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#Tell him you care about him but you don’t think you can do this anymore
norizz-nation · 1 day
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Hi there! Could I request a Dominant Max smut with a virgin fem reader? They've been friends for a while and then one slightly tipsy night leads to something more? Thanks!
Cherry Sundress | M.V1
Summary: Can friends really be something more? Well only if it’s dark desire.
Warnings: nsfw, 18+
You’ve been friends with Max for a few years now. You must admit that he’s the most sweetest person you’ve ever met. He somehow makes you feel safe. He’s the reason why you’re not insecure anymore, about anything. He’s like this ray of light that changed your whole life.
You love him. Of course you love him. You love the way his eyes smile even when he’s trying to hide it. You love the way he bites his lips when you crack flirty jokes with him. You love the way his eyes scream ‘I love you’ to you.
Those eyes.
Those ocean blue eyes.
You love them.
You love the way he’s so effortlessly funny. You love the way he’s so graceful. You love the way his body looks when he’s wearing nothing but shorts. You love thinking about him when you get yourself off. You love this lustful desire you have for him.
But you’re not sure if you’re loving your current situation.
His big hands softly brushing your waist. Looking down at your body so fondly as if you’re the most prettiest girl he’s ever seen.
“Your waist looks so small when I have my hands wrapped around it.” His words were a bit louder than a whisper yet not enough for you to hear it properly.
His hands found their way up, lifting your sundress and revealing your red panties. “So, red because you have cherries all over your little dress?” He asked smirking like a devil as he tugged on your panties.
Your thighs rubbed together as you stopped his hands from pulling it down. “Nervous, huh?” He asked, pushing your hand away.
You nodded your head as you looked down. Too shy to make eye contact. Max smiled lightly and whispered in your ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You’ll never want another guy’s touch after I’m done with you.”
He then kissed your cheek and went lower down to kiss your neck. You couldn’t help but tug on his hair and pull his head closer to you. You were dying to feel his lips on yours.
“Please…” You pleaded, not even knowing what you’re pleading for. Maybe because you want to kiss him so bad. You’re too drunk to even think about it right now. So is he.
His lips brushed against your neck then went up to your jaw. You gasped softly when he finally kissed you.
It felt like you’re melting for him. You could taste the wine on his tongue which made you squirm a little. Your hands uncontrollably traveled their way through his body. Feeling every little muscle tense for you.
You whined when he pulled away from kissing you. “You can take it, right schatz?” He breathlessly asked as he pulled your panties down. You nodded desperately, wanting him to touch you already. However he wants to touch you.
You bit on your lower lip, trying your best to hold back your moan when you felt him slowly rub his fingertip on your clit. “You like that, huh?” He teasingly asked and you nodded, not being able to speak.
“I can tell, because you’re so wet right now. Did I make you this wet, schatz?” He asked while rubbing on your clit lightly. “Y-yes, you did. It’s only for you.” You replied to him.
“Okay schatz this might hurt a little but I promise it’ll feel good later. Can you do this for me?” He asked, making sure that you’re okay with it. You nodded, assuring him that you can take it.
He murmured a ‘good’ while he slowly pushed his middle finger inside of you. His curled finger inside you made you grip on the bedsheets. “Oh fuck.” You moaned out as he smirked at you.
“Fuck, more please Max.” You pleaded and Max raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you sure sweetheart?” He asked and you desperately nodded again.
“Please, I wanna feel you inside of me.” You said as you whined out. Max suddenly grabbed your wrist and made you feel his bulge through his jeans. Your mouth hung open when you felt his hard bulge almost ripping his jeans. “You sure your little pussy can take all of this, schatz?” He asked teasingly.
“Yes, I can.” You said, not being sure if you actually can or not. But it doesn’t matter. All you want is his touch.
A/N: I’m sorry if it’s not that much of dominant Max. But still, hope yall like it. As always, requests are open so feel free to ask what you want me to write. I love you. ❤️
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Can you do something with Logan that is super angsty? Maybe you two get in a fight over his career and your career? Then both of you realize that you can live without each other and end up getting back together.
Thank you!!
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I can’t live without you — Logan Sargent x reader
“I can’t do this anymore Logan,” you said, cramming your clothes into your suitcase.
“Do what? What’s going on?” Logan asked
“Stand by and watch as Williams destroys your career” you said.
“Williams isn’t destroying my career, what are you talking about?” Logan says slightly, raising his voice.
“Yea they are Logan but you're so blinded by your loyalty to the team you can’t see it” you yelled through the tears.
“Wait a minute, you can’t leave!”
“Yes, I can” you said, your voice steady but tears were flowing down your face. “I can’t do this anymore”
“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!” Logan yelled as you went to slam the door shut, but Logan grabbed the door and stopped it.
“That team is destroying you Logan, it's taking its toll on your mental health. you can’t keep putting yourself through this” you said, as you put a hand on Logan’s arm.
“Williams doesn’t care about you. They used your signing as a PR move to bring in more American formula one fans and you're too blind to see that” you tell him.
“Don’t say that! Williams cares about me! They brought me in, they believed in me!”
“That’s just what they want you to believe. They’re using you…I don't know why I'm wasting my breath. I know you're going to stay. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean you left a team that loved you and cared about you, and now you're throwing it away for a team that's going to drag you through the mud.”
“Stop. Stop saying those things.” Logan said harshly. “I’m not throwing anything away. My loyalty to Williams is what’s been pushing me to do my best and not make a mistake.”
“Keep telling yourself that Logan” you say finally leaving the hotel room.
“No, wait!” Logan yelled into the hallway as you shut the door. You kept walking and didn’t turn around.
“Damnit!” Logan yelled.
“She’ll come back, she’ll come to see that it’s all going to be okay.” Logan muttered to himself.
Hours later, Logan was sitting in front of his laptop in the dark looking at old pictures of them together.
A photo of you two, looking happy came into view.
“Maybe loyalty isn’t the most important thing?” He whispered to himself.
A few weeks have gone by since the Australian Grand Prix since the night you left Logan alone in the hotel room. Logan’s home race was coming up and he wasn’t going to lie he was nervous as all get out.
Logan missed you and he realized that you were right about the team. They didn’t care about him, not like you had. Fans started noticing that Logan was looking more tired and exhausted than before the bags under his had darkened. They looked so dark that it looked like he had black eyes.
Logan’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, from stress, from working nonstop to show the team what he was made of. He looked so worn out, and it was breaking your heart. You knew that he was pushing himself too hard, and it was beginning to take a toll on his mental health, and you just wanted to be there to support him.
The race weekend was approaching, and he was still working late into the night, trying to perfect his setup. Logan’s exhaustion was beginning to show, he looked like a shell of himself. He had lost weight, and his eyes were dark and sunken. The fan base was starting to get worried about him.
You weren’t doing much better yourself. You were worried sick about him, every day. You’d lost weight, you could barely sleep because all you did was worry and think about him.
Your friends tried to comfort you, but you weren’t listening to anyone, you were focused on one thing, on getting him back.
You would spend all night and day looking for flight deals online, trying to find a way to get home and see him again. But every time you looked, they were all sold out. It felt like the universe was against you, but really it just wanted you to wait a little bit longer, to wait until the right time to reunite you.
You would constantly check the calendar, seeing how many days there were left before you could get on a flight and see him again.
Time was passing so slowly, and it felt like it was never going to end. But then finally, the day came when your flight was confirmed, and you were on your way back.
You were just hours away from seeing him again, but the feeling of relief and anxiety were equally strong. You knew you wanted to see him, but at the same time, a part of you was scared of what he would say, or that he might have moved on.
You landed in the US, and you could barely contain your emotions, you were nervous and excited, and a million other things at the same time, as you got to your car. You just wanted to get to the hotel and see him as soon as possible, but at the end of the day, you also wanted to get it right, to do this the right way.
Your stomach was in knots as you pulled into the hotel, and you felt your heart racing. You couldn't believe you were actually doing this, you couldn't believe you were actually back in the US.
You took a deep breath, and walked through the doors into the hotel, up to his room.
You stopped in front of the room, taking a moment to collect yourself before knocking on the door.
After what felt like an eternity, he opened the door. Logan’s face had gone pale, and the stress and exhaustion that had been weighing on him disappeared.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, his mouth was dry, and he could barely get the words out.
“I had to see you, I had to come back” you replied, trying to get the words out.
He opened the door wider, inviting you in, you slowly walked past him, and he could feel the tension in the air.
“I’ve missed you” Logan whispered, his heart began to beat faster and faster, he was overcome with emotion, and he pulled you into a tight embrace.
“I’ve missed you too” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, and burying your head into his chest.
He pulls you even closer to him, not letting you go.
The air felt thick between the two of you, neither wanted to break the embrace, neither wanted to talk, neither wanted anything more than to feel close to each other again.
Finally, after a long moment, he broke the embrace and stepped back, wiping his eyes, he had almost cried right then and there.
“I’m-I’m so sorry” he said, unable to stop the words from pouring out.
“For what? “ You asked, you had no idea what he was apologizing for. All you knew was that you wanted to be in his arms again.
“I know I’ve been distant recently, and I haven’t been there for you” he said, taking your hands in his. He stared into your eyes, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your face.
“I just…” he began, but choked up, unable to find the right words. His lips trembled, his face twisted in regret and guilt.
“Just what?” You asked gently, trying to understand what was going on.
“You were right, my loyalty to the team has taken everything from me”. He said, his voice cracking as he fought back the tears.
“What do you mean?” You asked, he was starting to not make sense, was he just tired, it must be that, because you had no idea where this was coming from.
“You were right about the team, you said that they didn’t care about me, that they were using me as a PR move. And I tried to deny it, I tried to deny everything you said, but it’s all true…”
“I’ve pushed myself to the point of mental exhaustion, and all for what, I’ve been so blind thinking that I needed to do this, but the truth is I don’t, I don’t need Williams, I need you…” He said, staring back at you.
“Do you need me?” You said, his words caught you off guard. The reality was hitting you, he needed you, he didn’t need the team. He needed you.
“Without you, I’m lost” he said finally, admitting it out loud, he took a deep breath. “I’ve been so worried about losing Williams, and I should have been worried about losing you.”
“I need you Logan , I've missed you so much” you said, tears now spilling down your face.
“I’ve missed you too” he said, wrapping his arms around you once again. You could feel the tension in the air subside, and the stress that had been weighing on you both disappeared. It felt almost as if you’d never been apart.
His grip tightened around you, not wanting to let you go, like he needed to hold you just a little bit longer. You could feel him taking deep breaths and his heartbeat steady. It was like he needed the two of you to be as close as possible for a minute, as if he needed to make up for lost time.
“I’m never letting you leave again” he said softly, tightening his grip once again. You could feel his heart rate settle, and you could feel the tension ease even greater. It felt like home.
@a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @bblouifford @bbtoni @jinx53 @jeffs77 @toasttt11 @hrts4scarr @faithshouseofchaos @vellicora
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norrizzandpia · 21 hours
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hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.
i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.
even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.
I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk
To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)
Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.
Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING
Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason
Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.
That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.
Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.
She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”
It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”
She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”
He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”
“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.
He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”
Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”
He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”
With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.
She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.
Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.
“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.
She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.
“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”
She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”
He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”
He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.
She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.
She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”
He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”
Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.
When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.
“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.
She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”
He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”
Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”
He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”
She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”
He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”
Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.
She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.
Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.
He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”
Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”
His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”
If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.
“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.
He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”
She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”
Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”
More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”
It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.
“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”
He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.
However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.
A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?
Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.
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itsabouttimex2 · 5 hours
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Oooh how about some yandere headcanons of Tang , Redson and Azure lion with a reader who’s very reckless? They’re always throwing themselves into danger whenever the team is fighting, and reader just insists they’re trying to help. Please if not no worries XD
Sure thing! Also, I think I’m going to grind out a few more requests before I wipe my inbox. I let it grow shamefully out of care during my hiatuses. Then I’ll open up Character x Character (still platonic) requests for a while.
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“Y/N, I find that I have warned you many times about this kind of behavior…”
You look up to the leonine demon with a frown, gripping one of your upper arms as a form of self-support. How many times have you heard this lecture? How many times would you hear it in the future? Every time that you so much as try to help him in a fight, you’re sat down for this same spiel.
But you don’t remember him ever being this stern. In fact, he seems-
“Cub,” the lion says, carefully taking your chin between two massive fingers. He says it pointedly, as though preemptively arguing his stance- you’re young and small, still a child to him. One he sees as worthy of his love and protection, even if you might try to reject it.
“Y-yes, Azure?”
“I would like you to pay close attention when I’m talking to you, please.”
Even upset, the demon remains polite and gentle, if rather firm. His fingers are soft to the touch, claws carefully sheathed. He’s never used them against you, not even once. Nor has he even threatened you with them.
His massive hand shifts to your hair, stroking the unruly strands back into place. His metacarpal pad squishes into your cheek, and you can’t help but lean into it, savoring the brief moment of warmth he offers during this long scolding.
“It seems I must switch my methods- clearly, my words will continue to fall on deaf ears if I continue down this path.”
Azure outright scruffs you- snags you by the cape attached to your pauldrons and lifts until your feet leave the ground.
“Come along, cub,” the lion says, as though you have a choice at the moment. All you can do is dangle from his blue-furred hand and try not to squirm, hoping that your cape won’t rip and sending you tumbling.
The training grounds are a familiar sight, hours and hours spent here together, learning all of Azure’s skills.
He presses a wooden training blade into your hands, then takes up one of his own.
“If I cannot teach you, perhaps a full day of training will. We will be sparring from this moment to your bedtime,” he sternly informs, a blush creeping up your face at his final word. That your mentor saw you as so young that he enforced a strict bedtime was…
Well, you tried to tell yourself it was reasonable. After all, if you were growing stronger and exhausting your body, you’d need lots of rest, wouldn’t you?
Didn’t justify the constant checking on you through the night, tucking you in every time the blankets come loose, and ensuring that all the windows were shut and locked.
And you had no doubt that was where you’d end up, exhausted and face-down on your bed, letting Azure gingerly knead out your aching muscles with his massive paws.
But all of that was for later. For now?
You had a full eight hours of training ahead.
Good luck, Y/N.
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“No.”
“Wuh- what the hell do you mean, no?! I haven’t said anything yet!”
“And the answer is still no, brat.”
This is the most frequent conversation you and Red Son seem to have, constant preemptive denial of whatever scheme you’re dreaming up.
He’s viciously protective of you, serving as an ever-vigilant guard. Not only is your every move tracked and monitored, but your actions are under constant and fierce scrutiny.
“I see you went to that cheese tea stall, Y/N. After I told you that you weren’t allowed to go.”
“Red, they moved it to the inner city! It’s way safer there, so all your arguments before don’t even matter anymore!”
“…hmph. I suppose I’ll let this slide, then. But I’m not going to be so merciful next time.”
Constant restrictions on where you go and what you do, which could theoretically be lessened to some degree, if only you’d just stop being such a damn fool.
To him, your actions are proof of immaturity, preventing Red Son from genuinely trusting you or letting loose the stranglehold grip he’s taken on your life.
To you? You are genuinely just trying to help the people you love, if a bit recklessly.
But Red doesn’t see it that way, and even when you try to make a convincing argument as to why he should, it’s promptly shot down.
So with debate and brute force both proving pointless in changing his mind, you switch to stealth and subterfuge instead. Expect to get caught about fifty percent of the time, then forced back inside and placed under lock and key.
He loves you, dammit! Why do you have to be so stupid?! Why do you have to try and sneak out?! Why can’t he love any other idiotic mortal around?!
Why does it have to be you?
Red Son can’t imagine that he’ll ever find out why he came to cherish someone as small and weak and stupid as you… but he does.
And since he can’t force himself to stop caring, he’ll just have to impose harsher and harsher restrictions until you finally submit to his care.
Maybe then he’ll finally be able to berate thoroughly talk you out of your heroic ‘delusions’. Maybe you’ll crack and break down, finally discouraged from your kindness.
Just this once, he’ll let you cry into his shoulder.
It’s the least he can do for the person he loves most.
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Oh, this poor man. Weak ankles, frail body, fragile heart. You are not doing him any favors by acting recklessly.
“Y/N, NO! Put that down! You- you can’t just go around swinging random swords- stop spinning it!”
“It’s fine, Mister Tang! Mei’s been teaching me!”
“Teaching you to what?! Get yourself killed as quickly as possible?!”
Yeah, he’s constantly on the verge of falling apart. Given that the scholar genuinely just wants to keep you safe and sound, it’s absolutely nerve-wracking for him to deal with you.
Expect him to turn to the Noodlefam for help eventually. Given that they cherish Tang as much as he cherishes them, it’s not hard to rally them into lending him a hand.
He’ll speak to MK about the whole matter, talking him into keeping an eye out for you. He might even convince the young hero to whip up a clone to keep surveillance on you, trying it’s hardest to keep you out of trouble.
As for Pigsy, well… if Tang sees you as a child, let’s be honest- so does the chef. Man has a ladle locked and loaded for the backside of your head, and a sharp remand to go with the sting. “Enough messing around, Y/N! Put the damn sword down and help me with these dumplings already!” And at his words you reluctantly clamber down from the windowsill you were crawling over, settling back at the counter to help the porcine demon prep a meal.
All three of them together have zero issue with keeping you under control, but Tang is clearly the most dedicated here, and sometimes on his own in tending to the matter.
You have to sit through hours of scoldings and lectures. When he’s finally done trying to impart upon you why what you’ve done is dangerous, Tang sends you off to bed with his worried words ringing in your ears.
He’ll stop by to tuck you in, of course. Even when caught in the maddening throes of obsession is Tang kind, always looking to dote on you in some way.
There’s definitely worse people to be dealing with, at least.
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1lostsoul0fishbowl · 2 days
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In lostys universe, Gare and El are long distance during some of their college years.
Do they ever have any big fights or miscommunication during that period?? Any conversations about what their future together will look like as the years peel away to adulthood? Just curious 🥰♥️
Still loving that greatmage lore 💜🩷
Ohh girl this made me think A LOT. because my first instinct was to be like “noooo my pookies never fight!” but that’s completely unrealistic. So I dug deep and came up with a few ideas… and of course it got really long so I’m putting it under a readmore…
- I think their biggest fights would be about money, but not in the typical way a young couple fights about money! In both Next Time I Fall and Lost and Found I alluded to El and Kali getting large settlements of “hush money” from Hawkins Lab, and at the end of Next Time El even suggests to Gareth that they use some of that money to get married. But it’s the late 80s and I’m sure Hopper had repeatedly impressed upon Gareth the importance of The Man Being The Breadwinner and the need to Properly Take Care Of His Daughter, so Gareth wouldn’t feel right about letting El pay for anything.
Finally El sits both Hopper and Gareth down one day and tells them look, Chrissy helped me find this super cute house and I can easily afford it so I’m gonna buy it. Gareth, you’re welcome to live there with me if you can get over your pride about it. And Dad, you need to mind your own beeswax. (Will taught her that phrase, and he almost chokes trying to hold back his laughter when he hears her repeat it.)
- Another thing I can imagine is the long-distance thing just wearing on both of them (they’re cuddly koalas and they can’t stand being apart for too long) but I could see that manifesting in different ways. For El, I think insecurity would be something she’d struggle with; especially if school interfered with time they wanted to spend together, she would feel neglected and get a little pouty about Gare thinking his work was more important than her. And I can imagine if he got impatient or exasperated about that, her mind would immediately leap to “you don’t love me anymore?” She needs a lot of reassurance after everything she’s been through.
But this, I think, would probably lead to Gareth never wanting to speak up about his own needs or problems, because he does truly want to be that steadfast source of reassurance for her, but also sometimes he feels a little resentful, as if she doesn’t trust him enough to keep loving her even when he’s irritated. And then that makes him wonder if she feels that way because of everything with Mike, and he gets pouty thinking she’s comparing him to Mike. Oh, kiddos.
- I imagined all of this coming to a head one weekend when Gareth wasn’t planning to come home because he was exhausted and had a ton of work to do, but El getting upset with him and kinda giving him a guilt trip about it until finally he gives in and says okay fine I’m coming. But he’s so tired that he ends up falling asleep behind the wheel and getting into a minor accident, which naturally freaks El out, and I think that would lead to a very deep heart-to-heart talk where they both end up resolving to communicate more honestly about their needs, and trust that their relationship can withstand temporary separation when needed.
- On a much happier note, conversations about the future!
I know a lot of people headcanon El as wanting tons of kids, but for some reason I imagine that pregnancy would be total body-horror for her. (Maybe I’m drawing that from my personal life? Lmao) I do believe she’d want a family of her own though, and I think she and Gare would have a lot of conversations about fostering and/or adoption to help troubled kids. And there’s a lovely fic that was gifted to me about the two of them preparing to welcome their first foster child.
I think they’d want pets, too— I imagine them going to an animal shelter just to look around, and El overhearing an employee saying “nobody will ever adopt this one, these dogs are monsters.” She instantly demands to see the monster dog, and of course it’s not a monster at all, it’s the cutest tiny little pit bull puppy, and El and Gare instantly fall in love with her and name her Bosco since she’s chocolate brown. 😊
I think El would have a lot of trouble deciding what she wanted to do after high school, as far as more schooling or a career or what, and they’d have a lot of discussions about that.
And of course they’d talk about traveling— there’s so many places they both want to see, and experiences they want to have for the first time together. Also I think it would be super cute if they went to Wales with Granny and Granddad Emerson to visit relatives and friends there. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿
This got way longer than I thought it would lmao but thank you so much for asking! I always love sharing my ideas and headcanons with you! 💕
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genderqueer-karma · 11 months
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guys can i talk about that fucking guy. clap if you think i should talk about that fucking guy.
(accidental ramble in the tags. oops. don’t read if you don’t want to read a crisis.)
#yo it's d :)#you already know who that fucking guy is unless you’re new here and that’s none of you so .#i need to start asking my friends if i can talk about that guy but it’s hard honestly#he literally takes up 50 to 80 per cent of my mind on a daily basis#even when i’m not thinking about him i’m thinking of him#i’ll see something blue and be like ‘wow! yk who really likes the color blue?’ and suddenly my brain is flooded with thoughts of Him#don’t get me wrong i love him but i realize that other people don’t care about him as much as i do so i’m trying to dial it back#still. it’s hard.#especially knowing that other people know how to contain themselves and i’m just sitting here raw out in the open like this#to be honest idk how i managed to survive school because since september i’ve kinda been living in mana hell(/heaven. depending on the day)#some people say they have addictive personalities and honestly i think that’s me#my brain is addicted to him! i literally study this man’s face and mannerisms and can tell you exactly how he smiles when his expression#is otherwise neutral. i can relay unnecessary amounts of his band history to you and have watched WAY too many interviews and videos#and the worst part? i literally told myself ‘hey! you can’t get like this again’* because the last time was really bad! it was destructive!#*(about a person.) i literally cannot function sometimes for just thinking about this guy.#i rarely listen to music besides his anymore and can literally tell you characteristic features of his composing! it’s kind of embarrassing!#like i’m a music nerd but i’m not THAT big of a music nerd. i usually can’t tell you things like that. most i can do is tell you#instrumentation. but whenever i listen to something he *mightve* composed i can automatically confirm or deny.#that’s not normal !!!!!!!!#having over *2000* pictures of a person you’ve never met in your phone is not normal!#but despite me being in the goddamn TRENCHES. i love him so so so much.#he genuinely makes me so happy. seeing images/videos of him from any time period makes me go ‘!!!’ because i think he’s the coolest!#and he’s so inspiring. he’s part of the reason i took up drawing again and regained some passion for music.#thus ends my tale of woe.
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#I would kill my ex ‘p’ to become rich.#I would kill my ex ‘m’ to obtain even more beauty and attract even more people.#I would beat up my ex ‘b’ to the point of him almost dying to have a nice house and the best of the best of things.#I would beat up my bf ‘d’ to be more mentally stable so that I am balanced and at peace with myself and my life.#I would kill my ex ‘k’ to become a well known scholar who has many degrees in maths science and philosophy and to preform surgery&research#I would step on anybody to get to where I want to be in life if it meant making myself happy.#I just manipulated my bf into feeling bad for me because I genuinely just want to feel good and secure even if that’s at his expense.#he’s right.. I don’t care about anyone more than myself and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. why should I put someone above myself?#I’ll tell you what.. until someone can show me that being a good honest generous person can get me anywhere I’ll keep doing what works :)#grey god#puppets#and I genuinely just don’t like or care for others. there’s always something I want in return when it comes to relationships with others.#I find humans disgusting and faulty and I don’t care if I add to their pain because it’s usually to benefit me and if it doesn’t it’s to-#-get back at others for hurting me. or I’m bored. I probably have the most sick and twisted mind of anyone I know. I think people know that#-tho but they still keep me around and help me out whenever I need it. it’s all a show for me and for them. people are so stupid and they#-genuinely think doing the right think helps them. it doesn’t. it’s kind of sad. I just know that once ‘d’ realizes I’ve taken him for -#-everything he’s got it’ll be too late and he’ll have to deal with how much better I am than him and how much I’ve grown leeching off of-#-his emotional labor. I just jump from one person to another taking what I want and what I can. I don’t think I’ve genuinely loved anyone.#I’ve always been this way. I almost love people but then I just truly don’t. it’s more fun to see how far I can break them before#-they can’t do it anymore. I hope that everyone I’ve ever hurt continues to hurt forever and that they never grown or evolve.#’d’ told me tonight that I ruined his life. ‘b’ told me I ruined him. ‘m’ is a coward and he said he’ll never love again.#’k’ is a used up simple minded loser. ‘p’ is a stunted delusion addict with me issues for the rest of his life. notice I said me issues and#not daddy or mommy issues lol. I have tricked them all. they are all pathetic and whimpy fucks.#the day I grinded against ‘d’s sluty ass again after I ‘raped him’ he told me to go slow but it made me think.. what if I just raped him?#I could just do it and he won’t do shit about it. he’ll forgive me like always. he’s an insecure loser. I wanted to just take my dick-#and shove it down his throat and then ruin his hole with it#but I didn’t. I respected what he said but the fact that I thought about it isn’t good.
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ghostofcitrus · 2 years
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good god ive started making ‘busy’ my key personality trait
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imagopersonal · 9 months
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Aziraphale was about to confess too before Metatron and his coffee came into the bookshop;
Okay, hear me out. In 2x02, when they’re talking about “how people fall in love”, Crowley talks about sudden rainstorms,
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which is an obvious reference to how he fell in love, about 6000 years earlier (poor demon thinks everyone falls in love the way he did)
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Aziraphale doesn’t get it and answers “seems a bit unlikely”. He didn’t connect the dots, he doesn’t think Crowley loves him that way. All he knows about falling in love is what he read in books. Of course he fell in love with Crowley too, but I’m pretty sure he did in ‘41 when Crowley saved his books from a bomb, and that’s a bit hard to recreate, so… balls.
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That’s his idea, you make two people dance together and they magically fall in love, which is so in-character I want to scream. Now let’s get to 2x05. We know Aziraphale always tried to avoid organizing those meetings, but he’s suddenly so excited about it he is WILLING TO GIVE AWAY HIS BOOKS. Why would he do something like that? There’s no way it’s actually to make Maggie and Nina fall in love. At that point, Muriel doesn’t even care anymore about it, they all know the truth about the miracle is about to be revealed, so there’s no point in being so persistent about Maggie and Nina’s relationship. He’s an angel; of course he cares about humans being happy, but I don’t think he cares so much about two semi-strangers’ love life that he’s willing to give away BOOKS for the off chance that the Jane Austen method will actually work on two humans he knows nothing about. So, my conclusion is, he’s organizing that night for him and Crowley. They are the ones that he hopes realize they’re deeply in love with each other, and that is something worth giving away books for. Which explains why he’s so excited but also a bit scared when he asks Crowley to dance with him.
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It explains why he ignores the fact that Crowley is trying to tell him that something important and dangerous is about to happen, just so they can have a little dance. It also explains this reaction when he sees Gabriel and Beelzebub being in love with each other
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and the way he looks at Crowley while they’re talking about them.
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I mean, I know he always stares lovingly at him, but not like that, right? That’s a face that screams “I’m so going to tell you I love you when all this is over”.
So, my point is:
Fuck Metatron.
That’s my point.
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luv4fushi · 3 months
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thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.
he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.
it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.
“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”
“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.
arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.
you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.
“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”
“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”
it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”
satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”
“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.
the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.
“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.
“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.
“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.
“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”
satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”
“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”
silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.
“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”
you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”
“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”
you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.
“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”
satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.
“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”
“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”
“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”
“it’s a game!”
you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.
“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”
“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”
“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.
“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.
satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”
“love you, dummy.”
“love you too, baby.”
“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.
“yes, chef!”
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bluesadansey · 1 year
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I don’t understand so many lines of thought certain people had going into this show but one of ones I understand least is people who thought they were going to watch the whole affair storyline unfold not only with no physical intimacy, but also no emphasis on them being attracted to each other, and also no one actively flirting with anyone else like????
#and I mean they do talk about being attracted to each other physically in the book too as well as emotional and creative bonding#and there are lines in the book I would not classify as Not actively flirting less of it yes because of format but#they can’t monologue/describe how they feel about each other + have outsider povs on them all the time like in the book.#the show has to Show (lol) you things the book can tell you or imply to you#it’s a different format… it’s like some of you don’t know how tv as a medium Works.#also ‘I need to have characters spell out/tell me their motivations to be sympathetic I refuse to actually do the work to analyze based on#What’s being communicated to me visually’ 💀#s speaks#Especially especially how people engage with show Daisy drives me insane like….#‘I could deal with her perusing him a little in the book but the show made her Too persuer-y and shameless and a heartless homewrecker#I can’t love her as a character anymore because she doesn’t constantly look into the camera and tell me she knows what she’s doing is wrong#/apologize/generally convey she thinks she’s a horrible person (I mean show Daisy totally hates herself as much as book Daisy does if you#pay Any Attention she can also be hella compassionate again if you Pay Attention#like she’s not some one dimensional heartless woman Riley plays her as So humanized and complex idk what to tell you.#But like. you bitches don’t deserve her glad I get to keep Her (show Daisy) for myself#((you don’t deserve book Daisy either imo like you don’t deserve to say you care about her at all imo but anyway))#I’ve said this before but in a way it’s a good thing the discourse surrounding the adaptation and a lot of the crit is so dumb#because it heightens my own experience/enjoyment tbh#and makes the criticisms I do have less of a sticking point than they would be otherwise
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saetoru · 7 months
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Do you think there could be a chance where reader and bully! gojo meet again years later and try again? Maybe 🥹
part one here — contents. fem! reader, exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers, slight nsfw so minors do not interact, slight angst but it’s a hopeful (pretty much happy) ending, idk what else lmk what i missed
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imagine you guys are neighbors—you accidentally meet when you’re both walking up to your apartment doors one night after work. he pauses, and you can feel eyes staring into you from the side so you look over and yeah. wow. there’s your worst heartbreak of your youth standing right there in all his glory, staring at you like you’re a figment of his imagination come true. like he never expected to see you again (you suppose he probably didn’t).
“hey,” he says softly. satoru has never been one to greet someone first, never been the one to reach out and bridge the gap himself. he always waits to be approached. that much has surprisingly changed since the last time you saw him.
“oh…” you trail off, “hi. it’s you.”
you don’t seem half as happy to see him as he does you—but that much is to be expected, of course. satoru didn’t have the luxury of moving on, you can tell because you still can read him just as easy after all these years. like he hasn’t changed the small quirks about him, like he’s still tried desperately to hold onto his past because that’s where you were. he still looks desperately in love like the night you left him.
it’s pathetic, you wanna say. to still be in love for so long. when it’s so clearly over and there’s no coming back. a small part of you is filled with this sick, evil satisfaction that he’s still thinking about you when you don’t spare him a single thought.
but you suppose you’re not at over him as you thought when there’s this much excitement bubbling into you at his suffering. maybe, if you were actually completely over him, you’d be indifferent to him. you wouldn’t forget, but you’d forgive. you’d hope he learned his lesson and spared another innocent, poor girl from what you suffered for simply loving him. for simply wanting him to feel cherished and special and worth someone’s time.
you hope he’s better now—not for yourself, but for someone else. he doesn’t deserve a second of your time.
“you live here?” he asks, mildly shocked.
you’re almost offended. does he mean he thinks you can’t afford to live in the same apartment building as him? or is he just that shocked to see you? nothing about satoru seems genuine—you can’t help but assume the worst in him.
“yes,” you say curtly, “i moved here for work.” (why did you add that? why are you giving an opening to make conversation?)
“oh, really? me too,” he nods. (why is he making conversation? why couldn’t he have just ignored that opening and spared you the trouble?)
“oh,” is all you say. it’s silent for a bit, and then, “well, i better—”
almost like he knows what you’re about to say, he cuts you off with a quick, “i teach now.” you blink, staring at him in confusion. he rubs his neck as he adds, “i uh…i teach at that high school down the block. so uh…that’s why i moved here.”
“that’s…that’s nice,” you nod awkwardly. why is he telling you all this?
“yeah, my students are really cool,” he adds with a grin—it’s…a bit cute, actually. because he means it. his smile is too fond for it to not be true.
this isn’t the satoru you know—at least, not the one you think is the real satoru. you’re not so sure which side of him is actually him.
“i’m glad you enjoy what you do,” you offer. there’s not much else to say. “i’ll be heading in now.”
“right,” he coughs, “s-see you around.”
and then you really do see him around.
sometimes, it’s when you both leave in the mornings—he lets you enter the elevator first and presses the button for you when he gets in. he always lets you exit first too, like he cares to be chivalrous even if you’re not together anymore. sometimes it’s when you’re coming home—he’s holding a bag of take out as he walks up to his own door. you suppose he’s never been one to cook, and that probably hasn’t changed. sometimes, you’ll see him at the grocery store too—his cart is usually just filled with snacks and sweets. it’s not a very adult like shopping cart, so something’s evidently never change.
and every time he sees you, he always tries to strike up a conversation. no matter how short of a window your time is. even if it’s the forty five second elevator ride from floor one to floor three, he’s determined to say something.
today my students got me a gift—it’s a pair of sunglasses, because he still apparently loves those.
i got to take my students on a field trip today. i’ve been planning it for weeks—they have to write a paper on it, though. they’re not too happy about that even if they enjoyed themselves.
today was my student yuji’s birthday. i let the others out early to celebrate with him—they’re apparently all a good bunch of kids. friendly and tight knit in a way satoru’s never experienced. he thinks kids should hold onto that. good friends are hard to come by, after all.
and you’re always guarded. always so cautious and careful when you talk to him. sometimes you try to be polite, other times it’s abundantly apparent you don’t want to converse. he doesn’t pay it any mind, though. just rambles away and away and away and talks enough for the both of you because he’s just happy you’ll listen. even if begrudgingly.
and then one night, it happens—it’s late and you had to stay extra in the office. you’re grumpy and tired and the only good thing about this is that it’s late enough that you probably won’t run into satoru today.
except he’s waiting right there, head against your door as he fidgets with the door knob and grumbles incoherently under his breath.
“stupid damn door,” he slurs, “jus’ fuckin’ open.”
“ahem,” you clear your throat—he stiffens. “any particular reason you’re trying to break in?”
he turns to face you—stumbles a little as his glossed eyes look at you in confusion. he’s drunk—you can smell the liquor on him.
“whad’ya mean? ‘s my door,” he holds an arm out to gesture at your door.
“no,” you sigh, pointing to the door next to yours, “that one is.”
“oh!” he perks up, “‘s why it wasn’t working?”
“most likely,” you nod awkwardly, “that’s usually how that works.”
you watch as he unceremoniously stumbles over his steps to his door—how he tries but fails to get his keys through the key hole before you sigh and take pity on him. you don’t have it in you to leave a drunk person out in the cold, no matter how much (bad) history you might have.
“here,” you sigh, grabbing his keys from his hand and opening the door for him. you try to ignore that brief moment of warmth where your hands brushed against each other.
“do y’know what today is?” he mumbles, breath fanning over your shoulder as you open his door.
“i….tuesday?” you ask, in confusion. he looks crestfallen when you stare his face.
“oh, n-never—” he stumbles a bit. you catch him before you realize. “never mind.”
somehow, you barely manage to help him to his couch before he’s passing out, too drunk to really register anything else. satoru never drinks much—it was the funniest part about him. you used to tease him for it all the time, for being a frat boy who can hardly handle some alcohol.
i like being in control, he’d say petulantly, i don’t need to be drunk to have a good time. i am the good time.
you take a quick glance around his place before you can catch yourself. it’s not very different from your place—the living room is the same size and the structure is more or less the same. his tv is a bit more expensive, and his furniture is more simple. that’s about it.
you glance down at him one last time before walking out and shutting the door behind you. you hesitate for a moment before turning on the screen of your phone to check the date—it takes you a moment, but then it hits you.
it’s the day you broke up. all those years ago. it’s certainly been a good few—you almost forgot the date, but apparently satoru remembers. he remembers enough to go get shit-faced drunk as if the memory is too much to bear.
does he do this every year? drink away his sorrows every anniversary of the day you left him? does he really still care that much? why hasn’t he moved on?
and then you stop thinking about it. it’s not your problem.
but then you just…can’t help but be a bit more gentle around him. it happens without your control. maybe it’s muscle memory. maybe you’re finally letting your muscles relax and do that involuntary thing of their own that they do.
evidently that’s to be more soft with the boy who broke your heart. except he’s a man now, you suppose. he should’ve been a man when you dated him—but you’re glad he grew up eventually. even if you couldn’t be there with him for it.
but you’re a bit more friendly with him now—you suppose you can coexist with your talkative neighbor that also happens to be your awful ex boyfriend. you answer him a bit more when he talks to you, ask him about his students when he brings them up—he brightens so much when you do. it’s….painfully endearing.
yuji is sweet, a little too kind for his own good. nobara is a little tough to soften up, but once you do, she loves tenfold. megumi is a grump, but he’s a real softie. yuta is a bit socially awkward, but he’s got a good heart. maki is all business and very studious, but she’s a determined young girl. panda is not a panda—his name is odd but he’s funny. toge is quiet, but he looks out for people.
they’re good kids. he cares a great deal about them.
and then you start to tell him about your job. how your boss is another baldy that’s annoying—just like the professor you both shared. he chuckles at that. your coworkers are a good gossip, but you’d never go hang out with them outside of work. well, maybe except for one—utahime is a nice person, even if a bit of a priss sometimes.
it’s nice, talking to him. he’s funny, makes banter easily like it’s second nature. sometimes….sometimes it feels like old times. you’re not so sure how you feel about that, but you think it’s not bad. you can be grown ups, the two of you. you can be adults and ignore your immature past. the hurt is still there, but it’s manageable now. doesn’t linger and doesn’t weigh on you anymore.
sometimes satoru still stares at you in that way he did all those years ago, sometimes he still stutters over his words and loses his train of thought when he meets your eyes. he still loves you—you knew that from the start.
you stopped loving him a long time ago. that’s what you thought, anyway—but sometimes seeing satoru is….too familiar. it makes you feel things you thought you buried away for good. maybe it’s just deja vu, maybe it’s just the history speaking for itself.
or maybe…maybe you’re starting to tread a more dangerous path. the one that led you to your first, and worst heartbreak. you can’t step foot on that path again, no matter what.
that’s what you tell yourself, anyway—but satoru and you are talking one night. in front of your doors, like usual. you’re excited from a raise at work, and he’s excited because his students have done exceptionally on their final exams and you’re both celebratory in spirit enough that it turns into a cheery hug—and then…and then you’re kissing.
that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it does. you don’t know who kisses who, but you’re both wrapped up in each other and your lips are pressed against the others and oh, he feels so, so familiar.
like home. even if it’s not always safe to be there anymore, it’s still your home. you can’t let go of that nostalgia.
and then his hands cup your cheeks and your arms wrap around his neck and suddenly he’s in your bed—your door was already unlocked and the two of you somehow managed to stumble through the entire apartment until your back hits your mattress. your place is similar enough to his that he finds your room without any issues.
it was never supposed to happen—the shedding of clothes and the desperately needy kisses. the way you held his face and he held you. the way he trembled as he touched you, scared he’d mess it up again. the way you laced your fingers and kissed him between his brows like old times.
and then he fucks you like he means it. has his head in the crook of your neck and sniffles into your skin, rolls his hips and makes you mewl his name while he tells you every good thing about you.
you’re beautiful, the prettiest he’s ever seen. you’re so soft when you love, so delicate with the ones who hold your affection, it’s too much for anyone to deserve. you’re laugh is like music, a melody that’s impossible to grow tired of. but the most important part? you look at everyone like they’re worth something—just for existing, just for being there with you and crossing your path. worth your time, and energy, and compassion. they never have to work for it.
it’s rare, finding someone like that. it’s even more rare to get them to fall in love with you—satoru has never stopped regretting letting that go.
he whispers that all through breathy moans and the occasional cracked sob. whimpers when your fingers lock into his hair and pull the strands when his swollen tip kisses that spot he never forgot how to find. you cum first, falling apart with a gasp—and he cums right after, like feeling you is what it takes to make him come undone.
you still do that thing you did—rubbing his back as he spills into you, soothing him as he pants harshly into your skin. the only difference is that you don’t kiss his head sweetly and call him yours. god, he misses that so, so badly.
when his body slumps over yours, it’s when it hits you, what you just did.
“oh no,” you breathe, “oh god. we….we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” you ask tiredly.
satoru’s lip is trembling—he can’t bear to have you regret him. not again.
“i love you,” he says desperately, “i…i never stopped.”
“obviously you didn’t love me enough,” you mumble, not looking at him. it’s something you’ve realized—looking satoru in his eyes makes you weak.
you can’t have that.
“i’ll love you more than enough now,” he promises.
“what if i say i don’t love you anymore, satoru?” you challenge, “it’s been years. i didn’t wait around for you.”
his breath shakes at that. you think you got him there, but apparently he’s determined. it shocks you.
“then i’ll love enough for the both of us.”
for a moment, you can’t help but think if only everyone could see him now. years later. gojo satoru begging you to let him love you hard enough that you don’t have to. being okay with half of you because that’s better than none of you.
it’s almost comical. maybe a little sad. entirely avoidable if he’d just been brave from the start.
“that’s not fair to you,” you sigh, “you’re an asshole but…but you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who can love you—”
“then i’ll show you,” he grabs your hand, pressing it to his face as he looks at you with enough hope that it’s almost too cruel to crush it. even for someone like him. “i’ll show you how to love me again. it’ll be easier this time. i promise.”
there’s a tear that slips down his cheek—and then another and another and another. and your thumb, just like muscle memory, swipes it away.
you want to tell him—it’s always been so, so easy to love satoru. easier than anything in the world. easier than loving yourself. it came like second nature, flowed through your blood stream and pumped through your heart. you loved him so easily.
you wish he’d loved himself a little bit easier back then. maybe he’d have realized who was worth keeping and who wasn’t. maybe he’d be happier now—a selfish part of you thinks you could’ve been happier that way too.
“satoru,” you sigh, “i have more self respect these days.”
“i know,” he nods, “i’ll be good—so good. i promise. i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and we can have three cats and i’ll pay for the vet visits. just like you always wanted.”
you can’t help but chuckle at that. he’s always known how to be charming at the right times.
“and what about the fancy window i always wanted?”
“i’ll get you one of those too,” he swears, “find us a nice place by the school and your job and we’ll be the best cat parents ever. and i’ll be good. so good.”
“i can’t do that all again,” you shake your head, “crying over someone like you is not worth it.”
“i won’t make you cry,” he insists.
something in you screams to believe him—that voice from your youth. that one that never quite stopped falling in love. that one that can’t ever really let him go.
“you don’t deserve me,” you mumble, pulling him close. he tucks his head into your neck, kisses your skin and breathes you in like he needs you to live.
maybe he does.
“i know,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i’ll make you love me again.”
“good luck,” you snort—your hand weaves into his hair, and your lips kiss his head.
well….maybe he’s already succeeded.
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unkreativstermensch · 7 months
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"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“
"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.
Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"
At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."
Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.
He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“
Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?
"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“
Eddie blinks. "What?“
"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“
Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-
Steve takes another step back.
"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“
Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"
"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“
Oh.
Oh no.
Eddie fucked up.
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tiredsadpeach · 1 year
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More lore about the friend that is mad at me
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pholla-jm · 18 days
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Heir
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IMAGINE: HEIR ~ SUKUNA X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: sukuna is a bit ooc. fem!reader. not proof read. set in the heian era. true form sukuna. ***************
If someone were to tell Sukuna that in some years that he would have a wife, he would laugh at them… and then kill them. 
But here he was, thinking about how his beautiful wife looked with a small bump on her tummy. It’s all he could think about really. Ever since he found out his wife is pregnant, his view of the world changed. 
Sure, he still thinks that humans were lowly disgusting vile, but the world seemed like a better place with you and his future child in it. 
His every day activities seemed a little less fun now, and all he thought about was getting back home to his wife. 
After a day full of people worshiping him and some killing, he made his way back to his castle. Where his wife should be patiently waiting for him. 
******** 
“What do you think you’re doing?” You hear the deep voice of your husband call out causing you to jump a little. 
He had found you in a different room. It was bare at first, but you were starting to add things to the room. 
You were working on a traditional crib for the baby, having different silks laid out in front of you to choose. 
It was a bit early to start getting ready for the baby, but you were too excited.
You turn to look at him. He towered over you, with his four arms crossed as he looked at you with a disappointed look. 
“I just want to make sure that the baby’s room is going to be perfect.” You say turning back to the silks. 
Sukuna hums, sitting down next to you while observing the objects in front of you. 
“How long have you been doing this?” You shrug, “not that long.” 
“You could always have the servants do this, you know? You shouldn’t be working so hard.” 
“Yeah, I know. I just feel like if I do this myself, it feels more special.” 
Sukuna breathes out a happy breath, leaning his chin on one of his fists. He knew that you would make a great mother. Someone that is nurturing, and he knows that his future son will be loved and taken care of. 
“Still, you should be taking care of yourself. It’s important that you and our son are completely healthy.” 
You perk up hearing the word ‘son’. “Son? It’s a bit too early to know the gender.” 
Sukuna just smirks, eyeing you up and down. “Trust me, I know it’s going to be a boy.” You laugh, “oh yeah? How so?”
He points at your belly, “It’s lower. A low stomach means it’s going to be a boy.” 
Your eyes widen and you look away from him in disbelief. “Where did you even hear that? I didn’t know you believed in old wives tales anyway.” 
“It’s not an old wives tale if it’s the current talk.” “The current talk? What, are you gossiping with the local ladies now?” You laugh at the idea of Sukuna gossiping causing him to frown. “Whatever woman. What they say is true.” “Okay, we’ll see.” 
"I don't want you working on this room by yourself anymore. I have to be here to help you, okay?" You nod your head, a bit happy that Sukuna came up with a quick compromise. "Sound good to me. You can do all the heavy lifting."
Sukuna nods, then points at one of the silks that are laid out in front of you. It was a darker colored one, something that you knew he would like. “This one. It’ll be great for our son.” 
You decide not to comment on the son thing again. With a smile, you pick it out and put it to the side.
Pushing your hands on the ground, you start to get up from the ground. “What are you doing?” “I have to use the bathroom.” You say. However, Sukuna gets up faster than you. He gently picks you up, carrying you bridal style. “I can walk by myself.” You tell him with a small smile. 
You appreciate that Sukuna doted on you like this, but you don’t know how long you would be able to babied like this. 
“When I’m around, you’re not doing a single thing. You understand?” 
With a content sigh, you relax in his arms. Head resting on his shoulder, hearing the faint sound of his heartbeat.
“Yes, my beloved, I understand.”
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the-boy-meets-evil · 1 month
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on second thought | jww
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(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)
pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.
authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone
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Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum. 
That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.
“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home. 
“No, I ate earlier,” he answers. 
“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.
“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says. 
“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say. 
“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees. 
“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.” 
This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo? 
“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.
“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer. 
Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.” 
The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure. 
“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.
“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.
“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble. 
“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.
“Uh, what?” you ask.
“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.” 
“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.” 
“Why not?” Wonwoo presses. 
“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious. 
“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks. 
“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.
“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.” 
There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill. 
Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear. 
And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.
“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles. 
“Pretend, sure,” he echoes. 
“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.
“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly. 
A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules. 
So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells. 
Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes. 
“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you. 
“Funny,” you say with an eye roll. 
Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.
“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.
“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.
You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either. 
“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything. 
It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve. 
You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters. 
It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out. 
He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you. 
Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.
Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs. 
With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.
“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine. 
“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy. 
He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before. 
“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.
He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. 
“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter. 
“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.
You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.
“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”
“Are you sure?” he asks. 
“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel.��
“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply. 
“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too. 
You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now. 
“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns. 
“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back. 
Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs. 
“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.
“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire. 
“I love it when you call me that,” he admits. 
With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust. 
You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you. 
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses. 
“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg. 
“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep. 
“Please,” you beg again. 
“Fuck,” he whispers. 
It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more. 
When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over. 
Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high. 
When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.
“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,”  you assure him
“Thank fuck,” he whispers. 
His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone. 
You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.
“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.
“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.
“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh. 
You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.” 
“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say. 
“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.
You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?” 
“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.
“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time. 
“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.
“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.
“Next time?” you wonder.
“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. 
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It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place. 
The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page. 
That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around. 
He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.
Until it doesn’t.
One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.
“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started. 
“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment. 
He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?” 
“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear. 
“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand. 
You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.” 
“Of course not,” he says. 
Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed. 
He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you. 
The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning. 
That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked. 
“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble. 
“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan. 
“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.
“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out. 
“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says. 
“I know,” you sigh. 
“So, what’s going on?” he asks. 
Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night. 
None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.
“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.” 
“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised. 
“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says. 
“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.
“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says. 
“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.
“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.
“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.
“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.
“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.
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It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited. 
There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird. 
“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts. 
“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?” 
He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?” 
“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say. 
He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.” 
“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.” 
“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.
“I just thought…” you start.
“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”
“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure. 
The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.
Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings. 
It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.
“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness. 
“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake. 
“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep. 
“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says. 
That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him. 
“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.
“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.
“Why should I?” you challenge. 
“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.
“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.” 
“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”
“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.
“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”
“To avoid me?” you supply. 
“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits. 
“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.” 
“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.
“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say. 
“About what?” he asks. 
“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say. 
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately. 
You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation. 
You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him. 
When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized. 
“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit. 
“What’s that?” he asks.
“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.
“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous. 
“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug. 
“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.
That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?” 
“I don’t know, a while,” he says. 
You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.” 
“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.” 
“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool. 
“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment. 
“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.
“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.
“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.” 
Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”
“Okay,” you agree.
“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.
“Yeah, we’re doing this.” 
Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural. 
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i hope you enjoyed it! 💕
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