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#into a regular old soda
hazel2468 · 1 year
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Okay no legitimate suggestion for people who like. Host parties.
If someone at the party is not drinking, for any reason, and they get like. A soda or something?
Garnish it.
It’s fun. It like, upgrades it and eliminates at least some of the “everyone is drinking pretty drinks and I have a lame soda” thing. It looks nice. And especially like, a citrus peel twist- you can express those oils and it give the drink a smell that I associate with cocktails without the alcohol.
My friends did this in college with like. They would make ALL the drinks colorful and fun to eliminate any judgement or pressure around drinking alcohol, because everyone had something that looked cool. The regular punch was just as chock full of candy and fruit as the alcoholic punch.
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antirepurp · 6 months
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yippee :)
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luckystorein22 · 1 year
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yeonzzzn · 3 months
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🤍give up heaven: sunghoon
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pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 10.6k
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synopsis: when you run into your best friend's ex-boyfriend at your favorite coffee shop thinking it was just a coincidence until seeing him became a daily thing. You can't get him out of your head and start to feel guilty at the very thought of him and things take a turn when he starts making advances towards you.
genre: hockey player!hoon with small mentions of figure skater!hoon, ex-bestfriend bf!hoon, hoon's ex-girlfriend best friend, friends to lovers, slight smut.
warnings: swearing, implied sex, make-out session, fingering, jerking off, verbal fight between reader, the ex, and sunghoon, MINORS DNI. lmk if i've missed anything!
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You tried to avert your eyes when you saw him walk into the coffee shop. Pulling the scarf around your neck up higher and turning your face in the opposite direction. 
His voice echoed throughout the small shop, ordering his regular drink. Why do you still remember how he liked his coffee?
You slowly glanced up, his back was facing towards you, his hand reaching for his wallet from the back pocket of his blue jeans. 
After paying, he stepped back from the counter. You quickly turned your head away again, praying he didn’t see you or would even notice you. 
“Y/N?” 
Well, shit.
There's no point in hiding now. You slowly lifted your head, seeing the soft smile on his face as he slightly leaned to the side to get a look at your face, “It really is you.” 
You awkwardly smile, “Yes, it’s me.” 
Get your shit together, Y/N, come on.
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short when his name was called, “Sunghoon! Your iced coffee is ready!” 
“Be right back,” his knuckles tapped on the table, his smile growing. 
You carefully watched as he got his coffee and made his way back to your table, pulling the chair across from you out and seating himself. 
“How have you been?” he asked excitedly, his long fingers wrapping around his coffee, taking a small sip, “It’s been what? A year?” 
You nodded, wrapping your fingers around your warm coffee, “I see you still drink iced coffee even during the winter, some things never change huh?” 
Sunghoon softly chuckled, his smile just growing brighter and wider, his natural fangs peeking from his lips, “Everyone knows iced coffee is superior,” he leaned his elbows onto the table, “Your hair is longer, it looks good. You look good.” 
You smiled, “Thank you, you look really good as well, Sunghoon.” 
Sunghoon gave you a soft smirk and flexed his arms, “Why thank you! Been working out a lot lately.” 
You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee, “You really haven’t changed.” 
His laugh was enough to make you laugh as well, the corners of your lips curving upwards no matter how hard you tried to push it down. 
It felt like old times. 
Speaking about old times…
His smile finally faded, the happy expression he once had was also gone, his face relaxing into a kinda of sad softness. 
His voice trembled, “How is uhh…how is she?” his eyes darted to the corner of the table. 
Oh…he’s still in love with her.
Your lips thinned into a line, trying to figure out what information was appropriate to give out. 
“She’s really good.” it wasn’t a total lie. 
Sunghoon nodded, the corner of his lips barely curling, “That’s… um…that’s good then. I’m glad she’s doing well.” 
It broke your heart that he couldn’t even say your best friend's name. It must still hurt even after a year. 
Sunghoon dated your best friend for almost three years. You remember when the two of you first met him at your college's hockey game. 
He bumped into the two of you, spilling his soda all down your best friend's outfit. Oh, man was she pissed. It didn’t take Sunghoon long to convince her to let him make it up to her. 
After that, they were inseparable. 
Sunghoon was a part of the hockey team, but due to a leg injury, he had to sit out until he was completely healed. But that didn’t stop him from attending every hockey game to support his teammates. He even dragged your best friend along with him. Which eventually led you to tag along as well. 
The three of you became that trio that was inseparable. A package deal. If you saw one of us, the other two were sure to be right behind. 
Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Their relationship got toxic. They fought more than normally and on hangout days, either your best friend was missing, or Sunghoon was missing. Nothing felt right and the air between your friend group grew thick. Hard to breathe. 
Sunghoon eventually stopped talking to you, and then they broke up. Your best friend stopped hanging around you and slowly stopped speaking to you as well. You figured it was due to the heartbreak, that she just needed her space. You didn’t think it would lead to your friendship slowly becoming nonexistent. 
You two weren’t exactly best friends anymore, but after she healed from the breakup, she came back around. It just wasn’t the same as before Sunghoon came into the picture. 
You two still barely talk, and barely see each other, but still kept that contact and hung out when you could. 
You never understood why she pushed you away, but the heart does crazy things when it’s hurting. 
And you haven’t seen Sunghoon since a couple of months before the breakup, until today. A little over a year later. 
“Well,” Sunghoon’s voice brought you out of your deep thoughts, “I have to get going, need to catch practice.” 
Your eyebrows raised, “You’re playing still?” 
Sunghoon’s doctor finally cleared him to get back on the ice after almost a year of being off it, but due to the team setup they had at that time, he wasn’t able to fully rejoin the team again until around the time of the breakup. He was able to practice and attend the games as a sub if needed, but it was enough for him to keep his mind busy for a little bit. 
You’ve secretly kept up with the scores of the hockey team, knowing Sunghoon was back on the team officially. But after a while you quit. Clearing Sunghoon from your life completely. 
Sunghoon nodded, “Hell yeah I’m still playing, who do you think I am?” he teased, standing up from the table, “But, I am actually not going to hockey practice.” 
The surprise must have shown on your face because Sunghoon was giggling like a child at your confusion, “I joined an ice skating team as a figure skater.” 
You sat up straighter in your chair, “Since when?!”
“Since…well.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, it was all you needed to know. 
Being a sub on the hockey team eventually wasn’t enough for Sunghoon to keep his brain busy after the breakup. Until he was officially able to play again, he needed another distraction. Come to find out he loved figure skating as much as hockey, deciding even after being fully back on the hockey team, he kept up with figure skating as well. 
You slowly nodded, “I am really glad you’re doing well for yourself, Sunghoon.” 
He softly nodded back, “Thank you, Y/N. I have to get going, the ice is calling my name.”
You waved at him as he walked to the entrance, him turning back around as his back touched the doors, “It was nice seeing you!” 
You agreed. 
Your best friend sighed as another customer walked into the smoothie shop, holding up her index finger towards you as she walked away and up to the register, taking the customer's order. 
You leaned against the counter, moving the seat back and forth with your hips like a child. 
“Okay,” she said, returning to you after the customer's smoothie was made, “What were you telling me?” 
“Just that the materials you missed in bio today weren't too hard. I took extra notes for you,” you pulled into your backpack taking out the pretty iced blue folder, “Here they are!” you pulled out the stack of notes you made for her, her taking them and holding them to her chest.
“Thank you SO MUCH YN!!!” she placed the papers in a drawer under the counter, “I could kiss you right now. What would I do without you?” 
Probably survive perfectly fine since you had no problem cutting me off after you and Sunghoon broke up. 
You shrugged with a smile, “Fail bio.” 
She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, probably. But I have you to help keep me in the loop!” 
You honestly hated how the two of you could go DAYS sometimes even WEEKS without talking or seeing each other yet she has no problem acting as if nothing ever happened. 
But she was all you had, so you played along with her. 
You dropped your backpack onto the floor, wondering if telling her the other thing was right or wrong. 
You decided to anyway. 
“I also saw Sunghoon the other day.” 
Her movements slowed and her smile faded, “Is that so?” 
You nodded, “We talked for a couple of minutes, but he had to go practice, so it was a short moment.” 
You could see the gears were turning in her brain, “Practice? Guess he was able to get back on the team after all. That’s good at least.” 
“He actually is figure skating now too, that’s where he was headed.” 
Your best friend’s eyes widened, “Wow, I did not see that one coming.” 
You agreed, “It was definitely not something I’d expected Park Sunghoon to do, but I guess it kinda suits him.” 
Your friend nodded, seeing how deep in thought she was. 
You wanted to ask her to speak her mind, but unfortunately, the two of you weren’t that close anymore. 
A couple more customers walked in, sending her back away from you. 
You stood from the seat, grabbing your things, giving her a smile and wave as you walked out. You only came to give her the notes she missed anyway. 
Usually, when she skips out of class she gets the notes from one of the boys she’s secretly messing around with. But every blue moon she asks you. 
You guessed it was the only way to keep in contact with you in some way. 
You quickly stepped into the coffee shop, brushing off the slight snow from your hair, ready to get a sip of your favorite coffee. 
The barista noticed you, giving you his famous thumbs-up, “Already on it YN!” 
You gave him a thumbs-up back. You were so happy you discovered this place, it became one of your comfort places to be. It’s quiet enough to do homework or read, the coffee is amazing and all the baristas know you and your order. What isn’t there to love?
“Fancy seeing you here again,” you whipped around, seeing Sunghoon sitting in your usual spot, a book in his hands and his iced coffee half empty on the table. 
Your brain spasmed, what was he doing here again?
You just nodded, “You’re in my spot.” 
Sunghoon shrugged, “I can move?” 
Well shit, now you feel bad. 
You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.” 
Sunghoon smiled, eyes flickering back down to his book. 
The barista called your name, turning your attention back to him, “Thank you, Taehyun.” 
His sharky smile warms your heart, “Always,” his eyes darted over to Sunghoon then back to you, “Do you know him?” 
You sighed, “Yes, he’s an old friend.” 
Taehyun nodded, his tongue sliding into his cheek, “He’s been here every day since the last time you were here.” 
You froze, narrowing your eyes, “Honestly?” 
Taehyun nodded again, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that he wasn’t some creep.” 
You smiled softly at him, “No need to worry. He’s harmless.” 
Taehyun gave you a half smile, then walked off to finish working. 
You sat down in front of Sunghoon, his eyes not leaving the page of his book. 
You cleared your throat, taking a sip of your coffee. 
Sunghoon glanced up for a second at your throat clearing, “Yes?” 
You cupped your hands around your coffee, “What?” 
Sunghoon sighed and closed his book, setting it on the table, “You only clear your throat like that when you have something to say.” 
Damn, does he remember the small details of you?
“You remember that?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, picking up his iced coffee, “YN, I’ve known you for almost, what? five years? You think I’d just forget everything?” 
Well, no…just didn’t think you’d care enough to remember. you didn’t date me after all. 
All you could do was shrug, “My barista told me you’ve been here every day,”
Sunghoon raised a brow as he sipped on his coffee, finishing it off, “Your barista?” 
“Not like that!” you snapped quietly, wishing you could jump over the table and tackle him, “I’m a regular here, Taehyun just happens to be the barista who always takes care of me.” 
Sunghoon mouthed out a “wow” and leaned back into the seat, “First name bases too?” 
“Sunghoon,” his name falling off your lips felt foreign, mostly since you were speaking to him, “Why are you here every day?” 
He thinned out his lips into a line, eyes looking down at his Converse, “Been looking for a good coffee shop to regular, and this one surprised me when I first came in here. You just so happened to be here the day I decided to try it.”
That sounds…completely true. This coffee shop is incredible. You don’t blame him for wanting to become a regular. It was all a coincidence. 
You sipped down your coffee, feeling the stare of his eyes, “Yes?” 
“So back to Taehyun being your barista,” 
You laughed, kicking your leg into his shin, “Stop!” 
Sunghoon’s fangs slipped out as he smiled. 
Sunghoon’s appearance in the coffee shop became more regular, just like he said. 
Taehyun knew his order by heart, just like yours, and would always have it ready the moment he saw Sunghoon walk in. 
You had to admit, it felt good having him back in your life. It felt like old times when you’d hang out when your best friend was too busy working. You three all used to be so close. 
Yet you didn’t have the heart to tell her you were even hanging out with Sunghoon again. It technically wasn’t even hanging out, you two just happened to sit, talk, and drink coffee together at your favorite coffee shop. 
Another week has flown by with Sunghoon making his appearance at the shop.
You laughed together over a book you both read, Sunghoon feeling Taehyun’s eyes on you. 
You stood up, “I’m heading to the bathroom,” 
Sunghoon nodded, his eyes darting to Taehyun, watching him as he watched you walk to the bathroom. A small sigh escaped Taehyun’s lips. 
Taehyun then made eye contact with him, and the look he was giving Sunghoon made him clench his fists. 
Your return to the table had Sunghoon relaxing, and Taehyun returning to work. 
Sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt so at home in your presence. His mind telling him to tell you the truth, that you deserved to know. But the moment you locked eyes with him and the corners of your lips curled into that precious smile, he couldn’t do it. 
“What’s up?” you asked, “You’re deep in thought?” 
“Ahh…” Sunghoon tried to collect his thoughts, then quickly smiled, settling on the topic change, “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” you thought about it, “I just have class, why?” 
“Come to my hockey practice tomorrow night.” 
That invite took you by surprise, “Huh?” 
Sunghoon smiled even more, leaning forward on the table, “Come watch my practice tomorrow. Please?”
You tried to find an excuse to get out of it, but nothing came to mind. How could you just show up to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s hockey practice?
“The guys would love to see you, I bet.” Sunghoon mentioning his friends only hit you in the heart harder, “Come on, YN, just like old times.” 
Without a second thought, you agreed. Not knowing exactly why, but feeling as if it would be okay. It was just hockey practice. 
He jumped up from the table, “I have to get to figure skating practice, is your phone number still the same?”
You nodded, heart beating faster at hearing he still had your phone number. 
With a jump away from the table and a small skip, he said, “I’ll text you the details!” 
Sunghoon twirled his hockey stick in hand, eyes darting to each entrance of the stadium.
Heeseung skated past, quickly stopping in front of him, eyes also following each entrance, “Brother, what are you looking at?”
Sunghoon snaps his attention at Heeseung, his mouth open to speak, but no words coming out. 
“He’s waiting for YN,” Jay says as he also skates past, skating a circle around them. 
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Dude.” 
Jay smirked, “Should’ve kept your mouth shut.” 
“Clearly, that’s the last time I tell you anything,” Sunghoon said, sliding his helmet over his head. 
Heeseung raised a brow, “Wait you’re speaking to YN again?” 
Sunghoon just nodded, “Yeah. We umm, ran into each other at a coffee shop.” 
“Yeah, “ran into each other”, we’ll call it that.” Jay teased, leaning forward on his hockey stick. 
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kick your stick from you and laugh when you hit the ice,” Sunghoon said with a snarky smile. 
“Woah now!” Jay said, holding his hand up, “You’re a figure skater now, can’t be talking like that anymore.” 
Sunghoon skated forward, Jay also scooted backward sticking his tongue out. 
Heeseung seemed to be the only one who was concerned, “How did the three of you make up?” 
Sunghoon awkwardly chuckled, “You mean the two of us…”
Heeseung looked at his friend confused, “You and—“
“No,” Sunghoon quickly shook his head, “We aren’t talking.” 
Heeseung just nodded, finally putting the pieces together, “Sorry for assuming that you rekindled with both of them.” 
Sunghoon swung his hockey stick around again, “Just YN. And from what I’ve noticed, the two of them aren’t really friends anymore.”
It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to figure it out. The way it used to be, his ex would always talk about you, and you would always talk about his ex. The two of you were inseparable. A package deal. With one you got the other. And the fact that you haven’t once brought her up over the last week that he’s started talking to you again, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she also pushed you away after the breakup. 
Heeseung just nodded, “Do you blame them?” Sunghoon just looked at him, not knowing what to say, “YN doesn’t know, does she?” 
Sunghoon shook his head, “No, and she won’t.” 
“Hoon-“
“I am not ready to tell her,” Sunghoon snapped, “I finally got one of my closest friends back, I don’t want to cross that bridge.” 
Heeseung sighed and nodded, “Okay man, just don’t get butt hurt when it backfires at you.” 
Sunghoon knew this secret could backfire on him, he wasn’t stupid. But it was worth the risk. 
“I’m going to see if she texted me,” he said, “Just in case she said he couldn’t make it.” 
Heeseung watched as Sunghoon skated off towards his gym bag. 
Dropping his gloves to the ice and carefully stepping off the ice, he sat down on the bench, opened his gym bag, and pulled out his phone, quickly finding your messages and seeing you’ve read his last text. 
Sunghoon felt stupid getting his hopes up. What did he think inviting you would do? 
I just wanted her back in my life again. 
He tossed his phone back in the bag and stepped back onto the ice, pulling his gloves back onto his hands. 
I’m so fucking pathetic. 
Sunghoon adjusted his gloves, now waiting for practice to start. 
Jay whistled at him, causing a glare to shoot from his eyes.
Jay tilted his head up, “Look.” 
Sunghoon turned back around, seeing you walking in, your arms wrapped tightly around you. 
He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, immediately skating in your direction. 
“You made it!” he said, sliding his helmet from his head. 
You smiled back, nodding, “Sorry that I am a bit late, my class got out later.” 
You walked up to the wall Sunghoon was now leaning against, his helmet resting on top of it. 
“You showed up, and that’s all that matters,” Sunghoon couldn’t hide how happy it made him that you were here right now. 
You nodded again, smiling wide back at him, “It’s cold as balls in here though!” 
Sunghoon pointed over to his gym bag, “I have my hockey varsity jacket in my bag, wear it if you get too cold.” 
“I am definitely going to wear it,” you shivered, “I forgot how cold it gets in here.” 
The memory of the last time he saw you replayed in his mind, it was during a hockey game. His team was a couple of points away from winning. Sunghoon and his ex were too busy fighting off on the side of the bleachers, her stomping away not wanting to finish the conversation. His eyes wandered over to you, the sad look you gave him broke his heart even more. Your heart was also breaking due to watching your closest friends tear each other apart. All Sunghoon could do was shove his hands into his hoodie pocket and walk out of the stadium. 
He watched as you walked over to his things, your hands immediately reaching for the jacket and sliding it onto your body. 
Oh fuck I am a goner. 
Sunghoon loved the way you looked in his jacket. The way it loosely hangs against your body. How cute it made you look. His heart dropped onto the ice. 
Your body started warming up a bit more, sliding your hands into his jacket pockets. Your eyes traced the other players on the ice. Jay and Heeseung waving at you. You waved back. Gosh, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw either of them. 
You’ve seen them out and about around the college, but not so personally like this. It’s been way too long. 
Sunghoon skated back over to his friends and teammates. 
“It’s weird seeing her again,” Jay said, watching you sit down, eyes wandering around the stadium, “Mostly seeing her without her twin at her hip. She looks really good though,” 
Jay was lucky Sunghoon was in a better mood than earlier, or else he’d be wiping the ice with Jay’s face, “Can we not talk about my ex, please, and she does look good. Eyes off.” 
Jay wanted to make a smart remark, but with a quick look at Sunghoon and then you, he decided to leave the teasing off the ice, giving him a nod, “Yeah, sorry man.” 
Their coach finally started practice. 
It went by in a flash. You waited outside the stadium for Sunghoon, his jacket still wrapped around your body. 
“Well, what did you think of our practice?” Sunghoon said, sneaking up on you, and giving you a little jolt. 
“It was very interesting, you played well.” 
Sunghoon walked closer to you, his hands reaching up to fix the collar of his jacket, his cold fingers brushing against your skin, “My jacket looks really good on you.” 
Your heart sank. 
Is he…flirting???
“Oh, shoot!” you tried to play it off as if you forgot, wanting to find an excuse for the blush on your face to go away after his comment, reaching to take the jacket off, “Here, I forgot I was still wearing it.” 
Sunghoon grabbed your hands and shoved them back at your side, “YN, keep it.” 
“But—“ 
Sunghoon interrupted, “It’s okay! I promise! Just keep it for now, okay? I have another jacket I can wear.” 
You nodded, feeling your body getting hot from his hands still touching yours. 
Why are you getting so bothered??? You’ve known him for years. Why is every little thing he’s doing affecting you???
“Anyways,” he said, finally letting go of your hands, “We have a game this weekend, you’ll come right?” 
You wouldn’t mind going, it could be an excuse to get you out of your apartment for once and not just sit at the coffee shop either. 
“Yeah, I’ll come.”
Sunghoon smiled, his eyes darting to the ground to try and hide just how big he was smiling, “I’ll save you a ticket.” 
You walked into the shop, giving Taehyun a smile and wave. Giving you the normal thumbs up. 
You dropped your backpack to the floor at your normal table and slumped down into the seat with a sigh. 
“Rough day?” Sunghoon asked, his yellow highlighter moving across his textbook. 
You nodded, “I forgot to set my alarms last night, so I woke up late and got to class late. On top of that I had to take double the notes because…” you stopped yourself, not wanting to bring your best friend's name into the mix. 
Sunghoon stopped highlighting, he didn’t even have to hear her name to know what you were going to say, his eyes slowly rising to meet yours, “You’re still taking notes for her?” 
You just shrugged, “Maybe…” 
“YN,” he dropped his highlighter into the textbook, “You need to stop doing that.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Mostly because you knew he was right. She was just using you at this point. 
Taehyun interrupted your thoughts by setting your coffee down in front of you, “Tae! I could have gotten it from you.” 
His cute sharky smile came out, “Don’t worry about it, I don’t ever get to bring the coffee to you. Plus I needed to get away from behind the counter.” 
You smiled up at him, “Thank you.” 
Taehyun rested his hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, “It’s no problem at all, YN.” 
Sunghoon clenched his fists under the table, eyes burning holes into his hand that was touching you. 
As Taehyun walked away, he locked eyes with Sunghoon as if to say “Your move now, buddy.” 
Oh, I’ll play your game, Taehyun. 
“He totally has a crush on you.” Sunghoon spat out. 
You softly giggled, “Who? Tae? No,” you giggled again, taking a sip of your coffee, “He’s just a good friend.” 
Sunghoon rubbed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes darting back to Taehyun who was now back behind the counter, “I can see it in the way he looks at you.” 
You rolled your eyes. He sounds jealous. 
You glanced up at him, seeing how he kept his eyes on Taehyun. 
Oh, he’s…actually jealous??? No. It couldn’t be. He’s still in love with his ex.
You shook the thoughts from your head, deciding to change the subject, “Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 
Sunghoon’s eyes made their way back to you, his face relaxing and a small smile formed, “Yes, you’re still coming…right?” 
You nodded, “I wouldn’t miss it,” you took another sip of your coffee, “Wasn’t able to see you play back then, so I’m excited to see you play now.” 
Hearing you say that warmed his heart. Knowing you’ll be in the crowd cheering for him and only him. He had to make sure he was on his ‘a game’ tomorrow. 
“Make sure to wear my jacket tomorrow,” Sunghoon gave you a wink, picking his highlighter back up and continuing where he left off. 
You giggled, “Why? What will your jacket do? Bring good luck?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, stretching the highlighter across the words on the textbook, “It has an S.H. and my last name on the back,” he glanced back up at you, “And you know, yeah, you wearing my jacket will bring good luck. You’ll be my good luck charm.” 
Sunghoon took notice of the slight blush on your cheeks, his smile growing more as he looked back to his textbook. 
God, she’s so cute. 
You tried to slow your heart rate. Why is he making you feel like this? 
“It’s getting kinda late,” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat? Then I can walk you to your apartment?”
You nodded. 
You weren’t sure what these butterflies in your stomach meant, but it made you feel guilty for even having them. 
It was game day and your nerves were all tied together in a knot. 
You took one last look at your outfit in your mirror, fingers twisting in the belt loops of your ripped skinny jeans, pulling them up further above your hips. 
Your college’s hockey team t-shirt had a small hole at the bottom of the shirt, which was to be expected. This was an old shirt and you haven’t worn it since the last game you attended…the night Sunghoon pushed you out of his life. 
Your black high-top vans looked like they’ve seen better days, but looked good with the outfit. 
Grabbing a hair tie from your vanity, you pulled your long hair back, wrapping the tie around it, just to pull it out right after.  
You tried different hairstyles, not liking a single one. 
Why do I even care how my hair looks? 
You settled for a ponytail, deciding it’s what matched the outfit better. 
The last final piece was Sunghoon’s jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. You turned around in the mirror, glancing back to see his initials on the back. 
“You’ll be my good luck charm.” 
You caught yourself smiling at the memory, bringing the hems of the jacket up to your nose, breathing in the smell. 
It still smelt like him, even after you’ve had it for the last couple of days. The familiar smell of blackberry and floral filled your senses. 
His scent brought you comfort, the knot of nerves unraveling and disappearing. 
While the nerves found their way out, other feelings crept their way in. 
Your heart raced faster, thinking about the smile on Sunghoon’s face he’d have when he saw you. 
The more thoughts of him that flooded your brain, the more guilty you felt. 
He’s your best friend’s ex…you can’t be thinking about and getting so giddy over him. 
You slapped your hands to your face, hoping it would be enough to kick those feelings out. 
Unfortunately, they didn’t. 
You sat down at your vanity, pulling open one of the drawers, revealing a photo booth picture strip of yourself, Sunghoon, and your best friend. 
You held the fragile paper in your hands, staring at each set of photos one by one. Eyes locking onto Sunghoon. 
You didn’t feel this way about him back then, so why now all of a sudden does he have your stomach tied in knots? 
His smile in the photos sent your heart racing. The way he was looking at your best friend, you couldn’t help but wish he looked at you like that. 
You quickly shoved the photo strip back into the drawer, slamming it shut. 
You stood from the chair, grabbed your phone and keys, and walked out of your room. 
By the time you showed up at the stadium, the opposing team and Sunghoon’s team lined up on each side of the rink doing their warmups. 
Your eyes searched for him, seeing the number 23 skating by quickly, him swinging the hockey stick, sending the puck flying into the goal. 
Even though it was just a practice shot, you clapped anyway. 
Sunghoon skated back into line, eyes wandering the crowd until he found you. Your smile sends butterflies in his stomach fluttering about. 
God, you look so good right now. The way your hair was pulled back, the way your thighs peeked out from the rips of your jeans, and how perfect his jacket looked on you. 
Sunghoon never let his ex wear that jacket, it was so special to him, so much that only he wanted to wear it. But it was so different with you. 
He gave you a wave, letting you know that he does indeed, know you’re here. 
The game finally started, and the butterflies did not calm down one bit. He had to do well in this game. He couldn’t disappoint you. 
Heeseung patted his back, “Calm down buddy, you’re our best player. Can’t have you tapping out on us.” 
Jay agreed, “This isn’t even the first game of the season, what’s got you so worked up all of a sudden?” 
“YN is here,” Niki, one of the only freshmen on the team, teased. 
Sunghoon shot the younger one a glare, “Brother, you don’t want to tease me right now.” 
Niki smirked, “Man, I know enough about your life and I barely have been on the team.” 
Jay slapped Sunghoon’s shoulder, “Just ignore the kid, he’s just a little silly.” 
Niki agreed, “Just a little bit.” 
Sunghoon waved his teammates off, “I am fine, my nerves have nothing to do with YN being here.” 
His friends looked at him with telling faces, they knew he was lying. Knew he was full of shit. But deciding to let it go. 
The game went on, each of the teams scoring left and right. 
You sat on the edge of your seat, hands clasped together at your chest. There were five minutes left on the clock, your team was only a point ahead. 
Your eyes followed Sunghoon on the ice, you could tell by his body language he was stressed. The way he stretched his arms out over his hockey stick behind his neck was enough to tell how absent-minded he was in this moment, the only thing he could focus on was getting one last point. Swinging his stick back down onto the ice, slightly bending over, ready for anything. 
Jay passed the puck to Niki, pushing the puck across the rink, Sunghoon positioned himself, screaming for Niki to pass the puck towards him.  
Niki passed it quickly to him. Sunghoon grabbed the puck, pushing his feet and legs as quickly as he could against the ice, the only thing on his mind was to keep the puck against the stick.
As he neared the goal, the goalie prepared himself for Sunghoon to make a shot. 
Sweat dripped down the side of his face, hands gripping tighter on the stick as he lifted it from the ice and puck. 
You stood to your feet, hands hovering over your chest, gripping at the fabric of your shirt. 
Sunghoon swung the stick using all the force possible and hit the puck, watching as the black disc flew across the ice. 
The world seemed to go in slow motion for Sunghoon, his eyes wide as the anticipation of waiting for the puck to reach the goalie, it sliding gracefully between the goalie's legs, the guy barely missing to stop it. 
Sunghoon pivoted, stopping his motion on the ice. His eyes locked onto the puck, confirming it hit the net. 
He turned his body towards his teammates, the world around him going back to normal speed. The crowd cheered, and his teammates surrounded him, slapping their hands against his chest, shoulders, and back. The clock hit its final second, the buzzer sounding. The game was over. We won. 
We won..!!
Sunghoon started screaming and cheering with his teammates, hands slapping them as they continued to slap him. 
You rushed down to the wall, the upper half of your body leaning over it, cupping your hands to your mouth, “Sunghoon!!!” 
He didn’t hear you over the screams of his mates and fans. But it felt as if he knew you were waiting for him. 
His eyes found you and started pushing past his teammates, sliding his helmet off and handing it and his stick off to Heeseung. 
Using what was left of his leg strength, he pushed himself towards you quickly. 
He stretched his arms up in the air, shouting, “WE DID IT!!” 
You couldn’t stop your smile from falling, not when Sunghoon looked as happy as he did at that moment. His fangs were on full display from how wide he was smiling. 
His body crashed against the wall, his gloved hands wrapping around your waist, connecting his torso to yours. 
His wet sweaty hair tickled your cheek as he pulled you into a hug. The first hug you’ve received from him since…well the breakup. 
You patted his back, leaning your head against his, “You played so well! I am so proud of you!” 
You’ve never gotten to tell him how exactly proud of him you were. For all the years you’ve known him, he’s always given his one hundred percent, but because of the past circumstances, you weren’t able to voice how proud you were of him, your best friend wouldn’t have allowed it. 
Hearing you tell him how well he did was enough to risk everything. It did something so deep to his heart that he couldn’t hide it anymore. 
It’s now or never Park Sunghoon, just do it. 
“I told you. I told you that you were my good luck charm,” he whispered in your ear, brushing his cheek against yours as he moved his head up. Brushing his nose against yours softly before moving in, pressing his lips against yours quickly. 
So fast that you didn’t have time to process it as his hands left your waist and he was skating backward away from you. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed locked with yours. 
Your fingertips touched your lips, your ears blocking out all sound as the rest of your senses focused on the man in front of you. 
He kissed you…Oh my god, he kissed you!!! 
Sunghoon gave you a wink and said “Meet me by my car!” then turned back around, skating to his teammates, all of them huddling together. 
He pressed you up against his front door, using your body to completely shut it, his fingers flipping the lock as his tongue invaded your mouth, your brain going fuzzy. 
You met him at his car after the game and convinced you to have dinner with him and the team. 
You sat beside him in the booth at this fancy diner, his arm was wrapped around your shoulder, his fingers softly rubbing against your arm. Once the food arrived at the table, his arm went from being behind you to his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers sliding between the rips of your jeans, squeezing the plush skin. 
His touch was driving you crazy, and with your new emotions towards him, it made his contact with your skin make you hot and bothered. 
Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you liked it. Liked the attention he was giving you. 
Liked it so much that you didn’t even think twice when he drove right past the street of your apartment building and pulled into his apartment building. 
He held both your hands tightly, his smile so bright as he guided you up the stairs to his apartment. Soft laughs leaving his lips at just the thought of being with you. 
He was dying to kiss you again. Like properly kiss you. 
He wanted to kiss you so bad that the moment you were inside his apartment, his hands and body were pressed against yours, using his weight to push you against his door. Lips connecting to yours as if he were running out of oxygen and your lips were the sole source of air. 
His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your torso, fingers grazing against your breasts and up to your neck, hands cupping your jaw. 
You kissed him back forcefully, pushing your tongue between his lips, rubbing the muscle against his own, mixing your saliva. 
You tasted so sweet to him. He couldn’t get enough. 
Sunghoon went to pull away, wanting to attach his lips to your neck, but you weren’t ready for his lips to leave yours. 
You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, biting a bit harder than you expected. 
Sunghoon hissed out in pleasure, rolling his hips against yours, his clothed hard length pressing at your heat. 
You released his lip, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pinning you against the door, his lips attaching themself to your neck, “Keep acting up baby and I just might have to punish you.” 
His words sent chills down your spine as he left open mouth kisses on your neck. Your imagination running wild at what these punishments would be, but being too afraid to test his limits. 
Sunghoon loved hearing the soft moans escaping your pretty little mouth. It was music to his ears. 
He placed his leg right between yours, using it to spread them further apart, giving him more access to press his cock against you. 
You were shaking, wanting to completely feel him against you, skin to skin. 
“Hoonie,” you whispered in his ear, “Please,” 
Sunghoon reached down, cupping the back of your thighs and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him. His hands sliding to cup your ass, lips finding yours again. 
“Say less princess,” he mumbled against your lips as he carried you to his bedroom. 
He laid you down gently on his bed, his right hand stayed on your thigh, squeezing it tightly to keep it wrapped around him as his left hand flew to his shirt, fingers working their magic at the buttons. 
You became impatient, sending your hands to help undress him. 
You slid the fabric off his shoulders and down his arms, your fingers feeling every muscle as they traced down his skin and off his body. 
Your eyes took a moment to appreciate his body. You already knew he worked out, but good lord was his toned, buff body beautiful. 
Sunghoon kissed you again, his hands sliding his jacket off your body then finding their way under your shirt and up and over your head. 
He worked with the button of your jeans as you worked with his. 
He slid his jeans and underwear down together, leaving him completely bare to you.
His fingers looped between your jeans and panties, lifting your hips up as he pulled them off your body. 
“Fuck, YN,” he moaned out, hands snaking underneath you to unclasp your bra, your breasts falling to their natural place once the material was on the floor. His eyes looked your bare body up and down, before laying his body on top of yours, “You’re so beautiful.” 
Your fingers tangled in his hair when he kissed you again, your tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm, his hand sliding down your body and stopping at your thigh to pull it back over his waist. 
Sunghoon was completely turned on just by the skin-to-skin contact, by just feeling your pretty legs wrapped around him. 
He rolled his hips, rubbing his dick against your clit, his hand fumbling at his nightstand drawer for his box of condoms. 
You woke up that next morning with the sun shining through his bedroom window. 
Sunghoon had his head on your chest still fast asleep. 
His arm was wrapped around your waist, the bedsheets were tangled up between yours and his legs. His leg hung out from the sheets and they hung at his hips, his bare back exposed. 
Your heart raced at the site in front of you. 
Did this actually happen?? I am not dreaming?
Your hand touched his bicep, fingers softly moving up and down his arm. 
Sunghoon moved his head up, tucking it in your neck, arm tightening around you. He was still fast asleep. 
Guilt washed over you once again. You just had sex with your best friend's ex-boyfriend. She would kill you both if she knew what happened last night. 
Did you regret it? Absolutely not. The sex was perfect. Sunghoon is perfect. But that still didn’t stop the thoughts that it shouldn’t have happened. 
Would you do it again? Regardless of these thoughts? Also yes. 
Your relationship with Sunghoon was different now. You had deep feelings for him. And the fact that he kept inviting you over, inviting you to his practices and games, asking to see you after classes, and randomly showing up at your front door, proved enough to you that it wasn’t about the sex that night, that his feelings also ran deep for you too. 
Your coffee shop days were more intimate, instead of sitting across from each other, you’d sit beside each other. Hands locking together as you’d drink your coffees. 
He would be waiting outside your apartment door every single morning to drive you to class. 
You would cheer him on from the bleachers at every practice, and have dinner with him afterwards. 
The sex got more intense the more comfortable you both got. You saw a whole new side of Sunghoon in the bedroom. A side you never thought you’d ever see or even thought about seeing until recently. 
He explored every inch of your body, his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. Shoving his fingers in your mouth as he pounded into you from behind. Bruises were left on your hips from how his fingers would grip your skin. 
You got more bold too. From being his little submissive princess to a dominant queen. The way you’d jerk your hand up and down his cock sending his head flying back, body shaking from your touch as you straddled him. 
Sunghoon became a part of your daily life, just like he was all that time ago. 
You showed up to every game wearing his jacket, being that good luck charm you knew you were to him. Everything felt right.
Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down onto your couch with him, “Babe, cuddle me! I am touch starved!” 
You rolled your eyes at him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip, “We just had sex, yet you’re still touch-starved?” 
“Obviously!” he nuzzled his face at the nape of your neck, hands gripping the hem of your shirt, “Let’s have sex again.” 
“Hoonie,” you giggled at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck, “You have practice in thirty minutes, you need to get ready soon.” 
Sunghoon groaned against your neck, but he knew you were right. 
Sunghoon went to propose skipping practice tonight but got distracted by your phone ringing, eyes darting over to it, being the nosey guy that he is, and seeing…his ex’s name on the caller ID. 
His smile faded, why would she be calling you?
You sighed at seeing your best friend's name on your phone, finger-hitting the decline. 
Calling her your best friend seemed pointless now. Right before things kicked off between you and Sunghoon, she found another boy toy to mess around with, completely ignoring you. You’ve also tried many times to hang out with her, to go by and see her at her job, to invite her over to do homework, to try and just hang with her when Sunghoon was busy, yet all she did was ignore you. So the fact she’s hitting you up now only means she needs something from you. And to say you were exhausted from it would be an understatement. 
Maybe it was karma for keeping your relationship with Sunghoon a secret from her. But you also knew you couldn’t tell her. At least not right now. 
You felt bad declining the call, deciding to shoot her a quick text saying you were busy in the shower and couldn’t answer the call just for her to reply saying it was fine, but was wanting the notes from class today and then sent a smiley face :) 
Sunghoon shook his head, “Please don’t.” 
You set your phone down, not responding to her, “Don’t what?” you knew the answer, but tried to play dumb anyways. 
“YN, stop playing this game with her, she’s using you.” 
You knew it was true, but hearing it come from his mouth didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 
Sunghoon bit his lips in a way to keep himself calm. He hated that she was doing this to you. He saw firsthand how badly the breakup affected you too. You lost both of your best friends because of it. But the shitty part was you weren’t supposed to lose her, but you did anyway. She was supposed to stay by your side but didn’t. 
She abandoned you. Even after she promised him she wouldn’t. 
The secrets he wishes he could tell you in hopes of you cutting her off for good, but he couldn’t break that trust with her, even if she deserved it. 
The only thing he could do was try and convince you in other ways. 
“Baby,” he whispered, “Look at me.” 
You did, shifting yourself in his lap to face him. 
He tucked your hair behind your ears, “You deserve better than that. I know you love and care for her, and that she’s your best friend, but this friendship is toxic. All it is doing is hurting you.” 
You looked away from his chocolate eyes and to the floor, “I know.” 
Sunghoon pulled your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look back at him, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore, not just because of her, but because of me too. We both did some damage to you and I have to live with that. I am so fucking lucky you let me come back in your life. And well, I am not saying to completely cut her out of your life,” even though that is what he’s wanting, “but don’t do things like this for her anymore.” 
You nodded. He was right. The only reason you kept doing things for her no matter what they were was to keep her in your life. You kept holding onto a rope that was torn a long time ago. 
“Promise me,” he asked, holding up his pinky finger, “Please.” 
You wrapped your pinky tightly with his, sealing the promise. 
It was the final game of the season, if the boys win this game they move on to the championship. 
Sunghoon stood with you by the wall, his hands trembling in his gloves. 
He was nervous, scared even, it was written all over his face. 
“Sunghoon,” you saying his name always sounded so beautiful to his ears. He looks over to you, giving a nervous smile, “It’ll be okay. You’re one of the best damn players on this team. The championship is calling your team's name!” 
You could only hope your words were reaching him, helping make him feel better. 
Which it did. His hand stopped trembling just from your smile. You were his good luck charm after all. 
He slid his hand from his glove, cupping the side of your face, “I am the luckiest man alive to have you.” 
You leaned into his hand, his thumb rubbing against your skin. 
His couch blew the whistle for warm-ups to start. 
“Gimme a good luck kiss princess,” he said pulling you closer to him, “It’ll give me strength.” 
You giggled against his lips and pouted as he skated away, giving him a thumbs up. 
Little did you know, your “best friend” was sitting in the bleachers, watching the entire thing. 
The game went in a flash, Sunghoon once again scoring the winning goal. 
You jumped from your seat and pressed against the wall, arms stretched out and waiting for Sunghoon to embrace himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in celebration of his win. 
You stood at the end of the bleachers, eyes staring off down the hallway that led to the locker rooms, heart racing at wanting to see Sunghoon again, to be able to give him a proper hug for his win. 
“OMG! You came to the game too?!” 
Your heart sank at her voice, your friend connecting her shoulder to yours as she stood beside you. 
Your body tensed, “Y-Yeah, it was their last game so I came to support them.” 
“Hmmm,” she hummed, her hands flying to Sunghoon’s jacket, “Isn’t this Hoon’s?” She forced you around, seeing his name printed on the back. 
She knows she’s got to know.
She hummed again, “Why do you have his jacket, YN?” 
You shrugged, leaning back against the bleacher, “I was cold and he offered it to me I guess.” 
She crossed her arms, “He never let me borrow it, weird.” 
“I was freezing,” you tried to play it off, “You know how cold I can get sometimes.” 
She nodded, “That’s true,” her eyes darted down the hallway, “Since when did you and Hoon start hanging out again?” 
She definitely knows. 
You knew it was a matter of time before she found out, but you didn’t think it would be like this. 
You opened your mouth to speak, only for her face to light up with excitement and her hands clapping. 
The boys finally were leaving the locker room, “Here come our winners!” she said. 
Sunghoon was with Jay, the two of them doing their handshake and walking in separate directions, Sunghoon’s smile fading after looking in your direction. 
“OH EM GEE!!!” she squealed, grabbing your hand and rushing you both to meet Sunghoon halfway, “You are such a star Hoonie!” 
She wrapped her arms around Sunghoon’s neck, but he was quick to pull her off of him, “What are you doing here?” 
You were surprised how calm he was. 
“Am I not allowed to come and support you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 
“You lost that right when we broke up.” he scoffed, “Why are you actually here?” 
She pouted, pulling you to her side, “I missed you guys, wanted us to rekindle and be a trio again.” 
Sunghoon could smell the bullshit radiating out of her mouth. 
Does this bitch think I am stupid?
“Rekindle?” he chuckled, “Rekindle what? Exactly?” oh he was pissed now, “Explain yourself. Now.” 
She let go of your arm, taking a step closer to him, “I miss you, Hoon.” She reached to touch his face, but he caught her arm with his hand, shoving it away from him. 
“Don’t touch me.” 
You didn’t know what to do or what to say, this fight didn’t involve you, it was something they had to settle. 
“Hoon,” she begged, “I want you back, please.” 
Sunghoon took a step back away from her, “Cut the bullshit.” 
She rolled her eyes, “What bullshit?!”
“I am in a relationship,” he spat out, “I am happy.” 
A laugh escaped her mouth, a laugh you’ve never heard her do before, “I know, I am not stupid,” she took a step back, wrapping her arms around you, “You’re fucking our sweet YN.” 
Sunghoon’s grip on his duffle bag tightened and his jaw locked. What the fuck was she trying to pull here?
She smiled, knowing she got you both where she wanted you to be, “The fact that you’re both quiet speaks volumes, lemme tell ya.” 
“What the fuck do you want?” he said through his locked jaw. 
“I want to know why,” she pulled a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I want to know why you both betrayed me like this. Why my ex-boyfriend decided it was okay to fuck my best friend, and why my best friend decided it was okay to fuck my ex.” 
Oh, she’s going there? Game on.
Sunghoon chuckled, “Best friend? Best friends don't abandon each other!”
“That’s rich coming from you,” she retorted.
“You abandoned her!!” he snapped. 
“So did you!!” she snapped back, “You walked away just as much as I did!” 
“I walked away because I cared about you! I cared about your feelings! You promised you’d stay by her side, not leave her to fight alone and use her for your own personal gain, that’s not a friendship!” 
“Oh, here we go,” she laughed, “It’s always about YN.” 
You wanted to speak up, to ask them what that meant, but before you could, Sunghoon was reaching for you. 
He’s heard enough. He’s HAD enough. He couldn’t let this conversation continue, not when she might spill everything. 
He pulled you to his side, pushing you in the direction towards the exit door, “YN, baby, let’s go.” 
“How long did you think you could hide? Hmm?” 
Both you and Sunghoon stopped walking. 
“I’ve known for a while now,” you turned and faced her, waiting for her to finish, “You think I wouldn’t notice? Wouldn't notice either of your cars at each other's apartments?” 
Sunghoon laughed, “So you’re stalking us now? That’s so fucking low.” 
“How could I not? Not after I saw the two of you leaving that diner downtown a while ago,” 
She’s known since the beginning.
“I thought maybe, at first, you two were just hanging out again. I minded my business. But then I thought, hmm, I should surprise visit YN. And I bet you could imagine my surprise when I pulled up to her apartment and saw your car parked there and her riding your dick on her couch.” your face flushed, embarrassed, “Maybe next time make sure your blinds are closed before fucking in the living room.” 
Sunghoon sighed, pulling you closer to him. He felt like shit because of all this happening to you. 
“This doesn’t excuse your shitty stalking behavior,” Sunghoon said. 
She shrugged, “I only caught you by coincidence at first, the second time surprised me too. The rest I had to ask around campus to find out.” 
Sunghoon was getting more pissed by the second, “YN doesn’t deserve this!!” 
“You’re so right!” she clapped her hands, “She does deserve better friends, I know. We were so shitty to her. But you know what she also deserves? The truth.” 
The…truth?
Sunghoon shook his head, “No, let’s go,” he tried pushing you toward the exit again, he wasn’t ready for you to hear what she was about to say. 
You forced Sunghoon off you, taking a few steps back towards her, “What truth do I deserve to know?” 
Mostly since Sunghoon seemed so set on me leaving just now. 
Your friend smirked, “The truth about the reason why we broke up in the first place.” 
Sunghoon snapped her name, “Keep your fucking mouth shut!” 
You look back at him, “What is so goddamn secretive?” 
Sunghoon sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor. 
You looked back at her, “Well??” 
“The reason we broke up was because of you.” she crossed her arms over her chest, eyes darting at Sunghoon. 
“Because of me?” You couldn’t wrap your head around why, “W-what did I do?” 
“You didn’t do anything, YN,” Sunghoon finally said. 
“Then…why…” 
“Because he’s in love with you,” you stood there frozen, “He confessed to me a few months before we broke up on how deeply in love with you he was.” she said snarky, “That he caught feelings for you early on into our relationship, but kept it hidden all those years until he couldn’t. The guilt ate him up. Plus I caught him practically eye fucking you at one of the last parties we all attended together.” 
You looked back at Sunghoon, his eyes glossed over. He’s been in love with you the entire time you’ve known him? 
“It’s truly sad, isn’t it?” your friend continued, “The night we fought, was me making him promise to never come near you again. Guess it worked for a while.” 
“Why would you promise that!” You yelled at him, “Why would you even agree to that?!” 
“Because I still cared about her!” Sunghoon shook his head, “I wanted to respect her wishes, I wanted to respect you! You had no feelings towards me whatsoever, and after the last couple shitty months of my relationship with her, I wanted you to heal and find peace with losing me, had I known she would also walk away from you, I would have never let you go.” 
“Why did you stay with her as long as you did if you wanted me?” It was a shitty question to ask, but you had to know. 
“Because I was already a shitty person for falling in love with my girlfriend’s best friend. I didn’t want to hurt either of you. So I kept my feelings hidden until they eventually overflowed to the point I couldn’t contain it.” 
With tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him, fists hitting his chest, “Why would you leave me then?! I needed you!” you cried it all out, releasing the frustration, and he just took it, “Do you know how lonely I was when you left? How terrible I felt watching you walk away that night? I lost part of my soul.” 
Sunghoon pulled you to him, “Baby I know and I am so fucking sorry I did that to you.” 
You cried into his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. Too many emotions were fighting you at all once. You were the sole reason your best friends broke up, how could you not feel like shit?
You pushed yourself off him, turning back towards your friend, “What is your excuse for leaving me?” 
Her facial expression tightened, “How could I have stayed? Every time I looked at you all I could remember was the fact that my boyfriend wanted you, not me.” 
Fair enough. But that was also such a shotty excuse. 
“Guess our friendship didn’t mean shit to you,” you scoffed, “A boy meant more to you than I did. Meant more than our lifetime of friendship.” 
She had nothing to say to that, just thinned her lips in a line, looking away. 
“I’ve heard enough,” you softly said, “Take me home, please Sunghoon.” 
He nodded, extending out his hand for you to take it, and you did. The two of you walking away.
“Enjoy my seconds, YN.” 
Oh, she did not.
Sunghoon beat you to running his mouth, “At least YN pleases me. You should see the mess she makes of me since you want to stalk us so bad.” 
You bit the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing, was their sex life that bad?
Her face turned red you could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears, “Go to hell Sunghoon! It’s where you belong!” 
He chuckled, “Gladly, I’d give up every piece of heaven for YN.” 
She rolled her eyes, it was always about you. It’s always been you for him. 
“Oh and by the way,” Sunghoon added, “I know you cheated on me multiple times with Mark from calculus, way before I confessed my feelings for YN. So us breaking up wasn’t just because of her. Suck a dick.” 
Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you, a smirk on his face as you both listened to her yelling more nonsense. 
He drove you home and walked you into your apartment. 
“I really am sorry, YN.” Sunghoon wrapped you into his arms, “I never wanted to hurt you.” 
You cupped his face, thumbs wiping the tears that fell, “Don’t ever apologize, okay? You were caught in a situation.” 
“It’s no excuse,” he took your hands in his, “I love you, I always have. I shouldn’t have walked away.” 
You just nodded, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his nose, “I love you, Park Sunghoon. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters.”
It was true. He was so lucky to have you. To finally have you after waiting for you for so long. 
Thank god he decided to try that coffee shop out. 
“Was sex with her really that bad?” you asked, a giggle escaping. 
He laughed too, “Yeah, never came once.” 
“I guess that means I win in that department too since I make such a mess outta you,” 
Sunghoon bit his lip, sliding his hands to squeeze your waist, “Keep talking like that and I’ll ruin you.” 
You pressed a quick kiss to his lips then escaped his arms, running towards your bedroom, “Can’t ruin me if I make a mess of you first.” 
Sunghoon chased after you, his heart pounding at the happiness on your face. 
God, he really was the luckiest man alive.
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3K notes · View notes
deadghosy · 28 days
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How they would react to teen sinner! Reader getting catcalled/ S/A:
WARNING: long depending on your reading speed, explicit language, uncomfortable themes, read if you don’t wanna read anything you have encountered in life like this. If you are dealing with s/a please call your national hotline. This will be the only time I write something like this cause this is a serious topic.
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LUCIFER
It was late in the pride ring as you snuck out of the hotel wanting to get snacks and a drink. I mean shit you died in the late 2010’s, you’re use to this shit. So you went to a store as you didn’t see an older sinner smirk, slowly gazing your body up and down as you grab a pair of chips and energy soda.
“Hey sweetie…” the older sinner says as he slowly appears behind you. You divest even bother to look at him as you felt him get closer. You whipped around and glare at him only to see such an ugly sinner who looks homeless as well.
“Hey now, I’m not gonna harm you.” The man says grabbing your arm and pulling you toward him. “I just wanna see your pretty face little boy/girl.” Your eyes widened shocked. You tried to pull your arm as he tugs tighter. You yelled for him to let you go as he dragged you out the store. You were not gonna let some creep take you! So you bit his arm hard as fuck. He let you go, but not without punching you.
You ate the punch but start to run to the hotel you know and love. You ran as your heart beat for safety and away from anything else. You didn’t think it would be like this, but what could you except. This is hell itself. There’s a lot of ass holes and bastards that deserve to be here.
You ran inside ignoring the look of a certain king who was sitting down in the lounge room, he swore he saw tears fall down your cheeks. He felt his heart ache to know what was wrong with you as he slowly followed after you.
A soft knock was heard as you look up to see the king of hell, the man who always gave you ducks when you first came here. ���Kid are you okay? I heard you cry?” He said worried seeing you tear up hearing his worried voice. It wasn’t making it better as you ran into his arms. He was move back a bit at your usually tough attire cracking into a soft and scared one. Now he was concerned.
He set you back in bed as you rant out about what happened, even giving a description of what he looked like. After a bit of comfort in for Lucifer and him petting your back a lot. You sniffled a little, feeling better than what you felt as Lucifer smiled at you sleeping against his lap. He sighs sensing you sleeping as he poofs away from your sleeping body.
“DONT worry kid…that bastard isn’t going to see another hellish day…” Lucifer says walking out of the hotel as his hat overcasted his face.
It was a new day as you woke up to play your regular tv show only for the news to play. “BREAKING 666 NEWS!!! ALLEGED PEDOPHILE DEAD AT GRIMM’S MARKET AS HIS HEAD WAS-” the news was cut off by Lucifer who had a guilty expression as you had a wide eye expression shocked that the bastard got some quick karma.
ALASTOR
You and alastor went on a walk together as he wanted you to get off your pesky small picture rectangle. He’s talking about your damn phone.💀
“And I told the fellow gentleman to make my meat, medium rar-” before Alastor could finish his story about how he went to a restaurant. You groaned tired of this, you wanted to sleep and be on your hell phone since you miss the human world.
Alastor rolls his eyes with a smile, he pinches your cheek making you huff. “No need for an attitude!~” he said in a song tune voice you pushed him away from you embarrassed. “I don’t need to fix my attitude old man..” you say walking a bit forward ahead of the deer demon.
The radio demon chuckles, but the chuckles stops when seeing you immediately get whistled at by a male sinner who eyes you. You flipped the sinner off before going back to Alastor, holding the older’s hand as he slightly move in front of you.
It seemed like this asshole was trying to talk to you, but he couldn’t as alastor smiles down at the sinner. “C'mere sweet thing. Why don’t you come and get a drink with me.” The sinner says. You and Al narrow your eyes at the sinner, you weren’t budging from behind alastor who stands strong and confident
“I don’t think they will be going with you anytime soon my dear fellow.” Alastor says with a strained smile. The sinner was definitely new and didn’t know who was companying you at this very moment.
“I don’t think I give a fuck.” The sinner says teaching his hand out to your frame.
The sinner tried to make an attempt to grab your arm from the radio demon. There was a ring of static in the air whilst making the sinner stop grabbing your arm. Alastor grabs the arm that dares to try and take you from him. Alastor smiles eerily at the sinner.
“I’ll teach you some respect you filthy pest.” He says as static seems to boom the area before he goes full demon mode and drag the filth to the alley to have a nice “talk.”
Their screams were broadcasted on his radio station the day after they whistled at you. Alastor made sure to have his shadow follow you for a few months before he was sure you were fully okay. Harassment towards a minor, is a big no-no.
VAGGIE
You wanted to help her get more flowers for a decoration of a trust exercise, so she let you run the errand.
You ran out the hotel happy and excited. You always weee excited to help the hotel ever since you died. You knew your mom was in heaven so you wanted to be redeemed quickly and possible.
You went to the flower shop smiling which gained the attention of a female who smile sweetly at you. She approached you holding a flower. You knew not to take things from strangers, even demons as Charlie and vaggie told you.
But it’s a flower, what’s the worse that can happen. Plus you need flowers for the event itself. As you grabbed the flower, the flower sprays out this gas that made you feel slight drowsy. You feel your body limp as the woman comes closer to you.
You try to push her off as she caresses your body. With your mustered up strength, you use your sharp nails/claws to stab her eyes and run.
The flower drug was slowly taking affect until you did a few symbols on yourself. You learnt it from Lucifer as he gave you a book. The drug wore off but your mind was scrambling. You felt yucky and violated. As you bursted through the hotel door, accidentally running into vaggie’s arms.
“What the fuck happened!!?” Vaggie says concerned as she sees the bruises on your wrist. Her eyes widen. “What. Happened..” she says seriously.
You explained the situation while sobbing softly. Vaggie comforted you in her hold as she closed her eyes ashamed at how she wasn’t there to protect you. She was suppose to your guarden. Your parental figure.
Vaggie takes you upstairs, run you a bath and just watched you softly. Guilt in her eyes for not being a good parent to you and just follow you to make sure you were okay.
The whole night, she stayed close to you. Not even dropping her guard when it comes to you. You are too precious to go through this. She just hopes you can recover.
She’s not letting you out of her sight ever again. Hell she might teach you how to fight , but might go overprotective on you and keep you in the hotel until she and you were sure to go outside again.
CHARLIE
It was during a trust exercise with one of the new residents…
It was a trust fall activity as Charlie shows the residents how it goes. You say what you have in your mind and do the trust fall. After Charlie does it with vaggie. It was your turn and the sinner’s.
The sinner looked calm and you were anxious as you never done the trust fall game. Even in the human world.
As you stood on the stand talking to every member of this exercise and Charlie. She gives you a thumbs up which made you smile and gain confidence in talking. You fell backwards into the sinner’s hold as they caught you.
But they didn’t let you go. You tried to tell them but they didn’t let go still. You felt their hand travel around you and gr0pe your lower and waist. Your eyes widen as you try to move away from the bastard.
Tears were in your eyes as you hyperventilate at how you feel their touch. It burns, it feels like lit burns. Charlie notices what is going on. She gets up and pulls the bastard from you. She pushes you behind her as she looks behind her to see if you were okay. Whilst she does that, she glares heavily at the sinner.
“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN TOUCH THEM LIKE THAT?!” Charlie yells as her demon form was slipping out of anger seeing you run towards her. Hell was going loose as the sinner tried to back away from the raging aura Charlie was releasing.
Before Charlie can send hell fire at the bastard who dares to gr0pe you, you grabbed her arm. You know she isn’t really the type to kill someone and might regret it. So while you grabbed her arm, she calmed down and stared at you. Her yellow pupils going back to red as she glares at the sinner.
“Your stay isn’t welcome here..” Charlie says lastly as alastor takes the sinner away, probably to kill them and eat em.
Charlie takes you up stairs as you grip onto her arm. Her gaze on you soften with protectiveness and worry. She can’t believe that happened to you.
She checks on you everyday and has to mane sure you are with a resident before leaving the hotel. She feels guilty knowing she wasn’t there to protect you. Charlie must definitely hands razzle and dazzle to you if you are going out or going to sleep.
HUSK
A drunk resident had walked into your room as you were busy doing art work.
It was a night that you were relaxing in your room just drawing. You always had a passion to draw, maybe even to be an artist.
Your father figure was down stairs tending the bar. Husk was giving drinks to a resident, husk could tell that the drunk bastard has enough. He told the bum to go upstairs as he had enough beers.
Husk watches the person go upstairs, stumbling and staggering. The cat demon rolls his eyes as he hears a door close, assuming the sinner went to their designated room.
You were so busy listening to music you didn’t notice someone enter your room. As you put down your pencil, going for a crayon. You noticed a resident you would see at the bar. Your eyes widen smelling the strong alcohol from their body as they walked closely to you.
A curling scream came from your room making husk immediately drop the glass he was cleaning. He rushes upstairs to see the problem and why you screamed. He sees you being pinned down by the sinner he was tending to earlier.
“GET THE FUCK OF THEM!” Husk yells, eyes filled of anger. All he saw was red as he pulls the bastard off you and starts to beat the person up repeatedly. Their face was bloodied as heavy breathing came out of their face. You stopped husk as you had already been traumatized. Husk stops, breathing heavy before he kicks the bastard all the way down stairs.
You sometimes still relive through that moment as husk stays beside your bed. Husk would have to calm your down from your panic attacks from that night as you lash out at your own “father”
“Kid. Kid! Calm down…it’s okay. I’m here for you..fuck. I’m here for you.” Husk says calmingly while you try to get out of his hold. Still in panic mode. He had to hold you tightly for you to understand that you were now safe.
Hot tears fall to your cheek as you sob painfully at what you just experienced. Your tears made husk’s heart break and shatter. He was just glad you were okay in your room for now.
He holds you to his chest as his fur called you down even more. You sniffled holding him tight as if he would disappear if you let him go.
He felt your heartbeat go slow as you fall asleep in his hold. He stays close to you the whole night as he promises that he will always protect you. You are like his own child since you came to the is shit hole.
He lets you stay by him in the bar as you fall asleep. He grumbles a lot remembering that night as he almost broke a glass in his hand. You are only a kid…
ANGEL DUST
You were sent to find angel dust, only to see him in a bar drunk. So what did you do? Try and drag him out only to drag into trouble
You went into the bar to see Angel drunk, he was also talking to some demons who smirked at his drunken state.
You scoffed going over to grab Angel dust. As you went to grab him, one of the demons made you sit on his lap as if you were ready to meet Santa Claus. But you weren’t as you headbutt the demon and grab Angel dust.
The rest of the demons pull out knives and gun. Your eyes widen as you rushed pout the bar door, sensing the demons on your tail.
You throw a beer bottle at one of the members, the shards went in their eyes. Even if it was a small trick, the screams distracted those asshole as you make a run for the hotel.
You gently laid angel dust in his bed as his eyes tears up, realizing the situation and what could’ve happened if you didn’t take advice from Vaggie about combat.
“Shit…I’m sorry for getting you in this shit.” Angel dust says as he looks away with a drunk shamed look. You sighed, you’re just a kid looking after a drunk adult.
Angel sobered up a bit after you left him in his room. His memory fuzzy, but it was clear that you were uncomfortable with those damn demons that were eyeing you. Even if you got pulled into someone’s lap, that made him disgusted.
He promised you when you first came here that he would protect you. You was like a little sibling to him. He couldn’t believe how he was a drunk asshole who couldn’t even protect someone he cared about most.
Angel was actually sober for months after that encounter. Worried you would run into those demons he was with that night. He would also make you more like force you to watch fat nuggets while he is at work.
He would probably make a deal with Valentino or probably mostly alastor to make sure you were safe since that day.
SIR PENTIOUS
You were trying to find Frank, one of the egg boiz in the pride ring only to run into trouble.
You found Frank being ganged by some sinner who looked from the modern era you are from. You looked around for something, and you found an old computer. Mustering up your strength, you threw that bitch at their head.
Frank runs to you, holding your leg tightly. He was happy to see you were okay with him. You and the egg right here was like family as you smile at how cute he was happy to see you. Pentious would be happy to see Frank is in good condition
You left the alley way and start to chat with the egg boy by your side. It was have been obvious that you were being watched as a female sinner stared at you and your body. You felt the gaze and scoff making Frank raise a brow until seeing the sinner. The sinner seemed scary for poor Frank.
A whistle was made towards you, you flipped them off as you picked up the poor egg who was trembling. He obviously was trying to seem strong for you but it fails as he holds tightly to you. The sinner lady smirks as she follows you. You felt more uncomfortable with Frank as Frank was trying to warn you that she was gaining speed for you. But you already knew.
You made a circle with your hand, a portal opened and it closed immediately when you entered it. The portal sent you to the hotel in one piece with the adorable egg boy.
Your face was stoic with some disgust in your eyes. Eyebrows furrowed on your face as you entered Pentious’s room with Frank.
“Ssssweetheart? What happened? Whatssss wrong?” Pentious says as he notices your disgusted look. "Nothing nothing. Here you go penny." You said brushing off the feeling on your shoulders. But it still noticeable in your body language.
Before you could walk out of the room after putting Frank down. Frank just had to open his eggy mouth. The egg confessed that you were catcalled and almost followed to the hotel until you did your powers you have conquered in hell.
“Why that behavior is not acceptable to a minor!! That bunch of filth shall learn to never mess with my dear friend.” Pentious says as he forces out of his room so you can get a fresh start on a new days and this time he is making baby gates for his eggs so they will not bother you anymore
He was planning all night to see what he can use as a revenge for the cat calling you had experienced. Frank was also giving sir Pentious ideas also. It seemed they both agreed on one plan to have your get back.
He used his machine weapons to destroy that monster who catcalled. He was definitely making sure the laser was fast so he can come back to you and make you cookies so you could feel better. For the rest of the week and probably month.
CHERRI BOMB
You wanted to grab a snack out for Cherri and you. You left the hotel as she started to stay, as you left you didn’t notice of couple of shark demons. The leader smirked flicking a cigarette from his mouth eyeing you. They whistled at you making you scoff and keep walking.
The leader nods his head at you as the sharks move towards you snickering. You felt their presence, luckily you brought your…damnit you left your pepper spray.
The leader grabs you trying to pull you into an alley as your eyes widen. In a heap of panic you screamed for help, that only made it worst. Next thing you felt was a slap to your cheek as you sobbed.
The leader and the members chuckle grabbing your hair. With one final effort your screamed, but it wasn’t an ordinary scream. It was a sonic one that blew them away (a/n: sorry if it sounded corny😕) With that you left in a hurry inside of the hotel. Tears running down your eyes, you ran upstairs passing Cherri who looked shocked to see you run pat her like nothing.
“Sweetie?” Cherri says softly, her Australian accent showing her absolute worry for you as she followed you into your room. She sees your face in your pillow. Softly sobbing, scared as your adrenaline was still high. She sat next to you softly holding you in her arms hoping you would open up. And you did after calming down. 
After explaining what happened with a tired and broken voice, you couldn’t believe that this would happenu to you. You felt kinda yucky being touched but you felt safe with Cherri.
“What a fuckin' asshole. I bet his dick is small…don’t worry honey.” She says caressing your back as you sniffled before falling asleep.
In the aftermath, she blowed up their house in honor for you.🔥💗 no witnesses either.
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HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT!
Remember that my requests are closed, so please if you are new to my blog check out my other work as I am currently working on other requests‼️ THAT ARE IN MY DRAFTS, not the ones people are asking me. So please don’t DM me and respect that please.
And mostly, please seek help if you are going through any abuse or assault related issues. Everyone needs to speak up in their own experiences. ❤️
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catopoliscat · 1 month
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next time / kento nanami/fem!reader.
who would have thought that kento nanami was a virgin? not you. not after this long. perhaps he was saving himself for someone. perhaps he was waiting for you.
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tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab reader. penetrative sex. alcohol. dry humping. virgin!nanami. mutual pining. friends to lovers. creampie (wrap it kids). unprotected sex. touch-starved!nanami. canon!verse. you've known nanami since school. tinges of angst. nanami wanted you bad lmao. it's love babey. reader has experience. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever. wc: 7.7k. a/n: i kind of fear nanami's a little ooc here lmao, but i've spent too long on this so fuck it we ball he deserves this
also how mad would you be if i said this was set a week before shibuya arc be honest
mdni.
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You’re a bottle and half of zinfandel deep when Nanami tells you. 
Although you’re both a little warm, tipsy perhaps, you didn’t think either of you were quite drunk enough for this conversation just yet. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you to share a drink on a Friday, or a bottle in more pressing times. 
There were more bottles than glasses, lately. 
It was just two old friends, catching up. Talking. Complaining--usually about Satoru. Often you’d reminisce on easier times. Warm summers in the Jujutsu High courtyard, the cold tin of a soda in your hands, a bottle of water in his. Quiet talks of dreams and eventualities. Ignoring the gaping absence of a third at between you. 
Tonight though, you’re not sure when the topic had changed. Somewhere between the last dregs of the first bottle and the beginning of the second, the conversation had grown more sombre than usual. Talk of love and relationships always seemed to make the air heavier around the two of you, for different reasons. A stark air of loneliness that not even the most tart of white wine could overpower.
You had offhandedly mentioned turning down one of the windows you had met on your last mission. He had been younger than you, still full of life where the holes in yourself had long since emptied it out. You had shaken your head, flattered, but tired. There were better options for a man like him, still full of hope and vitality, a whole life ahead of him… when you knew any day yours could be cut deftly short. 
You had told yourself it had little to do with the fact that the man’s bright smile had reminded you of another, so many years ago.  
In the quiet of Nanami’s living room, swirling the last drops of your wine in your glass, you had mentioned that you had no real desire for relationships anymore. Other than sex, of course, but only sexual. A temporary release, one of the few you had left. Nameless faces and hurried touches. Sometimes clinical, sometimes primal. Always quick, and never the same person twice. 
You know?
To which Nanami had replied, “No.” 
Misunderstanding the gravity of what he was saying, you had raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing at your lips. “Not one for one-night stands?” 
It occurs to you distantly that you don’t know a lot about Nanami’s romantic life. Close as you two were, or so you liked to believe, he had never really mentioned it. And you had never asked. 
Nanami had shook his head in response to your question, and you had nodded. It aligned with his character, you thought. As cold and stoic as he liked to act, you couldn’t imagine a world where he would use and discard someone. He felt too much, cared too much. He would love too much too, if given the chance. If he gave himself the chance. 
In your musings, you had almost missed what he had murmured next. 
“I’ve never had sex at all.” 
Kento Nanami. A virgin.
The confession has your lips parting, your eyes blinking. Once, then twice, akin to an owl. You glance down at your wine glass for a moment, as if it had been the slightly smeared glass that had been speaking to you instead, and not the esteemed stoic sorcerer you had known for the better part of ten years. 
You look over at Nanami on the couch, but he’s staring at the carpet, his expression contemplative, almost pensive. His brows are drawn taut, a small knit on his forehead. His lips are drawn into a thin line, a slight crease in his chin. There was a specific emotion dancing in his eyes. You almost dared to use the word vulnerable.
It seems… ridiculous. Nanami? Attractive as he was? Kind, considerate, hard-working, to a degree. A woman’s dream. In another life, perhaps your dream too.
Had it not been for Nanami’s serious demeanour, and the fact that ‘joke’ and ‘Nanami’ rarely went together in the same sentence, you might have thought he was pulling your leg. A joke between friends. 
But he wasn’t. He very clearly wasn’t. 
“That’s… fine,” you finally say after a small moment, fearing you had let the silence linger too long. “There’s no rush for these things.” 
Nanami’s hum is short and clipped. Gruff, almost. He still refuses to meet your eye for now, and you make no move to change that. You get the distinct feeling that this newfound vulnerability doesn’t stem from him never having sex, but rather, the reason why he’s denied himself - because you know for a fact it has little to do with opportunity. 
You had lost track of how many women you had watched Nanami turn down, clipped and short, yet always polite. 
The silence is heavy between you. In the other room, you can hear the hum of his refrigerator, the buzz of the bulbs in the lights. Nanami’s apartment has always been quiet, but this silence feels suffocating. Paired with the wine, your head feels thick, your tongue thicker. 
A few moments pass, and as the revelation of his virginity settles into your stomach like seltzer water, you realise… it makes sense. Nanami wasn’t the type to use someone for sex, even if eager. He’d only have sex with someone he was in love with. Someone he trusted at the very least. 
And Nanami, as he had told you and a few others before, refused to entertain the thought of love whilst he was a sorcerer. No one with two working brain cells needed to ask why. He wasn’t alone in that choice, either. 
You toy with the stem of your wineglass whilst you toy with a reoccurring thought in your mind, one that you entertained often, but had yet to voice aloud. 
“You shouldn’t keep depriving yourself, Kento,” you say quietly. The use of his first name, rarely used in your adulthood, garners you a glance from him. It’s a small sign that you’re taking this seriously. 
“I’m not deprived of anything.” 
You scoff at that, small and quiet. “You deprive yourself of a lot, apart from pain,” you drawl, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. Like always, the wine and Nanami’s masochistic tendencies have your tongue loosening more than it should. “I understand not wanting to have sex with anyone you’re not in a committed relationship with. It’s kind of… admirable, and definitely you.” You fold your arms across your chest, fixing him with a stare that he still refuses to meet head-on. “But why deny yourself the chance of love?” 
In the back of your mind somewhere is a voice chanting ‘hypocrite’, but you ignore it. Nanami, however, does not. 
He finally turns his head to face you, the lines underneath his eyes seemingly heavier in the dim light of his apartment. An eyebrow arches. “And meaningless sex is different?”
You scoff again, louder this time. “It’s not meaningless just because I don’t love my partner.” 
“Or even know their name?” 
You raise a sharp eyebrow, your own lips now pressing into a thin line. A part of you wants to retort, to snap, but you remember the vulnerability in his face from a few moments ago, and you just about hold your tongue.
With an exhale, you grab the half-empty wine bottle off of the coffee table instead and gesture for Nanami to hold out his glass. He does, and the glug of the wine fills the space between you.
“You ever thought about it?” You ask, filling up your own glass. In your peripheral, you see him sit quietly for a moment before he nods his head. 
“I’m only human.” 
You hum. “You should experience it,” you add. You swirl the wine in your glass once before bringing it up to your lips. “Even once. Even if it means nothing.”  
With one glance, you can tell immediately that the idea doesn’t sit right with him. It was easy to forget sometimes how rigid and traditional he could be. Formalities that few seemed to care about these days. Always on the things you least expected. 
“I couldn’t,” Nanami replies, shaking his head. 
Oddly, you feel the desire to insist. Days of a sorcerer were short, and getting shorter every year. Younger than yourself and Nanami had already died long before they would ever have the opportunity to touch another, kiss another; to feel the warmth of a body against your own. They would never know what that distinct pleasure was like, even if they desperately wanted to. Time was infinite to the young, until it wasn’t.  
It occurs to you quickly that you’re thinking of Haibara, and everything you and Nanami had experienced that he never would. 
Something must show in your expression because Nanami raises an eyebrow at you. You swallow, before setting your glass back down on the coffee table with a dull clink. You look at him, your face surprisingly collected and casual for what you’re about to ask. 
“What about me?” 
Nanami’s questioning look only deepens for a moment, before something passes by his eyes. His lips part, his version of a falter. You know he knows what you’re implying, but still, he asks, “…what about you?” 
“What if we had sex?” You say without hesitation. “You know me. You trust me.” 
Nanami falters further. He straightens in his seat, his glass resting on his thigh, the thick muscle straining against his slacks. His whole body is thick with a tension you usually only see before a fight with a particularly highly graded curse. A vein protrudes from his neck.
His eyes flick between your face and your own glass, clearly wondering if it is time to call this night done, but you rise from your seat before he can, taking a small step toward the couch he’s sitting on. 
You sit down next to him, a little closer than you usually might. He doesn’t move away. Your thigh brushes against his, and this close, you can hear his breath hitch in response. 
“I’m not going to push this any further, Kento,” you say quietly, “but I’m letting you know it’s an option.” 
Although you and Kento were hardly affectionate with one another like most friends, you decided to take a chance tonight. You had already taken several, what was one more?
Reaching out, you take his glass from his hand and set it next to yours on the coffee table. Hesitating only a moment, you place your hand on top of his, your fingers curling around until your fingertips touch his palm.
His hand is stiff and warm underneath your own. The bones and knuckles press against your skin.
Something in the back of your mind is wondering why you’re pushing this at all. Would it matter if Nanami died without experiencing the pleasures of the body, really? Would the world stop turning for either of you? You know if Nanami really wanted to, if he felt the want, the desire - then he could leave this apartment right now and find someone willing, someone other than you. He could have done so years ago, during those few years he had masqueraded as a normal human being with a nine-to-five. 
You were risking a friendship over… what? The implied hopes and dreams of a dead fifteen-year-old? Haibara was dead. It didn’t matter to him whether Nanami experienced the things he never could. 
Nanami’s gaze flickers between your eyes for a moment, and this close, you can see the faint traces of the wine staining his lips. Your gaze must linger for a touch too long because his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. The pink skin glistens with the faint glimmer of his saliva.
When you look up, you see his eyes trained on your own lips, before they quickly flick back up to meet your eyes. 
“We’re friends,” he murmurs, his voice low, slightly thick. 
“And we always will be,” you reply.
He glances down at your hands. Somewhere between your own thoughts and Nanami’s reiteration of your friendship, your hands had interlocked, fingers intertwined like vines. He was gripping your hand a little too tightly to be comfortable, but you didn’t flinch. 
You’re not sure whether it had been your subconscious doing, or his. 
“I… can’t,” Nanami mutters finally, closing his eyes for a moment. “Not like this. Not… now.” 
Something clenches in your heart at his rejection, although you had expected it. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s denying you, or himself. 
You smile softly nonetheless and nod. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” you say quietly, going to pull your hand from his grip and give him some space. 
Only he doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightens slightly. 
Your eyes flick between his hand and his eyes, still trained on your face. You raise an eyebrow, your lips parting to speak, but he beats you to it. 
“But I’d like to kiss you.” 
Something resembling a very quiet ‘uh’ pushes past your lips in a long exhale.
You’re not sure why the idea of kissing him felt more… intimate than the fact that you had offered your body to him only seconds prior. You’re not sure why there’s a prickle of heat at the back of your neck or your lips burn with a sudden need.
“Nanam-“
As if remembering himself, he shakes his head slightly, blinking away whatever stupor had just possessed him. He looks away, his grip on your hand loosening, but not quite pulling away. 
“I… don’t know why I said that,” he mumbles. “You should go-“
Your free hand is already gripping his chin, turning his face toward yours a little too sharply. A subtle grunt leaves his throat as he looks at you, his gaze foggier than usual. From the wine, you, or the whole situation? Who knows. 
Fingers against his neck, feeling the quickened thrum of his pulse, your thumb brushes against his chin, pulling the skin until his lips naturally part. You feel Nanami’s shaky exhale against your lips as you lean forward, warmth breath mingling with yours, the scent of wine heavy on the air. 
You close the distance slowly, giving him time to stop this, to pull or push away. To draw an end to this nonsense before it went any further. 
Instead of pulling back or pushing you away, he closes the gap so quickly your noses almost bump together. 
The first press of his lips against you feels hurried and unsure. It’s off-center slightly, barely hitting the corner of your mouth, but Nanami is quick to correct it. He slots his lips against yours more firmly the second time, his lips parting to capture yours fully. You feel a rush of air against your cheek as he exhales through his nose. 
The kiss is unhurried, curious almost, yet there’s a subtle urgency in it that surprises you. Your free hand moves from his chin to his jaw, fingertips softly caressing the sharp curve of it. The sound and feel of his sigh against your lips makes you shiver, and you become enamoured with it. 
Enamoured with him.
You part your lips further, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip, finally tasting the remnants of the wine that you had spotted earlier. An odd sound builds at the back of his throat before his mouth parts too, his tongue brushing against yours. 
Something changes quickly then. His hand, larger than you ever really noticed, cups the back of your neck, his calloused thumb pressing against your jaw, drawing you closer. Your other hands, still intertwined, seem to tighten around one another like a snake's coils. The wet smacks of your lips grow louder in the quiet of his apartment, just about overriding the sound of increasingly ragged breaths, borderline panting. 
Your head feels thick. Dizzy. The kiss is indulgent, almost sloppy now. Nanami’s tongue is in your mouth, exploring every crevice, tasting you with an eagerness you hadn’t thought he was capable of. Every time you brush your tongue against his, your taste buds wetly sliding against his own, a small sound rumbles in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and grumble. 
After a moment that feels like an eternity too short, you pull back slightly, just enough to see his eyes as you open yours. Nanami denies you this, however, because when you open your eyes, his are still closed, almost scrunched. A faint frown tugs at his brow. 
He leans forward until his forehead rests against yours. The heat of his skin against yours feels searing, your noses softly brushing against one another’s. He sighs deeply, as if pulled from the back of his chest. It almost sounds like defeat. 
“Kento-“
“I want you,” he breathes out, and your voice almost hitches as you feel rather than hear his voice. It’s a deep, husky sound, more rumble than syllable. But there’s a crack in his tone belying a raw vulnerability that you weren’t familiar with. Not from him.
His eyes finally open, looking up at you from underneath his brow. His hazel eyes are almost black, you realise, the familiar colour you’ve always admired swallowed up by a sea of coal. You wonder if yours are the same. 
He’s trembling too. You can feel his fingertips shake where they press against the nape of your neck. 
“I thought you didn’t want… this,” you murmur. ‘Sex’ suddenly feels too…
“I changed my mind,” he replies, a touch too quickly for you to believe that he was thinking clearly. 
But God, did you want him too. You want him so fucking bad it almost makes you ache. Your feelings toward Nanami had always been friendly, respectful. He had been your closest friend, your ally, your confidant. You had been through so much together. You liked him, every part. 
And somewhere along the way, between the four years apart as he pursued a different life and the first time you had hugged him when he finally returned, Gojo grinning over his shoulder… you think, that like had changed to love.
It quickly occurs to you that you weren’t pushing Nanami to experience sex for fear of him missing out. That was you. You were scared of missing out on him.
It’s that revelation that makes you pull back slightly, and Nanami’s eyes widen a little, some of the hazy fog clearing. His hand slides from the back of your neck, falling limply against the couch next to your thigh. 
“I… I shouldn’t have put you in this position,” you mutter, glancing away, staring at the two wine glasses on the coffee table before looking back at him. “It’s your choice. Your first time should be on your terms, not because I think you’re missing out or depriving yourself.”
You go to remove your hand from his, but once again, his grip tightens, but there’s a tenderness to it this time. A gentle squeeze, almost begging you not to go. Not yet. 
He looks serious now, staring at you squarely, as if about to deliver a mission report, and its the first familiar expression you’ve seen on his face thus far. He swallows thickly, the only thing belying his hesitation. 
“I said I couldn’t have a one-night stand.” 
You frown. “And th-“
“I don’t want this to be a one-night stand.” 
Some of the breath flees your lungs as you look at him. His lips are still pink and slightly swollen from kissing, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the wine and your touch. You become distinctly aware of the scent of his cologne, faded but warm from his skin. It’s soft, smoky almost. You have the urge to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and breathe.
You know what he’s trying to say, what he’s trying to ask. You know what he wants because you want it too. You realise you’ve wanted it for a long damn time. 
Words fail you. They feel… inadequate to describe what you’re feeling, what you desire, what you’ve always desired buried down underneath the guilt and trauma. 
But you still can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Not here. Not yet. 
And neither can he.
You’re not sure who makes the first move, all you know is that your lips are pressed against his and he moans into your mouth as if something had finally let go. It’s like a cork had finally been released, a lifetime of pent-up feelings pouring out in one gush. 
His hand is back at the nape of your neck, holding you tightly this time, unwilling to let go. His lips part more readily with every press, his tongue seeking yours with a pinpoint determination. You skip his jaw this time altogether, aiming straight for his hair that you’ve been dying to touch since… you don’t know when. 
The hand that had been holding yours hostage finally releases, only so his fingers can brush against your waist. His fingers brush against your ribs through your clothes, tugging you closer until you’re rising up onto your knees on the couch just to oblige. He’s tilting back, his broad shoulders bumping against the couch cushions behind him - and it’s only distantly you register it’s because you’re pushing him back against it. 
Something shouts at you in the back of your mind to take your time, to savour this, to savour him. You may want each other badly, but this is Nanami’s first time. It should be done carefully, respectfully, the way he would treat you if this position had been reversed. 
But then Nanami’s hand has moved from your waist to your thigh, blindly grabbing it as he pulls it over his lap. Before you know it, you’re straddling his hips with a huff against his lips, and something like a sharp, pained groan leaves his lips. 
You pull away from his lips with a ragged breath, concern knitting your brow until you realise what the cause of his groan was. 
Straddling him, you can feel the pulse of his desire underneath you, the hard ridge of the bulge in his pants pressing insistently against your core through your own clothes. One hand is grabbing your hip tightly, almost too tight, as his forehead rests against your shoulder. The other hand is on your thigh, his thumb digging into the plush flesh there. 
His breathing is ragged, extremely so. Hot puffs fall against your skin. You weave your fingers through his hair softly, and you watch with reverence as a strong shudder rolls down his spine in response.
“We can stop, if you’d like,” you murmur against his ear, going to rise up on your knees to give him a little breathing room.
“Don’t,” he grunts, the grip on your hip and thigh quickly stopping you. He exhales again, a shaky sound as he keeps his forehead stamped against your shoulder. His voice emerges again, barely audible, slightly pained. “...I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Your grip in his hair tightens in response. In a flood, memories of him rush through your mind. A thousand different glances, subtle touches, small clues. Even in school, the way he would linger, a touch closer every time Suguru or Satoru would appear. The hand at the bottom of your back in a restaurant. The way he would lean in to hear you in a crowded place. 
The way his arms had tightened around you when he had returned after four years away. I missed you too, almost inaudible against your ear. 
Nanami didn’t want a one-night stand. What was the point of sex at all, if it wasn’t with you? 
The thought has you rolling your hips down against his before you can stop yourself, feeling the firm length of his cock grind against your core. A moan leaves your lips, and something guttural leaves his. 
The hand on your thigh moves up to your other hip, pulling you down tighter against him as if he could slide inside you right now. “Don’t tease,” he hisses between clenched teeth. He turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against your neck. He leaves a searing, open-mouthed kiss against your pulse point. “Not now, not after this long.” 
“You think you’re the only one who waited?” You pant as you grind again, firmer this time. His hips buck against yours in response, a muffled groan leaving his lips, imprinted against your neck. You can feel his cock throb against you, twitching against the fabric that separates you. 
“…you wanted this too?” He breathes out after a moment. 
You nod, though you doubt he can see it from the way his face is buried against the crook of your neck. “Since you came back. Since you hugged me back and said you missed me.” 
His hands move from your hips to wrap tightly around your waist as if he couldn’t bear for a single slither of space to be left between you two. His hips jut up against you once again, a ragged breath leaving his lips. It seems the idea of you wanting him for so long the same as he had the same effect on him as it had on you. If not more. 
He holds you a little tighter, running the sharp point of his nose along your throat as he tilts his head up. Finally, finally, he breaks free of your neck to look up at you, lips parted, eyes almost desperate. 
With a thick swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing, he goes to say something but falters, and murmurs your name instead. His dark eyes flick between your eyes and your lips. His cock twitches underneath you. 
“Please,” is all he can croak out, and the moan that almost leaves your lips would have been primal. 
You nod your head, giving his shoulders a small squeeze, pushing him back slightly. He seems reluctant to let go, but finally relents after a little insistence, reclining back against the couch. His arms unwind and his hands drop to your hips. He looks up at you, clearly waiting for your lead. 
You sit back slightly on his parted thighs, the muscles firm and supportive underneath you. Letting your hands fall from his shoulders, you drag your fingertips slowly down over the expanse of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his wrinkled shirt. As your fingers skate over his abdomen, you feel the muscles flex and roll. Nanami looks at you readily. 
“We should do this properly,” you murmur, your eyes trained on the lower buttons of his shirt, near the waistband of his slacks. “In a bed.” 
Nanami, to your surprise, shakes his head quickly, giving your hips a small squeeze. “We’ve waited long enough.” 
You raise an eyebrow but don’t disagree. Despite the need, the ache, the pulse of your own core, you can’t help but think of if the positions were reversed. The image of candles, roses and soft music fills your mind, Nanami’s guiding hands and murmured praises. It would be slow and romantic. Perfect. 
“Nanami,” you breathe out, almost chastising. With the way his cock is pressing against you, you have no doubt he’s not thinking clearly right now; the thought of having what he had wanted for so long within his grasp clouding rational thought. 
He shakes his head again, a lock of his mussed hair tickling his brow. “Next time.” He shifts, sliding down the couch a little more and spreading his thighs - and in turn, spreading yours. He grips your hips tighter, pulling you a little closer until you’re seated right on top of him. “Next time,” he repeats in a groan. “We’ll go slow. I’ll explore every inch of you, taste you. Now, I just want…” He exhales an unsteady breath, sounding like your name. “I just want you.” 
Your fingers linger near his shirt's lower button, and one of Nanami’s hands unclasps itself from your hip to gently grasp your wrist. He guides your fingertips to the belt buckle, the metal cool against your hot fingers. 
You meet his eyes once more, and his gaze is a paradox of firmness and vulnerability. He’s nervous, you think, but ready. Almost desperately so. 
Without another word, your other hand reaches down to join your other one, and your fingers are surprisingly deft as you slide the leather through the metal. Nanami watches your hands with rapt attention until the belt is loose. Your fingers slide over the metal button of his slacks, and you don’t check in this time. You pop it open before sliding his zipper down, the crackle of the metal teeth as loud as a gunshot between you.
A small sigh of what you think is relief leaves his lips as the fabric parts, giving you a small glimpse of the dark boxers underneath, straining over his cock. A small wet patch blooms at the top, wear his tip would be, and a shudder runs through you. 
Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his underwear, lingering for a moment. You look up at him at the same time he looks up at you. Without a sound, Nanami lifts his hips and you rise up to your knees. 
With a few firm tugs, you manage to inch his slacks and boxers down enough to free him. A small huff leaves his lips as the cooler air of the apartment hits his overheated flesh, and you watch in rapt attention as his cock twitches, the flushed tip glistening already.
It’s longer than you expected. Thicker too. Uncut. A prominent vein runs up the underside of it, and you have the sudden urge to follow it with your finger, or your tongue. 
Nanami shifts underneath you, and you realise you’ve been staring a touch too long.
You pull your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes, and his breathing seemed to have quickened. Anticipation is making him stiff, almost antsy, a rare sight on a man you’ve rarely ever seen anything of other than composed. 
It’s endearing. 
Reaching down, you satisfy your own urge and run your fingertip up his shaft, following the vein, feeling it pulse steadily to the rhythm of his heart. Nanami’s hips twitch, his eyelids fluttering. Dark eyelashes tickle his cheeks.
When you curl your fingers around him, gripping him firmly at the base, his eyes shoot open, snapping to the sight of him in your palm. You give him one pull upwards, and a bead of pre-cum wells in the divot of his slit. 
“Fuck,” comes out in a very quiet, gruff choke. Your eyebrows rise in surprise, a small smile on your lips. Nanami didn’t always curse, and especially not like that. 
“Language, Nanami,” you tease, and his eyes flick up to you, something indignant and impatient in his eyes. You usually weren’t one to tease, and he wasn’t one to be teased. 
You continue to stroke him slowly for a moment, rubbing your thumb against the sensitive tip. You fingers quickly become tacky, the glide of your hand more fluid, until the lewd wet noise starts to rise to the same level as Nanami’s breathing. He grunts with every upward stroke, his hips twitching underneath you. Had it not been for your weight on top of him, you get the distinct feeling he’d be bucking up into your palm a little more eagerly. His head falls back against the couch, lips parted, his eyes fluttering closed once more as he relaxes more into the sensation. 
It occurs to you that you’ve seldom seen Nanami this relaxed. 
“Are you sure you want to do this here?” you ask, “with me on top?” 
He nods but doesn’t open his eyes. His hands run up from your hips to your waist, a soft caress. “It’ll be… easier for me- hah-“ Another choked groan leaves his lips as you give the head of his cock a small squeeze, and Nanami’s hand flies to your wrist in a blink, stopping you from making another move. 
You feel his cock throbbing in your grasp, and Nanami’s straight-up panting now, his eyes slightly wild as he tilts his head up to look at you. It’s an arousing reality to know that you had just pushed Nanami dangerously close to the edge without even meaning to. 
“I won’t last,” he murmurs, looking up at you, his eyes shining.
 You realise quickly that he’s actually asking a question. Are you sure? 
“This time,” you reply with a small smile. With his hand still around your wrist, you give his cock another squeeze, and he grits his teeth, that vein in his neck protruding once more. You can see the taut muscles in his abdomen flexing from where his shirt has bunched up. 
As much as the idea of making Nanami cum, right here, right now, appeals to you, you relent for now. You’d love nothing more than to watch him spill into your palm, to see the euphoria and bliss play out on his face… but that was for another time. The next time, perhaps. 
You release his cock, letting it fall back against his lower stomach with a dull smack, making him hiss through his teeth. Leaning forward, you brush your lips against his throat, nipping at the skin softly. 
You guide his hands to the waistband of your own bottoms, and he wastes little time in following your unspoken order. The press of your lips against his throat clearly distracts him, but he manages to pull down your clothes enough to leave you in your underwear. You kick them off the sofa haphazardly, not leaving his neck for a single moment. 
He catches you off guard when his hand immediately dives for your sex, cupping your heat through the dampened fabric. You stutter against his neck, gripping onto his shoulders for support in response. 
Your eyelids close, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you feel just how wet you are. “Nanami,” you gasp.
“Kento,” he whispers quickly. Once, then twice, he rubs his palm along your clothed pussy, something guttural building in the back of his throat as you buck down into his touch. “You’re… so wet.” 
The wet spot on the fabric clings tightly to your folds, doing very little to dampen the sensation of his touch. His fingers are exploratory, a tentativeness that belies his lack of experience with this, but his touch, the fact it’s him, here and now, makes up for it all. 
You can’t remember the last time you enjoyed a touch such as this. Not like this. 
Despite toying with Nanami’s cock until he almost burst, hypocritical impatience gets the better of you, and you remove your hand from his shoulders to tug down your own underwear, kicking it off to join the growing pile on the floor. Bare from the waist down, Nanami’s eyes roam over the exposed skin almost hungrily. 
Both calloused hands run up your thighs, pressing into the soft flesh slightly. You see his hand move for your pussy once more, but your fingers are curling back around his cock again before he can distract you. 
Next time, keep parroting in your mind. Next time you can both endure hours of foreplay; touching, kissing, tasting, the whole nine yards. You promise to make him cry out before he even sinks inside you, to run your tongue along every inch of his skin until you’re sick of the taste of him. You’d know he’d do the same. 
But you two had waited long enough. 
Gripping the base of his cock again, you brush it up against your heat, your own slick smearing across him. Nanami’s eyes almost roll back into his head, but he closes his lids before you witness it. You’re faring little better, the mere sensation of having him against you like this, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your clit sending you dizzy. You angle your hips, and just feeling the thick head press against the tight, slick ring of muscle is enough for a moan to already tumble past your lips. 
Something flickers in Nanami’s gaze as he opens his eyes again, honing in on the sight of you braced above him like this. He grips your hips, his touch light, merely supporting you for now. You look back once into his eyes, and go to check in just once more, but he leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s little more than teeth and raw need. 
His lips pressed against yours, you sink down, the wider head of his cock slipping inside you. Your lips part in a soundless gasp against his mouth, swallowing the ragged groan that leaves his throat. The stretch is slightly more than you’re prepared for. Distantly, you think, skipping foreplay wasn’t the wisest idea, but desperation, need, pushes you forward regardless. 
So you sink down further, inch by inch, and as he slides deeper and deeper, his grip on your hips grows tighter and tighter, until the force of his fingers dulls the ache of his cock kissing your cervix. 
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as you finally bottom out, hips sitting on top of his. You realise you’re breathless, and that cowgirl might not have been the best position for taking someone of his size. Certainly not in one go, like you just had. 
Nanami is fairing no better. His mouth is agape, his biceps trembling where he clings to you. He seems dazed, winded, panting into your mouth as his arms wind against you. He pulls you forward, and you both moan as his cock seems to slide just that little bit deeper. 
You’re dizzy, strained, stretched out far more than you can ever remember being before. Your eyes are scrunched closed, your forehead knocking against his. Everything feels distant and muffled. It takes you a moment to realise Nanami’s muttering something repeatedly in fragmented gasps.
When you open your eyes, he’s looking at you almost panicked, his eyebrows knitted upward. His teeth are bared, gritted - and it’s now you notice that you’re clenching around him so tight that you’re not sure if you’re causing him more discomfort than pleasure.
You swallow thickly, trying to catch your breath. You’re flushed, prickly heat blooming across your chest and neck. You shift a little, and something pained rumbles from the back of Nanami’s chest in response.  
“Do you want me to stop or-“
“Don’t,” he grunts, his fingers shaking against your back. “Don’t move.” 
The throb of his cock inside you is insistent, and it takes everything in you not to clench tighter around him in response. You know he’s close, dangerously close, and as much as you want to rise up on your knees and slam yourself down on his cock until he’s begging you to stop, you clench your jaw and relax. 
You bury your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin softly; small pecks and affectionate touches. He shivers, and his cock still pulses, but slowly, muscle by muscle, he relaxes too, ragged pants dissolving into hot, muted breaths. His arms around you loosen, holding now, not gripping. 
“Tell me when you want me to move,” you whisper against his ear, pressing a small kiss to the lobe. 
He nods, brushing his cheek against yours with a soft sigh. His hand moves from your back upward, until he cups the back of your head, drawing your lips back to his. It’s a soft kiss, loving; slow and sensual slides of wet skin mingling with gentle exhales. Before you know it, and before he says, you’re rolling your hips greedily, just grinding against him for now. 
A guttural sound leaves his lips. His forehead feels hot and sticky pressed against yours like this, a strand of his hair tickling your cheek. 
You feel his thighs shift, widening as far as the slacks still around his thighs can allow, feet planted more firmly into the carpet. The first roll of his hips is disjointed, off rhythm with your own, but the slight drag of his cock against your walls has you moaning brokenly. The second roll, a little more confident, has you pressing your hips down to meet it, and your back arches like a cat.
“Fuck yes,” you moan, your voice thick and throaty. You moan his name, wait for the third shallow thrust, and meet it. “You feel so fucking good.” 
He looks up at you like you hung the stars, his eyes widening at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips like a fractured halo. He loses his rhythm, but you soon pick it back up for him, starting to use your thighs to slide more eagerly down his cock. It’s still shallow, Nanami’s arms around your waist preventing you from really going for it, but you’re unwilling to part from the closeness for now. 
You bounce a few inches at a time, the dull clap of your hips and the lewd squelch of your hot cunt wrapped tight around him filling the air of the apartment. With each bounce, a grunt pushes out from his chest, hot breath fanning across your face. 
Nanami, though inexperienced, starts to let his body guide him. His hips buck up to meet you more confidently, and the growing force of his movements has you keening, fingernails biting into his shoulders. 
You look square into his hooded eyes, breath mingling, and see the flush across his skin, his lips glistening with saliva. You moan again, higher pitched this time, and Nanami’s next thrust has you jolting up a little, nose bumping against his. You clench around him again, and his brow knits together. 
“S-Shit,” he pants, his hips starting to jolt more readily, pushing a little too forcefully into you, quickly losing his rhythm. “I’m not… I’m not going to last…” His movements quicken, grow more erratic, and you’re not even sure he realises. “… you’re so fucking… tight.” 
The last part is little more than a throaty whisper, his voice cracking. You stop meeting his thrusts and instead, widen your stance, tighten your core, and let him take what he needs. The movement, though small, isn’t lost on him, and he looks up at you, emotion swimming heavily in his dark gaze. 
He thrusts up grow more erratic, sloppier, something like a grunt leaving his mouth with every dull thwap of his hips against your ass. His arms tighten around you, fingertips pressing into your skin. A groan, a hiss, and a swallow. The couch creaks and strains. 
“N-Next time - hah - next time… I want t-to feel you cum around me,” he pants, his arms starting to shake. “I’ll give you everything, anything, fuck, I-I’ll keep going until… until… God-“ 
He’s barely pulling out now, a mere inch is all he’s moving, the head of his cock bullying against the soft spot right next to your cervix. Choked, high-pitch moans are the only sounds you can make, and you distantly note you’ve never sounded like before. Not ever. 
You’re getting there, you realise. Not quite close, and definitely not as close as him, but the way his cock fits inside you, the slap of his hips against you, the way he’s looking at you… it’s pushing you there fast. 
But it’s not quite enough. 
“I’m close,” he gasps. “I… where…” 
“Inside,” you reply without hesitation. Something passes by his eyes, a small flicker of concern, perhaps, swimming in the sea of lust and arousal. You try to find your bearings enough to tell him it’s okay, you wouldn’t have taken him inside if you weren’t protected-
-but then his cock is twitching inside you, and Nanami is shaking, shaking underneath you, his thighs jolting, nearly bucking you off his lap altogether. 
With one last slam of his hips against you, buried as deep as he could possibly ago, a long, primal groan leaves him. It’s deep, visceral, easily mistaken for something pained - and it might be the most divine fucking sound you’ve ever heard in your life. 
He buries his face against your throat as his hips buck involuntarily a few times, and you shiver as you feel that familiar warmth bloom inside you. He’s giving you everything, or what feels like it. Your pussy flutters around him, and his fingertips press into you so tight you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises. 
His heart is hammering against your chest, the thump pounding even in your own chest. Ragged pants and a heavy quiet settles over the living room. His cock continues to twitch inside you, growing weaker with every thud of his heart. 
Nanami doesn’t pull his head from your throat for a long while, his nose pressing into your skin as he pants against you. 
After a moment, he finally swallows. “… I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I… I should have made you-“ 
“Shut up,” you murmur against his warm hair, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and his shampoo. He seems to get the picture, of what you were trying to say. He always did. “Next time,” you add anyway, just to be sure. 
He lifts his head from your skin, looking up at you blearily. You smile fondly as you see his face again, the harsh lines on his brow and his eyes smoother now, no longer creased as they always seemed to be. He looks… so much younger, you think, like this. Relaxed. Sated. 
You brush some of his sweaty hair out of his face, and his eyelids flutter at the brief contact. He seems exhausted, you think.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs as he looks up at you. “I don’t want this to…” His palm moves against your back, sliding down your spine. “I want you. Properly. I always have.” He swallows. “Always.” 
Your eyes soften. He looks at you expectantly, almost vulnerably. 
“You have me,” you murmur in reply, finally. “Properly.” 
A small smile tugs at his lips, and it’s warmer than you’ve ever seen before. Genuine. Light. It’s as if a decade of weight lifts from his broad shoulders, if only briefly. 
He pulls you close once more, his lips pressing against yours softly, lovingly, and the world seems to fade away. 
For now, of course. 
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masterlist.
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beskarandblasters · 1 month
Text
Red Wine Supernova
No Outbreak!Abby Anderson x F!Reader
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Ways to help Palestine
Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist
Author’s note: Inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan!
Summary: You move to a new neighborhood where you run into Abby at the gym. You start seeing more and more of her until the both of you can’t take it anymore— you need to take it to the next level.
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied and wears a skirt, no outbreak AU, drinking, smoking weed, kissing, Abby’s a FLIRT, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), sex toys, edible lube, pet names (baby, pretty girl), no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
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A new neighborhood. A new beginning. You aren’t thrilled that your landlord decided to raise the rent but it meant you got to move to a new area, a much cooler area. For example, you’re walking distance to a gym. But now you also have roommates. Whatever. You’re not too old for roommates yet. 
And you had to swap your king-size bed for a twin mattress since your new room is much smaller. 
Whatever. It’s cool. 
You win some, you lose some. 
-
It’s been a week since you’ve settled into your new apartment. You’re walking to the gym, looking to sign up for a new membership. Maybe meet some people in the neighborhood. Fifteen bucks a month? Not bad. 
The worker hands you a little chip to keep on your keychain and you’re on your way. You put your stuff in the locker room and head back out to the machines, opting for a treadmill first. 
Your eyes wander between your phone and the TV’s on the wall. Until your eyes linger on something— someone else. 
Long hair in a braid. No bra. Your type.
She just finished bench pressing. And… she caught you staring. 
She smiles and gives you a small wave. You look away quickly, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 
After a beat, you look at her again. She’s walking to another machine. She’s hot. And not to mention so fucking buff?? She’s wearing a dark gray muscle tank. Her biceps are peppered with freckles, glistening in a fresh layer of sweat, and pumped up from her workout. 
Before you know it you’re tripping over your own feet, stumbling a little on the treadmill. Guess you were ogling her too hard. 
If she’s a regular fixture at the gym, you’ll be more motivated than ever to work out. 
-
It’s Friday night. You’re waiting in line to get into a club. Coincidentally it’s also just a few blocks away from your new apartment. It’s a little chilly, the nighttime breeze makes goosebumps prick your thighs. You’re wearing a miniskirt and go-go boots, glitter on your collarbones, ready to dance the night away. You’re here with one of your roommates, Sam, who agreed to come with you even though clubbing isn’t really her scene. 
When you get inside, you spot her again. The girl from the gym. She’s wearing a t-shirt this time and the sleeves look like they’re ready to pop from her muscles. Fuck. 
She’s on the dancefloor, laughing and having a good time. You notice the way her nose crinkles when she’s smiling. You hope she notices you. Or maybe you don’t. It’s hard to tell. Your stomach is swirling and your knees feel like jelly. But why? You haven’t even said a word to each other. 
Sam notices you staring and follows your line of sight, giggling to herself when she notices who you’re looking at. 
“You know her?”
“I’ve seen her around before but I couldn’t tell you her name.”
“What do you… What do you think of her?”
“She’s cute!” She scans the room and finds the bathroom across the way, turning and telling you, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Shoot your shot!”
And with that she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. You look back at her, your little crush, and notice she’s with a few friends– two men and two women. You hang back and make your way to the bar, ordering a vodka soda and trying not to be too obvious about watching her. 
You failed. Because she makes eye contact with you and smirks. One of her friends, a woman, whispers in her ear. And before you know it she’s coming over to you. Shit. Shit. Shit. 
“Hey!” she semi-shouts over the music. 
God, she’s so fucking hot. This is the first time you’re seeing her up close. There are more freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. Her hair is in the same braid as before and you’re wondering if that’s her signature look. 
“Hi!” you semi-shout back. 
“I’m Abby!”
You tell her your name and she says, “Nice to meet you! Are you new to the gym?”
“Yeah! I just moved to the neighborhood!”
“Sounds like you need some friends in the area. Let me introduce you to mine!”
“Okay!”
You down your drink and set it on the bar. She grabs your hand and leads you to her friends on the dance floor. You learn their names are Manny, Owen, Mel, and Nora. They’re all really nice. Owen and Mel seem to be in a relationship. The six of you spend the rest of the night dancing. But you can’t seem to get over the fact that Abby grabbed your hand. 
Sam comes back out from the bathroom and Abby introduces her to the group. You spend the rest of the night dancing and drinking until you close out the club. You stumble out onto the sidewalk and bid goodbye to Abby and her friends. She pulls you in for a hug and butterflies flutter in your stomach. 
Is this real life??
“Catch you at the gym!” she says before letting go and waving goodbye, leaving with her friends down the street.
“You guys are cute together,” Sam says. 
“You think so??”
“So cute I think I’m gonna throw up,” she laughs, starting the walk home. 
“That’s from the drinks!” you shoot back, stumbling home drunk and giddy. 
-
Ever since that fateful night at the club you start running into Abby more and more. The place you see her most often is the gym. But you also see her on the street, at the grocery store, and even at a gas station one time. Each time you guys cross paths you make small talk, talking about the weather, what TV shows you’re watching, what movies are out– the minor stuff. But you’re dying for a chance to get to know her. 
You’d get your wish soon enough.
-
It’s another typical day at the gym. You’re running on the treadmill. Abby’s lifting weights. She hasn’t noticed you yet but you’re too shy to say hi first. 
Eventually, she spots you in the giant mirror lining the perimeter of the gym and swiftly comes over to you. You take your earbuds out and set them by your phone on the treadmill. 
“Wanna come to my place tomorrow night?” she asks, cutting right to the chase. She leans against the treadmill, smiling at you. 
You slow your pace to a walk and say, “Sure!” startled by her forwardness but welcoming it all the same. 
She grabs your phone off the treadmill and opens your contacts app, typing in her phone number and address. Your cheeks heat up at the bold move. 
“Is seven okay?” 
“Fine with me,” you choke out. 
“Okay,” she says, placing your phone back on the treadmill. She throws her hand towel back over her shoulder and says, “See you tomorrow!”
But before she walks away she pants a swift slap on your ass. 
You yelp in surprise followed by a giggle. You swivel your head to follow where she’s walking– to the locker room. And she’s laughing to herself. God, you’re done for. Head over heels and you haven’t even spent any time alone together yet. 
-
Tomorrow night rolls around and you opt for a skirt again. You look over your appearance one more time in the mirror before setting off into the night, punching her address into your phone. She’s only a fifteen-minute walk from your apartment. 
As you walk there the apartment buildings shift into houses and you realize that she most likely lives in a house. Impressive. 
She’s waiting on her front desk for you. She waves and calls your name, a lighter in her hand. 
“Hey! How are you?”
“I’m good! How are you?” God, you’re so fucking nervous.
“A lot better now. I rolled us a joint. Do you smoke?”
“I did a little bit in college.”
She hands you the joint and you put it to her lips, leaning in for her to light it. You inhale, turning your head away so you don’t blow the smoke in her face. But you start coughing and feel a little embarrassed. 
She chuckles a bit and takes the joint from you, telling you, “Take it easy! Especially if it’s been a while.”
She gestures to the bench behind you and you take a seat. She sits beside you, the outside of your thigh touching hers. She takes a hit, exhaling the smoke effortlessly, without coughing. Your palms grow sweaty and your mouth grows dry. She hands the joint back to you and you take a much smaller hit this time. You already feel yourself loosening up and getting more silly. And soon enough, you’re laughing with each other. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s wearing a smirk. She turns towards you and asks, “What made you move to the neighborhood?”
“Rent went up at my old place,” you say, handing the joint back to her. 
“That’s too bad. But at least it brought you here.”
“Yeah,” you say, looking around at her large deck and the front of her house, “How’d you score a place like this?”
“My dad left it to me when he passed.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be!” she takes inhaling. She exhales the smoke and continues, “It happened a while ago.”
“Tell me about yourself. What do you like? Got any hobbies?” you ask, trying to change the subject.
“I like going to the gym,” she shrugs, “But you know that already.”
“Mhm,” you say taking your turn to smoke now. 
“I collect coins.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… Is that surprising?”
“A little. But it’s cute,” you reassure her. 
“I like magic,” she snickers.
“Hang on,” you say, stifling a laugh, “Like doing magic?”
“No! Like watching it.”
She laughs, taking the joint back from you and bringing it to her lips now. You’re really feeling it now and you know that if you stood up you’d be stumbling a bit. 
“I can tell you about magic,” you say, leaning in as she taps off the joint in the ashtray on the table beside the bench. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm, I’ve got a wand and a rabbit.”
“You what??” she laughs again. 
“You know like… like the toys,” you say, realizing your joke didn’t quite land.
She laughs even harder now, head thrown back and her nose doing the cute scrunchy thing again. 
“So it was funny?”
“It was funny,” she affirms, handing the joint back to you. You finish it off and toss it in the ashtray, leaning against the bench and feeling giddy.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks. 
“Shoot.”
“I want to fuck you.”
“You do??” you say excitedly, inching closer towards her. 
“I do,” she says, looking into your eyes. Her eyes are red, pupils blown wide. You can only imagine how you look right now, “But maybe when you’re not blasted.”
“That’s fair,” you say. 
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kiss you right now,” she says, leaning forward and closing the almost nonexistent gap between you two. She kisses you, soft and intimate. Her lips are plush. She smells like a mixture of whatever perfume she’s wearing and weed. God, this can’t get any more perfect. She reaches a hand up your face, caressing your cheek. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you’re in disbelief this is even happening right now. 
Her tongue brushes against your lips so you part them to let get gain access. Her tongue explores your mouth and pretty soon you’re moaning into her mouth, complete putty in her hands. She tears away from your mouth, kissing down your jawline and onto your neck. 
“You could come over to my place tomorrow night,” you say. 
“Mhm,” she says against your skin.
“I’ve got a California King, you know,”
“Mmm, I bet,” she chuckles.
“Okay, maybe it’s a twin bed… And I have roommates.”
“Baby, I don’t care,” she says, just before sinking her teeth into your neck. 
That elicits a deep moan from you, louder than you were expecting. She keeps going, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin before licking the mark she just made. You place your hand on the back of her neck and the other holds onto her braid. That does something for her because she moans into your neck, holding you tighter. 
She pulls away and says, “Let’s not get carried away for tonight.”
You sigh and agree, leaning against her shoulder. 
“I’m glad we met,” you whisper.
“Me, too,” you whisper back.
-
Once you’ve both sobered up a little bit she walks you home, your hands brushing against each other’s as you walk. She waves goodbye, watching to make sure you get inside safely before leaving. You stumble up the stairs, still feeling a little high and giddy from the evening’s activities. 
Once you’re in your room she texts you and says, “Same time tomorrow?”
You reply, “Sounds good!” before throwing your phone on the charger and flopping onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with a wide smile until you eventually drift off to sleep. 
-
It’s the next day and when you eat breakfast at the kitchen table this morning you learn that both of your roommates will be out tonight. Perfect. 
Sam’s going out with her boyfriend and Bri’s working a double. If all goes right, you’ll get to be as loud as you want… on your twin-sized mattress, of course. 
You spend the day cleaning your apartment and showering, getting nervous the closer it gets to seven. She texts you when she’s on her way and now it’s game time– the moment you’ve been pining for for what feels like forever. 
You wait downstairs for her and her face lights up into a big smile when she finally sees you. She’s wearing her classic dark gray muscle tank and jeans, hair pulled back into her signature braid. She greets you with a hand on your waist and a kiss on your lips. 
“You ready?” she murmurs against your mouth. 
“Born ready,” you respond, kissing her again. 
You lead her up to your apartment and into your bedroom. She takes a look around your room before her eyes land on your bed. 
“This is the famous California King, huh?” she chuckles while picking up a bra you forgot to put away. She tosses it on your chair and turns back towards you. 
“Listen… I used to have one.”
“That’s a shame,” she faux sighs, “But I’ll make you scream regardless of what size bed you have.”
“Oh,” you say, cheeks heating up.
“What are you waiting for? Strip for me, baby.”
You nod eagerly and take off your t-shirt and bra, kicking off your sweatpants. 
“Now where’s this wand and rabbit?” she chuckles.
You walk over to your nightstand and open the drawer, taking out your bag of sex toys and lube. She sits at the foot of your bed, rifling through the bag while you lay down, body shivering with anticipation. 
“Ready for me, baby?” she says, holding the rabbit and a bottle of edible lube in her hand. 
“Mhm.”
She squirts a dollop of lube in her hand and spreads it on your pussy. It’s cold and makes another shiver run down your spine. She turns the toy on and slowly inserts it inside you. A moan hitches in your throat. She kneels in between your thighs, hand still on the toy, and lowering her face above yours. 
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”
“Yes,” you breathe, already wanting more. She has the toy in the lowest setting. 
“You want more, don’t you?”
“...Yes,” you admit.
“Ask like a good girl.”
“Please Abby… I need a higher setting.”
She grants you wishes, turning up the setting on the toy. Vibrations run through your core and against your clit. You’re in a state of bliss, eyes fluttering shut. But Abby grabs your chin and says, “Eyes on me, pretty girl.”
You maintain eye contact with her, mouth falling open into a soft O. 
“How do you feel?” she asks.
“So fucking good.”
“Are you close?”
“...Almost.”
She turns up the toy to another two settings. And you’re getting closer to the edge now. You’re excited to cum but you also want her to make you cum, whether it’s from her mouth or her fingers– whatever she pleases. 
“Cum for me, baby,” she coos, head cocking to the side. 
You cum hard, walls clenching the toy and your whole body spasming. It’s intense and she keeps the toy flush inside you as you cum. Your moans are loud and incessant. And now you’re especially thankful your roommates are gone for the night. 
“Good girl,” she praises, turning off the toy and bending down to kiss you. 
“That was amazing,” you breathe out.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Well, you’re far from done.”
Your cheeks heat up and your body shudders. She pulls the toy from you and lowers herself so her face is in between your thighs. She licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt, tasting the mess you just made. She’s gentle at first. She knows you just came. But it doesn’t take long for her to lick her fingers and insert one inside you. 
“So wet for me, baby,” she says, curling her finger slowly against your g-spot.
“Mmm because you take such good for me,” you sigh.
“That’s right,” she says, latching her mouth to your clit. She expertly swirls her tongue around your clit and inserts another finger inside you. You’re sent into a state of euphoric bliss, body tingling with waves of pleasure. 
She moans into your cunt, eyes closed with her lashes fanned out against her face. She’s well on her way to taking your second orgasm from you. Your cunt tenses up in anticipation of release, pulsing around her fingers. She opens her eyes and looks up at you. Your chest rises and falls as you pant. Your hands grip the sheets for purchase. This one feels different but better, all thanks to her. 
“Abby, I’m gonna-” you start but you cut yourself off with a moan. You writhe on the bed, back arching and stars swirling in your vision. Abby wraps her free arm around one of your thighs, keeping you in place. 
You cum for a second time, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. She continues to suck your clit and finger you through your release. Your moans and whimpers are loud, no shame in hiding them. And now you’re starting to feel spent. But even still she’s not done with you. 
She pulls her fingers from you when she’s done, placing them in her mouth and sucking off your wetness. But soon enough her face is back and buried in your cunt. 
She stays there, lazily lapping up your release and pulling a few smaller orgasms out of you here and there. You lose count of how many times you cum tonight but you’re not complaining. 
Eventually, when she’s decided you’re spent she lies beside you, resting on her side and looking into your eyes. 
“You did such a good job for me, coming that many times.” 
You go to respond but instead, you yawn. She sits up and takes off her clothes, lying beside you again and pulling you into her. 
“What about you?” you ask sleepily. 
“You had a big night,” she says, “Besides we can always do more in the morning.”
“Okay,” you respond, snuggling into her, “Goodnight, Abby.”
“Goodnight, baby.” 
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mylonelylittlestar · 3 months
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XAVIER: RED FLAGS
Summary: Some of Xaviers' tiny and massive red flags Warnings: mentions of murder
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Will sometimes not show up to dates because he didn't hear his alarm in his sleep. He feels guilty about it, but it will happen again.
Can't cook at all. Genuine fire hazard in the kitchen, which is pretty bad for a normal human, but he's like... old. He should know how to cook.
Too calm about murder. Like he just isn't bothered when he has to kill people. Doesn't care about corpses and blood, etc. There's no guilt, no shame, nothing. It's a regular Tuesday for him.
He gets a bit confused when you freak out about him killing someone, not realising how odd his behaviour is from your point of view until you spell it out for him.
He probably takes the health of your heart as seriously as Zayne does (if not more seriously) and he will never explain why. He doesn't see the point in coming clean about that stuff.
He will also probably never explain the star tassel on his sword. He will just say that someone he loved very dearly gave it to him a long time ago and never tell you that he's talking about you. He doesn't realise that it makes you feel like you're the second choice unless you explicitly tell him.
Eats your leftovers without asking. Doesn't matter what it is. He's like a racoon.
He will also eat stale chips and flat soda without complaint when he's hungry (and he's always hungry)
Has no playlists on Spotify. He just listens to his liked songs on shuffle
You could get murdered next to him, and he would accidentally sleep through it (and then he would hunt down the people who killed you and wait for your next reincarnation)
Does not own a single pen. Not even one. Or kitchen scissors. Or tape. Or straws. Or more than 3 cups and 4 plates. But he does have a bedframe and nice curtains and bedsheets and beautiful towels, and that makes him better than a lot of other guys.
Has to buy new headphones every 3-5 months because he keeps losing them. He usually forgets them on the subway.
He takes a lot of time in the shower. Sometimes you think he fell asleep while washing out his shampoo.
Top player in the world in some shitty mobile game like garden scapes. He has definitely spent money on it as well after promising himself he would never do that, and thousands of older women worldwide ask themselves who that mysterious number 1 player is who's somehow level 18457
Regularly has to Google most phrases that people around him use because he genuinely doesn't understand them. He also still uses slang that is decades old (he's been alive for a long time and trends die quickly okay. It's hard to keep up with all that stuff)
Takes inaccuracies in historical dramas very personally
Doesn't talk much about his thoughts and feelings unless you explicitly ask him to do so. Would much rather talk about yours instead. He doesn't really think his own thoughts matter that much compared to yours.
He regularly has nightmares about his past. Especially about you dying in his arms (anecdotes 3). He never talks about his nightmares with you. Even begging will not soften him up. To him it would just be an unnecessary burden to place onto your shoulders.
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puckarchives · 4 months
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the (infamous) hughes brothers sleepovers: l. hughes
blurb: in which you and luke introduce the daughter the world never even knew you had to the nhl.  / word count: 1.8k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader
When the tradition originally started, Luke was in his rookie year of playing with Jack for the Devils, and began entirely as an accident. Somehow, Quinn ended up passed asleep in the middle of your living room, flanked by Luke and Jack the weekend that the Canucks played the Devils, too worn out by their hours-long FIFA and Call of Duty battles, and high off of the inordinate amount of snacks the three had consumed.
This, however, quickly evolved into an actual planned sleepover; once a month, one of the boys would host the other two at their home, where they would all act akin to literal children— they would build a fire outside, and once they got inside, would build an actual fort— pillows, couch cushions, and blankets would litter the ground, and by the time you knew it, you would come down to find all three tangled together somehow, with Luke’s arm over Quinn’s face, Jack’s head hanging over the edge of his makeshift bed, and all of them in the same order: Jack on the left, Luke in the middle of his two older brothers, and Quinn on the right. 
In short, it was the cutest thing you had ever seen— you got to see the level of adoration and love that each brother had for the other two, and got to see the way they interacted outside of the rink, and outside of the cameras and fame. During the sleepovers, they were just that— three brothers who cared about each other, and who loved each other. 
This, however, brought you to your most recent predicament: here you were at 11PM on a Friday night, trying to herd the three Hughes brothers around a 24-hour Target, following behind them with a cart that was quickly growing in the amount of sugar it held. This month was Luke’s— and by extension, yours as well— turn to host, which meant that you had the opportunity to load them all of into your car, drive them to Target, and watch them go crazy trying to grab snacks. 
“Well, if you get those, then Jack won’t eat them. You know that, Q” Luke said to his older brother, who was holding a pack of Nutter Butter cookies, while Jack was in the aisle over, stacking his arms with the Smirnoff’s he would later try to ice his brothers with. 
“Good, more for me then,” Quinn replied, before dumping said pack into your cart. He laughed as Luke added two more packs of cookies— the chewy and regular Chips Ahoy, before sliding beside you, laying a pack on your forehead, and then following Quinn as he walked into the next aisle in search of their middle brother. 
When you followed them, however, literally only seconds later, you were met with an unexpected sight. As you steered your cart, you stopped midway, because there, in the middle of the drink section of a Target in the middle of nowhere New Jersey, stood all three Hughes brothers, with Nerf Guns pointed at each other, resembling that Spider-Man meme where they all stood in a triangle, pointing at one another. 
Before you could ask what the hell was going on, they fired— Jack ducking before Luke’s bullet could hit him, but hitting Quinn square in the chest as Luke ran to get behind you, using you as a human shield. After no more shots were fired however, they all stopped where they were, stood up, and continued to act as if nothing had happened. Jack loaded up the two pack of sodas and drinks, Quinn kept walking into the neighboring aisles, and Luke tapped away on his phone, all acting as if they hadn’t just had a full-on Nerf war right in front of you, and as if your boyfriend hadn’t been using you as a human shield from it. God, you were way too old for this, you thought, before sucking it up and laughing to yourself as you traversed the next aisles. 
By the time you were checking out of the Target, your bags were packed to the brim with overly-sugary snacks; ranging from the aforementioned cookies, (which Jack refused to even touch because of the vendetta he had against anything peanut butter related, apparently,) to three separate bags of Lime flavored chips that ranged from the original version, to kettle cooked and rice chips, and the three cases of Mountain Dew, Smirnoff Ice, and Vitamin Water— God, these boys bought snacks as if your house was entirely bare, instead of full of perfectly good food. Regardless, however, you watched as they all worked in tandem to scan, bag, and then push the cart back to your car, load everything up in a swift manner, and even get in the car with no complaints. As weird as the Hughes brothers were, they sure knew how to work as a team— to ensure that no single brother carried the load of the work, but instead simply work in what you could only describe as harmony. Each completing their portion fo the task, and doing so without even having to ask; a well-oiled machine you knew was built from their childhoods, and from the years and years of hockey camps, or cheering the others on, and of simply being brothers.
Luke was the beginner of the group; he’d start the task, fall into his role, and wait for the other two to join him. Jack would follow— would see what Luke needed and do whatever he could to ease it, or to make it go faster; to be more efficient. And then Quinn, as older brother, would ensure that the other two were taken care of, before putting himself at the end— tying up their loose ends, making sure what was being done was done in a correct manner, and closing it off. A perfectly coordinated team. 
It wasn’t until the four of you got back to your shared home with Luke that all hell seemed to break loose once again. While the car ride back had been relatively tame, you driving because you had decided you were the only one who didn’t love hitting every single curb, and didn’t break like a semi-truck had rolled over right in front of you, Luke had sat in the passenger seat, connecting his phone to the aux and playing the signature Hughes Brothers Playlist— a playlist that seemed to disobey every single law of organization to have ever existed, as it would switch from some country song he liked at the moment, to LMFAO and Lil Jon’s “SHOTS,” until swiftly moving to Adele’s “Hello.” All three brothers sang to every single song, though. All without missing a single beat. 
Odd music choices aside, however, when the four of you ended up back at your house, you could hear the three of them yelling and moving around downstairs as you got ready for bed, before tapering off into the sounds of what was unmistakably Call of Duty. Before you went to bed, though, you made your way out of you and Luke’s shared bedroom, standing at the top of the staircase and looking down into the living room. You knew these sleepovers were sacred to them, and you wanted to give all three of them space— you knew, and could see, how much they cared for each other, and at times, these were the only opportunities they had to spend time together during the season, so you opted to spend time with yourself instead— even if that included letting them make a mess out of your living room.
Seemingly in the span of less than five minutes, all three boys had managed to not only push your sectional sofa to the wall, but also bring out all six dining chairs out, and set up the three pairs of sheets you had in the linen closet diagonally— laying them atop of the backs of the chairs, and adding support to their makeshift fort with the otterman, and the two kitchen bar stools. In the middle, however, you could see the three of them sitting side-by-side, all with a controller in their hands, and all trying to beat whatever game they had on— cheering on Quinn and he managed to take down their opponent, and then egging on Jack as he seemingly lost. 
As you made your way back to your room, however, the board under your foot creaked, and Luke’s head shot up to look at you— giving you a smile and you looked back down at him. “Going to sleep already, honey?” he asked, still looking up, and ignoring the looks that his brothers shared over his head. 
The other two Hughes brothers adored you— although they were a bit apprehensive when Luke first brought you home, only a few weeks after he left Michigan, you had grown to be apart of the family, and they saw you as the little sister, (and nuisance,) that was perfect for their little brother, especially when you joined Luke in egging them on as to why neither elder brother had bothered to find themselves someone yet. 
“Yeah, bub. Gonna head to bed. Remember boys, the blankets are in the hallway closet! And your toothbrushes are in the guestroom bath! Goodnight boys!” you said, yelling the last part a bit louder. You were met with a chorus of “Goodnight Y/N!” and “Thank you!” before the sounds of the three arguing won over the game once again, and you retreated back into your bed, falling asleep almost instantly.
Later, however, you were woken up by a sweltering heat. You didn’t remember it being so hot when you went to bed, and when you got up to move, you felt the arms wrapped around you— Luke, you thought. He only pulled you to him tighter, and when you turned to meet his face, you whispered his name quietly. 
“Luke, sweetheart,” you said, trying to get his attention, and asking why he was with you instead of his brothers. The only response you got from him, however, was a “Hmm?”
“Why are you in bed with me?” you asked quietly, trying to keep your voice down. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he mumbled back, his eyes still closed. While that didn’t answer your question in the slightest, the next voice that popped up did. 
“Can you guys shut up and stop being so coupley? Some of us are trying to sleep here,” he said from beside Luke, and before you could even ask as to why the hell he was in your bed to begin with, you heard Quinn’s voice next— “Lu dragged us in here. Said he didn’t wanna sleep without you” he yawned. 
You only stayed quiet, laughing at the situation. Here you were, encompassed by your boyfriend, while his two older brothers were laying on the other side of him, all because they wanted to sleep over with him, and all because he didn’t want to sleep without you. These Hughes Brothers Sleepovers sure were something, you thought, before joining the other three and falling back asleep.
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dear-ao3 · 11 months
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how to make pancakes more filling and taste better
so pancakes are actually way way easier than everyone thinks they are and they are very very easy to change up as long as you know how to
the things that you don't fuck with are the amount of flour, oil, egg, milk and baking powder/soda. as long as you stick to that on any recipe you can change pretty much anything else or substitute.
generally recipes are 1 egg to 1 cup of flour. a 1 cup flour 1 egg recipe usually serves 2 and you can double the recipe for 4, etc.
you can also substitute up to half of the four in a recipe for whole wheat flour without changing the leavening measurements. you can do the same for adding in protein powder, just adjust the sugar accordingly if its sweetened protein powder.
so, this is my favorite basic buttermilk pancake recipe, it makes about 10 pancakes:
1 1/4 cups flour 1/2 cup old fashioned oats 1-1 1/2 tbsp some kind of sweetener (brown/white sugar or maple syrup/agave syrup all work well but there's other options) 1/2 tsp baking soda 1 egg 1 1/4 cup buttermilk 1 tbsp oil of choice (butter or coconut oil generally) 1/2 tsp salt
this is the bones of the recipe. the sweetener is adjustable based on how sweet you like your pancakes but the rest of it should all stay the same. double this if you want to make pancakes to serve 4 people (about 20 pancakes)
to this, i add:
as much vanilla extract as my heart desires (within reason, i see you tumblr) some cinnamon/pumpkin pie spice/whatever you want lemon zest from 1 lemon (or orange zest) blueberries fresh or frozen (but you can use any mix in like bananas or nuts or whatever)
one very important note: you don't need buttermilk to make this recipe. you can substitute buttermilk by combining 1 teaspoon of lemon juice or white vinegar for every 1 cup of milk (its supposed to be regular milk but you can use plant or nut milk too) and letting it stand for 10 minutes.
the instructions:
zest your citrus and add it to your sugar. mush it together until you get a paste or sorts. add to that your oats, vanilla and buttermilk and stir them together. let the oats soak in the mixture for 10 minutes.
combine your flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon or spices.
after your oats are done soaking add in the oil and the egg (make sure the egg is beaten well)
add the wet into the dry and combine. make sure that all the flour is mixed in. there will be lumps. we want the lumps. then add your mix ins.
grease a pan. this can be a regular frying pan an electric griddle or a stovetop griddle. let the oil sit on the pan on medium heat for a few minutes or until you throw a few water drops on the pan and they crackle and jump.
use a 1/3 measuring cup and scoop your batter onto the pan, space them out a little but not ridiculously. flip them with a plastic spatula (ideal) 2-3 times or until they're fully cooked. (you tell if they're cooked if there's no wet batter on the sides)
voila. pancakes.
use this recipe or use the bare bones version to make your own thing.
happy pancake making.
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quickandsilvers · 5 months
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REQUEST FROM THE SLEEP HEADCANON!!!¡
💤💤💤💤
peter and reader are the closest best friends can be, even having the biggest crush on each other they keep pretending they don’t.
one day, they fall asleep together at peters bed after a movie night, and reader ends up having a wet dream with him.
peters wakes up spooning asleep reader while she’s quietly moaning and rubbing herself against him…….. BE CREATIVE I LOVE ALL YOUR CONTENT 💞💘💕💖💓💕💗💖💘
UHM YES?!?!
A:N- Sorry this took so long to get out, i wasn’t liking how dragged out it was so i had to edit a lot of this!! I hope you like it though🩷🤍🩷
Wet Dream 🔥
Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT
Summary: Reader has quite the raunchy dream about Peter one night. Spoiler alert; he’s right there to see it 👀
Warnings: switch!Peter, slow burn, kissing, grinding, humping, oral sex(fem receiving), unprotected P in V, fingering, hand job, porn with plot, Peter comes like 3 times before p in v even happens.. THE WHOLE PACKAGE PEOPLE!!!
Word Count: 6914 (had to shorten it sos!!)
Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)
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After a long week at the mansion, softened by your regular visits to the record store with Peter, you were finally free for a long weekend with your best friend and you had decided to celebrate with a movie marathon in your dorm room.
A glance at your phone read 11:06 PM.
Your roommate, Jean, was bunking with Scott tonight; and you had grasped the opportunity for a several hour long marathon- complete with bowls of sugary snacks and two-litre bottles of soda.
“You ready?” you asked Peter as he stumbled into your living room with a variety of cake snacks in his grasp.
“Hol’ on-” he grumbled, brows furrowing in concentration as he dumped the plethora of cake snacks onto the coffee table in front of you.
Fwip.
Your eyes trained on your best friend, who was now in your kitchen jabbing numbers into your microwave.
You watch, amused, as Peter impatiently taps his foot against the tiles, closely observing the popcorn in the microwave rotate. With every pop of a kernel came Peter’s childish explosion mimic in response. Sighing, you lean back into your seat.
You were sitting on an old, yellow 70's style vintage leather couch. Its material was ripped in various places, allowing bits of white fluff to peak through the tears. These fissures in the leather scraped across your bare legs, leaving little red marks each time you moved.
Peter was the one to ‘buy’ the couch for you when you first moved into the mansion, arguing to your horrified self that the piece of furniture had ‘character and personality’ to it.
The couch was tatty and torn apart, but you couldn’t find yourself able to get rid of it, despite Charles’ frequent offers to replace it free of charge.
It was by no means comfortable, but you found that you were able to sit back and relax soon enough.
As you heard the finishing beep of the microwave and Peter’s elated exclamation of delight, you got up to rifle through a box of DvD’s, searching for the first movie of the night.
Peter, busy with squirting a sickly amount of caramel sauce on his popcorn, gave you a bit of time to get ahead and choose the movie before he could pipe in with something like E.T. You swore you could recite that film backwards from the sheer amount of times Peter forced you to watch it.
Kneeling in front of the cabinet you began to sift through your collection.
The shining? You cringed at the thought. Granted, you absolutely adored the film, but watching it with Peter was something you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy. You were jumpy enough without Peter’s sudden ‘BOO!’ yelled down your ear just before a scare.
Pretending to be scared and cuddling into your best friend was pretty nice though; that boy had enough body heat to put Lucifer to shame.
You grab a pile, rifling through them in quick succession. Ghostbusters? You had watched that last week. Grease? No one wants to see Peter’s Danny Zuko impression. E.T? Think again, motherfucker.
By the time Peter had proudly walked in with his creation, you had narrowed it down to 2 films. You turned to smile at him, and he flashed you a broad grin as he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth before appearing next to you.
Fwip.
The speedster peered over your shoulder at your movie picks and cocked a silver brow.
“Can’t we jus’ watch E.T?” Crunch.
You shudder. Whether it was due to the abominable mention of that ghastly excuse for a film, or the obnoxious chewing in your ear, you weren’t sure.
You gaped up at him. “Whaddaya mean? Carry on films are classics! Better than a film we’ve seen 12 times already.”
You weren't even lying.
“I dunno, it’s jus’ the same sex-crazed people recitin’ the same half-arsed scripts for 30 films straight. Don't even get me started on the laughin’ tracks, babe.”
You shoot up and point an accusing finger at his pajama-clad chest. “This film deserves way more respect than the utta bullshit you’re tryna spew!”
Peter presses his lips into a line to avoid a snicker, smirking knowingly at you and holding up a caramel coated finger to your own chest.
“One word. Emmannuelle.” Crunch.
You whine and Peter smirks at catching you out, raising his eyebrows and walking backwards onto the couch, licking his finger and closing his eyes to relish in the sugary goodness.
“That’s not fair!” Your voice raises a few octaves as you eye his adam’s apple in motion, before continuing to search through your stack, “There’s 30 films and you picked the worst rated one!”
“Princess, don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Peter responds nonchalantly, hand reaching into the popcorn bowl that he had already ingested three-quarters of. “Once yer’ve seen one, yer’ve seen them all, really.” He shrugged.
You couldn’t really fight his reasoning, instead settling with a short huff. Finally, after a quick eeny-meeny-miny-mo, you picked one of the films and popped the disc into the DVD-player.
“Buuut it is yer turn to choose. And i guess yer did sit through the last one.”
You turn to him. “‘Sit through’? I liked it!”
“Yer eyes were glazed over not even 10 minutes in!” Peter chuckled, “It’s alrigh’, babe. It’s not to everyone’s taste.” Crunch.
“Well atleast i’m not the one geekin’ out the whole way through!” You scoffed, plopping yourself on the couch and knocking knees with your bestfriend “You fuckin’ clapped when RD-23 came on the screen!”
“R2-D2.” He corrected under his breath, his unoccupied large hand moving to rest on your lower thigh.
Peter loooved Star wars and it clearly showed. In this moment he was adorned in a plain black t-shirt and stormtrooper pajama pants, of which hung deliciously on his hips, showing off his V-line which had you watering at the mouth. God, he had such a slutty waist.
He ‘bought’ you a matching pair like ‘all best buds do!’ except yours were little shorts and a smaller black t-shirt.
“We could just watch Revenge of The Sith instead yunno?” You offer, eyeing the slither of skin where his shirt had ridden up.
Peter shook his head, his soft silver locks moving with it. He was still hung up on when you “fainted” at the sight of Harrison Ford. You wouldn’t shut up about how good he looked for his age.
For his age? Pfft! He’s got nothin’ on a mutant with his slow-agin’ genetics!
Clicking play on the remote, you settle back into the cushions with an eager smile as you subconsciously snuggle into your best friend’s right side, easing him into a lying position.
You grin up at him and nuzzle your nose in his cheek. He tickled your side in response, making you erupt in small giggles at the feeling.
Peter happily grabbed another handful of popcorn as he watched the film, looking for a piece drizzled with extra caramel.
“Oi, not gonna share?” You jokingly pout, tugging on his wrist to take it out of the bowl.
Peter froze as he realized he had just grabbed the last of the popcorn.
Whenever you had movie nights in either of your dorms, Peter always fought you for the last of the popcorn. You always acted upset, but he knew you always saved the last bite for him.
He hadn’t thought twice, assuming you left it for him, but what if you were actually angry?
But when he tore his eyes from the comedy and peeked over at you, you were grinning teasingly at him. Peter relaxed, and threw the popcorn into his mouth. When he bit down, he winced as his tooth nearly cracked on an unpopped kernel. Curse that goddamn microwave.
“Serves you right!” You snort, sticking your tongue out at him and laughing at the speedsters' screwed up expression.
“Go ahead, princess, laugh at my pain!” Peter groaned, rolling the kernel around in his mouth until he had positioned it just right so he could spit it out at you.
You shriek as it catapults onto your cheek and bounced off somewhere in the sofa. You grab the decorative pillow you had been hugging and hit him over the head with all the strength you could muster.
When you aimed another blow to his chest, Peter caught it, and easily tugged it out of your unsuspecting grasp. You huff and lay down on the armrest, snatching a quilt laying over the back of the couch and smothering yourself with it.
Peter dove down into the back of the couch beside you and pulled the quilt over his legs, his sock-clad feet sticking out of the material and over the other side of the furniture.
His mood changed quickly: energetic and playful, and in mere moments, calm and collected.
It was helpful, sure, as he could match your energy easily and keep a conversation going.
But it’s not that great having to take over as tour guide for new students when their prior escort falls asleep whilst showcasing the professor’s english lectures. Or perhaps that was a fault of Charles’ monotonous presentations?
“Ready?” You ask, spreading the comforter over the two of you.
“Ready,” Peter affirmed with squinting eyes, and you chuckled at his tone. You knew how he took movie marathons, claiming it to be an ‘olympic sport’.
Clicking play on the remote, you settled back again, this time into his chest as he wraps a strong arm around your waist.
It still made your heart all fluttery when he did so, and you thanked the lords above you weren’t facing him, revealing your cheeks dusted with crimson.
Peter tilted his head. “What’s this one?”
“One’a my favourites.” You answered quietly.
By 20 minutes in, all soda bottles had been drained (courtesy of Peter) and abandoned in the middle of the coffee table. You had intertwined your legs with him, and Peter’s arm was now slung over your hips.
A yawn slipped past your lips, which you thought was a miracle that it had taken this long for your first sign of weariness, and your best friend glanced over at you with a knowing smile.
“I thought yer said that yer weren’t tired.” He teased, tongue in cheek.
“I never said that,” you yawned again, “I said I wanted to do movie night.”
“We can do this another time–”
“I wanna do this.” You placed your hand on his arm along your body to stop him from talking. “I’ll stay awake.”
Peter gave you another knowing look and you stared right back at him. After a few moments, he sighed and gave in.
“Alrigh’, alrigh’.” He put his hand up in mock defense. After a moment more of looking at your heavy blinks, he sighed softly. “Oh, c’mere.”
As if you weren’t already impossibly close, Peter slid his left arm under your body, moving you further towards him with a grunt and practically cradling you. You rest your head against his shoulder, melting into the familiar position with ease.
Anyone who walked in on you would think you were in your honeymoon phase, but you knew better than that. What you had didn’t need a label. You didn’t even know what label you could put on yourselves. But it didn’t matter. You were best buds. And that was enough for you.
You weren't entirely sure when you had closed your eyes. The movie was like white noise in the background, unintentionally lulling you off into sleep. You heard a soft chuckle and knew Peter had finally noticed that you hadn’t kept up your end of the bargain.
“Jus’ restin’ my eyes…” you mumbled as an excuse, yet failing to open them.
“Mhm.” Peter hummed, clearly unconvinced.
You were right on the cusp of conscious and unconscious, and right as you were about to topple over, you felt his lips on the top of your head. They lingered for 5, 10, 30 seconds. Your smile didn’t fade the entire time his lips were touching your head, nor did it fade when he moved away.
‘I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me in other places.’ You thought to yourself with a sigh.
You were aware of Peter shuffling to get comfortable and pressing into your side, lingering a light boop to your nose with his finger and observing your features as you teetered off the brink of consciousness.
——————————————————————————
Soft, supple lips fluttered down the side of your neck.
You smiled and squirmed at the pleasure brought on by the teeth that slowly scraped along your collar bone and gently nipped across the front of your throat.
The hot breaths that caressed your skin with each sensual kiss and nip set your blood on fire and forced moisture to pool between your legs.
Looking up, you saw twinkling chocolate brown eyes behind sections of silvery hair staring down at you. Your eyes widened with embarrassment when you realized who was on top of you, grinding into you slowly.
Peter ran his hand through your hair and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. He ran his lips down the sides of your crimson cheeks and down the front of your neck, biting the sensitive flesh where the neck and shoulders meet. You tilted your head to the side and sighed.
The speedster ferociously claimed your lips once again. He pressed himself between your legs and teased your center with a purposeful, slow grind. You moan, wrap your arms around him and rake your fingernails up and down his back, deep and hard enough to leave proof of the sinful pleasure building inside you.
Suddenly, Peter tore his puffed lips away from you. You gazed into his eyes and watched him smile a surprisingly effective seductive smile, nothing like the attempted smolders he had sent your way before. He slid down your body and stopped by your feet. He spread your legs wide before him.
"...Peter, what...?" you began, but your words caught in your throat.
Peter arched your leg over his shoulder and began to softly place deliberate kisses up your leg. Each graze of his wet lips scorched your skin and left a trail of endless fire burning in their wake.
You laid beneath Peter's touch, flushed and writhed in torturous pleasure. Bolts of what felt like lightning shot down your spine. Heavy pants escaped your body, chest heaving, as he kissed higher and ran his tongue along the inside of your thigh until he reached the apex of your trembling limbs.
“Peter.. Ngaah- wai-!”
Without warning, Peter latched onto your swollen clit and pulled it between his lips.
You arched off the sweat slicked couch and shoved your hands deep into his ruffled, untidy hair. You cried out and yanked his hair each time you felt him wrap his powerful tongue around your clit. The pleasure he built inside you was intoxicating and frankly, dangerous. You felt as if you might burst into heavenly fire.
Peter looked up at you through heavy lidded eyes. He gently removed your leg from his shoulder and slid up your body once more. He trailed kisses up your stomach and pinched a hard nipple between his fingers. You quietly moaned, silently hoping this would never stop.
Breathing heavily and licking his lips, Peter settled himself on top of you. He kissed your bare shoulder and ran his teeth up your throat as he did prior. He pressed a soft kiss behind your ear.
"Princess..." he whispered. You could feel hot breath caressing your neck.
You squirmed beneath him, reveling at the feel of his hardness pressed against your center. You felt his dick twitch when it came in contact with the slick dripping from your core.
"Babe..." soft moaning graced your ears. He tugged on your earlobe with his teeth.
He reached between your thighs. You bucked against his hand as you felt him slide his long finger inside you.
"C'mon," Peter begged, pleading for your sweet noises.
He slid in a second finger. You arched your back and moaned when his fingers began teasing the spot that would send you over the edge. He used his thumb to push down on your clit, vibrating it delicately. You closed your eyes as you threw your head against the rough couch, Peter wrapping his hot mouth around your swollen breast.
“..-up” You furrowed your brows at his inaudible whispers, mumbled against your supple skin.
“Wake up..” heh?
"C’mon. Wake up!"
Your eyes snapped open, alarmed and chest heaving. Your body was flushed, covered in sweat. Hair was plastered to the back of your neck and your hands were fisted in your lap. Sitting up onto your elbows, you look around the room with wide and confused eyes.
"Nice dream, princess?" Peter asked, cheeks flushed, yet smirking knowingly.
Oh. OH.
—--------------
Sharing a room with you was normal. It was. Peter knew that. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a thing that platonic friends would partake in, especially comfying up on the couch together, but whats the harm in it?
So okay, it wasn’t normal by definition. But he wasn’t going to make it weird . Just because he had a small crush on you did not mean that he would let it be weird. You were colleagues, Xmen, and you even spent time together outside of work too! Peter would come to your room to watch old movies, and you would go to his so you could cook and listen to music with him. So he knew he could spend time with you alone, that wasn’t the problem.
It was the sleeping that was potentially the issue.
His little crush had been invading his subconscious almost constantly nowadays, and peter was notoriously known to talk in his sleep. He was so scared he would say something wrong whilst snorin’ away next to you. If you overheard something like that, he knew your friendship would never recover. How can you act normal around someone who said your name in their sleep?
Good thing you did it before him then.
Peter was just doing his own thing, flicking through channels on the 70’s style television on low volume so as to not wake you. Dynasty, Seinfeld, Star Trek… not tonight.
He yelped quietly as Return of The Jedi appears on the screen, changing the channel in quick succession. You had yet to watch the film with him, and Peter didn’t want to ruin it for you by watching it beforehand.
He sighed, shoving the remote down the side of the sofa, nothing seeming to catch his attention.
Nothing, before you let out a low whimper and shuffle back into the heat of his chest.
“Babe?” Peter called quietly into the dark.
You were sleeping soundly, the muted reflection of light streaming in from the TV casting thin slivers of white across your face.
Peter rarely had the opportunity to watch you as you slept, normally being out like a light long before you and not waking up until hours into the afternoon, so he took a moment to indulge himself.
Your hair was an utter mess, with it falling into your forehead and sticking out from where it was smooshed against the pillow. Your lips were slightly parted and dry, and Peter shivered as he finally attuned himself to the soft whisper of your breath hitting his shoulder.
You were beautiful, and his heart clenched with adoration for you. This wasn’t at all what he had expected when he began his job with the Xmen, but he was not complaining in the slightest. Free food, permitted to use Charles’ credit card whenever he pleases, and a smokin’ hot, funny girl cuddling up to him every night; what's not to like?
On second thought, scratch the former two benefits. Peter was quickly banned from using Charles’ card, ever since he took advantage and bought enough cake snacks to put Hostess out of stock for three weeks. He had the best four hours of his life that night.
Peter sighed contentedly, and unthinkingly reached back to brush a few strands of hair from your forehead. Your hair was so soft and smooth and he wanted to run his fingers through it, but even the gentlest touch of him moving your hair from your face had stirred you.
Peter reluctantly curled up on his side with his stomach facing your own, in an attempt to bury his desire to keep touching you. You snuffled out a breath and shifted around, and Peter held his breath, hoping you would fall back to sleep. He was pleasantly surprised when you continued shuffling until your sleep-heated body came into contact, flush with his.
You exhaled deeply and nestled your face into Peter’s neck as his arm came up to drape across your hip. He smiled into his own pillow, pleased with this development, and he relaxed back into your embrace…
…And then nearly rolled out of it again when your pelvis brushed something between his hips. Holy fuck!
Peter immediately thrust his hips forward and away from your jutting, not wanting to take advantage of you in your sleep-induced state, but you grunted in dissatisfaction and thrust your hips closer to him until the burning heat through your shorts was trapped right against Peter’s length again.
As if just feeling that you were horny and dreaming about somethin’ naughty wasn’t enough, you then began to rock your hips into his. Fuckin’ hell!
“-agh-.. princess?” Peter whispered, panic-stricken, feeling his cheeks flame in a combination of embarrassment and excitement. He groaned as his dick twitched in interest in an attempt to reach your alluring heat.
You let out a soft sigh, and the rocking of your hips slowed. Peter wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed, however he ultimately decided it was for the best; he’d rather you to be conscious if you were about to make a massive jump in your platonic relationship to physical.
Despite the already raging boner that was growing and painfully restricted by the confines of his stormtrooper pajamas, Peter let his eyes slip closed, content to cradle you in his arms and go back to sleep. However the solid pressure of your heat on his thigh kept the speedster wide awake.
Then you began moving again.
You pressed your pelvis forward, rubbing your clothed core onto the muscled thigh of Peter’s mid-thigh. Then, you let out a shuddering moan that made all of his wild fantasies about the way you sounded seem entirely tame in comparison.
Your hips were no longer rocking, but they were actively grinding and stuttering against him. Peter could feel the exact shape of your pussy through the scant layers of fabric separating you from him.
Your hand moved to curl around his bicep, firmly anchoring yourself to your best friend. You were breathing raggedly and the motion of your hips was getting faster and deeper, more sensual than ever.
Peter’s own noises failed to be kept silent, as he whimpered in response and rested his forehead into your hair as you frantically humped his thigh.
Jesus fuck, how were you still asleep? And what were you dreaming about that got you this riled up?
Even if he wanted to move, Peter was effectively trapped between your weight and the back of the couch, your motions making the old thing squeak and groan in answer.
Warm, wet heat throbbed between your legs, and Peter desperately wanted to flip you onto your back, rip off your tiny shorts, and fuck you until you both passed out from exhaustion.
You were making the most devastating noises as you rutted your heat against him harder and faster, whining in desire as you worked for your release.
Peter had half a mind to reach down and give you a hand, but he instead gripped on tight to the couch cushions, eyes wide and lips parted in astonishment.
Ohh, he shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be lying here, practically taking advantage of you whilst you rubbed yourself upon him. If you were awake you’d be mortified, ohh-, but you sound so good and feel so good and, really, it would be cruel to stop you. Especially when you were enjoying yourself sooo much…
Peter lay there for a few more moments, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to ignore the burning want in his rock hard cock.
Then, you moaned something that had him spluttering in surprise .
“Nghnaa- Peterr,” you whimpered.
Peter came instantly, covering a guttural moan with his hand.
Holy. Fuck.
You were dreaming about him? Your best bud since forever?
You whined in pleasure as you felt the surge of heat from Peter’s load. Frantically, you arch your hips into his again, once, twice, three more times, before you let out a wrenching moan and stilled behind him.
Peter shivered as he felt his cock throbbing against your core, and as he felt a wet warmth seep through your pajamas and onto his clothed thigh.
Holy-
Peter panted harshly for a few moments as he stayed tightly pressed against you, large hands coming to grip on your arms. Him, really? Of all people you decided to get off to, you chose him! Frankly, he was flattered; and clearly so was his dick.
The fuckin’ thing seemed to have a mind of its own! The sticky, burning mess that had erupted in his Pj’s made him grimace uncomfortably, knowing it would soon dry into a crusty disaster. But the thing seemed to get hard and stay hard whenever he was around you. How embarrassin’!
A glance towards the clock; 12:43. Peter hummed, turning back towards you and lightly squeezing your arm. As you stirred he put on a lazy smirk, hoping the flaming blush in his cheeks had subsided enough by now.
As your eyes snapped open, disoriented, Peter propped himself up on his elbow and wiggled his eyebrows.
"Nice dream, princess?"
Ooh, he is gonna ruin you.
—-----------------------------
Trying to collect yourself after being awoken, your eyes landed on your best friend, inches away from your own face and wiggling his brows. For mere moments you were puzzled, wondering why his cheeks had more of a reddish tone than normal, then you came to a conclusion.
Oh fuck.
You nearly jumped out of your skin as you realized what you had done, placing a hand over your chest and taking a deep, panicked breath. It took a few pounding heartbeats to get the courage to look at Peter. You prayed your demeanor wouldn't give anything away.
"H-Huh?" You replied, braving a glance at him. Oh wow, real smooth.
"I asked, 'nice dream’?" Peter repeated, nonchalantly. His fingers tickled down your arm, only aiding in the nervous sweat that dripped down from your hairline.
"What makes you think that?" You stuttered.
"Well, yer were talkin’ quite a bit, babe. There was a moan a’ two thrown in there. Oh! And a 'Don't stop, Peter!' happened, too." He winked. “I must’ve given you a hella good time, princess.”
Ok sure, maybe he was exaggerating a little. But he reallyyy wanted to know exactly what happened in your dream..
Your cheeks flamed beyond recognition. You were fucked. Or rather, about to be.
"Hmm..." He looked at you with a piercing stare as a dimpled, wry grin split across his face. Before you could react, Peter laughed.
"Oi, shut up!" you giggled, slightly relieved at the humor that came out of this.
Your giggles came to an abrupt stop, however, as Peter shuffled impossible closer to you, his lengthy erection threatening to tear his pajamas. You fought with the Gods themselves not to look down, knowing the tent in the material would expose something you have thought of everytime you’d touch yourself.
A grumble erupted from Peter’s throat, his cocky facade crumbling away with every involuntary rut of your hips.
"How ‘bout yer show me what happened in yer dream?" he suggested, hand snaking around the small of your back as Peter sat up, pulling you into his lap.
You squeaked, nibbling your lip nervously. Peter pressed himself flush to you, his cock pressing against your pelvis angrily. A familiar aching tingle took up residence low in your belly, and you huffed out a shaky sigh as you pressed the ache closer to him.
“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips as he said it, albeit very shakily. Before you could even nod, his lips pressed to yours.
You instantly relaxed into his lap. Peter’s lips were soft and urgent, catching your bottom lip between them.
Your hands pulled him closer by the neck, and he let his hands mold against your waist, urging you closer. Your hands roamed into his hair, pushing it off his forehead and carding your fingers smoothly through it, causing him to let out a muffled moan into your mouth. You hummed.
Experimenting, you clumsily tugged at his silvery strands with fevor. With a whimper that had your walls clenching around air, Peter’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he let his hands drop to your ass.
He squeezed and pulled you down onto him, letting his lips find your neck. You let out a loud groan as he sucked a mark into your pulse point, but you pushed him away with both hands on his cheeks.
“Not above the collar,” You reminded meekly. He smirked at the idea of everyone on the team knowing what you had done. And everyone knowing that someone like you wanted to do this with someone like him. Take that, Scotty.
“But.. what if I want people to know yer mine?” Peter asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lobe as he said so, nibbling it carefully. You grinned.
“I think you’ve got this whole thing wrong then.”
“Hm?” You smiled as you felt Peter’s brows furrow against the side of your head.
“You belong to me.”
He whimpered. Your eyes lit up, and you simply smirked at him.
“Good boy.” You whispered, and pressed down hard with your hips, rolling them once.
Peter came in his pants. Again.
With a loud groan and a thrust upward, he shot into his pajamas. You chuckled through flushed cheeks as he shuddered through his orgasm, and leaned down to kiss him. As soon as he came down from the high, embarrassment overtook him.
He had a chance with his dream girl, and he literally blew it not five minutes in. Literally and figuratively. And all because you called him a Good boy?
Peter brought his hands up to cover his face, but you caught his wrists before he could reach. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, breathing heavily, not ready for the ridicule that was sure to follow.
“Awh, did I make you cum?” You rolled your hips a few times, and he hissed at the oversensitivity. “That’s so fuckin’ hot.”
“Yer- W-What?” Peter asked, turning back towards you slowly. You were beaming at him.
“The cutest boy, all worked up, jus’ for me.” You arched your back so your clothed tits were shoved closer to the poor boy’s face, yunno, just for good measure.
He blushed again, and swallowed as he grinned back at you. “But what ‘bout yer?”
“What about me?” You asked. Peter’s hands danced along your sides, cupping your breasts and teasing your nipples through your shirt.
“Wanna make yer feel good.” He whispered while you gasped.
“What’s stopping you?” You asked with a whisper. Peter surged upwards and began kissing you again, only stopping to finally rip your shirt off and get his hands on your bare breasts.
Peter’s tongue flicked against your own as you moaned against his lips, the feeling of him kneading your tits too much to bare.
“You’re so fuckin’ hot. Such a good, good boy.” You praised, stroking his hair.
He whines, playing with the hem of your shorts and his hips rut, seeking for friction. You take the hint, shimmying your pajamas down off your legs whilst helping Peter with his own.
You salivate at the sight of his lengthy cock, slapping up to hit his abs and glistening from the pearly white release running down it. Thick veins traveled upwards, buzzing from the speedster gene and throbbing with anticipation. His angry red tip leaked, twitching and begging for your warmth.
You use a hand to grip the base of your best friend's cock, his fluid running over your knuckles and providing you with a natural lube. Peter hissed with gritted teeth, watching as you slowly jerked him off with a tight embrace, circling the tip of his dick with your other hand.
“He-hey! Too much!” Peter yelped, bucking his hips up despite his protests.
You complied, stopping your actions briefly before sitting up, aligning your dripping wet entrance with his tip.
Schweeeett.
You laid a hesitant hand over his chest, and gooseflesh sizzled across his skin, sending another bolt of heat to his already overheated cock. He bit his lip to keep himself grounded and to keep from dropping his hand to his pants and rubbing himself to relive the pressure.
He felt so shaky and on edge and so, so horny.
Your lips pressed lightly against his, and while Peter’s brain seemed to short out, his body and his hormones knew exactly what to do and took over. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, anchoring you to him as he flipped over so he was laying on top of you.
You made a breathy little noise, and Peter’s brain finally started up again.
“This okay?” he panted between the gentle little kisses he was peppering across her jaw.
“Almost,” you teased.
Before he could ask what you meant, you looped your leg around his Peter’s and tugged so that he was fully nestled in the cradle of your thighs. He groaned as he felt his aching erection settled against your heat.
He could feel the heat radiating out from your center, and Peter grew impossibly harder.
“Princess” he whimpered, rutting restlessly against you. “Please… fuck, yer feel so good…”
You arched up into him, grinding yourself equally as wantonly against him.
“So do you,” you hissed, tightening your hold around his hips for more leverage.
Your hands wandered aimlessly, but Peter was too lost in the feel of you beneath him, so soft and warm and beautiful. The pressure in his abdomen deepened until it almost hurt.
“I need… I want… Please, babe.. I’m gonna…”
He was well aware he was babbling, but his brain was a little more occupied by the delicious friction his cock was getting against your hot and damp center.
Peter tucked his face into your neck as he focused on the pleasure burning through him, soaring higher and higher until he could barely take it anymore.
You arched up hard against him as your fingers raked through his hair once more, and he was lost.
Deciding he had enough, Peter aligned himself with your entrance and slammed into your wet cunt with one thrust, eliciting a moan from you that threatened the coil in his lower stomach to snap already.
He kissed you once more, this time taking control as his tongue glided across your lips passionately, far from the blubbering mess you made him previously. The taste of caramel and sugar invaded your mouth, trickling down your throat with the same side effect as an aphrodisiac.
With every kiss Peter sped up his frantic motions, rendering you brainless on his dick as you could only focus on the slapping of skin and wet noises of your soaking pussy.
You were about to open your mouth to tell him to hurry up when Peter’s fingers reach between your folds, circling your clit with a steady pace. A loud, shuddering moan echoes around the room.
You don't even realize the noise came from yourself until you feel Peter’s shoulders move against your own because due to his cocky laughs. Airhead.
He was going so fast you couldn’t tell whether he was thrusting in or out, you could only feel an overwhelming pleasure consuming your mind and body.
Just when you thought you were on the brink of feeling the epitome of heaven itself, a buzzing vibration echoed deep within your walls, sending you into a frenzy.
You writhed and clawed at Peter’s back, a wordless plea for him to continue. Faster, Faster. Please.
He mumbled incoherently, which would’ve made you chuckle if you had the ability to do so, as his hips stuttered against your own, hitting a spot that had you clenching his buzzing cock like a vice.
With the remaining piece of consciousness you had left, you reached up to yank on Peter’s hair, forcing his head back as the building pleasure inside you exploded.
Peter let out a wordless cry as the hot coil of tension in his belly snapped, and white hot pleasure took its place.
He was dimly aware that you let out the most beautiful, sexy noise he’d ever heard as you tightened your hold around him, but he was more preoccupied by his cock filling you to the brim of cum that splattered your pulsing walls.
His skin prickled pleasantly, his ears ringing and his vision blurred, and he felt completely weightless. His vision darkened and he held you tight and panted his release into your neck.
“Shiiit,” he gasped, lifting his hips away from you as his cock softened and became too sensitive to be touched.
His arm muscles shook as he hoisted himself away from you, and collapsed onto the couch beside you.
Staring up at the ceiling, Peter let an exhausted grin cross his face as a few aftershocks rolled through him. Gaze shifted, He admired you as you came down from your high, moving to the bathroom to wash your hands and get a rag to clean yourselves up.
When you came back you went to wipe you down, but Peter took the rag from you.
“Sit. I get to take care of yer now. I owe it to yer, babe.” Concentrated, he wiped your dripping cunt with the rag, then making his way to the bathroom to get rid of the dirty towel.
When he came back you were still sitting on the edge of the bed. You smiled meekly up at him and reached out a hand, which Peter eagerly took, gladly letting you pull him in for a hug, with him standing between your knees.
“I really like you, you know.” You said, head resting on Peter’s chest as he stared down at you.
“I know. I really like yer too, babe.”
In answer, you shifted slightly and tilted your head up to face Peter’s flushed cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your nose. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, and you felt his smile as he pulled away. You could feel his breath as he moved to the side of your face, and placed a kiss on what you were sure was a very rosy apple of your cheek.
As you settled down together for the remaining hours of the night, the tense air between you and Peter had diminished, morphing into one of that had you giddy and excited.
You needed to bring out the movie nights more often.
~~~~
When morning rose and you walked into the briefing room the next morning, you were wearing a scarf, despite the hot Westchester heat. You hadn’t quite caught Peter in time, and he had in fact left a mark.
Of course the whole team noticed.
“Hey, twinkle toes, did you guys have another movie night?” Scott asked from his seat at the back of the room. Luckily Peter was facing away from him, so Scott didn’t see how his immediate reaction was to blanche at the memories from the night before. He gathered himself quickly.
“Yer, of course, what’s it to yer?” Peter asked shortly as he turned around, stirring a coffee with six sugars mixed into it.
Scott’s attention was on you, as you were talking to Kurt on the other side of the room.
“That scarf is only there to hide something, I think our lovely lady might’ve got some last night.” Scott said with a smug smirk. “Don’t let it break your heart, you still have a chance!” He turned to Peter and clapped him on the shoulder, who was blushing intensely at the tease. You had, in fact, ‘got some’, and he was the some you got with.
Scott soon noticed Peter was off, as normally he would be granted with some teasing retort or slap against the back of the head.
“C’mon, I’m just teasing. She probably didn’t get a chance to-” While he was talking, Peter caught your eye from across the room.
You smirked at him and waved, and he smiled and waved back.
Scott cut himself off when he saw Peter’s wave, turning to see just as your face turned back to Kurt. “Oh my god. You crazy man, you actually did it!” Scott exclaimed, shaking Peter by the shoulders. Peter pursed his lips to try and contain his smile as he nodded. “My man!” Scott exclaimed, pulling him into an awkward hug.
Peter caught your eye again over Scott’s shoulder, and the smile you gave him made him smile right back.
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1d1195 · 1 month
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Ding - Round 1
I had this little idea. The meeting came to me in a dream, no word of lie. Classic little trope, I know. I'm hoping to work in some smuttier things down the line. Hope I do it justice and you like it 💕 Erring on the side of caution; probably not suitable for Ramadan
You'll be able to read the rest here eventually: Ding
~3.8k words
As she did the wind took her door not much, nor hard but enough to bump into the car beside her.
The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes, still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.
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It was cold and rainy all day long. It made her want to curl up in a ball with a good book on her sofa and not get up for hours and hours. The kind of day where she wished she wasn’t an adult, and she was back home. Back when her dad would make her hot chocolate, they would watch old movies, and he would give insider information into all the hubbub that happened behind the scenes. How the actors interacted and when the props failed or something of that nature.
Her father was a great film critic. But he always said “even ‘bad’ movies have good.” She had seen tons of movies. Summers during school were filled with at least one movie a night. Sick days were made for marathoning series. When they weren’t watching movies, he was taking her to baseball games, teaching her how to cook—“the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, honey”—and making sure that she knew how to be spoiled by any man that deigned to enter her life. She was handy around the house and fiercely independent.
As much as she enjoyed cooking with her dad, baking was her real passion. She loved the science of baking: how butter affected cookies, temperature changed the consistency of cakes, and nothing made her happier than playing with baking powder and baking soda to change the rise of her pastries.
It led her to this spot. This little bakery. School for business and plenty of classes on cooking and baking. At the age of twenty-seven she was extremely lucky; for the last three years her business had been so successful. It was in local and state magazines about a hot spot for tourists and one of those shops that everyone just loved.
She wished her dad could see it but knew he would be proud of her regardless.
A strong gust of wind pulled her from her thoughts. There was a late-night closing report she needed to go over—a favor to her regular closer who needed to get home to her little baby. But really, A Pinch of Sprinkles was her baby and she loved to be in the little shop that smelled like the cupcakes she loved making.
She zipped her coat up, pulling her hood over her hair. It was hardly any further than a 40-yard dash to her little bakery door but in a steady rain like this, she thought not even her rubber boots would be enough to keep her dry for the short little sprint she would have in just a moment. She thought of her dad again, who would have run around to her door and held an umbrella over her head before getting out in the rain. With a deep, sad sigh, she braced herself, opened her door and reached for her umbrella and purse on the passenger seat.
As she did the wind took her door. It wasn't much, nor hard to create real havoc, but enough to bump into the car beside her. “Fuck,” she hissed getting out quickly, her belongings be damned her hair getting wet and stringy almost immediately. She slammed her door shut, turned to the car beside her, and made eye contact with the person in the driver’s seat. Her lips parted slightly, heart hammering in her chest. There was hardly anything more than a bit of a ding on the the stranger's car but the unmoving gaze that returned from the front seat intimidated her immensely.
The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.
It felt like thunder was inside her chest, the way her heart was thudding against her ribs. An intimidating man, his hair not quite buzzed off but not quite much more than an inch or two long, deep, soulful eyes. His gaze didn’t drop from hers. It was like he was having a staring contest.
“I... am... so sorry,” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to admit she was terrified. It wasn’t that she was terrified of men. But in a dark parking lot and someone who looked so intimidating... well it was a modern-day-female nightmare.
The man smiled and suddenly he was no longer intimidating. Dare she say, he was even cute. The left half of his mouth quirked up and he glanced down at his hands on the steering wheel, tapped a quick rhythm on it, and turned back to her. “S’okay,” he shrugged, rolling the window back up. He stepped out into the rain in the same motion, rain not bothering him as it began to soak his hair and slid down his face. The man was gorgeous. A walking ad for raincoats and umbrellas. He meandered over to where she stood. Her heart still pounded now for an entirely new reason. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reached for the blemish on his car. “See, jus’ a ding,” he rubbed his fingers over the little indent a few times before turning back to meet her gaze again.
His grin was adorable.
The air came out of her in a whoosh loud enough to rival the one that took her door right into his car. “I’ll pay for it to be fixed,” she promised.
He chuckled. “S’fine, love,” he assured her. “S’jus’ a ding,” he repeated with a shrug.
By now she was drenched. It wasn’t a downpouring, but the steadiness of the raindrops won out. Without any regard to how she was stood still between the two cars—soaking the inside of her seat as well—he leaned in, grabbed her purse, umbrella and closed the door behind him. Honestly, it didn’t even cross her mind that he was going to rob her. That alone should have raised about ten alarm bells in her head. Instead, for whatever reason, she felt safe.
He handed her own bag to her. It felt so strange. Like she didn’t know what to do with it. He paid no mind to her uneasiness. Without any acknowledgment of their weird meeting and their even weirder interaction thus far, he opened the umbrella and held it over the pair of them to keep a little dryer—even though they were both already soaked.
“Let’s go,” he put a hand on her lower back to usher her out from between the cars.
Reality and her brain finally restarted in her head. “Excuse me? Go where?”
He shrugged. “Well... y’did ding m’car. Assumed y’could at least come with me.”
“Come with you where?” She repeated incredulously.
“Oh right, sorry. D’you have plans? A date?”
“Well...no...”
“Great,” he tiled his head in gesture toward their current path, the opposite direction of her bakery.
“Can you tell me where it is you want me to go?” But she was already following the gentle touch on her back to keep her moving in his current direction. She should have felt unsafe. This was unnatural. How could she not be scared?
He pointed at the municipal building—it was old and pretty. Pretty typical for a little tourist area. Lights caught the raindrops that fell to the ground that hung from ancient looking black iron sconces. Steps up to the main doors were cobblestone and probably brand new as they were replaced over the years. Back in the day it was probably home to many rousing mini-city debates. It was hard to imagine back then it would ever become the bustling little tourist center it was at present. “Y’ever been in?” He asked.
She shook her head. It was like he was a truth serum wrapped in a hot body. There was nothing to explain her reasoning to answering him. “Not since I was little. My dad took me to a magic show here.”
“Well, s’not quite as magical, but s’a fight tonight.”
“A fight?”
“Boxing.”
“Boxing?” She repeated.
“M’not trying t’be rude, are y’hard of hearing?”
“What? No,” she shook her head, confusion coloring her features. “Why?”
“Y’keep repeating everything I say,” his ever-present half-smile was mocking her.
She scowled at him, shook her head again, and halted them in the middle of the rainy sidewalk. “Please stop walking. I’m so confused,” she put her hands on her temples. Why was she even following him? She didn’t need to be with him right now. She could have walked the other direction just as easily and told him to take a hike.
“Mmm... I’d rather not, I’ve got t’get ready,” he explained inching further along the path with the umbrella in his hand still. “M’on the first card.”
“Let’s try this again,” she stood her ground. Deciding now that if he were a serial killer, it would be too late but at least she could have the satisfaction of trying. “I don’t know your name and contrary to my current actions I'm actually very wary of strangers. But I own the bakery right over there in the main square. I was going to run the closing report. I’ll wait there until your fight is over,” she suggested--where she at least had security cameras set up and would have proof of a stranger murdering her with a baking sheet. “You can come get my insurance info then,” she spun quickly away from him, and started back toward the direction of the bakery; he could keep the umbrella.
“Your bakery?” He asked, following her a few paces back.
“Yes. A Pinch of Sprinkles. It’s right over there,” she gestured to the main bustling little square.
“You own the bakery: A Pinch of Sprinkles?”
“Are you hard of hearing?”
He snorted at her and smirked once more. “Alright,” he sighed holding his hands up in surrender. “M’Harry. M’in a boxing match tonight. M’normally in there by now getting ready. But this really pretty girl dinged m’car,” his smile was so boyish for someone who scared the lights out of her only minutes before. “And y’did kind of promise t’come with me as payment,” he looked at her knowingly.
“I did not promise that,” her tone was defensive. “I said I would pay for the dent to be fixed.”
“I know y’did. S’very nice of you. S’not what I want. This is how I want you t’pay me.”
“By coming to watch your fight?”
He nodded eagerly. But she saw his eyes scanning her. He was still holding her umbrella while she continued to get soaked. Her dad would have a conniption at the sight of a stranger holding her umbrella and not keeping her dry. But it didn’t bother her. If anything, she kind of liked it if only because it gave her a chance to look at how adorable he was holding her flowery umbrella when she knew the embodiment of intimidation was going to punch someone at three-minute intervals.
Harry stepped closer, bringing her back under the umbrella. “Look... If y’really need t’go to your bakery, then no, of course m’not going t’stop you. But if it can wait, then s’how y’can repay me,” he shrugged. They were huddled close together under the umbrella. Her hair was a wet stringy mess. She knew very little about boxing. Muhammad Ali, Mike Tyson, Rocky and The Eye of the Tiger. That was about the extent of her knowledge. Boxing wasn’t one of the major sports her dad imparted his wisdom about to her.
“You want me to go to your fight as payment for your car dent?”
“Are y’going t’jus’ keep saying the same thing as me but as a question all night?” She knew she was repeating herself again. She pursed her lips to refrain from asking another question. “C’mon, Cupcake... m’really starting t’run late here,” he pointed to his wrist with an imaginary watch.
Cupcake.
What was she getting herself into?
She took a deep breath trying to calm the bit of nerves. “I’m not really a go with the flow kind of girl. I have a lot of questions.”
He smiled sweetly. Nodded like he expected such an answer, like he knew her already. “M’sure you do,” he agreed. “But... I really need t’go in. Like right now. Louis is going t’kill me if I don’t appear in front of him four minutes ago. When the fight’s over, I’ll walk y’to A Pinch of Sprinkles. We’ll run y’closing report and I’ll answer every question y’have.”
It took every bit of her self-restraint to keep her mouth from repeating him again. We. “There’s also the whole... I don’t know you at all, thing,” she reminded him stepping out from the umbrella again. “Seems like a bad idea on my part.”
It was almost moot though. Even she heard the way her voice sounded like she was caving as she said it. He stepped closer again. “You’re right. S’good instincts that I admire y’have,” he held his phone out to her, the screen catching a few drops of rain. “S’my niece,” he told her of the baby on the lit screen. She was only a few months old based on the picture. “She’s got me wrapped around m’finger and she’s barely old enough t’even see me and know m’holding her. Least that’s what m’sister Gemma says,” he shrugged. The adoration, the love in his voice made her stomach flip. It was unbelievably adorable this scary man was in love with a little baby. His voice was so sweet, it made her feel at ease. “I grew up with Mum and Gemma,” he looked her squarely in the eye. “I know m’about t’go in there and punch another grown man, but m’not dangerous. Especially not towards a girl who parked in a dark parking lot who owns a bakery with a sprinkles pun," her heart softened. “I know y’have questions, Cupcake. But I really need t’go in there,” he was growing the slightest bit impatient. “Louis is gonna send Niall out looking for me and then m’screwed. I need y’decision either way.”
It was perhaps her dumbest idea ever. Even stupider than when she tried to make peanut butter cookies without peanut butter to make them allergy friendly. “Are you going to win?” She asked.
He chuckled. “Think so. Especially if you’re there as m’good luck charm," he winked.
When she thought about this in the future or when she ended up on a true crime TV episode, it would be this moment that thousands and millions of people would say "how could she be so stupid?"
But she started for the building ahead of him, anyway. He fell into step beside her holding the umbrella over her again. “Probably not a good idea to put stock into me when I just dented your car.”
“S’jus’ a ding, Cupcake,” he smiled. “Something t’remember y’by.”
She couldn’t believe how quick and flirtatious he was. He knew all the right things to say and wasn’t even the least bit nervous it seemed. When he went into the ring or something she would have to Google his name and see if she accidentally made a fool of herself talking to a professional boxer. “You’re something else.”
They entered the building from a back door guarded by a man who gave Harry a nod as he ushered the sweet girl inside. “You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?” A blonde man with an Irish accent asked, running his hand through his hair right as the guard at the door pulled the door shut from the outside. “I was just about to go see what happened this time,” he started back down the hall, deeper into the building. “He’s losing his mind,” he warned.
Harry shrugged. “Met a girl,” he smiled back at her. “She owns the bakery. She’s gonna be my good luck charm”
“Oh, you’re the reason for my freshman fifteen,” the blond man wiggled his eyebrows at her as he turned to her as well.
“Cupcake, this is Niall, he’ll keep an eye on you,” he assured her.
“Cupcake, hmm?” Niall chuckled. “Louis’ gonna kill you,” he skipped ahead of Harry. “Found him!”
“Harold you better have been held at gunpoint!” The shout was nearly hysterical as they approached the open room.
“He was just talking to Cupcake,” Niall was nearly giggling. Louis, she presumed, wasn’t the least bit amused. His face was hard. His blue eyes cold, his jaw as sharp as his words.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he snapped. “Get your fucking clothes on,” he ordered.
Harry rolled his eyes and winked in her direction. “Hold this for me?” He asked, handing her his phone. The picture of the little babe illuminated the screen and a message from Mum was previewed on the screen so she couldn’t help but read, “Good luck honey bunny!” With about ten four-leaf clover emojis and just as many hearts. It warmed her heart so much to see the message on this scary man’s phone. She had doubts now that he was going to murder her later. A murderer wouldn’t have a supportive mom like that, right? Or a picture of their niece as their phone background? “See y’in a bit, Cupcake,” he gave her arm a squeeze and leaned her umbrella beside the door leading into the next room.
Niall was sipping a beer from a clear cup. “Y’ready, Cupcake?”
She snorted, sticking his phone into her purse alongside hers and nodded. “Sure. M’gonna have a lot of questions.”
He laughed. “Well, I have a lot of questions for you,” he promised pushing a set of double doors and into a thrumming, crowded arena.
It was definitely not a magic show.
Blinking, Niall put a gentle hand on her back and leaned toward her ear so she could hear better. “How do you know Harry?”
“I don’t,” she shouted back to be heard over the crowd. There were people getting things set up, announcements being made, and the like. There were people cheering and she couldn’t believe how big the boxing ring looked. The only boxing ring she had ever seen was the one in Rocky. Moreover, the only thing she knew about that ring was that the audience in the movie was given a free chicken dinner for showing up to the arena and they dimmed the lights, so it looked like more people were there. “My car door hit his car.”
“You hit Clay?”
“Who’s Clay?”
“His car!”
“He named his car, Clay?”
“Like Cassius Clay?”
Again, she didn’t know much about boxing, but she realized immediately that Harry named his car after the greatest heavyweight boxer ever. Oh, Lord. What did you get yourself into? She thought to herself. “Er… yeah… I guess so.”
“And he didn’t...” Niall drifted off curiously. “Hmm,” it seemed he surmised something in his head but didn’t let her in on the secret. He gestured to a chair that was front and center of the corner of the ring for her to sit. He took the seat beside her and leaned close as she spoke to him again. “How do you know Harry?”
“We’ve been best friends since Uni,” he shrugged. “Been icing his bruises for years.”
She nodded. “I see. Are you recently graduated? You said freshmen fifteen?”
Niall laughed. It was contagious. Made her feel safe still. The whole last ten minutes were surreal. She really followed a stranger to a boxing match. She was sitting with his best friend asking questions about someone she hardly knew. “Just a joke, Cupcake. You are single handedly responsible for my recent weight gain since you moved into town. Well, you and that Irish soda bread you made last March. It tasted like home.”
“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I was so nervous about it!”
Talking about sweet treats and breads and cupcakes was more her speed. “Oh, it was perfect, Cupcake. Rivaled my nan’s.”
Well, maybe Harry wasn’t so scary.
At least his friends were nice. Although... “Louis hates me, doesn’t he?” The thought of someone hating her, even though she didn't even know him made her sad.
Niall rolled his eyes. “No, he’s just so sick of Harry being late. Thinks because he’s undefeated on this circuit he can do whatever he wants.”
“Undefeated?” She was grateful Harry wasn’t there to hear her question repeating the same thing Niall said again.
“Not much of a boxer are you, Cupcake?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”
He chuckled. “Harry’s very good. You’ll see.” Clearly. What did he need a good luck charm if he was already undefeated. She really needed to research him.
As if he heard his own name, he dropped into the seat across from her. It would be inside the ring between rounds but for now it allowed him to gaze at the pretty girl he met moments before. “Hi Cupcake,” his smile was sugary—and she knew sugar.
“Hi,” she murmured, willing her eyes to stay focused on his face and not his bare torso. A litany of tattoos painted his skin and a pair of vines dipped into the band of the shorts he wore. Everything was black. His shorts, his tattoos, his shoes, and his gloves. She could see tape going up half the length of his forearm keeping the bottom of his gloves in place.
“That’s a record for you getting ready. Must be your good luck charm,” Niall nudged her with his elbow. “Didn’t I tell you those soda breads were delicious?”
Harry kept his eyes on her and nodded. “Y’did.”
“Told you,” Niall assured her.
“Wouldn’t shut up ‘bout them,” Harry was unmoving, his body, his gaze. His phone was in her purse. He was looking at her like she was pretty, and she knew her makeup and hair was ruined by the rain. “M’a bigger fan of those raspberry filled cupcakes of yours,” he told her. “S’like heaven in a cupcake.”
“Harry, I swear to God!” Louis shouted.
Harry smiled ruefully, winked at her again and finally moved, heading back toward the sound of Louis’ voice. “Niall, don’t let her leave, yeah?”
Niall saluted him and she watched him leave again. She cleared her throat, turning in her seat toward the door, she exited to get to her ring-side seat. “Good luck, Harry,” she called, unsure if he would hear her over the building crowd.
Harry turned back right as he got to the door and winked again. “Thanks Cupcake,” he called back loud enough for everyone to hear that he was talking to her. Niall chuckled, shook his head, and put a friendly arm across the back of her chair.
He was kind enough to lean to her ear so that others wouldn’t hear the next thing he said because it made her blush and nearly melt to the floor right in front of Harry’s best friend and the very ring, he would be punching another grown man in just a few minutes. “Hope you like your boyfriends like your frosting, Cupcake. Because that man is already whipped for you.”
--
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She's Totally Flirting With You
Summary- Jack gets hit on by a waitress, though he thinks she's just being nice, Paisley and Olive come to your defense to convince Jack she's flirting with him.
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Jack had surprised you, Paisley, Olive, and Hayden with a family date, to a restaurant that the girls loved but was a little too fancy to take them to on a regular basis because even though they were pretty well-behaved, you didn’t want to accidentally become the family with misbehaving kids in a fancy restaurant.
You and Olive sat on one side of the booth, while Jack and Paisley sat on the other, Hayden sitting in a highchair on the side of the table. You could tell immediately that the waitress was flirting with Jack. 
“What can I get you to drink?” She asked Jack first, placing her hand on his shoulder. Jack placed his drink order before she turned her attention to the girls. “And what do you two princesses want?” 
“Daddy, can I get an orange soda?” Paisley asked, Jack nodded.
“Yeah, do you want the same thing Liv?” Jack asked.
“I want strawberry lemonade, please.” Olive said.
“And can we get water for both of them too?” Jack asked and she nodded. She took your drink order before turning her attention back to Jack.
“Anything else I can get you?”
“Can we go ahead and get a side of fries for the kids and let’s go ahead and get a second orange soda, she’ll want it as soon as she sees her sister have it,” Jack said and the waitress laughed.
“Of course, that’s so sweet that you’re thinking ahead,” She said, squeezing his shoulder. “I’ll be right back with all of that,” She let her hand linger on his shoulder as she walked away. The girls already going back to coloring.
“She’s totally flirting with you,” You said, and Jack laughed softly.
“No, she’s not, she’s just being nice.” Jack said, shrugging it off.
“If you want to call that just being nice, then okay,” You said sarcastically.
“She probably just knows who I am and doesn’t want to say something since I’m with family or something.”
She came back a few minutes later, placing all the drinks down, coming a minute later with the fries.
“I brought a couple extra plates, so they don’t have to share plates, I know I hated sharing when I was little, especially with my siblings,” She laughed softly. You and Jack split the fries between the girls, keeping a couple for Hayden, since he was eight months old you were letting him try different soft foods. “Neither of you look old enough to have three kids, are they all yours?” She asked, trying to make small talk.
“Yeah, they are all ours,” Jack answered, “We’ve been together for nine years, plenty of time to have a couple kids,” He joked.
“Do you guys know what you want to order?” She asked, her demeanor suddenly changing. You all placed your orders before she walked away again.
“Still going to tell me she’s not flirting with you?” You asked and Jack shrugged. “She literally has puppy dog eyes when she looks at you.”
“Well, maybe she’ll stop now that she knows we’re together.”
She came back a few minutes later to check on everything before checking on the table next to you.
“She needs to stop flirting with you Daddy.” Paisley said, loud enough for the waitress to hear. You smirked as you handed Hayden another fry.
“Do you even know what flirting is Paise?” Jack asked and she shook her head.
“No, but if Mommy doesn’t like it, then neither do I. You love Mommy not her,” She said.
“Well, you're right, I do love Mommy,” Jack said in agreement.
“She looks at you like Sadie does when you have food that she wants,” Olive said, taking a bite out of her fry. You and Jack couldn’t help but laugh at Olive’s comment.
“Where did you get that from?” You asked her.
“You say Sadie gives puppy dog eyes when Daddy has food, and you said that she’s giving Daddy puppy dog eyes,” Olive shrugged. Hayden started to get fussy in his highchair, so you took him out while you waited for your food.
“See, even the girls think she’s flirting.”
“Oh, they are just copying what they heard you say.”
“Maybe, but are you going to tell them she’s not and lie to them?” You teased and Jack fake gasped.
“Yeah Daddy, you can’t lie to us, that wouldn’t be nice,” Paisley said.
“Am I being ganged up on by my wife and daughters?” Jack said sarcastically.
“Maybe,” You smirked. “Even Hayden’s on my side, huh?” You asked Hayden and he giggled.
“Okay, okay, maybe I was wrong,” Jack said. “God, I’m screwed when they are teenagers, aren’t I?” 
“You’re the one who wanted eight daughters,” You teased.
Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree @harlowslefttoe @twerkforambrose @jackmans-poison @ilovenudy @taniapri @killatravtramp @easternparkway @macey234 @toocriticalharlow @lightsoutstyles @rachxc13 @iknowdatsrightbih @idktbh101 @blossomluvv @middlechild404 @hufflewhore128 @christinabae
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luckystorein22 · 1 year
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marlynnofmany · 1 year
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The Little Things
“It’s the unexpected stuff that gets me,” I said, swirling my drink. “Like, I’ll expect alien food on the alien spaceship, but the first time I heard offworld music, I thought the engine was about to fail.”
“Oh, I know, right?” agreed the other human, waving her own drink around. She hadn’t spilled it on the spaceport floor yet, but her ship had heavier gravity than this, and she was still adjusting. “And have you smelled what passes for perfume among the Mesmers? It’s like someone cut an onion and rubbed it in hot peppers.”
“Wow, I haven’t come across that yet,” I said with a glance back toward the spacedocks. “We’ve got two Mesmers onboard. Maybe they haven’t felt like getting fancy.” I tried to picture either of my exoskeletoned crewmates preparing for a high-class event, and my brain shorted out. Neither of them seemed the type. Zhee would stand by the punchbowl and complain about everything, while Trrili would hide behind curtains and jump out to startle people. Probably.
“It might be a courtship perfume,” the other human was saying. “Either that or it’s really expensive. I swear, if our navigator wore that on a regular basis, I’d have to invest in one of those high-quality personal air filters. It was bad.”
“Enough to make you miss the people who overdid the perfume back home?” I asked.
She set her drink down and leaned forward. “Enough to make me miss the body odor back home. And I don’t say that lightly!”
“I’ll bet!” I said with a toast of my own drink. It was cherry soda in a champagne glass. The Frillians running this restaurant were so proud of their Earth foods, and I didn’t have the heart to tell them that was anything other than a perfectly normal combination. And the fried-chicken-on-French-toast was actually good.
“It has been a while since I was home, though,” she said, picking at the remains of her macaroni and peas. “Earlier I saw somebody wearing a scarf like my mom’s, and now I keep thinking of all the things I miss. The tree outside my bedroom window, the cat purring, the sound of rain over an old TV show.”
I had a mild epiphany. “Well,” I said, finishing my drink. “I can’t help with all of that, but if you want to make a quick visit to my ship…” I leaned with a conspiratorial grin and whispered, “I’ve got kittens.”
Her gasp made people at three different tables look at us. “Oh my god, yes! Here, I’ll pay for your food. Where did you get kittens??”
“It’s a long story,” I said as she tapped at the payment interface. “I’ll tell you while they’re busy trying to fight your shoes.”
With a happy squeal that caused more than one wince from the aliens nearby, she swept our dishes into the recycler, then we were off to the spacedocks.
~~~
The ongoing backstory of the main character from this book. More to come!
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bluecollarmcandtf · 3 months
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Am I Acting Weird?
Part II
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I've been jogging on this treadmill for over an hour now. Cardio sucks, and I hate this old unventilated gym! When I joined the football team, I did it for the parties and cheerleaders! I just wanted to drink with the cool guys and get laid. I still do, but I haven't had a drop of alcohol in weeks. I can't even remember the last girl I hooked up with!
I used to think it was weird that I was suddenly working out all the time. It was like my entire personality had changed overnight.
I know it's not weird now. Max, my younger brother, told me so. I have to keep working out until I become the quarterback of the football team. Then I have to bulk up and train even more, so I can become a professional footballer. That's my new goal in life, and I can't wait for my little bro to be able to brag about being related to a pro athlete.
Sure, I never really wanted to play football professionally. If it were up to me, I'd be out drinking with my buds, but it's not up to me.
That's not weird right?
I shake my head and slow my aching legs. Droplets of sweat run down my face as I work to control my breathing. My whole body is sore from the conditioning. It doesn't help that this is my third workout of the day. Between my morning weight session, afternoon field practice, and this, I am totally whipped.
I stagger over to grab my workout gear. My night isn't over. I still have to bulk my stomach up for tomorrow.
With a frustrated sigh, I stomp out of the gym and march directly into the diner next door. I nod to the greasy cook behind the counter. I've become a regular here, so he knows me pretty well.
"The usual?" he grunts with a toothy grin.
I nod and sink into a booth.
Max, my little brother, got tired of me eating at the house. Apparently, it took our father too long to cook my bulking meals. Max has me eat here after my workouts, and I completely agree. Max shouldn't have to share our dad with me. He deserved to have someone at home cooking whenever he wanted to eat.
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"Four burgers, fries, and a soda," the cook snickers as he slaps the tray in front of me, "A growing boy needs extra protein."
I grimace and turn away from the chef. His breath alone is enough to make me lose my appetite, but I take a big bite and swallow. I won't gain mass if I'm not consuming mass, and I obviously need to get bigger.
I've broken out into a second sweat by the time I'm done. Forcing myself to up, I have to adjust to my bloated waist. You'd think I'd get used to a packed stomach, but I always feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night.
I let out a belch and carry the dirty dishes to the back. It always feels weird strolling into an employees-only area like this, but it's part of how I get my meals for free. You see, the cook let's is nice as long as I take care of two things.
The dishes are the first thing.
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"Leave the dishes," I hear his husky voice behind me, "I never wash 'em anyways."
I drop the dishes and turn the sink off, holding my gut as it growls in pain. My belly might ache, but I've got one more thing to do.
The cook watches me expectantly. He licks his chapped lips, and grabs at the bulge under his apron, between his two trunks of legs. He's already fishing the thing out. I know what he wants, so I drop to the floor. This has become just another part of my daily routine.
It's how I thank the chef.
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I don't know how this became a habit, because I absolutely do not enjoy it! The man is filthy, and a man! I'm not gay! I like women, but I have to eat a lot to bulk up and Max liked the idea of me eating for free. It's not weird!
I let him manhandle me a bit, gripping my head and pulling my hair. The cook gets off faster if he roughs me up a little. He usually only lasts a few minutes, but it's the longest few minutes of the day.
It's not sex. It's just a transaction!
"Oh, yeah!" he growls with his eyes squeezed shut, "Yeah, boy! Fuck!"
I whip my head off his hairy crotch and jump to my feet. I spit into a napkin and wipe my mouth quickly. I know from experience that I won't be able to get the taste of sweat and meat out of my mouth until I brush my teeth thoroughly at home.
My part is finally done here, so I just want to leave!
"Can't wait to see you tomorrow morning, jocky boy!" he laughs, but I've already stormed out, marching down the street to my house. I'm trying not to think about how I'll be seeing him in a few hours for breakfast.
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"Hey dad," I mumble, stepping inside.
"Boy," he answers dismissively, not even looking up from his work. As usual, he's wearing his home uniform: a suit and white gloves. I have a similar outfit for when I'm hanging around the house, but dad gets a lot more use out of his now that I'm constantly bulking up. Max is really the only one who seems to dress casually around here anymore.
I guess that makes him the weird one.
"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to start up a conversation.
"What's it look like, boy?" he answers gruffly, "I'm cleaning up after Max and his guests. Now, either get your uniform on and help or get out of my way."
His attitude makes me cringe a bit. Dad and I used to be really tight. We used to bond over sports and craft beer, but he doesn't really care about anything besides Max anymore.
I don't think he's gone to any of my games for the last few months. He's always cooking or cleaning for Max. I wish I understood. We used to tease Max all the time together, but now he gets angry anytime I try and bond with him. Like, it's totally normal and right for Max to be his new favorite, but I wish we could still chat every now and then.
"Sorry," I mutter.
My father ignores me and heads off to the kitchen in a rush. He looks erratic, and I can tell he's just as exhausted as I am. He's made it a habit of working extra hours at the office everyday. It's so he can bring home the biggest paycheck he can earn every week, but I know is affecting his sleep.
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"Where is Max?" I ask.
My dad frowns, tersely responding, "Max took his guests to a movie in my car. The house needs to be clean and snacks need to be ready for when Max gets back."
"Oh," I sigh, "Are his friends staying over again? I'd stay up with you and help serve them, but Max said I should be getting nine hours of sleep every night."
"Go to bed, boy. I'll handle it," he states firmly, putting the final touches on the silver platter.
With that, my father picks up the tray of assorted snacks and walks them out into the living room. There he takes his place by the door and stands in his usual position. It's where he normally waits to welcome Max home everyday. Father and I know that someone like Max shouldn't have to put their own coat away or take off their own shoes.
"Alright, dad, see you tomorrow."
He doesn't answer. He's already standing still as a statue and probably won't move until Max gets back. Hopefully, my little brother won't keep him up too late.
Sleep won't be hard for me to find. I can barely keep my eyes open, and I pass out as soon as I fall on my bed. The rest of the night is a deep and dreamless void, while my stomach processes all the food I ate.
When I wake up, I find dad like this...
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"Dad? Dad!" I give his shoulder a nudge.
He jumps to life, jerking his eyes around the trashed living room.
"Did you fall asleep standing up?"
"Maybe," he answers with shock, "Max had me holding everyone's coats while they enjoyed some beer. They must have moved to the bed while I drifted off."
"Aren't they a little young for beer?"
"Max and his guests are welcome to my alcohol whenever they want it!" he snaps back at me.
"Geez, ok."
"You have a workout you need to get to, boy," he barks, "And I'm going to have to hurry if I'm going to clean up this mess before work."
I stare at my father as he scrambles to clean up the living room once again. He looks even more exhausted and disheveled than last night. Hopefully, he would be able to clean everything up with enough time to shower and shave. I know that all of the household stuff is his responsibility, but sometimes it seems like too much.
With a shrug, I turn and step out of the door. My day is going to be the same miserable routine as the last. I'm not looking forward to any of it, but that's not weird. Like Max said, I'll just keep my head down, and power through.
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