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#and not showing your face to outsiders seems smart
angelll135444 · 1 day
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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE A PART 2 ON THE TEACHER TOM SMUT 😩
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A/n: of course!! I’m sorry this took me ages guys I haven’t had any motivation these past couple of days to write this :( it’s a little bit rushed and probably very choppy I’m sorry but I hope you guys enjoy mwah <3 he looks so good in that picture I would be making out with him right then and there tbh.
𝒩ℴ𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓃ℴ𝓌?𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 2 💋
warnings: dom!tom sub!freader degrading unprotected sex p in v Tom using handcuffs
MDNI!!
smut and fluff at the end!!
Read at your own risk.
A while later you and Tom grew very close always meeting up outside of school, he even started helping you out with some school work at his place. He started buying you cute gifts obviously your interactions stayed low during school, but if you ever showed up late he would absolutely teach you some manners. (screaming) but something was weird the more you and Tom got close you were falling for him it was wrong you couldn’t fall for your teacher could you?
During school you once again arrived late to class you were tired, “Look who finally decided to show up” you knew that voice anywhere, Tom was staring right at you grazing his tongue over his piercing that made you go crazy but you just walked over to your desk not even giving a smart ass remark back to him.
For the rest of the class you didn’t even pay attention not even looking at Tom his gaze was directly on you though. He knew something was up but didn’t know what exactly. Class was finally over you got your things, you were about to go till Tom grabbed your wrist he was about to speak but you pushed him away and left the room.
-time skip
It was the end of the day, you were leaving school you didn’t know what to think, till a car stopped beside you and to your surprise it was Tom he got out the car and opened the passenger side for you “Get in” his voice was firm and he didn’t look to happy. “No” you tried walking away but he pulled you towards him “Just get the fuck in” you didn’t wanna piss him off even more than you already have so you got in unwillingly.
The car ride was quiet the silence wasn’t nice either you could cut the tension with a knife, his jaw was clenched his eyes directly on the road. After what seemed forever you were arrived at his house. Tom got you out of the car dragging you inside “Fuck Tom can you let go of me” you tried letting he ignored you, pulling you with so much force you were about to fall over.
He dragged you all the way up to his room slamming the door shut behind you pushing you on the bed you were so confused on what was going on. Tom towered over you straddling your hips and pinning both of your arms above your head.
He leaned down his face inches away from yours “So you wanna explain why the fuck you’ve been avoiding me and being such a brat liebe” his voice was rough there wasn’t much light only the window but you could make out every single inch of him. You didn’t know what to say but you decided to keep quiet Tom snickered before pressing his lips to yours.
His lips matched perfectly with yours the way his metal piercing felt against your lips was amazing, you moaned into the kiss letting his tongue enter your mouth (didn’t know how to word it 😭) his hand made it’s way to your neck squeezing gently, you could feel his hard on pressing down onto your lower stomach making you gasp Tom eventually pulled away his salvia coating your red lips.
You tried moving and getting out of his grip but it was difficult “Fucking stay still” Tom grabbed something out of his desk draw he grabbed your wrists handcuffing them together. (oh my god.) He trailed wet kisses along your neck nipping and sucking at different spots across your neck, soft moans escaped your mouth. He moved his hands lower down towards your aching core and pressing his index finger against your clothed clit.
You moaned in response a smirk appeared on Tom’s face, Slowly he peeled off yours and his clothes I swear you got just go weak at the sight of him everything about this guy was perfect no wonder why you fell him. Your eyes moved downwards to his cock his tip leaking with pre-cum your breath caught in your throat he was big to take in. “Tom I-“ you were interrupted “Hush I’ll make it fit liebe” his voice was gentle but teasing.
Tom positioned himself between your legs, “Such a pretty fuckin’ sight Schatz” his gaze was directly on your wet cunt he could go pussy drunk (no cause he so would.) He carefully moved his tip against your entrance before you could even get time to adjust to his length he rammed his cock deep inside you filling you up completely, “Tom fuck!” you moaned out arching your back.
He pulled out half away before thrusting back into you with such force, Tom groaned “Fuck you feel s’good around me Schatz takin’ me so well like the pretty slut you are hm?” His voice was dripping with lust, you couldn’t give a proper answer only moans and whines escaping your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his body, His hand moved to your neck squeezing gently.
His pace quickened moving in different types of angles hitting your g spot directly again and again. Your moans grew louder and louder it was like music to Tom’s ears, the room smelt like sex sweat, your head was crashing against the headboard everytime he thrusted into you, your walls clenched around him you knew you were close, “T-Tom I’m gonna cum soon” you whine out.
“You think you deserve to cum hm after you’ve been such a brat?” he asked me “yes fuck please Tom” you moan out the knot in your stomach grew tighter with each thrust, he looked down at you his gaze almost memorising he leaned down and whispered “Then Cum for me Liebe” he pulled out completely before ramming into you hitting your g spot once again that’s all you needed, You threw your head back your legs shaking and cummed all over his cock “Jesus Fuck liebe!” He moans out his pace slows down a bit riding out his high.
You let out a shaky breath trying to gain back your senses, Tom grabs a towel cleaning you both up and he removes the handcuffs off your wrists. Placing a kiss on your forehead laying down next to you his arm draped around your waist “alright now can you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me Schatz” he asks slightly concerned. You turn to look at him your eyes a little bit glossy “I think I might have feelings for you and I know it might be wrong but-“ Tom pressed a kiss to your lips.
After a few seconds he pulled back he tilted your chin up rubbing your cheek “I couldn’t care if I was your teacher or not Miene Liebe I feel the exact same way about you.” You hugged him tightly feeling a sense of comfort that you didn’t have to worry anymore about how he felt you felt so safe in Tom’s embrace you layed in his arms falling asleep peacefully.
A/n:I HAD NO IDEA I COULD WRITE SO MUCH. I hope you guys enjoyed send me more requests guys mwahhhh bye cuties. <33
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Conrad deserves better than Belly. After he sees Jere and her kiss, he get his ass to Stanford and meet this cute and smart maybe tutor girl (Haley James style) and falls in love with her and then they show up at Jere's wedding years later and Belly is jelly
I've spent the last five days working on this one.
p.s. it's 2k words...
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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When Conrad finished his exam, he went back to Jeremiah and Belly. He was going to tell and confess his love to her before she had to get home, but when he got to his car, the scene Conrad walked on made him sick to his stomach: Belly and Jeremiah were full on making out against his car. He stopped short of the car and cleared his throat, causing the two to spring apart from their heated kiss and see Conrad looking right at them. 
Conrad’s face was white. He would rather have had someone shoot him in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly, than have to watch the two of them kissing.
He didn't know who he was more angry at. Belly, who, not even a day ago, had told him she would have fought harder for him if she knew he loved her that much. Or Jeremiah, who, although he knew how much Belly meant to his brother and how fucking in love he was with her, seized the opportunity to kiss Belly the moment he was alone with her.
‘’Conrad—’’ Belly started, guilt settling in her guts. 
He cut her off, his voice cold and cutting. ‘’I don’t want to hear it.’’ 
His gaze shifted from Belly to Jeremiah. There was so much hate in his eyes. How could Jere do that to him? They agreed to stop hiding things from each other and talk, but Jeremiah must have forgotten already. 
‘’You broke up with her, Con, remember? We did nothing wrong,’’ Jeremiah said, pulling facts in his favor to make himself feel better — less guilty — for kissing his brother’s ex.  
When Conrad kissed Belly on the beach last summer, he didn’t know she and Jeremiah were a thing — if he could call it that — or that he liked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed Belly or confessed his feelings to her. Had the situation had been in reverse, Conrad wasn’t sure Jeremiah would have backed off. 
‘’I’m done.’’ Conrad's voice was resolute, his heart heavy as he turned away, unable to bear the sight of them any longer.
Jeremiah moved to follow, calling out Conrad's name. He didn’t stop, needing to be as far as possible from the painful scene. His mind was racing with a jumble of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and a profound hurt gnawed at him. He had trusted both Belly and Jeremiah, yet they pulled this shit behind his back. 
‘’Why do you always have to act like that?’’ Jeremiah said as he quickened his pace to catch up. 
Finally, Conrad turned to face Jeremiah, his expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. ‘’You don’t get to tell me how to react, Jere. You kiss the girl I love outside my school, against my car while she’s wearing my sweatshirt. If you don’t see how disgusting and messed up it all sounds—’’
‘’She kissed me,’’ the younger one quickly defended. 
 Hearing this made him want to pack his bags, get his ass to stanford and focus on school. He needed to turn the Belly page, and in order to do that, he needed to be away from both she and Jeremiah. California seemed far enough, right?
*
The first days and weeks were tough for Conrad, struggling to accept the definite end of the relationship. She was still all over him like a wine-stained shirt he couldn’t wear anymore. 
He blocked both Belly and Jeremiah’ numbers. If he wanted to move on, he had to keep his distance from them. For a while, at least. Then, he deleted all the old pictures he kept of Belly on his phone. There was no going back for them anymore. 
He was done.
*
You met Conrad a little before Christmas break. Just like those cliché rom-coms, you walked right into him and spilled your chai latte all over his sweater. You wanted to break the cliché and not fall for the victim of your clumsiness, but after one look into those beautiful blue eyes, you knew it would be impossible. 
 After that day, you kept crossing paths around campus and, one afternoon, you asked him out. He was so surprised, but he said ‘yes’. 
Although you had sealed the end of the night with a few kisses, you decided to take things slow. You had a very busy schedule with the tutoring lessons on top of your regular program, and Conrad was unsure if it was too soon to get in another relationship, if he was ready for it. The scar Belly had left on his heart was healing, but was he ready to open his heart to someone again? 
‘’Have you ever been in love?’’ you asked one night in his dorm while studying. 
Your question had caught Conrad off guard. It was visible on his face. 
‘’Have you?’’ he returned, not taking his eyes off his textbook. 
He was trying to dodge the question. 
‘’I asked you first,’’ you said, seeing through his plan.
‘’Then yes.’’
‘’How many times?’’
‘’Once.’’
His answers were flat, annoyed he was by all your questions. He wished you would stop and get back to studying in silence, but you kept going. 
‘’On a scale of one to ten, how in love were you?’’
‘’You can’t put being in love on a scale,’’ he said, lifting his head with furrowed eyebrows. ‘’Either you are or you aren’t.’’
‘’But if you had to say.’’
Conrad started flipping through his notes. He hadn’t thought of Belly in months. He missed her — in a different way he used to. She was his friend before they got tangled into this mess.
He didn’t look at you when he finally said it. ‘’Ten.’’
*
The more time he spent in your presence, the more Conrad was — unknowingly — letting go of his past. 
The pictures he deleted months ago became pictures of you, filling his phone until there was no space left. The smell of your perfume lingered on some of his clothes and in his car. He had your coffee order memorized, along with your favorite study-break snack, which he made sure to have in stock in his dorm. 
You became part of his routine — part of his life —, brightening his days even on his darkest, saddest nights. 
He didn’t want to bother you, but nothing was calming the ache in his chest. He tried getting some air and smoking weed, he even thought of calling Laurel, but it was almost 2am in Pennsylvania. Conrad didn’t want to scare her. 
So he pulled up your contact and called, the weight of his grief still heavy in his heart, wishing Susannah was still there. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since she took her last breath. 
You were about to slip into bed when you saw his name flashing on your phone. You almost didn’t pick up, but you got a gut feeling that he needed you. 
When you opened your door, a saddened look was etched onto Conrad's face, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight pulled at your heart and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him for the whole night.
Supported each other through finals and all-nighters.
‘’Getting tired?’’ you said, catching him actively fighting against his own eyelids. 
Conrad shook his head, taking a long gulp of his coffee. ‘’No time for sleep. I have this huge exam first thing tomorrow and I still have a lot of chapters to cover.’’
‘’You can take a short nap if you want. I’ll wake you in thirty minutes,’’ you kindly offered, flipping through your notes for a specific annotation. 
‘’Nah, I’m good.’’ He flashed you a soft smile, then returned to his studying. 
A few minutes later, and you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's eyes had begun to droop. They would halfway close and then he would either blink a bunch of times, or widen his eyes until they were bug eyed. It was cute.
‘’Con? Conrad?’’ you called out gently. 
‘’I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes,’’ he mumbled defensively, fighting fatigue.
There was no way he was getting through the night, so you put your notes down and slipped on Conrad’s flannel shirt that was on the back of your chair to shield you from the night air. ‘’We’re gonna need more coffee.’’ 
As you came back with two fresh cups of coffee, you found Conrad fast asleep on your pillow, still clutching his pen.
And held his hand through the rainiest times — literally.
‘’Isn't California supposed to be the sunniest state?’’ Conrad asked, watching the downpour through the windshield, drenched from head to toe. ‘’The seats are all wet...’’ 
‘’You gotta learn to live with the consequences of your own actions, Connie baby.’’ 
It was his idea to get waffles when the sky was looking very gray and angry. He insisted that it would clear out, but a loud clap of thunder echoed on your way back to the car and rain started pouring. You took the road back to campus, but it got too dangerous, forcing Conrad to stop the car on the shoulder of the road and wait for the rain to calm. 
You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips, still the most beautiful to his eyes despite your wet hair and the slight smear of mascara under your eyes. 
 ‘’Rain happens everywhere. Even in the dryest desert,’’ you reminded him, pulling out your phone to check the weather app.‘’Unfortunately, this one isn't gonna stop anytime soon.’’
You toed off your sneakers, making Conrad draw his eyebrows.
‘’What are you doing?’’
‘’We’re gonna be here for a while.’’ You peeled off your hoodie — also wet from the rain —, leaving you in your skirt and dainty bralette. ‘’Might as well occupy ourselves,’’ you explained before leaning over the middle console and kissing him, fastening yourself to him with a stitch. 
The kiss took him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. He could spend hours kissing you and never get bored. 
You crawled over the console and on Conrad’s lap without breaking contact, your hands easily finding grip on his hair as you felt his hands all over your body, caressing and pulling. The windows were fogging quickly around you, creating a veil of privacy as more layers were peeled off.
Conrad once believed he had found love, that Belly was it for him, but the feelings he felt back then were nothing compared to how he felt right now. 
‘’You’re the best thing that happened to me,’’ he confessed, his forehead pressed against yours. 
*
The invitation came in a few weeks before the wedding. Conrad couldn’t believe his brother was going through with this. Everything was happening so fast and seemed rushed. Him and Belly weren’t even twenty. Who gets married so young anymore? 
He arrived in Cousins a few days prior to the wedding, surprising everyone — and stealing the attention from the soon-to-be-weds — when they saw a girl with him. 
The only person who knew exactly who you were was Steven. A few months ago, you had posted a picture with Conrad at the beach and tagged him, leading to Steven finding out about his friend’s new girlfriend. He was surprised when he saw it, but very happy for Conrad. He deserved better than someone who plays between two hearts. 
Laurel put down the table-center she was holding and went over to pull Conrad in a hug. She turned to you, making quick introductions, and Conrad held his breath. He’s always been close to Laurel and her approval meant more to him than his father’s or Jeremiah’s. 
While the two of you engaged into a conversation, he saw her. Belly. Dressed in a white sundress and talking to Taylor, she looked just the same. The only difference was, Conrad felt nothing. No pain, no old feelings rising back. 
For the first time, what’s past was past.
‘’Belly, come greet Connie and his girlfriend,’’ Laurel called out to her daughter. 
Although you had never met her, you could tell exactly who she was in the room — and not only because her dress was white. The jealousy filling her eyes when they fell on you gave her away.
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satoruhour · 9 months
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Need sukuna in racer au 😩
REWARDS FROM A RACER
a/n: more of smut than him being a racer …. im not opposed to doing a ‘how they met’ ngl
wc: 2.1k
warnings: ooc sukuna, dom!sukuna, lewd declarations in public, he’s a little mean and calls you ‘whore’, ‘slut’, praise, degradation, pet names, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (m! receiving), light face-fucking, unprotected sex, riding, p → v penetration, clit stimulation, dash of daddy kink, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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“doll, c’mon, we don’t have much time till the race starts.” 
“i know, ’kuna! give me a minute, ’m just tightening the screws on the crankshaft.” you already hear the joke from miles away, a soft chuckle comes after he mumbles “heh, shaft” and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while stifling a smile. it seems like sukuna had enough of waiting for you in the driver’s seat, so he meets you at the front of the car where the hood is popped.
if anyone told you sukuna was someone who would’ve made time for anyone else but himself, you would laugh in their face because when had ryomen “king of curses” sukuna ever thought about anyone but himself? he had all that he could have: a ’66 Ford GT40 (that he named king of curses — a tad bit goofy, he knows), girls on his arm, first place for every race he took part in. he was untouchable.
but during a night in the midst of a drag race he saw you outside a club, barely catching a glimpse of you shoving off a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. he wasn’t surprised to see kenjaku — another racer from another region and someone who he had an infamous rival with — laugh when he had come to your rescue, cut off when the king of curses landed a clean hit to the other’s face. sukuna made sure you were okay after the whole debacle, but he also fucked you silly to show you how a man should really be treating you.
it was the only race he ever lost.
“sometimes i forget how much shit you put up with when you’re with me,” sukuna grins, a sneaky hand moving from your waist to your ass to squeeze it, “fixing my engine like an obedient little girl.”
you simply turn to him with a bored expression, but you can’t deny the throb between your legs when he talks to you like that, “glad you’re self aware, ’kuna.”
“smart mouth you have there, hm?” sukuna pulls you even closer against his front and you can already feel the half-hard bulge there. he’s always hard before a race, too. that you know, because it’s an emerging characteristic of his that you’re not opposed to because sukuna ends up pounding into you in his driver’s seat once the race is finished. he just can’t help the adrenaline, can’t he?
“guess i’ll just have to ruin you,” sukuna cuts off your next reply with a messy kiss, swallowing the soft moans that leave your mouth at the temporary relief you’re getting from grinding on him, “later.”
you scoff, feigning annoyance, “yeah, yeah, i know. you never miss a race.”
sukuna just smiles, smacking your ass slyly and makes his way to the driver’s seat before you have time to gasp, simply raising an eyebrow (“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?”) when you slap his chest later in the passenger seat.
“oh god, he’s going to do that thing again right?” beside you are the other more prominent racers of tokyo, the famous four excluding sukuna. gojo is the one who asked the question, nudging you with a grin that’s got you groaning into your hands. slowly, you nod.
across from you is sukuna in his Ford GT40, shouting with his windows rolled down, “i’m gonna fuck you so good after i win this race, princess!” and while you’re turned on at the prospect, you’re also wincing at how everyone whoops and cheers because he does this in every race. it never gets old, though, just as the laughter of the other four floods your ears.
“do you really have to scream it every time?” you lean down to the window once the two cars are at the starting line, running a hand through his mildly sweaty locks. his perspiration is a little pink from the dye he’s used to top up the colour of his hair and you jokingly wipe your wet hands on his top.
sukuna grabs your wrist, pulling you gently to give you a noisy, sloppy kiss, his words whispered against your lips, “they have to know how you scream every night.”
you tsk with a laugh, hand reaching down to palm his dick that makes him grunt, “give ’em hell, baby.”
and he definitely makes the other wish he never was born. sukuna likes to play dirty, bumping into the rear of the other when he’s behind, sending a middle finger to the racer when he passes him, it’s part of why your boyfriend tends to prefer solitude because he’s not on everyone’s good side.
with skidding tires, sukuna finishes with a dashing grin, but he’s so focused on you that he doesn’t realise the crowd around him, some reaching forward to congratulate him, others wanting to touch his car. the racer barks out before anyone can violate his ride.
“oi, you fuckin’ idiots dare touch my car and i swear i’ll fuck up yours.”
beside you, geto mutters out a yeesh while gojo just giggles, patting your shoulder before you bid goodbye to the famous four. the crowd makes way for you, naturally, when you walk towards his car, because what kind of mental person willingly dates sukuna? they follow your figure as you make your way to him, swaying your hips for everyone to see, but you hardly care when all you can fixate on is his promise to you before every race starts.
and all he does that night is fulfil his promise, whisking you away from the cramped parking lot and into the late tokyo roads, whizzing past street lamps and cop cars and howling at the top of his voice. he loves it, he loves you and you see it every time he drives you home after a late night race and every time he noisily drives up to you when someone’s bothering you.
sukuna loves your body, too, because all you know later on is his cock in your mouth on a quiet, remote mountain used for drifting. with the winter season approaching, it was desolate, except for the way your head bobs up and down on his length, which hardens even more inside your mouth.
“that’s it, fuckkk yes.” sukuna groans, a hand clutching onto the leather of his seat while the other finds purchase in your hair, pulling on your locks till it hurts. with his hips moving erratically paired with the soreness in your jaw, it’s really the only thing you can concentrate on in an awkward position while hovering over the stick shift. “suck like the dirty cockslut you are.”
“’kuna, mmfhh—!” your hands rush to find his thighs on a particularly deep thrust, tip hitting the back of your throat and you look up at sukuna through teary lashes and breathe through your nose before he lets you off briefly. but your mouth is too warm just like how your pussy feels and sukuna forces your head onto him again.
sukuna groans when he lets you do your own thing, mouth taking half of him while your hands help you with the other, alternating between taking sucking the bottom of his cock and lapping at his tip, continuing to flutter your lashes at him.
“stick out your tongue f’me, doll,” he manages to choke out a moan, grabbing his cock to slap it on your tongue (it’s so heavy that you moan), making lewd sounds before he starts thrusting again, feeling every inch of your mouth with no time to warn you of his impending orgasm until the car is filled with his incessant groans and grunts, hips faltering at how your mouth just keeps sucking. “fuck— i’m cumming.” sukuna spills unexpectedly, shooting his cum deep down your throat and you moan around his shaft. he’s not laughing now, focused solely on getting every last bit of cum into your system as he tilts his head back in utmost pleasure. 
“take all of it,” his movements slow down, admiring how you look like you worship him with a lax mouth and pleading eyes, and he knows you do, but before that he’s ensuring you know that his worship of you overtakes yours by miles, pulling you impatiently to his seat before dragging your panties to the side. the other likes it when you wear skirts, easy access he says, licking his lips in anticipation when he sees how the fabric sticks to your cunt from how wet you were, leaving a string of arousal that snaps once it’s far enough.
“well? what’re you waiting for?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle leaving him when you mumble out a i’m getting to it! as you gather the slick leaking from your needy pussy. the feel of his mushroom tip against your clit is gratifying and you line him up before sinking down slowly. even after taking him multiple times, his size always makes your eyes widen and jaw drop at the stretch, incoherent whimpers leaving as he watches you take all nine inches of him.
“s’kuna, f-fuck…” you wrap your arms around his neck, suddenly shy at being so spread open for him to see, “s’big, you’re so big!” he hums, pressing little kisses down the side of your face while kneading your ass, plush thighs nestled around his pelvis so cutely that he appreciates your brief pause before you start riding him — because he can’t resist cumming when he sees you crying on top of him, trying his best to prolong the way you feel around him.
“i know i’m big, but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?” sukuna coos, holding your eyes that struggle to stay open as you bounce on his thick cock, ass meeting his hips in noisy pap’s as you flood his car with whining pleas of him filling you to the brim. there’s a white ring of pre-cum at the base of his shaft where your juices mix, dripping down the hilt and onto his balls, definitely soaking his leather seats. “just a whore for me to fuck stupid, yea?”
you nod frantically, babbling to no one as you throw your head back, pussy clenching when his lips meet your tits and he sucks hard on your nipples, flicking his tongue around your buds before moving to the other. “got so t-tight from me doing that,” sukuna laughs, wrapping a hand ’round your chin to force you to look at him. lips pursed, eyes blown wide from his cock in your cunt, hair sticking to your forehead, he swear he could cum deep in you right there and then.
“you love how i stretch you out?” he then yanks your head down to make you watch how your pelvis meets his, juices spurting in all directions by how wet you were. it truly was a sight, how his cock disappears into you and reappears, thighs burning from how fast you were bouncing on him.
“love it s’much, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you grab his free hand, bringing it to your neglected clit that’s been throbbing all night, “but i n-need you here, s’kuna…” and when he starts to rub circles into your puffy clit, you jolt at the feeling, screaming out obscenities at the sensations that overwhelm your body. he knows you’re getting tired and close, too.
so he shocks you by thrusting up, your body immediately halting to receive the way he rails into you and while your muscles are still cramping, it’s infinitely better than riding him. with his thrusts and his hand on your clit, you can already feel the coil in your stomach turning as your body slumps against him, “daddy!”’s spilling from your lips with mixed wanton moans. “that’s it, a good little slut who’s taking daddy’s cock, fuck—”
“so warm, and tight,” within seconds, his thrusts are irregular when you start to clench around him again, high-pitched whines filling his ears before you reach your high with a slack jaw and trembling thighs, body lined with sweat. but it’s the way your cum leaks down his length that gets sukuna releasing after you, the familiar pleas of wanting his cum deep in your cunt. he does just that, grunting into your neck when his hips thrust deeply before he releases his hot, thick semen into your pussy, gushing out because there’s just so much.
“love it when i breed my girl,” he mutters with a laugh breathlessly while you’re moaning softly at how he’s still spilling into you, overflowing cum leaking from your cunt even when he’s still inside. sukuna grins when your hips never really stop, still continuing to grind aimlessly.
“love my sweet girl who can’t think of anything but getting fucked stupid.”
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4K notes · View notes
rrairey · 2 months
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"....you've been staring at them for a good ten minutes now-"
Gojo reluctantly drew his eyes away from your form, and focused on Geto with a glare, feeling the knowing glance of the others burning into his skin.
"It's just that they're so pretty, so kind, so lovingly annoying, but. I'm. Not. Her. Type."
"i'm annoying, don't get me wrong i'm extraordinarily handsome, and i have abs, but i'm annoying, act like child, kinda stupid, and ugh."
With every word, Gojo stabbed a lead hole into his pure white paper, muttering curses under his breath as Geto didn't even bother hiding his smile.
"Yo, Y/N!"
"Suguru what the fuck are you doing why is she coming over what ARE YOU DOING"
Clearing his throat and desperately combing his fingers through his white hair, he put on his best smirk, then immediately dropped it because he just eaten a chocolate and he was pretty sure that it was showing on his teeth-
And kicked Geto under the table, giving you a small acknowledgement, mentally fainting as you gave him a grin back, thousands of words swirling around in his head.
"This is a random question, but what's your type?"
Gojo narrowed his eyes underneath his sunglasses, this time kicking Geto in the shin, with you sitting down next to Gojo, your hand brushing his for a second too long-
And on the outside Gojo seemed fine. Chill.
But on the inside he was screaming, throwing things at the wall and replaying the feeling of your touch.
"Someone who's insufferably annoying, good-looking, blue eyes that pierce through your soul, nice, kinda smart but extremely oblivious..."
'oh.'
Gojo looked up to meet your e/c eyes, a small smile lifting up his face as you smirked back at him.
"What about you 'Toru?"
'tiuroituo.IUOIUOIOITUOIURIOUTOIRT THEIR SO EOROUERHJH'
"Someone who's kind. Sassy, who is completely unaware of their beauty and the effect they have on others-"
"Someone I'd love with my heart and soul, someone who can love me back."
You grin at him, poking his nose with a teasing look in your eyes as you stand up, tapping your phone as you push your chair in.
"I have to go, but I'll talk to you later! Thanks, Suguru!"
Geto grinned as you walked away, with Gojo gazing after you with a gaze of love-struck gaze, only to dramatically sigh and rest his head on the table.
"They're in love with someone, huh?"
Geto nodded, mentally preparing that Gojo would finally see the truth, just as Gojo muttered-
"I wish that someone was me."
"GOD, SATORU WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID????"
3K notes · View notes
incognit0slut · 6 months
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BATTLE SCARS
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Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist
What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.
sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming
words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)
a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me
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"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."
Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.
One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.
One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?
And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?
"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"
The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"
"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 
Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.
Huh.
So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?
"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."
Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"
"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."
He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.
"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."
Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."
You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.
Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?
When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.
Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."
"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."
"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."
He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."
"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.
You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.
Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.
The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.
You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.
You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."
His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.
So it really was about you.
His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"
Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"
He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.
"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.
"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.
You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.
His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.
The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.
A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.
Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.
He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.
"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.
A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.
But sleep didn't want you.
About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.
He hummed in response.
"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.
He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 
"Anything."
"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."
From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"
"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."
Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."
With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."
He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"
You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.
There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.
"Y-Your scar."
You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"
His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."
Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.
As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.
"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."
His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"
You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."
Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"
You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."
He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"
"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."
Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"
He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."
He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."
You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"
His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.
Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.
"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"
His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.
"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.
Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.
You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.
"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."
A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.
"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."
You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"
You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.
"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"
Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.
"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."
"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."
Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.
You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.
You smiled.
Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.
"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.
"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."
It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?
You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.
"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.
"You're.... you're more pretty."
You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"
He shook his head.
"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”
The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."
"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."
"Good."
You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.
Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.
"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.
You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.
You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.
"Do you want to taste me?"
He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."
You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.
"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.
You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."
You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.
A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.
"Who said you could touch yourself?"
His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.
“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.
"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."
You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.
"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.
You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.
"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.
You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.
It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.
"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.
“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."
He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.
"Keep your eyes on me."
He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.
You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.
Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.
"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"
He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.
You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.
"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.
And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.
You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"
"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."
You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."
The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."
Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.
"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.
For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"
You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"
"I-I..."
"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"
"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 
You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."
"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.
You smiled.
"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.
He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.
Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.
"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.
You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."
His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.
You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.
"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"
His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.
That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.
The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.
Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.
You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.
Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.
"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.
The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.
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starlight-starwrites · 3 months
Text
a dozen tiny suns
astarion x bard!elf!reader
summary: after the battle for baldur's gate, you and astarion have settled into a new routine in your old home. nocturnal life isn't easy, and you come up with a surprise for him to have a little sunlight. wc: 1.4k warnings: oh boy i got fluffy note: written for the BG3 holiday challenge twinkling lights prompt! reader is not described or named, but is an elf bard for context (a little magic for our favorite vampire)
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“Darling, the sun’s down,” you shuffle over to the four-poster bed, flopping on the side with the open curtains. “Astarion, love?”
Darkness has fallen outside, and the few lamps lit in your apartment barely penetrate the canopy you’ve made of your bed. The mass of blankets move slightly at your intrusion, the only sign that Astarion really is in here. You catch sight of light on white hair, and you reach to pull the heavy quilt away.
“Darling, did you hear me? The sun’s gone downnn,” you sing.
He doesn’t open his eyes. His only acknowledgment is a wrinkled nose as he nestles further into the pillow. You stretch, crawling on your stomach to get close enough to press a kiss to his bare shoulder.
The action seems to appease him, his expression a pout instead. “Mmph, it’s much too early for that. Come back to bed.” You ignore him, gently pulling away the blankets before he really wakes up. One eye cracks open, and you’re fixed by his red gaze. “What are you doing? Why are you dressed?”
“It’s time to get up, you’ll waste the night.” You still can’t help but smile at the way his nose wrinkles.
“Night is not for hours.”
“Night, evening,” you wave a hand, “It’s winter, love. The sun sets earlier, so we can get up earlier. Now come on, I want to show you something.”
Astarion usually wasn’t one to laze in bed, often taking advantage of the daylight hours as well as the night. These last few months completely free of the horrors, masters, and tadpoles that haunted you since leaving Baldur’s Gate did wonders for him. His newfound freedom was only limited by the rise of the sun, and even that he rebelled against. The new curtains blanketed your rooms in darkness to accommodate him, but you often caught him pulling them back to let in a patch of light. You half expected to find him one day lying in the sunlight like a cat, if not for the fact he was still very much a vampire.
You poke a finger into his arm. “Did I really tire you out that much this morning? And here I thought you were indomitable—yeeeep!”
He’s fast. One second he’s face down and curled around the pillow, and the next he’s snatching your hand to yank you under him.
“No, no, noooo!” You wiggle, but he’s smart and he knows you. He has you pinned.
“I will smoother you, darling. Don’t doubt me again.”
You pout. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He hums, pleased, and starts to get comfortable, his nose to the column of your throat. You shift again. “No, don’t you dare, you have to get up.”
“Why?”
“I have a surprise for you.”
“I hate surprises.”
You laugh, hand coming to weave fingers through his hair and give a little tug. “You love my surprises. It won’t last forever. Now come on.” A second tug and his eye opens again, accompanied by a raised brow. You lean forward to press a kiss to his nose, and just like that, you slip from his grasp.
He grumbles about it, but his complaining has long since become background noise to you. It takes him a minute to rise, pulling apart the curtains on his side of the bed and stumbling out. You wait, nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet as he pulls on a robe.
“What is it?” he asks, and though he tries to sound indifferent, you can hear his curiosity.
“Do you really want me to tell you, or would you rather see it for yourself?” you ask as you slowly back to the balcony doors.
“It’s outside?” He acts put-out, but he fastens his robe quickly without hesitating to follow you. “What in the hells are you up to?”
He squints, amused now at your excitement, and when you hold out your arms, his hands take hold of yours like they have a hundred times before.
“Just…come see,” you say softly.
The balcony of your apartments isn’t large—a space for your old chair and table, and now a new lounge right beside them. Overlooking the street, the other new addition balances along the railing: night-blooming flowers grow tall, offering slightly more privacy than you had before.
In between, there was enough space for you to stand with your love. Dance, even, when you could convince him.
It was there you had arranged your little surprise, smooth rope running above your heads. It had taken longer than you wanted to admit, fastening each one from roof to roof, making sure that they would hold. Almost as long as it took to create the enchantment that holds Astarion’s attention now.
You smile at him even though his gaze is far from you. You step backwards slowly, pulling him along. His wide eyes dart above, taking it in, the hand you hold stretched in front of him. You like the way his fangs poke out with the gape of his mouth. You love the way you seem to have stolen all words from him.
Winter night air nips at your skin, but between watching him and the faint heat radiating from your enchantment, you barely notice.
The orbs had fit perfectly in the palm of your hand as you whispered your incantations, and now they hung like a dozen tiny suns above your heads.
The warm glow from the light was meant to mimic the sun itself, albeit in a much smaller and less powerful form. You let Astarion’s hand slip from yours as he turned to face each of them, let him wonder at the lights that shone on his bed-tousled hair.
“You did this?” There’s awe in his voice, though it’s careful. Perhaps not quite believing, not quite willing to reveal himself. The red of his eyes seems softer, almost orange in the light, and he looks over your decoration once more before his gaze falls to you.
You nod, smile hopeful. “I had help,” you admit, “I wanted to make sure that the spell would cause no damage—” you gesture to Astarion, “for obvious reasons. It’s meant to mimic Daylight, but in truth the incantation is closer to what I do for Dancing Lights. Just…obviously not dancing,” you laugh, “the light moves within, I don’t know, a little shield?”
It’s you who looks away this time, eyes up as you call to one of the orbs. It drifts down, and you cup it in your hands, holding it between you and Astarion. It warms your skin, brighter now that it’s so close. You have to look away.
You find him staring at you.
His hands brush over yours as he takes a step closer, the light held within your palms, your hands held within his.
He’s beautiful.
It reminds you of all the little moments on your adventures, ones that didn’t seem so significant at the time. You remember how he stood in the sun, that morning after in the woods. You remember how he laughed in camp, faced tilted up to the bright sky as you teased him over breakfast. You remember how he stared in wonder at the colorful streets of Baldur’s Gate, both weirdly relieved to be home.
“I know you miss the sun.”
His hands tighten around yours, and you watch his face as he takes hold of the orb. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t wince, doesn’t burn. His brows raise, eyes big as he looks again from the warm light he holds to you.
“I…thank you.”
The rays from the enchantment seem stronger somehow, blazing light between strands of his hair, clearing all shadows from his face. Your other tiny suns still above you act like a halo around him.
You could almost believe the two of you stood under the real sun.
You open your mouth to respond, to wave away the gift, tell him he deserves more, deserves better. To remind him that as long as you’re together, you’ll take care of him. That you can still find another solution.
Instead, Astarion drops the orb. Though neither of you look to it, it stays floating in the space between your chests. His hands, no longer cold, come to cup your face, and his fingers trail up to the tips of your ears. You find yourself mirroring his movements, his cheeks in your palms, the edge of his pink ears under your fingertips.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
He kisses you.
And it’s warm, and it’s bright, and it feels like sunlight.
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mattandmilds · 1 month
Text
Prick!
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matt x fem! reader
warnings: none
a/n: one of these days i'll make this blog pretty with a theme & masterpost. i've been on here for years with many blogs & have yet to find the will to actually do it lmao.
*this is another cross fic:)*
⋆。°✩
You’re under your blankets, a YouTube video playing from your laptop when you hear it. A rhythmic knock at your apartment door.
A spoonful of ice cream sits in your mouth when you freeze. You furrow your eyebrows and glance at the time on your laptop. 
It's midnight, and last time you checked, none of your friends had mentioned stopping by. 
The knocking continues, and you almost consider calling Matt out of fear, when it abruptly stops. Your phone chimes with a text a second later. 
matty b: open the fucking door
You grin and sit up with the spoon still between your lips. 
You: u have a fuckin key an im not gettin out of bed
You swear you can hear muttered curses from outside the door, then a bag drop. 
matty b: fucking prick 
A few minutes pass, and the door clicks open. You hear Matt close and lock it, then the sound of your fridge opening. You go in for another scoop of ice cream and start bouncing in place when shuffling is heard coming down the hallway.
You can hardly conceal your giddiness, the closer he gets. You haven’t seen your boyfriend in just over a week. He’d spent it with his brothers pre-filming content for the next few weeks. So to say that you were feigning to see him would be an understatement. 
Just as you place your spoon into the bowl, your bedroom door swings open and there he stands. 
Backpack slung over his shoulder, and his hair a bit damp from what you assume is from a shower. He looks at you, trying to look irritated, but there’s a smile under it. In fact, it wants to show out so strongly, that he turns around, takes a deep breath then faces you again.
You burst into laughter, and it’s then he can’t pretend anymore. He grins an eye-crinkling smile, and he drops his bag on the carpet.  
“You’re such a prick for making me dig for my keys.” He starts, kicking off his Crocs, and tugging off his hoodie. 
“Ah yes, I think I read something like that in the text you sent me.” You shrug, placing your bowl and laptop on your nightstand, knowing what's about to come. Matt nods his head and sucks his teeth. 
“Mhm, so since you wanna be a smart ass, you know what’s coming right?” He closes your bedroom door and gets into a running position. You scurry over to the middle of the bed. 
“Matthew I swear.” You warn. It falls on deaf ears.
“Too late.” Then he breaks off into a mini-sprint and lunges himself onto your bed. He makes sure to land softly, but sturdy. Landing right on top of you. You scream in pure happiness when your arms automatically spring out and wrap around him. You lock your legs around his waist and cling to him. He starts laughing with you, as he pulls his head up, and you melt.
He looks youthful. Happy. Content. Your laughs turn to giggles and eventually fade into silence. You can’t help but admire him in this state. He looks absolutely beautiful, and you can’t believe he’s all yours. 
You unwrap your arms from his neck and cup his face. His laughs slow to a stop. He’s looking at you, eyebrows creased at the sudden change in atmosphere. He sees the faraway look in your eyes, they almost seem to be glazed over and glimmering. You swipe your thumb over his cheekbone, and Matt shuts his eyes. 
“You’re beautiful Matthew.” His eyes open,  and you lift a hand to his hair; raking it back before settling on his cheek again.
“I love you so much.” You breathe. 
The air around the two of you gets warm. Feels heavy, but in a way of comfort, and Matt’s lips slightly part. He breathes out a laugh of disbelief, and looks off to the side, shaking his head. 
“What did I do to deserve you.” Before you can reply, Matt swoops down and places his lips on yours. It takes you by surprise, but it doesn't take you long to recover. You kiss him back with fever. With intention, purpose.
It’s sweet. It’s languid, and it’s home. 
You bring a hand up behind his neck and push him in deeper. There’s nothing sloppy or obscene about it. It’s intimate; a moment reserved only for you and Matt. You could spend a lifetime kissing him. Having him wrapped in your embrace. This is worth everything to you. 
To your dismay, he pulls away from you and gently brushes his lips over yours. He kisses down your jaw, to your neck, then ends his trail on your shoulder. 
On his way down he mumbles sweet nothings, expressing his love and admiration for you after each kiss. You have to keep yourself from drowning under it all. It doesn’t take much for you to want to be completely and utterly consumed by him. By everything that makes Matthew, Matthew. 
He pulls back, and your hand goes right back to his face. Nails scratching his beard, and Matt sighs. 
You unwrap your legs from his waist, and maneuver yourselves under the comforter. Matt still lies on top of you, now in between your legs, head on your chest. You have him held secure in your arms, as he traces patterns on your hipbone. Now and then softly snapping the fabric of your panties against it. 
He leans down to place a tender kiss on your skin, then lifts to leave one more on your lips. It’s soft and weighted. You have to fight the urge to keep him there. 
His body melts into yours when he goes back to your chest. Heartbeat beginning to slow and step into rhythm with yours. The soft scratching of your nails in his hair, your fingertips dipping inside his shirt to rub at the top of his back, work together to lull him to sleep.
It’s all so warm. 
Whatever was weighing on his shoulders. Whatever was plaguing his mind. Whatever was being said about him, it’s all burned. Burned away by the warmth only you seem to emit. It comes from your lips when you kiss him. It comes from your arms when you hold him. And it comes from your eyes when you look at him as if he’s the sun and stars. And it’s all for him. 
“I love you too.” He mumbles, leaning up to leave a kiss on the underside of your chin. 
922 notes · View notes
huhniebowl · 8 months
Note
could u do a morning/night cuddling with dom blurb/oneshot ?? him just being super clingy and soft
hi:) thank u for requesting, & thank u even more for ur paitence! this is a bit short, but sweet. and as always i seemed to have taken a sappier route. i do hope u love this, but please feel free to message me if this wasn't up to ur liking, i have no problem catering to u<3
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¥
You’re fresh out of the shower, and dressed for bed when you hear it.
A rhythmic knock at your apartment door. A spoon full of ice cream sits frozen in your mouth, and you still in your bed. You furrow your eyebrows and glance at the clock. It's 12 am, and last time you checked, none of your friends had mentioned stopping by. 
At the same time the knocking stops, your phone chimes with a text. 
Dom: open the fucking door
You grin and sit up, spoon still between your lips. 
You: U have a fuckin key 
You: Use it 
You: I'm not gettin out of bed
You swear you can hear muttered curses from outside, and a bag drop. 
Dom: fucking prick 
A few minutes pass, and the door opens. You hear him close and lock it, then the sound of your fridge opening.
You go in for another scoop of ice cream, a smile big on your face when shuffling is heard coming down the hallway. You can hardly conceal your giddiness.
You haven’t seen your boyfriend in just over a week, he had a week-long studio session with Kenny. So to say that you were feigning to see him again would be an understatement. 
Just as you pull your spoon from your lips, your bedroom door swings open and there he stands. 
Backpack slung over his shoulder, and his hair a bit damp from what you assume is from a shower.
He looks at you, trying to look irritated, but there’s a smile under it. In fact, it wants to show out so badly, that Dominic turns around, takes a deep breath then faces you again.
You burst into laughter, and it’s then he can’t pretend anymore. He grins so big his eyes start to crinkle, and he drops his bag to the floor.  
“You’re such a prick for making me dig for my keys.” He starts, kicking off his Crocs, and tugging off his hoodie. 
“Ah yes, I think I read something like that in the text you sent me.” You shrug, placing your bowl and spoon on your nightstand, knowing what's about to come.
Dominic nods his head and sucks his teeth. 
“Mhm, so since you wanna be smart, you know what’s coming right?” He closes your bedroom door and gets into a running position. Your grin has yet to wipe off your face, and you scurry over to your side of the bed. 
“Dom I swear.” You start, it’s a fake warning. You know it, and he does too.
“Too late.” Then he breaks off into a mini-sprint and lunges himself onto your bed. He makes sure to land softly, but sturdy. Landing right on top of you.
You scream and your arms automatically spring out and wrap around him. You lock your legs around his waist and cling to him like a koala. He laughs with you, pulling his head up to tilt it back, and you melt.
He looks youthful. Happy. Content. You’re own laughing slows, and eventually fades out. You can’t help but admire him in this state. He looks absolutely beautiful, and you can’t believe he’s all yours. 
You unwrap your arms from his neck and bring your hands up to cup his face. It’s then his laughs simmer down. He’s looking at you, eyebrows furrowed at the sudden change in atmosphere. He sees the faraway look in your eyes, they almost seem to be glazed over and glimmering. You swipe your thumb over the apple on his cheek, and Dom softly smiles. 
“You’re beautiful Dominic.” You lift a hand up from his face to his hair; raking it back before settling back on his cheek. “I love you so much.” You breathe. 
The air around the two of you gets warm. Feels heavy, but in the way of comfort. His lips slightly part. He breathes out a laugh, and looks off to the side, shaking his head. 
“God, what did I do to deserve you.” Before you can reply, Dom leans down and places his lips on yours. You gasp, but it doesn't take you long to recover. You kiss him back with fever, you press back with intention and pressure. It’s sweet. It’s languid, and it’s home. 
You bring a hand up behind his neck and press him in deeper. There’s nothing sloppy or obscene about it. It’s intimate; a moment reserved only for you and Dominic. You could spend a lifetime kissing him. Having him wrapped in your embrace. This is worth everything to you. 
To your dismay, he pulls away from your lips and just brushes his over yours gently. He kisses down your jaw, to your neck, then ends his trail on your shoulder.
On his way down he mumbles sweet nothings, expressing his love and admiration for you after each kiss. You have to keep yourself from drowning under it all. It doesn’t take much for you to want to be completely consumed by him. By everything that makes Dominic, Dominic. 
He pulls back, and your hand goes right back to his face. Both your thumbs swipe at the x’s on his lids, and Dom sighs. 
You unwrap your legs from his waist, and you maneuver yourselves under the comforter. Dom still lies on top of you, now in between your legs, head on your chest. You have him held secure in your arms, as he traces patterns on your hipbone.
Every now and then softly snapping the fabric of your panties against it. He leans down to place a tender kiss on your skin, then lifts up to leave one more kiss on your lips. It’s soft and heavy. You have to fight the urge to keep him there. 
You feel his body melt into yours, when he goes back to your chest. His heartbeat begins to slow, stepping into rhythm with yours.
The soft scratching of your nails in his hair, your fingertips dipping inside the top of his shirt to rub at his back. It’s all so warm. 
Whatever was weighing on his shoulders. Whatever was plaguing his mind. Whatever was being said about him, draining his mental and will to succeed in his work. It’s all burned.
Burned away by the warmth only you seem to emit. It comes from your lips when you kiss him. It comes from your arms when you hold him. And it comes from your eyes when you look at him as if he’s the sun and stars. And it’s all for him. 
“I love you too.” He mumbles, leaning up to leave a kiss on the underside of your chin. 
1K notes · View notes
omlhyck · 3 months
Text
around the corner
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pairing. childhood bestfriend!jaehyun x rich!reader
genre. angst, fluff
w.c. 11k+
summary. when you moved away, jaehyun doesn’t remember what it was like without you around. he swears he’ll see you again. it’s been eleven years and jaehyun finally gets his chance. only problem is he doesn’t know if you remember him.
the only explanation i can give for this is that i’m just an academic weapon trying to find non academic things to do on break. this is not proof read and kind of cringe i think. it was a pain in the ass to write. i think the tenses are all over the place too but its okay.
The sun shot its beaming rays that day, the sky so clear and blue, the clouds as fluffy as Mr. Myung's cotton candy. The day was hot. As hot as the sweet potatoes Mrs. Hwang sold.
School... was in session.
Jaehyun’s always had a bright mind. Albeit a little slow sometimes, he was smart and when the last section of the class was to write the word 'dinosaur he couldn't help his mind from swaying.
From big and heavy triceratops and the horned stegosauruses to the quick and agile velociraptors. He let his mind wander through clouds of his imaginations filled with them thus eventually letting his hands express themselves too. Giddily drawing the dinosaur of his choosing. Excited, he was.
Alas, when the class were asked to put their work up so the teacher could inspect, Jaehyun’s body shuddered when the teacher gave him a glare. It was then he realized he wasn't supposed to do that.
He heard the loud laughter of everyone in the class as he made his way to the bench outside the classroom as punishment. Jaehyun sat and sighed but hey, at least his dinosaur looked extremely cool.
Not a second later, another class door opened and slammed closed. You walked out mumbling angry whispers, sitting down arms crossed with an imminent frown beside him, landing your bottom down harshly he wondered if it hurt.
He looked at you still, bewildered and eyes wide filled with utmost curiosity. It wasn't long before you reciprocated his contact. With your eyes staring at him intently, you needn't question him before he scrambles to show his drawing of the dinosaur.
He eyes your face, seeing your eyes widen before you quickly put your paper up to show him too. A pterodactyl. He lets out a woah. Just as he was about to say something, the bell rang for dismissal. The class doors opened and every kid rushed out. It was time to go home!
Kids waited at the front entrance to be picked up by their parents. He waits with a smile, happy school was finished for today. One by one, Jaehyun sees his peers and other children be picked up by their mother or father or both if they were lucky.
His smile starts to diminish as he stands alone and when a boy from his class passes by him with his mother.
"Your mom forget again, Jae?" the boy said with a mocking voice before his ear was pinched.
"Don't say that, it's rude," The mother says. The boy sticks his tongue out before a stone the size of a popcorn hit him hard on the side of his head.
Jaehyun looks to see who threw it and he sees only a glimpse of you as you scattered away.
His eyebrows raise. Strange, he thinks.
He lets out a scream suddenly when he turns his head to see you peering over his shoulder, landing on his bottom. "How...?" He thought.
"I'm (y/n)!" You tilt your head as you say this, smile grand and radiant as ever.
"I'm... Jaehyun," He answers unsurely for some reason.
You grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "You can walk back home with me!" You stated as you interlinked your hands together. He waits a moment because you seemed like you had more to say.
"My dad's always late too."
Before he knew it, both of you were smiling at each other and eventually you dragged him along. Walking back home together.
-
And so, Jaehyun spent his childhood days with you.
When school ended, both of you walked home using the same route, passing by the same alley.
Sometimes getting Mrs. Hwang's sweet potatoes sometimes not. You always wanted to race everywhere and when you ran, he chased you. Sometimes it was the other way around too.
When your dad wasn't home yet, you would stay at his little apartment doing homework together. You would eat the dumplings his mother made but your favorite would always be her soup you'd said to him. When the table is cleared of plates and spoons, Jaehyun helps you with math even after you've sighed and grumbled multiple times when you get the wrong answer.
On the weekends, you chased each other while the elderly watch you as they did their weekly yoga outside. Laughing, at the sheer childish games you would play together. You would ride carts around the neighborhood and knock into someone's stall then proceed to get scolded for
When summer arrives, both of you always ate too much ice cream on the hotter days. When winter came, you would go sledding even though most of it consisted of both of you falling off the sled and lots and lots of laughing at each other. When rain fell, you would put on your cheap raincoats and jump in the dirty puddles, knowing well enough you'd get sick the next day.
Every year you would measure your heights and draw a line. You seemed to always tower a few centimeters above him. You would laugh at his attempts to make himself look taller. Fixing his hair, wearing his mother's heels. From age five to nine. It was marked there on the wall leading to his little apartment.
He'd never expect nine would be the last number on that wall.
The sun was nowhere to be found on that day. Clouds started to accumulate and very shortly he knew the sky would start crying.
He looks at you. His eyes rounded with sadness. The comer of his lips drooping down. What was happening?
"I'm sorry Jae." He swore the sky turned darker when you said that. He stays silent not knowing what to say or maybe he has a lot to say but did the know where to start.
"Come on honey," Your father ushered you.
Your eyes were wet with moisture, that he could see. You embraced him tightly.
"I'II miss you, Jae," With a last look, you turned and got in the car. That last look you gave him he'll remember forever, he thinks.
"Gonna miss you, kiddo," Your father rubs his head with adoration, saying his version of a goodbye too.
He stares ahead drenched as you finally drive off. Out of the neighborhood, passing the alley. Out of his life.
What will he do now? Who will he walk home with now? In all honesty, Jaehyun couldn't remember what it was like when you weren't in his life.
Later, Jaehyun would discover he walked home alone again as he always had before you came into his life. He would always stare at the height chart on the wall leading to his apartment. He would soon be taller than you. He would be the smartest in class. He would live his middle and high school years with excellency and stunning report cards. He would be the first to get into college.
He would reminisce about your memories together; he would remember your teasing smiles. Your loud laughter when he chases you. He would remember the ice-creams you shared. He would remember your hate for studying and laugh softly. He would remember each and every time you poked one of his dimples, would remember moving away from your lingering finger, tease you by saying his dimples are closed for today. He would remember the frowns you display when he somehow wins something and all the coaxing he would do. He would remember because it's the least he could do for now.
Jaehyun swears he would meet you again.
-
"Catch me if you can!"
You were chasing a boy. Running as fast as your short legs could. Dodging the stalls, ducking your head, jumping over potholes, your shoes getting dirty. The boy looked behind and then-
"y/n!" Just like that, you're brought back to reality. Your eyes adjust to the bright lighting. forgetting where you were for a moment.
Looking at the sleek furnished oak shelves your father had in his office. The bright glint of his name plate making your eyes squint shut sometimes. The slight heat of the sun's rays that shines through the wide windows overlooking the city. The pristine marbled floors, clean with no obvious speck of dust. Then to your father's look of question waiting for you to say something.
Ah, right.
"Sorry where were we?" You hastily respond.
Your father only sighs, reminded of his little girl.
"Your 19th?" Right. That. You nodded gesturing for him to continue.
"It's going to be held at the plaza, I've invited—"
"Are you going to be there?" You cut him off, not really wanting to hear all the details.
"'l’ll try to be," he says after a moments pause. There's a pang in your heart.
"Can't you be a little more convincing dad?"
"Then, yes, I will be there," You know there's a big percentage he's not going to be there.
Your meeting concludes when an invoice from his secretary reminds him about the meeting he has to attend that afternoon. You stand and make your way around to give him a brief hug. He apologizes because your visit was cut short and you say it's okay like all the times before. You said your goodbyes, turned your back and exited his office.
Shutting his doors softly, you lean to rest your back on it sighing. Your father's secretary, Suho, pops his head up.
"You 'kay champ?" He asks once he sees the state of you.
You only hum in approval and begin your descent towards the elevator.
Ever since the business prospered, the world wanted even more of your father. Much more than back then.
Life was better now; but you cannot deny how you missed the breakfasts your dad would cook up for every morning before school. Eating take-outs for dinner because he was too busy making phone calls but nonetheless together. Sure, life hadn't been that great. You knew at some point in your childhood your father was struggling to make ends meet, to put food on the table.
But then again, you knew he liked hearing jazz music. You knew he hasn't ever liked peas. You knew he loved those cheap snacks from the convenience store. Eating ice-cream. He liked writing too. You knew his favorite board game was snake and ladders because it was the only thing cheap enough to keep you entertained. Now though? You aren't so sure anymore.
You weren't sure when it happened. Never seeing your father as much at home anymore. He flies here and there, scoring business deals left and right, meet important clients. Lots and lots of paper work you couldn't blame him for getting so lost in them. But you wished he remembered you more. You grew up getting used to seeing representatives of his at every competition and graduation. Building up hope he'd at least show face in one of them. Getting that same hope crushed again and again when you never see him.
But would it kill to know someone is rooting for you in life?
The elevator doors slid open with a ding and you enter with a heart so heavy you're astonished it didn't drop then and there.
-
"Jae! Here's your coursework but prof said if you don't at least attend one class for this semester, he'd gonna fail you even if you ace... the final..." Johnny elaborates loudly before finally realizing the situation hence the hesitant words towards the end of his sentence trailing off.
Johnny’s face scrunches up in an apologetic look as he makes eye contact with Jaehyun who still has his hands out from trying to stop him saying anything even though it didn t come close to working. Johnny hands the medium stacked papers in his hands to Jaehyun’s mother who stood beside him.
Everything happened so quickly, the next second, he was finally realizing the sharp pains of being hit on his head with his rolled-up coursework.
"Ow! Ow! Mom! I'm sorry!" He repeats like a mantra. Recoiling back into the apartment as his mother keeps at it.
"You've got it coming for you, what more do you have to do? All you need to do is study!" Mrs. Jeong bellows. Hits ceasing as she closes the door.
"I know, I know. I just— Something important came up." He makes a vague excuse.
"What could be more important than studying?" His mother inquires. He remains speechless at this.
He hears a crunch and looks to the left where the window is. Meeting with the faces of his neighbors—uncle Hong was munching on shrimp crackers— before he comes and shuts them out by letting the curtain loose. Cons of living here for the past 19 years he guesses. Everyone will eventually know what's happening. It's basically like entertainment for them. He loves them though even if they're all nosy busybodies.
As Jaehyun stands now in front on his mother, looking into her eyes and seeing sadness in them he could only say: "Nothing is,"
Half of him reprimands him. Why couldn't you just be a dutiful son? You know life has been tough on her. And you being like this won't help her. Just study. The delusional side of him argues back fiercer. But it's her! Life never felt the same after you left. A you shaped hole cut right out of his chest. Everyone needs a friend; he just can't let you go. Memories as vivid as ever.
Jaehyun recedes back into his room, bag pack suddenly feeling heavy on his shoulders. Feet dragging slow steps and finally, upon reaching his bed collapsing face first. Then he remembers the parcel with a cheap suit in it. He reaches his hands pulling it by the straps.
It's worth it he thinks. Always will be.
-
Jaehyun still couldn't believe his luck. What are the odds you find out your best friend is an heir to a multimillion company the same day you get hit on the head by your mother? Jaehyun couldn't comprehend how he missed that big of a detail about Johnny but then again, he was also sometimes slow (well mostly) but we'll ignore that. He had his moments.
"Jae, I get it. She's important to you. I'm willing to help you," Johnny said to him.
"Face it, John, I'm never gonna see her again. Look at me!" He explained, exasperated as hell. Johnny acknowledges what Jaehyun had on. A sleeveless suit jacket and with no pants on.
Johnny looked at him with pure sympathy. He's never been more determined to help a friend out more than ever.
"Jae I'm rich," Johnny says straightforwardly. Honestly, he's surprised Jaehyun hasn't been able to keep up. What with the subtle but nonetheless small breadcrumbs of clues he'd accidentally left out.
"Funny joke Johnny, you've said that before," Jaehyun's palm covers his face. Tired and close to the brink of giving up
Oh, what was he thinking? That he could just show up at the venue, say you're his best friend and they'd let a commoner like him in? Tough luck. He'd always had one heck of an imagination. Big dreams he thinks he can achieve.
His thoughts run to you. The person he's been wishing to meet again for every birthday wish he made. He wonders if you still like the same things. Did you still like to paint? He wonders what your favorite song is right now. What your favorite color is, favorite food.
Nonetheless, if you did like different things. It wouldn't matter a thing to him. He'll get to know you again. Like back then.
Getting to know someone was precious. Jaehyun’s realized this when he hit double digits. Learning to know what someone likes and dislikes. Their preferences. If they liked wearing something a certain way. How they eat noodles. Do they like pineapple on pizza? What people liked to do as a hobby. It's wonderful, he thinks, that people are their own individuals. Everyone had opinions.
He just never felt right getting to know someone that wasn't you- well until Johnny came around but that was it. He’s never felt the need to get to know someone other than their name.
As if having enough of Jaehyun’s denial, Johnny takes out the invitation from his back pocket.
Jaehyun feels something drop to his lap and uncovers his face. It takes him a while to read what's on it.
You are cordially invited to attend the 19th Birthday Party of Y/n Kang.
Friday, 6pm on the XX/XX/2023
Seventh Floor - Vienna Hall, Dream Plaza
Please RSVP to QIAN KUN
127-214-0097
Jaehyun stands up with a sharp intake of air. Yelling out a, "Dude!" Johnny just sighs. Partly because Jaehyun finally realizes, partly because he knew this was going to happen.
"Please," Jaehyun clasps his hand together, falling to his knees. Head bending low, eyes closed tightly. He doesn't know what he's asking for but he knows he'll beg if he needs to. He can't waste a chance like this. A chance to see you.
"Get up loser. This is how I'm helping you out Jae," With these words, Jaehyun gets up without wasting a second more. Immediately bringing Johnny in for a tight squeeze.
"Okay, okay, you can let go now. We still have to go get you a suit, lover boy."
-
You only turn nineteen once.
There was something your father said once. That an individual was like an onion and every year your layers will continue to add up. That an individual was a fragment of every year before them too.
Your birthday is a celebration of a new layer, a new part of you but also all of the parts before that too.
You reminisce of all the times back then. When your father would come home with a cupcake and one single candle. You would wish something upon it, it was always the same wish and blow out the candle. "Please. Let our lives be warm and safe and happy."
You wished things now could've been like back then too.
As you get dressed, your body cascaded by the flowy white dress. Your face fixed to perfection.
Your father warned you beforehand. Your birthday wasn't just your birthday anymore.
They were opportunities for brand deals. Brand executives would casually offer you a dance, then without missing a beat offer you to be a model or ambassador for whatever they were trying to sell.
You knew what to expect.
It wasn't until a few years back when you realized you much rather spend your special day just in the comfort of your own home with your loved ones even if they weren't that many. Just with your father. Reliving back the memories you grew to remember so fondly so vividly sometimes.
The fact saddens you to an extent.
A knock startles you out of your trance.
"The car is ready for you miss."
-
"I'm starting to think this is bad idea Johnny," Jaehyun says worriedly.
Currently, he's sat in the passenger seat of Johnny's Mercedes Benz dressed to the nines, hair styled to show his forehead. Meanwhile, Johnny in the driver's seat dons a casual white t-shirt and blue boyfriend jeans.
"Dude, you really wanna wait that longer to see her?" Johnny questions him. He remains silent as Johnny continues driving. When Johnny stops where a security guard stands to show the invitation card Jaehyun now sees the pristine majestic building of the Dream Plaza. Lots of windows he notes.
Johnny follows the curve of the road before stopping when he sees other cars still lined up to drop off the other guests, he looks to his right seeing Jaehyun’s hands clench the fabric of his suit pants.
"You're gonna wrinkle your pants if you keep doing that dude," he tells.
"Oh. Yeah," Jaehyun lets his hands unclench. Sliding them up and down his upper thighs. Trying to soothe his anxiety.
"Hey, listen. If the plan fails, you'll still get to eat the scrummy food and I know for a fact they've got mean cocktails there." Johnny says with a sly grin.
"Thanks for the enthusiasm, Johnny," Jaehyun says with a shake of his head, chuckling.
Johnny drives forward when the cars move, "What if she doesn't remember me, John? I mean it's been a decade," Jaehyun questions.
"I'm sure she does, but if she doesn't then I guess you'll have to remind her," Johnny says with genuine assurance.
When the car finally reaches the main entrance, a chauffeur opens the car door. Before Jaehyun gets out of the luxury vehicle, his head turns to Johnny.
"Thanks Johnny," he says with overwhelming gratitude.
"Goodluck Jae." Johnny gives him a nod.
The door closes and he faces the public. He feels the stares on him. People might be wondering who he is. Scratch that, they are wondering who he is. Nonetheless his eyes are blinded when the cameras start flashing at him. He stands there awkwardly clad in a dark gray suit fitted for him before someone ushers him inside the plaza.
Seven floors from now and he'll be able to see you.
Jaehyun remembers the plan.
"Look, all you have to do is snatch a dance with her. Every year they hold this sort of ball room dance thingy where she dances with the first ten people," Johnny explains to him when they were searching for suits.
"Every year? You mean to say you've been attending her birthday parties for the past years?" Jaehyun practically shouts. Jealousy eating away at his heart.
"I think we'll just buy a premade suit and make alterations wherever necessary," Johnny says lifting a suit in front of Jaehyun’s figure, not minding what Jaehyun said.
"And I don't even know how to dance," Jaehyun voiced with concern.
"No worries brother, l've got you,"
"Ow! Ow! Okay, you are bad at this dude," Johnny cringes, pain laced in his voice. They are back at Johnny's mansion like house.
"What'd you expect?" Jaehyun groans.
"Look, all I'm saying is you gotta follow the flow, okay?"
"Fine," he says exhausted. He needs to impress you somehow, right?
“Come on, again.”
A ding goes off and the elevator doors slide open. It's time.
Jaehyun feels the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach. His heart pounding rapidly against his ribcage. He looks down at his hands, trembling a little.
He's excited to see you again. All these years only seeing your face in web articles and social media. He'll see you face to face. He'll see you, as divine as you've ever been.
He'll hear how your voice sounds like. Would it still be as high pitched as back then he wonders. Maybe not.
-
The doors will be opening any time soon.
"Now let us all welcome the lady of the night!" Jaehyun hears the host say distantly.
Jaehyun is aghast when he finally sees you. Seated with people he didn't know, heart hammering out of his chest. Before feeling the ache that comes after. He feels like letting out a few tears. It's you. As enchanting as you ever were. Elegant and graceful.
Seeing you now almost made him forget how strongly he's missed you. The stings of heart aching pain without you in his life. His heart strings tugging fiercely inside of him.
You walk out slowly minding your dress. Standing behind the podium upon the reaching the stage, getting ready to give your speech.
Jaehyun listens to you, word by word. Silently tattooing the sound of your voice in his head.
Your voice got deeper but nonetheless still honeyed and a melody to his ears.
"A quick reminder to whoever is looking forward to the dance please go to Mina by the counter please," you say with a smile. Pearly whites on show. Jaehyun feels like he got struck by lightning when you did.
"Without further ado, please enjoy yourself to the delectable cuisine!" You finished.
Jaehyun looks over to the counter you were talking about. Seeing people already lining up. He rushes to stand up and make his way. Speed walking.
When he reached the counter, a woman congratulates him.
"Congratulations! You made it just in time. Here's your ticket, enjoy the party!" The woman hands him a ticket etched with a number 10 on it. Lucky him huh?
The clock hits half past eight when the host announces the start of the dance.
Each number called out was closer to his number. Jaebyun doesn't know whether to feel ecstatic or nauseous.
He waits a long time (he waited for five minutes tops but he likes to exaggerate) before finally, his number is called out. Jaehyun cannot help the jitters encapsulating his body. He steps up, into the light shining at him. Letting him be in the spot light. He looks at you never wanting to take his eyes off of you. His breath is taken away when you reciprocate his eye contact.
He's always loved your eyes.
"Come on Jae, you can do this." He assures himself.
He reaches his hand out upon reaching you. He realizes that he indeed grew to be taller than you. Your head only reaching his shoulder at the most. His face aligned perfectly if ever he wanted to give you a forehead kiss. You hold his hand with a soft grab and place another on his shoulder while he places his other hand on your waist. The classical music plays and Jaehyun follows the flow. Johnny would be so proud of him right now, he swears.
"Hi." Jaehyun sighs out. Feeling as if he could finally breathe. Not even realizing he's been holding his breath. Jaehyun doesn't know what to feel. He's dancing with you. You're holding his hand.
"Hello. Thank you for coming today," you say gently but he hears the rush in it. Jaehyun would die to hear your voice every day. His heart feels so heavy he doesn't know what to do next.
"Oh well—," He gulps.
"I hope you enjoyed the food," You cut him off. Jaehyun doesn't mind.
"Yes, yeah the food was fantastic—," He gets cut off again and he feels a little pang.
"I hope you had a joyful night. Sorry the dances are short," you say next. Jaehyun cannot help but think this sounds a little too rehearsed. One sentence coming after the other. Too practiced. Curt and polite.
And then the dance was over. You give him a small bow. Smile not quite reaching your lips. Was that it? He didn't even get to ask if you remembered him. You didn't ask what his name was. Jachyup feels a little heart broken.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the annual father and daughter dance. So please, may we have the chairman," The host announces without a second to waste.
The spot light now shines on you. This is where he senses something is wrong.
"Mr. Chairman, please come up!" The host calls out again. Jaehyun looks at you and sees the distress on your face. Embarrassment evident in your face. You look close to crying. He hears the whispers surrounding him.
"What kind of father doesn't attend her own daughter's birthday?" It's the host that says this, not realizing the microphone picked it up. Ultimately panicking upon realizing it did.
Jaehyun doesn't know what he's doing but what he knows is he's got to get you out of that. He heads to where the host sits near the stage. Where he sees a couple people from the team discuss what to do. But he’s already grabbing a mic and heading to the stage.
"Um..." Everyone's eyes go to him as he says this. Jaehyun only registering what he's about to do now.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I believe it is now time for the performances to take place,"
Around him, the hall is quiet. He sees people taking seats now. You stand there still. Eyes locked on his form. He can't help but think there's moisture in your eyes but from where he stands, he cannot tell. At least he's managed to divert the attention away from you.
"I'm going to be singing a song for the birthday girl. This song is called Natural." Without a hitch, Jaehyun sings.
"It's so natural to love you," Jaehyun ends the song only at the first verse because he sees you run out of the hall, with your hands covering your face, he swears he sees your shoulders shaking up and down.
Hurrying down the stage to get to you. Not bothering to stay and hear the applause dedicated for him.
He looks all over before hearing your soft whimpers come from a room.
"Hello? y/n?" He calls out He finds you on the balcony, your body bent to cover your face with your arm that sits on the railing.
Your response is immediate, "I'm busy!"
"Um yeah, I can see that you're bu—"
"Yup yeah, very busy!" Jaehyun’s heart breaks a little when he hears you soft whimpers still.
"Okay, I just— I was the one who sang," He confesses, "I was just trying to- you know—" He sighs, not knowing how to explain.
"I know what you were trying to do. Thank you," you said sniffling.
"You okay?" Jaehyun asks, moving closer towards you. Resting his arms on the railing too.
Looking to the front of him, at the city. Broad, vast and sparkling as it was. Neon lights blinding his eyes.
Jaehyun panics when he sees your body shaking harder. You were crying again. He pulls out a napkin he found in his suit, nudges your arm, "Here."
"Thank you," You blew your nose, Jaehyun cannot help but remember the little girl you were once before. He lets out a small smile.
"It was just— Just one night. One night a year," You begin but already Jaehyun understands. He hears the sadness laced in your now raspy voice. The hurt and the pain.
"I'm so sorry, this is really embarrassing, I don't usually cry like this," You made an excuse but the mascara streaking your under eyes tell a different story.
He gives you a shy smile, "There's a little something on your face a little bit," He follows by trying to dab your face with a spare napkin.
"Yeah, it's not completely gone," Jaehyun smiles sheepishly. Dimples appearing on both cheeks.
You turn around to see a reflection of yourself in a window and gasp.
"Sorry! I'm a mess right now," You dare not let him see your face before dabbing the rest of the mascara away as best as you can. Face tinged scarlet from embarrassment.
Jaehyun remains silent. Smiling to himself. You were just as cute as you were back then.
"I just don't feel right, you know? It's like I can see my future laid out right in front of me and I try so hard to make everyone proud to the best of my capabilities," Jaehyun gets a gist of where this is going
"But no matter how hard I try, something in me feels so—" You continue.
"Empty," Jaehyun finishes.
Your head snaps toward him when he did, you felt shivers up your spine. Jaehyun notices you shivering and pulls off his jacket.
"Exactly," You give him a somber smile and thank him when he wraps his jacket around your bare shoulders. Shielding you from the cold of the night breeze.
"I'm sorry for being rude, but I don't think I got your name," You look at him, eyes reflecting the bright lights of the city. Shining.
"Have we… met before?" You continue next.
This is his chance. The one he's been dreaming of for years.
"Well, I'm actually—" Jaehyun is abruptly cut off again when a woman calls out your name from the room. Causing you to leave the balcony with Jaehyun in tow.
"y/n! There you are, your father will be present any time now," Happy to have found you, she states.
She then holds up a tablet and Jaehyun sees your dejected face.
He tunes out most of the conversation you were having with your father over facetime until he mentions something about a gift.
The woman hands you a square box, big enough to hold with one hand. He sees your smile fall as you see what sits in the box.
"Thanks dad," You took the bracelet, now Jaehyun could see the very same one hung around your wrist right now. He hears your father's voice apologizing to you and an excuse to make up for it.
Jaehyun knows this will get him into trouble one day, but he can't help it. Barging in on your conversation, "Well at least you'll have a spare if you ever lose one of them, right?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there, young man," Your father apologizes when he heard Jaehyun’s voice.
The secretary holds the screen to show Jaehyun’s upper body. Your father notes the Omega watch Jaehyun has clasped on his wrist.
Jaehyun now sees your father. He sees the fine lines on his forehead. Graying hair and a tired look on his face.
"What's your family business?" was the first question your father posed.
Jaehyun panics to answer, scrambling his words. What did Johnny say his father was famous for? He thinks.
"Uh real estate? No! I mean, um, restaurants. Wait, hotels!" If your father senses his hesitancy he doesn't comment on it.
"Ah, you remind me much of myself. Come to think of it, why don't you youngsters go out for lunch tomorrow?"
"Of course!" Jaehyun says the same time you yell out a, "Dad!"
"I'm okay with that," Jaehyun says next flashing his dimples at you. You feel yourself flush at his answer.
"Perfect! I'll arrange lunch but I apologize if it's rude, I do not know your name," Your father inquires.
“I’m Jae…” His eyes bounce back and forth between you and your father before he says, “...min.”
“My name is Jaemin," Jaehyun can already feel the guilt crawling up his spine.
"Nice to meet you Jaemin," Your father says next.
"I'll make a reservation at Culture Tower and-"
Another distant voice from your father's screen cuts him off saying he's got an important call to answer. Your father sighs but regains his composure before saying a goodnight to you both.
Jaehyun is left with you again when the secretary leaves after saying goodbye to you. His jacket still clad on your shoulders.
"So, l'll see you tomorrow?" You say with a slight lilt in your tone. Heart a little happier than it was before. Pulling his jacket off you and handing it to him.
The smile Jaehyun lets out is uncontainable as he grabs his jacket.
"Oh, you'll definitely see me tomorrow,"
-
It was somewhere around half past ten when Johnny came to pick Jaekyun up from the Plaza and Jaehyun’s just about finished recalling the events that have transpired tonight.
"Hold on, so you lied about your name?" is what Johnny says first.
"Well yeah,"
"Dude, what?" Because honestly Johnny doesn't get it.
"Look, you weren't there Johnny. She belonged there. She was... important and she was talking to all these old fellas. I'm just... me," he elaborates.
"Yeah, so what? You're gonna keep lying to her? I think she'd hate that more Jae," Johnny gives his two cents.
"I'll tell her tomorrow...”
“…somehow," He continues.
Johnny just gives him a look. Tired of his friend making things so complicated when they didn't have to be.
-
The next day came and the sun was beaming. The sky so blue and the clouds have never looked so soft. Today was the day he'd come clean to you.
Jaehyun arrives at the entrance of Culture Tower where Johnny drops him off but not without saying, "Don't fuck this up Jae," before driving off. He hopes not.
It wasn't long before you arrived. Stepping out wearing a white blouse with a navy-blue ankle length satin skirt and black ballerina flats. Jaehyun doesn't realize this but anyone with eyes would know how utterly besotted he was with you.
His trance was cut short when you yelled his name (well supposedly his name), "Jaemin!"
Nonetheless, he doesn't let it affect him. Wanting to just enjoy lunch and you.
"My lady," Jaehyun greets you, smiling.
A staff escorts you into the tower, leading you to the elevators. Upon reaching the top floor, the doors slid open and there Jaehyun sees the waiters and waitresses line up to greet you. It's what makes Jaehyun uneasy. You were important. He cannot help but compare his life with yours. He's never felt more insignificant.
He catches up with your pace when he notes that he was lagging a bit. A waiter leads you to your table, "One of the best seats," He states.
Jaehyun looks out of the window and does not disagree. You could see the whole city up here and while you eat too? Sold. He'd love to live life like this. You cannot help but admire him as he was admiring the view.
Getting a wonderful look at the view. Jaehyun realizes how rude he must've been.
"I'm so sorry," He apologizes before he pulls your seat for you. Honestly, you didn't even mind.
Taking his own seat, Jaehyun's eyes widened a squint when he notes that the menu doesn't have prices listed on them. Knowing for sure all of them must cost more than single digits.
"What's your surame? If I may," You ask suddenly. Eyes still surveying the menu.
"Jeong," he says in response, nodding your head to signal you heard him. You knew a Jeong once. What was it? Jeong something.
A waitress comes then to take your order. When she leaves with the menus in her hands, Jaehyun can only look at you while you took your turn to admire the view. He doesn't think he'll be able to stop marveling at your beauty. It's now that Jaehyun registers the rapid beating of his heart. So loud, he was afraid you could hear. He feels the bouts of sweat on his back.
But then again, Jaehyun was just a boy. Who's sat in front of his best friend ten years ago. He cannot help the questions begging to be let out. The desire to get to know you again.
"What's your favorite color?" He blurts out. He has no idea why he feels embarrassed. He knows his ears are a little red now.
And then he hears your honeyed laugh. Chuckling at him.
"Sorry, you just remind me of someone I know a long time ago," You smile at him, tucking your hair behind an ear.
He wonders then, if you were remembering him.
He gives you a shy smile, both his cheeks carrying a dimple each. Momentarily, you are stunned.
Because you remember a boy back then. His dimples were a feature you'd know you remember. You remember how curious he was. Asking question after question. His ears turned red all too easily, you remember laughing at him too. When your father was busy, you would play with him. You remember chasing him where the elderly did their yoga. Their laughs still playing in your mind sometimes. You remember flying a kite with him, jumping in the rain. He was playful and laughed a lot. You remember back then he was shorter than you. You wonder if he stands taller than you are now. Chuckling as you remember your first love. You wonder how he's doing.
Conversation flowed like a river after that first question. You don't stop talking when the food arrives and even when your plates are licked clean. Glasses half empty.
Jaehyun feels like he's on cloud nine. But for now, he needs to put his feet on the ground. He must tell you.
"I don't want this to end yet," He confesses. You listen attentively, a voice inside you agrees with him.
"May I take you somewhere? I need to tell you something," With a voice as sweet and deep as his. How can you ever deny?
-
Jaehyun hailed a taxi. He whispers an address to the driver and off you go.
The sky blossomed with oranges and light pinks when the taxi pulled up to an alley you vaguely remember. You got off the taxi while Jaehyun pays the fare.
When the taxi leaves. All goes still.
Jaehyun’s heart beats nervously. His fears seemed as real as could be.
"y/n, I have to tell you something," He mutters. "I'm not Jaemin. I'm actually-"
"…Jaehyun.”
“You're Jaehyun," Your eyebrows crease together, remembering. Not hesitating anymore.
He's startled when you say his name, but he nods. You don't know how you didn't piece things together quicker. You knew those dimples seemed a little too familiar.
"Then why did you lie?" The look you give him makes him want to slap himself, hard. Guilt drowning him.
"I wasn't planning to, I was just- I was afraid that if you'd see me like this. It'd all be over," He explains. You seem to understand.
"Then you still live here?" You ask and he nods.
"In the same apartment?" Nodding again, his gaze falling to the floor. But you aren't looking at him anymore. Your eyes scan all over the place. It was as if something clicked in place.
"I- I remember this alley. We pass by it when we walked home from school," The dusty pieces inside your mind are starting to become clearer. You start walking, pace quick. If you turned a corner here, you'd see—
"Mrs. Hwang! It's Mrs. Hwang and she's still selling hot potatoes!" You say overjoyed, you didn't know how heartwarming it is to see a familiar face after so long.
You both continued walking, while you were looking forward Jaehyun looks at you. He hears you let out a gasp making him look away from your side profile. He smiles when he looks at what you were staring at.
"You'd think they'd use new sweat pants with a new decade but nope," He pops the p. You both share a laugh. After all these years, Jaehyun's still able to make you laugh.
Then if you make a turn right and walk straight ahead, you'll see the pavements where you'd always race him. When you do reach it, you look at Jaehyun teasing smile at the ready, "Up for a race Jae?" Without missing a beat, you ran. Laughing when Jaehyun was still slower than you. Smile never ceasing.
You speed up upon reaching the staircase leading to the apartments, quickly but carefully climbing them. When Jaehyun finally catches up with you, he sees you standing there at the corner . Knows what you were looking at. He heads over to where you stood. Your fingers gently caress the chalk inked on the wall.
"I didn't realize it's been this long," you say somberly, there was a sad frown etched on your face.
"Then that means your apartment must be just around the corner," You looked at him. You sped past him around the corner.
"Uh I don't really think that's a good idea," Jaehyun says unsurely, scratching his neck.
You see Mrs. Jeong watering her plants with a water bottle.
"Hi Mrs. Jeong!" You greet her. Mrs. Jeong gives you a look over with her brows furrowed. You felt like you were being picked apart, "Sorry, do I... know you?"
Jaehyun pops up beside you and explains quickly, "Uh Mom! We have an unexpected visitor," His hands gesture towards you. You put your hand up to give a small wave and smile.
Mrs. Jeong steps away from her potted plants, her eyes bouncing between the both of you, anger suddenly laced in her features.
"A girl! Jeong Jaehyun is that why you've been slacking off?" His mother confronts him and when close enough hits him with the plastic bottle she was holding. By now every neighbor of his was watching this scene unfold.
"Mom! It's y/n!" Her hits cease and Jaehyun sighs when the bottle is away from him.
"y/n? What are you doing here?" In a split second, her face softens seeing you. Mrs. Jeong hasn't changed much. Still looking as beautiful as ever, but you can see the slight smile line indents and crow's feet around the corners of her eyes.
"Oh, I was just- visiting an old friend," You give a shy smile.
Mrs. Jeong glares at her son before hitting him one last time.
“Where are my manners dear, come! You must be hungry," While you were dragged and seated on the dining table you've once did math homework on before, the neighbors crowd around Jaehyun, "My gosh, she's grown to be a beauty, hasn't she?" One of the aunts say. Following Jaehyun into the apartment. A bowl of soup sits in front of you ready to be sipped.
"It tastes as good as I remember," you say with a dreamy sigh once you did.
Just like that, it was like you never left. You're making dumplings with his mother now. Jaehyun's forced to play checkers with one of the uncles before he's shoved because he was too busy staring at you. And then the whole lot of them watching a telenovela on his old television when night came.
You feel popcorn being thrown at the side of your head. Looking over to see who the culprit is, you see Jaehyun who tilts his head. A signal to follow him.
Jaehyun leads you to the rooftop.
"Woah, it's like a time capsule up here," you say with a laugh. You see visions of when you were younger. Flying a kite together. Talking about cartoons and what not. Coloring. Playing rock paper scissors. Falling asleep on the mats when the weather felt nice. Life was much simpler when you were younger, that you cannot dispute.
Jaehyun only laughs with you, not wanting to tell how he kept everything in the same place, not moving a thing to get a reminder of you every time he comes up here. He used to imagine you standing there already when he comes up, but of course that never happened. Well until now.
You take a seat on the bench, they were just long planks placed on some cinderblocks, Jaehyun following a second later. Your body shivers when a gust of cold wind blows, Jaehyun. notices and shrugs his sweater off. Placing it on you and crossing the, sleeves. You thank him meekly. Hoping he doesn't notice the flush on your cheeks.
"What if we went on a real date? For real this time," Jaehyun proposes. You see the subtle red his ears turn to and couldn't help but smile. Jaehyun was still that little boy who turns red easily. Your heart seemed to skip a beat.
You were sure of your answer but-
Jaehyun says something else when the silence lasts a moment too long, "I've missed you." More than you would ever know, he thought.
"I missed you too, Jae," He swears he could see moisture wetting your eyes a little. His gaze falls on your lips, you seem to reciprocate this want when he sees you leaning in closer, gently shutting your eyes close. He was only just beginning to shut his when a ring blares loudly.
You snap out of it and hurried to grab your phone, answering the call.
"y/n where have you been! You're supposed to meet up with-"
"Yeah, I know, I know," You end the call at that. God, this is the part you hate the most.
"Jae, I had a really good time today, but I have to go. Here, your sweater," You extend your arm in hopes that he grabs it.
"S'okay, keep it for next time," he waves off but Jaehyun feels the uneasiness radiating off you.
He continues, "It's not like we're not gonna meet each other again for...”
The words die on his lips, feeling as if his tongue was poisoned. He feels his heart drop when you don't say anything, your face folding into a guilty look he's seen before. The day you left.
He gets it. You were from two different worlds. You'll always be in a magazine cover or web article looking as stunning as ever and he'll just have to attend his classes. Get a degree. Find a job. Reminisce about you. Wishing he could hold you in his arms whenever he wanted to. Wishing you were his even for just a moment.
Jaehyun feels as if all hope is lost but if you're leaving now, he has to make it count. So, he grabs your waist to pull you in close. You're chest bumps into his. Before you knew it, his lips are on yours, soft, gentle. His hands cup your face and you let your eyes close. Getting lost in the warmth of him. You clench the fabric covering his biceps. Feeling how muscled his arms felt. Refusing to let go, not when euphoria feels this divine. You try to deepen the kiss, but Jaehyun pulls you apart.
"I love you, y/n. I just wanted you to know," Staring endlessly into your eyes. You don't break the contact, ever bound to the brown hue of his eyes.
You don't say a word while his hand caresses your cheek before a honk is heard and you both know it's time to say goodbye. Again.
"I'll escort you down," And he does. He holds you gently by the hand, leading you down the rooftop, down the stairs and in front of your car.
He presses a kiss softly on your forehead. Like he's been meaning to ever since the night of your birthday. Without another word, he opens the car door for you.
He holds your gaze when you are finally sat in the car. You fail to realize how handsome he's gotten. Jaw chiseled and cheekbones defined. How his facial features have the perfect harmony together. The moment is over when he shuts the car door, and the driver starts to drive. Leaving him standing there just as if it was ten years ago.
"You okay miss?" The driver asks seeing you from the rearview mirror.
You look up to see yourself wet with tears. Your heart broke for the first time when you were nine. You never imagined the second to be more painful than the first.
The girls that cry in the romance movies, did they feel like this too? You never thought your heart could hurt this much. But at the end of the day, you were just a girl longing for love.
"Take me to my father's office, please,"
-
"Is my father inside?" Your walking does not cease when Suho nods his head.
"He might be-" Suho tries to say, but you enter the office before he could say, "...busy."
Your father looks up to see who has entered, his attention focusing back on the papers in a split second when he realized it was just you. "Not right now honey, I'm much busy," He looks frustrated, you can tell by the way his eyebrows crease together, showing the lines on his aging forehead. But you've had enough.
"Please, can you just be my dad for one second? Not the chairman, not anything, but just my dad?" You plead. Your father's hard features soften, brows falling back into place when he hears the tone of your voice. The tone when you feel as if you were on the brink of hopelessness, he's had enough experience to know that now. He'll know how to tell for all of his life, he thinks.
He drops the pen he was holding and his eyes bore into yours. Searching for anything, something that is making his daughter feel so hopeless, so agonized. It is difficult for him sometimes, because when he looks into them all he can think about is the woman he so dearly loves. The eyes he's so used to staring into, at times the memories of her spiral in his mind he can't help but feel weak. For what is grief but love persevering.
When the silence embraces you, it is then you realize you barged in here without much of a plan. You encourage yourself to speak. "The young man you arranged lunch with me, do you know who he is?"
"He said his name was Jaemin, was it not?"
You shake your head. "No dad.”
“He's Jaehyun." There is a moments pause. Your father's brain trying to comprehend where he's heard that name before. And then-
"From the old neighborhood?" His face is filled with question. His skepticism is confirmed when you nod your head.
"Do you remember when we lived in that old neighborhood?" Of course, he does. How could he ever forget the genuine worry and fear he's had back in those days. Struggling, so you could have a better life. A life you deserved.
"I know things weren't the best, but don't you ever miss it sometimes—”
"We never look back, my daughter. I've told you this a million times," Your father's face turn stoic, voice stern. You try to dispute but your father cuts you off.
"You stop this nonsense now. Forget about it," Please, he pleads silently.
"Dad!" Your eyes have begun to well. The tears stain your cheeks a drop later.
"I have at least a hundred designer bags and a closet full of luxury brand clothing items. But in exchange for that I lost a best friend, and my dad. I eat breakfast in that house alone. Twelve chairs and for what? You aren't even present the one night a year I hoped you would be. I go to these photoshoots and all I hear are comments about how I'm not a certain way. Don't you ever feel it, dad? How lonely it is... at the top,”
You father is stunned to a silence. Left speechless in his own office.
"I just wanted to tell you this because all I ever needed was my dad. My dad's right in front of me and I miss him," Your voice wavers when you speak now. Losing that resolute front you've put up.
You exit his office with snot running down your nose, tears running in rivulets down your cheeks, slamming the door shut. It's a little hard to breathe.
You don't know what he thinks of it. A part of you sighs in contentment, proud of you for finally speaking up. To express these emotions that leave you so burdened, so forlorn, so alone.
Your father sits there blankly for what he feels is a long time. His mind still repeating the words you said like a broken record. He'd always knew you'd have your mother's heart. Strong-willed.
He closes his eyes. Remembering.
Sitting by the window of your old apartment in the old neighborhood. Your mother sat between his legs; his soothing hands lay tenderly on her pregnant belly, hers lay atop of his. Love filled every inch of the room.
"Love, it frightens me a bit, " He whispers.
"What does?" Whispering back, she says.
"What if I'm not a good father, " he says this like it isn't a question.
"Love, nobody ever truly knows if they are good parents. But I think just as long as our princess is happy and loved, we've done it right." He smiles at this. He'll try his damn hardest if he has to.
"Besides, we'll be doing this together," She chuckles.
The memory diminishes. Heart drowning in sorrow. If only he'd knew back then but how could he? Nobody could've predicted he'd return home alone cradling his child from the hospital. Despair written in his features.
What a fool he'd been. A hypocrite. He says to never look back but every second of his life he thinks of her. Wishing he had more time to hold her, bathe her in compliments and say he loves her. What would've it been like, he thinks. What she created was the best thing that ever happened in his life because he's got you.
The people we love might go. But you don't ever really forget their birthdays, your first times together. Sacred moments. Anniversaries. You'll hear the songs you used to listen to playing in the supermarket. Colors that remind you of them. Once someone connects your lives, the connection will always be there. It cannot be disconnected because all around there will be reminders of them.
He’ll never forget the help he'd gotten. Asking for help when you couldn't stop crying. He remembers the elderly who willingly babysat you when he had to work. The other aunts who showed him tips on what to do. Perhaps he does miss it sometimes.
He spent part of his life there with the love of his life and you. How could he ever forget. He swears his heart broke in two when you said you missed him. The absolute anger and distress your voice held but also the hurt he senses you've kept.
"I miss you love. I wish you were here." Now more than ever.
-
Your footsteps falter when you see another body sitting in the dining room. Your father sits there donned in casual clothes and not one of his expensive suits, reading the newspaper.
You choose to ignore him, taking a seat where you usually sat, alone. He folds the newspaper when you sit and begin munching on your breakfast. Not one word uttered, you don't even look at him.
He deserved this; he thinks. He takes a sip of his tea before anything.
"I still remember..." His head looks down at his lap. Your ears perk up, your eyes remain still on the food in front of you.
"I took your mother to an ice-skating rink once. She fell so many times and scolded me for laughing at her every time she did before helping her up. She doesn't know but it was as if l'd fallen for her like it was the first time." You lift your head to look at him not knowing where this is going. This is the first he's told of you about her. You don't know how to take it but the little memory he recalls makes your heart clench.
"I took you to the same one when you turned seven, this time I was the one falling so many times and you were laughing. Wildly, joyously," You remember this. A core memory you've ingrained, deep in your heart. Remembering how easy going and calm your father was that night. You hadn't known it was a meaningful place to him before you were even born.
"I tell you to never look back because I am too cowardly. I didn't want the past stopping me from giving you the life you deserved. I was foolish to think that just because we left, the past will let go of me but it didn't. It clung to me like a fly in a spider's web. I always knew you'd get more from her than from me. You've got my persistence but everything else was hers. Your ability to adapt, gracefulness, stubborness and passion for things you loved,"
"I wish only the best for you. I'm s—" He doesn't get to finish his apology when you embrace him in a tight hold. Your head laid on his shoulder. Your neck burned from the awkward position of the hug but you'll worry about that for another time.
You feel his hand caress the arm you've wrapped around him and you feel the little warmth again. Your tears stain his shirt, falling like heavy droplets of rain. You've always longed to ask him of your mother. Every single time, you refrained. You missed your mother but your father would've missed her more.
He pulls away so you are forced to face him. His hand cups your cheek, wiping away at the tear stains.
"My daughter is still the same after all, a crybaby," You cry more at this as he laughs lightly, smoothing down your hair.
"Come, we still have a visit to make."
You sit in the passenger seat while your father drives. It's been ten years since and you don't remember the way as much anymore but your father drives as if he still lives there. Hands never hesitant to make a turn right or left. You have a strange feeling that he's been visiting the neighborhood for a long time.
When he parks the car somewhere you've never seen in the old neighborhood before, you're inclined to ask him. Surely you must've at least seen this before, but you've never. The car was parked near an old building, it was in ruins, but in the midst of the crumbling bricks lay a view of the far ocean waves.
Your father steps out first before you follow. You see him stand looking at the view as you make your way towards him. You want to ask but—
"Ask," Your father prods you gently.
"What is this place?" You ask finally.
"Your mother found it when she was taking a walk one day. Ever since then, it's become our spot without all the neighbors up in our business," He chuckles.
"When I missed her too much, I come here," Your father gives away. It must've been hard for him, you think. You never knew your mother but your father did. You can't imagine building a life with someone only for them to be gone the next and all they've left you with were memories.
But then again, the memories were always the best part. You'll remember all the things you've done, reminisce it, grateful that at least, you did get to experience a life with them. The little things will remind you of them. You'll get to share stories of them, remember how cheeky they were.
Your father offers you his arm and you take it. He begins walking towards the alleyways you remember distantly. Passing by the alley you and Jaehyun used as a shortcut to get back home.
You pass by Mrs. Hwang's stall when your father recalls something.
"Mrs. Hwang always used to give your mother free potatoes back then, but whenever I tried to grab one, she slaps my hand away," You chuckled at that, reminded of your younger self being treated the same way but on strange occasions Jaehyun was the one who got them for free. You smile at this memory.
When you passed by the elderly doing their yoga, "Your mother always cooed over them whenever we pass by. She said she'd like to join them one day," The smile your father displays was one you've never seen in ages.
Eventually reaching your old apartment, standing in front of the worn building, paint chipping all over. Your heart wrenches with sadness.
"We decided to get married on a whim, did I ever tell you that?" your father says disrupting the loud silence. You shook your head
"What was she like?"
"She was everything. The hot days of summer, windy afternoons, cold nights of winter," he chuckles. Maybe you are more alike to your father after all. Loving people the same way. Because Jaehyun was like the ice cream you ate after chasing each other, the potholes you always forget to avoid, the height chart on the wall.
Your father believes you've gotten more from your mother than him, you agree. However more than half of you know how similar you are to your father. Both of you fierce lovers, never hesitant to go for it. Quick-thinking and resolute. Knowing when to draw boundaries. You wish your father gave himself more credit, he raised you after all.
He tugs your arm a little and you resume walking. Finally, when you reached the front steps of the apartment building where Jaehyun lives, you hesitated. Just yesterday you’d said goodbye to him again. He probably despises you for leaving again.
Your father senses the doubt clouding your mind. As if knowing what runs in your mind.
"He probably doesn't." For the first time in a long while, you trust his judgement.
So, you trudged up the stairs, one foot in front of the other. You reach his apartments floor, your hands will always caress the chalked wall. Your father follows behind you, turning around the corner seeing the Jeong's apartment.
It is your father who knocks on the door. When Mrs. Jeong opens the door, you see immediately behind her Jaehyun, who's back is turned against you, scooping some soup into a bowl.
"Who even knocks anymore?" Jaehyun says absent mindedly, used to his neighbors using the open window to ask for something. He'd never expect to see you with your father when he turned around. He safely places the bowl with scorching hot soup slowly on the nearest flat surface before dashing into the toilet.
Jaehyun doesn't believe it. You saw him. You saw him in his undies! And your father! He holds his head in his hands. Gripping his black locks between his fingers. Way to go, Jae, just last night you kissed her and now she's seen you in your underwear. His sleep infused brain was now more awake than ever. He looks into the mirror, ears the brightest shade of red he's ever seen. Cheeks flushed. He splashes his face with cold water and puts some pants on.
Seeing his reflection a second time, a frown forms on his face. Of course he cannot deny how overjoyed his heart is but Jaehyun doesn't understand what's going on. Why are you back here? You've split his heart in two just last night. The only night he gets to hold you. Confess to you. And you'd said your goodbye. Why did you come back? He cannot help the hurt that sits in his chest still.
When he steps out, your father stands from where he sits. You look at him with a teasing smile.
"Jaehyun! I'm sorry I didn't recognize you sooner but i can see you've grown to be a fine man," Your father greets as soon as Jaehyun reaches the table. Patting down his shoulders and squeezing his biceps.
What Jaehyun doesn't expect was to be held in a loose embrace. Your father whispers in his ear quietly, "Thank you." For what exactly, he does not know.
It was only right, your father thinks. Jaehyun was the catalyst that drove you to speak up and to realize how horrible he'd been as a parent. He would've never known the battle his daughter was in. So, he thanks Jaehyun sincerely.
"Hey! I heard Kang's h-" Uncle Mun thrusted his head through the open window. When he does in fact see your father, he bellows, "Hey, Kang's back!" Just like that, aunts and uncles from the vicinity came to talk, barging in Jaehyun's apartment. You father doesn't tell you but you can tell how rejoiced he is. How glad he is to not be so curt and polite all the time. He doesn't feel judged. And when he actually takes a sip of the soup, you're sure the dopamine levels in him multiplied. He gives you a brief look, one you know well. You don't know what he's thinking of but you know whatever it is will prosper and flourish.
You needed to talk to Jaehyun. When you don't find him, you head to the one place you know he'll be.
"Knew you'd be here," You say climbing the last steps to the rooftop. His back is towards you.
"Did you come back so you don't have to see me again for another ten years?" His words stab at your heart.
"No." Your reply came immediately. Jaehyun scoffs.
"I came because I love you." What? Jaehyun feels like he's lost his hearing. Did you say that right?
When he turns to face you, you notice the slight anger his face displays. As if testing your luck, you took one step closer to him. He doesn't make a move, still heavily focusing on you. Your footsteps continue, one after another. Until you stand in front of him. Shoes almost touching.
"Did you hear me? I love you,” You let out a sharp intake of breath when Jaehyun pulls your figure in a firm embrace. He just needed to hear it a second time. You don't fail to lock your arms around his waist.
He pulls away first. "I love y-" You try to repeat but you are cut off by his lips smashing into yours. His hand caresses your jaw. The kiss turns fervent when you reciprocate it. Again, when you try to deepen the kiss; he pulls away. You cannot help but be frustrated, frown forming. Hands resting on his toned chest.
"I love you m-" He doesn't get to finish this when you grab his face with both hands and bring your lips back together. At this he smiles.
When you finally pull apart, lips feeling raw. You see a small bruise on his lips, you run your thumb over it. Yikes. Reminding yourself not to kiss him too hard next time. His hands fall to hold your waist.
"This mean you're my girlfriend now?" He asks smiling. Cheeks hurting from the genuine delight he was in.
"You tell me," you say with cheek
"Let me be your boyfriend then," You feel the searing heat rush to your face immediately.
"Okay," you say feigning indifference. His lips form a pout.
"What do you mean okay?" He pinches your waist making you let out a quiet shriek. Laughing as you try to get away from his hold but he makes sure you're not getting away.
"Okay! Okay! I'm yours!" You say breathless from laughing.
He smiles giddily, dimples on show. "Thought so,"
Money does buy you happiness, but you can't buy happiness that comes from within. It cannot buy love. You don't think you've ever been this happy ever since ten years ago, well maybe except for that one time you got a barbie dreamhouse when you turned twelve, but that's beside the point.
Love was just around the corner. Like Jaehyun was.
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awfcspencer · 3 months
Text
A Step Behind || awfc x reader
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awfc x teen!reader
prompt: School is not your cup of tea.
warnings: self-doubt, crying, fluff at the end though
a/n: isn’t it crazy i wrote this while procrastinating my homework, crazy huh. enjoy!
School was never your strong suit, instead of being locked inside a classroom for hours and hours to listen to your teachers ramble on and on, you would rather spend your time outside on the football pitch. It’s not a lack of effort, because you sure tried to excel on your homework and exams, you would stay up late to try to study and focus, but your brain would get jumbled up and you could not retain information to save your life. It just felt you were always behind a step from your peers and it felt like they were all smarter than you, so why try? Always trying to even begin to grasp a concept and the teacher has already moved on to the next lesson. You had completely stopped doing your assignments and on some days, even stopped showing up.
Unfortunately, signing an Arsenal contract at a young age, the club forced to you to complete your studies and graduate. This felt like an impossible accolade, you hated school and apparently, school hated you too. The classroom felt like a prison and you were a felon. Luckily, you were able to transfer to an online school, but your inability to focus mixed with insecurities of stupidness and failure, you still were not doing well in your classes. Even though you spent every waking second that you weren’t on the pitch trying to submit work.
Right after training today, you set up a work station in the lounge, hoping to have some peace and quiet as exam week was coming up and you had to pass to finish school, finally. Headphones on, computer and notes out, you were ready to start knocking out your growing to-do list for the day. Until you heard an irish accent that was all too familiar.
“Y/N!!!” Come out to the pitch, Caitlin and Kyra are going to teach us some Australian rugby” Katie pleaded with you as she came into the lounge. It sounded like she was not going to be taking ‘no’ as an answer. You had yet to make a single dent in your coursework, but how could you pass up the opportunity to escape school?
“Oh I am so in.” you tell her, throwing your headphones out and shutting your computer. Right before you could make it outside the door, you hear your name being called.
“Y/N” you turn to see it is Leah calling your name, using her finger for you to come to her.
“Leah lay off, let her come playyyyy” Katie whined like a two year old that was denied a snack before dinner.
“Yeah listen to Katie!” you said as you tried to convince her to let you have some fun, knowing whatever she was about to say to probably wasn’t about to be fun.
“Katie, run out. Y/N needs to complete her coursework” Leah sternly stated. Once the words left her mouth, the smile that was previously on your face left in an instant. Once again, school coming around to ruin not only your mood but also your day.
Leah pulled your arm back into the lounge where Beth and Viv were standing in. Upon seeing your teammates, you knew they weren’t here to just lounge around. Leah ushered you two sit back at your designated school spot. The girls all took a seat, great now an intervention.
“Y/N, your online professors contacted the club and mentioned how you are behind on every single one of your classes. Some said you haven’t even submitted some of the assignments.” Leah said out, a tone of anger and disappointment in her voice.
They just didn’t get it, not everyone is good at school. You tried, tried, and tried to be someone who was ‘smart’ and did their work on time and always received the best marks, but that wasn’t you. Lessons were far from easy and the work you submitted, that you would spend days groveling over, would receive low marks and your teachers would write comments that shot down your confidence. It seemed like you could never catch up and you hit a point where you were so far behind that it felt physically impossible and overwhelming to catch up. The thoughts forming in your head caused tears to begin to well into your eyes.
“Im trying. I am trying to hard. But I am just stupid I guess.” you choked out to the girls who were now staring wide eyes at you. You were never a crier, usually keeping your emotions at bay, and you were typically always smiling and laughing.
“Liefde, please don’t say that about yourself.” Viv immediately cooed out, meeting you at you chair and holding you in for a hug.
You didn’t want to be in her arms, they all knew you were dumb and they were all disappointed in you, just like your teachers. “No Viv, it’s true. Everything takes me longer to understand. I can’t manage to focus through a 60 minute lesson, I turn my homework in late because it takes me so long. Everyone in the class is so much smarter than me. They deserve to graduate, not me.” you cried out. Your emotions had taken over you, everything you had been feeling in the last few months was coming to the surface.
“Y/N baby, why didn’t you come to us? We could have helped you when you were struggling.” Beth emphasized.
“I didn’t want you guys to know, it’s embarrassing that I can’t even finish secondary school!” you choked out. This is exactly what you didn���t want to happen. You thought they would all look at you differently now, if you were bad at school, maybe they thought you would be bad on the pitch too.
“Y/N it is not embarrassing to ask for help! Never, ever, be embarrassed to ask for help. That is what we are here for as your teammates and as your family.” Leah explained to you. Her voice was now laced with understanding and compassion. A group hug was had after as you had settled down and you started to now try to begin working on your work, the girls close by when you had questions.
Throughout the next few days, there would always be a teammate in the lounge, ready to answer any questions you had and proofread anything you were ready to submit. Alessia and Lotte were particularly helpful as they had graduated from university and always had the proper answers. Beth would always bring you a coffee on particularly hard days when she noticed the work was getting slightly difficult for you. Leah was on the tougher side, wanting you to explain why the answer was the answer rather than just giving you the answer.
After a few short weeks where you were now starting to hit your strides in your coursework, you had completely finished. All of the Arsenal girls gathered around you as you clicked submit on your final essay.
Beth quickly blindfolded you as she basically picked you up and lead you to what you assumed was a different room. When she removed your blindfold, you are met with a massive party. Balloons and streamers spread across the room and a cake that said ‘You did it’. The girls had thrown you a party to celebrate. Tears begin to brim in your eyes. Completing school was not an easy task for you, but alongside your teammates, you finally did it. You were simply the luckiest girl in the world.
“Thank you guys! This really means a lot” you smiled and happily said.
“We knew you could do it!” Leah added, pulling you in for a long, warm hug.
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iwantyouinacage · 4 months
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Rose Print
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Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, dirty talk, Stepdad!Leon, perv Leon, spoiled bratty reader, bratty, mentions of stepcest, masturbation (f), fantasizing, daddy issues, daddy kink, exhibitionism
Since day one you had it out for him, all glares and pouty lips. When your mom lead him up the manicured front lawn of your old house. He had an inkling. When he’d seen the quartz countertops, the smart fridge, the wood floors and big airy rooms. He’d had a hunch. And when he saw you? He knew you were a spoiled little brat.
part 2
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Rose print. It’s always rose print. Those tiny little rosebuds on your sheets. Just another reminder of you. Leon picks them up from the laundry basket, holding them up. He pretends he can’t smell your perfume all over them. Leon sighs deeply as he shoves them into the washer. He can’t escape the traces of you all over this house. When Leon had first married your mom, he bought this big house. His old place was a one bedroom cottage he rented since it was close to work. This new house he bought with hard earned money for him and his new wife.Yet somehow you had managed to expand yourself ten times bigger, to fill every corner of it. Leaving out your pink yoga mat in the living room. He found hair ties and bobby pins in the couches. Your make up strewn out on the bathroom counter he shared with your mother. Your sugar scrubs and razor in the shower alongside your cinnamon bun scented soaps. That extra bedroom you took the liberty of setting up your bed with your princess canopy in was supposed to be his man cave goddamn it.
Leon shook his head as a pair of your panties sat lonely at the bottom of the laundry basket, and he tossed those in the wash too. 
Since day one you had it out for him, all glares and pouty lips. He was worried your face would get stuck that way if you kept up like you were. When your mom lead him up the manicured front lawn, up the fancy steps of your old house. He had an inkling. When he’d seen the quartz countertops, the smart fridge, the wood floors and big airy rooms. From outside, the little third story loft. He’d had a hunch. And when he saw you? In that skimpy little baby tee and nails done up perfect, salon blow out and perfect skin. He knew you were a spoiled little brat. No job, not in college. Just completely living rent free and skating through life in a cloud of YSL perfume. You were like a precious show dog. Something fluffy and high maintenance. You gave him a once over. Him, Leon, who worked with his hands and had a blue collar job. It was like you smelled that he wasn’t up to your standards. 
Your mom hadn’t so much as spanked your cute little ass in your entire life. You threw your clothes everywhere. And let’s just say, Doordash will never go out of business as long as you are alive. Leon had offered to start going to pick up your food one time. And now you waltzed up to him with those big doe eyes asking for him to pick up your expensive coffee, or heaps of sushi, or thai food you could never finish. That he had to. Bat your lashes and you had this old man running around all over town for you. When you did cook, you never cleaned up after yourself.
You and Your mom went out regularly on Leon’s dime for mani-pedis and massages. Shopping trips to the mall had Leon digging into his wallet like it was going out of style. Those crisp new bills never seemed to stick around for long. Your hands always grabbing, gimme gimme. Mine mine mine. And he didn’t understand why, but he felt as if tugged by invisible fish hooks to give you whatever you wanted. He actually melted when you’d look so happy and excited after he’d say yes. Even if it was an act to butter him up further.
He felt like he had gained a pomp pomeranian, rather than step daughter. 
You always wanted more. Never satisfied, in the way that only girls like you could be. 
Leon couldn’t fault you for how you grew up, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t his place to discipline you either, that was your mother’s job. You were an adult. So he stood aside and imagined water off a duck's back. Sometimes waterfalls, or ocean sounds. Rubbing his temples as you stamped your foot and crossed your arms when your mom said no to you. For him. Because god knows he couldn’t.
 Sometimes Leon would be in the middle of screwing your mom and get a little too rough with the way he’d tug on her salon curls. Picturing they were yours, just for a moment. Leon would watch as those perfect ringlets would turn loose in his hands. There was something in the act of ruining something perfect. Sometimes he’d shove your mom’s head into mattress. Her lipstick and mascara running as he’d emptied his balls in her. Picturing you, watery eyed with inky black streaks down your face…It made his cock try to fill out again instantly. 
Leon had been a part of his your household for about a year now But it was rocky at first. 
At the very beginning, waaayy back Leon thought you just needed a dad. A real man around the house. The way you clung to your mommy, wouldn’t leave her alone for the first few months of his marriage. It had taken weeks after your initial prickly first meeting until that you began to come around to him. One night after dinner, with your mom in the kitchen washing dishes. His sweet words to you, that turned your cheeks the color of rose petals. You came home from ballet discouraged and achey, bundled up in your fluffy coat. Still wearing your tights and legwarmers when Leon had sat you down for a talk. Like a real parent would and told it to you straight. He knew you didn’t like any of your mom’s last boyfriends. Just like your real dad, they’d all come into your life, then left. One by one. You’d grown cold from men leaving. But Leon promised you he wasn't going anywhere and you could finally let down those walls around him. God it worked. For all of a week. He had seriously miscalculated. Turns out when you weren’t angry at him, you were needy for his attention. Like an addict after the first taste. He really tried to be the dad you needed. He really did.
He showed you what it felt like to be around a stable father figure, someone nurturing and present. Who adored and cherished you. Loved you. It really did a number on your brain. He could see that hidden part of himself slowly coming out around him. The hole your bio dad left in your psyche that needed him. Deep, deep down. 
Leon gave you what you needed. That hug almost felt like you would shake apart. You felt like a little girl again in his big arms, with your head against his pillowy chest. His soft voice cooing and comforting against your hair as he pet it. Holding you like a precious little thing you were. 
Leon thinks that’s how it really started. 
 You’d preen, then come waltzing out of your room in a little nightie or a itty bitty skirt. Practically gagging for him to praise you. For him to dip into your warm, perfect waters. Feel the scorching sand between his fingers, get lost in the breath of fresh air that was your perfume. A ploy, a mirage. Anything to siren him into the lapping waves, only to be sucked into the hidden whirlpool below. To be chewed up and spat out by you. 
He’d seen you around the house when your mom would leave. You would take long showers with the door cracked. Practically inviting him to watch you use that detachable showerhead like a pro. Or when you’d sit in his lazy boy recliner with your vibe on your cute little clit. Yeah, he knows the one. Your favorite: pink with those little bunny ears you love so much. He’d all but died and gone to heaven when he nearly walked in on you in the master bedroom. Two fingers stuffed in your cunt on his wedding bed. On his side. His work shirt pushed up to your nose. Wrapped around you like it was him reaching around you. Cunt making sloppy, schlick schlick schlick noises as you desperately tried to make yourself cum with his scent in your nose. It took every fiber in his being not to pin you down and show you what all those little boys your age couldn’t. He almost did it to, but he didn’t.
You were always in a perfect state of just out of reach and too close for comfort. It was wrong, it was dangerous.He was not falling for it. He couldn’t, it was so wrong. You were dangling yourself like a carrot on a string, and he could sense the trap over his head waiting for him to snap his jaws at it.
Leon resolved to remove that one thing that seemed to fuel your sudden devotedness to turning his self control to ash. 
Attention. Approval. Adoration. 
He pulled back on the reins hard. No more fatherly praise, no more ‘good girl’s. Definitely no more letting you fall asleep on his shoulder on the couch. It hurt him to do it to you, that was the problem. He knew how much it took for you to open up to him. Again, it wasn’t your fault you’d delved deeper and deeper into yourself and came up short of something whole. Empty in ways you couldn’t even begin to fill up. That no amount of material things shovelled into that hole was going to do the trick. Leon hated a part of himself for opening your pandora’s box. Leaving you alone, lonely. Waiting for a fix of his love. Slick with spit, red with need, and wet. So. very.  wet. 
So wet, that he’d tried to repent a little by taking up doing your laundry as a chore. Ease the burden of all those sheets soiled by rutting your cunt on them. Rose print. Rose print sheets. Rose print everywhere. Little rose ribbons on your panites -Leon could see the holes worn in the front where you rubbed your clit raw trying to ease the ache. You were addicted to the pain of it all at this point because it just wouldn’t leave. 
Leon gave a loaded sigh as he unceremoniously dumped the rest of your laundry in the washer. He leaned heavily on the closed lid,shutting his crystal blue eyes. Pinching the bridge of his nose. Even the laundry room wasn’t sacred, you were everywhere. His head drifted. Thoughts streaming into his head. Warm as a flame licking a candle wick. The rumble of washer -no that was your vibrator. The water running into the sheets making them squelch- Nah that was that needy cunt between your legs. His hands smelled like you from handling your unmentionables. Leon unthinkingly clasped his hand over his mouth to let out a sinful growl. The smell of your drippy pussy all over his fingers. Leon let out a shaky breath, freehand drifting to the waistband of his dress pants. 
God, how embarrassing. getting so worked up by just the smell of your old sweat? It was barely even 8am and he was already rock hard trying to do a quick load of laundry and leave for work. He bit his lip, he probably he’d have enough time. Rub a quick one out without being late. 
“Mom?” your voice drifts from the other room.
Fuck. Fuck. He tucks his cock into his waistband and tries to look casual as you wander. He clears his throat, voice still husky. “Uh, no baby -it’s Leon. In the laundry room.” he calls you voice cracking. The waistband trick doesn’t work so well when his cock is jerking and leaking at the sound of your voice like a guard dog. Down boy. 
Leon quickly breezed past you in the kitchen to the front door. Not giving you any attention as you set yourself up the couch to paint over the chipped polish on your toes. Leon is unrolling his sleeves from his elbows and slipping on his shoes. “Your mom is working late tonight,” he says in a clipped tone, like he was annoyed with you. He even fixes his brows so they are heavy in his eyes. 
You don't look up as you hum acknowledgment. 
“And we're going on that camping trip this weekend. Whether you like it or not.” Leon felt himself overcompensating to not give you any wrong ideas lately. He had this gut feeling, he couldn’t quite place it. Like you were planning something. Laying in wait to catch him lacking. Itching to curl up and strike him in the soft underbelly. “So don’t you dare try to back out at the last minute again. Not like you have a good reason to not go either, you know, like a job.”Leon tries his best to look stern, but youre unfazed. “Uh, okay…” you smile up at him, smile like a fox. “whatever you say, old man."
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pleasurebuttonwrites · 4 months
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Irritated
Matt Murdock x F!Reader | Explicit 18+ | 2.2K
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Summary Cooking for Matt goes all wrong and your insecurities come out.
Warnings smut, oral (f receiving), angst with a happy ending
A/N First time writing for Matt. The perfectionism was strong with this one - this has been sitting for months and I'm finally posting.
~~~
The cloud of smoke is quickly filling the apartment. You had turned the burners off, but the charred mass in the skillet is still sizzling. You crank the vent hood fan on high, and open a window. It isn’t enough.
As he’s racing home across the rooftops, the smell singes his nostrils. His body is exhausted but it gives him a dose of adrenaline before he realizes that it’s not a fire, just a burnt dinner.
Dinner? At this time of night?
That’s when it dawns on him. The smell is coming from his apartment. Maybe it’s my neighbor, he hopes with half-hearted optimism. With the way his night has gone, he doesn’t think he’ll get that lucky.
You’re fanning the smoke out of the window, using one of Matt’s law document tomes in Braille, when you hear the door to the roof. You speed up your fanning, as if that will in any way remove the smell from the apartment.
His footsteps are on the steps now and you turn to apologize — with some self-deprecating humor to relieve your anxiety — when you catch the irritation on his face. Cautiously, you say, “I’m sorry about the smoke. I was just trying to cook and I don’t know what—”
“It’s fine.” He cuts you off with words a little too flat and forceful to be sincere.
That familiar feeling washes over you. You had expected it to happen sooner or later, and here it was. He was finally figuring out that you were more trouble than you were worth.
He tosses his mask on the chair and yanks off his gloves, his mood infecting every motion. Without another word to you he retreats to his room and closes the door behind him.
From the other side of the door, Matt catches the way your breath hitches, hears you gather your things and walk out. He wants to stop you but the devil still has a hold on him and he knows he could only make things worse now.
He knew this would happen sooner or later. He knew he’d drive you away. Took longer than he thought it would. He tells himself the smart thing to do would be to let you go. Just let it end here.
But he hears your footsteps on the pavement outside. You’re walking home instead of taking a cab. He throws a shirt and pants on over his suit, and chases after you.
You only make it a block before he walks out of the shadows and strolls along next to you, not even winded from catching up.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone. You could get hurt.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, resentfully even. If he’s there out of real concern for you, rather than a sense of duty, he doesn’t show it. You say nothing to that and he doesn’t speak again.
The walk seems to take longer under the weight of the silence between you. When you finally get to your building’s door, you unlock it quickly and step inside. You don’t even look at Matt as you push the door closed behind you. But before it can latch, he catches it.
“Sweetheart,” he begins. “I’m sorry about the way I— the way I acted. It had nothing to do with you. I had a shitty night and I should’ve cooled off before coming home.”
When he puts it like that, it makes you seem unreasonable. Softly, apologetically, you say, “No, you should get to cool off in your own home.”
The words you’re not saying hang in the air between you but you feel too foolish to speak them so instead you stand there in the doorway, picking at your nails, looking down at them instead of him. He reaches out and stills your fidgeting, his warm hand enveloping both of yours. “What is it, sweetheart? Will you talk to me, please?”
Your first instinct is to lie, but the way he subtly turns his ear to you lets you know he’s listening to your heartbeat. Your pulse picks up just from knowing he’ll know if you lie.
You let out a sigh. “I just— I feel like I can’t do anything right.”
His brows furrow and he lifts his chin. You wait for him to prompt you but he’s going to keep silent until you tell him everything. He’s stubborn like that.
You remind yourself that he actually wants to know. He’s asking you for the truth. You take a deep breath, gearing up for an act of trust, and you let it all spill out. “All I do is make everything worse. I mean, I don’t bring anything to this relationship. But I thought maybe I could make you a nice meal. Then I’d be good for something. And that blew up in my face. Almost literally.”
A thick silence follows and you think he must be struggling and failing to dispute anything you’ve said. But you realize you’ve read it all wrong when he says in a quiet and deadly voice, “You think you don’t bring anything to our relationship?”
That voice — his devil’s voice — never fails to light a fire inside you. The sudden heat on your skin makes the night air feel that much cooler, and you shiver. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, taking in all the ways your body has reacted to him.
He steps forward into your building, and you step back. “It seems I haven’t properly showed you how important you are to me.”
As he advances, you back down the hallway. You can’t take your eyes off his face. The naked desire, the grim determination, the devil stalking his prey. You nearly collide with the staircase banister, but he gently guides you out of the way with a hand on your hip. One he doesn’t remove until you get to your door.
He plucks the keys from your hands and feels for the right one before quickly unlocking your door. It swings open but you both stand at the threshold.
“Matt,” you begin. As much as your body is begging for him, you feel guilty that the whole situation got turned around. You were trying to prove something to him and now he’s the one putting in the effort. Again. “I just feel like I haven’t yet earned your love.”
He hangs his head, exhaling his frustration. “First of all, you don’t need to earn my love. Secondly, if you even think for one second that you don’t deserve it, then I’ve failed you.”
“No, stop! I’m the one who fucked up, okay?” You storm past him into your apartment. He follows you inside, shutting the door behind him.
He draws in a breath to say something, but thinks better of it. He nods and says simply, “Okay.”
It’s the way he gives in that has you on alert. He never just gives in; he’s planning something.
“Make it up to me, then,” he tells you.
“How?”
“Take off your pants.”
“Matt—”
“I said, take off your pants.”
“That can’t be all I’m good for.”
“Sweetheart, I promise you we will find a way for you to feel deserving in this relationship. But right now, let me surround myself with your scent so I can get this smoke out of my nostrils.”
How were you supposed to think straight when he says things like that to you? You really wanted to give him what he wanted, but it didn’t feel right. “Well then that’s just you doing something for me again and I still can’t give you anything.”
He flashes that grin he uses during cross-examination when he’s about to tear the prosecution’s case to shreds. “You wanted to feed me. Now let me eat.”
You don’t know how he does it. But as soon as you stopped protesting, he had you naked with your ass at the edge of the couch and him kneeling in front of you.
“Spread your legs for me,” he says in a low, soft voice. You do as he says. He takes one deep breath and whines, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip. “I can already taste you.”
He starts on your thighs, pressing kisses from your knee to the hinge at your hip all along the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You feel the heat of his breath pass over your cunt before he kisses his way down to your other knee.
He’s doing it on purpose. Taking his time and lavishing you with kisses. Giving again. The guilt washes over you. “Matt—”
He shushes you just as the pad of his thumb brushes at your entrance, collecting your slick before sliding up to your clit. Your eyes roll back into your head and your words die on your lips. He applies just the right amount of pressure as he works circles over your sensitive nub. You whimper at his touch and he gives a satisfied hum in response.
It feels so good yet it’s not enough. “Matty, please.” Your voice is barely even a whisper but he hears you loud and clear. He lifts his thumb to his lips, moaning as your taste hits his tongue at last.
You expect to feel his mouth on you but instead he brings his hands together and says, “Bless us O Lord and these Thy gifts—”
“Matt—”
His name is no sooner from your mouth than his lips wrap around your clit, and you cry out from the pleasure. His skilled tongue slides through your folds and dips into your entrance. You clench around nothing, pushing more of your juices onto his greedy tongue. You don’t have to worry about making a mess on the couch. He’d never let one drop of you spill.
You honestly don’t know which of you are making more noise. He’s so vocal even with his mouth as busy as it is. He grunts and moans with every exhale, and every inhale is a heavy intake through his nose — when it’s not pressed into you.
Your hand, outstretched at your side, grips a throw pillow, the stuffing clumped beneath your palm, your fingers wrinkling the fabric. Matt clamps his hand over yours — while his tongue continues swirling — and guides you to the crown of his head. You grip a fistful of his hair and instinctively pull him even tighter to you.
His moans muffle but grow more desperate. In truth, you try hard not to make more sound than your breath, just to catch every unhinged noise of his.
You’re so close now. You can’t help but raise your hips a bit, humping his face as his tongue works you over. The vibration of his growl sends you over the edge. No matter how quiet you’ve been trying to be, the force of your orgasm rips pleas from your lips. “Matty…fuck! Oh, Matty, hngh…”
As you come down from your high, you loosen your grip on his hair and he slowly pulls away from you. You take in the sight of him. A bit of his Daredevil suit peeks beneath his shirt. His hair is mussed, hairline damp with sweat, and his mouth and chin are coated with you. He licks his lips and smiles and it’s totally unfair how pretty he is just like this.
You let your head fall back, your breathing slowly returning to normal. But the drop in your heart rate coincides with the rise of your thoughts, and the feelings of guilt, shame, unworthiness. You don’t know why you can’t just accept his love. But no matter how much you try to trust that he means what he says, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve fooled him somehow. And he’s going to wake up one day realizing his mistake.
Almost as if he can read your thoughts —
“Sweetheart, if you need me between your legs to chase away your thoughts, I’m more than happy to be of service, but it’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with it.”
“Matt Murdock’s lecturing me on what’s healthy.”
“I know. I know.” He gives you that wide smile. So comforting that it’s impossible to feel anything but warmth when he smiles at you like that. Then he gives your thigh a little smack and says, “Let’s get cleaned up.”
Later, while you’re laying in bed together, his body cradled around yours, you’re both too tired to continue the conversation you know you need to have, a conversation of the ongoing variety. In the quiet and the dark you both feel your insecurities rise. Matt is pretty sure he’ll end up driving you away. You’re pretty sure he’ll realize you aren’t as great as he thinks and leave. But both of you really want this to work and you’re both willing to work on it.
Your thoughts hazy, your breath becoming rhythmic, you speak into the dark. “I don’t have to cook for you, you know. Like if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”
He hums in response, sleep nearly stealing his ability to speak. “If you want to… then I want that…too. But you don’t have to. But you can. You can use my kitchen whenever you want. If you want.”
You’re both quiet again and you nearly fall asleep then he says, “Just not for a few days. Let the smoke clear. ‘M staying at yours til then.”
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tallulah477 · 5 months
Text
Fill Me Up
Kinktober Day 15: Size Difference
Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader
Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Oral (female receiving), P in V, Size Difference, Belly bulge, Creampie, Mention of free hanging over a tall height (not sex related), Very brief mention of possibly falling to one’s death
Word Count: 3.1K
A/N: Guess who has full use of her account again babyyyyyy! Now no one's comment sections or asks are safe. Thank you, tumblr, for finally fixing the glitch after a week. Anywho~ fic is late (again), but I hope you enjoy it <3
Summary: There’s plenty of things Neteyam loves about how tiny you are, but none of them can compare to how you feel wrapped around his cock. 
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Translations:
Tewgn - Loincloth
Yerik - Animal resembling a gazelle or antelope
Tawtute - Human
Palulukan/Thanator - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther
Nantang - Hyena/wolf-like animal
Tanhì - Star, bioluminescent freckle
Neteyam’s favorite thing about you is how tiny you are compared to him. 
When he first saw you, you captured his attention completely. He had been hunting a yerik near the human outpost, his body hidden in the foliage behind the cover of some nearby plants, bow drawn at the ready to take his shot. 
A rustle on the opposite side of the small clearing grabbed his attention, halting his movements, and the yerik lifted its head slightly from where it had been nibbling on some bits of tree bark. 
You slowly walked through the brush, tiny hands lifted up to show that you meant no harm as your eyes stayed glued on the yerik. Neteyam watched in curiosity as you slowly approached the animal, moving cautiously, careful not to startle it as you moved closer. To his surprise, the animal let you. Deeming you no threat, the animal went back to its snack and didn’t move an inch when you reached out to place a delicate hand on its blue striped skin. 
Your smile, even through your mask, was blinding and Neteyam’s eyes widened as the sound of your giggle hit his eardrums. He thinks that was the moment he fell for you completely - just watching you admire your small hands on the larger animal’s back. He watched you the rest of the afternoon, leaving his hunt behind and stalking you through the forest as you studied various plants, taking samples and shoving them in a small backpack slung over your shoulder. 
He learned you worked closely with the human scientists, were one of them actually - ‘a very smart xenobotanist’ his father had told him when he asked. He had never seen you before, always choosing to avoid the cramped and all too chemical smelling lab and making sure to stay outside when he would be sent to get Lo’ak and Kiri during their visits with Spider and Kiri’s mom. 
What a mistake that was, he had thought. 
When he finally got the courage to meet you face to face, he was worried you were going to panic about the size difference. He stands at a respectable 9 feet tall, towering over your smaller frame at nearly twice your height. His build is even bigger than most Na’vi as well, a benefit from having some human genes courtesy of his once human father. His body is lean and long like a Na’vi, and there’s no denying that the average Na’vi is incredibly strong, especially compared to humans. But the muscles in his shoulders, arms, and back are much more visible than the average Na’vi, his thighs bulkier in their strength, and he knows the look makes him seem even more intimidating than he actually is. 
But you don’t react the way he thinks you might, and is shocked even more when he presents you with the small woven bracelet adorned with polished beads that he made you as a courting gift and you don’t immediately throw it back at him. 
Instead, you take the gift graciously, holding it to your chest like it’s something precious. He watches with wide eyes as your own scan down his body, slowly taking in the angles of his face, the dip of his collarbones, the hard canvas of his chest and down the flat plane of his belly. They hover a bit longer around his tewng, your tongue poking out to wet your lips, and when your eyes flick back up to meet his, they’re completely blown - only a small sliver of color left around the darks of your pupils. 
The smirk gracing your beautiful, plump lips is absolutely wicked. 
Being with you comes with different expectations than being with a Na’vi woman. You need help, a lot - your tiny tawtute body is not equipped to handle the extreme environment that Pandora throws at you. Neteyam can navigate the terrain just fine, stepping over fallen branches or large growths of shrubbery, jumping large rocks and creeks like it doesn’t even phase him to do so. Because it doesn’t, his body was made for it. Yours, on the other hand, was not.
So Neteyam does his best to help you out. He’d carry you around all the time, if it were up to him. He doesn’t mind. Loves it even - loves the feel of your soft body against his as you cling to him. So small and easy to carry, arms wrapping around his neck while his big hands support your thighs as you hang on him like the small backpack you were wearing the first day he saw you. 
But you’re a stubborn woman. An ‘I can do it myself’ kind of woman, and, even though each journey without him carrying you takes significantly longer than when he does, he doesn’t mind, enjoying every additional second he has in your presence. He’ll hold your hand, or give you a supportive hand on your butt to lift you up and over any obstacle, because you’re just so beautiful with that proud grin on your face when you’ve accomplished something hard. 
He likes to tease you, using his height to his advantage. You’re notorious for stealing the last few bites of Neteyam’s yovo fruit. Your excuse is that since you’re the one that cut it, you should be able to have some too. Neteyam always agrees with this fact, but you knock back bite after bite with the desperation of a hungry thanator, and when it comes to the end of the bowl and he’s only had a few pieces himself - he knows exactly how to put a stop to your yovo fruit destruction. 
“Neteyam,” You whine, jumping up and trying to reach his arm to pull the bowl back down. His arm stays solid where it is as he pops another bite of fruit in his mouth. “Give it back! I want some,”
“You ate the whole thing already,” He laughs, grabbing your reaching hand with the one not currently holding the bowl and pressing it back against your chest. “My little hungry palulukan, let me eat some, yes?”
He makes up for his ‘inexcusable use of his gargantuan height’ by cuddling you after, wrapping his entire body around yours as he pulls you close. You feel so safe in his embrace, protected from everyone and everything who could ever try to hurt you. Just let them try to come and grab you from his unwavering hold - your big, strong teddy bear who’s flat nose presses against your neck, docile and sweet with his shielding hold around his love, turning fierce and wild at the first hint of any danger. 
He loves your curves, loves how soft and squishy you are compared to everyone else. The Na’vi women are all lean, hard muscle, beautiful in their own right - but you, your hips that mold under his fingers, plump chest that feels so good under his head when he rests on it, small fingers playing with his braids that lull him to sleep. No one can compare to you. 
And he loses his breath when he thinks about how much you trust him. He’s your protector, he knows that more than anyone. He would lay down his life for you in a heartbeat, fight tooth and nail to keep you safe from anything - but you have these . . . adrenaline rushes. Moments where you can’t help but want to feel a sense of excitement and the feeling of complete freedom that comes with it from doing something daring. You're able to contain it mostly - it’s not like you’re jumping off mountains or cliff diving into the freezing water. 
You like to test him, try to catch him off guard by climbing on tall rocks or on the lower tree branches and throwing yourself at Neteyam giggling like a nantang about to attack. He always catches you, arms wrapping safely around your smaller frame and never letting you hit the ground. The antics used to scare him, prompting him to give you long, frustrated lectures about how he’s responsible for your safety and you shouldn’t purposefully put yourself in dangerous situations. But you would just shrug him off, heart still beating faster in your excitement and tell him that he should just always be there to catch you then. 
Now, he helps you get your fill - laying on his stomach on a high tree limb as he slowly lowers you over the side, large hand wrapped securely around your forearm while your own hand wraps around his wrist. He lets you dangle there, suspended in the air over nothing but what would be a long drop and a rather nasty death if you actually fell. But he would never drop you, and the look of pure thrill and happiness on your face as you hang there overlooking the vast expanse of forest and feeling like you’re invincible always makes his chest flood with warmth. He especially loves it when you look up at him and grin, reaching up to grab his wrist with your other hand, too, and playfully kicking your feet, swinging slightly and using his arm like your very own personal swingset. 
But his favorite thing about your size is how tight you feel wrapped around him. 
You look so gorgeous, laying on the forest floor and spread out for him like the delicious feast you are. Your back arches, breasts jiggling with each movement as you grind harder against his face. He sucks savagely at your clit, two fingers curling just so inside of you, pressing against that special spot that makes you see stars.
“Neteyam, please,” You whine, leg lifting up to drape over his shoulder, trying to pull him closer. 
“What’s wrong, tanhì?” He murmurs, voice sending vibrations through the sensitive nub between your thighs. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks up at you through hooded lids, the usual amber of his irises nearly completely overtaken by the darks of his pupils.
“Stop teasing,” You breathe, walls clamping down tightly around his fingers. His head looks so big between your thighs, his fingers thick and long where they’re thrusting inside you. “Just put it in already. Want you to fill me up.”
“You’re not ready,” He says, sounding drunk as he breathes in your arousal. “Need to stretch you out more.”
“I’m not an amateur,” You grunt, glaring down at him. “I’m stretched out enough,” 
His eyes stay locked on yours, unamused at your little tantrum even as he gives your clit another firm lick, textured tongue swiping across the swollen nub as pushes his last finger into your drenched cunt. You whimper at the stretch, humping his fingers and face as you chase your orgasm. You feel so full already, so full with only three fingers and it's not enough. Not enough when you know just how full you’ll really feel with his cock inside you. His long, hard, thick, beautiful cock that he’s currently pressing into the ground but that should be pushing into you instead. 
The coil in your belly tightens, and your fingers grip onto his hair, pulling the braids tightly as the pressure bursts and you cum, squirting all over his face and thrusting fingers. He works you through your orgasm, fingers digging into your sopping hole and lips attaching to your clit as you ride it out. Wave after wave of pleasure rushing through your body as you scream. 
When your orgasm subsides, he pulls his fingers from you, ears perking at the wet noise your pussy makes as it tries desperately to stay clinged to him. You pant, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you watch him kneel in front of you - large body blocking the setting sun behind him and you watch in awe at how he can look so beautiful in his orange glowing halo. 
His skilled fingers untie his tewng, pulling it from his body and letting his hard cock slap against his belly. Your mouth waters at the sight. It stands proudly, tall and thick and nearly the size of your forearm - dark blue stripes and sparkling tanhì decorating the shaft all the way up to the lilac tip that’s already dripping with precum. 
You want it inside you so badly. 
He moves to crawl over you, lips pressing reverently against your neck before you pull back, mischievous smirk on your face as you crawl backwards away from him. 
His hairless brows furrow at your distance. “Ma y/n, what is wrong?”
“You’re so mean to me,” You tell him, scooting back even further as he tries to get closer to you. 
He rolls his eyes. “I’m mean to you?”
“Mhm,” You hum. He moves closer again, faster this time as he tries to cage you under him, but you scramble away again. “I beg and beg for your cock, and all you do is deny me.”
“I’m trying to give it to you now,” He huffs.
“Well, what if I don’t want it now?” You say with all the attitude you can muster, and your heart pounds in excitement at his dark glare.
“Woman,” He growls, a wicked grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Come here,”
With lightning quickness, he grabs your ankles and pulls your body towards him. You squeal at the sudden movement, giggling as your body flops when he manhandles you into the position he wants. He flips you over onto your stomach, gripping your hips and dragging your lower half up so they’re flush against his. One of his hands finds your upper back, pushing you down further into the moss covered ground and pinning you against the forest floor. 
You moan when you feel his cock slide through your slick folds, gathering your wetness on his length as his tip bumps rhythmically against your clit. 
“You don’t have to be a brat, tanhì,” He says, his grin audible in his voice as he rocks his hips, and your breathing hitches when the head of his cock catches on your entrance. “You know I’ll always give you what you want.”
You whimper desperately as he starts to push inside of you, large cock bullying its way into your tight pussy. The stretch is glorious, your body molding to take his length, and the burn making your mouth fall open in a silent scream as he pushes in further, inch by inch - and it feels so good, so fucking good and you cry for more, cry for faster despite the fact that you feel like you might split in half.
He ignores you, pushing into you at the pace that he wants, not you. And you both let out satisfied moans when he’s finally buried deep inside you. You feel like he’s in your guts and a large dopey smile graces your lips at the thought of your body being completely used by him, any and all important body parts and organs pushed to the side to make space for his even more important cock. 
You can feel yourself dripping on the ground beneath you, long lines of slick dripping from off your clit and onto the moss below. The burn has subsided into a dull pleasure, and your eyelashes flutter as Neteyam adjusts his stance behind you, leveraging himself onto one knee with one foot planted on the ground. Your pussy clings to him as he pulls halfway out, not wanting to let even an inch of him leave your tight heat, and you gasp when he slams back in.
“What happened, baby?” Neteyam teases, pulling back out and pushing in again, your eyes crossing when you feel his tip kiss your cervix. “You had so much to say earlier.”
“Nughh, f-fuck,” You whine. 
You can do nothing but take it as he thrusts into you, fingers so tight on your hips that you know there’s going to be bruises afterwards. His cock drags against your walls, balls slapping against your clit with each thrust, and sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine. Your hands try to find purchase on the ground but can’t find anything to grab onto, and your fingernails dig into the dirt just to do something. 
Your second orgasm is quickly approaching, the intense stretch and constant battering against your cervix combined with Neteyam’s husky voice in your ear grunting ‘you feel so tight, baby. Feel so good. Fuck,” pushing you closer and closer to that sweet edge of bliss that you’ve been craving ever since you dragged Neteyam out here. 
“Teyam, g-gonna c-cum,” You whimper, and in an instant he drags you up by the back of your neck, hand sliding around to the front of your throat to keep you pressed against his sternum. 
“Yeah, you’re gonna cum?” He asks, huge hand moving to caress the large bulge now visible in your belly. “Gonna cum for me, tanhì?”
You whimper at the contact and your hand drops to massage at your throbbing clit. “Please! Please, I’m so close. So fucking close,”
“Shh,” He says, hand gently rubbing the jumping bulge as he continues to rock into you. “Cum for me, baby,”
You scream, pleasure ripping through you when his hand presses down hard on the bulge. Your orgasm rips through you like a freight train, your hand rubbing furiously over your clit as you squirt all over the ground below you. He roars as your pussy clenches and pulses around him, drenching him in your essence, and with only a few extra thrusts he’s cumming too, spilling into your warm, tight, tawtute body and filling you up to the brim with his release. 
It’s too much for you, too much and too hot as he paints your insides white. He’s still cumming even when you're full - his release spilling out of you from around his cock and mixing with your squirt in a puddle. You shake and twitch in his hold, a long hum of satisfaction ripping from your throat as your eyes roll back into your head. 
You can hear him panting into your ear behind you, trying to recover from his own explosive orgasm, but he’s ready all the same when your body goes limp in his hold. He picks you up, carefully pulling your exhausted body off of his cock, and his strong arms cradle you to his chest. 
“Just sleep now, ma y/n,” He says, gently brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from where it's stuck to your mask. “I’ll take care of you,”
A sleepy smile graces your lips and you let yourself fall asleep without argument. You know he’ll take care of you. He’ll always take care of you. Neteyam Sully - fierce Omatikaya warrior, eldest son of Toruk Makto, your protector, your lover.
And the man who can fill you up like no other.
**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!
Taglist: @eywaite @teyamshuman
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
Text
Adopt a Jock Part One / Part Two / Part Three PART FOUR YOU ARE HERE Part five 
As always I own my entire soul to  @chalkysgarbagefire
Steve didn't show up to lunch that Monday. 
This was a problem, because Gareth and Eddie had carefully prepared the entirety of Hellfire to help make Steve play a D&D one-shot. 
(Well, mostly Eddie--and he'd left out the parts about how the entire goal was to acclimate Harrington to hugs and high fives. 
Gareth assumed that was a more careful conversation they'd all have later, outside of school grounds.) 
"Eds, if you jiggle your legs any harder the table is going to take flight." Gareth complained, scooting away before he got jabbed in the gut. 
"Where is he!?" Eddie muttered, glancing at his watch for what had to be the twenty-fifth time. “Are we sure he showed up to class this morning?" 
Stewart, the only person to share a class with Harrington, gave their leader an exasperated look. "Yes, I’m sure." 
He flicked his spoon, pointing it towards Eddie. "And yes he looked fine, yes, everything seemed normal, no I don't know why he's not here and no, no one fucking abducted him, or threatened him, or any of the other crazy excuses you keep coming up with!” 
Eddie’s frown deepened as Gareth and Grant traded concerned glances. 
"Maybe he just didn't want to sit with us today." Jeff remarked, approaching the topic with the same care a technician had when approaching a live bomb. 
Gareth thought it was a smart move, considering Eddie looked like he was about to rocket into the ceiling. 
"He's sat with us everyday, why would he change now?"  Eddie argued. 
"Maybe there's a basketball thing happening. Or he's saying hi to his jock buddies." Gareth tried, using the same cautious tone Jeff had. 
"We’re his friends!" Eddie snapped, looking two seconds away from losing his shit entirely.
 Almost unconsciously, Gareth and Jeff both raised a hand almost to try and help calm him.
Like he was a wild horse and they were the preteen girls in the movies determined to establish a bond before he killed their grandpa or some shit. 
This was what happened when one deviated from a predetermined Munson-made plan. Not that Steve had known that of course, but then, he wasn’t exactly catching the fallout, was he?
‘I am making Harrington buy lunch after this.’ Gareth thought, as Eddie returned to bouncing both his legs almost frantically. ‘From someplace expensive.’ 
"Maybe Hargrove ate him."  Grant suggested, as if the very thought of Billy Hargrove wouldn’t set Eddie off on a rampage. 
"I could see it." Stewart agreed. "Dude has cannibal vibes." 
"Not. Helping." Jeff hissed, his palm still in the air and hovering vaguely over Eddie’s shoulder. 
Sure enough, Eddie’s entire body tensed at the mere mention of Hawkin High’s new King. "That’s it. We’re going to find him.” 
“Have fun.” Tiff said, waving him off. 
Eddie glared. “We’re all going.” He practically spat.
With a put upon sigh, Tiff set her food down. "You really want to spend the rest of our lunch period stalking around the hallways looking for Harrington?" 
Eddie gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white. 
"Yes Tiff, I do." He said, a manic gleam in his eyes. 
He shoved up from the table, striking the kind of pose he often used during his rants. “This is a break in a pattern of behavior. A veer from an established path! This is the very first sign in every horror movie that something is wrong!” 
He went to put his foot up on the edge of the table, like a pirate captain looking to the seas ahead, but instead missed it entirely and fell forward. 
Eddie flailed for a moment, before managing to catch himself on the edge of the table. Instantly he began acting like he’d intended to fall like that from the start. 
“I refuse to let any of us behave like idiotic, stupid, horror movie characters.” He finished dramatically, hair hanging in his face. 
“You’ve been watching that Sherlock Holmes show again, haven’t you?.” Jeff asked him flatly. 
“Among other things.” Gareth muttered, because as usual, he was the one who’d been watching said shows and movies with Eddie.
Not that it bothered him any, just that it meant he got to watch his best friend adopt new behaviors in real time. 
Eddie flew back up, flinging his hair out of his face with a dramatic toss of his head. 
“Come on my Watson’s! Let’s go find Harrington. I have a one-shot to pitch dammit!” Eddie outright yelled, flinging his arm skyward once again. 
He got several startled glances in the cafeteria for it, but as used to Eddie as they all were, no one bothered to say anything to him. 
“Why the fuck would we all be Watson?” Stewart muttered as he stood. 
“I agree. Obviously, I’d be Watson.” Gareth said, also getting to his feet. “You’d be Mrs. Hudson.” 
“Oh fuck you, I would at least be the other crazy smart dude.” 
“Mycroft or Moriarty?”
“Mycroft.” Grant and Jeff chanted as one, the both of them putting their food away. 
“Not one of you is any Sherlock Holmes character. Except maybe the dog.” Tiff cut in with an eye roll as she finally gave in and stood herself. "Now come on, let's go take Eddie for a walk." 
Said metalhead flipped her the bird, but otherwise didn't protest. 
(Probably because this wasn't the first time they'd had to do laps with Eddie.) 
xXx
"Maybe he just went home." Gareth said reasonably some fifteen or so minutes later. 
They'd made their way through the school, Eddie obnoxiously bursting through all the bathroom doors to loudly (and embarrassingly) yell for Steve.
They hadn't seen hide nor perfectly shaped hair of their wayward jock, and none of them were looking forward to trapezing around the outside of the school to hunt for him.
Thankfully, they didn't have to. 
"Wait.” Tiffany asked, as they passed by the small little hallway leading to the art and photography rooms. “Is that Steve?"
Immediately all heads turned towards the direction she had pointed in. 
"I think so?" Jeff guessed, eyeing the guy standing in the hallway down from them. 
Gareth squinted, trying to get a better look. "Looks like." He agreed. "Also looks like Tiff was right, he is hanging out with other people." 
Eddie tensed at that. A true feat, Gareth thought, because he was already wound so tight he looked in danger of snapping in half. 
 "Fucking useless." Tiff muttered. 
Louder, she said; "Let's try that again. Isn't that our idiot jock with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she supposedly cheated on him with?" 
The lot of them watched as Steve stood in one of his classic defensive positions (arms tucked into his sides, back rigid and chin down, like he was about to perform some kind of football tackle.) 
Nancy Wheeler faced him, her own chin raised and her arms crossed like she was about to give the lecture of a lifetime. 
In between them stood Jonathan Byers, though he was angled more towards his girlfriend than Steve. The guy practically radiated discomfort but seemed to be managing. 
Even if his shoulders were practically above his ears.  
It didn't exactly look like a two on one situation, but then it didn't not look like it either. 
"Shit." Gareth said, which summed up the situation rather nicely. 
"Should we go save him?" Grant asked, concerned. 
Not one person moved.
 Instead, all eyes went to their fearless leader--who was uncharacteristically silent. 
Gareth took in the narrowed, frantic-turned-furious look upon his friend's face and wondered vaguely if he was going to have to stop a murder today.
Possibly two, depending on Byer’s involvement. 
"Defensive position boys!" Tiffany called out, breaking the spell with sheer volume as she made the decision for them. "Eddie, you with us or not?" 
Brave words for her, considering Gareth knew damn well that Tiff was often more bark than bite. 
Thankfully, it worked. 
"Right!" Eddie barked, jerking in place as he came back to himself. "Our Stevie needs us, men and Tiff!" 
He pointed forwards, like a war general leading a charge. "Hellfire, move out!" 
Fanning out into a triangle behind their club president, the lot of them followed as Eddie marched forward. 
"You know I didn't mean it like that." Nancy was saying, and even though Gareth didn't know her he could tell she was frustrated. 
 "You have people you can talk to. You have m--" she cut herself off when Eddie strode up next to Steve. 
Then blinked rapidly, reminding Gareth of a startled cocker spaniel when the rest of Hellfire fanned out around Harrington like wolves guarding their young. 
(Or brightly colored and very angry ducks, but wolves sounded cooler. 
Plus the last time he'd said something like this aloud; Grant had loudly informed him it was actually Muskox that made protective circles, Stewart brought up that triceratops were cooler, Jeff decided they should be bees and Tiffany had gone off on a tangent about badly done animal behavioral studies.) 
"I daresay I agree!" Eddie said, taking a dramatic leap forward and startling Steve and Byers both. 
That alone was a cause to worry--Gareth couldn't recall a single time Steve wasn't hyper-aware of his surroundings enough to get properly lost in it. 
At least lost enough that he missed an entire group of people approaching. 
"Steve is more than welcome to talk to people! His people." Eddie leaned forward a touch, the smirk on his face the one he used when he was playing up his role as the town's satanist cult leader. 
To her credit, Nancy recovered remarkably fast. "I take it you believe that's you?" 
Eddie reared back, like a cobra rising to strike. "Why Nancy Wheeler, Stevie here is an adult and can choose who he wants to talk to.”
He turned, one hand over his heart and the other held out to Steve. " Ain’t that right, big boy?”
Nancy and Byers both just stared. 
Gareth couldn’t blame them, he was staring too. 
Apparently deciding Eddie was too ridiculous to deal with, Nancy returned instead to talking to Steve--who, Gareth noted with more than his fair share of pride, looked a bit more grounded now that Hellfire had arrived. 
“I understand that we’re in a weird place right now, but you have to  know I still care about you, right?” Nancy bit her lip, clearly unhappy to have an audience but plowing ahead anyway. 
"I'm fine, Nance.” Steve told her, voice steady, but growing flat. 
 He was shutting down--shutting her out, if not everyone out. Gareth knew, if only because he’d watched Harrington do it to them more than once. 
(Knew because he himself had shut downs just like this. Eddie and Nancy were the kind of people who got loud in their anger, demanding people see and face them. 
Gareth on the other hand, even with his more explosive temper, often ended up more like Steve when faced with breakdowns with people he cared about. He didn’t want to hurt them. To say the wrong thing, to lash out when someone was just trying to help.
It was safer to shut up, back away and put some distance between yourself and whoever had pissed you off.) 
Either Nancy wasn’t aware of that or was too deep into her own emotions to see it, because she took a half step forward. “I know you’re not fine. I know you, Steve.” 
“Not anymore you don’t.” Steve responded, and Gareth wondered if he realized he was leaning away from her--and towards Eddie. 
Considering the way Wheeler’s eyes bounced between them, he knew she definitely had. 
Quite possible Byers too, from how he had to stop himself from pulling Nancy away. 
“I’ve been working hard to become someone else.” Steve added. “So you don’t have to feel responsible for me. I’m not your problem anymore.”  He spoke without malice, just with the pure emptiness of someone who completely believed everything he said. 
“Steve-” Nancy protested, but Eddie cut her off. 
"You heard him." He said, peacocking his little social win in a way only Eddie could. "Now if you don't mind, I have extremely important things to discuss and you have cut drastically into my time." 
He flicked his fingers in a shoo gesture, one that made Nancy's eyes spark in a way that quite frankly, terrified Gareth. 
"Fine." She grit out through clenched teeth. "You know I’m always available to talk, Steve." 
She strode off, passing Steve and the rest of Hellfire without a glance backwards. 
"Sorry man." Jonathan muttered apologetically to Steve as he passed, following after his girlfriend. 
Steve waved him off. 
"Well she's just a delight." Jeff muttered, once Nancy was well out of hearing range. 
Steve's entire chest heaved in a sigh, swaying slightly backwards as if the entire confrontation had physically drained him. 
"She's trying to help.” Steve muttered softly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She's just...coming at it wrong." 
He turned, seeming to finally notice that all of Hellfire was there. "What are you all doing out here anyway?" 
"Rescuing you." Grant informed him. 
"From Nancy and Jonathan?"  Steve said in disbelief. 
Like Byers hadn't supposedly kicked his ass already. Nevermind the moping Wheeler had caused. 
(The entire school had witnessed the moping. 
It was, after all, part of what had drawn Eddie to Steve.) 
"Yes." Tiff replied bluntly. “Also if she corners you like that again, I will make it my personal mission in life to top all her test scores.” 
"I--okay." Steve blinked rapidly, clearly unsure of how to process that.
“Not that I needed rescuing,” He continued after a moment, staring at the whole group. “But why were you looking for me in the first place?” 
His voice was slowly recovering, coming out of that weird flatness it had scrunched itself into. It was an excellent sign, a sign of trust, and Gareth leapt to keep it before someone could say something stupid and fuck it up. 
"Eddie needed you to pitch his next one shot idea and couldn't wait for you to show up." Gareth admitted. “We decided to hunt you down since you were missing lunch.” 
“Oh.” Steve blinked again, and though it’d be concerning on anyone else, the guy just looked like a lost puppy. “I’m sorry man.”
“It's alright Stevie. I just thought you'd totally ditched us.” Eddie sniffed dramatically, looking like he was going to wing an arm around Steve’s shoulder but thought better of it. “No biggie.” 
He pouted, and made absolutely sure Steve could see him do it. 
“Is this you trying to get more of my M&M brownies?” Steve asked after a moment. 
“Oh my dear, sweet, athletic friend. Not at all. Instead, you are going to play the one shot I worked so hard on.” Eddie bounced his shoulder into him as he spoke.  
 It was a weird little compromise the two of them seemed to have, since Gareth had regularly witnessed Eddie ping-ponging off Steve’s shoulders. “Let us break your tabletop cherry.” 
“Or what?” Steve asked, the tiniest bit of humor peaking through. 
Eddie stared at him, abruptly still and completely serious. “I will cry, Steven. Loudly.” 
It brought a small smile to Steve’s face.
“Fine. I’ll play your dumb dweeb game.” He said, and couldn’t seem to stop the smile from overtaking his face when Eddie threw his arms in the air and cheered. 
“Come on, I’m pretty sure the bell rang forever ago.” Jeff said, as they began to venture out back to the main hallway. 
(“Hey guys?” Steve asked, right before they all split up to go to their various classes. “Thanks. For the save.”
Eddie positively beamed. “Anytime, Steve. Anytime.”) 
xXx 
“Hey Gareth?” Steve asked a few days later, joining Gareth in the library during his free period. 
(Gareth himself was skipping, because if he had to listen to yet another lesson on the Crucible he was going to declare himself a satan worshiping witch and demand to be hanged.) 
Gareth hummed to show he heard, as he carefully took stock of the loot he’d gotten from their last game. Eddie had been pretty good about it for once, and he wanted to look things over before the one shot. 
“Can I ask kind of a weird question?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. 
“Shoot, Stevie.” Gareth replied, finally comfortable enough to use the main nickname Eddie had nailed the poor guy with. 
“Did Eddie give me a character with bad eyesight or “night vision” or whatever, because he thinks I have bad eyesight?” Steve’s fingers made sassy little air quotations around “night vision” because he knew damn well it wasn’t called that and didn’t want to get chewed out. 
It was appreciated, even if it was cheeky as shit. 
Gareth stopped writing. “Why’d you think that?” 
“He just keeps acting like I’m my character.” Steve replied with a shrug. “Like all that stuff we planned  about how my character gets around and relies on the group since he can’t see that great in the daylight? He does it for me too.” 
“It’s Eddie, he’s eccentric.” Gareth struggled to keep a straight face, trying not to give the game away. 
Laughing would absolutely clue Steve in to the fact that Eddie was doing it on purpose. 
“He just keeps telling me before he touches me. Outside of the game.” Steve continued, utterly baffled. 
Of course, Eddie was doing far more than that, in order to keep up the appearance that he was just being a weirdo who was too into his game. (Instead of trying to alert Steve to the fact he was going to lean on him, hug him, or do any other thing involving skin to skin contact that usually made Harrington panic.)
“If you don’t like it you should tell him,” Gareth said. He knew it was the better option, encouraging Steve to communicate. They could come up with something else if this was too weird (as frankly, many of Eddie’s plans could be. 
Bless the guy but he had a habit of going for the dramatic over the practical.) 
“No!” Steve protested, far too quickly. 
He cleared his throat with a cough, and continued in a much calmer voice, “No, I don’t wanna ruin his fun or anything.” 
As far as excuses go for letting something happen it was a weak one, but Gareth wasn’t going to call him on it. If Steve wanted to hide behind Eddie and his “fun”  then Gareth would happily pretend to buy it. 
Would buy whatever excuse Steve needed, to help make the guy feel more comfortable and like himself than the still often vacant ghost that hung around now. 
“Just wanted to know if he actually thought my eyesight sucked.” Steve finished in a mumble. 
“Well you did trip over the curb that one time.” Gareth teased playfully, and shot a grin at Harrington when that awkward look of his melted into something more offended. 
“I was walking backwards!” Steve defended, his normal, almost bitchy tone returning. 
“Uh-huh. And what about when you almost ate shit over that garbage can and Eddie had to save you?” Gareth taunted. 
He grinned, watching as a blush overtook the older boys face, Steve glancing away frantically and--
Oh. 
Oh!
'Oh-ho, ho, ho!' Gareth thought with absolute glee. The entire fucking school knew what Steve looked like when he had a crush, (Steve himself had made sure of that with Nancy) and Gareth recognized the beginning of it happening all over again.
Steve Harrington had a crush.
On Eddie.
Gareth could work with this.
“You know….” He  paused, grin turning sly as a sudden idea came to him. “If you want to mess with Eddie a little bit I have an idea.” 
Steve stared at him, confused. “Why would we want to mess with him?” 
Gareth leaned forward. “Because pranks are fun, Harrington. Legend has it you even used to do them.”  
Steve still didn't look convinced, but the nice thing about a man like Steve was that all Gareth had to appeal to was his sense of adventure. 
“Now." He clapped his hands together in a move that had very much been stolen years ago from Eddie. "How good are your acting skills?
Meant to post this yesterday but I got surprise laid off last week and that pushed me back a bit, sorries! Absolutely related, I have a Ko-Fi now lmao. It’s https://ko-fi.com/sp0o0kyghosthost 
Unemployment should go through just fine so I don’t really think I need to full panic but hey if you wanna throw me a dollar and yell “Dance writer dance!” I’ll do a lil tippy-tap jig. 
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dakimomoe · 5 months
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You still remember it.
Burnt into the back of your eyelids like a scar.
The orphanage.
The cold, lifeless, barren gray walls. The creaky wooden floorboards that groaned and moaned in each step.
A place you used to call home.
But you escaped.
Perhaps in your new life at Launwyce Academy you could start anew, find a way to heal the invisible scars on your soul.
For now, all you can do is walk forward.
One step at a time.
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Lightweaver: Chosen is an upcoming modern fantasy IF for 18+ players and older. Use of elemental powers is inspired by Avatar: The Legend of Aang/Korra.
A world where elemental deities share a fraction of their powers to their chosen, bringing upon the age of weavers; humans with the ability to manipulate the elements of their patron.
You have been chosen by a mysterious lightning deity—blessing you with the power to weave lightning. But with a troubled childhood haunting your every step, your new abilities present a double-edged sword; raw potential tangled with repressed trauma.
You grapple with love and tenderness, yet remain trapped in a paradox—yearning for affection while recoiling from kindness.
The choices you make, the support you receive, and the inner strength you harness define your journey—a journey fraught with anguish, but one that promises a life outside [i]Mother's[/i] grasp.
Two divergent paths lay ahead.
Will you let yourself heal and grow, or will you fall deeper into the void?
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Play as a touch-averse customizable MC with a troubled past, male or female.
Learn how to use your newfound lightning powers to its fullest potential. Anything’s possible if you’re smart enough!
Use your powers for good and be admired. Or use them to become a menace in society and be feared.
Participate in Launwyce’s many academy events and competitive tournaments. Show the weaving world what you’re made of.
A potential pet has also chosen you as their human; teach it a trick or two!
Shape your MC’s personality however you want. Certain choices also help shape the rest of your past.
How the MC deals with their trauma is entirely up to you.
Push away or make new relationships. Everyone has their own inner demons you can unveil.
Character-driven narrative and slow burn character development.
Eventually face the monster from your past, Mother.
3 different endings to branch into!
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Luna/Leo Bancroft | 18 | Fire Weaver
They were the first to notice you falling.
A warm and gentle soul. But there's a certain air about them, the kind that makes them seem untouchable. It's a type of muted cheer, one that carries the tension of maintaining a persona, but perhaps not a façade.
Despite their unusual aura, they're attentive and smart, not to mention remarkably insightful.
Alice/Alec Langley | 18 | Water Weaver
They were the one who made sure you landed safely; and with flourish.
There’s always an iciness to their voice, but their eyes carry something you can’t pinpoint. Something soft but sharp at the same time, like a gentle warning.
They enjoy duels and challenging situations; thus, will meet you head on if you ever decide to be rude to them.
June/Juno Patel | 19 | Earth Weaver
There’s always a frown stuck to their face, always carrying an air of aloofness and disdain. They have a certain drive that is unmatched by many.
Their sharp observant eyes and stony aura give people pause, but they’re fiercely protective and kind.
Surprisingly, they’re easy to read, and it makes interacting with them oddly satisfying.
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MOODY.INK | DASHINGDON | FORUM | DEDICATED DEVBLOG
NEW UPDATE! 14/12/2023
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lithiumfae · 1 year
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sexy habits they have.
you can read my new remus fic here and my snape fic here.
sirius black:
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nods his head while looking down at your lips when you’re explaining something to him.
when you’re laying down with him he hums while listening to you talk, one of his fingers stroking your thigh.
if you’re sitting in front of him but you’re not close enough to his liking he will hook his foot around one of the legs of the chair and drag you towards him.
he always calls you by your full name, of course he sometimes uses nicknames or pet names but he prefers saying your name properly.
if he’s trying to show you something but you’re not paying attention he will grab the back of your head and make you look at him. gently of course.
says “oh?” when you tell him about something that’s upsetting you. it’s hot because he crouches down a little to look at you in the eyes, he then repeats “oh?”
he likes to stare at you while you’re doing your hair, head resting on his hand and a smirk on his face. you don’t know what’s going through his head.
if you braid your hair he will grab one of the braids and hold it between his fingers and look at it while you talk.
“so smart, my girl.”
remus lupin:
(sorry for the spicy gift i just HAD to add it, remus is my weakness)
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he always notices when you add something new to your hair. it could be a new headband, new hair clips or anything like that.
when he is really interested in what you’re saying he will rest his arm behind your head on the sofa, his brows furrowed.
he is the type to brace himself against the doorframe.
he blinks a little slower when he is trying to show you he cares about what you’re telling him.
acts of service. acts of service. acts of service!!!!!!!!!
he never lets you cook.
always offers to help brush your hair and he will sometimes pretends your brush got stuck in your hair just so he can pull it a little, you know he’s doing it on purpose because you hear him giggle every time.
when you’re sitting in the common room he likes to sneak behind you and sit on the back rest of the couch so you’re left in between his open legs.
“you smell just as pretty as you look.”.
peter pettigrew:
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although he hates PDA he always makes sure to be touching some part of your body if you’re sitting next to each other, it can be your shoulder, your pinky, etc.
without thinking he rolls his sleeves and sighs when something is on his mind.
sometimes he lets you talk and talk for what feels like hours until he shuts you up by planting a fat kiss on your lips, he is too polite to tell you to shut up.
being around the other three can be quite overwhelming for anyone even peter so at the end of the day when he sneaks into your room he sits down on your bed and once again lets a sigh escape his mouth while stretching his neck side to side, his eyes closed.
sometimes he just stares at you without saying anything, if it was anyone else looking at you like that you’d think he was angry but he couldn’t be angry or annoyed because soon enough he whispers “come give me a kiss, yeah?”
contrary to his reputation as the skittish more weak willed member of the marauders he tends to be quite assertive when talking to you. he seems to always know what he wants.
staring is a peter thing. in the middle of making out he will pull back and grab your face not letting you move just to… stare at you?
“you’re not going anywhere right? stay with me always yeah?”
James Potter:
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oh the antics. he waits for you right outside the great hall to spin you around and drop you (just to catch you before you fall) and kiss you in front of everyone. don’t deny it, it gives you an ego boost.
it is james potter after all.
he likes to show off his strength even if you claim it gives you second hand embarrassment.
he puts your hands on his face because he can’t seem to get enough of your touch. he would live under your skin if he could.
jealousy. he gets jealous very easily. you were polite to snape? he refuses to look at you all throughout dinner. you touched hands with the nice hufflepuff boy? he doesn’t want to hold your hand for at least the next two days. oh and when he is jealous he pouts.
he thinks of himself as a human chair. in the confines of his room the only place he’ll let you sit on is his lap.
he tends to gasp a lot when you’re both making out. HE IS NOISY!!!!!!
“i would marry you right now if child marriage wasn’t against the law, i swear.”
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