#I did not appreciate him enough when I had him
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readwritealldayallnight · 2 days ago
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(part of the Wife at First Sight series)
When Ghost had asked if you would help him with something, you’d answered yes without a question. You didn’t ask for details, smiling and thanking him every time he opened each door that led to the base’s parking garage, giggling when he even insisted on opening the truck door for you. You’d come to grow fond of your work husband, appreciating how he never failed to make you feel special.
You sometimes wished his affections were genuine, rather than part of what you’d assumed was a strange hazing ritual in the military (which you couldn’t deny kind of worked, the two of you had grown closer hadn’t you? Was that the point of hazings?).
But you knew that line of thinking wouldn’t lead anywhere, other than potential heartbreak. He surely was only joking around, wouldn’t return your feelings. That’s why you played along with the ruse, but tried your best not to fall too hard for the man who was making that more and more impossible.
Still though, you couldn’t deny the pang in your heart when you discovered the errand he requested your help with, was to go look at engagement rings.
Did he actually have someone special in his life? Someone he hoped to propose to?
You felt guilty, thinking there might be another person out there that he loves enough to ask them to marry him, all the while you’re enjoying his attention at work, pretending he could ever actually want you as his wife.
You follow him into the shop, eyes widening at the never ending cases and displays of shiny, glittering jewelry, as far as the eye can see.
He chuckles at your expression, telling you not to worry your pretty little head over any price tags, just to pick out whichever one you liked.
You appreciated that he trusts your judgement so much that he wanted your opinion on which ring to buy his partner, and so you take your time looking through them all, even if it makes you sad to picture him slipping this ring onto another person’s finger.
Gaze scanning the displays, your eye is instantly caught by one ring and one ring only. You point to it, Ghost humming in agreement, signalling for one of the employees behind the counter to unlock the case.
The man pulls the ring out, handing it to the Lieutenant who examines it in between gloved fingers.
“Let’s see how it fits.” He murmurs, taking your left hand in his and slipping the band onto your ring finger, both of your eyes locked on the movement.
“Like a glove.” The employee says with a smile, moving to gather a selection of ring boxes he hopes to show you both, seeing that the ring has evidently found its owner and fits perfectly.
“It’s really beautiful Ghost.” You tell him, admiring the ring as he admires your expression. “Your wife’s a lucky woman.” You add, thinking of the mystery woman you’re convinced he’s buying this for, assuming you must have a similar ring size to her or something, if he’s having you try it on.
Your eyes meet his own warm gaze as his hand folds your fingers, bringing the ring up to his lips to press a kiss through the mask.
“Not as lucky as I am to be her husband.”
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navybrat817 · 3 days ago
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Double Shift
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Pairing: Chop Shop Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky helps you unwind after you work a double shift.
Word Count: Over 1.8k
Warnings: Established relationship, slight insecurities, bit of backstory, dirty talk, mild smut, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: @nixakimbo was kind enough to gift me with this GORGEOUS edit and I had to create a new AU. Sorry, lovelies? @tavners , this is for you. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You dropped your bag the moment you walked through the door. Your feet ached despite the comfortable shoes, and your head throbbed with each passing second. Groaning, you dragged yourself to the couch, collapsing into it like it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Working doubles was exhausting, but this? This was something else entirely.
It was a long day in a series of long days, but now you had a chance to relax.
Reaching for the nearby pillow, you inhaled deeply, a smile tugging at your lips. Instead of the usual fresh scent of your couch, you caught the familiar, warm fragrance of your boyfriend’s cologne. He must have spritzed it before leaving for work. It was like leaning into him and your shoulder relaxed more, even though you wished he were really there.
The sound of the door creaking open a few minutes later told you that your wish had been granted.
“Aww. Long day, baby?” Bucky cooed from the doorway, spotting you sprawled out with no intention of moving to greet him. “You know your bag’s on the ground?”
“Mm-hmm.” You rubbed your temples slowly. “You know I worked a double, right? I’m lucky I made it to the couch.”
His soft chuckle reached your ears as he set his keys down and picked up your bag. “I know and I’m sorry. You work really hard.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead once he reached the couch. “I wish you didn't have to.”
You turned your head, the throbbing in your temples easing when your eyes met his. His black tank top fit him perfectly, complementing the tattoos that stretched across his neck and arms. The skulls and flowers, symbols of death and hope, told stories of his past. Stories he didn't have to tell you about, but he did anyway and you were happy to know every detail. As captivating as the ink was, it was his blue eyes that held you. In them, you saw your future, bright and full of love.
“That’s life. And you work hard, too,” you reminded him.
“Yeah. My job is so honorable,” he mumbled, making a mess of his hair as he ran a hand through it. “I’m really making a difference in the world.”
You frowned sympathetically. Bucky was a gifted mechanic, but his family was dealt a bad hand and he did what he had to do to take care of his younger sister. “And you’ll be out of there soon.”
Once he finished paying off Becca's medical bills, he could quit. That day was getting closer and closer. And one day he’d open his own shop, too, a legitimate shop. You wanted to stand beside him when that dream came true. Becca would be so proud.
Both of you wanted the best for Bucky.
He sighed, sinking to his knees and resting his hands on your thighs. You could see the gray peppering his scruff and you couldn’t help but reach out to run your nails through it. The sound of his groan made you smile, so you did it again.
“I just wanna give you the world,” he whispered, turning his head and kissing your palm. “You know that, right?”
“You already do,” you whispered back, his eyes softening. You had a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and his love in your heart. It was all you needed. “But you know, I could-”
Bucky put a finger to your lips to stop you. “I know what you're going to say and we’re not selling your dad's car.”
You smiled sadly. Your dad’s car was a classic and could get Bucky the money he needed, but he turned the offer down each time you brought it up. He didn't want you to give up one of the only things you had left of your dad. “I won't say a word tonight.”
But you could try again tomorrow.
“Thank you.” He took your hand and kissed your palm again. “You up for a ride later?”
“I don’t think I’m moving from this spot tonight,” you half smiled. “But we can tomorrow.”
“You don’t wanna go for a ride tonight?” he asked, surprise laced in his voice. You usually jumped at the chance to ride his motorcycle with him.
“Feet and head hurt a little,” you admitted, touching his cheek as concern etched his features. “I’m fine, really. Nothing for you to make a fuss about, but I won't turn you down if you want to dote on me.”
“Baby,” he sighed, slipping your shoes off. You gasped when he began massaging the sole of your right foot, the gentle pressure making your body sink deeper into the couch. By the time he switched to your left foot, you were practically melting. “That better?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, combing your fingers through his dark hair. He always took care of you. “I swear, you have magic hands.”
“Oh, I have more than magic hands,” he winked, your heart skipping a beat. “And you know what’s good for headaches?”
“Bucky…” you smiled. There was a warning in your voice, but you couldn't help the amusement in your eyes.
“Yes, me,” he grinned. “I’m very good at helping with headaches and you know it.”
Your smile widened. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, so making you come all over my face before I cook you dinner was not what you meant and will not help your headache?” he asked, his voice deep, dripping with desire.
Whatever ache you felt in your body all went straight to your pussy. A deep, throbbing ache that cried out for him to soothe it since he was the cause. “Is making melt on your tongue as my reward for working a double?”
He smirked at your breathy tone. “That’s exactly what it is.” He didn’t need to ask you to lift your hips when he reached for the waistband of your pants and pulled them off with your underwear. Your body moved on instinct for him, fluid and in sync. “I can feed you right here and carry you to bed, too.”
“I’m too big and heavy for you to carry me,” you teased. His eyes flashed, and before you could react, he leaned down unexpectedly, sinking his teeth into your thigh. Your mouth fell open from the sting, but it felt good, too. “Hey!” You shrieked.
“You’re not big. You’re not heavy. You’re perfect,” he snarled, brushing his tongue along the teeth marks. You wanted his mark all over you. “I’ll blame that remark on how tired you are right now from work.”
Framing his face to lift his head, you met his lips in a soft kiss, hoping to convey how much it meant to you that he saw you as beautiful. How touched you were that he always put your care and feelings first. As scary as he looked to others, you knew the man inside. The one with a heart full of passion.
“I’m not perfect,” you whispered against his lips, gasping when he nibbled your bottom lip. A second bite for once again downplaying yourself. “But I’m perfect for you.”
“You think so?” he asked quietly.
“I know so,” you said, biting his bottom lip for good measure.
He thought you were too good for him some days, and you were quick to shut that down. A good man wouldn’t have taken care of his sister the way he did, and he wouldn’t love you wholeheartedly if he was less of a good person than you. His current profession didn’t define him, and you refused to let him believe it did.
“I...” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Love...” You shivered when he kissed the other corner. “You.”
A flame lit within your heart. His tender touches and words burned you from the inside out. “I love you, too,” you managed to whisper before his lips covered yours again.
Fresh arousal washed over you when he smiled and kissed down your body. “Now let me show you with my mouth how much I love you,” he simpered, parting your legs to open for him. “Might die if I don’t get my mouth on you and you wouldn’t want that, would you? And we need to get rid of your headache.”
You moaned, also feeling like you’d die if he didn’t touch you. “Do I get your cock, too? It’s a pretty bad headache you need to help me get rid of,” you teased. If your pain actually persisted, he’d make you take something and insist on you resting. And maybe it was selfish to ask for more than one orgasm, but you both knew he wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to rock your world.
“Before and after dinner,” he promised, his pupils dialting as he stared between your trembling thighs. “Fuck, I missed you today,” he groaned.
“Missed me or my pussy?” you asked, certain that you were going to soak the cushion beneath you and you didn’t care as long as he got you off. “Because we both missed you.”
He smirked, his hand inching up your thigh. “Of course, you missed me. Who else would make you come as hard as I do?”
Cocky was a good look on him, but you could play a little, too. “Well…” Your coy smile had him raising his eyebrow. “If you really want to know, there’s-” You threw your head back with a cry as Bucky’s head dipped down to taste you, effectively cutting off your teasing.
It wouldn’t take long for you to coat his fingers and tongue with your release. It never did with him. He’d make you taste yourself when he kissed you after so you could fully appreciate the orgasm he gave you. He wouldn’t give you any reprieve when he’d bend you over the couch and sink his cock into your sensitive pussy. Your sounds would be erotic music to his ears, just like his words were music to yours.
“Grind that pussy back against me. Show me how much you crave my cock.”
“Such a good girl for me. Such a good pussy for me to fuck and fill.”
“Don’t you dare rub your clit. You wanna come? I’ll make you come.”
“Oh, you don’t have to beg for me to come inside you. I’ll give it to you.”
You’d scream his name in ecstasy and pass out in his arms from the best kind of exhaustion. You’d wake up to him kissing your forehead and holding you upright so he could hand feed you a delicious meal. You’d smile when he told you how much he loved you and that he'd be free of the chop shop soon. And you’d tell him you loved him, too, before he fucked you all over again.
It was going to be a good night.
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Appreciate you lovelies indulging me like always and hope to share more when I can. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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inkedinshadows · 1 day ago
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Bound by Secrets
Pairing: Azriel x Beron’s daughter!reader
Summary: When you get caught sneaking around the Hewn City, you end up in one of the dungeon cells to be interrogated by the infamous Spymaster. But things don't go exactly the way the General and the High Lord thought.
Warnings: mentions of sex, allusions to torture and scars
Word count: 6.4k
A/N: Okay sooo, I got a bit carried away with the first part and it came out longer than anticipated, with Az coming in at around word 1.7k. I know it’s a lot without him since it's his appreciation week, but the build-up is worth it (hopefully) and seeing how long the whole fic turned out to be, I hope you don't mind too much. There's still a lot of Azriel, I swear! (and I might have gone a little bit off-topic but shh it's fine). Anyway, happy @azrielappreciationweek everyone!
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You knew being here was dangerous.
The Hewn City was not a place you could simply sneak into, and yet here you were, lurking in a corner of the throne room, waiting for the right moment to slip out and search for the treasury.
You had been sent there with a mission: find the Veritas Orb. How your father knew where it was, or what he needed it for, was not information you had been made privy to. But the High Lord of the Autumn Court had been clear: you were to steal the Orb as soon as possible. Knowing the kind of punishment he dealt when disappointed, you always did your best to comply. That left you with little time to prepare and, apparently, a huge number of problems.
Because just as you were about to make an unseen exit through the hallway you had previously selected, every single person in the crowd stiffened, and the chattering stopped abruptly, plunging the room into a silence so deep you could hear a pin drop.
As you turned to see what had happened, you realized everyone was staring at the entrance doors, just as they swung open. One look at the two tall figures slowly stalking in, and you knew you needed to get out before it was too late.
You blended into the shadows against the wall as the Spymaster and the General of the Army made their way to the dais on the other side of the hall. A smudge of red and gold was all you caught out of the corner of your eye when the Morrigan entered, just as you bolted down the hallway.
The High Lord and High Lady would be next. And if they caught you not only in their Court, but in their underground city as well, you'd be in serious trouble. You couldn't risk it. You needed to get out.
Yet you couldn't leave. Not without the Orb. Fear seized you for a split second at the mere thought of the pain you would suffer at your father's hands if you were to fail, and then you broke into a sprint—or as close to a sprint as you could manage with the high heels you had worn to blend in with the Hewn City inhabitants.
A thrum of power reached you despite the distance you had already put between yourself and the throne room, a clear sign of the High Lord and Lady’s arrival. You needed to hurry.
“Damn heels,” you muttered under your breath. You stopped long enough to take them off, gather them in your hands, and resume your run. At least your night-black dress was loose enough around the legs to allow you to move freely.
You had no idea where the treasury was. Your father didn't know, merely telling you the Orb was likely kept there—as if that helped. But you wouldn't consider where else it could be, instead choosing to focus on one thing at a time.
You wandered through the hallways, peering into every room you could find. Most of them were studies, sitting rooms, or smaller chambers for holding court. None of them what you were looking for.
Pushing a heavy wooden door open, you discovered a staircase that spiraled down. The basement. Or dungeons, you guessed, summoning a flame in your hand to light the steps as you began the descent. It made sense for the treasury to be on a lower level—harder to reach and easier to hide. That was where your father kept his most treasured possessions as well.
The stairs ended in a long hallway with many other tunnels branching off. You chose one out of instinct and kept going like that for a while, trying to remember every turn you took. The place was like a maze and there was nothing to, with nothing to distinguish the different paths. But eventually, your seemingly random choices paid off, and/because you found yourself in front of large, unguarded double doors. Upon closer inspection, you realized they were warded, hence the lack of actual guards.
With a smirk, you placed your palm on the knob and summoned more of your power. Your hand became a bright shade of orange, and a thin circle of fire spread from it, growing over the surface of the doors until it burned the spell protecting them. A little trick your oldest brother had taught you years ago.
Pulling your hand away, it returned to its normal color as you shoved the door open and walked inside.
Piles of gold lined the walls, jewels and weapons displayed in glass cabinets, and everywhere you turned, something shiny caught your eye. You delved deeper into the room, discovering beautiful pieces of artwork scattered around, but you couldn’t let them distract you from your task. You began searching the place instead, opening boxes and trunks, anything you could find, but there were no signs of the Veritas. The more you looked, the clearer it became.
The Orb wasn't there.
A frustrated sigh escaped you, and you stifled a groan as you made your way back to the tunnels, picking up the heels you had left by the door.
There had to be another room where more treasure was kept. You just had to find it. You were so sure it would be somewhere nearby that you made a stupid mistake: you didn’t count your turns, didn’t memorize when and where you had gone left or right or straight.
Maybe you should have asked for help before coming here. You had considered it, but you didn't want to endanger more people than necessary—or, even worse, have the truth discovered—and you honestly had thought you could do this alone.
You were wrong, and now you were lost. Like a damn fool.
Too caught up in your worries and rising anxiety, you did not hear the approaching steps. As you turned around the corner, you bumped into a tall, muscular body. A strong hand gripped your arm to keep you from losing balance, and the flame still flickering around your hand went out.
Now only the low gloom of the torches several feet down the tunnel illuminated the darkness.
“There you are.”
You didn’t recognize that deep, almost rough voice, but your heart jumped in your throat at sight of the leathery wings and the black scaled armor adorned with seven crimson Siphons.
You already knew who you were facing when you looked up and met the wary gaze of the General of the Night Court armies, his face half-hidden in the dark.
“There I am?” you repeated, putting on a sweet smile that didn’t reflect your internal turmoil. “Were you looking for me, General?”
His eyes narrowed as he took in your bare feet and the heels you still held in your hand. “What are you doing down here?”
You couldn’t tell if he meant down here in the Hewn City or in the tunnels below the palace. What if he knew the truth? What if he knew who you were? It could have given you a way out, it could have—
But Cassian’s grip on your arm tightened at your silence. “Answer me,” he growled. “We know someone broke into the treasury. And I know it was you.”
You shivered at his tone, at the fear that began to settle inside you, knowing you had been caught. As you tried to find a way out, you heard the words coming out of your mouth as if they were someone else’s: feigned shock at the news, deep confusion at the accusation, refined politeness when you addressed him. Hopefully, it was enough to let you off the hook.
“Why, if I may ask, would you think that was me, General?”
He didn’t seem impressed by your display of innocence. “There are very few redheads in the Hewn City, and none with fire powers. You’re from Autumn.”
Well, shit. You were so used to seeing red-haired Fae in the Autumn Court that you hadn't considered how recognizable your hair—or your powers, for that matter—could be outside of your home.
“I…”
You didn’t know what to say. You had red hair. You were suspiciously wandering in the tunnels. You had broken into the treasury using your fire. How could you find an excuse for all of that?
Your hesitation was confirmation enough for the General. His grip on your arm became almost painful. “Who are you? What were you looking for in the treasury?”
Maybe telling him the truth would help. If you revealed that you were in the Hewn City because you had no other choice, that you were not only Beron’s secret daughter but also his spy, his undercover agent, would he believe you? And if he did, would that make things better or worse for you?
Again, you thought about it for too long.
Cassian’s eyes narrowed even more. “You’re coming with me,” he ordered, nudging you along. “And you will talk, one way or another.”
You didn’t like where this was going. You didn’t like it one bit.
You could burn him, you supposed. Use your fire on him to create a distraction and run away. But you knew what kind of pain it caused, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt someone that way, not even him. And even if you did, where could you run? You didn’t know the place, didn't know where the hallways led or where the hiding spots were. But Cassian did. You wouldn’t get far before he found you.
You let the General lead you even deeper into the dungeons, following him without a struggle, even as the cold air bit at your skin and your gut churned in fear.
After a few minutes, you were escorted inside a small cell. There was nothing but a wooden chair in the middle of the space, right next to a grate on the floor from which hisses and growls rose up. You decided you didn’t want to know what was on the other side.
Cassian took your shoes, placing them next to the door as he gestured for you to sit. You obeyed silently and took a seat, waiting for the handcuffs, for the restraint, for the questions to start.
None of it came.
You just sat there, the General watching you intently from his spot against the wall, his stance relaxed yet alert in case you tried something. He said not a word.
You weren’t sure how much time passed before the door opened again and another male walked in. He was Illyrian too, a sword similar to Cassian’s was strapped to his back, and he wore the same armor. But his Siphons were a shade of cobalt blue, his black hair cut short, and he was surrounded by swirling shadows.
Your breath caught at the sight of the Spymaster.
Azriel’s eyes widened ever so slightly as they settled on you, his shadows frozen around his shoulders. He stood there, wings tucked tightly in, staring at you as if he could see right through your façade.
“Where is Rhys?”
The Spymaster didn’t tear his gaze away from you even as he answered. “He couldn’t leave.” His voice, cold as ice, sent a shiver down your spine. “This is the intruder?”
You held your head up high, reigning in your emotions. You wouldn’t let him intimidate you. You refused to. No matter the stories you had heard about the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court, you wouldn’t cower. Not before him. You had suffered enough at the hands of your father to know how to deal with fear and pain.
“I found her wandering in the tunnels,” Cassian answered. “Not far from the treasury, hand wreathed in flames. She refused to say anything.”
The Spymaster assessed you, hazel eyes scanning you from head to toe. “Well, that’s about to change.” His hand lingered dangerously close to the black-hilted knife strapped to his muscular thigh.
Your brother's words echoed in your mind. “Tell him what he wants to hear.” “If you fight him, you'll only make it worse.” “Think of something nice, hold on to it, and it'll be over soon enough.” “Behave like the pliant little female he expects you to be.”
If Eris's precious advice had always worked with your father and his particular inclination for painful punishments, then maybe it would work now as well.
Azriel's gaze didn't falter as he stalked toward you, the dagger now clutched in his scarred fingers. You could have sworn his hand trembled for just a split second as he unsheathed it, but you were already looking down at your bare feet, letting your shoulders slump forward and your stiff back relax into a more submissive position.
A pair of black boots stopped right in front of you. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands holding the armrests so tightly that your knuckles went white. The scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled your nose as cold metal pressed just under your chin, urging you to lift your head.
You didn't fight it, meeting a pair of honeyed eyes that stared at you coolly. So close, you could see the tiny speck of green in them, even with his dilated pupils.
Cauldron, this male was beautiful. Painfully so. Bigger issues begged for your attention, but you couldn't help but admire him—the sharp features of his face, the perfect lines of his jaw, the plush lips, the way a few black curls hung over his forehead.
You didn't dare shift your position, but the urge to clench your thighs was almost overwhelming. The most inappropriate time ever.
Azriel seemed to somehow sense it, because his nostrils flared and the tip of the knife pressed a bit more under your chin, though still not enough to draw blood.
“What are you doing here?”
That voice, like silk and shadows and ice. Now you could understand why everyone feared the Shadowsinger of the Night Court.
“Why were you in the treasury?” he pressed, more demanding than before.
When you didn't answer his questions, he removed the dagger and took a step back. You glanced at the General, still standing by the door, but your focus quickly returned to the Spymaster, who had begun to circle around your chair.
Like a beast about to strike, toying with its prey before the killing blow.
“You know, this would be easier if you talked willingly.”
Shadows wrapped around both your ankles and wrists to prevent any possible movement. He was behind you now, his dagger trailing down your arm, sending all your senses on high alert.
“Or I'll have to resort to more… unpleasant methods.”
Your bindings tightened as if to prove his point and a small gasp escaped your lips. You had to say something, come up with some kind of excuse before it was too late.
“Tell him what he wants to hear.”
What did he want to hear? You couldn't very well give up the truth, could you? But maybe if you did, maybe if you tried…
Your eyes shot to the General. He was studying you with his arms crossed, nothing but distaste etched on his features.
Azriel, now on your left, noticed the direction of your gaze. He watched the other Illyrian for a few heartbeats before speaking in that low, quiet voice of his. “You know I work better when I'm alone.”
You stilled at the words. You, alone in a dungeon cell with the Spymaster? This changed everything—reshuffling all the cards, altering the odds of how this interrogation might end.
Cassian blinked, turning to face him. The two males stared at each other for what felt like ages, a silent conversation passing between them. Eventually, the General sighed.
“Fine,” he grumbled, fingers raking through his dark hair. “But alert Rhys immediately if something happens.”
The Shadowsinger seemed to hold back a scoff. “I know what I'm doing, Cassian,” he replied coolly. “I always get the information I want.”
You swallowed harshly, but Cassian gave a sharp nod and sauntered out of the cell.
As soon as the door closed behind him and his footsteps faded down the hallways, Azriel crouched in front of you, the dagger sheathed at his thigh once more. The shadows restraining you vanished.
“What the hell are you doing here, my love?”
~~~~~~
You and Azriel had met four years prior.
When you were born—the youngest and only female in a clutch of seven brothers—your father decided to keep you in the shadows. He never publicly acknowledged having a daughter, believing that no one would suspect a girl, thus raising you to serve as his undercover agent. Only your family knew of your existence, and if you hadn't gone mad over the years of confinement, it was only thanks to your sweet mother and Eris.
Beron had spent almost a century training you, molding you into his perfect little spy, and then sent you out into the world for just as long to do exactly what he had taught you.
You were attending a ball in the Day Court the first time you saw Azriel. You had already gathered the intel your father wanted about the honored guests from the Dawn Court, but you had no intention of going home earlier than scheduled. You still had until morning. And when the most beautiful male you had ever seen walked into the room as part of the Night Court delegation, you knew exactly how you wanted to spend your remaining time.
You watched him, taking in his muscular body, the massive wings, and the swirling shadows, until his eyes finally found yours through the crowd. You offered him a gentle yet unwavering smile, and your core clenched at the way he studied you as you approached him. Like he was already imagining pinning you beneath him.
It didn't take long for him to do just that. Within minutes, you found yourself in the room he was staying in, your dress discarded on the floor and his head between your thighs.
You had never felt so good as you did in those few hours.
It was almost dawn by the time you were both spent and sweaty, but you fought against exhaustion. You waited for Azriel to fall asleep, and then you slipped out of the room.
He woke up to an empty bed.
The next time you met him was a few months later. The High Lords and High Lady were all meeting in the Winter Court to discuss Prythian’s situation after the war with Hybern, but your father was paranoid. He ordered you to ensure the other courts weren’t plotting a coup against him.
You had just sneaked out of the suite reserved for the High Lord of the Summer Court and his entourage when shadows pooled at your feet, and your back was slammed against the wall. The air was snatched from your lungs at the impact, leaving you little time to take another breath before a dark dagger pressed against your throat.
Despite having spent just one night together, you immediately recognized your assailant by his scent alone.
“Didn't know you were into this kind of thing,” you drawled, looking up to meet Azriel's gaze. “Kinky. I like it.”
His eyes widened slightly as recognition dawned on him, the blade moving an inch away from your neck but no more. “It's you.”
You knew you should be bothered by the dagger, that this was a powerful male not to be trifled with, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you could still remember how his lips tasted and how good he felt inside you.
“Strange way to meet again, uh?”
Azriel didn't return your smirk, nor did he step away. Instead, his voice was cold as death now that his surprise had faded. “Why are you sneaking into the suites?”
You had mastered the art of weaving lies so long ago that the answer flowed effortlessly from your lips. 
“Cresseida was wearing a beautiful necklace at lunch,” you replied with a shrug. “I wanted to see if she left it in her room.”
His eyes narrowed. “So, you're a petty thief?”
Better than the truth, you thought, though a small part of you longed to confide in him, to tell him everything. A deep, innate feeling of trust had somehow bloomed in your chest. You ignored it.
“I'm a simple girl.” You offered him your most charming smile. “I see a shining jewel, and I want it for myself.”
Azriel hummed, knife still at your throat. His eyes scanned your face and you felt like he could see everything you were trying to conceal, all the secrets you'd kept locked away for years.
“You went through the suites of every Court except Autumn,” he mused, the tip of the blade tracing your jaw. You went utterly still. “Why?”
You didn't know how to answer. You didn't even know how he knew that. You'd been caught red-handed, and you had a feeling that any new lie you concocted would be pointless. So you decided to trust your gut.
“Alright.” You took a deep breath—or as deep as you dared with a sharp dagger pressed against your neck. “I work for Beron. He thinks someone might stage a coup, so he sent me to gather information.”
His eyes, which had been roaming over your features and perhaps lingered a second too long on your lips—though that could just be your imagination—snapped up to meet yours. The blade pressed a fraction harder against your skin, a clear sign of his distrust.
“For Beron?” he repeated. Not a hint of surprise or disdain marked his tone, just that icy coldness, so different from the warm voice he'd used to talk you through it in the Summer Court. “And he fears a coup?”
You wanted to sigh but didn't dare. If only he would sheath that damn dagger…
“Yes, that's what I said. And honestly, if someone does, I'm not surprised. I hope it works out for them.”
Azriel's brow arched.
“I mean, the male's horrible. He deserves it.”
You were aware of the dangerous line you were crossing, speaking of your father—your High Lord—like that to an important member of a rival court. You'd never voiced those thoughts aloud to anyone but Eris, and yet here you were. Beron would punish you if he found out. You were first his subject, then his spy, and only then his daughter.
A scarred hand cupped your jaw, Azriel's face now only inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath on your cheeks. “Why do you work for him, then?” he snarled.
His grip on your chin made it impossible to look away, forcing you to meet his golden eyes. In that moment, you let him see your truth, the honesty and vulnerability you never revealed.
“Because I don't have a choice.”
A heartbeat passed, and then his expression softened. You stilled as his hand moved from your jaw to your cheek.
You had seen his scars months ago and immediately recognized what had caused them. Cauldron knew you always kept yours hidden with a glamor, allowing it to dissipate only in the privacy of your bedroom.
Thinking about all your father had put you through made the reality of the situation slam into you. What if Azriel told your father what you had just said? The Night Court and the Autumn Court were not on good terms, but who knew what political machinations were at play behind closed doors. Beron would consider your words a betrayal and punish you accordingly.
Your worry must have shown on your face because Azriel's thumb brushed over your cheekbone, gentle and reassuring. “Your secret's safe with me,” he said softly. He studied you for a moment, and whatever he saw in your expression seemed to convince him to finally put his dagger back into its scabbard at his thigh.
You took a deep, shaky breath, unsure whether it stemmed from believing him or simply from relief at no longer being threatened.
Now free, his fingers brushed over your throat where his blade had been. There probably was a thin pink line there. His featherlight touch sent shivers down your spine.
“I'm sorry,” he murmured.
Your voice was barely a whisper. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
You stared at each other, time seeming to slow down. His shadows peeked from behind his broad shoulders, a few tendrils swirling forward and weaving through your red locks, but your gaze locked on his, your heartbeat quickening. His other hand still cradled your cheek.
“I'm sorry,” you murmured.
“What for?”
‘For lying to you.’
‘For sneaking into your Court’s suite.’
‘Because I can't tell you the whole truth.’
So many easy replies, and all of them true. But one in particular pushed at the corner of your mind, one you hadn't been able to shake for months.
“For walking away right after you fell asleep.”
Something flashed in his eyes, there and gone in an instant, but you didn't recognize what it was. You didn't know him well enough to read every subtle change in his expression. Part of you wished you could.
You waited for him to say something—either to tell you he didn't care or that it wasn't a big deal—but as his silence stretched on, you debated whether you should change the subject or perhaps apologize for bringing it up.
Just as you opened your mouth, Azriel spoke again, but his words were not what you had expected.
“I looked for you the day after,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “But you were gone.”
You couldn't help but stare, so caught off guard that you were completely speechless. You had thought about him often since that night, but you never imagined he might have looked for you in the morning. You were torn between feeling even worse about leaving him and the rapid beat of your heart.
A grin curled your lips as you rested your hands on his chest. Even with his armor on, you could recall the lines of the tattoos swirling across his golden skin, a sliver of black ink peeking from his collar. “I was that good?” you teased.
Azriel chuckled under his breath, the sound like a song to your ears. “You were that good.” He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your ear, teeth grazing your earlobe. “You felt that good wrapped around me.”
Your breath hitched at his words, and you could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh, igniting a desire that made you want to moan.
“Do you want to do it again?”
He barely gave you time to finish that sentence before his lips claimed yours, eliciting a surprised whimper. Your fingers tangled in his curls, his hands cupped your face, and there was nothing sweet or gentle about the kiss as his body pressed yours against the wall and you began to grind on him.
You parted only to catch your breath, but Azriel was already nipping at your neck, and you tilted your head to grant him more access.
When distant footsteps echoed from a nearby hallway, he didn’t even pull away as shadows wrapped around you both. In an instant, they winnowed you into a bedroom you didn't bother to register, too busy pushing Azriel on the large bed and climbing on top of him.
After that time, you began to plan your meetings. It was often a real challenge to find a moment when both of you could slip away from your duties without raising suspicions, but you couldn't risk your families discovering that you were regularly sleeping with a spy from a rival court.
Then, somewhere along the way, it happened. Sex slowly transformed into making love as you both developed feelings for one another, and around one year later, the mating bond snapped into place. You wanted to accept it, but you couldn't shake the dark cloud looming over your head. It was then that you decided to tell Azriel the truth about who you were, who your father was. He was gone for twenty days after your revelation, and you were left wondering whether it was because you had kept it hidden from him for so long or if he truly had a tight schedule and couldn't make time for a secret rendezvous. But when he finally returned, he assured you that whoever your father was wouldn't change or diminish his love for you. That very night, you offered him food, relief washing over you like a balm.
~~~~~~
And here you were, three years and countless secret meetings later.
“What are you doing here?” Azriel repeated, his voice carrying the usual softness he used when speaking to you, but with an edge of nervousness and impatience.
“My father sent me to retrieve the Veritas Orb,” you explained with a sigh. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to have to lie to your family even more. And… I thought I could do this alone.”
Azriel fell silent, his back stiff, his posture rigid. The shadows had retreated behind his wings. Finally, he asked, “What does he need it for?”
You gave him an apologetic look. “He didn't bother to share that information.”
He nodded, as if he had expected that answer. Rising to his feet, he offered you a hand to help you up from your seat. You took it, his skin cold against your palm, and stood with a frown.
“What do we do now?” you whispered, anxious despite Cassian’s absence. “I didn't mean to bring you into this mess, love.”
Azriel let go of your hand to cup your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Don't apologize. I know he didn't give you a choice.” He pressed his soft lips to your forehead. “But I can't let you walk out, angel. We need some excuse.”
Right, because letting you leave unscathed and without any information would only get him in trouble with his High Lord. But leaving without the Orb would get you in trouble. And yet, you would rather endure whatever punishment your father would concoct than let your mate deal with the consequences of your reckless actions.
You stepped back, out of the warmth provided by his body. You had a plan, one you knew he wouldn’t like, but it seemed like the only solution to get you both out of this mess with minimal repercussions. Well, for him at least. You doubted Beron would take pity and turn a blind eye to your failure, but it was worth a shot.
“I need you to hurt me.”
His eyes widened, but you went on before he could object. “You can tell Rhysand I was acting alone, that you made sure I won't be a problem anymore, and I’ll go back to Autumn and tell my father I was caught and tortured. But I need you to hurt me and I need you to make it look believable.”
Azriel was gaping. You had never seen him like this before. You knew how your idea sounded, but you needed him to understand the criticality of the situation and agree to it.
“Az, I—”
“No.”
You blinked. “No?”
Something ticked in his jaw, a subtle clench of his muscle. “No,” he repeated, voice firm and unyielding. “I'm not hurting you, love. You can't just ask me to do that. I won't. I can't.”
You studied him for a moment, but you knew he wasn't going to change his mind.
“Fine,” you sighed, extending a hand toward him, palm up. “Then give me Truth-Teller.”
He frowned, and the shadows swirled around him nervously, as if sensing the direction this conversation was taking. “And why would I do that?”
“You won't hurt me, so I'll do it myself,” you replied, as if the answer was obvious.
His eyes widened. “Y/N—”
“Just a few cuts here and there,” you assured him. “Nothing too bad. But my father has to believe it's real.”
Once again, Azriel stared at you, pale as if he had just seen a ghost. “You can't be serious.”
“You have a better idea?” you retorted. Without waiting for his answer, you reached for the dagger at his thigh. The sooner you could get this over with, the better.
Azriel easily sidestepped you, grabbing both your wrists to prevent you from trying to take his knife again. “I'm not letting you hurt yourself either,” he stated. His grip on you was gentle, but his tone was cold. It was the kind of tone that told you he wouldn't take no for an answer.
But neither would you.
“We don't have a choice, Az,” you countered, your voice steady despite the rising tension. Yet you didn't try to free your hands.
Something shifted in his eyes, in his expression. His thumbs brushed over your wrists in soothing motions, and a pleading note entered his voice when he spoke again. “I can't stand to see you hurt, my love. I don't care about the reason.”
For a few seconds, you just stared into each other's eyes. You were still tense and rigid, and fear coiled in your gut at the thought of going back and facing your father. But Azriel's gaze was soft, scarred fingers never ceasing their gentle caresses. In that moment, you realized that he would rather tell his family the truth than let you go back home battered.
And then it hit you. Though you loved the Autumn Court, it wasn't your home. No, your home was Azriel. He had been for years now. Your safe place, the person you could always count on, the one who knew you better than anyone else. Your mate.
“He won't let me leave,” you whispered, and you hated how weak and vulnerable you sounded.
“You're already here.” Azriel lifted your hands to his mouth and pressed a warm kiss on each palm. “You don't need to leave. You just need to stay.”
You shook your head, tears rising to your eyes. “He sent me here. He knows where I am, and he'll come looking or send someone to find me, or—”
“We'll deal with him,” he interrupted you. “But you'll be safe here. I promise.”
You couldn't hold back the tears, then. He sounded so sure, as if it could ever be that simple. As if you could just make the choice to stay and never go back. You wished you could. With all your heart, you wished it could be as simple as that.
“Az, I… I can't,” you murmured, voice trembling.
He let go of your wrists to cup your cheeks, wiping away your tears. “I will protect you,” he reassured softly. “My whole family will, once they know the truth. You will be safe in the Night Court. And if not, then… then we'll go somewhere else, somewhere far away where Beron won't find us.”
We. Us.
For how long had you wished to hear those words? Even after you two had met, you had never truly been a couple. You had stolen moments whenever you could, but it was always you and him—your duties and his. Never a ‘we’, never an ‘us’.
“Stay.”
You closed your eyes, unable to hold his pleading gaze any longer.
“Stay in the Night Court.”
You swallowed, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders as if it were a physical burden. “Az…”
“Stay with me.” His voice broke, vulnerability spilling into every word. “Please.”
What if it were that easy? What if you could make the decision and simply not go back to the Autumn Court? What if you could spend every day and every night with the person you loved with all your heart, with your mate, and not having to hide, to carefully plan every meeting, to weave lie after lie to everyone around you?
When you opened your eyes, Azriel was staring at you. He was still brushing away your tears, but even through their veil, you could see how beautiful he was. How desperate. How broken.
And you nodded.
“Okay,” you whispered.
His eyes immediately lit up. “Okay?”
“Yes,” you confirmed despite the quiver in your voice. “Yes, I'm… I’m staying. With you.”
You barely had time to finish the sentence before he pulled you into his arms, your face pressed against his chest as he held you tight. You let yourself go, surrendering to the tears and the sobs shaking your body, clutching his leathers to keep your hands from trembling.
“Thank you,” he murmured against your hair, over and over. “Thank you, my love. Thank you.”
You didn't know how long you just stood there. Minutes, hours, days—it didn't matter. You were together now, and you would always be from this moment on. You were home, and never again would you suffer at the hands of your father.
His shadows swarmed around you, caressing your back and arms, twisting in your hair as if they, too, were excited about what would happen next. You didn't know. For the first time in your life, the future was bright, and happiness was within your grasp.
You pulled back only when your tears ran dry. Azriel pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you both smiled, brightly and lovingly, knowing you would not leave each other again.
“Let's get you out of here,” he said eventually, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers. “There's so much to do.”
Like meeting his family. Revealing your identity, who you were and what you did, and hoping they would understand and not hold it against you.
As Azriel stepped back to turn toward the door, you hesitated.
“Can you promise me something?” you asked, your voice quiet and still a bit hoarse from crying.
He stopped, worried eyes immediately searching your face for any sign of discomfort or concern. “Of course, love. Anything you want.”
“It's nothing too big, just…” You offered a small smile and squeezed his fingers. “No more secrets, Az.”
His hazel eyes softened, and his lips curled into a beautiful smile. He nodded, tugging gently on your hand to lead you out of the cell and into your new life. “No more secrets.”
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2nd a/n: if the lines "Stay / Stay in the Night Court / Stay with me" reminded you of another very similar quote, you are correct. I had originally written "Stay in the Night Court. Just... stay with me" and it made me think of that quote, which is one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite books and said by one of my favorite characters ever, so I decided to include it (a little easter egg, if you will). Kaz and Azriel 🤝 simping for the girl they like
General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings
Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever
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mistresscitrusslice · 4 hours ago
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Thank you so much for going through the effort to even get screenshots! It’s seriously appreciated.
You make a good point, not least of which because this circle looks like a blast zone that came from within. It even pushed other bodies away. I’ve never seen Kindred gameplay, idk what their protective powers look like, but generally spells that are cast on you by someone else use the caster as the center of the spell, not the target. (Basically, the blast circle wouldn’t have been centered on Ambessa, but on the Wolf.)
The protected area around Mel and Jayce when they wake up doesn’t look like a blast zone the way it did with Ambessa (other than, you know, the Actual Bomb), so I’m not sure what to make of that.
I did not know that Ambessa had a bio already, let alone that included stuff from her music video! I thought she just had her blurb. It’s great that they clarified who she was pregnant with eventually. Uh, where’s Kino while she’s out at war then??? I imagine that Kino’s father was probably also a soldier and in the army too. Hopefully Kino was with relatives or family friends.
Also, Rokrund! It’s nice to get a name for the specific region Ambessa is from other than just the wider nation of Noxus. Is this a new name we’re hearing or has it appeared in any other League lore/media before?
“Visions that she would speak of to few others.” I wonder who those few are. Given how she treats her children, I cannot trust that even her kids are among these few. Their dad, maybe? I hesitate to say “Ambessa’s husband” because she definitely does not act like she has a husband, or maybe he’s deceased.
I plead the fifth on the Solari stuff because I know jack shit about the Solari, and if it turns out that Mel does have Solari magic, I do want to be surprised by their lore.
It still puzzles me why, if she does have magic, she wouldn’t use it to defend herself. You mentioned it being linked to situations with certain death. I’m iffy on this because it feels convoluted and kind of like a cop-out if that really is the reason can’t use it at will. If it is the case, though, then maybe Viktor wasn’t hurt because his magic clashed with hers, but because his death wasn’t guaranteed. I rewatched the opening scene, and he was still moving a little when Jayce performed Hexcore magic on him. If his death wasn’t certain, then the magic had no need to save him.
More likely, Mel’s magic has a cooldown and a long period where she needs to build enough magic back up to be able to use, but most likely, Mel doesn’t even know she has magic. There’s no sense in concealing her magic now, especially not after it saved herself and Jayce. Sure, it’d be a bad idea to come out about it to the world even after Piltover accepted Hextech since it would’ve been a secret for so long. However, I do believe she would’ve told Jayce. If not before, then definitely after it saved the two of them and Viktor still almost died.
Jayce needs as much information as he can get to figure out what’s going on with Viktor. Mel cares a lot about Jayce and seems to also care for Viktor even if she disagreed with him last season. She also has the same innate curiosity that Jayce and Viktor do. She’d want him to be able to solve this puzzle with all the information at his disposal and has been able to open up to him in the past with the trust that he would not share her secrets. She’d tell him so that they could figure out why her magic didn’t work as it was supposed to.
Unless there’s a reason we haven’t been told for why she needs to keep this hidden? If you squint your ears real hard, her line of “There’s no sense to these things, Jayce” in response to “How does the explosion do that to him and I just walk out without a scratch” sounds a bit like she’s trying to get him to drop the subject. After all, there is sense to these things for a scientist. There’s physics and calculations that go into why every single piece of debris falls in the way that it does. Which direction it flies in, how much heat is dispersed, the shock absorption in everything and every person in the blast radius, how far each person gets pushed across the room. To Jayce, “there’s no sense” might not be a comforting thing to hear. So was Mel just trying and failing to comfort him or was she attempting to change the subject? Or am I just reading too much into it?
Lmao imagine tho if Jayce found out she has magic, whether she already knew or not. He’d want to study her! And honestly she’d probably be down for it to find out even more ways to use her powers, maybe a way to replicate it with Hextech so more people can have a way to stay safe! That would actually be a good way to use Hextech to help people. And maybe Mel just has a scientist kink, who knows
Mel's protection should have saved Viktor too, and she's trying to figure out why it didn't
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S2 ep1 shows a circle of protected stone where Mel and Jayce were during the explosion. My theory is that Mel's magic armor activated and saved them both. It seems like it casts a sphere of protection around wherever Mel is.
The center of this circle is not Mel's seat - it's Jayce's. She ran to Jayce to save him.
No other Councilors were in range of Mel's protection, so they all got hurt or killed.
But Viktor was, Jayce's words, "right next to" him. He was easily within Mel's circle of protection.
1) Viktor tried to run and mistakenly left the circle of protection. But are we meant to believe that Viktor, close to dying already and using a crutch, would have outrun Mel?
2) Viktor's augmented body clashes with Mel's
Why does Mel try to touch Viktor in episode 1? It seems like a throwaway moment, but not even Jayce touches him in this scene. So why Mel?
She's curious. And possibly, feeling responsible. She's wondering why her protection didn't work.
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Is this Hexcore brand of the Arcane trying to reach out to Mel? Or trying to defend itself from her?
Mel was trying to protect both Jayce and Viktor, which is reflected in how she holds Jayce as well as Viktor's cane when she promises to protect Hextech:
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But if, for example, Mel's magic is Solari in origin, and Viktor's is from the Void - or the Arcane equivalent of similar opposing forces - then it's possible that their magic rejects or hurts one another. So Mel's circle of protection either rejected Viktor, or was what hurt Viktor, and not the explosion.
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bluessmutifyplaylist · 2 days ago
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i need some smut with all of the diasomnia members
(AFAB! reader will be appreciated or if it has a breeding kink if not then its okay since anything you create is insanely good)
love ur work btw one of my favorite creators here also don’t mind the hate comments they just don’t like peace or happiness. Stay hydrated and have a good day!!
I turned off Anon-asks because of the people who can’t speak respectfully, but tysm! Also, I am ~95% sure that you wanted all of the Diasomnia members together…? However, I felt a bit weird about it since their relationship is a lot like family, so I changed it a bit.
Warnings: AFAB!Reader who uses She/Her pronouns, Polyamory, Breeding, Sebek whimpers, Cunnilingus/Oral (Reader Receiving), Overstimulation, Aftercare.
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Diasomnia
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It had been a few months since you entered this… new relationship with the Diasomnia crew. 
Basically, it all started when each of them realized that they had feelings for you, despite you dating Silver, and Silver was more than alright with sharing. However, due to the conflict of relationships, you all agreed that you would not lay in bed together.
After all: Despite no one being blood-related, it was still weird.
Anyway, this week was a rough week for everyone, with Malleus being forgotten from a meeting; Sebek, you, and Silver having had to study a bunch for upcoming tests and exams; and Lilia being sad that Malleus did not have an heir yet.
In other words, everyone needed some relief, and you were more than willing to spread your legs and welcome them. 
However… This time, there was a twist. 
~~~~~~~~
Silver went first. After all, he was very close to falling asleep, and he was probably going to be the most gentle with you. A warm-up, if you will.
He knelt on the floor, bringing you to the edge of the bed as he tongue-fucked you, his teeth grazing lightly on your clit before he grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulders. The touch grounded him, reminding him to stay awake. Your scent nearly made him high.
Drawing another orgasm from you, his grip tightened to hold you still as his face became covered in your juices. He moaned a bit at your taste, the vibrations of his voice making you writhe even more under his grasp. 
However, he soon felt his eyes growing heavy, so he pulled away from your dripping cunt to tag in Sebek. ~~~~~~~~
To say that you were overstimulated would be an understatement, especially since Sebek’s size was nothing to laugh at. He mounted you, and thanks to Silver, he slid right in.
Before you, he was a total virgin, and he was still learning the ropes around sex, but his desperate thrusts and whimpers were more than enough to make your brain melt from the pleasure he was giving you.
However, no matter how desperate he was, it was a rule between the five of you that Malleus was the only one allowed to come inside you… so when Sebek got close, he pulled out and stroked himself to finish all over your back. 
Before he left to head to bed, he grabbed a warm towel to help prepare you for Malleus. After all, the incoming Prince needs the best, right?
~~~~~~~~
Malleus was, by far, the largest size you have ever taken.
He always had you in a mating press, always wanting to be able to see your beautiful face as he gently thrusted into you. Actually, it was more like rutting. His entire shaft didn’t fit in all the way, as he only ever managed to fit half of it all at once.
You were the louder one out of the two of you, especially as he sank his fangs into your neck to muffle his grunts. The pretty noises you made would always be his favorite to hear, and he wouldn’t be able to hear them if he was making any unnecessary noises. When he neared his finish, he stilled inside you as he filled you up, painting your insides white with thick cum. Then, he put a pillow under your hips to ensure that nothing spilled. After all, an heir needed to be produced, right?
~~~~~~~~
Lilia… he surprisingly had no need to get off. He knew you were tuckered out, and he didn’t feel that insatiable urge for sex as much as he used to back in his younger days.
As he cleaned you up with a warm cloth, he giggled at your blissed out expression.
“You know, dearie… The Briar Valley Queen would love to meet you soon… especially since you will be carrying Malleus’s heir very soon.” You thought about his words, smiling softly and nodding. “Perhaps… over the next Winter Break… I may go with you all? I have heard many things about Her Majesty, and I would love to meet her as well.” Lilia was happy to know that you did not have much of an issue with the situation. He thought that you would have an issue with having to carry a dragon’s heir, but you seemed very excited about the thought of becoming a mother. “You shall make an excellent mother, my dear.. We are very excited to be with you on the rewarding, mind-changing journey that is pregnancy.”
Soon, your eyelids started growing heavier and heavier, and the sweet abyss that is called ‘sleep’ started taking over.
“Goodnight, lovely. See you in the morning.”
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hwaightme · 2 days ago
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03:10 AM
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(masterlist)
🌃pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🌃genre: timestamp, comfort, healing, fluff 🌃summary: 3am, a time for overthinking. is love louder than your thoughts? 🌃wordcount: 1k 🌃warnings/tags: unedited, introspection, lack of confidence, two people in love, kissing, cute sleepy seonghwa, writer is rusty 🌃taglist: at the bottom. would love to add you if interested <3 🌃a/n: oh how i wish to write again, to pour words onto pages and let my heart bleed into the ink. this timestamp is mildly inspired by maro's 'we've been loving in silence'. sorry for rustiness, and any love is so appreciated...
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Everyone is deserving of love. Love in all its shapes and colours. A love that looks like a tender conversation in a tiny kitchen, a love that looks like unstoppable laughter under the starry night sky, a love that looks like unwavering dedication and adoration even when it seems impossible. Every person is worthy of a love that makes their heart feel full while being fully aware of the world and all its complexities, shadows and anguish. A love that gives one hope.
Sometimes, this complicated feeling looks like speeding down the city streets as a salvation in the time of trouble. It could even look like a distraught, disjointed embrace accompanied by a cacophony of sobs and stuttered breaths. Love can look like feeling another’s pain, living through it as if it is one’s own. Love can mean heartbreak, over and over again until there is seemingly nothing left, and yet still the ground up powder of affection would be offered as a sacrifice to this mystery.
What is love to you?
You wonder, particularly on nights like this, when a blanket of calm covers the metropolis in which you found yourself, not too dissimilar to a shell being washed up on the shore to encounter a glorious, blazing sun. A twinkling magic on the other side of the glass greets you, and you rest a finger on the coolness, tracing distant shapes of building after building, only to haphazardly wipe it down with the edge of your sleeve. How did you end up in a place where you thought you would never be, feeling what you had sworn you would be unable to feel? 
A gentle melancholy aches in your chest, etching the curves and edges of your ribcage, an incessant little bird, bubbling up that old sense of unease. What is this that you are living in? If you do not know, will it go away? The loud mind, an old friend and enemy, one which had accompanied you through all stages of your life, to find itself equally as bewildered as your heart, but a lot more terrified. Caught between bliss and a painful awareness of the unknown, you walk a tightrope blindfolded.
At least until a hand reaches out for you, warm, reassuring, and guides you across to an oasis. A beating heart, a familiar breath, palm pressed against your upper arm take you out of your spiralling musings, and beckon you to look in the direction of a soft, barely audible whisper of ‘my love’. 
You turn to meet Seonghwa’s eyes, endless pools of glistening brown sugar, enough to both extinguish and ignite, turn dark to light and wrong to right. A timeless poetry is in his face, the rhythm of his features casting a spell over you as you glance over them. These sleepy eyes, stunning nose and cheeks that bear a pinkish hue, plush lips caught in a miniscule pout, dishevelled hair that you know your boyfriend tried to tame, to no avail. You turn your body to meet him fully, and fall into his arms. They envelop you tightly, and you inhale the ghostly remnants of his cologne, a tantalising note of his, and your favourite shampoo, all intricately blended with fabric softener and cotton - put simply, you are home.
“Why aren’t you sleeping, hm?” he asks, voice still a little raspy. It must have been only minutes since he woke up to find you.
“I’m sorry… Did I wake you?”
“Mm… no. Your absence woke me up,” you could cry, not that you would say it, or rather have to say it. Seonghwa knows how his words affect you anyways, judging by the swift squeeze of his arms before he returns to slowly rocking side to side. 
“I just had a lot of thoughts. Wanted to get rid of them somehow.”
“Want to talk about them?” 
You are not sure if you would be able to summon enough courage to talk about what is plaguing you, at least now, in the semi-darkness of yours and his apartment, you feel far too fragile to look inside of the boxes you keep shuffling. Unbeknownst to yourself, you begin to bite your lower lip, trying to pick the right words. Any attempt to formulate whatever excuse you have been seeking inevitably fails as Seonghwa’s lips find yours, erasing your habit, erasing your worry. Caught off-guard, a quiet gasp escapes you, only to be rewarded by an airy chuckle.
“So… not talking, then?” you press your face into the crook of his neck, sensing heat rising on your cheeks. 
“You surprised me, is all…” you trail off, slowly guiding yourself upwards, but still being unable to meet Seonghwa’s gaze.
“I’ll happily kiss all your worries away, if that’s what it takes,” his tone is humorous, and the phrase is light-hearted. His glances into your eyes, at your lips, at the strands of hair that you know he will adjust for you like he usually does, holding promise and commitment. If you so wish, he will. If you so want, he will. If you so will, he most definitely will. 
Your hands grip onto his sleeping shirt as you mumble a thanks, inching closer until your timid smile melts into his. A pleasantly languid rhythm, a moonlit paradise, drawing a masterpiece with your bodies until you are struggling to breathe. An adorable exchange of sweet nothings as you fill your lungs with air, no distinction of space nor time while you are in this trouble-less duet. A small peck on Seonghwa’s lips prompts him to pull you in again, eyes fluttering shut as he floats, flies, soars in love with you. You swear you can see the stars while the taste of his cherry lip balm lingers.
As you follow him back to bed, sinking into the sheets with a sigh, inklings of somnolence settle over your slow-moving intertwined bodies. His breath turns steady, a comforting rise and fall against your back. Seonghwa’s hand is over yours, thumb making random patterns on your skin.
“Dream of me,” he says against your shoulder, grinning when he hears your sharp exhale.
This, this is love to you.
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enjoyed? i would love to hear from you, it means the universe to me. thank you.
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raeinyourdreams · 3 days ago
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'call it what you want.' | l.h x reader
pairings: logan howlett x sway!reader
tags: fluff, no established relationship but.. there's something there, mutant!reader (they call her sway due to her mutation.. i love her i wanna talk ab her someone PLEASE ASK AB HER), AFAB reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, no specific petnames for reader (just bub and her hero name.. gets called kid like twice), no use of y/n, written with x1/x2 logan in mind... sigh... save me x2 logan.. anyway, he gives reader his dog tags before a mission in case he.. you know.. so maybe angst? but only til the very end.
wc: 2k!!
a/n: OKAY SO BOOM! this is my first actual work that's not a drabble and i'm so anxious to post AAHHH, i got the inspo from a post i saw a while ago while fried as fuck from someone requesting a fic ab logan giving reader his dog tags, pref fluffy and angsty so i hope i did ur vision justice OP!! tysm for inspo, my reqs are always open 🫶🏻 also i know this is a very burnt card but if something in the wording is off lmk PLEASEE english isn't my first language 😭 anyway enough yapping plz enjoy!! any type of interaction is appreciated
'just know these are yours now.'
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you've never seen him without his dog tags, he never took them off, not ever since the first time he came into the mansion. you'd been there the first time, you were a teacher in the school, and you'd seen him occasionally roam the halls and stay by the door, listening in on your class, quietly. but very rarely interacted otherwise, just a simple nod or a 'good morning' that he'd return out of good manners, but he'd mostly keep to himself.
you're a teacher. you're the fun teacher. at least that's what your coworkers seemed to agree upon, seeing how your students appeared to leave your classroom more cheerful than they entered. you'd be lying if you said you didn't use your mutation as an advantage in this situation, being able to read your students' moods every day, how they were feeling and why came insanely handy, especially when it came to giving each student the type of care they needed. which is why you were also a student counselor.
on the days you didn't teach, you'd put that psych degree to work and counsel. in your classroom filled with drawings and fairy lights and stained glass that looked straight from a fairytale, and a door you'd lock for privacy as a student came to confide in you.
obviously despite your title, it wasn't only students who'd come to your office to let a feeling go, teachers too, needed a space to blow off some steam, cry a little sometimes, because they knew you'd soothe them in the end, touch your hand feel the pain dissipate, make it seem as if they'd never felt that way.
up until now, only teachers and students seemed to come to you for help. teachers. and students.
so it did surprise you when the wolverine started showing up in your office after coming back.
"must be tiring. to handle others' emotions like your own all day." he'd say, sitting down on a chair, to which you'd playfully roll your eyes and shake your head. "i don't treat them as my own, i just do what i have to do so they feel better." you'd reply, walking towards the door to lock it out of policy. figured that he was here for counseling as well.
"you treat everyone with so much care it seems like it." he said, which made you stop in your tracks, turning heel to face him, your hair cascading on your shoulders and moving ever so softly as you spun. before you could speak, stunned, he asked again.
"don't you get tired? i mean mentally. it must take a toll on you to be around so many emotions all the time." the way he seemed to read you stunned you, he seemed like a very gruff, cold person from the brief interactions you'd had with him before. truth be told, this was the closest you'd been to logan since he came back to the mansion. it's what other people thought of him, anyway.
but you weren't other people, you were different.
the feeling in your body when you perceive others emotions is strange. you could never put it into words. your mutation was mostly contact based, a small brush of the hand was enough to let you know that person's feelings, the reason behind them, what they needed to feel better and it made it easier to help everyone. you could, however, see and feel the emotions, sometimes even smell them if they were too strong, no need for contact necessary.
with logan, you almost didn't need to be in the same room as him to feel the amount of physical, mental, emotional strain he was constantly under, his superhuman body subconsciously tuning it out, making him oblivious to it. once, after a very dangerous mission, he isolated himself in his room for days, his expression cold and unfazed, but every time you'd walk past an area he was in, the emotions hit you like a truck. so strong you even cried over pain that wasn't yours, a life you hadn't lived.
you looked at him sympathetically, taking a deep breath to concentrate less on the seemingly invisible fog around you two as you sat on the chair, your expression calm and collected. "i'm okay, i promise. thank you, logan."
"like hell you are." "neither are you."
he stays quiet at your retaliation, a weak smile forming on his lips, letting you understand that you were right, not that you needed confirmation.
sometimes, when emotions overpower you, you feel compelled to speak, give words of reassurance, even if you didn't quite know if they'd help or not. "logan, you should let people into your heart, stop living in fear.." you blurted out, unsure of why you were telling him this, but you'd learned to not question it and just speak, because it helped to just hear the words sometimes. it certainly did get you a reaction from logan, as the overbearing feelings you were perceiving faded.. briefly, before they slowly crept back into vision.
it was the faintest of reactions, but a reaction at least.
he nodded, taking in the words silently, as if he were contemplating. you remained stoic, analyzing his demeanor out of pure habit. "did.. you come here for counseling?" you asked, suddenly aware that you were still working, and you weren't even sure if he was here for another reason, or if he did need your help. instead, he shook his head, looking at you as if he were conducting an analysis of his own.
"nah, just came to see you.. sway."
a knock on the door interrupted the brewing tension, a gloomy, childlike presence behind the door, to which you looked at logan apologetically. "i'm sorry logan, i have a student to attend.. but think about what i said." you spoke softly, your warm voice reverberating in his ears like a hug.. something he longed for but couldn't bring himself to ask.
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you started seeing him around the classroom more, or rather, he started seeking you out more. in between breaks, before his training, during counseling. it got to a point where your children started greeting him hello and goodbye if he was in the classroom, interacting with him, playing with his hair, always styled like kitty ears. the way he just smiled and let them made something in you bloom, a feeling you couldn't recognize in yourself, but it was pink and warm and fuzzy all over. you couldn't help but wonder if he felt about you this way, too.
slowly, you noticed how, little by little, the gloomy cloud surrounding him would go away when he entered the classroom, how it would be replaced with a pink haze when he looked into your eyes, or made you laugh.. it would quickly fade away, but you'd notice, and noticed how much it resembled that feeling inside you: pink and warm and fuzzy all over.
as time went by, you got used to seeing him around, swinging by your classroom as if it was his haven, a small break from the world he knew, because you were in it. you'd be lying if you said he didn't make you day too, the gloomy atmosphere that once came along with him every time he entered your classroom slowly changing into a lilac haze.
one day, he showed up as the kids were leaving for the day, no colored cloud, but something seemed off. you invited him to sit down as he locked the door after getting in, his expression serene. before you could even speak his hands were on you, pulling you close to him in a hug, and you swore you could feel him shaking slightly. the realization hits you like a bucket of cold water and you just hold him tighter to you, since it feels like the only correct thing to do.
"you're scared."
"no one gets to see me like this, so feel special." said he, almost as if he was confiding a secret in you, which he was.
"oh, trust me, i feel quite special." you replied jokingly, which caused him to let out a chuckle, though it was dull and almost no feeling was tied to it.
you two let go and you asked him what was wrong, and he opened up like it was routine.
"i leave tomorrow. there's a mission out of state and they're asking me to go.. might be off the grid after that for a while." he explained, his voice remained calm but his eyes seemed to reveal to you more of how he was actually feeling.
"i dunno.. thought someone should've known in case.. things go south." your expression changed at that, and logan noticed. "ah, c'mon bub, change that frown, it's just reality. sure, i might be a piece of work to kill but it doesn't mean i can't die."
the silence that fell upon the classroom as you two finished speaking made the words fall with more weight into your heart, it did little to nothing to comfort you as you came to terms with what he said. it shouldn't have been hard - he was just stating a fact -, but it didn't mean that it didn't cut deep for you. you opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what you were even going to say, but he quickly cut you off.
"logan-" "listen, bub, you told me to start letting people into my heart.. i'm letting you in."
slowly, his hands went to unclasp the chain that always dangled on his neck, dog tags adorning his neck with his names, his identities. you looked in awe as he held them out to you. "gimme your hand, kid." and surprisingly, you did as you were told, holding your hand out as he placed the piece on your hand, feeling the cold metal clink softly as it fell and heat up under the temperature of your palm. you looked up at him, unsure of what it meant, of what this changed between you two, but it felt undeniable, even if unspoken.
“now, these.. they’re very special, bub. a reminder of everything that happened that led to here.. and it’s leading me to you right now.” he explained. “feels right for you to have them, i guess.. keep them safe, kid.”
the silence that fell between you two again was more comfortable, filled with a newfound tension that left much to question, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt with all that noise yet. the only sound filling the room was the breathing and a faint humming of the white noise machine you kept in your room, next by the door. you opened up your mouth again, your mind utterly blank and filled with thoughts and questions at the same time, unsure of which one was going to breach through your mind to materialize out in the cold, tense air.
“.. why me? trust me, i’m flattered, but i’m no one special, logan..” you questioned, and it made him frown.
“you are special. you're special to me.” your eyes widened at the confession and you watched as a soft smile settled on his face, one that made your heart flutter with the sheer tenderness he held in his gaze. “call it what you want.. just know these are yours now.” he said it so calmly, you wouldn't have tought he was handing you his heart, placing it in soft, tender hands and pleading you to not break it, not change it, and instead embrace it and accept it as it came, rough around the edges.
with that, he stood up from the chair, took your hand to squeeze it briefly, and walked out of the room, not before looking back at you one last time, the heaviness that he carried as he entered the room seemingly gone, all that you could perceive was a haze, all too familiar, one that left as quick as it came as his eyes met yours.
pink, warm, and fuzzy all over.
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additional author's note: BOOM SHAKALAKA I POSTED FINALLY!! i think it's a little rushed BUT!! it's cause i have a (smutty) part 2 planned for this HEHEJEHE i don't like writing (or reading) series bcs i get sad when they end but i just might.... hehehe... anyway pls lmk what u think!! or i kill off logan 🥰🥰 your choice 🥰🥰
taglist: @allen-444
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drewsbraziliangf · 22 hours ago
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funny seeing you here | Drew Starkey x black!fem reader
summary: after seven months of not seeing his face, you find yourself at the same party he’s at. And he clearly made it his mission to be noticed by you. So what are you gonna do now?
warnings: alcohol consumption, suggestive smut
a/n: Here's part 3 of nothing to say when heaven falls. As the title called it, it was 100% inspired by ‘funny seeing you here’ by Jack Harlow which I recommend listening to during the reading. Comments and reblogs are never required but always very much appreciated 🫶🏻
dividers by: @/saradika-graphics
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"Hey," he said and you could barely hear the smile on his voice. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."
No escape.
"Hi," you replied with a low voice, unsure if he had heard it over the loud music. "Yeah, I'm with Frankie."
"Uh, yeah, I saw her," he voices as he scoots slightly closer to you. "This does look more like her scene."
At that, you nod and mentally curse the fifth generation of this damned bartender who has yet to finish your drinks.
Everything around you is spiraling at this point. You were not ready for this, especially with how casual he's being about everything. It was not in your plans to run into him tonight and all you wanted was to get as far away from him as you could.
Your salvation comes in the shape of your friend, who you can see right past her excitement about how much she just wanted to take you out of that situation. She held your arm lightly and, it was as if you weren't waiting for almost ten minutes the bartender returned with both your drinks.
"Hey, uhm, what's taking so long?" Frankie says and pretends to be shocked when she looks up at Drew. "Oh hey! Long time, no see." As the words leave her mouth you notice how the stiff smile on her face shows her displeasure at his presence.
"Hi Frankie," he says a little taken back by her and you notice how he starts tapping his fingers against the glass the same way you were doing moments ago. A shared habit that the both of you didn't get to brush off of one another it seems.
"Let's go, babes! I still have so much to tell you."
With your drinks at hand, you followed her and immediately felt a weight fall off of your shoulders. Still, you weren't able to hold back and you looked over your shoulder just to see him checking you out.
Your face was burning after that and you just prayed to whatever God that Frankie was able to distract you enough to make you not act on the alcohol in your veins.
It wasn't a secret to anyone the effect that he had on you. I mean you were together for years and about to get married - obviously, you had to be attracted to him. And he just had this thing about him that made it very hard for you to ignore.
He looked handsome, but that was no surprise. He always looked so fine, except this time it seemed like he had filled out more. The black shirt he was wearing fitted him perfectly, the sleeves stretched around his biceps, and even from a glimpse you were able to notice how much bigger they were since you last saw him. His outgrown hair now looked more like a growing mullet and, god, that did work with him. At this point, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your brain talking about how insanely good he looked.
“Y/N, honey, you good?” She asked once the both of you got back to your spot.
“Yeah, yeah. Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” You retorted to which she just stared at you with uncertainty.
“I don’t- I don’t know, you just looked like you were about to vanish in thin air back there,” she voices smoothly still looking at you.
“Yeah, I uh, I guess I just wasn’t expecting that to happen,” you confess.
She nods and sips on her drink, her own eyes scanning the room this time, and once she looks up at you once more you see a glimpse of regret there.
“I didn’t know. Had I known I wouldn’t have brought you here,” She declares with sorrow and you shake your head quickly.
“Hey, I know that! Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
At that, neither of you is sure enough.
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You could feel that it was way past one in the morning, the air just felt different. The party was less crowded but the music was still blaring through the speakers. Frankie was entertained in a talk with a tall dark-skinned man who was whispering in her ear every now and then earning giggles from the brunette.
You had been nursing the drink in your hand for a while now, the condensation around the glass caused your fingertips to be wet. You were much more drunk than you’d normally get, but for once in a long time it felt good to let yourself go.
Still the numbness the alcohol brought, did not evade the feeling of what happened earlier. It had been so long since the last time and you were not expecting to see him like that. What would’ve happened if Frankie had not interrupted him? What would you have done?
“Hey,” You heard Frankie’s voice closer to your ear this time, “Would you mind if I left for a while? I promise I’ll be back and you won’t even notice.”
It amazed you that even with the amount of drinks she had, her pleading eyes didn’t fail to convince you. And honestly, she needed to have fun with the hot guy as well. So with a nod you sent her off watching her excitement as she followed him.
At least you were alone with your thoughts and could think and rethink everything, from your coffee orders to your love life as you downed the last of your blue coloured drink. But as if they were trying to prove a point, the spot next to you did not remain empty for long.
The same cologne that woke forbidden memories hours ago was flooding your space once again but this time it was subtle. Almost as if it was fading and taking with it your sanity.
“I thought we’d never get the chance to talk again,” was what he said and it didn’t take you long to notice that he too was a few drinks in.
Guess this isn’t a sober conversation, huh.
“I’d rather if it stays like that,” you mumbled as you watched him push a bottle of cold water towards you.
“Come on, this is a quieter spot. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now,” He leans in, just like Trent did with Frankie.
It felt so weird being close to him like this after so long. It felt like getting something you’ve wanted for so long but you were scared that you got the wrong thing. Does that even make sense?
“How's your sister and your niece?” You asked since there was no escape.
“They’re fine. Both of them, Lily still cries a lot but they’re good,” he voices as he sips from his own drink.
You unscrew the water bottle and take a big gulp out of it. Why were your hands so sweaty now? You didn’t have an answer to that so you just nodded and looked around the room as less and less people filled the dance floor and the bar.
“You look beautiful,” his compliment breaks the silence and goes straight to those confusing thoughts you were having. You have to control yourself. “I thought a lot before talking to you earlier, but I just couldn’t help myself when you looked like this. So pretty”
Even with his sweet words you couldn’t forget who he was and the history between the two of you. It was hard because even if you denied it a part of you still missed him so much. I mean, you shared years of your life with him so it isn’t that easy to ignore how much his absence affects you sometimes.
“What are you doing here, Drew?” The words leave your mouth before you could even process the thought.
He doesn’t say anything for a while and you finally look at him. His hair was slightly darker than it was months ago, the low cut shirt he is wearing gives you a peak of his chest hair and some freckles he has there. Looking into his eyes made your blood freeze for a second, it was like you were drowning in the bluest sea.
He scratched his overgrown beard while he looked down at the cup he was drinking from.
“I miss you,” He confesses with a sigh.
You shake your head as you set the water bottle back on the table.
“No, you can’t do this now,” You say and pray that he can hear you over the music. “Not after everything.”
“I-I fucked up and I know that,” he admits and that makes you feel dizzy. “I want to make things right between us.”
“Oh, now? You don’t even know if I have someone,” you scoff. “How’s Odessa by the way?”
“I wouldn’t know. It’s been a while since I last talked to her,” he says.
“Well so it’s best if I look over your shoulder since she might pop up from thin air,” your snide remark doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not here to talk about anyone else but us. So can we please do that? Let’s find somewhere where we can actually talk because you just left and I know that what I did was the radon to that, but still.”
Your eyes met his for the second time that night and without much thought you found yourself nodding. You texted Frankie letting her know that you’d be getting an Uber home so she didn’t have to worry about you and in the next second you were following your ex out of the club.
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It didn’t shock you that he was still living in the apartment you used to share. It looked almost the same just a few new pieces of furniture decorating the space and you couldn’t help but ask yourself if she had helped him to pick them out.
“Do you, uhm, wanna drink something?” He asked after he locked the door behind you.
“Yeah, I could use a glass of water.”
“Okay, lemme get that for you,” he says and walks to the kitchen.
You stay in the living room and take it all in. Why does his house feel this warm? Why did you feel comfortable in a place you chose to leave? Why wasn’t this freaking you out anymore? Before you could begin to dwell in any of those questions, his footsteps against the wooden floor pulled you from your thoughts.
“Here,” he hands you the filled glass.
“Thanks,” you say before taking a small sip from it.
“So, how have you been?” He asks and you can see that he immediately regrets it, “Fuck that’s a stupid question.”
You can’t help but chuckle at that and he quickly follows suit.
“I am okay. I’ve been worse, I’ve been better” you admit to which he only nods.
“I felt like shit, you know? I knew I was fucking up but I was so entranced by everything that was happening that I didn’t realize how much it was affecting you,” he says as he leans against the wall.
“It wasn’t easy for me to come up to you and say those things but I was so fed up that I didn’t know what to do anymore,” you admit as you take a step closer to him without even realising.
“I’m sorry. I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t care about you or your feelings.”
“I guess I just didn’t want to be an intruder in our own relationship. There was a point where I felt like I needed to talk to her to get to you. And I know there is history between you two, I just didn’t want to doubt that there was still something going on.”
You sigh as one of your fingers traced the rim of the glass.
“I mean, there were a few times that I called your phone and she was the one picking it up. That made me feel so insecure and so scared that I was being lied to.”
“I-what? I didn’t know that.” He truly seemed surprised by your words.
“Well,” you scoff as you shake your head, “I guess she never told you that I called you then.”
You turn around and put the glass on the centre table. He simply watched you and even if he might not admit it yet seeing you in his house again made something in chest warm. Something in him just told him that you belonged there.
“You see, this is what I am talking about.” You add without turning to look at him. “This shouldn’t be normal.”
“I really didn’t know and when I looked at my calls registry your name wasn’t there so I assumed she was telling the truth.”
He did feel guilty about that, but he wasn’t lying. He truly didn’t know of that happenstance.
You sigh and you look back at him, your eyes burning as you feel a deep sense of deja vu.
“I really thought you were it for me, you know?” You confess and a tear streams down your face.
As if it was a reflex thing, he immediately reaches for you and wipes the tear off your face.
“I am so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that,” he says looking into your eyes.
You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the vulnerability that enveloped the both of you, but you couldn’t help more tears from following that first one. It felt so calming to be talking about this with him after so long, like a ton was being taken out of your chest. Obviously you had people to talk to but it wasn’t the same.
You rested your head on his shoulder as his hands were on the back of your neck. He went in for the first touch, his lips kissed the top of your head. That made you tense up for a second and as you looked up your gaze was immediately captured by his.
His nose touched yours first and as he leaned in for your lips, you couldn’t help but pull back. That happened twice more and you knew that he was frustrated but you were just so scared of opening up to him again.
“Please,” he begs with a breathy voice and as you look into his eyes you are able to see the same man you fell in love with years ago.
After that you didn’t resist anymore and his lips quickly found yours.
Oh.
One of his hands cradled your face as he deepened the kiss and the other was occupied squeezing the softness of your hips. Now, you could’ve lied to yourself about many things, but this was never one of them. He knew exactly where to touch you and how to do it.
You pressed your body against his and the sigh that left your lips when you felt his bulge pressed on your stomach. He moaned on your lips at the pressure and in a blink of an eye you had your legs wrapped around him.
He now held you with one of his arms as he guided the both of you towards the bedroom. His lips didn’t leave yours, the only time he broke the kiss was when he pulled your lower lip between his teeth, but in the next second he was devouring them again.
When he reached the bedroom he didn’t bother to close the door. He laid you on the bed and you breathlessly watched him pull his shirt off with one hand before he knelt between your legs.
Please God, don’t make me regret this.
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madamechrissy · 1 day ago
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Keep This Low Key
💜 Pairings: Choso x Fem reader- Rating: Explicit- MDNI
💜 Contents/Warnings: Choso has a tongue ring for reasons... oh and a dick piercing for other reasons. In this chapter, blow jobs, fingering, cunnilingus, explicit sex, semi public sex, lots of confusion, jealousy happening, friends w/benefits
💜 Word Count: this chap - 10.6k
💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?
No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?
✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated ✨️
Chapter One 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜
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Chapter Two
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Your POV
You wake up the next morning in a strong pair of arms, with a thigh pressed up between your thighs, you flush when you realize where you were, in your best friend’s arms. Arms the squeeze you just a little tighter, his breath hot on your neck, tickling you and making you tremble, then he shifts his thigh, and fuck it’s pressed even more, and you’re arching up for it without thinking.
He moans softly, you feel his long dark lashes fluttering against your cheek, you are tense against him. “Mmm, g’morning.” He mumbles, burying his head back in the crook of your neck.
“G’morning, Cho.” You say softly, he pulls you even closer now, pecking little kisses down your neck, it feels way too good, too natural.
Not once had you felt like this.
Was it because you’ve known him like the back of your hand forever? Possibly, not having to worry if you look good, if you’re done up enough, to just be a little bit of a mess next to him was so comfortable. But also, it didn’t feel odd in his arms, you’d knocked right out, and now you feel that same thrill you did last night, remembering the pleasure he gave you.
You’re blushing now, cheeks hot, vivid images of his dark hair between your thighs, those violet eyes as his tongue ring had done wicked things. You’re getting wet just thinking of it, and he tenses himself behind you, arm tightening, his breath catching in his throat. You’re sure he can tell, making you embarrassed.
“You’re so hot there.” He whispers, and you cry out just a bit when he presses up once more, your hand clutches the pillow under it tightly.
“I’m sorry, I think I’m…”
“Sorry, for what? Being sexy.” Fuck you adore your best friend, his kisses against your neck turning hotter, his mouth opening, tongue lapping at you, making you shiver with desire, coursing down your body. You shift, and he moans again. “Fuck.”
“Sorry!” You cover your face, and he gently pulls your hand down, turning your face to look at him.
“Stop apologizing. Do you want me to get her off again?”
“Fuck, yes. But I wanna do things to you.”
“You can get me later.” He says, pressing up once more, and now you’re shamelessly rubbing on his thigh. “Oh my god, fuck.”
“Choso…” You whisper, eyes dropping to his lips, glossy as he licks them slowly, a big hand pressing against your tummy.
“Let me get you off, angel.” You shake your head, making him smile a bit, running his fingers down your tummy, rolling against your clit now, pressing his thigh up further, you’re bare aside from his big shirt, dripping down his sweats. “Oh my god, you feel so good, you’re this wet for me?”
“Shush, supposed to be… friends…”
“Friends who fuck, hmm?” You nod weakly, eyes fluttering shut at his gentle circles, as you keep grinding on his thigh helplessly. “So then I can talk to you like that, if you want.”
“I want.” Is all you manage, getting wetter and wetter as your hips move, his fingers hitting the perfect rhythm, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“Then let me tell you how good you feel against me.” He pulls his thigh back then, you whine out at the loss. “Aw, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs, so fucking sexy, your silly Cho Bear, it wrecks your mind.
Now he is pressing his cock against your back, you feel how hard and thick he is, when he grabs a thigh and brings it high over his leg, and plunges two fingers in your pussy now. You’re pouring more all over his fingers, weakly crying out at how good it feels, reaching a hand back to grip his hair, pulling his lips to yours as you turn your head back to him.
He moans, still fingering you so good you can’t stand it, you want so much more, especially that thick cock against you, fuck it felt so big, you ache to see it, to feel it. Choso’s tongue ring hits your own tongue, clicking gently against your teeth, as you suck on it playfully, earning more of his moans, more of his fingers.
“Close, Cho… m’close.” You whisper, and he looks at you with those dilated eyes, fingerfucking you faster, scissoring his fingers in and out, you’re so close you shatter at it, and he’s watching as your eyes roll back, as your mouth is open, you think you must look so dumb-
“Oh, you’re so pretty.” He says instead, and you begin to climax, it washes all over your body, you’re pulsing around his long fingers now, and he eases, slipping them out to toy with your clit, making you jerk.
“Sensitive.” Your voice is faint, you’re reaching behind you to find him, earning his own moan, his eyes fluttering shut, he keeps torturing your clit, until you’re close again, this time overstimulated. “Do you um, wanna fuck? Or want me to suck you?”
“Both, and add wanna eat you again.” You giggle breathlessly.
“You’re a freak, Cho Bear.”
“You really haven’t seen much freak yet, angel. But you’re so cute and nervous, I love you like this.” He brings his fingers to your lips, and you are sucking yourself off of him, stroking him over his sweats as he bucks into your palm. “You sure you wanna have sex today, we can wait. I don’t mind.”
“We’re friends with benefits, Cho.”
“Benefits are you looking pretty in my arms.” You melt then, fuck he’s perfect, and fuck Yuki is a fool.
“Choso you’re gonna snatch someone up so quick, perfect ass.”
“And look at you.”
“A hot mess.” He chuckles, shaking his head, you turn then, body still reacting to his touch, to the pleasure he gave you, you’ve got him on his back now, your hair falling half out of your loose ponytail. He smiles, gently shaking it out, running his hand through it.
He’s seen you a million times in this state, but somehow you find yourself worrying a bit, what does he think, Yuki was always so put together…
“You’re so pretty in the morning. Even with this mess.” He teases, pulling your hair softly, and watching you cry out hungrily, tattooed hands sliding down your arms now, before he’s reaching for that shirt, pulling it flush against your body.
“Are you ready for my amazing skills?” You tease, trying to shove down the feeling of being so into him, of loving everything about this too much already.
“I’m ready, show me what you got.”
“As a friend.”
He snorts. “Best friend. Oh… mmm…” He lets out this soft cry when you’re sliding down his sweats, and he’s so thick, his cock is so sexy it alone has you pulsing all over again. Especially when you see it.
“Cho… do you have…”
“Oh, it won’t hurt you, promise.” He says softly, when you see there is a piercing on the underside of his cock, right under his tip, two silver balls on either side of a barbell. You’re flustered as you study it, and Choso gets flustered as you do. “Is it… like weird or-”
“No, no! It’s really hot. Um… just didn’t know… they pierced these? Did it hurt at all?”
“No, it won’t hurt if you play with it either, don’t worry.” He gently takes your hand, putting it on it now, you feel your tummy clenching as you touch it, the skin thin over the piercing, and he moans softly.
“Does it feel good there?” He nods eagerly, urging you on as you study him, the room is dimly lit by the morning sun peeking through the blinds, casting a warm glow over Choso’s toned body. He’s gorgeous as fuck you think, especially the little blush on his cheeks when you stroke him once softly, tentatively.
“Tell me what you like, Cho bear. Like I did.” You tease, your hands are shaking slightly as you wrap your fingers around his thickness, stroking him gently, feeling him thicken.
“I would like you kissing me anywhere.” He says then, his big hands sliding up your shirt, sliding against your bare skin, making your breath catch. “I’d also love to see your pretty body again.”
“Oh yeah?” You giggle, sighing. “I’m not very sexy.”
“I disagree.”
“I’m awkward, Cho. But here.” You go to pull up his shirt now, letting it slide up off your head, falling to the bed next to you, and he eagerly grips your breasts, squishing them before you pull away. “Let me kiss you all over then.”
“Please.” His breathy reply urges you on, and he exhales as you kiss down his neck, your mouth tracing the line of his collarbone, down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, smelling the heady scent of him. Something warm and intoxicating. He’s watching you, eyes full of desire, when you kiss a flat brown nipple his hands dig into your hair. “Sorry…”
“Cho, I don’t mind.” You say with a little smile, kissing down his chest, your hands sliding back down, one finding his cock again, as you kiss further and further, feeling the flutter of nerves as you do. You’d done this before, but you wanna do such a good job, Choso looked thrilled about it all, which melts you.
He’s now gently stroking your cheek, not listening to you, instead of pulling on your hair. “So pretty.”
You hide your pleased little smile, kissing further down, now holding his thick length, fuck he’s so big it’s intimidating, he has precum dripping out of the little hole on his tip, your thumb swirls it around, his hips buck up just at that. “Cho, you’re so big, you sure that’ll fit?”
“I’ll make it fit, don’t worry.” He says, he’s so sweet you think, as you’re studying his perfect features, the straight nose, the bow of his lips. “I will have you so ready, you are really tight though.”
“Gonna stretch me out, Cho?” When your mouth reaches the tip of his cock, you give it a tentative lick, and he gasps, you taste the salty but sweet sticky liquid there, taking more of his tip in then.
He gasps, his hand coming to the back of your head, entangling in your hair now, his moans urging you on. “Feels so good.”
“Mmm.” You take him in your mouth now, feeling the hot skin stretched tight over his hardness with your tongue. Choso’s moans fill the room, urging you on as you bob your head, finding a rhythm now, and he’s a mess under you.
“S’good, s’good, you’re… yes, please, there.” He is muttering in a little mantra, his eyes never leaving yours, so dilated they look black now, you pull up just a bit with a pop, Choso’s thumb traces your lips. “You look so pretty like this.”
“You can push me on it if you want.”
“No! I can’t. You’re too… cute and… I don’t want to hurt you…”
“Choso, stop. You won’t. Push a little.” He tentatively puts his hand on the back of your head now, pushing up, his hips rock slightly, fucking your mouth. You moan around him, loving the feeling of him fucking you deeper.
“Are you okay?” You nod around his length, and he’s fucking up harder, you hear the sound of your suction mixing with his sexy sounds. “That’s it, you’re so good.”
All his praise gets you so wet, and you are sucking him deeper, eager to taste him fully, to make him feel the same way he made you feel last night. Your mouth takes him in, inch by inch, feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue, which darts across the barbell on the underside of his thick cock.
You never minded oral, but something about tasting him makes you love it, you could do it forever if it wasn’t for the tenseness in your jaw. You breathe out your nose, relaxing your throat now, eating up the way he responds to every movement you make. His hands are in your hair now, not guiding but holding, as if he can't get enough of the sight of your lips wrapped around him.
You take him deep as you can, your throat tightening around him, he gasps, hips bucking up. “Don’t do too much!”
You laugh a bit, pulling back. “I’m good, promise. I like it.”
“Fuck you’re hot.” You giggle again, he’s just so sweet. You swirl your tongue around the tip, licking off the precum that's leaking out, and you notice Choso's thighs are trembling, his abs tightening as you suck him, and you know he's close, you can feel him getting even thicker.
With a final moan, he pulls you off, and you look up at him, eyes watering slightly, your lips swollen from your efforts. "Let me finish.”
“No, I want to feel you, please." He says, his voice hoarse, and you nod, feeling your heart skip a beat at the thought. He flips on top of you now, licking a thumb and rubbing your clit, and you're wet and ready, panting for him.
“You don’t have to, I’m so ready.” You plead, Choso’s eyes get lidded, continuing his little circles, making you whine out for him, reaching down and stroking him once more.
“You’re really tiny.”
“I can stretch.”
“Not very angelic.” He says, teasingly, and you both giggle nervously. He slips two fingers inside you, groaning out as he does. “You’re so wet. From sucking me? How…”
You slide your hands up to cup his face. “Because it’s hot, just like how you got hard eating me out.”
He kisses you again, and you drown in those kisses, your friend’s lips shouldn’t feel this good, should they? You shove that out of your mind, you’re both inexperienced, one partner doesn’t mean you all suddenly can just fuck. Of course you wanted to feel more, casual sex isn’t something you’re used to yet.
That and Choso’s lips are plush, his fingers are thick, his body is hot… he’s perfect, and you’re craving him more than anything. You’re rolling your hips up for more, more, more of him, he breaks that kiss, leaning up, a little trail of saliva between your lips for just a moment, before studying you. So intense you’re blushing again.
He takes his fingers out, sucking on them again, off his black nails, as if you’re the yummiest treat. “Do you want to… use a…”
“Oh, y-yeah. Sure?” He laughs softly then, brushing your hair gently, leaning on an elbow over you.
“You’re so cute.”
“You’re cute, Cho bear.”
“Hmm…” He kisses you once more, leaning over to his nightstand, pulling out a row of magnum condoms, and you blush further. “Is everything okay? If you change your mind please tell me. We can-”
“No, no! Um. I’m ready. I want to.” You lean up on your elbows, watching him while nibbling your lower lip. “I just can’t believe we are doing this?”
“I know it’s like some dream from high school.” You giggle a bit.
“I know, though my dreams weren’t this… wild.”
“No?” He’s tearing the condom with his teeth, pulling it out and putting it at the tip of his cock now, you sit up a bit, grabbing it, catching his eyes.
“Let me.” He nods, that pink back on his cheeks, letting you gently roll the condom down his length, his cock twitches as you touch it. “My dreams in high school of you were us just making out.”
“You really dreamt of that?” He asks softly, and you nod, looking away, embarrassed to say such things. He grabs your face gently. “Hey… don’t get shy about it. I liked you too, remember?” You nod again. “Let me get some lube, it may be uncomfy with a condom.”
“Oh, I’m more than wet enough.” You say with a blush, but he’s laying you back down, kissing your tummy, before he’s spreading your thighs, and spits right on your pussy. “Oh!”
“So sexy.” He murmurs, licking you and spreading the spit all around your clit, your lips, your entrance. You grip his hair tightly, yanking on him.
“Fuck me, please.” He leans up quickly, his tip pressing against your little entrance, and you gasp, eyes locking on his. He has one hand pressing your thigh up, the other cupping your face.
“I’ll do anything when you ask so sweetly.” He teases, kissing you again, pressing deeper. You gasp, clinging to his bare back with your nails, he hisses a bit as they press in, leaving little half moons on his skin. “Oh my… oh my god. Are you okay!?”
You nod weakly, as he’s stretching you, pressing deeper, and stretching you out, then you feel it, the piercing, dragging on your walls, making you gasp. “Oh my… oh my god…”
“Fuck let me prep you more.” He goes to pull up, you pull him down, shaking your head, rolling your hips up.
“No, no, please do that again!” He takes a shaky breath, pulling out and then pressing back in, hitting some spot again that has your eyes rolling back. “More, please, more!”
“Anything you want, pretty. Oh you feel so tight, mmm.” He whispers, pulling out and pushing back in, fucking you with just half of his cock, but it feels so good you’re shattering, especially when his hand slides up to grip your wrists, and he pumps quicker.
“There, there!” He drags his piercing against your spot again, making you cum so hard it’s stupid, then you’re pulsing around him, soaking his length, making him slip in easier and easier. “Choso!”
“Mmm, good girl. Feel you cumming on me.” He whispers, your eyes open with a gasp, your hands weakly reaching up for him, digging into his slender hips, he’s kissing you gently, your cheeks, your eyes, letting you catch a breath. “Can you take more, angel? Or want me… half in.”
“I can do it.” He smiles a bit, shoving in then, and you gasp as he hits your cervix, so fucking deep you can’t stand it, you feel so full, so full of him. “Mmm!”
“Mmm…” You both moan into each other’s mouths as he lets you adjust to the sensation, as he feels so good this deep, tip kissing your cervix. He leans up and kisses you messy now, desperate, pulling back and pushing back in, stuffing your cunt so full of him, you’re dripping everywhere, getting wetter and wetter. “Feel s’good…”
“You… feel… so… ah!” You cry out as he’s fucking into you harder, mouth wide open, back arching.
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll slow down…”
“No, no, more. More.” He groans now over you, fucking into you harder, and your cunt eagerly sucks him in, his tip and that damn ring dragging along your fluttering walls under the thin layer of latex. “M’cumming!”
Choso shoves a leg up now, over his shoulder, fucking so deep you fall off that edge, cumming even harder, and he sucks in a breath as you do, feeling you clench around him so tightly. He’s kissing your ankle, your leg, his free hand pressing down on your hips, pinning you to the bed as you ride out your second orgasm from his cock, already weak.
“Can I go faster, please? You feel s’good I can’t take it.” He whispers softly, brows furrowed, you nod eagerly, then he’s fucking into you hard, skin smacking, the squishing sound of your pussy mixing with both of your cries. “Oh fuck you’re pretty, s’pretty angel…”
“Cho…” You’re sobbing as he enters you, over and over, wrecking everything you are, your mind can’t even function as he works you, your hands gripping the sheets, eyes struggling to focus on his handsome face, on his abs flexing. He fucks you so deep it hurts finally. “Ah!”
“Shit, sorry, sorry.” He leans down, only stretching your leg further, pulling his hips back and cupping your face. “Are you o-okay!?”
“Yes, yes, keep going.”
“We should…”
“Cho, I love it. Okay?” He exhales, kissing you softly, leaning up again and starting to fuck you at the same pace, then when he hurts you again, it’s like you’re craving it, that pain of him bruising that cervix. “Y-yes, mmm!”
“You s-sure?” He asks softly, his voice breaking with a moan.
“M’sure, yes, please. Go hard.” He does as you ask, fucking you deep and rough now, and your body lights up for it, he’s easing your thigh down now, gripping your throat with his tatted hand, so big, as he moves between your thighs.
“You’re so pretty like this.” He says softly, squeezing gently, thumb right on your pulse, that’s fluttering under his touch. “Can I choke your pretty neck?”
“Yes, yes. Please.” You have no clue what the fuck you’re doing, all you know is his huge length pounding in your pussy is driving you insane, his hand is squeezing, he’s looking how pretty you are with his hand on your throat, licking his glossy lips as he works you slower, squeezing.
“God you’re sexy. Tap me if it’s too much.” You nod a bit, then he’s squeezing harder as he fucks you, violet eyes drinking you in, lashes lowered, fucking into you with deep, strong strokes. Your pussy struggles to take him, stretched beyond her means, but you crave it, along with the bliss of him squeezing.
You’re weakly whining out as he squeezes more and more, you watch the tattoos down his body move with his muscles flexing, watch as he is staring down at your pussy, exhaling.
“She’s taking me so well. You’re so good f’me.” He says, squeezing harder and pressing in, rolling his hips just so, the tightness in your tummy builds, so much pressure, you’re cumming again, and now you’re barely able to make a sound, he’s squeezing so tight.
You’re getting fuzzy, the orgasm sapping the last breaths you had, to the point Choso is blurring, your face is getting so flush as he squeezes, big hands taking your throat over completely. The thrill of it, the fuzzy, floating feeling, mixing with the orgasm is overwhelming, you’re fading until he lets you go, carefully laying on you, brushing his fingers along your neck as you suck in air.
“I said tap, you were about to… mmm… you’re so tight how!?” You giggle, breathless, earning a cute glare.
“I could pass out, you’d wake me.” You tease, then gasp as he shoves his cock in so deep it hurts, the pressure, the fullness, bottoming out and stuffing you. “Cho!”
“You are giggling?” You shake your head, dying for this version of your sweet best friend, the one fucking you stupid. “Good. Why don’t you cum again?”
“Make me.”
“Make you.” He laughs softly, shaking his head, taking your hand then, sliding it down your tummy. “You rub that pretty little clit.”
“Yes Sir.” You tease, but you watch the effects on his face, watch his jaw drop open, his eyes fluttering shut when you rub your clit, soaking wet and slippery. “Mmm… want yours.”
“So greedy, aren’t you angel?” You smile, but the smile is cut off when he takes your fingers, sucking on them, rubbing your clit insted, leaning back on his knees, you’re screaming so goddamn loud you’re sure his neighbors here. “No more laughing.”
“N-no more.” You manage to squeak out, eyes rolling back, hips bucking up when he fucks into you, thrusts harder, his balls smacking against your ass, while he’s rubbing that clit like he’s always known you. “Ah!”
“That’s it. One more time. Please.” You’re too far into it not to, cumming so intensely you’re blinded again, hands in fists on his sheets, orgasm washing over you in waves. You’re trembling and gasping when he’s leaning over you, his heavy weight pressed against you. “Good girl.”
“Choso you’re making me dumb.” You whisper, tears falling from how much he’d made you cum, he cups your face, shaking his head.
“Never, too smart.”
“Cho…”
“I’m close, do you want me to stop?”
“No! No… cum, please. Cum.” He nods gently, kissing you now, one of his hands entwining with yours, sucking your breath away, you’re surrounded by nothing but Choso. It’s so fucking intimate tears fall, he gasps as he leans back, his head tilting up, showing that adam’s apple bobbing.
“You’re so hot, you’re so perfect, you- ah! Mmm!” Choso’s cock thickens, and you  feel pulsing inside his condom, as his cock gets hotter inside of you, and his pumping slows, gently now, as he looks back at you. You’re trembling, kissing him though your tears, which he now notices, brushing them aside. “Did I hurt you angel?”
“No, no. Not at all.” You takes several breaths, and he rests his forehead on yours now. It all feels too good. This shouldn’t feel this good!?
Is this what sex was?
Or was this sex with Choso?
“What’s wrong!? Please tell me. I’ll fix it.” He whispers, kissing your tears, which just pour more at how sweet he is. You shake your head.
“No, it was so perfect, it just… was intense? And got me… emotional. How embarassing, ugh-”
“No, it’s not at all!” He swipes your tears away, and you look up at him with trembling lips. “You are just feeling a lot. Was this too soon from your breakup?”
You laugh softly. “I haven’t thought of him actually all morning. Is that awful of me?”
“No, it’s not.” He eases out of you, and you hiss a bit at it. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you, she looks all swollen.” He frowns then, running his fingers down your pussy lips, all puffy from him. You feel them throb in response.
“No, no, I’m just still new at this. And you’re really big.” You blush as you look at his cock, with the condom half on, the white cum pooling at the tip, and so very much of it too.
“I hope you wanna do it again. I swear next time-”
“Cho, stop. Fucking loved it. Tears of cumming a lot. Swear.” He smiles big then, and you melt, melt too much, surely. “I’ve never felt like that.”
“Me either-”
“Choso, you liked fucking. Don’t say that just to say it.” You sit up a bit then, looking for your shirt, as you worry then, what must your inadequacies be? Ino had no issue leaving you-
“Hey, hey.” He slides your shirt over your head, rubbing your shoulders gently, frowning now as he looks at you. “I mean it. You’re so beautiful, you feel so good around me, I came so hard-”
“Don’t say all that.” You swipe at your eyes, and Choso sighs, turning and giving you a view of his insanely muscled back, his round little ass, you see the tattoo that runs down his neck, twigs entwining down his muscles. Fuck he’s perfect.
“I told you, I say what I mean.” He says softly, turning back to you, and you are standing nervously.
“You loved Yuki.”
“I thought I was falling. Yeah. But… I don’t know. She’s not on my mind.” He cups your face, bringing you close now.
“Friends can feel like that?”
“Do you want more?”
“Cho… we said…”
“Yeah.” He blinks a bit, and you both stand there awkwardly.
“I should go.”
“What!?” Choso stops you now, pulling your back against him, and years of feelings pour in, overtaking you. All those years you both pined for others, always just missing each other, that’s how it was supposed to be, right? “Don’t leave, I’ll really think I hurt you.”
“You didn’t. You couldn’t hurt me.”
He kisses your neck, exhaling. “Do you not wanna do this again? Is it too weird with how close we are?”
“No, no! I love it. Um… I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You’re swiping more tears, as you realize you could have been doing this, and that nothing has ever felt more right. But you now know Choso clearly… “You did it a lot, Cho?”
“Um… yeah. A lot.” You turn then, looking back up at him. “Is that bad?”
“No! No… you seem really good at everything. I don’t think I am.”
“What? You-”
“I didn’t do anything but lay there!”
“You’re being silly. Stop it.” He picks you up now, throwing you on the bed, and begins tickling you, making you gasp.
“Stop!”
“When you stop being mean to yourself. Better be nice, you’re my best friend. Hah!” He gets you right under your breasts, and you laugh so hard you can barely breathe, wriggling under him.
“Mercy!”
“Mmm, thought so.” He stops, leaning over you, and you brush his hair back with a shaky hand. “I wanna do that all the time.”
“Fuck me?” You whisper.
“Oh God yes, in every position. You know you blush all over?”
“Hey!” You’re giggling and he leans down, then pauses. You both look at each other, the room silent now aside from Choso’s fan whirring and your labored breaths. “What is it?”
“I don’t want to lose you, ever.”
You blink emotions back. “Oh Cho… you won’t.”
“Promise me?” He holds up a pinky, you smile softly, taking his pinky in yours, curling them together. “If it ever gets too much, if it will fuck up our friendship, you have to tell me.”
“I swear I will. I’m just… new to this. I’m sorry I cried.”
“Don’t you apologize.” He kisses you gently, leaning up. “We said just around sex, the kissing, yeah?”
“Y-yeah. I guess we did.” He pulls away with a sigh, and helps you up now, hugging you tightly, kissing your head as he always has, like a friend.
A friend.
A friend with a huge cock.
A friend with a tongue that’s…
Stop that!
“Let’s get your clothes from your place and get coffee? Yeah bestie?” He asks with a smile, and you nod shyly now. “Bestie with the tightest pussy-”
“Cho!”
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Choso’s POV
Five days later- Friday Night
Choso hasn’t been able to get you off his mind all week, now he is tuning his guitar, next to Yuji and Megumi, prepping for their show tonight. Choso sees Megumi as his other little brother, Yuji’s best friend forever, Yuji is tuning his bass guitar as Megumi is fiddling with his drums. The nightclub is packed tonight, tons of eager girls and fans surrounding them.
But his mind keeps drifting to you, when would you be coming, would you come, you all had just… gone back to being friends all week, both working, but texting more, and talking more, like you used to. Which he loves so much, he missed your brightness in his life, but also…Now he’s been inside of you, he’s tasted you, and you’ve tasted him.
How does he just go back to normal after it?
It feels almost wrong not dating you after being so intimate, Choso knows he’s a bit old fashioned for a man with a tongue ring, tattoos and a dick piercing, but he actually is old school when it comes to romance. It may be why he had already thought of proposing to Yuki, because that’s just what he felt was right to do, and god nothing he did before came close to you.
That’s what is really messing with him, watching your pretty face flush as he’d squeezed your throat? His tattooed, big hands wrapped on your tiny little neck, your eyes so dilated, as he had you writhing under him. How does he just compute that as his friend?
That’s what you wanted, he supposes he wanted it too, to not date anyone for some time, but now he’s going insane thinking of you, but also he doesn’t want to push something, ruin something. So he has to act unaffected, normal, every morning bringing you a coffee, but now his eyes dip to your cleavage in your pretty work dresses, just a hint, but now he knows what your breasts look like.
Now he knows how those legs feel around his face, around his hips, and knows how it feels to have that heat surrounding him. He’d jerked it to the memories every night since he saw you last, mental images driving him to insanity, to the point it’s difficult to focus on anything else. Even now you dance through his mind, as he keeps peeking at his phone, putting his guitar down then, when he sees it light up.
Angel💜 - I’m out front Cho Bear!
Choso smiles then, and Yuji comes up to him, peeking and smiling. “Hey, it’s my future wife!”
“In your dreams.” Megumi mumbles, smirking lazily when Yuji pouts.
“You’re mean, Megumi! Choso, you gotta hook me up with her. Please!” Choso usually would laugh at that, but now…
He gets irritated at his own brother?
What’s your pussy done to him, jesus.
“You’re still a baby, kiddo.” He ruffles Yuji’s pink spiky hair, earning his brother’s pout.
“But she broke up with that guy you said?”
“Yeah, so, you’re not getting her. She’s too hot for you.” Megumi says, then he chuckles a bit. “Me, though? Maybe.”
Choso glares at Megumi now, twirling his sticks in his hand, lazily looking as you walk through the front doors. “You’re both too young.”
“She’s twenty four, I’m nineteen, it’s not even that big of a deal. Megumi, you’re eighteen so hah!” Yuji says, pointing at him with a laugh. Megumi rolls his eyes.
“For two months-”
“Neither of you. Keep dreaming.” Choso says, waving over at you, and his heart falters when he drinks you in, this pretty black corset and a little plaid skirt with chains, you look so good he…
“Fuck she’s hot.” Yuji whistles, and Choso smacks him on the back of the head. “What are you finally gonna shoot your shot? Been my whole life almost.”
“We’re… just… friends.” He mumbles.
“Then hook your little brother up!”
“Nah. Now shut up, she’s coming.” You bounce up to them, a big smile on your pretty face, it’s like everyone else in the room fades. Choso has always known how beautiful you are, but now it’s ridiculous, how has he had such a pretty best friend, how has it not affected him, until now that he’s had just a taste of you.
And did you ever want to again? You’d been nothing but sweet and friendly, texting him several times a day, pictures of your meals or little selfies, along with all sorts of funny things you find. But that’s how you all were before Ino and Yuki, it was just the same, but now he wants to ask you for the lewdest things.
He wants to slide that skirt up in the bathroom and go down on you, fuck he could do that forever you taste so good, have your wetness dripping down his face, taste you on his lips all night. He gets hard under his dark black jeans thinking of it, shaking himself out of that as you get paused by several guys along the way, all hitting on you.
Of course they are.
But it makes him angry.
Choso is going to suck at this friends with benefits thing, isn’t he? He finally holds out a hand for you, and you take it eagerly, hopping up on the stage and hugging him tightly. He exhales at how good you feel, you’re so small compared to him, he could just pick you up and-
Fuck.
“Cho Bear, I’m so excited! I hope this outfit fits the vibe.” You say, and he stands back, eyeing you up and down, lips parted. You blush just a bit.
“You look so hot. I’ll say it for him.” Yuji says, as Choso is standing there, unable to even fucking speak. God what’s going on with him?
“Thanks, Yuji. Missed you!” You give him a hug, and Yuji enjoys it far too much. “You’ve gotten taller!”
“He’s still short.” Megumi teases, earning Yuji’s glare over your shoulder, he won’t let you go.
“I’m like an inch shorter, ass-”
“You’re all short.” Choso says, earning their glares, and your giggle. You now come over to Megumi, who hugs you too tightly for Choso’s liking, he wishes they were still young enough he could give them whippings, little brats.
“Megumi! Missed you!” You say, and Megumi buries his face in your hair as he holds you too long.
They’d always done this, fawned over you, and it was cute, they were just babies after all, but now Choso wants you to himself, and even their teasing has him riled up. But it’s not as if you’re his, you’re just his friend, and he knows you see them as little brothers, so why is he feeling this way!?
Did you ruin him fucking him once?
“Missed you too. We both did. You look so pretty.” Megumi says now, and you giggle a bit, holding both of their hands.
“You both are trying to suck up to me, stop it. I bet you two get in trouble at college huh?”
“Nah, that’s him.” They say simultaneously, pointing at each other, you roll your eyes with a smile, turning back to Choso, your eyes dart down his body, and that blush comes back, and fuck you blush down your throat, your chest…
“You look beautiful. I’m sorry.” Choso says softly, you shake your head, walking back over to him and letting the boys argue.
“You don’t have to say that, it’s-”
“No, you do. You really do.” He brushes your hair back, and you gasp, eyes locking onto his, and just the slightest touch, drives him insane, especially when he sees the goosebumps rise on your pretty breasts, pressed high in that corset top, one he’d love to rip off you.
“Thank you, Cho. You look really hot.” You say softly, trying to compose yourself, running a finger down his black band shirt, smiling up at him.
“Thank you, I-”
“Choso, Choso!” The girls are lining up in hoards, and he sighs, rolling his eyes a bit, you giggle. “Is that your girlfriend!?”
“No, just my best friend.” He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and you tense then, smiling with terse lips.
“Oh good! Can you sign my tits, Choso!” Choso rolls his eyes, and you step back, confusing him a bit.
“I’ll let you get started, I’ll be watching.” You say, and then he stops you, taking your hand gently.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No! No. I’m not cool with all the attention like you, is all.” You say, looking down nervously at your boots.
“Wait, I have a VIP tag, you can drink free all night.” You smile a bit then, and he snatches up the pass, putting it over your neck now, a neck he’d had-
Fuck.
“Thanks Cho, I can’t wait. You’re gonna kill it.” You kiss his cheek now.
“Are you… coming over? After?” He whispers now, in your ear, and you shift a bit nervously.
“I can come over. If you’ll still want to, you will be busy with all these-”
“I want you to. Please.” You step back, looking up at him.
“Of course, but don’t shut yourself off, we’re just…”
“Friends.”
“Yes.”
Choso sighs, looking at you. “Then why do I wanna-”
“Choso!” They’re all coming in hoards, before Choso can finish his sentence, that he wants to fuck you so badly you can’t walk the next day. But now he’s getting posters shoved at him to sign, and you wave at him, bouncing off over to the bar.
Just friends, huh?
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Your POV
Choso, Megumi and Yuji absolutely kill the set. Choso is all sweaty now as he finishes the song, holding the mic with one hand, a hand that had been gripping your breast just last week. Lips singing, lips that had sucked your nipples into his mouth. Hips shifting, hips that had pumped in and out, wrecking your pussy, a pussy sore for days.
You can’t just think like that!
Friends, friends, friends.
Megumi and Yuji are playing so well, you remember the three of them in Choso’s garage constantly practicing, you’re so proud of them, they’re like your own little brothers. Choso however, was not like your brother, even before you all had made love, you always saw how hot he was, you always wondered what it would be like to be intimate with him.
He blew your fucking mind, you want more.
It took everything in you not to have begged him to come over, to have not just showed up at his house, fuck to not lift your skirt up and fuck in your little office at work, you were so tempted. It took everything in you to keep it together, playing with your pussy imagining Choso’s tongue ring hitting your clit instead, whining in frustration when nothing worked.
You shift now in your seat, Choso is taking a break, he smiles at you but a really pretty blond comes up to him now, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering something in his ear. You tense as you sip your drink, tasting the tart juice on your tongue, he’s not yours, why should you care? He never has been, and one night of sex didn’t change that.
She’s holding her phone out and laughing, she’s really pretty, you think, Choso laughs a bit, genuinely enjoying her. She looks like Yuki, that’s his type, right? And that’s fine, why do you care, why does the sight of them apparently exchanging numbers make you feel sick to your stomach? When this was all your idea, not Choso’s.
Did Choso even want you, or was this just some… friendship, feeling sorry for you… going along with it? He had talked to you constantly, but he certainly had not hit on you, even when you sent kind of suggestive pics, not once did he ask to see more, or even act like a ‘friend with benefits’ you almost wondered if he wanted to do it again at all.
Until he’d asked you to come over.
You hear your name, and a whistle, and look to your left, mouth dropping open when you see him, the guy that had taken your high school heart and crushed it, Satoru fucking Gojo. How you’d missed his shocking white hair you have no clue, maybe you’d been too absorbed in the show. Now he’s smirking down at you, looking as gorgeous if not more so.
Fucker.
“You really filled out late, hmm? Look hot as fuck.” He says, earning your glare, and he’s smirking more now.
“Fuck off, Gojo.”
“That’s not a good greeting, pretty.” He pouts those full lips at you, standing right in front of you at the bar, towering over you, he’s just a little taller than Choso. He’s got a drink in his hand, you smile at it.
“You drinking a pink pussy?”
“Fuck off it’s yummy.” You both laugh then, you hold out your hand to shake his, but he pulls it in, kissing the back of it.
High school you would be freaking the fuck out at this, but you remember Gojo breaking up with you at prom, and that really hurt at the time. Honestly you were broken over him for a whole damn year after, he’d been such a little shit then, surely he hasn’t changed. But also…
Your mind is wrapped in your best friend, the best friend who is dancing as there is different music playing now, a girl grinding on him. You take a shaky breath, realizing you’re being foolish. You perhaps can’t separate the two, sex from relationships, maybe you do need more experience.
“So… how have you been, pretty?” His words shake you out of your thoughts.
“I’m good, Gojo. You?” You ask, eyes back up to his, swirling blue intense eyes that had your heart in high school.
“I’m really good. Running the family business, so fun.” He rolls his eyes, and you smile at that.
“I’m sure you do great.”
“So you with Choso finally?”
“Oh, no. Still friends.” You blush, looking down at your now empty drink, Satoru takes it from your grip, ordering you a pink pussy. “I don’t want that!”
“We’ll both drink pussy tonight.” He says with an audacious wink, and you gasp at that, earning his chuckle as he hands you the pink drink.
“You’re too much.” You say, sipping it. “Yummy though.”
“Your pussy is yummy?” You gasp again, smacking at his chest, and he throws his head back with laughter, deep and husky.
“Maybe it is.” You say with a shy look down, and he curses softly.
“Oh fuck. You finally lost your pesky virginity?”
You sip the drink, glaring at him over the cup. “Oh fuck off, jock.”
“Not anymore. I’m lazy.”
“Sure you are.” You shove at him again, but he pins you between his arms, pressing you against the bar. “Why now? You didn’t like me enough then.”
“Maybe I was a jock idiot.” He murmurs, leaning far too close, and you feel your heart skip a beat. “Can I get a re-do? Grab some food sometime?”
You take a breath then, inhaling some stupidly expensive cologne. “I don’t know, Gojo, I just got out of a bad breakup.”
“So let’s fuck then.”
“Gojo!” You sigh, head leaning back, he’s chuckling.
“I’m kidding… kinda. A date with adult Gojo, not jock Gojo?”
“Ah, still doing that third person shit.” He sticks his tongue out at you. “Maybe we can grab a bite sometime. But no promises.”
Gojo grins, white teeth glinting, and he backs off, letting you breathe, you see Choso is finishing the dance up, and the girl is kissing on his cheek. You can see his blush from here, see his hand respectfully on her shoulder, while her hands are all over his chest, making your tummy turn.
You’re stupid. You had pined for Gojo, letting Choso go, only to now pine for Choso, and maybe let Gojo go. You can’t be that dumb girl.
Choso looks at you both now, eyes narrowing, and you decide to tiptoe, yanking Gojo down by his dress shirt, kissing his cheek. Choso glares now, leaving that girl finally and coming towards you both. You’re being petty and stupid, all while Satoru Gojo’s lips are almost against yours now, his big hand cupping your face.
“You did lose it, huh?” He teases, you snort, nodding now. “Aww you’re not such a goody goody.”
“You’re still a dick, Gojo.” You lean down, stepping back, only for him to bend low and kiss your cheek now, soft lips that were your first kiss all those years ago.
“Give me your number, little brat.” He murmurs.
“Oh fine. Don’t annoy me too much.” You give him your phone number as Choso walks by, and Gojo smiles at him.
“Great show, man, you killed it.” He says, and Choso smiles back a bit, nodding and holding a hand out.
“Thanks man. Fuck your best friend though.”
“I know, shit move.” Gojo says, shaking his head. “Pussy really fucks your head up though, y’know?”
“I do know. Catching up?” He asks now, looking at you directly, and you nod just a bit, as Gojo checks his phone.
“Shit, gotta go. Text me, pretty?” He asks you, kissing your cheek again, you sigh, shrugging one bare shoulder.
“Maybe.”
“Ouch.” He shivers again, grinning at Choso. “You’ve got a mean ass, hot ass best friend you know. Later!” Gojo’s lanky form disappears, leaving you and Choso alone, tense, just staring at each other.
“Great show, Choso.” You say, and he scoffs, glaring now. “What?”
“Gojo, really?”
“Really what? I told him maybe a drink. What’d you tell the pretty blond?” You ask then, and Choso flushes, looking away.
“You told me don’t hold back. Just friends.”
“Yep. So.”
“But Gojo?”
“What about it? What do you care?” You set your drink down then, grabbing your purse and slinging it over your shoulder.
“Don’t go! What’s your problem?”
“That I sucked so bad at sex you didn’t want to again.” You whisper, choking up now, and his violet eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open, but you walk away, pressing through the writhing sea of bodies.
“Wait, what!?”
“Great show. I didn’t miss a single one you know.” He stops you then, in front of the building, in the cool night air, which you suck in greedily, turning you to him.
“You didn’t?” He asks softly.
“Not one. How could I? I’m so proud of you. I just hung out at the back of the club so you wouldn’t know.” Choso exhales, closing his eyes now.
“Why do you think I don’t wanna feel your perfect pussy again?” He whispers, making your pussy clench around nothing, you bite your lower lip, drawing his attention to it, he steps closer to you, taking over your senses.
“You didn’t bring it up all week! Even after pics of me in my slutty ass nightie I sent.”
“I thought you slept in that!?”
“No!”
“I didn’t think you wanted to. I was afraid it was too weird. And you didn’t bring it up again, either… I can’t just ask for more, it seems disrespectful!”
“You could have. I would have sent them. I’m stupid.”
“You’re not! Don’t just go home. Please, come over.” He pulls you flush against him now, and your lashes flutter shut.
“Invite the pretty girl over, don’t let me ruin-” Choso slams his lips on yours, and fuck it feels so good, you whine out softly, tip toeing as he bends down, pressing you against the brick wall of the club. His hands grip your waist, as he pulls back, eyes lidded.
“I want you so fucking bad. Can’t get it out of my head.” He says against your lips, you taste his sweet breath, mingling with yours, your hands come to grip his band shirt, feeling the sweat of him, only serving to turn you on more, especially when his thigh presses between yours.
“This is a bad idea. We shouldn’t have.” You say then, as you grind on his leg, crying out softly.
“Fuck…” He moans so quiet, his hands pressing into your waist, burning you through your corset. “No, we should do it again.”
“What!?”
“Yes, to… prove we can just… do that…”
“Oh, yes… maybe… that’s it…” He slides your skirt up, pulling his thigh away, finding you sopping wet over your panties, his eyes flutter shut as you cry out, back arching. “Not here.”
“Not here. Fuck, can you wait till I take you home?” He asks, and you shake your head, especially when his finger sinks into your heat, filling you so good, finger pressing on that spot, making you see stars in the night.
“Please.” You whisper, soaking wet, dripping down his fingers.
“I need you in my bed, not just-”
“Car.”
He blinks then, in shock at your boldness, and maybe you were too, but you can’t stand it, the throbbing need. “In the car?”
“Bathroom.”
“Oh fuck, you’re down to one word sentences, shit.” He looks around, as if thinking of his best options. “What if I get you off in the car then we go back to my place? Will that work?”
“Maybe.” He laughs a bit softly, caressing your jaw.
“I missed kissing you already.”
“Fuck.” You can’t form more than one word, not when he’s rubbing your clit right outside this club, and kissing you again, tongue ring clicking against your teeth, tongue devouring your mouth.
“You’re so wet, I… come on.” He drags you eagerly through the club, women are trying to stop him, but he ignores them completely, dragging you back in the club where you haven’t seen. “There’s a… private room for the band back here.”
He shuts the door to the room with a quiet click, locking it and turning to you then, picking you up like it’s nothing, carrying you to the little couch in the room, kissing your lips again, hungry now. He’s moaning over you, tongues entwining, and you can’t stop your hips from shifting up. He eagerly slides up your skirt, as you struggle to breathe a bit in your top.
“Is it uncomfy?” He asks gently.
“When I lay down, yeah, um… not when I sit up.”
“Oh shit, okay.” He sits you up carefully, turning you so your legs are on the edge of the couch, between your thighs now, and you tug at the pigtails he has on, earning a look of hunger in his violet gaze. “You look so fucking hot tonight.”
“You do. Ah!” He’s kissing up your thighs now, spreading them, and you’re pulling more and more. “Cho, please…”
“Please what, angel?” He whispers, making you jerk when his tongue traces the top of your inner thigh, his breath against your pussy. He shoves your thong to the side, revealing glistening lips, moaning. “Fuck you weren’t even this wet last time.”
“You on that stage did things.” You admit, and he blushes, pulling your hips towards his face, taking your hand and making you hold your panties aside.
“What do you want, use your words. And more than one.”  He teases, and you glare now.
“You know…”
“Say it.”
“Make me cum with your tongue, please.” He groans now, then he’s pulling you to him, tongue swiping up your slit, and you have to cover your mouth to stop the scream that comes out.
“This taste…” He whispers, your hand clutches the panties so hard they dig in, when he spreads your pussy lips, sliding his tongue inside. You’re soaking his face at an embarrassing speed, thighs trembling when he flicks it up, looking up at you now.
“Cho… fuck…” You whisper, breasts heaving in the corset as you look down at him. “Take em off.”
He slips them off quickly, tossing your thong on the floor, and burying his face back against you, tongue flicking so fast you can’t take it, slipping two thick fingers in your slick pussy. He stretches you out so good, your head falls back, pulling on his pigtails for more, as his tongue and fingers work you so perfectly. You’re overheated, mind whirling, vision darkening.
Choso’s touches, his kisses, his fingers pumping in and out do you in. You cover your face with both hands, legs shaking violently as your orgasm hits so hard, and you’re gushing down his face, his hand. He drinks you up, the sounds loud and lewd, slurping up every bit that pours, your walls fluttering. You yank him up again now, and drag his lips to yours, tasting yourself on them.
He moans into your mouth as you rub him over his jeans, making him hiss, stopping your hand. “Angel I’m fine just making you cum.”
“Want your cock. Now.” He blinks again, looking at you in surprise. “You felt so good in me, please.”
“Fuck… I don’t have a…”
“I don’t care.” You’ve unzipped him now, letting out his thick length, pumping it with your hand, up and down. “I never haven’t used one, I’m clean.”
“Me too… I always used one… fuck, we’re doing this, oh my god...” He flips you now, to where you’re straddling him on the couch, and starts grinding you against his cock, you’re clutching him as you slide back and forth, head lolling to the side for his kisses. “You feel so good, I wanted to fuck you so bad all week.”
“No…”
“Yes, fuck yes. I swear. Jerked off every night.” You gasp then, when he slides into you, filling you so full, his cock stretching your slick cunt out. You both pause, at the feeling of him without a condom, your breath comes out in little pants, as does his, his eyes rolling back for a moment. “Oh fuck you feel even better, you’re so hot-”
You slam your lips on his now, rolling your hips, and he’s groaning into your lips, bucking his hips up, slamming into your cervix. “I haven’t been on top… I don’t…”
“I’ll use you then, huh baby?” He whispers, mentally fucking you, as you look at him in desire, nodding, as if you know what the fuck he means. “Hold on to me.”
You do as he says, still confused, wrapping your arms around him, then he’s fucking up into you, so hard you cum all over his cock, making him slow, cheeks flushed, lips glossy, pulling at your corset and biting and sucking on your exposed breasts hungrily. He keeps fucking up into you, and you’re gushing down his jeans as he does, feeling the denim brush your sensitive skin.
“Choso… Choso…” You’re crying out, and he’s crying out your name, the squishing of your pussy louder as he fucks harder, his piercing rolling on your walls as his weeping tip knocks your cervix.
“You feel so perfect, fuck you’re pretty, why would… you think I… wouldn’t want you…” He whispers, fucking you so good tears are falling from your eyes, you’re sniffling, trying to grasp at him, to keep you tethered. “Wanna cum in your perfect pussy, fill you up.”
“Choso!” You feel yourself closer and closer, as he’s muttering to himself, to you, grabbing your ass so hard, dragging you down his length, over and over. “Why… would you think… I didn’t…want you!?”
“You’re too p-pretty-”
“Fuck off. Fuck me.” Your head is thrown back now, hair falling down your back as he does just that, biting on your throat now, as you cum again, this time it sends shockwaves, you realize Choso was gentler last time, as he pounds up hard. You pull back and see his pussy drunk eyes, matching your cock drunk ones.
His hand comes to pull your hair at the base, his thrusts slowing, moving his hips just so as you’re pulsing around his cock. “Close… close, you feel too good, you feel so… cum again, f’me please. Please.”
He’s rubbing your clit between you both now, and you shatter over him, his lips try to absorb some of the sound but it’s nearly impossible, you’ve completely lost any sense, just how good Choso Kamo feels inside you, raw. He huffs now, fucking faster and faster, before pulling you up and off him, still on his lap, and you watch the white ropes of cum pouring all over.
He’s moaning so sexy, looking right at you, free hand cupping your face, and your hand joins his, finishing pumping out his cum, making him gasp. “Feel s’good, angel, s’good.” He whispers.
“You felt so good, Choso. M’weak…” You say softly, looking at where your hands are joined, his cum all over both of them now.
“I wanted to cum in you so bad, but that’s… intimate. Huh?” He says softly, searching your eyes, and you nod a bit, looking around and grabbing tissues, cleaning him and you up carefully. He’s struggling to get a breath, as you realize what you’ve done, panicking. “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing.” You pull on your panties now, with shaky hands, pussy aching from him, entire body lit up. You wanna cuddle him, kiss him, sleep with him all damn night, this isn’t normal this-
“Please, I’ll think I did something wrong again.” He whispers, kissing your neck, holding you against him.
“I suck at the um… friends with benefits thing, Is all.”
“Suck, no you’re… amazing. What do you mean? Pussy is perfect.” You turn then, nervously looking up at him.
“Cho, how serious will you get with a girl before you stop fucking me?” He blinks then, shaking his head.
“I… I’m not gonna date someone any time soon, I told you…”
“So if you go on dates, you’ll still…”
“I mean, until it’s a full relationship, yes. What about you?” He asks then, as he adjusts his jeans.
“Of course I agree. So if you go on dates… as long as you don’t…”
“I would never sleep with someone and not tell you, especially if we’re not using anything. I’m not like that anyway.” He says, looking down at you now. “You’re the first like this for me too. I don’t wanna fuck up.”
“I just need to separate it, that's all.” You say, and his mouth opens, but the door knocks, and you head toward it.
“Separate what?” He asks, pausing you at the door.
“Sex from… feelings I guess.” You mumble, feeling mortified. Choso gulps now, cupping your face in his hands. “I won’t sleep with anyone without telling you either, I promise.”
“And will you sleep with anyone? With Gojo?” He asks, the knocks continue, and he sighs. “In a minute!”
“With Gojo? I can’t stand him. I just… said maybe we’d catch up. What about you and-”
“You were in love with him.”
“And!? What do you care, you’re just my friend, right?” He glares, jaw locking, pressing his hand against your pussy, you gasp.
“Friend that just made you cum over and over.” He whispers, so you lean close, so close you can taste him.
“And I made you cum all over, so much cum too.” You whisper back, before stepping away, taking a breath, leaving him visibly shaken, his eyes dilating as he presses against you. “We will be honest, always. If you don’t want to… fuck me… you can just tell me, okay?”
“As if that’ll happen.” He stops you once more, pressing you against the door, kissing you again. You pull back.
“Only around sex, for kissing. Right?” He glares again, you want his kiss, you want all of Choso, you feel you’ve opened some stupid can of worms now.
“Maybe I wanna fuck you again, cum in-”
Knock Knock Knock.
“Choso!” You hear Yuji whining, and you both separate quickly, you try to get yourself together.
“Come to my place tonight.” He says softly, as he goes to open the door. You can’t stand another night in his arms, you’re already too attached, being just too stupid, what were you thinking? Maybe you didn’t think you’d feel all this…
“Maybe we can see each other tomorrow?” He frowns then, nodding, and you kiss his cheek, before darting out, ignoring everything, pussy throbbing, entire body ignited, and your heart, your mind!?
You’re confused. All you know is you can’t stand the thought of your best friend with someone, and that’s against the rules you all just made. You’re going to have to shove it back, going to have to…
But how!? How when he looked at you like that while he fucked you raw.
You take a breath, heading back into the club, to say something, anything, maybe you’re rude, maybe…
Choso’s sitting next to her, that girl, and they’re laughing.
After he was inside you.
You turn away before you make a fool of yourself, it’s just sex, it’s just sex, you’re just friends.
You get into the back of the ride you order, as your screen lights up, but it’s not Cho Bear…
It’s Satoru Gojo.
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Tag List: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @makingtimemine @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @teacupwaifu @lana18918 @bigbird789  @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @aldebrana @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @jazzthatonewriterchick @yung-notorious @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @labelt-san  @sparklydeerface @10honeybee01 @marie-is-in-the-dark @lavender-hvze @angelcakkess @bellasworlds-stuff @pauliiis-stuff @mysouleaten @city-of-lovers @teddiiursula @plimplimmeiododoi
Taglist open! Hope I got everyone <3 This is gonna be messy, aha, can't wait to hear your thoughts!!
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lyinginmeadow · 6 hours ago
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Breakaway | hockey!Azriel × reader
Summary: You're not a fan of a kiss cam. And neither is your boyfriend.
Word count: 1,8k
Warnings: swearing, miserable knowledge of hockey (sorry yall), Rhys being a protective asshole over his sister
A/n: Anyone a hockey fan? No, just me? Okay. Another thing is, that I described university as I know it in my country haha. I hope no one will be confused
Also yes, I did take inspiration from tiktok. I just loved that scene <3
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Leaves started to fall which meant your favorite season was starting. You loved anything and everything that came with autumn. The pumpkin spice, moody weather, sweaters, and books. With autumn knocking on your door, the new semester has begun. You didn't mind studying, you actually enjoyed it to a certain degree, but the stress is what always got to you during exams. You were just starting your second year of university, so you knew what to expect. To many that was all. Just endless studying and partying to get their minds off things. You? Not really. Ever since you could remember, fall meant the hockey season started. Were you a hockey player? No, not at all. Ice skating was your passion, just not hockey. That didn't matter, because your brother was the golden child. Rhysand played because your father used to. You would never say it out loud, mainly because it would inflate his ego even more, but Rhysand was a star player. He was so much better than your father and you knew that if he wanted to, he would make it far. 
 Rhys never acted towards you with any malice other than just a bit of sibling rivalry. He was actually quite protective of you, given the fact you were his little sister. But whatever you did was never good enough for your father. You might study medicine, but Rhys was finishing law. You might figure skate but you were no hockey player. And most of all, you were a woman. And your father despised you for it. You were expected to make it to every game, but no one ever wanted to attend your competitions.  You enjoyed watching the games, especially when Rhys met his best friends and teammates at university. The games became so much more interesting when Azriel entered the ice. Rhys might be the captain and the center, but Azriel was a force to be reckoned with, the fastest player in the rink. You became friends with both Cassian and Azriel quickly since you often visited their house to get away from your parents. Rhysand of course was glad but you knew you were off-limits to his friends. Not only was it obvious in how he glared at both of them whenever they made a comment he didn’t appreciate. But the first time you met, Cass basically undressed you with his eyes. From what you heard he reminded them often to not mess with his sister.
It did not stop you from developing feelings for him the moment you laid eyes on him. For a while, it did seem he viewed you only as his best friend's little sister. Which you had a hard time accepting. Your relationship changed when you sneaked into a party they had thrown in celebration of a victory last year. You were a first-year, and your first semester at university had been hectic, but living close to your brother and away from your parents was a long-awaited blessing. Having a taste of freedom made you bold. Azriel couldn't take his eyes off of you, you had been like a magnet. He hadn't been the only one as you attracted the attention of another freshman. Azriel might not have acted on his attraction towards you before but seeing you with another man changed that. One thing led to another and you were sneaking out together whenever you found time.
It had been a year and your brother still had no clue. And you intended to keep it that way. You loved your boyfriend, you didn't want to worry about his teeth off the ice as well. Cassian on the other hand suspected, thankfully as you introduced him to your friend, Nesta, he became preoccupied and dropped the matter. 
''So who do you think will win? And be honest, they're not here, you can't hurt their fragile egos.'' Nesta disturbed your train of thought. You laughed shaking your head. You loved hanging out with her because of how direct she was, always saying exactly what was on her mind. You met Nesta when your university did a charity ballet on the ice of Nutcracker. You got the role of Clara and she was your ballet counterpart. You did not expect to establish a friendship with her, but she was exactly who you needed in your life. You knew she would call you out on your bullshit anytime and you liked her for it. She also happened to be the first person you told about Azriel. She was not surprised, saying that you weren't being as secretive as you thought you had been.
''You know I am still biased since I really want our team to win. The Cavaliers are good and they play dirty. But Cass will probably try to kill Eris on the ice. Given the history and all.'' You gave her a pointed look. Shifting your gaze to the rink, you tried to find number 38.
''They’ve got no chance against VU.'' Said a guy next to you. You hated when someone butted their way into a conversation. But given the fact, that you would be spending about two hours in close proximity, you had decided for a polite smile. ''I guess so.''
''So how come you've got such good seats? Know someone on the team?'' He chimed in again.
''You could say that. My brother is the captain.'' You answered keeping your eyes on Azriel as he warmed up.
''Rhysand is your brother?''
''Unfortunately.'' You nodded, and his eyes grew in size. ''That's so lucky! I wish I was a hockey player or just knew them. You see, I got these seats because I'll be writing an article about the game.'' You smiled politely again shifting your gaze to the rink when the puck was just about to hit the ice.
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As the game progressed, the crowd became electric. All the fans were shouting and your ears began ringing. Velaris Bats were in the lead, but only by one goal and everyone was nervous. To make the game even more enjoyable, there were games for the fans as well. Students competed against one another to win points for their university and win the competition of the tribunes.
The competitions were fun and good entertainment during breaks. But while the game continued the camera was turned on. You laughed at a random do a meme moment, but quickly turned your head back to the ice. You didn't want to miss a second of Azriel's game. Fully focused, you didn't realize that the camera switched to a kiss cam. A guy sitting next to you turned his head to face you and pointed to the TV earning your attention. ''I mean when in Rome, right?'' He laughed as he tried to close the distance. ''Yeah, no, thank you.'' You laughed nervously shifting in your seat.
''Oh come on, it's just a kiss.'' He pressured, and you gave a panicked look towards the ice. You heard Nesta taking a sharp inhale to give the guy a piece of her mind. You were interrupted by shouts of the fans and loud banging on the glass. 
''Back the fuck off.'' You couldn't hear Az properly, but the message was quite clear, making the guy shift his gaze between the two of you uncomfortably. Az got two minutes for stalling the game which made the crowd boo and your brother yell obscenities as he often did when one of his teammates was sent to a bench. Thankfully during the power play the Cavaliers didn't get a goal in, but it was close. It only enraged Rhysand more which was abundantly clear when he almost broke his stick as the second period came to an end.
Azriel was sending daggers to the guy sitting next to you who looked like he wanted nothing more than to leave. He relaxed when the players left for their locker rooms. You just hoped Rhys didn't look much into Azriel's possessive behavior.
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''What the fuck was that?'' Roared Rhys as he entered the locker room.
''I don't know what you're talking about.'' Azriel continued to take off his gear.
''Do not play with me! You could have cost us the game.''
''I was thinking I did you a favor. He had no right to touch her like that.'' He finally faced Rhysand.
''It was a fucking kiss cam.''
''She didn't want to be kissed. And he didn't back off.''
''So what? You made it your mission to help her while you were supposed to pay attention to the puck?'' Spit Rhys. Everyone in the locker room was silent watching the two stubborn players go head to head.
''Yes! And I would do it again.'' Azriel retorted.
''I could have you off the team for this.'' He hissed.
''Rhys-.'' Cassian signed. ''Be my guest.'' Azriel interrupted starring Rhysand down. He wouldn't back down. He couldn't. He knew you could have handled yourself back there. Hell, Nesta was there, too and she wouldn't let some guy do anything disrespectful. He just acted on an impulse. When he looked up and saw your panicked gaze, something shifted inside him. Rhys kept watching Azriel, staring right into his soul when suddenly his eyes grew larger as if recognizing what he should have seen from the very beginning.
''You've got to be kidding me.'' When Azriel didn't answer, Rhys continued, ''Tell me you don’t have a thing for my little sister.’’
''Azriel, I swear to everything that is holly, I will fucking punch you if you don't give me an answer.''
''We are together. Have been for almost a year.'' Azriel never saw anyone have an aneurysm. But if he could guess, Rhysand was a textbook example of how it looked like.
''I take it back, I will punch you anyway.'' And he might have if Cassian wasn't there to catch Rhys. ''Easy there killer. The game is still on. And you might not like it but Az is an asset.''
''I don't want to see you anywhere near her, understand? I know how you are with girls!'' Rhysand snarled.
''You know I can't do that.''
''Then you're off the team.''
''Fine.''
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As they returned to the ice, the tension between Velaris Bats was palpable. Cassian was looking between his teammates probably trying to find a quick solution to the problem at hand. Azriel wasn't paying you any attention keeping his gaze on the ice only. You frowned slightly. When you looked at Rhys you found him staring back at you anger oozing out of his every move. 
He knew.
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alchemistc · 37 minutes ago
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@liminalmemories21 - this isn't exactly what you asked for but:
Abby C. 8:51 PM: So how'd it go? With the talking?
Buck stares at the message. Stares at the milk frother sitting in his counter, and the candlesticks he'd really considered dropping off the side of his upper balcony, ten minutes ago. (He's a firefighter, he knows how that ends. But, like. Still)
Bad, he texts back. So bad. But he also won't give me my sweatshirt back and I know he has it. Any sage advice?
It's a little weird to be texting her. She'd been one of the first people he'd ever talked to consistently on the phone, and he'd grown to enjoy it, grown to appreciate that voice in his ear.
Abby texts back immediately: I'm not entirely sure I know what that means. He actually LIKED you.
Buck can feel the buzzing under his skin, the rush of adrenaline at remembering Tommy not only not denying he'd loved Buck, but admitting off-hand that he still did.
It means I'm getting my man back, Buck sends, and then stares at the slippers he can see poking out from the right side of the bed.
His phone rings.
"You know," Abby starts, before Buck can so much as greet her. "I spent a long time beating myself up for not seeing this as a sign, but that's not the point."
"What... is the point?"
Abby chuckles. She sounds good. Happy. Buck is far enough removed from it to feel glad for her, and jealous of her, and then he's rolling right back around to being fucking livid that Abby and Tommy had both run. Different reasons, same result. A first of Buck's that'd just walked away.
"He used to watch movies with my mom constantly. All the terrible schlock that I couldn't stand - Hallmark movies, and D-Lister rom coms, all those trite based on true events Lifetime shows."
Buck nods. Waits for her to continue.
She doesn't.
"I'm not picking up what you're dropping down."
"He and my mom would just critique them all the way through. Just tear them to shreds. What was unrealistic, what was just plain stupid. She - mom was never more lucid than when she and Tommy were bemoaning the lack of reality in those movies."
"Listen, I already know asking him to move in with me was a dumb idea. I'm the himbo, remember?"
Abby pauses. "...that's what he called you?"
"Apparently all your mutual friends did."
Abby sighs. "The point is, Buck. They liked watching them because they liked talking about what real relationships were actually like. What happened after a curtain close kiss, how much a couple was gonna fight over the financial sustainability of a Christmas themed donut shop, what the fiance that got left behind in the big city was gonna do now that they were finally free of the person who'd spent the holiday season losing their entire brains. Tommy's a realist. He wants to be stopped before he gets on the plane, but he wants to be stopped because you already have a ten step plan to make things work. And he's terrified of giving too much of himself away to someone who thinks he shits rainbows and puppies and hasn't reckoned with the fact that he's just as screwed up as the rest of us."
"You swear more than I remember."
Abby laughs. " But you see my point?"
Buck doesn't want to. But he does. "Well, I definitely don't think he's perfect anymore."
"And you still love him." She says it like she knows. She says it like she'd once expected to spend a life with Tommy Kinard.
"And I still love him," Buck acknowledges, and they both drift into silence. It's comfortable. Easy. He sort of misses being able to talk to her about shit like this.
"Call me if you need anything, Buck."
Buck hangs up the phone with a million new, vaguely more hopeful thoughts swirling around in his brain.
Twenty minutes later he texts her one more time: This is the only sex thing you're getting from me - that thing he does with your nipples? What the fuck?
Abby C. 9:22 PM: I taught him that. You're welcome.
Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.
The knocking continues.
It's getting louder.
There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.
Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.
He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.
Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.
The knocking returns less than a minute later.
---
There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.
Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.
Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.
Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.
Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.
Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.
"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.
Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.
It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.
The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.
"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.
"What are you -?"
"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."
---
He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.
"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.
Buck's scowl.
God.
"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."
"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."
Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."
The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.
"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.
It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.
The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.
This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.
Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.
Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.
That he'd forgotten about.
Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.
"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.
That somehow stings just a little bit extra.
Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.
"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.
"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.
"Cut it out, Buck."
Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."
---
The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.
Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.
Buck almost looks triumphant.
"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."
He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.
Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.
The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.
"This isn't everything."
Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.
"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.
He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.
He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.
Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.
"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.
"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."
"That's not fair."
"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."
"I know."
"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."
"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.
Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."
"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.
"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."
He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.
"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.
Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.
Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.
"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."
It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.
"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."
Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.
"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."
---
He goes in for the kill.
"I called Abby, two nights ago."
Right for the jugular. No survivors.
"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."
Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.
"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.
Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."
The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.
"I can't do this."
"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"
"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."
Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."
"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.
"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."
Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.
Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.
He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.
---
There is someone knocking at his door.
Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.
He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.
There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.
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dubina-dawkins · 2 days ago
Text
STRESS
~850 words
>After long missions Ben is obviously stressed. What else can you do if not help him?
warnings/notes: smut, minors dni! oral (m receiving), female reader but there aren't many real descriptions other than calling reader a "heroine", no usage of y/n, no proofread I'm gonna die, ben is being canonically really rough, but there's just a bit of his softer side i wish was there in canon so maybe ooc, supe!reader, reader is a second captain of payback (like starlight in the third season but no parallels between starlight & homelander and reader & soldier boy)
REBLOGS WILL BE APPRECIATED!
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It hadn't been a hard day, not even a hard week, it had been going on for a hell of a long time. Everyone was on edge, even Tessa and Tommy were exhausted, and if all those missions, he filming of that stupid movie Legend had insisted on, could exhaust the twins, whose energy had always burned like dynamite, pun intended, then obviously no one had any energy at all.
People deal with stress in different ways. Some people try to abstract themselves from society - that's what Mindstorm did, and something in you told him that if he missed one more training session, then as soon as his coat even looms in Soldier Boy's peripheral vision, Dan would be dead.
Some were trying to forget themselves in training, and some were trying to beat the crap out of them in training. And you, as co-captain of this incorrigible team, as a supe who still had some humanity left in her, it was unbearably painful to watch Ben take it out on the others. But not at you, of course. Of course not at you, you were fucking special.
For instance, you were special when you sat between his legs in the meeting room.
No, don't think anything terrible, Ben wasn't the kind of man who would force a woman to do something like that, after all, he may have been a bastard, a misogynist and...a lot of other bad things, but he was a real man of his time - or at least he thought he was. In his opinion, it was much more manly to get a woman to fall at his feet - in this case, literally.
No, it's just that after he almost smashed Black Noir's head on the table during today's meeting, you had no doubt that he could use some stress relief.
And who, if not the second captain of the Payback, America's No. 1 heroine, on a par with the Statue of Liberty, could help him, America's greatest hero, become even a little more forgiving? The answer was obvious: no one. Did you do it out of fear, Stockholm syndrome, or because the only humanity left in you somehow cherished the bastard? It wasn't that important. Not now, anyway.
Not when his big hand was clutching your hair, painfully pulling back and literally slamming your head into his lap again and again. His cock slammed into your throat with a sharp and tremendous pressure, and somewhere through the veil of your own pleasure in the process you could hear his absolutely animalistic growl. Well, knowing that you could bring him to such a primitive state fueled so much pride in your chest that you obviously grew bolder.
You could grip his shaft lightly with your teeth, which made your hair pull back especially hard, forcing you to let go of his length from your mouth. You only laughed, and Ben only feigned annoyance.
And just a few moments after that, he's back to exhaling your name gutturally, stretching the "r" sound especially hard when he says you're his "good girl". And soon enough, Ben's grip on your curls tightens, and he's moving your head at an unsteady pace in pursuit of his pleasure alone. You suppress your gag reflexes, because to your great surprise, not only he likes it, but you as well. You were definitely a masochist.
His growls, guttural moans, and sloppy grunts mingled with your whimpers and the wet slapping of your face against his heated skin. How strange was it that you were ready to cum now without even touching your needy slit with your fingertips, just from the feel of his huge length in your mouth? It was probably very strange, but you didn't have that thought in your head, or any other, God, Ben had literally fucked the shit out of your brain, because all your sick mind was thinking about was his voice, his face, his hands, just fucking him. Thrust, thrust, another thrust--
He stops abruptly, apparently not wanting to end it like this. Soldier Boy lets go of your hair, pats your head approvingly (a rare sign of tenderness on his part!) and then takes up the locks again to lift your face off his still-hard cock, glistening in a mixture of pre-ejaculate and your saliva. He grins smugly, taking your chin with his finger. Judging by the fact that he's even allowed himself that smirk, some of his stress is already gone. But this is not enough.
"Get up, love. And sit on the table," he growls, lifting you off your lap as you almost hit your head on the edge of the table, and Ben lowers himself to you, pressing his lips dangerously close to yours in a scalding kiss. His lips taste gross, a mixture of expensive whiskey, weed, and smoke, but you grasp the taste with your whole life line. But before you can even open your mouth to his tongue, Ben soon pulls away, biting your bottom lip.
"I'm not going to end this with you so easily."
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a/n: of course know this man is huge asshole and i hate him with all of my heart but your honor he's played by jensen ackles so he can be pardoned. idk what was the last time i written smut tbh
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kiame-sama · 3 days ago
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Would Papa Hades mind if I rant to him my frustration over how people always make him a ‘Bad Guy’ in our world?
Whenever Movies that have Greek Mythology in it, it always pissed me off when they make Hades the Villain (I feel like it’s just because Hades is the God of the Underworld that automatically makes him ‘Evil’)
Literally out of ALL the Greek Gods, Hades is actually the NICEST of the Gods (He was willing to let a mortal man take his wife out of the Underworld but he must not look at her because she’ll be sent back during the journey until they leave his realm) and was never unfaithful to his beloved Persephone
There was a myth that he had ONE lover, but that was BEFORE he met his Beloved
Would Papa Hades appreciate that I don’t see him as evil just because he rules over the Underworld? (Because since he’s one of the Great Seven so he’ll naturally be feared for his powers and authority)
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Warnings: Papa Hades in his 50ft form, comforting ancient Shinigami, daily allotted sunshine/shade garden time,
For reference, this is approximately the current height difference:
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~~~~~~~~
"-but I mean, why do they always have to make Hades out to be bad? I don't think my Hades is bad and I don't think you're bad either. You're probably the only one I've met in this world who didn't immediately try to make decisions for me. You haven't collared me, or taken me away from where I want to be, or tried to control me in any way. You're even letting me sit on your shoulder and talk your ear off in the garden because I wanted some time away from it all!"
The giant Shinigami was leaning his cheek on his hand, listening attentively to your every word. You both were seated upon a shadowy throne he had summoned in the stone and briar garden of Ramshackle. It was a good distance away from the building itself and no one was willing to tell the Shinigami he couldn't protect you.
Deep in the shadows, watchful eyes thought better of challenging a being of myth and power. Some were dissuaded from the prospect altogether, seeing such an ancient being so casually attending the soft Human prize. Not all who hunted sought harm, but even the insane knew better. Smaller predators will almost always give space to a bigger predator. No need to die this day.
The giant Shinigami was enjoying the history lessons from your world, curious that your own history had beings so similar to him that even shared his name. He also appreciated the fact you were so passionately defending his doppelganger in your world. Truthfully, the similarities between him and the Hades of your world was not lost on him. Perhaps the Humans of your world were originally from Twisted Wonderland and simply forgot over time after crossing to a different realm. If that were the case then he had much to consider.
Still, he appreciates how relaxed you are around him, now trusting in his willingness to act in your best interest. He had always afforded all of the Humans under his protection the ability to choose. The only difference now was he had to keep a closer eye on you than he did the Humans leaving his isle.
"I'm glad to be living up to your expectations, Little One. So long as it is your wish to stay here, I will aid you however I can. Young Idia has updated your phone to contact me directly should you ever have need. I must say, it is nice to hear of your home, you speak so little about it. I'm sure you have your reasons, so I won't pry. I'm thankful you trust me enough to share all of this with."
"Well, it's hard not to trust you. You've kind of been amazing."
It soothed the wounded depths of the old Shinigami's heart to hear such earnest words. You truly did trust him and he treasured that more than you would likely ever know. The mourning shawl had adorned him many long centuries. Those centuries were some of the most painful for him, yet that pain was lessened and balmed by your simple trust and affection. He treasured that.
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maybank5 · 1 day ago
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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞
pairing ⤜ yn x jj
summary ⤜ a happy future fic, because we need some healing; jj on the beach with his family reflecting on his life.
a/n ⤜ how are we doing fam? me? not so well. this has been the hardest fictional moment that's ever hit me. i'm choosing to believe our boy is still off somewhere and gonna have the best, most fulfilled and loving future. sending hugs and love to each of you!!
song inspo ⤜ no song inspo for this one; but i did have 'nights in white satin' on repeat as i wrote
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The sun is setting over the horizon, sinking down into the ocean and melting into streams of gold and orange against the shimmering water. JJ Maybank perches on his surf board for a moment, admiring it. He's never considered himself to be the most religious of people. Sure, he attended Sunday school as a kid, knows the bible stories decently enough; and yeah, there's times when he catches himself praying. Like the time John B got into that nasty accident, or when his son was born. There'd been complications, things had been touch and go for a moment. JJ had pressed his head against the glossy white wall of the hospital waiting area, hoping to God that things would be okay, as John B and Sarah rubbed his back comfortingly.
The one time JJ didn't pray might have been the one time he should. He'd been stabbed, by his son of a bitch father. Not Luke, the "real one" though JJ found it almost funny how he preferred to think of Luke fuckin' Maybank as his actual father. At least Luke had never tried to stab him. But that was beside the point; JJ had been stabbed, and things were not looking good. John B had felt for a pulse and had felt nothing. JJ can still remember the feeling of floating away, like riding a wave to the horizon. He hadn't prayed then. Instead, he'd made peace with his fate. He'd lived a pretty damn full life in 20 years, and if this was the end of it, so be it. At least on the other side, no one would be trying to hurt him, right? That sounded mighty nice to him. So he'd closed his eyes and let himself drift off towards that horizon.
Only instead, he'd woken up in a hospital, still very much alive. His best friends at his side. Pope and Kiara barely left his side, and John B had practically crawled into the bed with him to hold him in his arms until a nurse had yelled at him. JJ doesn't remember feeling such love until that moment. And that was when it all changed. He'd been given a second chance, and an opportunity to see just how loved and valued he is. He was never going to squander it or take it for granted again.
The sun is sinking lower, the water in front of him glittering in gold. JJ pushes his wet hair back off his forehead to admire it. Years ago he'd have just shrugged it off. Sunsets were a dime a dozen. Not anymore though. Now JJ takes the moment to sit and watch and appreciate.
He glances back to the shore, where his wife and baby are playing in the sand. Harley John Maybank's (it'd be a cold day in hell if JJ ever took the name of that man) new favorite thing was trying to rush to the water, his mom and dad hot on his heels. JJ could tell already that Harley was going to be a handful, and he couldn't fucking wait.
The waves were rising higher. It'd make for a sick surf tonight. JJ bites his lip, turns and paddles back to the shore. Some priorities rank higher than waves.
He tucks his board under his arm and hurries over to where the two of you are building a sandcastle with Harley's little castle-shaped buckets.
"Hey, baby," you glance up at your husband, reaching out and touching his cheek with his hand, always little assurances like that to make sure he's real, "Not surfing?"
"Nah," JJ shakes some water from his head, "Much rather'd build sand castles with this little one," he ruffles Harley's head of blonde hair, glistening in the sunlight.
You can't help but smile as he sinks down into the damp sand to help Harley stuff sand into his buckets. Moments like these is when it truly hits you, just how blessed you are.
JJ gently helps Harley, his eyes so soft and full of love and devotion. Harley John is his utmost pride and joy. He's always been soft with you, but the gentleness in which he treats your son is beyond anything you could imagine.
JJ packs the sand into the bucket with the back of a little plastic shovel. He wonders if maybe there was a time he'd done this as a boy, but shakes the thought from his head. It doesn't matter. He can do it now. He can do it with Harley.
"Sarah called earlier," your voice pulls JJ from his thoughts, "She and John B are going to have Baby Jackson christened. John B is supposed to ask you to be the godfather tomorrow, but Sarah couldn't wait to tell me. You know the two of them, it's not a church thing or anything. Just The Pogues and the ocean."
"Sounds nice," JJ says, wrapping his arms around Harley and pulling him softly onto his lap.
JJ reaches for your hand, pulling you to him as well. He presses a kiss the back of your hand, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. Nothing ever feels one hundred percent real unless JJ can feel it, touch it, revel in it. He tosses his head back as the evening breeze licks through his hair.
And in that moment, JJ can't help but stop and say thank you.
Because JJ Maybank lives every day in paradise.
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goblin-jr · 2 days ago
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And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you.
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Synopsis: Y/N has loved JJ for as long as she can remember. Now, as JJ falls for someone new, Y/N’s heart is pulled in a million different directions. 
Pairing: JJ x Reader x Rafe
masterlist
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The sun was setting, casting warm amber light across the Outer Banks, painting the world in hues Y/N had come to know by heart. She’d watched these sunsets with JJ more times than she could count, usually from the old dock or one of their secret hideaways. This place, the marshes and beaches, had been their world since they were six years old. They’d grown up as each other’s shadow—two kids with wayward parents and a shared sense of adventure.
JJ had always been the loud one, fearless in the way he took on the world, while Y/N found herself quietly filling the spaces beside him, standing steady when life went off course. But somewhere along the line, her feelings had slipped past friendship. Now, at sixteen, Y/N’s heart raced just seeing JJ flash that mischievous grin she’d memorized years ago.
She wasn’t sure when it had happened—maybe during the late-night talks under starlit skies or after he’d shown up at her house that one terrible night when her parents' shouts rattled the windows. He was the only one who could chase away the dark. She wanted to tell him, but there was always something in the way. Mostly, lately, it was Kie.
Kie, with her bright laugh and easy charm. Y/N loved her, she really did, but there were moments when she wished she could be just a bit more like her: braver, more outgoing, effortless. JJ followed Kie with a starry-eyed devotion that broke Y/N’s heart, but she could never resent Kie for it. Besides, wasn’t it enough just to have JJ as a friend? To be by his side, even if she couldn’t hold his hand the way she wanted to?
This particular day at the country club was supposed to be different.
Y/N clocked in and picked up a tray, weaving her way around tables of tourists and regulars, her smile polite but practiced. Working alongside JJ made the shifts easier, though today her nerves twisted every time she thought about what she wanted to say. She’d decided that today was the day she’d finally tell him.
But as she scanned the room, she caught sight of JJ across the dining area, trailing Kie with that familiar, hopeful look on his face. Y/N’s heart sank, but she tried to shake it off. So what if JJ had a crush on Kie? It didn’t change what she had to say. It would just… complicate things.
She was so lost in thought that she barely noticed Rafe Cameron standing by his family’s usual table until he cleared his throat.
“Y/N, right?” he said, giving her a nod that was polite but impersonal, the sort of acknowledgment he probably reserved for the people who worked at his family’s club. “Is there someone I can talk to about the dinner reservations? There’s been some confusion.”
“Oh—yeah, sure,” she stammered, mentally kicking herself for spacing out. “I can take care of it.”
“Great,” he said, offering her a polite, reserved smile. “Appreciate it.”
He was cordial enough, but Y/N knew his reputation. He was practically crowned king of the Kooks, and though he hadn’t done anything wrong, she felt that familiar, instinctual distrust rise up. She turned and made her way to the reservation counter, Rafe already forgotten as her eyes found JJ again.
She could see him chatting with Kie across the terrace, his eyes following her with a soft look Y/N knew too well. JJ looked at Kie like she was a sunrise, something bright and untouchable. Kie was laughing, carefree as always, and Y/N had to look away. She couldn’t help but wish she could be like that—just a little more confident, a little more magnetic.
She took a deep breath. She’d tell JJ anyway. She’d waited too long already, right? They were best friends; he’d understand, even if he didn’t feel the same way.
But when her shift finally ended, she found JJ out by the clubhouse steps, pacing back and forth with that jittery energy he got whenever he was excited. Before she could say a word, he looked up, grinning.
“Hey! Guess what?” he said, his face lit up like he was about to burst. “Kie just invited me out on the boat tomorrow. It’s like, not a date or anything, but… y’know, she wants me there.”
The words she’d been holding in all day lodged in her throat. She forced a smile, trying to swallow the ache that suddenly felt so heavy. “That’s… that’s great, JJ. I know you’ve been hoping she’d notice you.”
“Right? I mean, it’s probably nothing, but it’s a start, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair, practically bouncing with anticipation. “You should come too. She’d love it if you came. We’ll all hang out like old times.”
“Yeah… maybe,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
JJ didn’t seem to notice the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and she was grateful for it. She didn’t want him to see the hurt she was holding back. All she wanted was to be close to him, and if that meant staying quiet, being his best friend even when her heart was breaking, then that was what she’d do.
“See you later, then?” JJ asked, giving her a quick hug before jogging off, probably already daydreaming about tomorrow.
Y/N stood there, watching him disappear, feeling her resolve crumble. She’d come so close, but maybe today just wasn’t the right time. There would be other days, right? Other moments when JJ wasn’t looking at someone else with that same hopeful gleam in his eyes.
She walked home slowly, the sunset painting everything in soft pastels, the familiar landscape feeling just a little emptier. She thought about JJ, the way his laugh sounded like home, the way he’d always been her anchor. Even if she could never tell him, she’d stay by his side.
Maybe tomorrow, or the day after that. She’d tell him someday. But for now, loving him quietly was enough. It had to be.
--
this is a short and sweet intro to what is (hopefully) a new series! Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!
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truearchangel · 3 days ago
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   “You take things so seriously, I’m just teasing you. I know you didn’t lay the egg, I’m not an idiot.” A smile pulls onto his lips and he leans on the table, folding his arms in front of him and nudging the plate away a bit. He would like for Alastor to get along with Aty, but he understood too as the one who brought that egg to life it was his responsibility and not Alastor’s. He told him to crack the eggs, Michael took it the wrong way. He doesn’t enjoy harming birds, alive or not. They were one of his favorite things.
   He had heard Alastor’s remark about coffee, but he didn’t understand that the other was declining tea. He had thought he was just stating what he preferred over tea, but would accept drinking it anyway. Michael would have gladly made him coffee if he had asked for it, Michael loved coffee himself and tended to drink it at night to keep himself awake. To escape the nightmares when they wanted to consume him.
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   The mention of the food has his gaze briefly darting down toward it, taking in the hard work that the Radio Demon had made for him and the smile tightens a little bit. “I do not lie, lying is a sin. I might not answer you directly, or answer at all if I do not wish to, but I won’t lie especially over food. It is good, you’re a wonderful cook, and the flavor is unique. Unfortunately, my pallet is perhaps a bit… more bland compared to your very ranged one. What I can tolerate easily is much less than what you yourself seems capable of handling. I do apologize for that.” 
   Thankfully, he does require much food and what he had already eaten from what Alastor made was more than enough for him. So he shakes his head at the offer of fruit and nudges his plate toward Alastor to eat if he so desired. Did he have a bottomless stomach? Was that part of his sin of gluttony? 
   “I do appreciate you cooking for me though, thank you.”
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"I did not lay any egg. It came from the store."
As if he needed to clarify. Did he look like an egg-laying creature? Honestly. While he had no true intent to consume the blasted chicken, he did not think he could harbor much affection for the thing. (Though... one never truly knew. If anything, he may be able to be relatively tolerant, as he was to the strange hotel cat, KeeKee, but he'd not told anyone about that thus far.)
Alastor continued to nurse his own food until the other returned with tea - after he'd rather specifically said that he was much more the coffee appreciator, but he supposed that fell on deaf ears. But it would not do to turn his nose up at it. He'd tolerated tea at Rosie's at least a dozen times per annum, if not more, and always it managed to be at least marginally okay.
Just not as good as coffee.
So he would take the tea offered and sip at it, saying nothing on the taste or whether or not he liked or enjoyed it. Just a small murmur of a 'thank you' given in between drinks and bites - trying his utmost to maintain his manners despite his hunger always keening loudly when he finally had food in front of him. Though Michael's attempt at describing the dish, though Alastor might have taken offense from anyone else, was met with a small smirk and a light huff of amusement.
"You don't have to lie," he said. "It is a lot by many standards. Safe, still, by mine. But you and I are not the same."
His head nodded in the direction of the fridge -
"There are fruits in there. If that is safer for you. I can finish what you do not."
Alastor would certainly not let the food go to waste, at any rate.
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