Joel is talking to the TV, the sound of his voice fading in and out of your head. But you don’t bother making any sense of the words. You just focus on the rumble of his chest as speaks. 
After a few quiet minutes, he reaches over to the side table to pick up his beer, jostling you around a bit in the process. You make a small noise at the movement, his cock sliding just a bit further inside you to press against that spot deep inside you. You can feel every twitch and surge of his cock inside you, your body responding with a fresh gush of slick to each one, leaving you dripping mess in his lap. 
Joel finishes his beer in two gulps and sets it back down on the table before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You’ve been good so far, staying still and not moving like you promised and the game is almost over. So, Joel decides to give you a little reward. 
He brings his free hand up to your face and traces the line of your jaw and cheekbone with a knuckle. You practically purr and nuzzle into the gentle touch. And as if he can read your mind, probably because he can at this point, he rests two fingertips, cool and damp from the condensation on his beer bottle on your lips. 
You automatically part your lips, giving him silent permission to slide his fingers into you warm, wet mouth. He can’t stop the groan that bubbles up out of his throat as you suck his fingers mindlessly, your cunt clenches rhythmically around him.
He turns his head away from the screen just long enough to see your eyes rolling in bliss under your closed eyelids with drool starting to dribble out past his fingers and down your chin. 
“Bein’ so good, pretty girl” he whispers, pushing his fingers further back and pressing down against your tongue, making a strained sound when you gag. 
“Sound so pretty too gaggin’ on my fingers like that.” 
You keen at his praise and reflexively roll your hips. He shushes you and tightens his grip on your hip, keeping you in place. You squeeze your eyes shut and pant against his neck when he resituates again, his thick head now firmly pushing against your sweet spot. 
You let out a soft mewl, the sound muffled by the fingers shoved down your throat. Joel hisses quietly when you dig your fingernails into the backs of his shoulders. There will be some pretty marks there in the morning. 
“Game’s almost over, sweetpea. Can you hold on for five more minutes? Can you do that for daddy?”  
You nod lazily against him and try to stay as still as possible. You want to be good; you really do. But it’s a herculean effort with him buried so deep inside of you, pressing against all the right places. 
Joel slowly slides his fingers out of your mouth and shushes you again when you whine quietly. You open one eye to watch as he lowers it behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing but your certainly feel it when he spreads your cheeks with one hand and feels where you’re connected. 
“Oh, baby” Joel sighs, feeling how much you’re leaking out around him. “Making such a mess, sweet girl.” He whispers roughly. 
He gathers some of your slick on his already spit-soaked fingers before moving his finger higher to circle your tight hole. 
“Daddy!” you whine, lifting your head in surprise to look at him. 
“Hush, baby” Joel commands. He doesn’t even look at you as he cradles the back of your head with his freehand and forcing you to rest your head back on his shoulder. He stopped watching the game a while ago, but he keeps his gaze fixed to the TV knowing that his lack of attention gets you all the more worked up.  “Let daddy play with his little toy.” 
His hand leaves your head and spreads you open once again. And all you can do is lie there, helpless, and desperate at the mercy of your lover’s hands. 
“You’re so naughty, baby” Joel whispers, as he prods at the tight ring of muscle. “All you little holes are so tight for your daddy. Just for me, huh?” 
You nod and open your mouth to speak but he starts pushing a finger in you and all the comes out is a wanton cry. 
“Jesus Christ” He curses when you tighten even more around him, absolutely obsessed with how your body reacts to his touch. 
You try your best to stay still as he keeps pushing his finger in slowly. But you keep clenching around his cock, and he keeps twitching in reaction creating a circular kindling effect that drives you crazy. 
“Can’t daddy” you whimper pathetically, breath fanning over his neck, hot and humid. 
“But you are, babygirl” Joel reassures, pushing his finger all the way inside of you, groaning at all the different ways your squeezing him. “Takin’ me so well sweetie god you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” 
You moan again, the sound going straight to Joel’s ear and travelling down his spine as a hot tingle. You give an experimental roll of your hips, testing him and seeing what he’s willing to let you do. And he doesn’t stop you. 
With his finger buried in your ass and his cock stuffed in your leaking cunt, you start gently rolling your hips, gasping at the new sensations with each movement. Joel’s chest heaves with each breath as you slowly build up speed against him.
It doesn’t take long at all for you to find the perfect angle that lets you grind your clit down against the patch of hair at the base of his cock. It’s too fucking much to handle and the pool of molten liquid in your abdomen is quickly growing as you hurtle towards your release. 
“Oh, daddy please” you whine desperately between loud moans. 
“What do you need, angel?” Joel asks like he doesn’t already know. “Tell me. Tell daddy what you need.” 
You gulp for air, but you still can’t get a good breath. You’re so full of him. Every square inch of your skin is on fire now, every touch feels so good, his scent is filling your head and you can’t think straight. 
“Need – fuck daddy! – I need to cum, I’m gonna cum please let me daddy please” you babble, now clawing at his shoulders. 
“Shh baby it’s okay. You’ve been so good for me, lemme feel you cum all over my cock, sweet girl.” 
You moan in relief and start to allow the pleasure to take over your body. Joel watches in amazement as you fall apart on top of him when he barely even had to move a muscle. You keep your face buried in his neck and Joel groans at the sounds your making so close to his ear. You start trembling on top of him as your moans grow louder and louder, letting him know you’re seconds away from release. He keeps his finger inside of you and wraps his other arm around your waist, holding you flush against his body. 
“Lift up a bit, baby” Joel grunts into your hair. 
You barely hear him, but the last working part of your brain process his words and your body automatically complies. You press into your knees and your thighs shake as you lift yourself up off of him just slightly.  
The next second, Joel slams his hips up into yours, chasing after your tight, wet heat, already needing to be buried inside of you again. You scream as he pounds into you, his pace brutal and unwavering. Liquid heat surges through your veins and your hypersensitive walls grip him like a vice as the hot coil in your abdomen starts to unravel. 
Joel doesn’t stop as you start to cum. If anything, he speeds up. He punches up into your g-spot with each thrust over and over and over again, desperate to draw out your orgasm for as long as possible. More hot slick starts gushing out of you around him and Joel can’t believe how drenched you are right now. 
“There you go babygirl. Soak daddy’s dick” Joel rasps, his voice cracking as he starts to chase his own orgasm. 
The way he can feel himself move inside you, just a thin wall separating his cock and finger combined with the feeling of you sinking your teeth into his neck is making him absolutely feral. He’s only seconds behind you. He’s been just as affected, just as turned on as you this whole time. He’s just a lot better at hiding it. 
“You want daddy’s cum, angel?”  Joel pants, his eyes rolling back when you tangle your finger in the curls at the base of the neck and pull. 
You nod fervently and choke out “Yes, daddy! Please, want it inside” between long, loud moans. 
“M’gonna fill you up, sweet girl. Have so much for you. Just for you, baby.” 
You cry out at Joel’s promise and tug even harder at his hair and suck at the skin between your teeth. That’s all it takes for him to break. His fingertips dig into your ribs, and he pulls you down on top of him then empties himself inside you, unloading ropes and ropes of hot cum into your awaiting pussy. He holds you impossibly close and gives your moans a run for their money with the sounds he makes. 
“Baby, baby jesus fuck you’re so good” Joel huffs as you continue to move your hips, riding out and extending both of your orgasms for as long as possible. 
You’re both completely unaware of how much time passes as the two of you sit there, panting and trying to catch your breaths. Joel moves his hand from your waist to your hair, gently stroking and grunting softly as you keep spasming around him as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through your body. He brushes the hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear so he can get a good look at your face, your eyes closed, eyebrows drawn together and your mouth hanging open as small whimpers tumble past your lips. 
“You look so pretty all fucked out like this, baby” Joel murmurs. 
You slowly open your eyes and look up at him with hooded lids. He gives you a soft smile that heats you from the inside out and fills your heart with a warm fuzzy feeling. You give him one in return, the corners of your lips curling up into a crooked grin. 
“Thank you, daddy” you mumble, your voice rough and ruined. 
“Anything for you, sweet girl” Joel says quietly as he cards his fingers through your hair. “Anything.”  
He looks at you for a few more moments, wishing he could burn the image to the inside of his eyelids to look at forever. But the sound of the announcers on TV catch his attention and he flicks his eyes to the screen. 
He looks back at you with a wide, giddy smile. 
“Did we win?” you ask, your words slow and syrupy. 
“Sure did, angel” Joel says happily before leaning down to place a kiss to your temple. “You’re my good luck charm, baby. Think you need to do that for every game from now on”
You giggle and let your eyes slip close again, finally fully satisfied. 
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Thank you for reading!! please let me know if you liked it I need extra validation rn
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zealousllamawolf · 9 days
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Book Club (Alastor x Reader)
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Parings- Alastor X Reader
!!Minors DNI with this post. R-18+!!
Summary- Reader unknowingly drugs tea for themselves leaving them vulnerable in the presence of Alastor
Word count- 5.5k words
Tags- bloodletting, p in v, rough sex, masturbation, crush against Alastor, drugged slightly. First time Reader, bondage, SMUT SMUT SMUT.
~~~
   It’s been ages since you could curl up somewhere quiet with a book. You struggle just to find time to be alone with the constant chaos of the other residents at the hotel. So, when Charlie announced at breakfast that everyone was welcome to come to dinner with her father, Lucifer, at his manor you were excited to decline. 
  You had just been given a new book by Angel that seemed interesting and romantic. Romance books held a special place in your heart even when you were still alive. You could see yourself as the main character being loved by someone to the fullest and that was all you needed for the most part. You never had a lot of romantic experiences on earth and surely not in hell. You did not trust anyone enough to be that vulnerable in front of them. 
  Well, that is not entirely true. There was Alastor, but it is not like you could trust him, you had the tiniest infatuation with him. He was always slithering out from the shadows invading your personal space. Even though you didn’t mind the close proximity whenever Alastor came up behind you to grab something that was in front of you, he would lean down close to your ear apologizing, “I am sorry for the intrusion, darling’’, only his voice was deeper than his usual charming range, while his tone scratched a deep itch inside your body. You can never help the heat building between your legs when you feel his breath on your neck as he slips away grinning triumphantly.
  Every time you felt his presence in the room you tried to keep yourself from trailing him with your eyes as he struts proudly with Charlie helping her with whatever she needs for the hotel but in most cases, you could not keep your eyes to yourself. Sometimes Alastor senses your heavy gaze so he turns and looks at you but instead of looking away he just stares at you his grin growing when warmth spreads to your cheeks leaving you hot and flustered forcing you to break from his stare. 
  None of this matters anyways it is not like he means anything by it. It is all just a part of the cruel game he plays to find enjoyment in the suffering of lowly demons. You sigh and shake your head, sitting up straighter. Looking around your plate is full while everyone else’s is almost finished.
  “Are you okay dear? Your plate seems… untouched” Alastor asks grinning, but his smile did not reach his eyes, seemingly concerned, his question forcing all eyes on you. “Wouldn’t want my little helper to starve now,” he said statically, preceding to stare you down.
  “I- um... I am not hungry this morning. I am fine, thank you,” forcing yourself to only look at Alastor for a moment before looking at Charlie. You squeeze your legs tight trying to refrain from thinking about Alastor ‘s back, flush with yours, cursing yourself for thinking about him in that way. “I was actually thinking about staying back while you guys go to dinner.” 
  Charlie frowns for a second before whipping up a reassuring smile “Oh, that’s okay! We will miss you but sometimes you just need a good RnR,” she smiles and finishes the last bite on her fork.
  “Yes, thank your princess,” looking at Angel, wiggling your eyebrows. “I am going to spend the night reading the book you gave me.” You playfully say with a smile barely able to contain your excitement bouncing up and down slightly. 
  Angel cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh sugar, I am not sure that’s going to be very relaxing,” chuckling the spider demon smiles not willing to share his thoughts on the book further. 
  “Reading in general makes me relax I am sure I’ll be fine pretty boy,’ you giggle at the pet name and smile back at Angel who in return gave you a toothy grin. 
  “If you say so (y/n),” Angel says, picking up his plate and walking towards the kitchen. 
  Alastor grin softens as he sees how excited you were, hoping you would turn to look at him with the same sparkle your eyes gave Angel. Grin widening further he had an idea.
  “If you would not mind, dear, I would love to join you while you read. I have a couple radio show ideas that need to be put on paper,” he asks charmingly.
Just the thought of sitting next to Alastor made your cheeks flush and heartbeat rapidly. “Well, by all means come along, I-I wouldn’t mind the company,” you stutter slightly as the last part rushes out of your mouth, unable to control yourself.
  ‘How bold of you’, you thought to yourself, bringing your cold hands to your face trying to settle the burning heat you feel on your cheeks. ‘Why did I say that?’ You ask yourself, quickly coming undone when you think about being alone with Alastor. Temporarily unable to breathe you force yourself to cut up some of the cold food on your plate. A meaningless task you thought ‘Why did he even want your company?’
  “Very well, dear,” Alastor says as he gets up from his seat walking to your chair, only to stop a couple inches from where you sat, he leaned down and spoke softly in your ear. “Now, finish your breakfast darling.” You inwardly groan as his breath whisps past your neck. All you could do was sink slightly further into your chair and nod.
~~~
  You spend the rest of the day doing your laundry coming to and from your room on the second floor to the basement. Grateful for the mundane task you sigh contently thinking over your love life. Why hadn’t you branched out and at least experienced someone giving you pleasure? You always became hot and bothered from reading about love and sometimes lust, why could not you indulge with someone tangible. Your attraction towards these fiction man had overpowered any attraction for anyone in your real in your life. No one ever came close.
  Your mind drifted to Alastor, the sound of his voice or his closeness brought a flood between your legs and a small knot of tension in your stomach every time you saw him. It is not like you’ve never felt arousal before, buts it’s never been this strong for someone you could interact with. You shake your head and let out a frustrating sigh, trying to clear your thoughts as you gather up the rest of your last load, making your way back up to your room carrying your laundry basket.
  You decided once you reached your room to take a shower to try to clean off the dirtiness of your mind, swearing Alastor had a sixth sense for that, never failing you use it against you to make you flustered.
You take a short shower coming out of your bathroom wrapped in a towel as you make your way to your bed covered in folded clean clothes. Wrestling up some comfortable shorts and a large long sleave-shirt you get dressed without putting on a bra. Why would you? When you were alive that is how you dressed when you were lost in a book, why not be comfortable allowing yourself to let go today.
  Standing up off your bed you go to your bookshelf grabbing your Angels book and start to head downstairs to the kitchen to make tea and milk, your comfort drink for reading. When you make your way downstairs in the lobby, you are greeted by the crew getting ready to leave for Lucifer’s dinner.
  “Wow, you all look amazing.” Looking down at your lounge wear you suddenly felt embarrassed with how you were dressed.
   “Thank you (y/n), you look very comfy!” Charlie smiles as she bounces up and down while Vaggie tries to calm her, giggles some.
  You blush looking down to rub your feet together as Angel comes over grabbing your hand, raising your arm up and spinning you around with a twirl.
“Now, this is what I want to be wearing”, you giggle feeling the blush lift, Angel always making you feel instantly better. He reminded you a lot like a friend you had when you were alive, making you feel safe.
  “We should probably get going, don’t want to worry Dad.’’ Charlie chuckles as she practically out the door with Vaggie in tow, while everyone is waving and reciting their goodbyes the door finally closes behind them.
  Standing alone in the lobby you are left feeling empty, second guessing yourself on staying home. ‘Maybe you should have gone with them instead,’ you shook your head, chiding your own thoughts. ‘No’ you needed this; you have not had a real escape since showing up in hell.
  You skipped your way to the kitchen to prepare your tea. After successfully having the patience to wait for your tea bag to seep you poured what tastes and smells like milk into your tea, not noticing the label that fell to the floor reading ‘Property of Angel DO NOT touch’, gathering your book and mug you head to the bar.
  You grab a piece of paper and pen so you could write a note to Alastor letting him know where you were in case, he would hold to his word, which you were still unsure if he really meant it or if it was a part of his game.
I will be on the outside patio.
Waiting patiently
(y/n)
  Satisfied, you grab your things and make your way to the patio, a place you often came for some peace. You smile when you realize the fading light will be enough to read naturally for a little bit before the lights around the patio will turn on and the fireflies will be flicking just past the garden’s tree line. After a long gulp of your tea, you grimace at the overwhelming sweet taste, placing your mug down on a side table next to the comfortable outside couch. ‘Must have put too much sugar in.’ Shaking your head.
You settling down with your back leaning against the cushioned arm, you stretch your legs out before bringing your knees up close towards your chest allowing space for you to curl up with your book. Before you could start, you hear static in front of you and the air chilling around you slightly. You look up to see Alastor appearing with his shadows fading away around him as he sat with his legs crossed with a pen and pad laying on his lap.
  “Good evening, darling,’’ Alastor immediately noticed how your cheek grew into a deep crimson, but that is not all he noticed. Your feet were slightly apart and with the way your knees were placed you gave him quite the view. Your shorts had bunch up outlining your cunt perfectly, your puffy lips outrageously enhance by the middle seam of your shorts.
  “Hello Alastor,” looking down you flip your book opening it, holding in a moan since saying his name had influence on you making you clench your core suddenly heat spread between your legs.
  When Alastor saw your cunt clench, he almost let out a groan feeling rapid swelling against his pants. How did you have such a hold on him? He wanted to grab your ankles, pull you to him and rip off your shorts so he could finally taste your sweet-smelling core.Tearing his gaze away he sat there lost in his mind before you broke him of the spell you had on him.
  “If you’re okay with it I am going to start,’ you say as you flip to the first chapter, you look up and see Alastor’s smile stained. “Hey Al… you are doing, okay?” You ask though before you could start worrying, his smile changed softly.
“Go ahead darling, I am okay I am just thinking though some interesting ideas for my radio show.” You nod, returning your focus to your book.
  You and Alastor sat in silence for a while as you read long enough for the patio lights to have turned on. The tone of the book was unbelievably sexual from the first chapter. Graphic depictions of the two lovers sex life were… well it was making you more aroused. The male companion was exactly what you would want in the bedroom. Something you have fantasized repeatedly but you could not help picturing Alastor as the main male character. You being chained and dominated under him, wrists tied to a bed unable to do anything while you were being taken.
  Your core ached desperate for some attention, it had become overwhelming to say the least, your cunt clenched over nothing countless time. How could I get this horny after reading this book, it felt unreal, the aching increase and you almost let out a moan. ‘Oh my god what has gotten in you?’ you start to question reality now. Trying to clear your head you shifted slightly drawing Alastor’s attention back to you while your mind was captured with the scene being played out in your head unable to focus on your book.
  Alastor’s gaze shifted from your blushing, sweaty face to your cunt that was already beginning to leak with your arousal causing a wet spot on your shorts clearly, the fabric becoming slightly transparent forcing him to know the color of your panties. He felt his cock twitch aching for some friction. All he wanted to do was run a finger down your wet shorts, just to see what type of reaction you would make. Suddenly you throw your legs over the side of the couch, planting your feet on the ground unable to control your shaking legs. Alastor quickly looks down at his notepad afraid of getting caught looking at your cunt rubbing a hand across his face to try to mask his flustered face.
 Panting slightly, with your head hanging low you try to catch your breath as the aching became too much. Every part of your body felt sensitive like it was on fire and needed a release. You had to get away from Alastor and quickly, he could not see you like this. Lifting your head, you look in front of you noticing the fireflies pulsing in the distance. Perfect. Unable to think rationally you hop up on your feet and turn to Alastor.
  “I-I am going to go um… L-look at the… um fireflies! For a minute,’’ panting you try to regain your composure but Alastor sensed something was wrong, so he reaches out and grabs your hand sending electric shocks up your arm. You flinch and pull your hand back throwing it up to your mouth coving a small barely audible gasp.
  “Are you okay dear? You seem…wound up’’ his voice dropping an octave, your core throbbed at his voice wondering if that’s what he would sound like fucking you dumb.
“Y-yess, I am fine” sucking in a breath, you say, “I just need a minute to take a break.’’
  It takes everything in you to not run as fast as possible to find cover somewhere you could relieve the heat that was continually bubbling at your core. Finally making your way past the tree line and out of Alastor’s line of sight, crouching down on the fountain in the middle of the garden you collapse to the ground to your knees bracing yourself on the stone edge.
  Confused Alastor he picked up your book wondering if it was the cause of your sudden mood shift, peeking through a couple paragraphs only to find a complete description of a couple in an intimate moment. He looked up to where you had gone, a thought peeking is interest. He follows after you staying back some to see what you would do.
  Stuffing your hand under your panties, you instantly find your throbbing bundle of nerves and start to rub in circles causing you to moan loudly, confident you were out of ear shot from Alastor so you felt free to let go.
  You need more. Quickly you pull your shorts down a little with your spare hand, giving yourself a little more room to move further to your cunt entrance.You slide a finger down your slit and circle around your core getting your finger wet before entering yourself. “Oh… fuck,” you moan again.
  You have never felt anything like this before, everything feels more intense and sensitive. It would normally take minutes of fingering yourself to even reach this level of pleasure, but this was something different. Your walls clenched as you go deeper and found your sweet spot gently pressing back and forth, with this you are melting further down, unable to keep yourself up.
Alastor’s grinning face flashes against your tightly shut eyes like it has so many times before when you have touched yourself. You could not help but moan, “A-Alastor…” saying his name made your core tighten and started to spasming around your finger reaching your climax.
“Oh, you have been a naughty little girl’’, you gasp hearing Alastor’s voice behind you. Panting still coming down from your orgasm, you turn slowly facing him pulling your hand out of your shorts quickly.
“OH my, Alastor I-“
  “No need to explain dear’’ his smirk widening. “I did hear my name though. Were you touching yourself at the mere thought of me perhaps?”
  How did he hear that? Was he standing here the whole time?
  Bashfully you say in a quiet voice, “Y-yes’’ unable to hide your lust and desire throbbing from your inflamed cunt, you lower your head hoping he wouldn’t notice.
  Alastor’s in front of you in seconds using his staff to lift your chin forcing you to look at him. “It’s quite alright little doe” he leans down at the waist inches from your face making you squirm feeling his breath on your lips. “In fact, I have wanted to sample your taste for some time now,’’ with a strained smile, “All you have to say is one word, and I could help with your…” shifting his staff he trailed it down your stomach stopping right before he reached your cunt. “Problem.”
  Shamefully you could not say no so you whisper “Yes,’’ breathing out.
  Immediately after you respond he’s pressing his lips to yours, licking his tongue at your bottom lip you, asking for permission before proceeding. You moan against his lips finding yourself lost as he enters your mouth as his tongue searches yours, teeth lightly nipping at your bottle lip.
Your body lights up in that moment, you lean forward and wrap your hands around his neck pulling him closer as you rake your fingers though his hair. Stifling a moan, air whips around both of you, next thing you know, you find yourself on top of something soft. Your head starts to swarm, and your body starts to heat up just like before, telling you it needed to be touched.
  You break the kiss and lean your head back, breathing out as Alastor trails kisses down your jawline stopping before latching on to a sensitive spot. “Alastor… please I need…” You voice catching when he drags a claw down your side until he reaches the hem of your shirt. You shudder as his hand moves under slowly and slides up over your bare rib cage before stopping just under your breast.
  ‘’You need what, (y/n), be a good girl and use your words.” His hand moves up cupping your breast and runs a finger over your hard nipple making you moan and lean back forcing him to straddle one of your thighs with his knee pressed up against your cunt. You grind yourself against his leg, groaning as your eyes cloud with lust at the much-needed friction.
“T-touched. I need to be touched more.’’ It was all you could make out before Alastor rubs circles around your nipple making you shiver all over.
  “As you wish my sweet girl.” Alastor snaps and you are laying there completely bare in front of him. You let out a yelp and instinctively try to cover your mound with your hands before you could reach green chains appeared around your wrist pulling them over your head. You whine and try to close your legs even though it was helpless since his thigh was still pressed against you.
  “N-no one has ever seen…’’ you stop for a second so you would not sound dirty. ‘’Me before,” your face starts to burn in embarrassment. Alastor notices and trails his claws up your neck grasping your jaw to make you stare at him though half-lidded eyes.
 “Ill be gentle my sweet,’’ with that you nod allowing your legs to open wide letting Alastor have a full look at your glistening cunt. You hear his suck in a deep breath before lowly saying “You are perfect, and this is all mine to enjoy, no one else has even glimpsed at you.” He groans closing his eyes at the thought, using his spare hand and slides a finger though your slick folds, you hike your hips against his finger at the instant pleasure. “How far have gone before?” It takes you a second to respond, all you could focus was Alastor’s fingers gingerly touching your entrance. You glare at him for a second after registering what he said.
  “I’ve taken more than just my fingers Alastor,’’ you say faking anger. “Just not with anyone real.”
  In response to this Alastor’s thrusts his finger into you, curling up and presses down causing you to moan loudly at the sudden pressure on your sweet spot. His finger pumping faster as he adds another digit inflicting your walls to pulse over his fingers.
  His eyes shift to yours full of desire and command, “What have you used on yourself then?” Alastor’s eyes dart down to your cunt pressing his thumb against your clit, circling slowly.
  You jolt your waist up your whole body flares with heat. “A toy!” you practically yell in pleasure. Commanding your breath to return you say, “A six-inch p-plastic toy” tears forming in your eyes, choking more words out. “It was all I could manage.” You whisper, tears spilling over to the sides of your face, falling into your hairline.
  His grip gets tighter making his claws dig into your inner thigh, forcing small droplets of blood to rise to the surface. You wince at the pain, but surprisingly it increases your pleasure, making you rut your hips further on his fingers. Alastor moans while chuckling. “So, you do like pain too…” Gliding a third finger into your heat. “Oh, darling you are going to have to take more than six inches.”
  Your brain goes into over-drive as you start to feel pressure building in your lower stomach “Alastor please I need more” begging as more tears fall.
  ‘’Mmh, good girl. I want you to want me and me only, by the time we are done you are going to beg for me to stop.” He leans over your chest and takes a nipple in his warm mouth biting just enough to inflict pain, but he quickly runs his tongue in a circle causing you to moan his name. “Oh, you’re so reactive, every touch so far. I can’t wait to hear more of your precious sounds.”
  “T-that’s new…I’ve never felt like this before, the intense heat feels so.” You voice trailed off as Alastor leads kisses up your neck, he brings up his bloody claws up to his mouth, taking a taste. He groans loudly closing his eyes at the taste of your blood. You watch him open his eyes franticly looking at you with a need for more, your words fall out of your mouth. “Un-natural.”
  Alastor kisses your neck and nicks the soft skin, lapping up your blood feverishly. Your walls tighten around his fingers, feeling yourself close with an orgasm. Right before you get your release, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them to his mouth he licks one digit clean before bringing them to your lips forcing them open. You lap up your own juices on his fingers making Alastor moan. Shutting your eyes as he sucks harder on your neck trying to draw out more blood. You hear his buckle coming undone as Alastor takes his fingers out of your mouth, in an instant he is fully undressed.
  You open your eyes at the touch of Alastor’s cock gently tapping your clit. You look him up and down, your eyes tracing his chest. Surprised to see a puffy patch of black and red hair, thinning out as it reaches his stomach leaving a happy trial of red leading down to his cock. You are left breathless as you gawk at the sheer size of him alone. Your eyes dart up and he's looking down at you with a mischievous grin as he slides the tip of his cock down your slit getting himself lubricated with your juices, stopping just before entering your heat.
  You fiddle with the chains restricting your movement and you whine, wiggling your hands. “Please Alastor, came I have my hands back, I want to touch you.” Moaning as he presses the tip of his cock into your cunt. You squeeze your eyes shut at the intrusion that came along with a burning sensation around your tight ring.
  “Oh, darling I think not. I happen to look though your book earlier, and it included bondage little doe.” His voice dropping the way you always fantasize over. Alastor gives you a moment to acclimate to his size before pressing further into you slowly, “and domination,’’ he says as he magically pulls the chains tighter. You gasp as he fills you more, filling you to the point you thought you were going to burst, you clench down hard around Alastor shaft resulting in his cock twitching inside you. Alastor moans and presses a hand on your lower stomach right over your uterus making you gasp not knowing that pressure would give you such an intense pleasure. “Just relax, you going to take all of me.” Alastor growls saying the last part as he reaches under one of your knees lifting it over his shoulder, pressing forward when he feels you ease up around his cock.
 You bite your lip hard trying to hold in a moan, enough to break the skin making your mouth fill up with the taste of iron. Some of the blood pooling around your mouth before falling slowly down your chin dripping on to your chest.
  Alastor looks down at you with lust filled eyes widening at the sight of your blood. You could see his composer failing, so you take your tongue and wipe it across your lip sucking in the blood you had on your lips. That sets something off in Alastor as he plunges the rest of his length flush with your hips. Surprised at the feeling of being completely filled and the force of the thrust you yelp in pleasure as his cock twitch against your cervix. Your cunt spasms around his perfectly snug cock making you shudder.
   Nothing has ever been inside you this deep before causing our cunt to burn as his cock stretches you beyond the breaking point, well past the three-inch girth of your previous toy.
  Straining against the chains you whisper breathlessly,” oh Alastor please move. I need more” you beg, grinding against his cock.
  “You are taking my cock like a good girl.” Alastor coos as he pulls back his hips pulling out enough to still have his tip buried inside you and thrust softly so you can get used to the movement. Moaning, you arch your back at the sensation of his cock pushing though your gummy walls.
  “Alastor,’ you growl pulling on the chains even though they dig into your skin leaving your wrists raw and red. “You don’t need to be gentle with me” sucking in your breath as he slides slowly into your cunt again. “I can take it.’
  “Don’t worry little doe you’ll get what you’re asking for,” thrusting into you with more force before he starts to take a brutal pace bruising your cervix each time, he pounds into you. Your vison starts to blacken around the edges as you are quickly approaching your release. Alastor grabs your other knee and forcing them to your chest gaining an angle that allows him to fuck you deeper. You could not hear yourself anymore for your mind was overloading with the pleasure he was encouraging and fucking into you.
  “Al-Alastor, Alastor… oh my s-stars. Alastor please.” You moan his name like a chant over again sometimes you could not make yourself speak but continued saying Alastor’s name in your head. Alastor lowers your legs and raises your hips higher making him hit your g-spot with each thrust. “Please d-don’t stop” you beg, rolling your hips trying to match Alastor’s speed feeling the coil at your core tighten further making your walls clench down in return Alastor moans at your sudden tightness.
  “Good girl, beg for my cock to make you cum” you shudder as he rapidly increases his pounding.
  “P-please Al-Alastor I n-need t-to cum’’ you sob stumbling though your words from the roughness and speed he was fucking you at.
 “Yes, doe, cum on my cock. Show me how much you want it.” Alastor leans down and kisses your collarbone and he bites hard leaving an outline of his teeth without breaking the skin.
The chains disappearing around your wrists, he slips his hands under your each of your arms pulling you up, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, latching on to your neck sucking so hard blood rises to the surface just under the skin.
‘’Bite me’’ you whine and slamming your hips against him, grinding on his cock. Wrapping your arms around his neck running your fingers through his hair before you reach his growing antlers, you grasp the for some support forcing Alastor’s thrust to sputter when your made contact with them.
Alastor bites down on to your shoulder, pain knocking the breath out of you as he breaks the skin but not enough to tear around his teeth. He pulls back for a moment to watch the dark red blood rise and bubble over before any bit had a chance to drip, his mouth cupped around the bite mark, the sweet liquid flooding into his mouth. Alastor’s body starts to react to the blood fucking you harder he starts to feel you tremble as your body tightens.
Your orgasm rakes though your body with such power you start to go limp, your walls pulsing around Alastor’s cock. He releases your shoulder with a pop and groans as you milk his cock making him reach his climax, sputtering thick chains of warm seed into your womb. You let out a whimper as he slows his thrusts before thrusting into one more time resting his already softening cock inside your heat not wanting to leave.
  Alastor lowers your upper half back onto the bed and stares at your weak twitching body. Adoring the way you looked, shoulder oozed slowly, lip ripped and completely fuck dumb. You sigh in contentment as you raise your hands and rub your face smiling, looking up at Alastor, his face reflecting the one you had.
  With one last thrust he pulls out of taking a moment to watch his seed leak out, groaning satisfied he conjures up a warm wet rag, cleaning you up as your eyes flutter shut still trying to catch your breath.
  Chuckling, Alastor tosses the rag near the end of the bed he leans over your bloody body and press a soft kiss on your lips feeling your smile grow against his.
  ‘’I am yours; I don’t want anyone else,” you whisper softly opening your eyes to gage how he would respond.
  With Alastor’s face so close to your he leans down planting another kiss on your lips and says, “So you will be, mine for the taking.” He settles down next to you and pulls you up to his chest resting your face against his chest. You sink your hands in the puff of fur and close your eyes drifting off to sleep as you listen to Alastor hum a song from his time.
~~~
Later that evening you go back down to the kitchen to rinse out your coffee mug and see a thin piece of paper on the ground near the fridge. Reading it you immediately you text Angel.
(y/n): Angel was this on a clear jug with milk in it.
Angel: Yes, it was can you tape it back to the jug, I don’t want someone to get drugged. <3
(y/n): Drugged with what?
Angel: A drug that makes sex feel more intense, Val gave it to me to use for the next shoot, something about having bigger, better reactions.
You quickly make your way to Alastor’s room not bothering to knock you barge in and announce, “I was DRUGGED, my tea was spiked.” You proceed to show your messages to Alastor and explained you had used the drugged milk in your tea.
Alastor looks at you with a mischievous smile and says, “Well I guess we have to do it again to be sure you know exactly what I gave you tonight.”
You couldn’t help the heat that burned your cunt at the thought of fucking Alastor again.
~~~
A/N- This is my first time writing a fanfic and having the courage to post it, I hope it’s okay!! Request are open I’ll be posting the parameters later but feel free to ask! Feel free to voice your opinion <3 Thank you for reading 
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rainbowhao · 2 months
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i can't take my eyes off of you ♡ beomgyu
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genre: fluff/pining ⭒ word count: 1.4k
inspired by the song "cherry bomb" by julianna joy! please listen to it because it matches the vibe so well. and i guess this could be considered an early birthday fic :)
                           ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
you’re so patient. beomgyu’s a menace and you’re so patient that it has him falling for you even more than he thought possible—putting up with his antics every day of the week and always allowing him to voice all the dumb and borderline insane ideas he has to you.
like now. gyu’s been ranting to you for the past hour all while inside the safety of your carefully-crafted pillow fort. snacks, plushies, fairy lights, even a speaker for music—it has everything you could need on a night like this. it’s far too easy for your best friend to slip in beside you and let out everything on his mind. even what's better left unsaid.
“you go out with soobin yet?” he can’t help but frown at the name as it leaves his lips. he lies on his back, arms behind his head and decked out in his comfiest pajamas. he’d heard all about the unexpected run-in with your former high school crush and had been unable to think about anything else all week.
“mhmm,” is all you say. this has beomgyu turning toward you immediately. he can’t stand when you act vague. how are you so calm and unbothered while he's dying inside?
“you did?” he leans in a little as if you’d then be prompted to respond. “well? how did it go?” 
you want to smile at how eager he looks, waiting for you to give him any little bit of information on what went down.
“it was nice. we just met for lunch and caught up.” you shrug, gaze returning to the blanket currently acting as the ceiling to your fort. 
beomgyu huffs. “i knew it. he likes you.” he shuffles around before crossing his arms across his chest. “so what? are you going to date now or something?” he asks cooly, as if it wasn’t the worst possible thing he could imagine.
“gyu, seriously.” you chuckle. “i haven’t seen him in years. it was friendly—nothing more.” your best friend had a gift—the gift of jumping to conclusions. you know he’s silently pouting right now. he'd always been like this—grumpy whenever you mentioned hanging out with anyone other than him. 
beomgyu wasn’t a possessive guy. at least when it came to everything else in his life. but you were different. was it so bad he wanted you to himself? he knew you better than anyone, could treat you right in ways you’d never imagine. so what if soobin was taller, better looking, the textbook definition of mr. right?
he didn’t get you like beomgyu did.
“you look pretty right now,” gyu tells you quietly. he doesn’t care if you’ll scold him for it—it’s true. beneath the glowing lights, your soul exposed to him in such an intimate way that only this space could bring, you’re stunning.
“what?” you’re flushing. “you’re delirious. go to sleep.” you shove a pillow his way but he just blocks it. he’s giving you those puppy-like eyes, hair hanging in his face; it’s gotten longer than it ever has. “you planning on getting a haircut?” you can’t help but reach out and run your fingers through the strands. maybe it's you who’s delirious.
his eyes flutter closed at your gentle touches. “should i?” his lips barely even move. 
“I like it a lot,” you tell him honestly. “suits you.”
“oh?” his mouth curls into a smirk “then i’ll definitely keep it long.”
you enjoy moments like these, when beomgyu’s mellow and tender-hearted. you didn’t mind the craziness, sure, but it was rare to see him in such a raw and exposed state. no games, no antics, just gyu—the boy you had inevitably fallen for.
you find yourself getting lost in his eyes when they open once more. he’s looking at you so softly you can’t seem to turn away. the twinkling lights cast a soft glow on his face, making his lips look even more pink than usual. you can feel your heartbeat quickening with each passing moment.
“am i that beautiful?” beomgyu jokes. he dramatically blinks to show off his long eyelashes. your throat’s gone dry.
“you are beautiful, gyu,” you murmur. you don’t even realize you’ve begun stroking the side of his cheek until his hand grabs yours, forcing your fingers to come to an immediate halt.
“so you admit it.” beomgyu cups the back of your hand. “you adore me, don’t you?” he giggles to himself. “i’ll remember this moment forever now—the day you finally confessed my beauty out loud.” 
“ridiculous.” you scoff and yank back your hand. “you always know how to ruin things.” 
“what things?” beomgyu prompts. and when you try to turn onto your back, he just peers over you, arms coming on either side of your torso. beomgyu doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. he doesn’t want to; he likes being near you. “are you mad now?” he hums, face becoming increasingly closer to your own.
“no,” you say blankly.
“are you embarrassed?” he teases. “you are, aren’t you? my cute baby’s all flustered.” beomgyu finds the situation all too amusing. 
“i—i am not! and who says something like that?” you’re flaming hot beneath him, suddenly feeling very trapped.
“don’t go out with soobin,” he says suddenly. “he likes you. i know he does.” his exhale’s shaky, forearms nearly wobbling as he holds himself up. “how could he not?” he whispers the last part. 
“why are you so obsessed with this?” you study him. even though he hadn’t said anything in the previous days, you knew he’d been stressing about it. beomgyu was like an open book to you. but sometimes there were things about him you didn’t understand. why was he so upset over the idea of you dating someone?
“i don’t want you to be anyone else’s but mine.” beomgyu confesses. his nose finds its way to the crook of your neck, nudging at the warm skin before he dares let his lips press against you. he kisses you so briefly, so lightly that you almost think you’d imagined it. but then he’s leaving more in a trail down your neck, whispering tiny little pleas in between. “please…let me show you.”
“show me what?” the tiny space is so incredibly warm now. “gyu, w—what are you doing?” you’d never known him to be so forward. his sudden confidence had your head spinning.
he pulls back a little to look at you. “i want you to know how much you mean to me.” beomgyu couldn’t help himself; the hazy lighting and late-night fatigue had him thinking unspeakable things about his best friend and truthfully, he’d never wanted something so badly as he wanted you in this very moment. “can i baby?”
there he goes with that name again. 
“okay,” you whisper. “how?”
“first,” he says lowly, “i’m going to kiss you.” with enough of his weight on you, he’s able to bring one hand up to your face. “right here.” the tip of his finger traces your bottom lip. “and then i’m going to tell you just how crazy you make me. or maybe you already know that.” he smiles. “as for soobin...tell him to get in line."
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iliektehhaxs · 1 month
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Toxic ex-boyfriend Simon 🫠🫠
It’s the same routine ever since you broke up with Simon. Call after call, decline after decline, you’ve changed your number twice now and he’s still managed to find you.
He doesn’t take no for an answer, though I suppose you knew this already—The break-up was a pretty big indicator of that, or in his words, your “break.”
“You’re just a bit overwhelmed,” he said to you, not budging a little even with your full weight on him, trying and failing to push him out of your apartment. It’s as if you weren’t even there. “Never had a man treat you like you need to be treated, scared of new sensations?”
That certainly wasn’t the problem, but it was in one ear and out the other with Simon. Honestly, you’re not even sure if it even managed to go in one ear.
“Please, don’t make this difficult,” you begged, giving up on your attempt to push him out. “Just…leave. I don’t want to call the cops.”
At the mention of police he laughs, almost mockingly. It almost scares you.
“Alright then, I’ll entertain your little tantrum for now,” he says, stepping out into the hallway. “But when you’ve finally come to your senses, know that I’ll be waiting for you.”
A pause, and then: “Of course I’ll have to teach you a lesson about being a brat when you do, but you always love my lessons don’t you pet?”
Weeks later his words still ring in your ears.
Weeks later your phone still rings in your hands.
You don’t need to check the caller ID—it’s always an unknown number, but you always know who it is. You let it go to voicemail like usual, but today is a first—a small notification being visible from the corner of your eye.
One voicemail left by: Unknown Caller
Your curiosity peaks, with stubbornness quelling it soon after. It’s a voicemail from your ex, what could he possibly say to you that you haven’t heard a million times before.
Still, it eats away at you. It wasn’t like him to leave a message when he could just call. Hell, knowing him he’s more likely to show up at your door.
It lingers in your mind. You think about it for the rest of the day and it’s now you truly understand the plight of the cat when curiosity seems so enticing.
You relent when you lie awake restless, a losing battle as you find your inbox and hit play.
Your ears are greeted with ambient silence, unsure if maybe Simon left his voicemail open on accident. The moment the thought crosses your mind you hear it, the distinct rumble you know as wholly and purely Simon. There’s a shuffle, then his voice cuts through the empty air.
“Hey there pet. Missed ya.”
You find your eyes rolling as he continues.
“I know, I know, you want to keep me away,” he says breathlessly. “But I’m not sure how long I can keep playing this game.”
There’s a rustling, a deep inhale followed by the sound of something squirting.
“Had to take a minute, forgot I had these,” he says, then takes a moment to laugh. “I’m talking like you can see me, so lemme paint you a nice, clear picture.”
A rather familiar sound of skin against skin has your face growing hotter. You’re in disbelief, willing to deny what you think you’re hearing until Simon confirms it for you.
“Hear that, pet?” He growls. “That’s all me. Could be yours too, if you’d stop being such a fuckin’ brat.”
The sound of his hand is slow, methodical in his purpose. “Nice and wrapped up in those panties I love so much. Pink and satin, the ones you got for valentines—you know the ones.”
A sigh, as if he’s reminiscing. “God, you were a real animal that day. Purred so nicely when I stuffed that cunt of yours.”
Whatever anger you have towards him for stealing your underwear is soon replaced with lust, the sound of the fabric in sync with his hand enough to have you squirming in your bed. His voice like gravel echoes through the speaker, even worse is the slick sounds of what you’re certain is your panties stroking his cock, stained with pre-cum.
More noises, his breathing getting faster and faster. “So fuckin’ soft. Feels good wrapped around me, reminds me of when you’d get so needy you’d need to grind yourself on my thigh.”
Long stretches of time where all you can hear are his breathless moans and his hand moving faster. On instinct your thighs close around nothing as you listen to your ex-boyfriend jerk off in your ears.
“Should see me right now, nice and hard just for you,” he gasps.
Your pussy throbs as if on instinct.
One of your favorite traits about Simon was his undeniably large cock, how it would blush the prettiest shade of rouge at the sight of you, how you struggled to take it every time and how you could feel it in your chest when he fucked you. It’s all you can think about now, any reason you had for breaking up seemingly lost to you.
Another laugh drags you from your thoughts. “You were thinking about me just then, weren’t you?”
Embarrassment burns through your body. You have half a mind to turn off your phone, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You can practically hear the smugness in his tone.
“Don’t worry, I’m thinking of you too.”
You hate the fact that he’s right. You hate the fact that he knows you so well. You hate the fact that you’re still listening.
You especially hate the fact you want him to do something about the increasing wetness in your panties.
“Just the thought of you, your body—that tight cunt of yours…” He cuts himself off with a moan, the distinct sound of slickness echoing in the speakers.
“God, just thinking about how hungry you must be for my cock…the things I’ll do when I get my hands on you.”
The laugh that emits from him is unhinged, animalistic. It excites you, as guilty as you feel for admitting it.
The sound of his hand speeds up as he talks. “You been taking good care of her in my stead? Touching yourself, getting her nice and prepared for when I come back? I’d hate to re-train her back into my shape.”
He’s so damn vulgar and you love it.
“Just remember, when you’re awake at night, and your thighs are pressing together so pretty, begging for something between them..”
His voice is clear as day, dark and unchained. It sends a full-bodied jolt through your own body, just barely resisting the urge to call.
“…That my cock will always be better than your hand.”
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scuderiahoney · 3 months
Text
Love Of My Life
Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Part 5
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Masterlist // Series Masterlist
Summary: Four moments leading up to the big day, and the moment you and Max have been dreaming of.
a/n: I actually have SO much to say but I will save it for the end or maybe a separate post. title thanks to Mr. Harry Styles. Hope you all enjoy this one!
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content
1. something old
“You should come over Friday,” Louise tells you over the phone. “I’m having some friends over, you’ll love them. It’ll be fun.”
You don’t have anything better to do, really. You’ve had a hard time making friends since you moved here- people were still hesitant to socialize due to Covid. But things are opening back up now, and the one friend you have made wants to introduce you to more people. You should take the chance. You’d be silly not to.
So you head over with a bottle of white wine. You slip your coat off at the door, finding the apartment full of people. You’re suddenly anxious. You don’t know anyone here besides Louise, and you feel like such an outsider already. These people are all already friends, why would you think you could just insert yourself?
Just as you’re thinking about putting your coat back on and pretending you were never there, Louise spots you in the hallway. She calls out your name and beckons you over. Now you’re stuck. There’s no escaping anymore.
She greets you with a hug, squealing in your ear- you can tell she’s already tipsy. You hug her back and smile at her when she pulls away.
“I’m so glad you made it,” she says, loud enough to be heard over the music playing in her apartment. “I’ve got so many people I want you to meet.”
She takes you to the kitchen first, where there’s a wide array of alcohol and mixers. You help yourself to a tequila & soda. Then she holds your hand and pulls you through the crowd, making stops along the way. She introduces you to all her friends one by one, and you start to put faces to the names in the stories she’s told you. Everyone is kind and excited to meet you- apparently, they’ve heard a lot about you, too.
By the time you meet Max, you’re three drinks in. Louise doesn’t give you any sort of heads up. You suppose it shouldn’t really matter- to her, he’s just her friend Max. You’re not a big F1 fan, but you know enough to know who Max is. So when you’re suddenly face to face with him in a crowded apartment?
You handle it well, all things considered. The alcohol helps, keeps your hand from shaking when you give him a little wave as Louise gushes about you. Max helps, too- for someone who should be intimidating, he’s incredibly kind. It’s not long before Louise is dragging you off again, someone else she needs you to meet.
Max yells after the two of you, his hand cupped around his mouth. “Nice to meet you!”
You echo it back and laugh as she drags you away. You don’t see him again that night, but Max’s soft smile stays imprinted in the back of your brain for days.
2. something new
Just before Christmas, you and Max host a party. Half your friends are out of town visiting family, but you invite the people who are there to come over for dinner and drinks and games. Daniel, who is usually first to arrive and last to leave, gets there far too early. He rings the doorbell and Max looks at you with a wide grin. He has oven mitts on his hands, and he’s wearing an apron. It’s all very domestic, and it makes your heart sing.
“I’ll get it,” you say, sliding off the kitchen stool and heading for the door.
You take a deep breath before you open it. Daniel comes tumbling in, arms full of food and drinks, kicking off his shoes in the doorway. He’s grinning so wide at you that for a moment you think he already knows, but Max had sworn he hadn’t told him yet. He heads towards the kitchen, already talking a mile a minute, but when he turns over his shoulder to look at you he stops in his tracks. He cocks his head at you.
“Something’s different,” he says, one brow quirked. “Did you cut your hair? Something’s… new.”
You shake your head and frown at him. He frowns right back. Then he drops the bottles and bags of food on the couch. He casts a glance towards the kitchen, where Max has his head in the fridge. For a second, you’re worried about what he’s going to ask you.
Then he reaches for your left hand, and you start to laugh.
His grin grows impossibly wider when he spots the ring on your finger. He pulls you into a tight hug before he says anything. You hear Max let out a noise of confusion in the kitchen, but you’re busy hugging Daniel back.
“Congrats,” he says, voice low. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
You laugh, tears suddenly threatening to build up in your eyes. “Thank you. And. Thank you,” you say. “For picking me up and bringing me here that night.”
He nods, squeezes his arms around you once more before he pulls away. Max is standing at the kitchen island, watching the two of you with a soft smile.
“Told you he’d notice immediately,” he says. “Lando’s the one who’ll be oblivious.”
Daniel charges across the room to get to Max and wraps him up in a bear hug. Max reciprocates happily, smiling at you over his friend’s shoulder. They hold onto each other for a long time.
“Wait, so is this an engagement party?” He asks, and Max laughs. “Wait, when did you ask her?”
“Just after we got back from Japan,” you answer.
Daniel turns to you, eyes wide. “You little assholes! You’ve been keeping it a secret for weeks?”
He shoves Max’s shoulder lightly. Max shoves him back. Before long, the two of them are playfully wrestling in the kitchen. The timer on the oven goes off, but it doesn’t seem to stop either of them. You sigh, walk over, take the oven mits from the counter, and sidestep the scramble to get to the oven and pull the tray of cookies out.
Louise walks in without knocking and takes in the entire situation- you, a tray of cookies in your hands, Daniel, his arms around Max, Max, with Daniel in a headlock, and she starts to laugh.
“Oh my god, did you guys get engaged?” She asks.
“How did you know?” Max squeaks- Daniel’s pinched his side mid sentence.
“You’re wearing an apron that says fiancé,” Louise laughs.
You collapse into laughter, barely making sure to set the cookies down on the counter. You’d forgotten about the apron, a gag gift from you to him that he’d insisted on actually wearing. Max looks down at his own chest, tucking his chin comically to do so. He still has Daniel in a headlock. The other man is jabbing at Max’s stomach now.
“Huh. Forgot about that,” he says with a shrug.
“Let me see the ring!” Louise says, making her way towards you.
“Shoes off!” Both you and Max call out, pointing at her feet.
She sighs and shares a look of exasperation with Daniel. He rolls his eyes in agreement. Max sees and remembers his previous fight with Daniel, and seems to decide to return to that, shoving his elbow into his friend’s side.
You ignore them and head for Louise, holding your hand out to her. She squeals over the ring, holding onto your hand tightly, eyes lit up.
“Wouldn’t be here without you,” you tell her.
“And that awful strawberry wine,” she says knowingly.
She’s not exactly wrong. Without that night, the strawberry wine that everyone else hated but you and Max liked, you’re not sure what would’ve happened. You like to believe you would’ve found your way to each other- something else to have in common, something else to share. But you wouldn’t trade any of those shared bottles of wine for the entire world. You treasure each moment.
“They got engaged like three weeks ago!” Daniel calls out. “They’re assholes!”
You slip the ring off your finger and turn it around so Louise can see the strawberry, and you watch her face crumple into a sob. You laugh and feel yours do the same.
“Shit,” Daniel says. “I didn’t mean it.”
Max gives up on wrestling Daniel. “Baby?”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, as you pull Louise into a hug. “Happy tears.”
3. something borrowed
You follow Max to Bahrain for the beginning of the F1 season. He’s often busy before he gets in the car, and you usually spend the time hanging out in hospitality or in the garage. But before the first practice of the season, he finds you and pulls you to the side.
He slips the bracelet you gave him from his wrist and hands it to you. “Keep this safe for me?”
You know the rest of his jewelry- his other bracelets, his watch, and any rings he’d worn- are sitting in his driver room. Your chest warms at the thought that he’s worn this one as long as possible, and that he wants you to hold onto it. You smile up at him and slide the bracelet into your own wrist. It’s a bit too big, but it’ll work.
“Sure, I’ll just borrow it for now,” you tell him.
A wide, soft smile spreads across Max’s lips. “Oh. That’s. That’s nice.”
His face has morphed into something warm and full of affection. His eyes are trained on the bracelet, sitting on your wrist, the way it hangs loosely against the base of your hand. It’s comforting to you, too.
You laugh, noticing the tears in his eyes. “You big sap.”
He brushes his thumb against your wrist and kisses your forehead. “But I’m yours.”
“Yeah, you are,” you say, and you kiss his cheek. “Forever. I’ll see you soon, love.”
After the practice, he finds you, his race suit tied around his waist. He pulls you into a hug, and you slip the bracelet off your wrist and onto his. And so, the tradition begins.
By the end of the race the next weekend, the two of you have it down to a science. He takes it off just before he heads to the grid, leaves it with you. You rub your thumb against the metal during the race, wrap your whole hand around it during the more stressful moments. The cold metal against the palm of your other hand is grounding, somehow. When he crosses the finish line in first, you run to greet him with the crew. He pulls you halfway over the barricade when he finds you, helmet still on, and you press your lips to the top of it as he holds you, strong arms right around your middle. He smells like sweat and shakes with the adrenaline of it all. There are people slapping his shoulders eagerly, people reaching to tap his helmet, but for just a moment, all he’s focused on is you. He reaches for your wrist.
You slip the bracelet off and put it back on his wrist for him. You watch his shoulders relax, like the last bit of tension is draining away. You hold onto the sides of his helmet, staring into his eyes, which are nearly squeezed shut. He holds your face in his hands for just a moment, fingers pressed to your skin.
He’s going to be your husband. In all of this chaos, you’re the person he wants by his side, the first one he runs to. It hits you like a freight train, and you swallow down the tears.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promises, smiling through all of it. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you tell him, as you let go of him.
Someone pulls him away- he has other things he has to do now. But he’ll come back to you. He always does.
4. something blue
Soon, it’s late summer in Monaco. The hazy afternoon sun is about to slip below the horizon. You’ve just climbed out of bed after a long nap with Max, both of you having been exhausted from the race weekend and the journey back home. For once, you’d been the one trying to coax him to stay in bed. He’d insisted on getting up, on trying to scrape together dinner from what’s left of the groceries in your apartment. So far, you haven’t made much progress beyond opening a bottle of wine and starting a playlist playing.
“Maybe this could be a first dance song,” you suggest, some sappy love song playing over the speakers in the kitchen.
Max shakes his head, wrinkles his nose. “You don’t even know this song.”
“Sounds pretty.”
“It has to mean something, no?” He says, reaching out and pulling you close. “Not just… sounds pretty.”
“Yeah, but… how do we pick a song that sums it all up?” You ask, and his shoulders drop. “I mean. Have you found the song yet?”
“I have ideas,” he says.
“So do I,” you answer, and then you sigh. “But I don’t think any of them are the one.”
Max stands there, hands on your hips. “Let’s test them out,” he says.
You blink up at him, sliding your hands up his abdomen. “Now?”
You look down at yourself, and at him. He’s shirtless, in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants and socks. You’re not much more dressed- one of his navy Red Bull tshirts, big enough that it falls down to mid thigh, nothing but your underwear underneath, a pair of light blue cable knit socks on your feet. Your hair is a mess. There are definitely dark circles under your eyes, courtesy of your near-permanent jet lag.
“Yeah, now,” he says, brushing his thumbs against your hips. “You’ve got a list, so do I. How are we going to know which one’s right till we try them out?”
You shrug, then nod, reaching for your phone. You open your music, scrolling to the playlist you’ve already made. Max looks at the screen upside down, trying to read the names of the songs. When the first one begins to play, he takes you into his arms and starts to dance.
The kitchen is big, but it’s no dance floor. The living room might be better, but he seems insistent on staying put. The two of you sway on the tile floors, careful not to bump your hips on the countertops. He spins you in dizzying circles, ones that make you laugh and smile and send you crashing back into his chest. And when you’ve heard enough of each song to know it’s not the song, you skip it.
“Too boring,” he says about one.
“Too cheesy,” you respond to another.
He wrinkles his nose at the next one. “This is even cheesier.”
It’s not long until you’ve exhausted both of your lists. You sigh in defeat, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand sweeps up your back.
“We’ll find it,” you tell him. “Or we’ll get Charles to write us a song.”
Max snorts out a laugh. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“He was the first of your friends that I met, you know,” you remind him with a teasing lilt.
He bends his head to kiss your forehead, but he stops halfway. His brows furrow. Then he reaches for your phone off the counter, swiping to open it.
“What?” You ask, softly.
“Danny- he suggested a song, a while ago. A long time ago, actually-“ he says. “I had forgotten about it. But. We should try, no?”
You nod. He pressed play. You don’t recognize the song as the first chords play out, but you’ll give it a shot. You rest your head against Max’s chest, let him hold you and sway back and forth. For a moment, you think you’re starting to feel it. That this might be the song. There’s a flutter in your chest.
And then the chorus hits, and you hear the lyrics, and you just know. You look up at Max with tears in your eyes and you know he feels it too. The sun is long gone, now, and the kitchen is filled with that blue, post sunset light. It matches Max’s eyes, brings out the color in them. He leans you back in the kitchen of your apartment and kisses you like you’re his wife- like this could be your first dance at your wedding. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him right back.
You’re not sure how many times you listen to that song that night. Enough to learn all the lyrics, enough to commit the feeling of it to memory. By the end of the night, Max is singing it to you while you wash your face and laugh, and you’re humming it while you climb into bed. You lay there, your head on the pillow, looking over at him. Neither of you can wipe the giant smiles off your lips.
5. and a sixpence in your shoe
You wake up just after the sun on a Saturday morning in early January. The year is still fresh, and Max is in bed next to you. He’s got his arm around your waist, face pressed into the pillow. The sight makes you smile.
Today, you get to marry him. You can’t wipe the stupid grin off your face. As Max starts to wake up, you see the smile slip across his face, too. He opens his eyes and meets yours, and the smile only grows. He reaches out, runs the back of his finger over your cheek.
“My beautiful girlfriend,” he says, softly.
You laugh. “My handsome boyfriend.”
“We have to use that up, you know. Say it while we still can,” he says.
He tugs at your side to pull you closer. You go easily.
“We’re getting married today,” you say to him.
He nods, eyes tracing your face. “Any second thoughts? Cold feet?”
You laugh and bury your face in his chest. You press your feet to his calves and he hisses, rolling over on top of you in retaliation. He presses quick, ticklish kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, and you squeal and try to push him away. He’s much stronger, though, and he keeps you pinned under him.
“My feet are always cold,” you tell him. “But no second thoughts. I’m all in.”
“Are we getting married or playing poker?” He teases. When you groan and shove at his shoulder lightly, he laughs into your neck.
“What about you? Second thoughts?” You ask.
Max laughs again, louder this time. He presses himself closer, if that’s even possible, and kisses the hinge of your jaw gently. His nose brushes against your temple, then, as he presses his lips to your ear.
“Never,” he whispers, making you shiver. “I’m all in, too.”
He pulls away to look at your face, and you’re met with a soft gaze that sends your heart into overdrive. He leans close, lips aiming for yours, his nose bumping against your nose. You let your eyes fall shut, and then there’s someone knocking on your front door, loudly.
“You two better be decent!” Daniel calls out. “We’re here, time to get up!”
You sigh, throwing your head back on the pillow. Max lets out a long, loud groan, hands suddenly everywhere on your body, like he’s trying to get as much touching in as he can before it’s too late. You laugh and try to push him away again, but it’s no use.
“Why’d we tell him to come get us so early?” Max says, bordering on a whine. “And why did he listen to us?”
“He’s your best man,” you remind him. “You chose him.”
There’s a knock on the bedroom door. “Come on, lovebirds. We’ve got a schedule to keep. It’s your wedding day!” This time it’s Louise, who’s your maid of honor.
You sigh and try to sit up, bringing Max with you. He doesn’t go easily, or willingly. He seems perfectly content to stay tucked in bed, despite the threats from your friends. In fact, the second you’re halfway sitting up, he’s trying to push you back down onto the pillows.
“Max. I’m not wearing a shirt,” you hiss, gesturing down at yourself. “And Danny is threatening to come in here-“
Max sits up suddenly, eyes wide. “Okay, okay, we’re getting up,” he calls out. “Give us a minute to get dressed, yeah?”
You meet the two of them in the kitchen ten minutes later. Max is in a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, while you’re in a cream lounge set your friend Audrey bought you as a wedding shower gift. You have one of Max’s shirts overtop of it, unbuttoned and hanging like a jacket. Daniel and Louise are sitting at the kitchen counter, coffee and breakfast waiting for both you and Max. Your friends greet each of you with hugs and then rush you both out the door.
You ride to the wedding venue together, and even as you head to get ready, you don’t separate. This is what you both decided- you get ready for every other big event in your lives together, side by side, so why would this one be any different? Your friends all join you, your family members too, trickling in and out of the space. The morning is full of love and light. Max sits next to you and watches you get your hair and makeup done. Your makeup artist has to tell him to stop making you laugh- she’s worried she’s going to mess up your lipstick.
Max just grins and shakes his head. “We can’t have that,” he teases. “That’s my job.”
You wait until the last possible second to put on your dress. That’s when you leave Max’s side, letting go of him until you meet him at the end of the aisle. He's in his tux, a blue bow tie around his neck. There’s this peaceful smile on his face, one that grounds you and comforts you every time you see it. He kisses your temple to avoid messing up your makeup, and you smile up at him softly.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promises eyes sparkling.
“Yeah, see you soon,” you answer, feeling giddy.
The wedding itself is a tiny, intimate affair. Just your closest friends and family and someone to officiate. You can see the garden where you’re going to get married from the room you’ve been getting ready in. The guests are all in the seats- your family and Max’s in the front row. Christian, Geri, and GP are there, craning their necks when they spot Max. Lando is there, sitting next to Martin. Your mutual friends take up a whole row, the ones you met the same night you met Max, the ones who welcomed you with open arms. A whole lot of love in such a little space.
You take a deep breath and head downstairs with Louise, who helps make sure your dress is perfect before you head down the aisle. You stay hidden, watching through a window as Max walks down to the front. Daniel gives you a gentle hug, tears already forming in his eyes. Then the music begins, and Louise grabs you by the shoulders.
“This is your last chance,” she says. “I can be your getaway car.”
You laugh, tears already forming in your eyes, and you shake your head. “No. No second thoughts, no cold feet. I’ve never been more sure.”
She grins at you and squeezes your shoulders. “Cool, because we would’ve had to steal Danny’s car. Oh, I have something for you.”
She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a coin- a sixpence. Suddenly, you remember the old rhyme, and panic rushes through your body. She’s smiling, though, and shaking her head.
“Something old,” she says, pointing at the vintage bracelet you’d been gifted by Max’s mother for the day. “The something new is the perfume you bought special for today.”
“Something borrowed,” Daniel chimes in, a wide grin on his face, “is the pair of cufflinks I lent Max. And something blue-“
“His bow tie,” you say, softly. “I picked it because it brings out his eyes, but… it works, right?”
Daniel and Louise both nod, grinning brightly. Tears are already forming in your eyes. Louise swipes them away quickly with a tissue as you slip one of your heels off and place the coin there. You take a deep breath.
“Now I’m ready,” you say with a firm nod.
But really, you’ve been ready since the day you met him.
The rest of it is a bit of a blur. It’s like one moment, you’re standing there, watching it all from the outside. Then the next, you’re at the front with Max, his hands in yours, tears in both of your eyes. You hate crowds, hate public speaking, but for him you’d do anything. For him, you’d shout it all from the rooftops.
He has that soft look on his face, the one that makes you melt every time. His cheeks are rosy red, and you have to fight the urge to sweep your thumb against his face, to lean in and kiss him right there. You barely hear what the officiant is saying, but that’s okay because you already know it by heart.
“Now, I believe the two of you have prepared vows?” The officiant says. “Max, would you like to start us off?”
Max nods, squeezes your hands, smiles at you. You smile right back and hold onto him tightly.
“My wonderful love,” he says, voice so soft and tender it makes your chest hurt. “I spent a lot of my life before I met you wondering how you know when it’s love. But you’ve taught me that it’s not just a feeling, it’s a choice. At every turn, I choose you, and you have done the same. You’re my sunshine, my quiet in the noise. So in all the messes, in the stressful days, I love you. Not in spite of, or anyways. I love you in all of it, the good and the tough parts. I’d choose you over and over again.” He squeezes your hands softly. “I promise to save you the best strawberries, to listen when you need to talk, to talk when you need to listen. Most of all, I promise to always walk you home.”
God, you love him. You love him so much it’ll burn you up, so much it aches deep in your chest. You can’t quite believe that you get to spend your whole life with him. You hold onto his hands and blink away tears. His blue eyes stare straight into yours, calm and kind as always. If you could, you’d kiss him right then and there. You take a deep breath instead and begin to speak.
“I heard a quote once, that said there are years that ask questions and years that answer. I think that since I’ve met you, it’s all felt like an answer to a question I didn’t even know I had. You pick me up when I fall, you cheer me on when I succeed, and I love being able to do the same for you,” you say, softly. “I am so thankful for every moment I get to spend with you, from the dances in our kitchen to watching you win on the racetrack. You’re the best part of my life, my steady rock, my anchor in a storm. I can’t wait to be by your side for the rest of our lives. I promise to always share the wine, to cheer you on, to be the sane person in a room full of chaos.” He grins widely at that, eyes glittering with tears. “Above all else, I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”
Then it’s the I dos and the rings, handed to you by Daniel, who’s got tears in his eyes. Your hands shake as you slip the ring onto his finger. Max’s do too. The bands sit perfectly on your fingers, and you can’t take your eyes off Max’s hand- the ring, the bracelet, too. When you finally drag your gaze away, you look up at him again, tears slipping down your cheeks. His face mirrors yours, teary eyed but oh-so-happy.
When the officiant tells him to kiss the bride, he sweeps you up in his arms, the same way he did in the hallway of the club all that time ago, when you were still unsure, when you didn’t realize he wanted this, too. He kisses you sweetly, holds you close, and you feel it in every bone in your body, every muscle, every nerve. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. You could do this forever. Forever and ever.
…..
While the wedding was small, the reception is huge, and it’s packed with people. Everyone you or Max have ever spoken to seems to be there. There’s good food, better drinks, and enough strawberry wine to supply the entire city for a month, you’re sure. Someone forces you and Max to sit and eat dinner- you do your best. Then you wander the reception, hand in hand with him, greeting all of your guests.
You’ve changed dresses since the ceremony- out of your more simple white dress and into a bit more of an elegant one. You give so many hugs you think your arms will fall off, and accept countless compliments on the dress and the decor and the food. People tell you how proud they are of the two of you, how happy they are for you, how in love the two of you look.
You’ve just barely collapsed into your chair again, wincing at the ache already present in your feet, when they announce the first dance. Suddenly, you’re rejuvenated. Max grabs your hand and helps you up, a wide smile on his face.
“My wife,” he says, seemingly never tiring of using your new title. “May I have this dance?”
“My husband,” you respond, smiling. “This dance and every single other one.”
He laughs. It’s incredibly cheesy, overly sappy. But someday, a long time ago, you pulled your heart out of your chest and handed it over to him. And he took it, wrapped it up and held it safely, promised to protect it with his life, and then gave you his in exhchange. You have the right to be sappy and cheesy and emotional. He leads you to the dance floor, a million eyes on you. You just stare into his, and the rest of the world disappears as the song begins to play. It’s not the typical kind of music you two listen to, and it’s probably not what your friends were expecting. But when the chorus plays…
You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey
You're as sweet as strawberry wine
You're as warm as a glass of brandy
And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time
You rest your head on his shoulder as he holds you close, one hand linked with yours.
“I love you,” you whisper, fingers dancing in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I love you, liefje,” he says, brushing a kiss against your forehead.
He kisses you on the lips at the end of the song. Everyone cheers, and you smile into it, unable to help yourself. Max raises one fist above your heads, like he’s just won a race, and you start to laugh. It’s one of the happiest moments of your life.
…..
When the reception ends, the afterparty begins. Most of the older or calmer guests head out. Louise helps you change your dress one more time- from the ballgown to a short party dress. You ditch your heels for a pair of white sneakers and sigh in relief at the feeling. By the time you make an appearance, the party is truly in full swing, and you spot Max up on the DJ stand with Lando and Martin. Years ago, if you’d have guessed who’d DJ your wedding afterparty, you’d have never suggested Martin Garrix and Lando Norris, and yet, here you are.
You climb up there with them, greeting your two friends with hugs before sliding up to Max’s side. He’s lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way, and his neatly tied bow tie hangs loose and crooked from his neck. You reach to try and fix it for him. He looks you up and down, a sly smile on his lips.
He wraps his arms around you, letting his hands fall low on your back. “This might be my favorite dress of the day,” he says into your ear.
You shove at his shoulder lightly. “You’re just drunk and horny.”
He shakes his head and kisses your cheek. “No, it’s just… you look the most like you in this one. Like the you I fell in love with.” He nudges his foot against your sneakers. “More comfortable, too.”
You feel warm and soft over that, over the way he’s looking at you right now. “Aw, Maxie,” you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
“I mean, you also look hot,” he says, hands slipping down to squeeze your ass. “But that is just an added bonus.”
You laugh, your forehead pressed to his chest. There are people all around you, music pounding in your chest, but you’ve got Max, and that’s all you need.
“Should we go dance?” He asks.
You press your lips to his jaw, then his ear. “Yeah, we should.”
The two of you climb down from the platform. Soon enough, you disappear into the crowd of people, his hand linked with yours the whole time.
You stumble out of the club at 3am, Max’s arm wrapped around your waist. Daniel, ever the dutiful best man, is the one to get the two of you into the car, despite Max’s protests that he can walk you home. You wave goodbye to all your friends, who cheer and wave from the sidewalk. Max has his arm around your waist as you lean out the window to hug Louise, and he yelps and pulls you back in when you start to lean too far.
By the time you’re halfway through the elevator ride up to your apartment, you’re pinned between him and the mirrored wall, his lips on yours. It’s messy and hot and you drag your hands down his torso as his hands slide down your back. When the elevator doors slide open on your floor, he picks you up easily, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to the front door, pins you against it so he can unlock it, and then stumbles inside, your legs wrapped around his waist. You press your lips to his neck and laugh.
“My wife,” he says, kicking his shoes off and shoving them aside.
You nip at his jaw. “My husband.”
He carries you all the way into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. You’re a giggly mess, covering your face with your hands as he tugs your shoes off your feet for you. When his hands are free, you reach for him, pulling on his dress shirt until it comes untucked from his pants. The motion knocks him off balance, and he catches himself with both hands on either side of your head, face to face with you.
You always love him, really, but he’s your husband now. It makes butterflies swirl in your stomach, makes you giddy and warm inside. You reach for the collar of his shirt and start working on his buttons.
He starts pressing kisses all over your face- your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. Each time you try to chase his lips with your own, he pulls away, kissing some other part of your face. You’re three buttons in on his shirt when you give up, grab for his jaw, and start doing the same to him.
When you pull away, he smiles down at you, and you admire your handiwork. There’s lipstick on his cheeks, now, smudged and messy. There’s a line of it down his jaw, leading to a spot that looks so inviting you have to leave a mark there. You dive in and seal your lips there, pulling a groan from his.
You’ll admit it- you’re the first one to yawn. You have your hands under his shirt, pressed against his warm skin, and his lips are dragging against your neck, and the exhaustion hits you all at once. You cover the yawn with your hand, blinking frantically to try and wake yourself up. You can’t fall asleep during this part of your wedding night.
But. Max’s lips are slow against your neck, and his kisses are messier and messier. You run your fingers along his side and he sighs softly. When you feel him yawn, you nudge his shoulder until he looks up at you. His eyes are half lidded, lips red and puffy, and he looks exhausted.
“Do you really want to have sex right now?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.
“With you? Always,” he mumbles into the bare skin of your collarbone. Then he lets his head drop back against your chest.
“You’re literally falling asleep,” you say, tugging lightly on his hair. You get no reaction. “See? I just pulled your hair, and nothing. That always makes you-“
“Mm. Yeah. Morning sex it is,” he says, nodding against you. “Probably for the best. We have a flight in…” he looks at the clock on the bedside table. “Six hours.”
You groan and cover your face with your hands again. “Why did we do that? It’s your plane, we could’ve picked any time.”
“Your plane, too,” he says against your skin. “Our plane.”
You stare at the ceiling with wide eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have sex? That sentence was hotter than it should’ve been. Ours.”
Max laughs against you and squeezes your hips. “How about this. We sleep. Wake up at the last possible second. Get in the car, go to the plane. Maybe more sleep. Then, we have-“
“Sex on the plane,” you say with him, nodding. “Fuck, we really are married, huh? We’re scheduling sex.”
“Yes. But it’s okay, because it’s mile high club scheduled sex, so it’s cooler.” Max says, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
Then he shoves at your hips, trying to push you further onto the bed. You go willingly and he follows. The two of you fall asleep still half dressed in your wedding clothes, with his head on your chest and your lipstick all over his face.
…..
You’d had a thought, a long time ago, about a honeymoon phase with Max. It’s what those first weeks had felt like, before anything was official, when you thought nobody knew. Now, you lay between his legs on a beach chair on your actual honeymoon, running your hands through his hair, your chest against his. The morning sun beats down on your skin, warming you up the same way he warms your heart. You look at him, at the smile on his face that matches the one on yours, and you think that maybe this is what relationships are all about. Finding the next honeymoon, the next thing to jump into headfirst, together, hand in hand.
“You’ll walk me home, right?” You’d asked him, so many nights ago in the restaurant lobby.
“Always,” he’d answered.
You look at your rings on your finger, laying against his chest. You feel his ring against your cheek when he cups your face, cold in stark contrast to the warmth of his hand, the warmth of him. Always.
That sounds pretty perfect.
a/n: I actually didn’t know about the sixpence in your shoe part of the wedding rhyme until I wrote this. learn something new every day! anyways. this all started with a oneshot and somehow transformed into this. i have a deeper love for max and a deeper hatred for his affinity for wearing Red Bull merch- it makes it very difficult to make fic headers. thank you to everyone who has helped encourage me while writing this fic, and to everyone who has read any of it i love you all! And now, we say goodbye to the strawberry wine universe, thanks for reading! 🍓🍷
ps. this is the last full part but i might have some blurbs if anyone is interested
taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1
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matchavellichor · 9 months
Note
If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊
Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️
A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶
You Drew Stars
f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words
Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...
Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow
The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew. 
He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.
“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?” 
“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”
“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”
“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”
She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”
He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page. 
She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.
After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.
“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”
“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”
“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”
He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”
“What can I say, I’m enticing.”
Overwhelmingly, he thought.
He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.
They fell into a simple sort of routine. 
Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.
He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.
She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.
He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea. 
She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.
It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.
Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room. 
Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries? 
They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.
He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together. 
//
Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.
“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”
“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”
“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”
“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”
He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?” 
Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”
He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”
//
“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”
“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”
“Both?”
She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”
“We’re friends? This is news to me.” 
She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”
“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”
He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens. 
“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.” 
You’re good for me, he thought.
“Call it self-preservation.”
//
“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”
“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.
He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”
She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.
Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.
They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.
They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.
“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?” 
He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting. 
She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue. 
His mouth felt terribly dry.
He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.
Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax. 
He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with. 
He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his. 
“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.
“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.
She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?” 
He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”
She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.” 
He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.” 
She grinned. “Shut up and do it.” 
He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery. 
“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began. 
He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.
“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”
She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips. 
She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 
“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”
He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.
“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.” 
He swallowed hard. “Do I?”
“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”
She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.
Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.
He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.
He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.
Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.
Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.
She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it. 
She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.
When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough. 
He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.
//
After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.
Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.
Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.
There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.
He adored kissing her.  Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.
He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel. 
She was bliss personified. 
Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease. 
His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.
After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction. 
He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either. 
“Tired?” 
She shook her head. “Just missed you.”
He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”
She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done. 
Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?
He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.
He loved having her like this. 
Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him. 
She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.
“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable. 
She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming. 
He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time. 
A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.
“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.
She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.
His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.” 
“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”
He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed. 
“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”
//
Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.
Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room. 
His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.
He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing. 
“Have you ever…?”
He shook his head, sheepish. “No.” 
She nodded. 
A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”
She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”
“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”
“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?” 
“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.” 
“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.” 
It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”
She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.” 
Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.” 
“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.” 
He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”
He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”
“Have you?” She grinned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.” 
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”
“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”
“I won’t hold that against you, either.”
She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his. 
He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.
“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care. 
If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure. 
She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.
He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate. 
She tensed. “You don’t have to—”
“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”
Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”
It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.
“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”
She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.
He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something  right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s. 
“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.
He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.
“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”
She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.
Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.
“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”
He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.
He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.
He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.
His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”
She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”
He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts. 
“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust. 
She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop. 
“Christ, you’re — fuck,”  Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”
He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut,  being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” 
Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.
“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”
His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.
She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”
He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.” 
She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.
“You’ve only just noticed?”
//
It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him. 
His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.
Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.
“Fucking took you two long enough.”
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wosoamazing · 2 months
Text
The Transfer
Summary: You move to Barca.
Warnings: None I don't think
A/N: Google translated Spanish so I apologies if it is incorrect, hope you like it. Also as usual feel free to send requests, whether it is for this Series or for kid!readers, or something else. Hope you like it.
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You run to Leah when you see her, and give her a massive hug, you missed her, camp was hard, especially the second last day. There was a conversation you needed to have with her, you didn’t want to risk her finding out from someone else, so you decided to just start it right there and then in the airport.
“We need to talk about something, Le.”
“Go to Barca.”
“What?” you exclaim looking up at her, surely you heard her wrong.
“Go to Barca, you deserve it Bug, you’re amazing, go to Barca, you can always come back, Arsenal will take you back in a heartbeat, any club would take you back in a heartbeat, but you’re not going to want to come back, and I’ll visit I promise, and we can put daily facetime calls in our calendar for the first few weeks. Call me whenever you need, I’ll pick up the phone. But the girls are lovely there, and you will have Lucy and Kiera.”
“Wait, so you’re saying go? How did you find out?”
“Of course I’m saying go, it’s Barca, and the finding out part, well Alexia messaged asking if I knew anything I said no, asked Lucy and Kiera and they were like ‘yeah she spoke to us about what the people were like, and the environment etc we thought you knew’ Millie then walked in and was like ‘Guy’s shit just went down at the Matildas camp, might want to check your sister is okay though Leah’, Millie than told us what Sam told her and yeah”
“So, you’re not mad I didn’t ask you first?”
“No, I’m proud, you asked the right people the right questions, you stood up for yourself, you manage to do some pretty hard ball negotiations, and you didn’t let anyone make the decision for you, you stayed true to yourself, and I’m proud.”
_____
“Ready to go?” Lucy asks as your suitcases are loaded into the back of the car, you nod you had just played friendlies against the Lionesses in England, so at least the travel there was short, however the travel back to your club was going to be a bit longer, as you weren’t returning to Arsenal but to Barca.
“I feel sick,” Kiera moaned as she came out to join you and Lucy.
“Yeah, I told you to stop drinking, why do you think we didn’t drink.”
“Ah because she is still a week and one year underage, and you I don’t know, because you don’t know how to let loose and have fun,” Kiera replies. Last night some of your national and club teammates as well as some Leah’s national teammates had a party in your honour, to celebrate you going to Barca and to celebrate your Birthday, which was in a week.
_____
It was your first night staying at Lucy and Kiera’s and somehow it was conveniently team bonding night at their place. It didn’t seem like a coincidence at all. You were really nervous to meet the team, they all knew each other already, this was the first time you were joining a team that you were completely new in, when you joined Arsenal you already knew the girls really well because of Leah, and then when you joined the Matildas you had Steph, Kyra and Caitlin, but this was different.
You had stayed quiet for most of the night, watching the game, trying not to draw attention to yourself, however that was all unravelled when Mapi sighed “Estúpido Àrbitro. Eso fue claramente una falta.” (Stupid Referee, that was clearly a foul)
“Casi fue tarjeta amarilla.” (almost was a yellow card)
Everyone heads turned to you, and their jaws dropped. “You know Spanish?”
“Ah, well a bit, mainly to do with the game, one of my Friend’s Dad’s is Spanish and they talk Spanish at home, especially when he is watching the game.”
“Leah never told me that,” Lucy remarked, “Leah doesn’t necessarily know” “oh, so is this a friend or a friend.”
“Lucy leave the poor kid alone,” Kiera told her off.
“So it is a special friend,” “Is she, or he, cute?” “Do you have a photo?” the girls all asked at once.
“Girls, as Kiera said, leave the poor kid alone, she just got here” Alexia told them, they all shut up immediately.
_____
“Oh, Bebita, what’s wrong?” Alexia asks you as she walks into the locker room, you were slumped back in your locker, leaning against the wall, “come here”, she says as she drags you up and brings you in for a hug, in which you broke, tears start to stream down your face as you try to get out of Alexia’s grip, it was only your third day at Barcelona and yet here you were crying in front of your new captain. Alexia only tightened her grip at your actions cooing “It’s okay, I’m here,” rubbing your back slightly. “How about we sit down,” she sat down and pulled you into her lap, you rested your head on her shoulder, giving into her.
“I-I miss Le,” You sobbed into her shoulder.
“I know, its okay Bebita, we’re here,” Alexia could never understand completely how you felt but she could imagine, she could see how close you and Leah were which wasn’t surprising considering you had been living with her for the past six years but leaving her and only seeing her through the phone was something you were struggling with, and the team had started to notice it, you were always slightly sadder when you re-joined the team after being on the phone with Leah.
_____
You woke up and looked at the clock, it was 9:00am, ‘shit’ you mumble to yourself, you sprung out of your bed before flopping back into it, after having the realisation that you didn’t have training today, you had a game last night, which you played in, it was much tougher than the games at Arsenal, so you were exhausted.
It was only then that you took in your surrounds, there were balloons scattered around your room, and on the floor, there were little present signs with arrows. You quickly got yourself semi presentable before following the presents, they lead you into the living room, all your new teammates were there. “Surprise!” they all yelled whilst someone exploded one of those confetti guns, you were in fact surprised, you had been at Barca a week, you were expecting something low key with Lucy and Kiera not a whole team affair, “Come sit,” Lucy said tapping the empty section of couch between her and Alexia, as you walked over you couldn’t help but notice the pile of presents on the coffee table, you had already received gifts from your family and arsenal teammates, so these had to be from your Barca teammates but you couldn’t really believe it.
“You got these all for me?” you questioned in disbelief.
“Yes, they are all for you,” Alexia tells you before handing you a gift, “here open.”
You eventually finished making your way through the present pile and thanked everyone profusely.
However, while you thanked everyone Alexia walked in with three more presents, these ones were quite heavy. “Don’t open them yet, I just need to call someone,” whoever she was calling answered, and then she handed the phone to you, it was Leah and Lia, “Happy Birthday Bug! We may have some surprises for you, open the skinny rectangular one first. It’s from Katie, she wanted you to have it on your actual Birthday, make it more special” you opened it up and grinned it was a whoop, “tell her I like it please, and that I said thank you.”
“Will do bug, now the smaller of the two remaining was Lia’s idea, but both presents are from us” you opened the two gifts and at the sight of them tears left your eyes, “T-thank you,” your sister and Lia had just gifted you a new Mac Book Pro and a new iPhone. Ingrid moved closer to you and hugged you, knowing it was what you needed. After getting ready the rest of your morning was filled with fun festivities as the girls made sure to spoil you, however it was time to start getting ready to go out for dinner, so everyone returned to their own homes in agreeance they would all meet there, waiting for everyone to be there before they went in.
As you walked into the restaurant with the team Lucy whispered to you, “there may be one more surprise,” she gestured her head over to the massive table in the restaurant, where two familiar figures sat, you couldn’t control yourself and run over to them. “Hi Bug, glad you’re happy to see us,” Leah said hugging you “we missed you” Lia said now hugging you.
“I missed you too” you said before you sat down between them, you were grinning from ear to ear. “How are you here?” “Oh, this was all Alexia’s doing, she planned it all.” You looked over to you captain who winked at you, maybe Barca wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
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yikesmary · 10 months
Text
BEDTIME ROUTINE — jeon wonwoo x reader
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summary: where you loved times like these with your boyfriend, wonwoo.
notes: book boyfriend wonwoo is back! i wrote this completely out of the blue so apologies for any mistakes. also this went into a direction i didn’t expect it to go to, but i love it so much. it might be my favorite fic i’ve written so far on this blog.
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“You’re staring at me again,”
“Can you blame me? I have a beautiful man as my boyfriend,” you teased, enjoying the pink blush that was developing on Wonwoo’s cheeks.
“I’m not even doing anything, I’m just reading a book,” he told you.
“To look this good and still be doing something so simple is incredible!” You overexaggerated, throwing your hands in the air dramatically.
Wonwoo playfully rolled his eyes, but pulled you closer to him, your body practically glued to his. It was nighttime, and your usual bedtime routine consisted of Wonwoo either reading a book or playing a game on his phone and you went on your phone.
But there were moments when you and Wonwoo felt particularly clingy towards each other, and sometimes you found yourself falling asleep to Wonwoo’s voice as he read aloud the book he was reading while cuddled up to him. He didn’t mind whenever you fell asleep as he read, because he knows how much you loved his voice, so he takes it as a compliment.
“How’s the book so far?” You asked, resting your head on his chest, recognizing the book as the one you gifted to him on his birthday.
“It’s good, I’m glad I finally found the time to read it,” he smiled.
“I was worried whether or not it was a good book. I didn’t know whether or not you were going to like it,” you said.
“It could’ve been a book that had the same word printed on the pages hundreds of times and I’d still read it because you gave it to me,” Wonwoo said.
“Don’t be silly,”
“I’m serious! I keep everything you give to me,”
“Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenged.
“The bookmark you made me on our first date, I still use that. The letter you wrote me on our first anniversary, and the bracelet you made with Joshua for me while you were drunk,” he recounted.
“Really? You’ve kept all of those things?” You asked, and he nodded.
“We live together, how have I not seen these things in the house?”
“Because I hide them in places you’d never think to look,”
“Like where?”
“There’s a reason why I haven’t told you! It’s a secret,” he said, and you playfully rolled your eyes at him.
“It also helps that you’re small and there are places I can reach that you don’t,” he teased.
You gasped and said, “I would move if you weren’t so comfortable,”
As if to ensure you wouldn’t move, Wonwoo moved you even closer to him, if that was even possible. In the middle of the conversation, you didn’t realize that he closed the book and put it on the nightstand that was on his side of the bed.
Silence fell between you, neither finding a reason to say something. You just enjoyed the moment between the both of you while Wonwoo was fiddling with your fingers with his hand, in deep thought.
“Do you have anything from when we first started dating?”
“I do, but since you won’t show me yours so I won’t show mine,” you said, playfully twisting your head away from him.
“How about this, I’ll countdown to three and we both get the stuff from our hiding spots. That way we don’t reveal our locations,” Wonwoo negotiated.
“Deal.”
“One... Two... Three!”
At the final number, the both of you tried leaving the bed, but because of how close you were cuddled together, the farthest you were able to go before falling was the floor of your bedroom. It wasn’t a far drop, but it was funny enough that both you and Wonwoo erupted in laughs and giggles.
You had struggled so much trying to get up with laughing and trying to detangle yourself from your boyfriend that by the time you had managed to stand, you were practically out of breath. But that didn’t deter you from your mission, so you tried moving to where you hid your stuff.
Spotting the box that was labeled with your name, you grabbed the box and dashed back into the room. Wonwoo would never look through something that had your name on it, since for the most part, neither of you felt the need to mark anything as your own since you guys knew whose belonging belonged with who. 
So, if it was labeled, there was a purpose and Wonwoo would never violate your privacy like that.
By the time you arrived in the bedroom, Wonwoo was already on the bed, his legs crossed and waiting patiently with his box. You got on the bed and sat right across from him in a similar position as you.
He moved back so you had enough room to put the box in front of you and that was when the both of you exchanged looks and then without saying anything, switched boxes.
You opened the box and were both happy and touched to see the exact items that he had described beforehand, with more things that weren’t mentioned and you didn’t realize he kept them.
When you looked at him, you saw that he looked a bit confused about the items, so you decided to refresh his memory. “That ticket was from we went to the aquarium together, the picture is when we went to that one petshop and you couldn’t stop playing with the cats,”
He smiled at you, remembering those moments. You were about to say something else before a tiny, brown, leather book caught your attention inside of Wonwoo’s box. You took it out and showed it to him asking, “What’s this?”
At the question, Wonwoo turned sheepish. Then he said, “When we first started dating, every time we went out somewhere to eat or drink, I’d write down what you ordered so the next time we went there, I could order for you. Eventually, I memorized everything so there wasn’t a need for a book,”
You felt like you were in school again, feeling like your middle school crush just confessed to you and love was everything at that age. Putting the stuff to the side, you moved to kiss him and your hands were on his shoulders.
When you pulled away, you decided that the kiss wasn’t enough so you peppered him with kisses on your face. “That was so thoughtful and sweet of you to do. I love you so much,” you said, placing one final kiss on his lips once more.
He was only able to smile like a lovesick fool in response, which he was.
You looked at the clock and were surprised to see how late it was. “We should go to bed, it’s late and we should’ve been asleep an hour ago,” you told him.
“Maybe we should make this a part of our nighttime routine,”
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taglist (crossed out means I wasn’t able to tag you): @belladaises @smileyneos @xuenihao @winterpaos @wonhuiful @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @itsrachelsplace @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @minghaossv @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @yoonzinoooo​
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jishyucks · 5 months
Text
My Boss Followed Me Home for Christmas — pjs
‣ pairing: CEO!park jay x reader
‣ genre: fluff, coworkers-to-something more?, traces of hurt/comfort
‣ wc: 4.0k
‣ summary: Your ability to empathize was a blessing and curse. When you see your boss sitting alone in his office on Christmas Day, you can’t help but invite him to your family party. And when he actually says yes, you’re kind of stuck regretting the offer simply because you’re not sure how this is going to turn out.
‣ warnings: none I don’t think?, implications that Jay doesn’t have the best family (they’re just realllly busy, nothing too bad), reader has a big family, implied that reader is smaller/shorter than Jay
‣ an: 3rd in the True Love Gave to Me Series! I honestly enjoyed writing this so much (hence why it’s way longer than I wanted it to be),, the filipino rly jumped out in this with the big family and the games I’m sorry (>///<) it’s honestly just what I’m more familiar with so it was easier for me to write! Anyways,, ENJOY THIS AND THANKS FOR READING!!
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It was weird seeing the office so empty. 
You weren’t constantly dodging bodies on the way to your desk, you’re not overstimulated by the sounds of the printers and the ringing phones, and the place did not seem as suffocating as you usually make it out to be. 
But it was only empty because it was Christmas. There was absolutely no one here and you were only here to pick up your work agenda, which made complete sense why the office was so much more appealing. 
You wished it was usually like this. 
Your phone rings the second you reach your desk. When you go to check who was calling you, you find your mother’s contact photo blown up on your screen and you answer it almost right away. 
“Hey mom.”
“Honey, where are you? Are you on the way?” You can hear voices in the background at the other end of the line and you’re guessing your family just arrived at the party.
“I am,” you say, “I just dropped by the office to pick something up. I’m guessing I’ll be there in around fifteen to twenty minutes?” You lean against your desk. You realize your agenda is not sitting on your desk so you figured it was somewhere inside it. 
“Okay, hon,” your mom acknowledges your reply, “Take care on the way here, the roads are slippery.” She says something to someone next to her, and before you can even reply she hangs up. 
You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and pull your desk cabinet open, immediately finding your agenda on top of everything. You mutter a 'there it is' before you push the cabinet back shut, turning to leave. 
It’s before you leave that you notice the light on at the end of the long hallway to the left of your desk. It was a hallway rather hidden from the main office, so you hadn’t taken notice of it at first, but now that you did take notice, curiosity had gotten the best of you. 
Because who in the world was here on Christmas? 
You’d take a good guess and say it was a caretaker, but you didn’t think any of the caretakers were even paid well enough to be here on a major holiday. So if it wasn’t a caretaker, who was it?
You quietly make your way down the hallway, passing empty offices along the way. Then once you’ve just about reached the seemingly occupied room, you halt and use your neck to peek around the corner. 
A gasp almost audibly leaves your lips when your eyes catch sight of your boss sitting alone at his desk. His brows are furrowed as he stares up at his screen, eyes looking rather intently at whatever he was working on. You can tell that he didn’t expect anyone to catch him at the office, dressed in a simple designer hoodie. 
You hate how one of the first thoughts that enter your mind is how attractive the man looks just sitting there and typing. But you were human, after all. 
“Sir?” 
Jay jumps at your voice, swearing under his breath, “Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?” His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, he makes brief eye contact with you before he avoids it altogether. 
“I was just,” you hold up your agenda, “Picking this up… what are you doing here, sir? Don’t you have any plans for Christmas?” Sure your reply seemed a bit inconsiderate because in the back of your mind you knew not everyone celebrated Christmas or the holidays… but your boss had a mini Christmas tree sitting at the corner of his desk, so you figured he did celebrate the season in some way. 
Jay’s still slightly taken aback, frozen in his seat as he studies the random lines on his computer, “I… don’t.” You watch the way his lips flicker into a frown for a quick second before he plasters a fake smile, “But it’s okay! I have a lot of work to do anyway for Wednesday! Better to catch up befo—”
“Sir, I know I don’t really have a right to say this, but you should take the day off and relax,” you frown. 
Jay is unsure how to reply. He sits in his seat for a few brief moments and his mouth bobs open and closed like a fish. Cause, frankly, how can he reply to that when he wants to do anything but go home to an empty house? Why did it have to be you who had to catch him?
If it were anyone else, they would have left him alone. 
If it were anyone else, it would have been easier to send them off with some dismissive reply he can muster up in his head.
“I don’t really want to go home,” Jay says quietly. It’s so quiet that you almost don’t catch it. But you do. And because you do, you catch the way his lips remain downturned. He just thinks you can’t see it behind the miniature Christmas tree.
You feel a tickling feeling in your chest and without thinking, you ask, “Do you want to come to my family’s Christmas party tonight?” It’s funny because you don’t regret your question (well, just a bit, but that’s beside the point). In fact, a small part of you was actually glad that your mouth had decided to choke the question out before you could hold yourself back. 
Jay gulps. He wasn’t against it, but wouldn’t it be odd for him to come? 
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
You take a step forward so that you can now clearly see him. His eyes were running over the keys of his keyboard over and over, trying to keep himself from looking at you. “You won’t be a bother. My family’s pretty big so there’s a lot of space.”
“It’s really okay, Y/N, I’m fine spending time here.” 
“Sir, I promise you, it’s fine,” you press, “My other family members bring guests all the time and we don’t care.” You take another step forward and now it was harder for Jay to avoid your gaze. 
He’s forced to look up at you and that was his mistake. Jay feels his chest explode with warmth because he now just realized that you were dressed more casually than he was used to. You were wearing a pair of baggy jeans and underneath your long coat, he could see Rudolph printed on your ugly Christmas sweater. He admits to himself that you looked adorable, but to remain professional he keeps that thought at the back of his head. 
“If… if you insist,” Jay replies slowly, unsure whether or not he should turn his computer off 
Your eyes light up, “Well, I’m going there right now. You can follow me to my house.” 
“Right now?” Jay’s hesitant to move, hand frozen on his mouse, “As in right this second?”
The answer was yes. Right that second. 
The next thing Jay knew, he was following you up the stairs of your front porch and he was not even sure how to act. He was a CEO for God’s sake. Why was he nervous about joining you for a Christmas party when he’s always up at the front of a business room speaking? It wasn’t like he was meeting your family as your boyfriend or anything (and it for sure wasn’t because he wanted to make a good impression on your family…). 
“Where are my damn keys…” You’re standing at your front door, wrist-deep and rummaging through your small bag. Jay awkwardly stands behind you, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet like a little kid. 
Before you can even find your keys, the door swings open to reveal a short older woman with a kind smile. Her eyes light up at the sight of you and when she exclaims “Honey! Finally!” Jay immediately figures that the woman is your mom.
“Come in, come in,” she quickly says, “It’s cold out there. Oh! And you must be…?” Your mom leans over to look at Jay who’s unsure whether he should actually move. 
You speak up for him, “Um, mom, this is my bos—”
“I’m Jay,” he interrupts, “I’m–uh–Y/N’s coworker and friend.” 
“His family is–uh–busy for Christmas so I invited him,” you quickly add, “I hope that’s okay with you, mom.” 
You look back at him with a questioning look but he quickly dismisses it, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” 
“It’s no problem, the more the merrier! And oh, just call me Auntie! There’s really no need for those kinds of formalities,” your mom laughs. Then she looks over at you with a smirk ghosting her lips but she stops herself, “Everyone’s just waiting to eat.” 
You let your mom walk ahead and you stay back, “Sir, what—”
“Y/N, we’re not at work,” Jay points out. And hearing you call him sir was sort of irritating him right now, “It’s… Just call me Jay… besides you invited me into your home right?” Then he repeats what your mom said just moments ago, “No need for those kinds of formalities.”  
You can’t help but laugh, side-eyeing him, “Fine, if you say so, Jay.” 
You lead Jay into the house, and he’s greeted by your family members sprawled out all over the living room and kitchen. When you said your family was big, you weren’t kidding. He had no idea how he was supposed to approach this situation. 
When Jay turns the corner, trailing you closely, he’s met with a room full of people, all dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters like you were. A few of your older relatives were sitting at the dining table chatting about something seemingly interesting. At one corner of the nearby living room, right by the Christmas tree, were kids shaking presents, trying to take good guesses as to what they were receiving this year. And huddled on the couches was a group of young adults around your age—he’d guess they were your cousins—and they were having their own conversation, too. 
And though Jay should be feeling out of place because not only does he not know anyone but you, he wasn’t wearing an ugly Christmas sweater like everyone else was, he simply doesn’t. 
The atmosphere felt welcoming—that was his first impression. And he couldn't have been happier when you started introducing him to everyone, making him genuinely feel welcome.
Your aunts and uncles gazed at him with large eyes, curious about who this boy was despite you clearly introducing him as your friend. And when you brought him to meet your cousins last, you were surprised that Jay easily clicked with your guy cousins. It was like you were seeing a whole different side of your boss, one that proved that he was your age and not the uptight CEO you face at work.
“The dress code for this year was ugly Christmas sweaters,” you say once you both settled with your cousins, “But I’m guessing you already noticed.” Jay sits cross-legged in the empty spot next to you.
Jay nods, “Your family all seem so nice.” 
“I’m glad you think that,” you grin, “I take pride in that, if I’m being honest.” Then you realize that the topic of family might be a bit too sensitive for Jay and you try to change it, “Anyways, after dinner, we play games. You better join.” 
“I’ll try?” Jay questions. You can tell he’s growing more comfortable with the situation, but he’s still trying to keep himself composed. 
“Trying is better than nothing,” you shrug, “But I promise you you’ll have a lot of fun.”
There’s a brief silence between the two of you and Jay has this sudden urge to thank you. Because, well, it made sense in this situation. He could wait ‘till the end, but he was itching to just shower you in thank yous.
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“This took me a while to find deep in your dad’s things but I finally found it!” Your mom comes out of nowhere, arms slipping between the two of you to reveal an ugly sweater, “I know your dad had another from years ago!”
“I’m confused,” you say.
“For Jay!” Your mom holds the sweater out for Jay to take, a bright smile stretched across her face. She jokes, “Don’t want you sticking out like a sore thumb in pictures. Why are you wearing black on Christmas, hm?” 
You almost facepalm, seeing your mom treat Jay like he was your boyfriend. Sure, it was great she was trying to make Jay feel even more included, but the gesture seemed so… odd to be doing it with just a friend of yours. You’re hoping that Jay isn’t getting the wrong idea because, frankly, it would be embarrassing if he did.
“Oh… t-thank you auntie…” Jay gulps and you see his eyes flicker toward you. He wonders if you think it was weird for him to take it. But he didn’t want to say no to your mom, not when she went out of her way to find the sweater, “I’ll put it on right now.”
“You better,” your mom jokes one more time before leaving you both and back to your other relatives. 
You watch as Jay goes to take his hoodie off, revealing a white t-shirt. At first glance, you don’t process what’s printed on his shirt, but when he fumbles with the sweater, you realize that it’s an old Christmas shirt from when he was a kid. The text reads Christmas 2010 and the picture is a picture of him and his parents. You figured that the shirt was probably his dad's.
You smile sadly, eyeing the shirt as he throws on the sweater. You don’t notice, but the corners of Jay’s lips lift upward into a small, subtle smile. He looks up at you, “How does it look?”
“It looks good,” you say, “A little bit big, but it’s fine.” You can see the way the sleeves bunch up at Jay’s wrists. He looked rather adorable in the sweater (and again, you don’t say anything).
The games began soon after it was established that everyone was finished digesting their food. 
One of your older cousins, who had planned the games, started the games with the kids first. You secretly knew it was just a tactic to get them tired for later, hoping that they’d settle while the adults and older kids played their own games.
Then when that was done and over with, she moved on to the first game that you and Jay could participate in—the island game. The premise of the game was to step onto a sheet of gift wrapping paper and, along with a partner, fold and manipulate it so that they both could stand on it without touching the floor. 
“We need six groups of two!” 
Two by two, you watch your cousins as they group together, stepping up to get the secret prize sitting in a gift bag. 
“You two should join!” your mom urges, “What fun is it just watching? Jay, you must be clever right? Go try!”
Afraid to say no to your mom, Jay turns to you, “I’ll do it if you do it… you said it’d be fun, right?”
You hesitate for a quick moment. Yes, the games were fun, but you were talking about the relays or the simple, single-player games. You weren’t sure if you wanted to play with Jay, simply because it involved having to get all up close and personal with your partner. 
You look around and notice that a handful of your family members are waiting for you and Jay to join, and that pressure is something you can’t take. You nod and plaster a smile on your face, “Right! Let’s go!” 
Nervously you walk to an empty sheet sitting flat on the ground and Jay follows you, standing at your side as your cousin runs over the rules. You wait for Jay to realize the mistake he’s made by suggesting to play, but instead of a look of worry, he’s smiling. He looked rather excited, a hint of determination ghosting his face. 
Before you both know it, the game begins. The first round was the easiest—you both had simply stood within the two-feet by two-feet sheet of paper. But as each round passes, the area that you and Jay can stand on gets smaller and smaller. And as the area shrinks, so does the space between you two.
You’re so close to him that you can smell his perfume and you can feel his breath against your forehead. Your heart betrays you because you can feel it pounding against your chest. You only hope that Jay doesn’t hear or feel it. 
You look down at the folded sheet of paper. It was less than half of its original size and something is telling you that the next round was going to be difficult. 
Your cousin cues for the next round to begin and you and Jay get off the paper to fold it. He mumbles, “I don’t think we can both stand on this. Or both our feet at least.” 
“We can each balance on one foot,” you suggested. You test out the size and place your foot on it. There was barely enough room for two feet.
When Jay notices this he shakes his head, “I don’t think that would work… we’d just fall over. I think I’ll have to carry you.” His suggestion makes you look up and you find him staring back, “You can get on my back?”
“Can you balance on one foot with me on your back?” you question. It’s suddenly getting hot in the room. Was it your sweater? You hope so. You don’t want to dwindle on the thought any longer. 
He nods, “I think I can.” 
“O-Okay,” you say quietly. You glance at the other teams and see that your cousins are on the brink of tears trying not to laugh because if they laughed, they’d lose balance with the ridiculous poses they’re somehow pulling. 
Jay kneels down, one knee touching the ground before he gestures for you to get on. And you do, though you get on carefully because you’re still not processing the situation. Once you hop on his back, Jay gently guides your legs around his torso and he pulls your upper body closer to his back with a tug on your sleeve. When you are secured on his back, he easily stands up. 
Now you’re afraid that he can feel the way your heart’s beating against his back. There was absolutely no way he couldn’t. 
“It’s easier for me if you’re like this,” he says to you. You nod even though you’re right behind him, “Stay as still as you can.” 
Jay steps onto the folded piece of paper, waiting for your cousin to tell the teams that it is time to hold positions. Once she had given the signal, Jay raised his left leg in the slightest, balancing on just his right foot. 
Almost immediately, your cousins fail to keep themselves from touching the ground and, somehow, you and Jay are the only ones left standing. You don't process it until it is announced.
“Congratulations to Y/N and Jay for being the first adult winners of the night!” Your cousin cheers. You notice that she has tears in her eyes from laughing as she approaches you both with the prize. A bunch of the older adults are clapping in amusement, heads shaking from the entertainment. 
You quickly jump off of Jay’s back, and out of habit, you grab his hand, shaking it out of joy. You repeat a ‘we won’ a couple of times and Jay couldn’t help but beam at the string of events, watching as you receive the present for the both of you.
Jay has never in his life played party games at a family party. Sure his family was too busy to even have parties like this, but even if they did have the time to plan out a party, his family was too small for these games to even be considered fun. 
And if he were being honest, this party was the most fun he’s had in so long. 
“What is it?” Jay leans in close to you, trying to catch sight of whatever’s in the bag. You both have settled on the couch while the next game begins. 
You pull the prize out to reveal two big bags of your favourite expensive holiday chocolate and your eyes gleam at the sight. You drop one bag and then hand the other to Jay, “Here you go. That was fun!”
Jay nods, a smile settling upon his lips. “It really was.” The adrenaline from the game is beginning to vanish and he’s coming down from his high. “Let’s play the next one?”
When it was getting late, Jay decided that it was time to leave. It wasn’t like he was leaving to escape from the party, because truly, he had spent so much time on games and picture-taking that his energy was beginning to diminish. He’d love to stay, but he knows that tomorrow, he’ll have to be back at the office doing work. 
He wonders how this night will change the way you guys are in office. Surely, he’ll keep his professionalism at work, but he can’t just pass by you tomorrow and act like you didn’t willingly invite him into your home to spend Christmas with your family. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir!” You say at the doorway, “I hope you had fun.” Jay is silent for a few long moments and you can’t help but call out to him, “Sir?”
“S-sorry, I just started getting you used to calling me by name that it threw me off,” he replies sheepishly. 
“Oh… um, I’ll call you whatever you’d like.” 
“When we’re out of the office, just call me Jay okay?” Jay shuffled forward and he’s closer to you now, “It’s more fitting, don’t you think?” 
You nod and you huff out a large puff of air that shows up in front of you, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Jay.” 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jay echoes. There's a lingering feeling in the cool air that engulfs the both of you. You couldn't quite put a name to it, but it was a nice feeling. It was warm. Then, before you know it, Jay finds himself giving you a hug. And not one of those half-assed side hugs, but one that you could easily tell he needed.
You hesitate at first, but then you slowly return the gesture.
After what felt like a while, he stepped back, “S-sorry I... I'm just really thankful for tonight. Tell your family thank you, too.” There’s so much more that Jay wants to say, but for now, this will simply suffice. 
“It’s nothing,” you say, still slightly stunned, “I expect to see you next year, then.” 
One corner of Jay’s lips jerks up and he laughs, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
When Jay leaves, you turn back to rejoin your family, who’s looking at you expectedly. 
“What?”
“Did you guys kiss?” One of your cousins joke.
You brows furrow and you burst out laughing, “Ha! No way!” What the hell was this guy even talking about? You and Jay kissing? He was your boss for god’s sake. Isn’t that like… forbidden or something? 
You try to change the topic because the thought was mind-boggling and you didn’t want them to catch the way your cheeks and your ears were heating up at the thought. “He says thank you,” You say and move to sit next to them, “And I told him he should come next Christmas.”
Your mom betrays you, “As your boyfriend?” Of course she would say that. 
Another laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head, “I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”
(Or so you think.)
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taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi
an: ughhhhhh I really love this pair (ಡ᎔ಡ) it would be soso cute to see more of them but I can'tttt I need to write the other ones,, pls leave comments cause I love hearing your thoughts!,, n e ways I hope you enjoyed this! Renjun is up next, so please look forward to his!
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luvring · 9 months
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FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS
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gn!reader | timeskip kenma, hinata, sakusa, suna
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KENMA’s chat has never moved faster than now as you sit together and watch edits that fans have made of him, and the two of you. you jokingly coo and hug him when you find an edit about “how he looks at you.” “ken! oh my god, you’re so—” “shut up, scroll away already.” “no, i’m sending this to myself, stop—give me the phone!” kenma turns away, forcing you to wrap yourself around him in a desperate attempt to grab the phone while it’s still on the video. the both of you are laughing when you yell, “chat, chat, somebody send that edit to me!” “chat, don’t listen to them. we aren’t even dating. this relationship was fake the whole time.” “shut the fuck up, kenma.” you say in mock annoyance—a grin still on your face—and hit his arm. he snickers as you stop to rest your head on his shoulder and frown. "please?" a beat passes before he huffs. “fine. i’ll send it to you after.” it was an inevitable outcome, but you still cheer and turn back to the stream to see everyone’s reaction, not catching the loving gaze he has on his face watching you again.
HINATA, despite his usual energy, finds his eyes drooping as he watches the live chat scroll past him. it was late, and he decided to talk to fans before going to bed—about upcoming games, a new restaurant he visited that he thinks might become a favourite, how he’s been looking for new shoes. it’s been maybe an hour when his responses are filled with more hums than sentences, and he decides to rest his head. by the time you find him, he’s been asleep for 10 minutes. “hi guys, i’m gonna end the live and get this guy to bed now,” you whisper with an amused smile. shoyo shuffles at the sound of your voice, and his comes out muffled against the pillow. “babe?” “sorry, sho, did i wake you?” “mm, ‘s okay. are you coming t’bed soon?” “yeah, just ending your live.” “...oh. goodnight everybody,” he murmurs and raises his fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave. his fans watch as he reaches for you, eyes still closed, and make sure to take screenshots of the sleepy, lovesick smile on his face after you kiss his forehead before the live ends.
SAKUSA’s always been teased about how little he posts on his social media outside of things related to his career. it’s not a shock that your relationship isn’t something he posts casually. after an interviewer jokes about how fans might think he’s single, or that you’ve broken up by this point, kiyoomi decides to make a photo dump encompassing the last few months with you. it has a photo of you tucked in bed and sleeping the first night at the new apartment, a video of you singing where he can be heard softly laughing in the background, a photo of you smiling at the birthday gifts and dinner you enjoyed together, a blurry selfie with the two of you kissing, and one where kiyoomi, known for his stoic face and attitude, is a little tipsy and smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind. fans pour out words of support and excitement below his caption of “i love you. happy anniversary, and thank you for letting me be yours.”
SUNA and you are chatting with some fans when one asks if you’ve been watching anything lately. you both say the name of the drama you’re watching together without hesitation, the most recent episode still on your mind. “the way he like, turned her to face him and they were so close before finally kissing—” you cut yourself off with a grin, flustered at the thought as everyone excitedly agrees. “has suna ever done something like that?” someone asks. rintarou turns to you the same time you look at him, cocking his head to the side with a teasing smile. “yeah, have i ever done anything like that?” “no,” you lie, staring right at him. his fans team up, “ooooh”’s thrown his way. you’re not sure what anyone was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to take it as a challenge and step closer. the crowd is suddenly quiet as he leans in, eyes flickering from looking into yours down to your lips. “are you sure?” he murmurs. your breath hitches as he moves in even closer, lips barely an inch from yours. before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering closed as his hand comes to cup your face and lips meet yours. it’s barely a few days later until a video of you kissing goes viral, and rintarou is saving it to his gallery.
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@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist
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kidney9-9 · 4 months
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Lesson Learned - Peter Parker
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@hollandlover19 asked:
So idk if I’m being annoying with all my requests and if I am I’m really sorry but could you write something about Peter and the reader are both avengers and y/n is Tony’s daughter and they’ve been quarantining at the compound and every time they try to have sex they get interrupted by ether Sam or Bucky and they’ve noticed that they’re always interrupting them at the worst times so Sam and Bucky make a game out of it just to piss peter off by trying to see how many times they can ruin the mood and so far it’s been two months also Peter and the reader are both 18🖤🖤🖤
Hi Natalie, sorry it's so late haha! I hope you enjoy, thank you for sending this in :) I enjoyed writing this! It was so much fun. Steve is in this too! Peter Parker x Stark!Reader [Smut with Fluff and Angst, Happy ending] Warnings: Cursing, smut, creampie, exhibitionist kink, hand job, mention of threesome and foursome, threats, tiny part about sickness, Peter being feral/creepy, small mention of stalking, and betting money Word Count: 8k
-
When the Avengers crew got hit with a contagious and possibly dangerous virus, you were all ordered to stay at the compound for quarantine until it was completely out of everyone’s system. Unfortunately, it seemed that the virus stayed around in the body for usually about three months. You were glad you had your boyfriend, dad, and friends there though.
It seemed somewhat like a weird staycation, except sometimes you woke up with a fever and a stuffy nose and some days you felt completely normal. The only one that had the worst case out of all of you was Bruce, which was strange for him. He normally didn’t get sick easily, but somehow the virus really got to him. He practically stayed in his lab all the time, trying to find different treatments for his sore throat and stuffy nose.
Today, you had absolutely nothing to do, and so did Peter, so you both had planned on having a fun sexy day without your dad and coworkers finding out. You two were sitting in one of the indoor hot tubs, making out with each other heavily.
“Fuck, rub up on me just like that and I’ll be fucking you against the pool tile.” Peter groaned into your ear as you dropped your head down to his neck, sucking and licking at his sweet spots while pushing your hips down on his. The hot tub was bubbling and pretty hot, but it didn’t stop you two from getting it on.
“Do it, baby, want you in me.” You panted back, rubbing and grinding your clothed pussy against his hard on. He had taken off his shorts a few minutes ago after whining about how tight it was in his swimsuit.
“Uh, fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He responded, putting a hand in your hair, and guiding you back to his lips. You opened your mouth and kissed him, groping his tongue with yours, memorizing his mouth.
His other hand had been tugging at your bikini top, undoing it after a few moments of struggle. You two parted just for a second to get the top off of you and he switched spots with you, pushing you up against the tile and humping up against your pussy.
“Take off my – ah, fuck,” You gasped loudly, head falling back as he started to pinch one nipple and kiss and suck on the other harshly.
He understood what you were trying to say, so he tugged on your bikini bottoms and pulled down until they reached your knees and you kicked them off, letting them float in the hot tub.
“Want me to fuck you right here, huh?” He grunted as he pulled away from your breasts. You nodded, panting back.
“Need you now, Peter, please. Want you in me right now.” You begged, pushing your hips back up to his. You could feel his dick press up against your labia, rubbing up on your clit, causing you to have a high-pitched moan.
Right when he started to push into you, the door opened on the other side of the room. Thankfully, the hot tub was steaming, and you practically pushed Peter to the other side of the hot tub and dived underwater, so whoever it was, wouldn’t see what was happening.
“Ah, uh, hello?” Peter called out in rushed pants, trying to calm himself down. He grabbed his swim shorts that were on the pool tile and quickly pulled them on as he heard two different footsteps coming your way.
“Oh hey, Pete! You here by yourself?” Sam called out, gazing around the room, not noticing anything off. Bucky though, narrowed his eyes at the hot tub, looking at the blurry shape under the water.
“Uh, well you know,” Peter tried to stumble through some words, but you popped right out of the water, smiling nervously at the two men.
“Hey guys!” You greeted them.
“What were you doing under the water?” Bucky instantly questioned. You and Peter glanced at each other for a moment, his blush worsening, but you played it off cool.
“Holding my breath, wanted to beat my score from last time.” You explained, running a hand through your hair.
He raised an eyebrow at you, “Yeah? What was the time?” Sam looked over to Bucky, wondering why he was being so curious right now, but started to take off his shirt to get into the pool right next to the hot tub.
“Two minutes and fourteen seconds right now. Should get it higher though, just in case.” You shrugged back. Peter nodded along frantically, still trying to calm himself down.
“Huh, okay, keep up the good work, kid.” Bucky responded, still narrowing his eyes at Peter and you. After a few minutes of chatting, you excused yourself to go to your room while Peter stayed and talked to Sam and Bucky while they swam in the pool.
Peter had to wait until they left, since his boner wouldn’t go down and he really didn’t want them to see that.
He rushed to your room, and you opened it instantly after he knocked. His face was red as he walked into your room, and you shut it.
“That was too close, oh gosh, I feel so embarrassed!” Peter cried out and pressed his hands into his face. You fell back onto your bed, agreeing with him.
“Yeah! Why the fuck was Bucky questioning me like that? He usually is so calm and chill to be around.” You groaned back.
Peter’s shoulders raised up, “He knew. He totally knew, right?” He whispered to you, eyes wide.
You cough in surprise, “Woah, okay, no way. He’s an old ass man, he wouldn’t know what sex is anymore.”
Peter snorted in amusement, “He listens to erotica audio books during his stealth missions, I’m pretty sure he knows more about sex than us.”
You look at Peter with a confused expression, “Why do you know he does that?”
He looked embarrassed as he answered, “I wanted to watch his mission one time, since he’s so cool… He didn’t realize I was listening to the comms, so he put it on.”
You clutched your stomach as you started laughing hard, “Oh shit! Wonder if Sam and Steve know!”
-
The next time you guys were caught, Peter’s hand was up your shirt, clutching one of your breasts as you moaned into his neck. You guys were in the little movie theater your dad built on as entertainment. You two were thankfully, covered by a blanket.
“Baby, I wanna taste you so bad right now, bet you’d taste delicious.” Peter groaned and you nodded back, tugging him back up for a wet kiss.
“Do it, Peter, lick me.” You whimpered back, pulling away from the heavy kiss. Just as he was unbuttoning your pants, Sam walked into the room with a container of popcorn and a drink.
The lights were low, but you and Peter knew he could tell instantly what was happening. Peter pulled away as Sam laughed awkwardly, “Wow, getting freaky in the theater? I used to do that too with my girlfriend when I was younger.”
Peter’s blush was heavy as he denied it, “Uh no! I was just adjusting the blanket, she’s cold.”
“Yea, I’m pretty cold right now.” You faked a shiver and Sam shook his head dismissively.
“Nah guys, trust me, I get it. But I did text the group chat earlier today that I was hosting a Star Wars marathon at this time. I was just putting some snacks in the room. Pretty sure Bucky, Steve, and Clint were joining me. Do you guys want to stay?” He offered, thankfully looking past the fact you and Peter were just about to hook up in the room.
You didn’t feel like watching Star Wars since you were still feeling pretty affected by what you guys were doing, but you knew Peter was going to be up for it. He looked at you, as if silently asking if it were okay for him to stay and watch the movies and you smiled and nodded back to him.
“Yeah! I love Star Wars so much. How are you starting it? Originals first? Prequels?” Peter cheered himself up and his blush went down as him, and Sam started talking.
You left the room with a wave and a smile, and you went to your room and took care of yourself with a toy there. Wasn’t the best, but it did help a bit.
-
The next day, Sam was making his breakfast, and Bucky walked in. He muttered a good morning to Sam, and Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise as he remembered what happened yesterday.
“Dude, remember when you told me Peter and Y/n were about to fuck in the hot tub that one time?” Sam brought up, spreading butter on his toast. He grabbed a mug and poured some coffee into his cup, glancing at Bucky.
“Yeah? You still don’t believe me? I practically could smell it in the air.” Bucky scrunched his nose up, recalling the day.
“Well, I caught them in the act yesterday in the theater. It’s a bit surprising, isn’t it? Since Tony is here too, like wouldn’t they be extra cautious not to get caught so easily? I would hate to get caught by my parent.” Sam shuddered.
“They seriously did that… after we caught them the last time? Didn’t expect that of Peter. He seemed like a pretty timid guy.” Bucky shook his head, sighed, and opened the fridge up.
“They’re going to do it again. One of them must have some fucking kink for this shit – or maybe both of them. It’s so funny too, looking at Peter just confirms it. His face is all red and he has this dazed look. And Y/n, well, she’s a pro, can’t tell at all.” Sam laughed.
“Yeah, that’s what happens when the girls gang up every Tuesday for girls’ night. Natasha’s probably been teaching her some spy techniques and Wanda helps her with her expressions for sure.” Bucky threw a guess out there.
Sam laughed harder, “We should probably teach Peter how to hide it better.”
Bucky shook his head immediately, “No, fuck that. We’re going to screw around with them even more. Every single day let’s search for them when we know they’re together. I can guarantee you they’re probably hooking up. Peter should learn that way.”
Sam whistled low, “You’re cold hearted, man. But agreed, I just want to see Peter get embarrassed and flustered again, he looks like a scared little puppy.”
Bucky grinned, “And by the time we’ll end this thing, he’ll be better at acting, then he could get promoted. He’ll thank us for this.” He grabbed a drink from the fridge, opened it and watched as Sam took a bite of his toast.
“Right, well I’m free most of the time, unless I’m doing my running. You know my schedule though.” Sam responded, and Bucky nodded back in agreement.
“I’ll text you when we could start today.” Bucky replied.
-
Peter wrapped his arms around you from behind, grinning as you turned your head and kissed his cheek. “How’s my baby doing?” He asked, whispering into your ear. You spun around in his arms and kissed him deeply, causing him to pull away for a moment with a dazed look on his face.
“Woah.” He breathed out, “What was that for?”
You smiled sexily at him, “Well,” You tilted your head and pressed up against him, “We didn’t get to finish our session yesterday, right? How about right now we finish it?” You asked, pressing kisses up and down his neck.
He sighed heavily, knees feeling weak at your touch, “Yes, yes, we will finish it right now. Can’t go without you and your pussy for more than a day.”
“Good, so come on, let’s go up to the sun deck, it’s too stuffy in here.” You winked at him and pulled away after patting his shoulder.
He groaned and chased after you as you started to run to the elevator. “No fair! Wait up for me!” He shouted after you and you laughed back.
As you got up there, you quickly pulled your shirt off, throwing it at Peter, who caught it with his reflexes kicking in. You ran towards one of the sun beds, and sat down, taking your shoes off.
“Wait, wait, out in the open like this, is it okay?” Peter asked, breathing heavily. You nodded and shrugged back.
“Come on, the only person who comes up here is Thor, and Thor didn’t get affected by the virus. Didn’t even carry it. So, he’s off doing that gaming tournament, remember?” You responded back, lifting your hand and pulling Peter to sit next to you.
“Oh right, damn, I wanted to join him. He’s gotten good at that new game, they even made a character for him.” Peter oohed back to you. He pressed his hand to your back, sliding up and down as he scooted closer to you.
“Mhm, now enough about Thor and more kissing.” You giggled, and Peter agreed, pressing a kiss to your lips, then another and another, until you were both starting to pant and lay back against the sun bed.
“Fuck,” He breathed out, pushing his hand down your pants and cupping your pussy, “You’re not wearing panties.”
You pressed up into him as he slipped a finger into your vagina, starting to push in and out. “Oh Peter, more please.”
He pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles as he slipped another finger in, curling it to hit your g-spot. “Ah fuck! Fuck, more, more!” You cried out and he dipped down and kissed your lips.
The next thing Peter heard though, was the door opening up, and he pulled away from you and practically jumped into the other chair next to you. You were panting and glaring at him for pulling away just as you were building up your orgasm, but he put his hand to his lips, pressing his finger up as a shushing motion and your eyes widened as you realized someone came up here.
You quieted yourself down and adjusted your outfit, and pressed back into the chair as if you were just resting.
Sam and Bucky rounded the corner and waved at you guys. “Oh, hey guys!” Sam spoke up in a cheerful voice.
You faked a smile back and responded, “Hi Sam! How are you today? Hey Bucky! Did you see that you got those packages in the mail this morning?”
Peter, however, was a mess. He was licking his hand clean of your slick, burning red and lips puffy from kissing you so much. You didn’t dare look at him, knowing he would blush even harder if he looked at your face.
Sam snorted quietly at Peter, he thought he looked like a dork, and wow was he really licking his fingers? It was too funny for him. “I’m doing pretty well actually. Just wanted to feel the sun today. Guess we all had the same idea?”
Bucky crossed his arms and watched Peter with a hard expression. “Peter. What are you licking?”
Peter gaped at him and then at his fingers. Fuck. “Well – I uh, I was sweating a bit too much?”
You were mortified at the lie, you wanted to laugh so bad, and wow Peter really didn’t know how to lie right.
Sam looked like he was about to burst out laughing. “Yeah? Maybe you should get checked up on that, especially since we’re quarantined for a virus right now.”
Peter nodded vigorously, “Yes. That. I’ll do that.”
“Did you not brush your hair today? It’s so messy… almost like sex hair. Huh.” Bucky spoke up again, glaring at Peter and you rolled your eyes at his words. So nosy!
“Wow Bucky! I didn’t know you were into my boyfriend like that. Maybe we can arrange something together, especially since you love reading erotica during your stealth missions, huh?” You copied his tone and glared right back at him. You didn’t want him verbally attacking your boyfriend.
Sam barked in surprised laughter, “Erotica? I told you I could set you up with one of my friends!” He was staring at Bucky in a new light.
Peter huffed out a breath of relief for getting the attention off him, he was thankful for you stepping up like that.
Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, “As much as I appreciate your offer, doll, I don’t think your dad and boyfriend would like that very much.”
You just smirked back at him and laid back down, staring straight up. “Yeah, I understand, you’re too nervous to actually fuck, you can go back to your erotica, it’s okay!”
Peter made a noise next to you, practically freaking out that you were jeering at Bucky and calling him pussy for not wanting to have sex with you and himself (Peter). The thought was very much welcomed. He told you how attractive he thought Bucky was and you agreed with him, but he never expected you to voice anything like that to Bucky. Even Sam was attractive to Peter, they were like mac and cheese or a two for one deal.
Sam was having a blast, hearing this and watching this happen. On one side, Peter was freaking out for being caught, and then Bucky started practically interrogating him – and then you were taunting Bucky! Wow, this was fun.
But then your eyes turned to him, “Hmm, you can join in too Sammy, you don’t have to feel so lonely, especially since none of your friends can come over right now.”
Oh, shit, Sam thought, and laughed even harder. He loved your humor.
Bucky though, was exasperated with your words. You were a Stark! Of course, you’d invite him and Sam into a sexcapade with Peter. He hoped Peter was learning how to play cool though, so he could get better at his job. He wondered briefly how you guys knew about his erotica audiobooks though.
“Whatever, I’ve had enough sun now. Think I’ll head back inside.” He excused himself and gazed over at Sam, who was still laughing.
“Yeah, yeah, bye guys! Wrap it before you pound it, Peter!” Sam chortled out another laugh and followed Bucky to the door.
You turned to Peter and sighed, “We didn’t finish again.” You pouted and Peter pressed his head into his hands.
“Next time, there’s always next time.” He promised you.
-
Turns out, there is no next time when Sam and Bucky were always around! Peter was so pissed off. He just wanted to be with you and have sex with you, but nope! Even in your room, they’d show up and knock and ask if you guys wanted to do something.
A whole two weeks have gone by, and Peter hasn’t been able to fuck you at all. Just a peck before Sam or Bucky or together they’d show up, grinning like mad men.
You were irritated too, but your irritation was more with Peter because he had no clue how to act in front of them whenever they showed up, so you were now initializing sex with him a lot less than normal. You even started hanging out with your dad and Wanda more than with him.
He felt so frustrated. He even asked if you guys could do phone sex, and you shook your head at him and say it wasn’t worth it and you could go do some other things that would be better to waste the time.
He was so close to his limit of blowing up and yelling at Sam and Bucky, but that would attract the attention from your dad, Tony, and wow, Peter did not want to explain why he was yelling at those two to Tony, his boss aka your dad.
He could even picture Tony kicking his ass into the next century by just saying those words to him. He was so protective of you, which was kind of adorable but not when Peter was just a guy who wanted to be with his girlfriend.
-
“Peter’s still not learning how to tone down his facial expressions. He can’t even lie that well.” Sam sighed to Bucky, sitting down as they put on a movie. Steve looked at the two of them in interest, wondering what they were talking about.
Bucky glanced over to Steve and grinned, “We’ve been catching Peter and Y/n whenever they try to have sex. We’re the cockblocker Avengers.”
Steve looked horrified, “Guys, what? Does Tony know this?”
Sam widened his eyes and shook his head, “Nope, fuck that. We’re not risking that. We just want Peter to learn how to control his expressions and now also learn how to lie better so we can get him a promotion.”
Bucky nodded in agreement, “It’s been a while since this started, I thought Peter would figure it out and get us to stop, since Tony calls him a genius.”
Steve gaped at the two of them, “So you’re telling me that Peter and Y/n are having sex? How long have they even been together for?”
Sam and Bucky were silent for a few moments before they burst into laughter, with Bucky slapping his leg and Sam clutching his shirt. They were laughing so hard that Bucky’s face turned red from the lack of oxygen he was breathing in.
“Oh god! You didn’t know?!” Sam cried out, laughing harder.
“Absolutely not, does Tony know?” Steve seemed alarmed, and Bucky rolled his eyes and calmed himself down.
“That they’re dating? Yes, Steve. There was a whole spectacle last year where Peter got on the floor and asked Tony for permission to ask her out.” Bucky explained.
“Oh! Oh. In December, right?” Steve asked to clarify.
“Right.” Sam nodded back.
“That was when Tony was in that awful mood and caused that international incident.” Steve oohed to himself and shook his head.
“You didn’t know why that happened? Yeah, it was Peter and Y/n.” Bucky sighed.
“Well, that… actually explains a lot around here. I thought they were just good friends.” Steve blinked and nodded to himself.
“Yeah, just don’t mention what we’re doing to Peter and Y/n in front of Tony. Anyway, Peter isn’t learning a thing and I think they’re both in a rut right now. It looks like she keeps turning him down.” Sam spoke up.
“Aw, Peter probably is angry with you guys.” Steve voiced.
Bucky snorted, “Fuck yeah, he is. Nerd has got to learn his lesson before we stop.”
Sam shrugged, “I think he’ll learn within the week, right?”
Bucky shook his head, “No way. At least two weeks.”
Steve narrowed his eyes and thought about this. He knew a bit more about Peter personality wise. He used to be like Peter and Peter used to be like him when they were younger.
“I bet you both $500 that it’s going to take at least a month.” Steve declared.
Sam and Bucky looked at each other and grinned widely, “Deal! You’re on.” Bucky shouted. Sam laughed, “This is a fool’s bet. You could give me $500 now.”
Steve shrugged and gazed back to the massive screen, “Hm, we’ll see who wins.”
-
Peter and you were finally alone in the pantry. Steve had ordered pizza for everyone and left it out in the dining room for people to come and get, so you two were alone in the kitchen.
“I missed you so much, baby, I love you so much too, fuck I really need you.” Peter pleaded with you, considering if he should get down on his knees and beg you to just even kiss him.
You pouted back at him, “I do too, honey. I want you too, but I’m not in the mood to get caught again and have you acting like a fool.”
Peter shook his head frantically, “Baby, no, it won’t happen this time. I made sure. Look, Steve bought pizza for everyone, and you know Bucky loves pizza so much. He’s going to be eating for at least 30 minutes and Sam loves to watch an episode of a sitcom while he eats and that’s also at least maybe 20-30 minutes. They’re not going to interrupt us.”
You hummed and crossed your arms, “You’re sure? 100 percent sure?”
“Yes, please, yes. I’m begging you, baby. I know they aren’t going to be here.” Peter pushed his hands together and got to his knees, in a praying way.
You gaped at him, “Get up, Peter! You don’t have to do that.”
“I do, I really do. I know I’m unworthy of your pussy but please, it’s like nectar to a hummingbird, baby, please.” He explained.
You laughed at him and pulled him up with your arms. “Come here, silly.” You rolled your eyes at him and kissed him.
He moaned out loud at just the simple kiss. Wow, he was touch starved, he needed you so much. He felt his eyes tear up as the kiss got deeper and he felt your hand in his hair, pulling him closer.
So, yeah, he definitely needed this. He hasn’t masturbated or jerked off in any way these past few weeks, because you were always around and always wanted to fuck too. He felt your other hand go under his pants, and he whimpered, needing more.
“Please, please, touch me, please.” He begged you as you pulled away from the kiss. You giggled at him and nodded, dipping your hand underneath his underwear, and cupping his hard on.
“You’re so needy, baby.” You teased him and pecked his lips.
“I am, I know, please, I want more, please. I’m yours, all yours.” He continued.
You started to jerk him off after you pulled his dick out of his pants. He moaned loudly and pulled you into another kiss, muttering against your lips, “Just like that, please, more.”
His hips started to jerk up as you continued to go faster and within two minutes, he was coming hard and fast and all over your hand and his shirt. He was flushed red, and he had these gooey looking happy eyes, and he had the biggest smile on his face.
You were shocked, he’s never come so fast before. “Peter, baby, you came in like two minutes.” You said, lips parting.
“I love you so much.” He panted and dropped his head against your shoulder. You looked down at his cock, realizing it never even went down. You were even more surprised at that and started to jerk him off again and he moaned so loud and prettily.
He moaned your name over and over and he cried into your shoulder, with actual tears. “Please, more, please, I’m begging you. I need more. I want more.” He cried out.
“Wanna fuck me? Huh, Peter? Want my pussy?” You asked him, pulling him by his hair and kissing down his throat.
“Yes, I want to use your pretty pussy, please, let me, please!” He begged even more, and you quickly got yourself ready, pulling your pants down and pushing a finger down to your pussy to check if you were wet enough, and yes, you were very ready.
You leaned against one of the shelves and showed yourself to Peter, ass towards him. He instantly grabbed onto your hips and with one big thrust, he went into your pussy, pounding hard and nonstop.
“Ah! Fuck, yes, right there!” You moaned loudly, pressing your head against a bag of chips. Peter was muttering nonsensically, but you could hear him say “please, please, please, please” over and over again.
“Keep going, you could do it, come on.” You encouraged him, wanting him to fuck you longer.
You weren’t shocked that you could feel him coming again, inside you this time. He continued anyway, fucking through his orgasm and right into another for himself. His hand came around your hip and down to your pussy, rubbing at your clit as he continued to pound into you.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, yes, shit! Yes Peter!” You felt like you were yelling but you couldn’t help yourself. You were finally coming after so long, on his cock. It felt incredible and you loved it so much.
He was still fucking you, and you were a bit shocked. He’s never done something like this before. After coming twice and working himself to another one? He usually stopped at one and rested for a few minutes and then he could go again, up until about four times.
“Need more, need your pussy, need you, baby. I love you so much. I wanna fuck you for so long, need it.” He panted in the crack of your neck and shoulder, groaning loud as he felt himself start to come again.
So much of his cum spasmed into your pussy and you gasped loudly at the feeling of being stuffed so full. It even started to leak out as he continued fucking your pussy, the sensations leading you into another orgasm so quickly.
You cried out his name, feeling like you were going to collapse now.
He still continued. You didn’t want him to stop at all, and it seemed like neither did he. He was on a roll, and he was locked into your pussy like he couldn’t pull himself out and he loved it.
A knock rang loudly on the door to the pantry. Peter slowed himself but didn’t stop fucking you. “What do you want?” He shouted, uncaring about who it was.
“I need to get some chili flakes for the pizza. I’d be happy if you didn’t ejaculate on them.” Bucky’s voice rang out.
You and Peter both groaned and finally he pulled out, anger steamed practically out of his ears. He barely pulled his pants back up and pushed his still hard dick into them before he cracked the door open and stared at Bucky.
“The chili flakes are with the pizzas out in the dining room.” Peter huffed out, face red still. Bucky rolled his eyes at the guy, still acting flustered.
“Yeah? And were you fucking Y/n in there too?” He asked Peter, grinning teasingly.
“…Uh, nope! Not at all. Was just helping her rearrange some stuff in the pantry.” Peter responded, acting awkward now.
This time you rolled your eyes and pulled the door completely open once you were decent enough.
“Bucky. He was rearranging my guts and if you need some chili flakes, I’m going to inject chili oil into your eyes while you’re asleep. Got it? Good, now more out of my way, I’m going to go get some pizza.” You almost growled at him.
Bucky slowly put his hands up and stepped to the side for you to pass him. He raised his eyebrows, “Mm, yeah, I’m not stopping you, go right ahead to the pizza.” He let you pass.
You looked back at Peter and sighed, “Enough of this. Seriously.” You looked so angry and so done about the entire thing.
After you left, Bucky stood there with his arms crossed and Peter just awkwardly excused himself after a minute of Bucky staring at him.
Yeah, Peter needed to fix this or else you’d stop having sex with him altogether.
-
You sat next to your dad as he wrapped an arm around you. You picked up a slice of pizza and started eating it, listening to the conversation in the dining room. Natasha and Clint were arguing about which hot sauce belonged on pizza and Steve was trying to meditate it but ended up groaning at the two of them when they switched to speaking in Russian.
“You good, bug?” Your dad asked you as you took another bite. You nodded silently and finished chewing and swallowed your food.
“Yeah, it’s just I’m really annoyed with this three-month thing. I’m getting tired of the people around me.” You practically glared at Bucky as he walked into the room.
Tony nodded to you, “Yeah, you’re sick of your boyfriend, huh? Let me take him off your hands tomorrow, I’ve got a project I need some assistance on.”
You blinked in surprise, “Oh, yeah, sure thing. He loves working with you in the lab.”
Tony smiled, “Yeah, he’s good with technology. But it sounds like I might need to talk to him about being clingy to you.”
You shook your head, “Oh that’s fine, I had a… few words with him. He should understand now.” You thought back to what you said a few minutes ago to Peter and mentally shrugged. If he doesn’t get Sam and Bucky to stop interrupting you guys, you’re going to deny him any kind of physical touch.
And yes, you were going to be so fucking sexy as you do that to taunt him even more.
“Good, you were always good with your words.” Tony responded to you, and you smiled at him. You were so thankful that your dad never found out about any of this stuff. You were sure he knew that you two were messing around together but you didn’t want to bring that up with him.
“Yeah, she definitely is.” Bucky spoke up, into your conversation.
You glared at him again and he barely even acknowledged you. Your dad though, nodded to Bucky, “Right. If she ever stops with our Avengers stuff, she could become a lawyer.”
“Definitely.” Bucky chuckled and grabbed a slice of pizza.
-
When you knocked on Peter’s door that night, he answered it within a minute. He pulled you into the room with a hug and a smile.
“Hey baby, did you save me a slice of pizza?” He asked and you shook your head.
“No, I’m sorry. Steve made a bet with Bucky about who could eat the most pizza and it all ran out in the end. But… we have to talk.” You worded carefully at the end.
“Talk. Right, yeah, we do need to.” He sighed and sat back on his bed.
“You’ve got to figure this out with Sam and Bucky, and you have to learn how to stop reacting to them so much. That’s why they keep stopping us.” You explained.
Peter started blushing almost on instinct, “But – I don’t know how to do that.”
You sighed, “Baby, you’ve got to learn. I’m sure there’s a bigger picture to this whole thing that we don’t understand right now but try to look at that.”
Peter shrugged, “All I can see is Sam and Bucky finding it hilarious to fuck with us.”
“Well then, once you get them to come and apologize to me and you together at the same time, then we can have sex. Until then, we’re abstaining. I don’t care how long it takes, but you have to do this. You know I have talked to them about it before and they still continue, so you have to try.” You declared.
Peter gaped at you, “But no sex? What?”
“Yeah. Until you do that, I’m going to go buy some new toys. I need to find a toy that pleases me as good as you, please me.” You shrugged at him, feeling a tiny bit bad once his expression drops into something stormy.
“Okay, yeah, I get that.” He sighed deeply.
“I’ll see you later, bye sweetie, love you.” You pressed a long and gentle kiss to his lips and walked away.
-
Two months. Two fucking whole months and Peter and you have not had sex. Each time he’s tried, he couldn’t face them. It was terrible.
But now?
Now, Peter is pretty sure he can face the god of sex and be unphased if he was caught jerking off.
Each step he took was like he was bouncing off of mountains with how pissed he was and how horny he’s been without any relief. Now jerking off has done no good to him. You’ve been teasing him so much too. You’d wear the shortest fucking shirts ever in front of him and anyone around and just prance around like nothing’s wrong.
You’d wear some of his favorite dresses on you, the ones you two only used in private when you guys wanted to roleplay. The sparkly red one, with a low back? Yes. The short sheer black one where he could see your nipples if he stared long enough. Yes.
And you even wore his shirt with nothing else on – yes, nothing at all, all around the compound. He saw you in it, eating ice cream on the couch in the living room, chatting with Natasha, who was beside you. He sat down across from you and spoke with you guys before you slowly spread your legs deliberately and showed him you weren’t wearing any panties.
He excused himself so fast and cried in the shower when he couldn’t come.
So, right now it was about 3 in the morning. He disabled Friday in Sam’s room and Bucky’s room, shut off the power in their rooms as well. He put some special web fluid in his suit and went into Sam’s room first. He had prepared for this for at least two days, pulling information from everywhere he could find.
He broke every single appliance in the room. Then he barricaded the door and the windows. He made sure Sam had no contact with the outside, and he did so all very quietly.
He woke Sam up by pulling the blanket off him.
“Woah, what’s going on? Peter?! What the hell? Friday, turn the lights on!” Sam yelled out. When Friday didn’t do anything, Sam sat up in his bed, staring up at Peter, who was standing on top of the bed frame at the end, staring down at him with a hard expression.
It scared the shit out of Sam. He could barely see anything in the dark, but Peter’s face was something he could focus on, with some of the light coming from beneath his costume.
The usual shinny light in his eyes were gone. His happy-go-lucky expression was wiped away. There was a blank and dark look on the man’s face and it terrified Sam. This was not Peter Parker. This was a monster.
“Peter, come on, you’re scaring me… What’s happening?” Sam stood up, and tried walking to the door, but it was completely blocked. Sam looked over to the other escape routes in his room, which were blocked too, all thanks to Peter.
“You’re going to stop bothering me and Y/n.” Peter spoke up.
“Uh, come on, those are just jokes me and Bucky play.” Sam shrugged, trying to get Peter to calm down.
“How long has it been since you last spoke to your sister?” Peter brought up, voice void of emotion.
“Peter?! How the fuck do you know I have a sister? Did Steve and Bucky tell you?” Sam’s voice got louder.
“She’s sleeping at the moment. I have a camera in her room. She likes wearing that snoopy shirt to sleep, doesn’t she? I can tell. Did you know she leaves her window in the bathroom unlocked? She likes to leave it open when she showers. She uses those lavender bath bombs that CVS sell for $7 but she always gets them with an online coupon.” Peter chuckled.
Sam stayed silent in terror. This was scary, this was becoming his worst nightmare.
“I like to check in on her a lot. She has a kid too, your nephew, yeah? Isn’t it funny his favorite Avenger is me, Spiderman? I sent him a package as a thank you. It means so much to me. Do you remember third grade performance in a reenactment of the New York battle? I certainly do. He played an alien character. Remember what his line was? ‘Don’t kill me, oh mighty avenger!’ I love that line so much. It reminds me of what’s happening here, right? You’re the little bitch standing scared in the corner and I’m about to fuck you up.” Peter continued.
Sam practically curled himself up into a ball in the corner of the room. He stared in horror at Peter, thinking that these past few months haven’t been the smartest thing – with what he’s been doing with Bucky.
“Don’t bother me and Y/n again. I’m not asking. I’m telling you.” Then he raised his arm up and pointed at Sam.
He activated the web shooter and shot the new web fluid at him.
The web fluid was disgusting. Instantly, Sam started gagging and he tried pulling it off but once it stuck onto his skin, it wouldn’t move. The fluid hardened slightly, then started growing and growing and Peter pushed the desk away from the door and walked out.
Sam was left trapped in a corner in the dark, yelling out helplessly for anyone to listen to him. The fluid expanded to the rest of the room, trapping Sam in an uncomfortable spot. It would be hours before someone was alerted of the mess, and it would take another 16 hours to dissolve the web fluid and to get him out of the room.
Sam understands now to never fuck with Peter Parker or you ever again.
-
Peter was going to do something different with Bucky. He’d wake immediately if someone walked into his room, so he had waited outside his door and just breathed a bit heavily, knowing Bucky would eventually wake up and feel uneasy because he sensed someone outside his room.
Peter covered himself in an ooze that Bruce had developed during the quarantine in anger. It was a jelly type consistency that always smeared and spread and caused those that came into contact with it to slip around and feel itchy.
Yes, Peter felt uncomfortable, but he had the solution that undid this mess on him. He’d use it once he was done with Bucky and then go shower.
It only took two minutes for Bucky to open the door, armed and ready for an intruder. Peter flew himself into him and the knife slipped off of his body easily. He wrestled around with Bucky as Bucky started to understand who he was.
“Peter? What on Earth…Get the fuck off me, kid.” Bucky grunted, trying to kick Peter in the gut, but struggled when the goo got on him and started to spread.
Bucky started to itch like crazy, and he let Peter go as he started to itch everywhere. “The fuck did you do, kid?” He questioned, trying to stand up. Peter grasped the side of the wall and activated his suit to stand up.
“You’re going to be left like this for two days. This is my response. You’re not going to bother me and Y/n again.” Peter started off. Bucky just stared at him incredulously.
“You’re hard to intimidate. But I got the information… Did you know your sister donated her eggs? I do. You have some blood relations left in this world. Ouch, does that hurt you to hear? Especially since I can give this information to anyone here. Don’t you think Steve would want to go talk to them? You don’t want that though. You just want to be alone after what happened with your sister. Do you remember where you kept her letter to you? The one that told you she forgave you for leaving back then. I remember the lines, ‘James, dear, I love you and will always have a piece of love for you in my heart throughout the rest of my life. Remember when we’d fight over who got the last of ma’s cookies? Every time I bake her recipe, I think of you.’ Oh, so sad.” Peter voiced out.
Bucky immediately tried getting up to go beat the shit out of Peter, but he couldn’t.
“I have a copy of the letter. Do you want me to show Steve the part where she talked about him? Oh, you don’t? Okay, so don’t fucking mess with me and Y/n again. Or I’m going to release all the information I have on you. It will flood the internet and the streets. This isn’t a question, this is a statement. You can see this as a threat, I see this as a promise. You should know I don’t break my promises so easily. And I’m going to fuck my girlfriend whenever I want, without you interrupting.” Peter finished and smiled at him.
Bucky stopped thrashing around and just stared at Peter.
“You’re learning. Oh, thank fuck, finally. You didn’t have to do all this shit. You just needed to learn how to take things with a straight face and learn how to lie.” Bucky sighed deeply then laughed and shook his head.
“I was going to put word in with Tony to promote you too once you learned. But huh, you’re learning another kind of lesson that I didn’t expect you to ever learn. How to be a badass motherfucker. Wow, this modern world surprises me still.” Bucky chuckled.
Peter stood frozen, “You wanted to promote me?”
“I did.” Bucky noted back.
“…Do you still want to promote me?” Peter nervously asked.
Bucky tilted his head at him and smiled, “Ask me again once I can stand up.”
Peter groaned, “Nope, I know you’re going to punch me. Not falling for that.”
“Hah, looks like you’re learning not to be so gullible too. Good job.” Bucky laughed again and sat in the mess. He just continued to itch himself like crazy.
“I’m leaving now.” Peter said, leaving with a strange feeling in his chest.
He could’ve been promoted. Wow. That’s awesome! But you know what’s even more awesome now, he can finally have sex with you again.
-
“Baby! I did it! I got them to stop bugging us.” Peter spoke up, grabbing your hand to hold it. You smiled back and laughed cheerfully.
“I saw! You did great. Thank you, sweetie. We can do stuff together now.” You pulled him into a hug.
“Want to go try that new simulator together? We can have sex in a meadow! It’s like VR but better.” Peter asked and you nodded happily.
Your eyes widened, “Oh shit, that’s awesome. But what if we could have sex somewhere even more crazy then?”
“Yeah! I love when it’s a crazy spot. Makes me feel a thrill.” Peter exclaimed and you agreed. You two ran to the room, laughing when you saw Sam right behind the wall. He absolutely heard the entire conversation.
“You guys are insane exhibitionists. What the fuck.” Sam muttered.
-
A week later, Sam and Bucky handed each their payment to Steve. Once Steve saw and heard what Peter did to the two of them, he was shocked. Never did he think that Peter was capable of something like that, but Steve understood the feeling that once he was pushed, he’d also do something similar.
“At least he learned something.” Sam brought up.
Bucky shook his head, “Don’t know if it was worth being itchy and slippery for two days. Bruce had to recreate the solution to get it off me since Peter stole all of it and used it on himself.”
“I have trauma now. I don’t think I’ll ever see him as a little puppy anymore.” Sam revealed.
Bucky snorted, “Welcome to the club. Trauma is the only thing I know best.”
Steve shook his head at the two, “Well, I guess you guys have to move onto something else now. We still have about two and a half weeks till we should be safe to go outside again. Want to start a puzzle with me?”
Sam instantly denied him, “Nope, not again. You only buy the super hard puzzles with dull images. It’s sad. Bye.” He walked away.
Steve looked at Bucky with hopeful eyes, “I’m going to go… do something, yeah. Bye Steve.” Bucky spoke up.
Steve sighed at his friends’ actions. At least you and Peter could have fun together again.
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queuestarter · 4 months
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mirrors
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(finnick odair x reader)
cw: mentions of sexual abuse and prostitution, talks of self hatred, ambiguous ending
→ reader comforts finnick when he's having a rough morning
open to submissions/asks !!
You know what kind of day it’s going to be as soon as you wake up.
Finnick’s not in bed anymore, which is unusual for him. He usually likes to stay in bed until well after you both have woken up. He likes to hold you against his chest, likes to whisper in your ear about everything and nothing. He likes knowing you’re there.
So when you wake up during sunrise and don’t see him next to you in bed, you can instantly tell something is wrong. You’re not worried or hesitant, you are more upset than anything.
Both you and Finnick have experienced the Hunger Games, so you’re no stranger to the nightmares that stem from it and bud out into real life. But when Finnick has nightmares, he tends to want to stay in bed rather than leave it, so you know that his terrors must not be what woke him up.
You sigh, getting up from the bed yourself. You smooth out the sheets and the duvet before grabbing your and Finnick’s mugs with old tea dregs in it to deposit in the kitchen sink. A pang of sadness hits you when you don’t spot Finnick at all during that time.
After throwing on one of Finnick’s knit sweaters and making two fresh mugs of tea, you set out to find your boyfriend, once and for all. It doesn’t take much looking- you find him sitting on the back deck overlooking the water.
“Finnick,” you say quietly so as not to startle him. “I brought you some tea.”
He doesn’t turn to look at you but by the way he flinches you know he heard you. You frown at his subtle action. 
“Go back inside. It’s too cold out here for you,” he eventually says after a long moment of silence. “I’ll be in soon.”
You don’t listen, instead choosing to sit on the step directly next to him, placing his mug on the table in front of you. “The tea will warm us both up.”
He finally turns his head to look at you. You try not to stare at the sight of the bags under his eyes or the way his frown has left a crease on his cheek. 
“What are you even doing here?” He asks, catching you off guard.
You don’t let the question faze you for too long before you respond easily, trying not to set him off. “I wanted to see you.”
He shakes his head before returning his gaze back to the water. “Not here, here. What are you doing with me?”
This question does cause you to raise your eyebrows. You set your mug of tea down next to his. “I’m here because I love you. You are the most perfect man in the world to me.”
You catch the way his face seems to melt at your words, how tears immediately come pouring from his eyes. Despite how hard it is, you don’t comfort him in fear of making his breakdown worse.
“I’m not. There’s nothing perfect about me. I’m dirty and used up.” He buries his face into his hands.
You’re speechless. You and Finnick have been together for a long time, and while he’s had moments where he feels like he’s not enough or that what the Capitol put him through made him less than, he’s never said anything like this. After a moment of processing his words, you try to soothe him by rubbing a hand up and down his back.
“Everything about you is perfect to me, Finn. And you are not dirty,” you say vehemently. “What they’re putting you through has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.”
With his face still buried, Finnick cries out, “then why am I like this? Why can’t I live with it?”
You grimace. Every word he says resonates with you. While you were never sought after in the Capitol after your games in the same way Finnick is, you’ve seen the aftermath of the attention. You can’t do anything to change the past or what’s to come, but you can try to make things more bearable for him.
Afterall, he’s done so much for you.
“Can you tell me what happened, honey?” You dare to ask, hoping he’ll let you in.
He lifts his head up and turns back to face you. Your heart breaks at the sight of his watery eyes and red cheeks. “I just… looked in the mirror and hated what I saw. I hate my face for what it’s caused me.”
At this point you can’t help your own tears. “Finn,” you whisper. “There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with your face, or your personality, or anything about you. Those people are the ones that are wrong. The people in the Capitol who are too evil to see the hurt that they’re causing.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
Not knowing what else to do, you wrap your arm around his shoulder and hold him until he tells you to stop. And when he does want to get up and go inside, you still say nothing as you make oatmeal for the two of you.
There’s nothing you can do or say to stop his torment. All you can do is promise to always be by his side.
-
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lemonlover1110 · 6 months
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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝
Toji Fushiguro
[Chapter 7] First Ultrasound
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
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On what you’re assuming is the start of the third month of your pregnancy, you finally manage to make an appointment for your first ultrasound. You debate if you want to tell Toji or not. Would he want to come? You’re not too sure if you’re being honest. He’s told you that he wants to be the best possible father for your child, but you don’t trust him. Given his track record, you can’t exactly trust him.
“I’m just here to drop off your money.” Toji can easily transfer money through the bank monthly, but he chooses to give it to you. Every two weeks he’s at your door with your money. You agreed to quit your second job and take his money; you still have your second job, but the nights that you know he’s coming, you take off. Toji invites himself in even if he’s just handing you an envelope. He never comes just to give you that.
“How’s work?” You ask, closing the door when he enters your apartment. You find it ironic that you talk more now than when you were married. He actually engages in conversation now, and he tries to talk to you as well, asking how you’re doing.
“Exhausting.” He answers. You can tell that he’s been working more lately, or at the very least he’s not getting proper sleep. There’s visible bags under his eyes, and he’s slowly letting himself go, at least he doesn’t give the proper care since he has a bit of a stubble; he’s also due for a haircut. “How about you? How are you holding up?”
“I’m doing okay… I’ve been dealing with a bit of morning sickness but nothing crazy.” You answer. You leave out any other of your symptoms. How your breasts are sore, you’re extremely tired (which can also be alluded back to your second job), how you’ve suddenly been having the weirdest cravings. Sure, you’re talking, but you don’t want him to know more than necessary. You try to change the topic since you don’t like having the spotlight on you, “How’s Megumi doing?”
“He’s doing fine… He has a baseball game next Thursday, if you want to come.” He informs you and you take a note of it. You’ll try to go since you have a soft spot for Megumi, but you’re not certain that you’ll make it. 
“I’ll try. Hope I’m doing better then.” You respond. He slowly nods in response, and he tries to think of something to talk about, but nothing comes to mind so he begins to walk to the door. He won’t try to waste both of your time. Before his hand wraps around the doorknob, you speak up,
“Toji…” He completely stops. Not a single breath comes from him until you speak again, “I know that you’re busy so, I’m just inviting you to be courteous… I have my first ultrasound tomorrow, if you want to join me.”
“What time?” He asks, and you tell him. At noon. He nods, and tells you, “I’ll come pick you up.”
He stands still for a moment, wondering what to do next. Wondering if you’re going to do something else. You stand in completely awkward silence for a minute before Toji realizes that nothing else will happen, so he walks out. He doesn’t say goodbye, although you don’t mind it because he never does.
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Toji hasn’t been a man that’s usually punctual, so you’re surprised when he’s early. You might’ve told him that the appointment was earlier than it actually is so you wouldn’t be late, but there’s not much you can do when he’s right in front of you, thirty minutes before your appointment. The place isn’t even a twenty minute drive.
“Hi.” You awkwardly smile at him. You notice how he’s finally shaved the stubble, and you’re curious if he did so last night or this morning. “So… I might’ve– The appointment was pushed back to twelve thirty.”
“Oh– Okay.” He answers. You almost tell him the truth, but it might incite an argument so it’s best if you ignore it and tell a little white lie. He won’t question much, he never does, so you’re safe. “Did you eat something already? Do you want to grab something to eat?”
“I don’t have much of an appetite.” You respond, and he nods his head. He isn’t going to argue with you that you should eat something regardless, you’re pregnant and you have to keep yourself healthy for the baby– He isn’t your father nor your husband, you’re old enough to make your own decisions. And while Toji wishes he could say he was worried about this pregnancy, he simply isn’t. As fucked up it is to even think about it, he’s more worried about you than the child you carry.
“What do you want to do then? Do you just want to head out and wait?” He asks, and you nod your head in response, if you get lucky, your appointment will start earlier. You disappear out of his sight for a moment to grab your purse, but you’re back quickly. You exit the apartment and you begin to walk to his car. 
The car ride is silent, you don’t have much to talk about. You don’t sense him being as excited… Or excited at all about this so you’re quiet. You don’t pay him any mind. You’re over the moon at the thought of looking at your baby for the first time. You’re in disbelief that you’re about to become a mother. Finally.
You get to the place and check in. Waiting feels interminable as you sit next to Toji. He simply looks around, while you begin to play a game on your phone. Toji finds himself bored, and since he doesn’t have anything interesting to do, he chooses to try and talk to you. He clears his throat, and speaks up, “So how far along are you anyway?”
“Hm… I think, maybe three months along? I do have a bit of a bump.” You share, and Toji’s brows raise, he looks over at you, but your shirt is baggy which doesn’t let him really figure anything out. His eyes keep staring, and he finds himself frustrated at the fact he doesn’t know. If you lived with him he’d see your body better, and he’d notice every small change. At least that’s what he thinks. 
Your name is called and you stand up, following the woman to the ultrasound room. Toji follows behind, walking much slower, trying to see if he does notice a bit of a bump. The previous night you were wearing a tank top– He didn’t notice anything then. He isn’t all too observant anyway so maybe he missed it.
Toji watches as you lay down, and you begin to talk to the technician. He doesn’t pay much attention to what’s going on between you two. Until you finally lift up your shirt, and he does see a bit of a bump. It’s nothing that’s really noticeable but it’s there when you lift up your shirt, it’s definitely something he would’ve noticed if you lived together. 
You squeal as the cold gel is poured on your abdomen, and the transducer is then pressed on your skin. Your eyes then fall on the monitor, and an immediate smile comes to your lips. A little kidney bean. Your eyes well up with tears as the technician points out their little head.
“It’s just one baby, right?” Toji asks, and the technician assures him that it’s just one baby. It makes him breathe a sigh of relief. He notices you stick out your bottom lip, and he rolls his eyes. You seriously didn’t want twins, did you?
You look over at Toji, trying to see if there’s a bit of excitement behind his eyes when he looks at the ultrasound, and while it’s not clearly written on his face, you see a spark in his eyes as he looks at the monitor. He perks up when he hears the sound of the baby’s heartbeats. It’s in that moment that Toji realizes just how big this is–
He’s a father, he knows the birth of a baby is a big deal. Toji would give up his life for Megumi. But your pregnancy… The beginning of it didn’t excite him the way that his first wife’s did. Maybe it’s because he was set on not being a father again, or maybe it’s because you’re separated. Perhaps it’s because even though he wanted to use your pregnancy as a means for you to stay, you still left. He’s just focused on you and your relationship, not the fact that he’s actually becoming a father again. Doing it all over again.
He isn’t sure if he’s ready to do it all over again; but he feels the excitement slowly grow by looking at his baby and listening to their heartbeat. It’s nothing too crazy though.
When the technician finishes up, you’re handed a napkin to wipe off the gel. You do so, and you’re told to wait for the doctor. You’re smiling foolishly, thinking that you’re becoming a mother even though you had given up on that dream a while ago. Given that dream up for the man that’s waiting next to you.
“You seem really excited.” Toji comments when you’re left alone. He watches your hand go to your lower abdomen as you look up at him.
“I am. I can’t wait to meet my baby.” You answer. Toji chuckles, your excitement radiating and infectious. “Do you want a baby boy or a girl?”
“Hmm… A baby boy since I already know how to deal with boys. I have no idea how I’d raise a girl.” He responds. “How about you? Do you want a girl or a boy?”
“I don’t have a preference, I just want a healthy baby. Boy or girl.” You reply, and Toji wonders if that’s how he should’ve responded. Would that have gotten him positive points with you? Did his response fuck everything up a little more?
The doctor walks in, and she tells you what you want to hear. The baby is healthy, and growing the way they should be. You’re around fourteen weeks along– Which means you’ll be due around December, and that you’re further along than what you assumed. Your baby wasn’t conceived the night that you told Toji you’d be leaving him.
You get your ultrasound pictures, and Toji takes two, even though he tries to act like he isn’t excited.
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strang3lov3 · 11 months
Text
Everyday I'm Shufflin'
Joel Miller x Fem Reader
Summary: Joel is shocked, horrified, disgusted, and absolutely appalled to learn you, an adult, cannot shuffle a deck of cards. He makes it his mission to teach you in a rather unconventional way 😈🔥😍 
Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smutttt, kind of soft dom! Joel (y’all know the fuckin drill, but this is like the softest soft dom), oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, undefined age gap, unprotected PIV sex, Joel is a sweetie honestly, loosely proofread bc I was so excited to get it out to you guys.
Word Count: 6k (oops)
A/N: Dumb title I know…but listen. I know I’m touching on this particular theme/idea of card shuffling in my story Sweetest Perfection (which I’m unsure of when I will finish lol) but omg ladies…I was playing Gin Rummy with my man a few nights ago and he tried to teach me how to shuffle a deck of cards. I have never been so turned on watching him do something so simple. His hands were so skillful, his voice was so smooth and comforting. So thank you J ❤️ I love you!! (If he ever finds my writing I will drive off a fucking cliff) 
if you enjoy this story, please leave me a comment! I am super proud of this story!
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How you learned to shuffle a deck of cards was rather…unorthodox. To say the least. 
It started with a game of Gin Rummy. 
Joel read once long ago that when shuffling a deck of cards, it is statistically more than likely that the particular order of shuffled cards never existed before and will never exist again. 
Joel had played enough games of Solitaire by himself and shuffled enough cards over the past twenty-odd years that he was sure he beat that statistic. What else is there to do when you’re bored as shit in the apocalypse?
It was safe to say Joel was more than sick of Solitaire. So one morning at breakfast, he invited you to join him for a few games of cards. Nothin’ fancy, he said. 
You said yes, of course. Joel Miller was distant, reserved. Standoffish, even. But he seemed to have a soft spot for you.
He noticed you sitting alone at dinner about a year and a half ago. He was alone too, Ellie usually ate with Dina. She was too cool for him, he guessed. You looked quite a few years younger than him and looked bored and lonely, nudging and poking at the food on your plate. It made him feel sad. 
The next day, you were alone again. And the day after. And the day after that. On day five when he found you sitting alone, he decided to make his move. Instead of going to his usual spot at the end of the banquet tables, he sat across from you. 
You looked at him with your eyebrows raised in confusion. “Can I help you?”
He didn’t think it through. He had no idea what to say, no idea how to make conversation. How to explain why he was sitting there.  “I just, uh. My juvenile delinquent ditched me. Just wanted some company. I’m sorry, this was dumb,” his voice was gruff and low as he reached for his plate and began to stand up. “I’ll leave ya alone.”
“No, no. Stay,” you corrected yourself. “I didn’t mean to come off rude or anything, you just surprised me. Joel, right? Tommy’s brother?”
He nodded yes. You gave him your name and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Joel,”
“You as well, darlin’,” he took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake. His hand was warm and calloused.
And that’s how it started. You hit it off completely. Conversation was slow and awkward at first, but eventually it began to flow naturally. Joel was older, but the type of person you could talk to for hours. Like when you talk about your favorite food or movie and hours later you’re laughing about something random and obscure, and you wonder to yourself how you even ended up on that subject. You met for breakfast and dinner every day. 
“So I’ve got a proposal for you, darlin’,” he said, taking a bite of his buttered toast. 
“Pray tell, Mr. Miller!” you requested, a curious tone in your voice. 
“I’m sick of solitaire. Been playin’ it every damn day for too long now. Come over for cards tonight?”
You paused, pressing your lips in a thin line. Card games weren’t really your thing. You remember Tommy and Maria and how they tried to teach you euchre a while back. It didn’t end well, you left with a migraine and no understanding of how to play euchre. But there were a few games you enjoyed. “Depends. It’s not euchre, is it?”
“Nope. That’s four players, sweetheart,” he informed. 
“Poker? Because I don’t know that one either,”
Joel rolled his eyes. He’d have to teach you that one sometime. “No, not poker,” he chuckled when you let out a sigh of relief. “Tell you what, we’ll do any game you want. I’m just sick of playin’ with myself,'' Joel balked, then winced at his poor word choice. He absolutely did not mean to say that. 
Your eyes widened in amusement at his silly word mishap. Now that must be a sight for sore eyes, Joel playing with himself. You tried to push the image out of your mind, but it was nearly impossible. You spent many nights with your hand between your thighs, picturing Joel naked and moaning on top of you. Or under you. Or behind you. Sometimes all three. The truth was, you needed Joel badly. Like, desperately. “Tired of playing with yourself, huh?” you teased with a smile and a playful glint in your eyes.
Joel pouted, the slightest tint of rosiness blooming on his cheeks. You idiot, he scolded himself silently. “Shut up, smartass. Are you comin’ over or not?”
“Duh. Ellie gonna be there?” 
“Probably not. It’ll be just us, most likely. Is that alright?”
“Yeah, of course,” you smiled. Finally, real alone time with Joel. Maybe tonight you could make your move. You hoped that Joel thought about you too. You caught his lingering stares, picked up on his cautious flirting. He could be so sweet and so charming, it had to be because he liked you too, right? But he was from Texas, so maybe it was just his southern gentlemanliness. Either way, it was worth a shot. 
“Let’s meet here for dinner like usual, and then we can go over to my place. That work?”
You smiled and nodded, trying to keep cool. Excitement was bubbling in the pit of your stomach. 
“Then it’s a date,” 
A date!!
After breakfast, you went home and spent most of the day picking out a cute outfit for the evening. You went through nearly every piece of clothing in your possession, eventually settling for your favorite pair of jeans, a tank top, and a zip up hoodie. Casual.
Dinner came and went as normal. Joel was dressed as his usual self. A dark red flannel and some jeans that hugged his ass a little too nicely. You shared a good conversation, and when you finished eating, Joel took your dishes away and then met you at the door. 
You walked side by side until you got to his home. It was cozy and inviting, Ellie’s drawings displayed prominently on the walls. Little tchotchkes and knick knacks here and there. A few old pictures, old books and magazines. His weathered deck of Bicycle playing cards sat in the middle of the dining room table. 
Joel pulled out a seat for you and brought you a glass of water. He sat right next to you on the other side of the table. “So,” he started, reaching for the deck. He split the cards in two, braced his fingers along their sides and ran his thumbs from bottom to top. The cards fell in a swift and staggering motion. Effortlessly, he brought the cards up and bent them into an arch, letting them fall. “What card game we playin?”
“I was thinking we could play Gin Rummy?” you asked sweetly.
“Good choice,” he replied. He had some other games in mind, but couldn’t say no to your request. Joel dealt the cards expertly, quickly placing ten cards each in front of yourselves. The thwap thwap thwap of the cards hitting the table was such a pleasant noise. You loved how skillfully he moved his hands. 
You brought your cards to yourself, doing your best to sort them into different groups. Unfortunately, Joel gave you the shittiest hand he possibly could have. This would be a swift game, you assumed. Joel snickered when he sorted his cards. By the looks of it, he already had the beginnings of a few good sets and melds. “Gonna kick your ass, darlin’,”
You grumbled in response. Joel flipped the first card up, motioning for you to make your choice. You couldn’t do much with it, so you passed. Joel took it, then discarded one of his own. You were right. The game went by quickly. Within minutes of playing, Joel showed you his hand. He had, in fact, kicked your ass. He was smiling and giggling and bragging, almost how a child would. You loved the way his eyes sparkled and the crinkles that framed them just so. He was too handsome for his own good.
He took your cards and placed them neatly in with the rest of the deck, then placed the deck in front of you. “Your turn to deal. We’re playin’ again,”
“Good. It’s about time I deal. You gave me the crappiest hand you possibly could’ve!” you laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. I purposely gave you a shitty hand because I need to rig the game in order to win. Or maybe I’m just better than you,” he taunted with a smile. He could be such a sarcastic prick at times. You rolled your eyes in response and Joel pointed to the cards. “Deal for me now, sweetheart.” 
This is when all hell broke loose. 
You took the cards in your hand, doing an awkward shuffle. Moving some cards sporadically here and there and mixing them on the table. It wasn’t the prettiest way to shuffle cards, but it worked. Right?
No, not right. Not according to Joel. 
His jaw dropped, eyes squinted and his brow furrowed. He is completely and utterly appalled. Disgusted. Horrified. Offended. “What the fuck is the matter with you? What are you doing to my cards?!”
You stopped your actions. “What?” you asked worriedly.
“My cards! That’s how you’re shufflin’ them? Is this some kind of joke?” his southern accent intensified with his anger.
You looked down at his cards. None were bent or damaged in any way. “Joel, it’s fine,” you chided. “You’re so dramatic.”
“No, it is not fine. You mean to tell me this is how you shuffle cards?”
“Yeah, so?” Joel scoffed. “Unacceptable,” he takes the cards from you, huffing and puffing as he sorts them into a neat stack. “You’re an adult. Do it the right way.”
You give it your best shot. Trying to picture the way he shuffled, you mimic his finger placement and drop the cards, sliding your thumbs along the top edges. They don’t stagger nicely, however. They kind of plop on top of each other in groups. 
Joel sighs in disappointment. He takes them from you in a sharp motion. “Give me those,” he grumbles. “You don’t know how to shuffle?” You shake your head no. “Gonna teach you, then.”
He splits the deck in two, then faces the cards so they’re mirroring each other, just like before. “Like this, darlin’,” he starts. “You place your pinkie, middle, and ring fingers at the far end. Pointer is bent at the knuckle on top, thumbs at the close end,” He shows you his hand placement, turning the cards so you can see all angles. “See?”
Joel is rambling about hand placement and how to move your thumbs. But you can’t help it. You’re practically salivating watching him move his fingers so skillfully. As he’s explaining how to slide your thumbs slowly up the cards, you’re picturing his thumb on your hot center, slowly sliding up your folds. 
“You try now,” he sets the deck down in front of you. 
Shit. You can’t remember a thing about what he told you. He helps you move your fingers properly and you freeze, your brain is short circuiting. His fingers are pure electricity on top of yours. 
You take a breath and try again. Somehow, it’s worse than before. 
“No, like this,” Joel takes the cards and begins rambling about the cards again. Now you’re watching his middle three fingers, wondering how they would feel inside you. How would they stretch you, how would they move? He’s so fucking good at this. It turns you on. 
Joel says something, but you don’t answer. He looks at you, noticing your glazed eyes. You’re on another planet. “Are you even listening to me?” “What?” he breaks your trance. You meet his eyes, his eyebrows are raised and he looks rather irritated with you. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” you smile sheepishly.
“What’d I say?”
“You said,” you begin, trailing off when you can’t think of a good lie. He caught you, you weren’t listening at all. You couldn’t repeat a single one of his instructions.
“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Joel’s words are bitter and he feels upset. He thought this would be a nice way to spend some alone time with you, and you couldn’t give less of a shit about tonight. It’s jarring, he didn’t expect this from you and it stings him. 
“No! Of course not, Joel. I’m sorry,” Oops. Probably shouldn’t have been fantasizing about what his fingers could do to you. Rookie mistake, that’s the first rule of learning to shuffle a deck of cards! Never fantasize about your teacher’s fingers! 
“Then what is it?”
You hem and haw, rattling off whatever you can think of to answer him. He’s not satisfied and you can see it. His brow is flat and he wears a frown of disappointment.  
“Quit lyin’. If you’re bored, just say so. Won’t hurt my feelings,” Lies. Joel’s heart is crumbling at the thought of you being bored of game night. He’d actually been planning on inviting you for a while, and finally gathered the courage today. 
 “I’m having fun with you,” you stammer for a second, “I promise.”
“Yeah. Seems like it,”
You groan and bury your head in your hands. There’s no way out of this. You have to tell him what’s really going on. “Fine, Joel. You want the truth?”
“Yes, I do. Enlighten me,” he deadpans. 
“Fine,” you inhale and close your eyes, mentally preparing for the humiliation you’re about to inflict upon yourself. “Your fingers. Your hands. The way you move, the way you’re so good at this. It’s sexy, okay? I can’t fucking focus.”
Joel’s in disbelief that he heard you correctly. When the words finally register, a smirk curls up on his lips. He feels a little guilty for accusing you of not caring. But then again, he never would have thought shuffling cards would be a turn on for a woman. Poor thing, he thinks. You’re not bored, you’re just hot and bothered. It’s no wonder you can’t focus. “You think I’m sexy?”
You stare at the cards, avoiding his stare. God, this is embarrassing. “Yeah, of course,”
“Of course, huh?” he taunts you with a shit eating grin. “My fingers are gettin’ you all worked up, is that right?”
You finally build the courage to look up. There’s no animosity or malice in his gaze, just amusement. Your confidence is beginning to return. “That’s right,” you reply with a whisper. 
“Wow. My fingers gettin’ you all hot and bothered and I’ve never even touched you,” he teases. “That’s what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours? You’re thinkin’ about me touchin’ you?”
You nod. “How could I not? I always do,”
“Oh darlin’, how you flatter me,” He pauses, thinking. Joel gets a twisted idea then, and places the cards in front of you. “Tell you what, sweet thing. You shuffle those cards real nice for me, I’ll use my fingers on you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes Joel, please,” you rasp out. You took the scenic route to get there, but the night is finally headed in the direction you had hoped for. 
Joel makes it look so easy. Just focus a little harder, and you’ll do it. You split the deck in two, mirror the cards, place your fingers properly, and–
Plop plop. Plop. 
The deck splits in large chunks with a few single cards falling near the end. You exhale in frustration.
“Come on now, sweetheart. You want me to touch you, right?” Joel’s wearing a twisted smirk, so smug and cocky. “What’re you screwin’ around for?”
Joel loves teasing his partners, he loves building up tension so palpable that it could be sliced with a knife. 
You glare at him. You’ll show him. It can’t be that fucking hard to shuffle a damn deck of cards. You repeat the shuffling motion, failing again.
You grunt at the deck of cards, wishing you could make them burst into flames. You try again, and fail. Yet again. 
You try again. Fail.
And again. Fail.
And again. Fail. 
Focusing is becoming increasingly difficult with the throbbing growing stronger at the apex of your thighs. 
You huff indignantly, slamming the cards on the table. “Fuck this,”
“Hey, now. If you’d’ve just listened to me you’d get it right by now,” Joel steps out of his chair and hovers behind you, then motions for you to begin again. He places his hands over yours, separating them a little. “Hands are too close together, darlin’. That’s why the cards aren’t falling right. Now try.”
You steady your breath, focusing on the cards. You slide your thumbs up the edges slowly and watch the cards stagger perfectly. The pitter patter of each card hitting the other is the most beautiful and relieving sound you’ve ever heard. You gasp, amazed that you finally did it. 
Joel opens his mouth to praise you, but you interrupt him by practically leaping out of your chair and into his arms. Without thinking, you grab his face and press your lips to his, kissing him hard and fast. Your lips slide sloppily against his and your teeth click together every so often. 
Your hands leave his face and furiously unbutton your jeans and you grab his hand, shoving it down the front of your pants. You moan when his fingers reach your center. 
Joel’s instinct is to tease you some more, but you’ve done that to yourself enough already. It’s evident by the river flowing between your thighs. You gasp when drags his middle and ring fingers up and down your seam. 
“You poor thing,” he whispers into your lips. “Fuckin’ needed this, hm?”
You don’t answer him, you can’t. You just whimper into his mouth. His strong nose presses against your cheek and his lips are soft against yours. His calloused fingers paint steady circles against your clit and his other arm is around your waist, holding you tightly against him. He can feel your knees beginning to buckle and he relishes in the way you’re unraveling, just for him. 
He parts from you and removes his hand from your pussy. You let out a cry of frustration at the loss. “I know, darlin’,” he sympathizes.
 He sits on his chair and pulls you close to him by your hips, then tugs your jeans down your thighs. He motions for you to take them off the rest of the way and then guides you to sit in his lap, your back flush against his chest. He pushes his hand down the front of your panties and returns it to your pussy, circling your clit once more before pushing two fingers inside your wet heat, curling upwards and hitting the spot that makes your thighs tremble. His hot breath tickles your ear and sends a shiver down your spine. “Did so good, baby. So good for me,” 
A strangled moan gets caught in your throat. His fingers feel incredible, stretching you out and pressing into you. 
He loves the wet squelching sound of your pussy, he loves the way your head is resting on his shoulder, your lips pressing into his neck as you whimper sweet nothings into his skin. His other arm is wrapped tight around your body and he squeezes your breasts in his big hand, pinching and twisting your pebbled nipples. “God, you don’t take much at all do you? So sensitive, just for me,”
His cock is hard beneath you, poking through his jeans and into your back. He desperately wants to be touched, wants to take this further and fuck you hard and deep. But not yet. 
“Joel, I want more now,” you whine, feeling heat deep in the pit of your stomach. 
“You want to come now, sweetheart? Come all over my fingers?” he nudges your thighs farther apart and you open up deeper for him. He removes his hand from your breasts and trails it down your body, beginning gentle circles on your clit while the fingers on his other hand continue curling into you. 
“Please,” you cry. You’re so noisy, he’s thankful you’re screaming into his bad ear. 
“‘Course, baby. You can let go. It’s okay,” he coos. If only you could see his devilish smirk and know what twisted idea he’s conjuring up in his head. 
With his permission, you let yourself go. Your face and chest flush and your muscles squeeze around his fingers erratically. “Fuck, fuck, Joel,” you moan.  Joel continues his work on your pussy as you ride out your high. It’s a delicate orgasm, soft and gentle. It feels wonderful, but you need more. 
With shallow breaths, you compose yourself and turn to face him. You press kisses to his lips and his jaw and down his throat. Then, on your knees, you reach for his belt buckle. 
“What d'ya think you’re doin’, sweetheart?” he questioned you, his voice taunting and playful. He grabs your hands and holds them tightly to stop you. 
“What do you mean? I’m going down on you,” you reply, baffled by his question. “Then we’re gonna fuck.”
“Ah, ah,” he tuts. “No we’re not.”
“We’re not?”
“No. I never said I’d fuck you. I told you I’d use my fingers on you,” Of course, he knew you thought this would go farther. But Joel revels in teasing a woman, making her beg and cry for him before finally giving in. 
You scoff in disdain. “But I wanted more,” you complain. 
“I know you did, baby. If you want my cock, you have to work for it. You didn’t shuffle the cards right,” he tells you plainly, as if it was so obvious. “Shuffle the cards right and I’ll fuck you.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Yes, I did. You watched me,”
“I did watch you, and you didn’t do it right. Have to finish with the bridge fall, sweetheart. Or else you’ll bend my cards and I’ll be real upset with you,” he explains, feigning sympathy for you. “I’d have to punish you. And you really don’t want that, baby. So why don’t you be a good girl now, shuffle those cards the right way so I can fuck you real nice, just how you wanted.” his voice is dark and low and serious, you love the gravelly rumble coming from deep in his chest. “Do that for me?”
You love the threat. One day you’ll have to bend his cards, just to see what he’d do to you. But you have bigger concerns at the present moment. 
You take a step back to your seat and sit, the cold wood of your chair is refreshing on the hot and sweaty skin of your thighs. You grab the deck, separate it, and take a deep breath in and let it out. You move your hands apart just a touch, just as Joel instructed earlier. And you let the cards fall into place. 
With your hands now holding the shuffled cards, you try your best to maneuver them into falling into place. It doesn’t go as planned, the cards flop backwards and scatter all over the table. 
Joel bites back a smile, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Havin’ trouble?”
“No. I can do it,” 
You try again. Split the deck, run your thumbs up the edge of the cards and–
The cards fall in chunky groups, not quite the elegant shuffle Joel was looking for. Oops. Fucked that one up. Not to worry, you’ll just try again. 
This time you shuffle correctly, attempt the bridge fall once more and fail. Again. You hear the clink of Joel’s belt buckle fall and watch him unzip his pants and pull out his cock. It’s hard and the tip is blushed as he begins to stroke himself. “Better get it together, darlin’. I’m gettin’ tired of waiting on you,” 
You glare at him silently. 
You steady yourself and try again. And fail. Fucking again. Joel lets out a low whistle and spits into his hand, then brings it to his cock again. His fist is moving up and down his shaft and he shrugs at you, as if to say ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t help it’. This is a delightfully unique change of pace, he thinks. He’s not doing a thing to work you up, your pleasure and release is all dependent on yourself alone.
Alright. Once more, this time with feeling. 
Fail.
You try and try and try again, failing each time. Your fingers are exhausted and your palms are sweaty, causing you to slip up. And Joel’s sitting there, playing with his cock and not saying a thing. You’re so beyond irritated, completely tired of this torturous bullshit. Tears of frustration well in your eyes and spill out and down your cheeks. This is fucking agonizing. You ignore your tears, hoping that if you don’t acknowledge them Joel won’t either. You try again. Nothing. You let out a cry in dissatisfaction.
“I know, baby. You’re tryin’ so hard,” Joel whispered earnestly. You just let out a dry laugh. “You are,” he continued. “Take a deep breath, focus for me. You got it.”
You shuffle the cards, set up the arch. “Easy, now. Lift up one thumb, let the cards fall. You can do it, baby,”
You do as you’re told, lifting up your left thumb slowly. You can’t believe your eyes as you watch the spill neatly into each other. Fucking finally.
You drop the cards and let them scatter slightly on the table. In a rush, you leap to Joel and drop to your knees, not even caring about the way the hard floor makes your knees ache. You swat his hand away from his cock and part your lips over the tip, feeling him slide past your tongue and down your throat. 
In your fantasies, you’d tease him with your tongue a little. Make him want you, need you. But not here, not now. You’re hungry for his cock and want to waste no time with him. You savor the way his cock feels so smooth and soft in your mouth, the slightly salty flavor of his skin. It’s all so…Joel. 
Even Joel was surprised by how eager you were. He gasped when you took him into his mouth, but quickly relaxed as you began your pace. You gripped his denim clad thigh in one hand and brought the other to the base of his length, twisting and pumping it as you bobbed your head. You hummed and moaned against him. 
“Wow, darlin’. Someone’s excited,” he mumbles. 
You look at him with big doe eyes and offer a wink in response. Joel lets you continue for a while more. He loves how enthusiastic you are, sucking and stroking him like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. It brings him close to the edge. 
He taps your cheek a couple times, encouraging you to hop off of him. Your lips are puffy and red, spit dribbling down your chin. He grabs you by your arms and shoves you against the table, then pushes the cards out of the way. You watch and giggle as they clatter on the ground in a big mess. He was so protective of those same cards before, so offended at how you touched them. Now they sat in disarray on the ground. “Your cards,” you breathed with concern. 
“Don’t care,” he mumbled, pulling your panties down your thighs and pushing your back onto the table. He knelt before you and draped your legs over his shoulders, loving the way they weighed him down. “Let me taste you, please,” he rasped out. You nodded hurriedly. Joel wasted no time, hungrily licking and kissing your folds. He lapped at you, pressed his tongue flat against your center and dragged it over your sensitive skin. He loved how you tasted, how you made a mess of his mustache and his beard. He pointed his tongue and flicked at your clit as he brought two fingers to your core, scissoring and twisting and stretching you out. 
It felt amazing, so intense and pleasurable. But you had been waiting so long for his cock already and it’s all you could think about. You pushed Joel away from your body and tore off the rest of your clothes as he followed suit. He looked gorgeous, tan skin and oh so smooth. He wasn’t very hairy, you noticed. Just a tuft of coarse hair at the base of his cock and a little happy trail leading down to it. His muscles were soft and lightly defined, you loved the little swell of his tummy. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered. “Need you to fuck me now.”
Joel cocked his head slightly at your compliment. No one had ever called him beautiful before. You were such a genuinely lovely person. He smiled sweetly at you before kissing you, closing the gap between your nude bodies. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby. Wish I told you earlier,” he purred. “I’ll fuck you now. You did so good, baby. So proud of you.”
With that, Joel lined his hard cock up to your soaked entrance and pushed inside. Slowly, being sure not to go too hard or too fast. He watched your face, the way your eyes fell shut and your mouth dropped open. He stopped once he was about halfway inside of you. “How am I doin’, darlin’?”
“Please fuck me,” you begged. You appreciated his gentle care, how he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You’d expect nothing less than the illustrious southern gentleman. But you’ve been waiting long enough with the prospect of being fucked by Joel Miller. Fuck sweet lovings, you needed to be fucked. To be used, like a toy. “Now.” you demanded.
It’s all the permission Joel needed. He slammed his hips into yours and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, gripping his tight muscles. Your hands wandered down his back and settled on his ass. You squeezed the soft flesh beneath your fingers and let out moan after moan. 
Joel loved how vocal you were. Telling him what you needed, how you needed it. He loved the pretty noises you made, all for him. No one else. Not anymore, at least. You were his now and would be forever. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you panted between breaths. “Feels so good.” Joel’s head dipped down to your chest and he kissed and nipped at the soft skin of your breasts, tonguing your nipples and loving how you shuddered at his touch. “Good, baby,” he said. “You deserve it.”
You did deserve it, after all. He made you work like a fucking dog for it. 
Joel fucked you at a steady pace, comfortable for both of you. He asked you what felt good, what you needed. How he could make it better. “Tell me what I can do, sweetheart,”
There were no improvements to be made. Everything about Joel was second to none, his cock, the way he moved, the way he held you. He fucked you perfectly, just how you needed. “Nothing, just,” you squinted your eyes shut and searched your brain for words, finding it difficult to piece any together. “Just keep fucking me like this. Maybe a little harder, please.”
Joel was a provider. A lady as beautiful as yourself, asking for more? It’d be a sin to deprive you of what you needed. So Joel obliged, picking up the pace and hitting you deeper. “Just like that, Jesus, fuck. Just like that, baby.”
Baby. Joel loved that term of endearment. He wasn’t used to being called any sweet nicknames, usually he was the one who’d dole them out. Not just to anyone, only to those closest to himself. It’s why he called you ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ so often. 
He liked being the object of your affection. “Keep callin’ me that, please,” he requested, his voice shy and low. He was so tough and domineering just moments ago, and now he was bashful and vulnerable, all because of one little word. Baby. 
“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Wanted this for so long,” you whimpered, holding onto him tightly. You’d abandon his name completely and call him ‘baby’ for the rest of your lives, if he asked you to. 
“God, sweetheart. Me too,” he grunted. 
Joel couldn’t last much longer. He let out groans and strangled out moans as his pace became sloppy. “Let me make you come,” he begged. He wriggled his hand between your bodies, placing his thumb on your clit. He held a firm pressure to the sensitive bud and moved it in concise circles, pushing you closer and closer to your release. 
You let out a throaty moan as you felt your climax begin to bubble up inside you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pleaded. “I’m right there.”
Joel just kept doing what he was doing. Circles on your clit and fucking you deep, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. Your moans turned frantic and you cried out his name, over and over again, like a prayer. Your orgasm was much more intense than the last one, it sent electricity all through your body. You felt tingles and sparks wash over you, from your scalp all through your fingertips, down all the way to your toes. It was the best orgasm any lover of yours had ever blessed you with. 
Joel felt your body shudder around him, felt your pussy convulse and squeeze his cock. His thrusts became harder, faster, and frenzied as he chased his own climax. You watched his eyes screw shut and little drops of sweat fall down his temples as he let out a deep moan. His cock pulsed inside you, painting you with his hot seed. 
He let out a laugh then, between panting breaths. He pulled you in for a hug, his skin hot and slick with sweat. Head pressed to his heaving chest, you could feel his heartbeat in your ear. Your new favorite feeling. 
Joel pulled away from you, kissed you sweetly and helped you clean up. You pulled on your clothes and sat neatly at the table, picking up and sorting out the disheveled cards. Joel did the same, he bent down next to you and gathered the cards on the ground. 
He placed them in front of you, left for a second with your empty glasses, and returned with the glasses of water refilled before sitting in his seat again. How you didn’t knock them over during your fucking, you had no idea.
“Alright, baby. Show me how you shuffle now,” he grinned at you. He wanted to make sure his unorthodox method of teaching you actually worked. 
You smiled back, split the deck in two and mirrored them for the nth time that evening,  and then placed your fingers along the two decks. You slid your thumbs up the cards, watched one fall on top of the other, and brought the cards back up into a nice arch. With a breath, you let off one thumb and let the cards fall down slowly. You sighed in relief. Your maneuver wasn’t quite as smooth as Joel’s, but there was plenty of time to practice. 
You dealt out ten cards each, gathered your hand and did your best to hide a smirk. You held a three, four, and six of clubs, three kings, and two jacks. 
Joel sighs disappointedly at his hand. You couldn’t have dealt him worse cards. Nothing went with anything. 
The two of you exchanged cards quietly, as if you didn’t just desecrate Joel’s dining room table. It was quite funny, really.
The game was quick, just like before. You placed your sets and melds in front of him. “Read it and weep,” you jeer.
Joel grumbles something about cheating and steals your cards. “Rematch,” he says. “Loser gives the winner head.”
“Deal,”
Tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoldglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze
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Text
I Think I Like You | Alessia Russo x Reader
based on this request. friends to lovers vibe... Enjoy :)
“Where’s (y/n)?” Alessia asks the moment she reaches her family after the match. Her eyes had been searching for yours the whole match. 
“Well hello to you, too darling,” her mother Carol jokes. 
Alessia blushes, wrapping her mother and father in a hug, “sorry. Hi mum, dad. You alright yeah?”
“You played well, 2 goals,” her father Mario praises excitedly.  
“Thanks… so (y/n)?” She questions again looking between her parents and brothers. 
“She wasn’t feeling the greatest when we arrived to pick her up today hun. I made her stay home,” Carol informs. 
The panic quickly rises on Alessia’s face. You never missed her games. The two of you had been inseparable ever since you met back in uni over in the states. Finding comfort in one another since you were both English. You’d followed her back to England after graduation, but refused to admit she was the reason why. Instead you just said there were more job opportunities for you out here. 
“Would you look at that? Guess who’s ringing me,” her brother Gio teases, holding the phone in Alessia’s face before pulling it out of her reach. 
“Knock it off Gio. Something could be wrong with her. Give it here,” the striker fusses, ready to tackle him for the phone. 
“Cut it out Gio,” Carol swats at the boy's arm. 
With a playful roll of the eyes he lets Alessia grab the phone. The striker frantically pressed at the accept call button. “(Y/n), you alright?”
“Lessi, you played amazing! Of course you wait until I’m not there to score 2 bangers,” you say through the phone. 
Alessia relaxes, a calm smile gracing her face at the fact you don’t sound too bad, “how you feeling bug? Mum said you weren’t feeling well.”
You huff, “I’m fine. She was being too cautious. I’m sorry I missed your game Lessi.”
She can just hear the pout on your face, “don’t worry about that. Tell me what you need and I’ll bring it with me.”
You always melted at the way Alessia took care of you when you were sick or even just having a bad day. You couldn’t help but feed into how she tends to you, “can we have ice cream and cuddle?”
Alessia swooning over the cute tone of your voice, “of course bug, anything you want. I’ll grab some food and medicine too. Just give me a bit to finish up here and go to the store okay?” 
“Lessi?”
“Yes?”
You smirk even though she can’t see it, “2 goals on the day I can’t be there, really?”
She laughs, turning her back and lowering her voice in an attempt to not be heard, “they were both for you. Did you see me kiss the pinky?” 
That was your thing, ever since uni. A pinky promise was sacred between the two of you. “I did. Super cute. Nice that you finally have a unique celly,” you joke.  
“I’ll see you soon,” Alessia releases a breath as the call disconnects. Turning around she’s met with two curious gazes and two teasing ones. 
“Is your wife alive and well?” Of course it's Gio who starts.  
Alessia ignores him handing the phone back over. “When are you just going to go for it Less? She is practically a wag already,” it was Luca’s turn to get in on it now. 
“We’re just friends,” Alessia grumbles face turning beet red. 
“Yeah, a friend who you dedicate goals and goal celebrations to.”
Carol pulls her into her arms allowing Alessia to bury her face in her neck, “you two cut it out now. How is she doing sweetheart? Does she need anything?”
“She just wants ice cream and cuddles, the usual,” she mumbles. 
“Glad my daughter in law is fine,” Mario chimes in much to the amusement of his sons. 
A groan escapes Alessia as she pulls away, “I’m going to change and head out, so I can get to (y/n).”
“Good idea. Don’t keep the wife waiting,” Gio as always had to get the last word. 
It’s a few hours later that there’s a knock at your door. Wrapped snug in a blanket you answer, knowing it was your favorite blonde striker. “Took you long enough. I’m freezing. Put all that down, I need your body heat.”
“No hi? Just immediately barking out orders today huh?” Alessia sucks her teeth jokingly. 
“Sorry, hi Lessi,” you wait until she’s dropped the bags on the counter before pulling her into a hug. 
“How you feeling?” She places a hand to your forehead and then neck. 
You shake out of her protective grip, “I’m fine Lessi. Please come cuddle.”
She nods, putting the ice cream in the freezer and leaving the rest for later. You are standing by the couch when she enters, “assume the position.”
Alessia lays across the couch, opening her arms wide for you to lay on top of her. A strong grip around your waist as you flop down, encasing you both under the blanket. Burying your face into her neck as she soothingly strokes your back. This was your peace. 
You giggle when you feel the racing heart of Alessia beneath you, “running a marathon are you?” When you get no response and her hand stills you pull away so you can see her face. “What’s wrong Less?”
“Nothing sorry,” she says, trying to pull you back down. 
You fully sit up resting yourself in her lap as she lays there. “Liar. Did something happen after the game? Are you thinking about the sitter that could’ve got you a hat-trick star girl,” you tease trying to lighten her mood. 
“I hate that nickname,” she whines. 
“Talk to me.”
Alessia grabs at you pulling you back down. “Gio and Luca were winding me up over our call. Now I’m in my head.” 
You get yourself back comfortable with your head against her chest, “why do you let them get to you Lessi?”
You feel her sigh. You’ve known Alessia long enough to know that when she’s in her head it’s best to let her work it out alone. The striker was an over-thinker. Silence was never uncomfortable between the two of you. 
“I think I like like you (y/n),” Alessia murmurs. 
You’re stunned. You’ve known Alessia for years now and had long given up on the thought that she may feel the same. You knew from the moment you met her, but all the girl thought about was football. 
“I know it’s out of the blue and we are just friends but not having you in the stands today I felt like a piece of me was missing. Then Gio and Luca were going on about how you were already a wag and I-… I know that I like you. I just… we are best friends. Please don’t hate me.”
You don’t move from your spot on her chest, “I like you too Alessia.”
“You do?”
You nod against her, “I do. I was just waiting for you to like something other than football.”
The moment is exactly how you’d imagine something like this going with Alessia. No pressure. Everything was calm, no need for any theatrics. Just the two of you, whispering secrets to each other like you did all those years before in uni. 
“Do you want ice cream?” She asks. 
“In a minute, let’s just stay like this a while longer.”
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