#are you guys close to figuring out who the end game is?
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yan-lorkai · 3 days ago
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Hello! May I request a platonic yandere Alucard with a reader he turned into a vampire? I think it would be more interesting if while the reader was a human they were an enemy of the Hellsing Organization but is now stuck working for the very organization they were once against.
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ a/n: I love this gif of Alucard, he looks so cute 😍😍😍. Guys, look at him, he isn't cute???
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The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the Hellsing headquarters. Shadows danced along the stone walls, whispering secrets of the night. You found yourself in a peculiar situation, one that you never would have imagined: once a fierce enemy of the Hellsing Organization, you now served as its reluctant ally — an undead servant of the very forces you had once sought to destroy.
Alucard, the trump card of Hellsing, had been the one to turn you. You still recalled the moment vividly, the rush of adrenaline as you fought against him, your last human breath escaping your lips, and then the dark embrace of eternal night. It had been a brutal battle, and in the end, he had done what no one else could: he had made you like him.
You had expected death, yet you were reborn into a life of servitude, just like he was bound to serve Hellsing.
“Are you going to sulk all night, or are you going to do your job?” Alucard’s voice echoed through the dimly lit hall, pulling you from your thoughts. He stood at the doorway, his tall, imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight. His crimson eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and something darker.
At first, you had resisted your new existence. The lingering memories of your past life weighed heavily on your shoulders. Every time you caught a glimpse of your reflection, the truth stared back at you: a creature of the night, bound to the very organization you once loathed. It was a bitter irony that tasted like ash on your tongue.
It was worse when he had brought blood for you to feed on. The red liquid was divine to you, yet so wrong you could almost vomit it.
You turned to face him, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s hard to enjoy my ‘job’ when I’m the enemy-turned-lapdog of Hellsing,” you snapped, your frustration spilling over. “I was supposed to fight alongside my comrades, not be a pawn in your games.”
Alucard stepped forward, the shadows enveloping him like a cloak. “Ah, but you see, my dear,” he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, “you are no mere pawn. You are a unique creature now, a blend of our two worlds. You should embrace this. You are part of something greater than your previous life.”
“Greater?” you echoed, your voice laced with disbelief. “I’ve lost everything. My humanity, my friends… my freedom.”
With a swift movement, Alucard was in front of you, his face mere inches from yours. “Freedom is an illusion, and you know it,” he whispered, his voice low and seductive. “You were never truly free before. You fought against an inevitable fate and by those hands, you would die either way.”
His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and an odd sense of safety. Alucard was undeniably powerful, but there was something else in his gaze — a twisted sense of affection, an unyielding desire to keep you close. It was as if you were a treasure he had claimed, and now he would do everything to protect his possession.
“Look around you,” he continued, gesturing with a sweeping motion. “You are surrounded by those who would have killed you without a second thought. But you have me now. You are safe.”
“Safe?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You mean under your watchful eye, ready to dispose of me at any moment if I step out of line?”
Alucard chuckled softly, an unsettling sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of harming you. You are mine, and I protect what is mine.”
“Great. So I’m a possession now,” you replied sarcastically, stepping back to create distance between you. “What a comforting thought.”
He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. “You misunderstand. We share a connection that transcends the bounds of life and death.”
You had lost everything you once held dear, and the notion of belonging somewhere, even in this twisted sense, was both intoxicating and terrifying.
“What does that mean for me?” you asked, your voice quieter now, vulnerability seeping through your bravado. “Am I just another soldier in your never-ending war?”
“No,” he replied firmly, his tone serious now. “You are more than that. You will learn to harness your powers, to control your hunger. In time, you will find your place within this organization, and you will become a force to be reckoned with. But first, you must accept who you are now.
A satisfied smile broke across Alucard’s face, revealing sharp fangs that glinted in the moonlight. "Embrace your power, and you may find that you enjoy this new life more than you expected.”
His words lingered in the air, a heavy promise that felt both enticing and daunting. You wanted to resist, to deny the truth of your new existence, but something deep inside you stirred — an ember of hope ignited by Alucard’s conviction.
You could still have a place somewhere?
“Fine,” you finally said, meeting his gaze with newfound determination. “If I’m going to be part of this, I’ll do it on my own terms. I won’t let you — or anyone — control me.”
As he stepped back, giving you space, you felt a strange sense of belonging beginning to take root. Despite the darkness of your past and the uncertainty of your future, there was something about Alucard’s unwavering loyalty that offered a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you could carve out a new identity within the walls of Hellsing, one that was both fierce and free.
With the moon shining down upon you, you realized that while your journey would be fraught with challenges, you were no longer alone. Alucard was there, a constant presence in your life, guiding you through the darkness, and for better or worse, he had chosen you to be part of his world.
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russeliarat · 2 days ago
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So I've encountered some WILD vague posting about the CCCC fandom and it's arguments about gore fics. I haven't directly interacted with this fandom for over a year - not because of anything bad, I just moved on to other interests to be clear, however the fact that this issue that I encountered a full YEAR ago is still a prominent issue in the fandom is crazy. And according to my boyfriend, who still actively engages with the main section of the fandom and their fanfictions, it's apparently gotten a LOT worse.
So I'm gonna be clear, I still engage with CCCC and CJ's media. I still listen to his music, I still engage with art on tumblr, as well as headcanons, I still draw HMSW (plus two of my system's cohosts are directly sourced from the media). I just haven't read the fanfiction or gone on CJFS for a while. Hearing that this has been so bad, it's come to vague posting back and forth on tumblr makes me so fuckin fed up with this shit.
Read to the end of my post before you form an opinion on this, I have nuance, okay?
Hi people, maybe it doesn't take a genius to take a step back and figure out that saying that you should be allowed to make reasonless and intense gore, abuse, and torture fics about a REAL GUY'S personification of his own personal struggles with mental health and suicide is insanely entitled /neg.
Heart, Mind, Soul, and Whole are not just independent characters from Chonny Jash. They are his (self-admitted) personifications of his mental health struggles, thusly, they are him. CJ has said that Whole is just him.
Excusing making fanfiction about intense abuse and gore and torture and cannibalism and god knows what else about HMSW on 'they're AUs' or 'they're interpretations' is not okay. Usually, I'd agree that you should be allowed to make fanfiction freely without people telling you what to do. HOWEVER! This is a real man's struggle with his mental health so I think that there are certain lines and boundaries that should be placed out of respect for CJ. Reasonless gore isn't necessarily bad, but reasonless gore about a real person's struggles is above and beyond disgusting. I've seen someone argue that saying that is government state censorship...
Guys, there is a distinctive difference between 'reasonless fluff' and 'reasonless gore'. One is wanting them to get along and be nice. The other is wanting them to torture each other. I don't think it takes a genius to understand there's a huge difference between 'I want them to snuggle' and 'I want violence to be done upon them'.
I think over the past year, I've kept this idea to myself because I wasn't directly involved and I didn't want to face the backlash at the time. Then my boyfriend got slammed in dms by someone who had these views, so now I'm pissed. I have personal shit in the game now and I cannot hold myself at bay anymore because I'm at my wits fucking end.
I think a lot of writers who delve into these intense topics should keep in mind 'what would CJ think if he saw that I was making fics about gore/abuse/torture with characters that personify himself?' Not because all gore or abuse is bad, they can be used for some wonderful symbolism or tension when pulled off with meaning and though and tact - rather, it's because some people take it way too far, sometimes without realising. I've seen a lot of people I was close to get stuck in an echo-chamber and not realise they spiraled from the headcanon that The Juno Incident was a violent blinding to something as intense as frequent abuse or gore between HMS.
I want the people on the opposing side to realise that I'm not going after gore or violence or intense themes. Some of my favourite pieces of media contain very violent, gory, abusive, intensely triggering themes, and sometimes, they are reasonless and because the developer or writer wanted to explore different forms of horror and fear. I don't personally believe that those kinds of themes should carry over to CCCC because (for the fifth time I'm mentioning it but I feel like I really need to drill it into some people's heads) the album is about a real person's struggle with suicide and his own mental health.
I'm not trying to censor anyone's views, it's just that I think sometimes there's just general common sense boundaries surrounding fandoms that are about someone's mental health.
An additional point is how often these fics tend to be quite ableist and I do see these writers project their internalised ableism onto HMS, which is a much bigger issue in the fandom since about 90% of people headcanon Heart as being somewhere on the blind spectrum and Mind as having some sort of issue with his voice that means he needs to use a vocal implant/Mind being a robot (which can very quickly spiral into ableism depending on how it's used).
Frequently, I see people portray Heart's blindness as making him weak or helpless and the same with Mind and Soul if people headcanon them as having implants or prosthetics or some form of disability and use it in their gore fics. Due to a lot of gore/torture fics using helplessness from injury as horror, it can very easily become quite ableist. I've been in fandoms with a whole month dedicated to harming their faves, and this can be an issue with them as well, not just the CCCC fandom. It can be done without ableism, but more often than not (especially in the CCCC fandom) people aren't looking for it when they write and can create ableist fics about a helpless character because their new/old disabilities.
I also saw someone talking about mischaracterisation and how that ties into this whole thing, but that's for another time because it's partially a separate topic that I could do a full length thesis essay on, so I'll do it another time.
TLDR; Don't make gore/torture/abuse fics about a real person's personifications of himself and his mental health/suicide struggle. That's fucked???
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nhlclover · 2 hours ago
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AFTERGLOW RYAN LEONARD
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pairing: fem!reader x ryan leonard
summary: a misunderstanding drives you to a island of isolation, making you question yours and ryan's relationship.
warnings: mentions of cheating/unfaithfulness, self-isolation, crying
wc: 2.34k
notes: based on 'afterglow' by taylor swift. i love me some angst with a happy ending😋
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You hadn’t meant to see it. That’s what you told yourself over and over again. It wasn’t snooping. 
His phone had lit up beside you on the couch while Ryan was in the kitchen getting drinks. It was instinct, really — just a glance at the sudden brightness in your peripheral vision. But your eyes betrayed you, catching enough of the notification to make your chest tighten.
Brooke Last night was fun! Let’s do it again soon :)
The name hung in your mind, unfamiliar and somehow venomous. Brooke. Not a classmate he’d mentioned, not one of the guys’s girlfriends. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself that Ryan was the most solid, trustworthy man you’d ever known, but curiosity — or was it paranoia? — itched beneath your skin.
You quickly stood, frantically gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag. You called out to Ryan, telling him you weren’t feeling well and you were going to head back to your dorm. He’d rushed out of the kitchen, catching you just as you were shoving your feet in your boots. 
“A-are you alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine, just need some rest,” you reassured him, hoping he’d buy your flimsy excuse. The door was open and shut, with you on the other side before Ryan could ask another question. 
The spiral began as soon as you left his apartment. Every glance at your phone felt like a reminder of what you hadn’t asked, hadn’t confronted. You replayed every moment of your relationship in your mind, searching for signs you might have missed. Had he seemed distant? Had he started texting more? Was he pulling away from you?
It wasn’t deliberate at first — not entirely. You told yourself you just needed time to think, to calm down, to process. But each day stretched into the next, the unanswered texts piling up. Hey, is something wrong? turned into Did I do something? and finally Can we please talk? Your heart broke a little more with every message you ignored.
You stopped going to his games, too — a first since you’d started dating. You simply couldn’t bear the thought of sitting in the stands, watching him skate across the ice, wondering if Brooke was sitting somewhere else in the crowd. The thought of it all felt insurmountable. So you stayed home, your own guilt a quiet, gnawing threat.
Ryan’s friends noticed. Of course they did. You’d all become close since you and Ryan started dating, and the change in your behaviours and your absence from games was glaring. Practices were off — Ryan was missing passes, his shots lacked precision, and his usual easy laughter in the locker room was conspicuously absent.
Gabe had always been the observant one, the kind of guy who noticed when something was off long before anyone else caught on. So it didn’t surprise you when he showed up at the library one afternoon, a concerned look etched into his usually easygoing face.
He slid into the seat across from you, ignoring the pile of books and papers scattered in front of you. You tried to put on a smile, but it felt weak, forced.
“How’s it going?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
“I’m fine,” you replied, the words coming out automatically. You were fine. You just needed to figure things out, that’s all. You forced yourself to focus on the open textbook in front of you, but Gabe wasn’t buying it.
Gabe leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I know that’s not true,” he said bluntly. “And before you say anything, I’m not here to grill you or get in the middle of anything. But Ryan’s a mess.”
That got your attention. You looked up, heart thudding uncomfortably in your chest. “What do you mean?”
“He’s barely talking to anyone. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. And on the ice?” Gabe shook his head. “He’s not Ryan. He’s off—like, really off. It’s like his head’s not in the game at all.”
Guilt twisted in your stomach, sharp and unrelenting. “I didn’t mean for—” You stopped yourself, biting your lip. “It’s complicated.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Gabe said. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two. And it’s none of my business. But I do know Ryan’s not the kind of guy who lets just anything mess him up like this. He cares about you. A lot.”
You finally let out a shaky breath, trying to steady your emotions. “I found a message on his phone. From someone named Brooke.”
Gabe’s expression morphed into confusion. “Brooke?” he repeated, frowning. “Who the hell is that?”
You shook your head, feeling the familiar ache in your chest. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard him mention her. And the message... it felt... off. Like something was going on that I didn’t know about.”
Gabe’s brow furrowed as he processed your words. “But Ryan? I can’t see him doing that to you. He’s... he’s not like that. Trust me.”
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” you whispered, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I can’t just ignore it, Gabe.”
Gabe sat back, tapping his fingers on the table as he thought. “Look, I don’t have all the answers, but you need to talk to him. Maybe there’s a reason for all this. Maybe there’s something you don’t know. But shutting him out isn’t going to help either of you.”
You felt torn. You wanted to believe Gabe, to believe in Ryan and the love you shared. But part of you was terrified of confronting him, of facing the possibility that your fears were real.
“I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
Gabe studied you for a long moment before leaning forward again, his voice steady but insistent. “You can. You’re stronger than you think, and this — whatever it is — it’s eating both of you alive. Friendsgiving is at my place, Wednesday night. Ryan’s going to be there, and so are you. No excuses.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but Gabe raised a hand to stop you. “I’m serious. You don’t even have to talk to him there if you’re not ready. But seeing each other in person? That’s the first step. Take it.”
The next evening, you found yourself hesitating on the porch of Gabe’s house, the soft hum of laughter and conversation drifting out through the windows. Your stomach churned with nerves as you clutched the bottles of wine you brought, the glass cool and grounding against your fingers. You hadn’t seen Ryan in weeks. You didn’t even know how to begin to bridge the chasm that had grown between you.
Before you could turn and flee, Gabe opened the door, grinning like he’d been waiting for you. “There she is! Get in here, we’re just getting started.”
The warmth of the house wrapped around you as you stepped inside, your heart pounding. The inside was warm and chaotic in the way only Friendsgiving could be — mismatched chairs pulled around a too-small table, dishes precariously balanced in a potluck array, laughter and voices overlapping in the candlelight.
You caught sight of Ryan the moment you stepped through the door, standing near the kitchen with a beer in hand. His eyes met yours briefly, widening in surprise. He looked tired — pale, shadows under his eyes, and his usual easy confidence replaced by something far more hesitant. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Jacob intercepted him, clapping a hand on his shoulder and pulling him into a conversation.
Throughout dinner, you found yourself hyper-aware of Ryan’s presence at the opposite end of the table. Occasionally, your eyes would meet, but neither of you spoke. He seemed quieter than usual, laughing at jokes that didn’t quite reach his eyes and pushing food around his plate more than eating it.
After dinner, you ushered everyone into the living room, volunteering to handle the dishes. Your offer was driven partly by a desire to help and partly by a need for a quiet moment to collect your thoughts. A few protested, but you insisted, retreating to the kitchen before anyone could argue further. The rhythmic sound of running water and clinking plates was soothing, a brief respite from the tension.
You didn’t hear Ryan approach at first. It wasn’t until his voice, quiet and hesitant, broke the silence that you turned. “Need a hand?”
“Need a hand?” Ryan’s voice was quiet, almost tentative.
You glanced over your shoulder. He was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking at you like he was afraid you might tell him to leave. After a beat, you nodded. “Sure.”
Ryan stepped closer, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt and taking his place beside you at the sink. For a while, neither of you spoke, the clink of dishes and the rush of water filling the silence. You stole glances at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes, the way his shoulders seemed weighed down.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper. “I don’t know what I did, but… whatever it is, I’m sorry.” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “And I know I should know what I did wrong, but I’ve wracked my brain and I just don’t know what I did. But please tell me… let me fix whatever I did.”
You gripped the dishcloth tightly, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. Ryan had always been the kind of person to face things head-on, but hearing the crack in his voice—seeing the way his shoulders slumped like he’d been carrying the world—broke something inside you.
“It’s not your fault,” you said, your voice trembling. “I—God, I’ve been such a mess, Ryan. I thought I was protecting myself, but all I did was push you away.”
Ryan paused, setting the plate he was drying onto the counter. His eyes searched your face, a mix of confusion and hurt. “Protecting yourself from what?”
You swallowed hard, knowing there was no turning back now. “I saw a message. On your phone. From someone named Brooke. It said, ‘Last night was fun. Let’s do it again soon.’ And I — I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know who she was or what it meant, and instead of asking you, I let it get to me.”
Confusion flickered across his face, then realization. “Brooke?” he repeated. “That’s — God, that’s nothing. She’s my mom’s friend’s daughter. She just started at Boston College, and my mom asked me to show her around. That’s all it was, I swear.”
His words came out in a rush, like he needed you to understand, like he needed to erase every doubt that had built up in your mind. “We grabbed coffee, and I showed her some places on campus. That’s it. I didn’t think it was a big deal, so I didn’t mention it. I never meant for it to come across as something… more.”
Your throat tightened as his explanation sank in. “So… you’re not—”
“No,” Ryan said firmly, stepping closer. “I’m not cheating on you. I would never, ever do that to you.”
The weight you’d been carrying for weeks suddenly felt unbearable, tears springing to your eyes before you could stop them. “Ryan, I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I should’ve come to you. I should’ve trusted you. God, I’m so fucking stupid. I got inside my own head and I-I hurt you.”
“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. His hands found yours, damp from the soapy water. “You didn’t ruin anything. Yeah, it hurt, but I get it. I just wish you’d come to me instead of dealing with it on your own.”
“I was scared,” you admitted, tears spilling over. “Scared of losing you, scared of finding out I wasn’t enough.”
Ryan’s grip on your hands tightened, his thumbs brushing gently over your knuckles. His voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable softness in it, a warmth that wrapped around your heart. “You are enough,” he said firmly. “You’ve always been enough. You’re all I want. Nothing — no one — could ever change that.”
Tears streamed freely down your face now, but Ryan didn’t seem to care. He released one of your hands and reached up to gently wipe the tears away with his thumb. “I was so stupid,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I should have trusted you. I should have talked to you instead of running away.”
Ryan shook his head, a small, sad smile on his lips. “Hey, we all mess up. Relationships aren’t perfect. But we don’t have to let this break us. We’re going to be okay. I promise.”
You looked up at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your chest ache. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know us,” he said simply. “I know what we have. And I know we can get through this, as long as we’re honest with each other. No more shutting each other out. Deal?”
You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Deal.”
Ryan let out a soft sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. “You scared me,” he admitted quietly. “When you pulled away like that, I thought… I thought I was losing you. And that terrified me.”
The idea that you’d made him feel even a fraction of the fear and doubt you’d been drowning in made your heartache. “You’ll never lose me,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears. “Not if I can help it. I’m sorry for putting you through this, for doubting you when you’ve never given me a reason to.”
Ryan smiled softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’re okay,” he murmured against your skin. “We’ll be okay.”
For the first time in weeks, the tightness in your chest began to ease, replaced by the comforting warmth of Ryan’s presence.
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magnetic-tide · 2 days ago
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oh my god! i love that everyone's reactions were pretty consistently "silly mascot antic, sure hope the game starts soon" before transitioning incredibly quickly to "we are going to witness a horrific incident"
anyway, quotes under the cut
first of course sharks reactions
Minsky: You start seeing the players’ reactions. Scotty Bowman. Mike Ricci’s reaction is hilarious. Looking at him, you can see the words “dumbass” going through his head. Ricci: That does sound about right, yeah. I thought, that’s the first time I’ve seen this. It was funny at first, and then we were like, “Holy shit, if he goes down, it isn’t going to end well.”
2 rather different red wings reactions
Ward: The feeling on the bench transitioned to we might witness some guy die. The conversation went from “I wonder how they’re going to get him down,” to, “Oh my god, we’re going to witness a guy in a Shark outfit drop flat on the ice.” It wasn’t down in their end, it was right in front of us. We were going through all the possible scenarios of how this is going to end. Kris Draper, Red Wings forward: We were kidding around saying you know what, he’s not really in the way, let’s just start the game. He was high enough that it wasn’t going to be a factor. If someone flipped the puck and went up and hit him just play it like it’s the scoreboard, blow it down and go from there.
sj sharkie's thought process
Sharkie: The next thing for me was, how do I play this off and stay in character? How do I make it that people aren’t panicking? I knew in my mind that if I started to freak out that kids, families, people in the crowd, even our own staff would start freaking out. So I had to think to myself, how do I stay in character? How do I calm myself down? How do I make this funny so that it isn’t a nightmare for people to watch? There are times I’m chewing on the rope like I’m trying to free myself like a fish that was caught in a line, making hand gestures like scissors — because fans are pointing at you.
and then of course his rescue
Gold: The safety concern more than anything was obviously for him. He had been sitting there for 15 or 20 minutes. I think the circulation in his legs was gone by then. He was hurting. He was in bad shape. I’m really surprised that he left his gear on, but that’s Sharkie for ya. Minsky: I was absolutely worried. We were on the phone with the fire department wondering if we could get a fire truck through the Zamboni entrance with a ladder, and what does that look like? Gold: It took quite a while to figure out a game plan and how we were going to either bring him down or lift him up. We decided to lift him up because he was hurting at that point. Basically it was a tug of war, but only on one end. There were six to eight of us who just got on a rope and just started pulling him up. With that many people, you could pull somebody up pretty easily if there’s no restriction. But it was a pretty tense moment. Campbell: We lowered a rope down to Sharkie, and he tied it around chest and under his armpits, and took a wrap around himself, which is kind of a terrible thing. But to his credit, he tied something that obviously held. So that was pretty scary, because I didn’t know exactly what he was doing. Pollak: They had all the folks up in the rafters trying to bring him up there, and they got him pretty close to the top but his head kind of didn’t clear the landing that everybody was standing on. Of all the people standing on that platform, I thought they were all men, but one figure jumps over the railing and it’s a woman, and she’s the one who puts herself at peril because she’s not on the platform. Minsky: She jumps out on the catwalk, and she’s not tied to anything. She’s standing on a 94-foot high catwalk trying to pull him up from underneath. Gold: Terry is one of our union local riggers, and they are fearless when it comes to that kind of stuff. She knew what she was getting into. Campbell: You can see that he’s captured under the beam. And so I knew the only way to get him would be to get out on the beam and take ahold of the rope. That’s why I got out there. It’s what you call a mayhem rescue. I wasn’t on a harness or anything, but you can see I have like a death grip on the rail behind me. Sharkie: She went out and just put enough pressure on the rope to swing me out from under the beam so they could pull me up the rest of the way. If it was me, I wouldn’t go out there without a harness and a line.
will they let jornton down from the rafters before puck drop? or is he just going to be dangling up there while the game goes on?
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just-another-siimp · 2 years ago
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Prison Break
Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Graves bein Graves, Inaccurate Medical Practice, Injury descriptions, blood, torture? kinda, death threats, reader has brief ptsd moment. as always if I missed anything let me know <3
Authors Note: Holy shit you guys we've almost made it to the end! I originally planned for this to be a 3 part series but a 4th chapter will be posted in the coming days.
There are so many people that have helped me get to this point, especially @komorebiiiiiiii, @mauveserpent and @mydogeatscoffeecups who hype me up every time I say something about what i'm writing. As always likes, reblogs and comments fuel my serotonin, so if you enjoyed this please make sure to do so!
Word Count: 5k
Enemy at the Gate || Alone || Prison Break || Epilogue
The person looking back at you in the mirror was unrecognisable, a fresh bruise bloomed along your cheekbone from where Graves had hit you. Running water was all that kept you grounded, stopping you from diving deep into your thoughts. The soft scuff of shoes against concrete flooring reminded you that you weren’t alone, despite the fact that Graves had given you the opportunity to treat your wounds you were still at the mercy of his Shadows. An impatient sigh left the young Shadow who had been assigned to watch you, from the mirror you watched him impatiently adjust his stance again. Hand gripping his gun a fraction tighter. 
Taking a clean cloth you ran it under the warm water, movements purposely slow as you cleaned the dried blood from your face. The equipment you’d been given was minimal; riodine, gauze, bandages, basic suture kit and steri strips. Just enough to stabilising your wounds and nothing for the pain, probably for the best. If you were going to make it out of here alive you had to be at your best, use the training that the 141st had drilled into you. A plan was already formulating in your mind, all you needed to do was play the long game. For now.
“Why are you taking so long? It shouldn’t be taking this long.” The Shadow’s tone was frustrated, he took a step towards you, gun gesturing to the sink. “Hurry up.”
“Are you a medic, Private?” They’d called him that when he came to collect you, from the way he acted he was fresh to the mercenary game. An easy target if you really thought about it. Dropping the cloth into the sink you looked back at him, uncapping a bottle of Riodine as you raised an eyebrow at him. 
“No.” He spoke through gritted teeth, watching as you dabbed the Riodine directly to the graze on your forehead, biting back a hiss at the soft sting. 
“Why don’t you let me focus then? Or would you like me to take longer?” Your eyes met his through the mirror, lips curling as he stepped back to his original position. Under his breath he grumbled something about being a glorified babysitter, you were just glad that he didn’t have the gun trained on you anymore. With each Steri Strip you applied to your forehead the pain in your arm grew worse, from under your makeshift bandage the wound throbbed uncomfortably dread filled your chest at the thought of it being infected. 
“Hurry it up will you?” 
“I’m taking my shirt off now, Private. If you wouldn’t mind-” 
Fingering the hem of your shirt you pulled it up and over your head, you could’ve sworn the Privates cheeks heated up under the balaclava he wore as he turned away from you. Taking a chance you swiped the stitch cutter off of the sink, slipping it into the pocket of your jeans and continuing as though nothing had happened. It was easy to look at a bullet wound on anyone other than yourself, something in your stomach flipped and you felt like you were going to throw up. Gripping the sink you closed your eyes, waiting for the faint feeling to pass you thought of Soap and Ghost hoping that they weren’t injured and trying to do their own stitches.
“You’re dismissed, Private.” The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, throat constricting as panic set in. Standing too quickly you whirled around to face the Shadow that had stalked you in Las Almas. He smirked at you. You glared back. The idea of refusing to go further in treating yourself came to mind, just to spite the man in front of you. Make his evening just that bit harder. Except Graves’ voice echoed in your mind, reminding you of the deal you had made. 
-
“Do we have a deal, Chip?” He was watching you intensely, it was as though he saw right through you. You could pretend to weigh up your options all you wanted but you’d already made up your mind, he knew that too. Nodding reluctantly you looked away from him, wincing as the restraints were cut from your wrists allowing blood flow back to your fingers. 
“I’ll tell Price to call off  Soap and Ghost, any retaliation plans against the Shadows will cease and the 141st will allow you and your men to continue with your mission.” Graves looked satisfied as you repeated his demands, remaining seated you glared up at him as he approached. 
“And if you fail?” You wanted to spit in his face, anything to wipe that smug shit eating grin off of his face,
“The Los Vaqueros will die.” 
-
“Liking what you see lil’ dove? Keep starin’ and I’ll have ta let ya take a photo.” His voice bought you back to the present, shooting him an icy glare you returned to facing the mirror. The necklace of bruises on your neck ached more, they seemed to grow a darker shade at his presence alone. Shaking your head you focused on unwrapping the makeshift bandage you’d created. From the corner of your eye you could see him leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest as he watched you work. 
Blood trickled down your forearm, dipping down to your fingertips leaving dark crimson drops by your feet as you discarded the scraps of your shirt into the waste bin by your feet. The Skin around the bullet wound was raised, redness visible even under all of the dried blood. It was a miracle that the wound wasn’t infected, yet. This time you didn’t take your time treating the wound, nor did you rush. A through and through was easy to treat, no having to waste time trying to find a bullet if it wasn’t there. You’d done this hundreds of times before, it was easy. Right? Cleaning away the last of the dried blood you almost passed out, a shaky breath slipping past your lips as you glared at the suture kit. 
You were a medic, you’d treated wounds in the middle of a war zone, you were trained to mend the wounds of the people who served alongside you. Yet you couldn’t treat your own. Tears stung at your eyes, breathing becoming uneven as the frustration set in. Alongside the exhaustion it threatened to leave you a blubbering mess. If Gaz were here he would’ve steadied you, forced you to sit until the Captain could come and treat your wounds for you. If it were Soap he’d brush your tears away, say something in Scottish to make you laugh while Ghost told you both to shut up and let him focus. It made you realise just how important they all were to you, the 141st was your family and you missed them dearly. 
“‘Aight i’ve had enough of watching ya stare at that suture kit like it’s gonna kill ya.” He’s approaching you before you can stop him, not that you think you could. It didn’t stop you from backing up slightly, hand reaching up to protect yourself out of reflex. “Now now, darlin. If I wanted you dead I’d have killed ya already, I’m just gonna help ya. S’all.”
“Riveting speech.” The Shadows hand was on your shoulder now, guiding you to sit by the basin propping your injured arm up on the sink. For someone who had his hands wrapped around your throat less than 24 hours ago, he was oddly gentle. “Forgive me for not trusting you.” 
“Could bring the Private back in? Pretty sure he was going to lose his lunch if he kept watchin ya. Don’t think he’d be that nice to you either, probably never met a medic that could never treat their wounds.” That wouldn’t be the brightest idea, he’d probably faint himself if he so much as looked at the wound let alone treat it. You glared at the man in front of you instead of responding, a last ditch effort to act tough. “I’ll take that as a no.” 
He was putting on sterile gloves, hand reaching for the needle and thread. You looked away. Silently wishing that you weren’t squeamish to treat your own injuries. 
“Do you have a name?” A distraction, that would help. 
“I do, but that’s somethin’ for first dates sweets.” You rolled your eyes, knee bouncing slightly as he took a seat gaze focused on your arm. “Everyone calls me Komorebi, it means-” 
“Sunlight that filters through trees.” You cut him off, rather proud you’d remembered the Japanese word. The pinch of the needle dug into your skin, you swore under your breath trying not to flinch away from the pain. He chuckled. 
“Surprised ya know. Not everyone does.” 
“Where are you from?” 
“Earth.” 
It went on like this for a while, you asked questions and he gave you half hearted answers. Despite the company it was a welcome distraction, before you knew it the stitches were complete and Komorebi even gave you the chance to inspect his work. For someone who wasn’t a medic it was good, better than good really. The stitches were so neat they almost outdid Ghosts. 
“These are really good- who taught you?” 
“My husband.” That’s right, despite all of the messed up things the Shadows had done they were still human. Some of them had a life outside all of this, someone to go home to at the end of a tough mission. Komorebi had finished wrapping the bandage around your arm, it was rather tight but not uncomfortable at the same time. Before you could continue the conversation he silenced you. “Communications is ready for you now, I’ll escort you down.” 
There was no chance to protest, you didn’t even have the chance to thank him before you were plunged into darkness. Another set of footsteps approached, hand tilting your head to the side baring your neck to the unknown Shadow. A sharp pinch, a muffled apology and everything stopped.  
“I don’t understand why you drugged them, what’s a combat medic gonna do-” The Private had returned, staring at your barely conscious body.
“They’re not just a combat medic, they’re a part of the 141st. That makes them a threat.” 
When the bag was ripped from your head loose strands of hair were tugged at, the roughness of the action leaving a sharp sting that brought you back to reality. The drugs were still working their way through your system, time and space seeming to move differently in the dark place that you found yourself in. It was hard to keep your head up, stopping it from dipping to your chest. Your stomach churned at the putrid smell of cheap cigarettes, bile rising in your throat as the smoke was blown directly into your face. A door opened and closed, you were left alone. It took an effort to open your eyes, when you did you were only met with more darkness. 
Blinking a few times you adjusted to your new surroundings, gaze landing on the blinking red light in front of you. It was an intimidation tactic, an attempt to amp up your anxiety by leaving you in the dark wondering what horrors were to come. For a long time you hadn’t been afraid of the dark, more so what hid in the shadows. Straining your ears you tried to listen for something, anything that would give you a hint of what was behind that door. 
You were met with nothing. 
-
Alejandro’s Safe House - Las Almas 
Since they’d arrived at the safe house he hadn’t stopped pacing, betrayal was one thing but taking one of their own, their medic, their Chip? As much as he’d wanted to Ghost, knew that he couldn’t go in there guns blazing he had to be smart, ensure the safety of Alejandro and the Los Vaqueros as well as yourself. Johnny’s anger left him almost unrecognisable, he swore under his breath muttering something about how kidnapping Chip was crossing a line no man should cross. Clapping a hand on the man's shoulder he did his best to offer reassurance. 
“We’ll get them back, Johnny.”
“We better or I’m going to kill that so-” 
A few hours had passed since you’d woken, the drugs had worn off fog finally clearing from your mind allowing you to formulate a rough plan. At first Price had been adverse to the idea of a medic joining the 141st in the field, he knew that eventually one would be needed but he’d planned on digging his heels in until Laswell forced one on him. That was until Russia, you’d proved your worth as both a medic and a soldier that day. He forced Laswell’s hand, pulling you from your current assignment just to have you on his team. He’d sat you down the moment you entered the base, joking that if he was going to have a medic he wanted it to be you. You were flattered, thinking about it made you miss him more. 
That’s why it was important for you to keep it together. Price thought that you were good enough for the 141st and you didn’t want to disappoint him. The Shadows were right, you were 141st and that alone made you a threat, medic or not.
In your back pocket you could feel the sharp pinch of the stitch cutters digging into your flesh, it wasn’t a weapon but it was sharp enough to cut through the plastic of the zip ties that bound your hands together. Leaning back against the chair you lifted your hips, fingers slipping into your pocket pulling the object out and securing it between your fingers. You weren’t sure how much time you had left alone, so you got to work careful not to cut through the whole way just enough to snap the ties the minute you had a chance to escape. 
The door swung open, slamming against the wall. The sound was so loud that you flinched, bright lights pointed directly at you as two Shadows entered the room. In the corner of your eye you caught the red blinking light stop, a solid red staring directly at you. It belonged to a camera, this was proof of life.
-
“State your name for the record.” 
“It’s Chip.”
“Not your callsign, your full name.” 
“Potato Chip.” 
The Shadow’s fist connected with your cheek, head falling to the side as pain radiated across your the side of your face. Your name was something precious a secret that could never be spilt not even to save your life, it was worth any amount of pain they threw at you to protect it. Taking a deep breath you picked your head back up, staring directly at the camera. 
“This is a direct message to Captain John Price of the 141st from Commander Graves of Shadow Company.” You started, voice firm as the Shadow behind you cocked his weapon. A silent warning for you not to say something stupid. Looking into the camera you hoped that Price understood what you were asking of him “I am sure by now that you are aware of what has happened in Las Almas, in order to ensure that Shadow company can continue their mission with no further distractions he has asked that the 141st does not retaliate in anyway.” 
“Once our mission is completed we will release your Medic into your custody.” The Shadow behind you interrupted, gun pointed at your head as he continued with his threat. “Any form of retaliation will result in immediate execution.” 
“Captain, listen to me. I know it’s hard to understand what is going on, I’m sure that you’re just as confused as I am.” The Shadows were watching you intently, trying to figure out what you were trying to say. “It’s not worth it. Please don’t disregard what I say and do it anyway.”
 Again the bag was put over your head, injured arm grabbed roughly as you were pulled upwards and out of the room. All you could do was hope that Price could understand the words you spoke with extra emphasis. Not that the message would get out to him anyway. 
They were moving you to another building, the cool bite of evening air chilling your exposed skin. A helicopter flew overhead, you were pulled along roughly struggling to keep up with the Shadow. Silence loomed once the helicopter was gone, coming to a sudden halt you strained your ears, expecting to hear a knock or a car drive by. Except there was nothing, only the familiar feeling of eyes watching you. Continuing the surface under your feet changed, gravel crunching under your feet. As far as you could tell you and the Shadow were alone, so why could you hear a third pair of footsteps amongst your own? 
Everything was moving far too quickly, the hand that had been holding you was now gone. A strangled cry was followed by a thud to your right, shuffle of feet to your left throwing you off. This could be your only chance to escape, taking a risk you snapped the zip ties. Instinct told you to pull off the hood and run, fate had other plans. The hood was pulled off, gloved hand covering your mouth and an arm wrapping around your waist to pull you back behind a car. They weren’t rough with you, not like the Shadows had been. It was as if they were being careful not to injure you further, once behind cover you were turned around. You were met with gentle brown eyes and a concerned smile. 
“Rudy..” Your voice was barely above a whisper, there were a thousand questions running through your mind. Had he been captured as well? Was he escaping and just so happened to stumble across you? Those questions could wait. He’d pulled you into a hug, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders. It was grounding, easing the wild beating of your heart as he rubbed soothing circles on your shoulder. He only released you once Ghost and Soap began their approach. 
Soap was the first to reach you, hands cupping your cheeks before checking over you. It was a tender moment, he’d held you at arms length, eyes staring into yours before pulling you into a bone crushing hug. Ghost was quick to remind you both that this wasn’t friendly territory. Even once the Scot pulled away you smiled at Ghost, shuffling over to him. His large hand cupped your cheek before patting you on the shoulder. Always the professional he was, wasting no time to arm you with a battle rifle and medical kit. He grumbled at you to stick to Soap’s six, the four of you making your way through the prison's main complex. You tried not to think that you would’ve been taken here if the Shadow had well.. made it.
A short trip up the stairs later and you were at Alejandro’s cell, Soap entering first followed by Rudy while you remained outside the cell with Ghost. You checked the stairwell one last time, checking the Shadows for Komorebi not wanting to be caught up with him again. Even if you had the others to fall back on. Hearing a commotion behind you there was no choice but to turn back, tension bled from your shoulders when you saw the Colonel alive and well, with only a bruise blooming on his cheek. He passed Ghost clapping him on the shoulder, approaching you with what could only be described as a proud smile. 
“Ah! Papa’s Fritas, you made it out of Las Almas alive.” You laughed at the nickname, shaking your head as he wrapped you up in a hug, lips pressing to your cheek before letting you go. It was hard to ignore the way your cheeks burnt, and how Soap looked like he was about to piss himself laughing at your reaction. 
“Almost made it out, got caught and ended up here.” He gave you a sympathetic look, patting your shoulder before getting back to the task at hand. Freeing the Los Vaqueros was the main priority, you could all regroup and exchange stories. 
-
There was barely a chance to register what was going on in your surroundings, the concrete pillar you’d taken cover behind cracked at the onslaught of bullets that were fired directly into it. Soap was ground next to you, returning fire as guns were reloaded on both sides. You both pushed forward, hand resting on the back of his tac vest reminding him that you were directly behind him. Helicopter blades thundered overhead, forcing you both to a screaming halt behind a divider. That was one thing that could potentially ruin escape for all of you. 
If you’d blinked you would’ve missed the RPG striking the tail of the Helo, it spun out of control and hurtled towards the ground in a ball of fire. Except no one was paying attention to the crash, instead their focus was on the green glow stick that had been thrown to the base of the wall. You suspected that the familiar figure standing atop the wall was none other than Captain Price, thoughts confirmed when the shadow of his bucket hat was caught in your sights. You and Soap were the first to reach the wall.
“On ya go Hen, I’ll be right behind you.” This was the fun part, clinging to the ascender you were up the wall in seconds, Price was quick to grab you by the wrist pulling you the rest of the way up. 
There was little time for reunions with Soap and the others close behind you, catching sight of Gaz you swore your heart skipped a beat. The distance between you both was closed in seconds, you were wrapped in his embrace as though there wasn’t a battle going on behind you. Letting go of him your fingers slipped through his before fist bumping him. A handshake months in the making, you were both uncoordinated and it sure needed a hell of a lot of work but tradition was tradition. It would be bad luck if you didn’t do it. 
“My men need cover.” Alejandro’s voice held authority, concern for his men's wellbeing something you’d always respected him for. He’d always put their safety over his own. Price nodded barking out orders to Soap, Ghost and Gaz before turning to you. 
“Chip. We’ll see you at the bottom of the wall. Go!” 
“Yes, Sir.” It was hard to leave their side but you didn’t need to be told twice, moving to the edge of the wall and allowing one of the Los Vaqueros down before you. Taking one last look at the prison complex you notice Komorebi, standing amongst the dead Shadows. You couldn’t see his eyes but it felt as though he was staring directly at you. As you began your descent to the bottom of the wall guilt crept upwards, settling in your throat. 
Was it such a bad thing to hope that he would make it out of there alive? Go back home to his husband, learn how to do stupidly good stitches. To return to a sense of normalcy even if it wasn’t deserved? Who were you to judge what he did and did not deserve? As your feet hit solid ground you shook your head, pushing the thought to the back of your mind. 
-
The soft pattering of rain against the tinted windows of the van kept you awake, the revelation of what Shadow Company and Shepard had done left you lost for words. Silence had fallen over the van like a blanket, it threatened to suffocate all of you. As adrenaline seeped out of your tired bones it left a wave of pain and nausea, the events of the last few days starting to catch up. You leaned forward elbows digging into your thighs, fingers locking behind your neck as you closed your eyes trying to force the feeling away. You could feel Gaz watching you through the rear view mirror, Price had turned around adding to the concerned looks that were thrown your way. 
“Scoot over, Bonnie.” Soap was the first to break the silence, you did as he’d asked only stopping when your hip bumped against Ghosts’. He didn’t seem to mind. Exhaustion had overtaken you, fighting sleep was hard especially when Soap closed the space between you pulling you back to rest your head against his shoulder. It was warm, the presence of both Soap and Ghost comforting until all three of you were startled by a sudden pot hole. Gaz’s voice sounded far away when he apologised, Price making a comment about revoking his driving privileges. In the commotion Ghost’s hand had ‘accidentally’ fell to rest on your arm, index and middle finger resting above the pulse point on your wrist.
“You did good in there, Kid.” He gave you a gentle nudge, keeping his hand there. You didn’t say a word, only leeching off of the warmth that Soap radiated. The hum of the engine and the rock of the van lulling you to sleep, Soaps arm eventually wrapping around you keeping you safe.
Keeping away the feeling of being. 
Alone.
-
There were no showers at Alejandro’s safe house, that didn’t really matter to you as much. Soap had bought you a cup of coffee, the first one in three days and suddenly you were reminded why Coffee was no good on an empty stomach. The bathroom was small, three cubicle’s and a metal sink that lined the wall. You were grateful that it was empty, taking a small moment to steal yourself away and focus on the silence. The water was cool as it ran over your hands, bringing it to your face you were able to soothe the warmth that seemed to cover your face and neck. 
Since returning to the safehouse you’d been smothered by Soap, he watched over you like a mother hen would a chook. He’d held your hand while Ghost fixed up the stitches on your arm, made you laugh when you thought you were about to cry. Staring at yourself in the mirror you tried to ignore the bruises that were left behind, the purple-blue hue that formed along your cheekbone. The reddish-purple ring around your neck that no one wanted to acknowledge.  No one had spoken about what happened in Las Almas that fateful night, secretly you hoped it would stay that way but from both a clinical perspective and for your report. The details would eventually have to be discussed. 
It was an overwhelming thought, having to recount what you had seen in Las Almas. Explain how you had watched people murdered in their own homes, how the Shadows had taken no mercy on the innocent few mixed amongst the cartel. There was so much blood that coated that town, suddenly the cool water on your face was no longer comforting. You felt too warm, too crowded in such a small space. 
Behind you the door swung open looking through the mirror you saw him, Komorebi stood at the entrance staring at you with emotionless eyes. Fear overwhelmed you, hand reaching to your hip where your gun had been waiting for you. By the time you’d turned around the Shadow had disappeared, instead replaced with Price, whose hands were raised but no real look of concern on his face. Not one that screamed ‘don’t shoot me’ at least. 
You swallowed thickly, blinking back tears as your hand fell to your side. He lowered his hands, keeping them visible showing that he was not a threat to you. Opening your mouth to apologise nothing came out, all you could do was look away ashamed at your actions. It was your job to protect these men, yet here you were about to point a gun at your own Captain. 
“Sorry I startled you.” He started out softly, footsteps slow to approach eventually stopping leaning against the sink next to you. There was silence as you calmed down, he waited for you to speak to him not forcing you into anything. It gave you the chance to even out your breathing again, though it didn’t change the way your heart hammered in your chest. 
“I’m sorry, Sir. I thought-” 
“You went through hell in Las Almas, Chip. I’m not mad at you for being on guard.” Satisfied that you were calm enough now he shifted his position, coming to stand in front of you arms folded over his chest as he leaned all of his weight into his left leg. He wasn’t mad at you for almost shooting him, that news alone was enough for the tears to start streaming down your cheeks. “We would’ve come anyway, regardless of whether or not you thought you were worth it.” 
Deep down you weren’t crying because Price didn’t care that you’d almost gone and shot him, the emotions you’d tried so hard to push down were flooding your senses. A choked sob was all that left you as Price pulled you to him, hand resting on the back of your head as he held you close. Swaying gently while your hands clung to the back of his jacket, soft sobs filling the bathroom as he let you cry. 
“It’s alright, love. You’re not alone anymore.”
Taglist: @komorebiiiiiiii @mauveserpent @mydogeatscoffeecups @reiya-djarin @underatreedrinkingtea @blueoorchid @poohkie90 @kult6 @watermaylon-writes @boxofgasoline @cumbersome-robes @frazie99 @bowserowser @urfavsunkissedleo @kyuupidwrites @omgitstatertot @justpeachiixx @trashy-panda777 @msecho19 @spinkeydinkey @whoreforhorror
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year ago
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Let the revenge games begin.
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vaguely-concerned · 14 days ago
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I was just ambushed within the turbulent halls of my own mind by some headcanons about rye ingellvar's childhood that did 15000000 points of psychic damage to me and my heart personally and also made me almost sure of how I want to play it all at the end (very very differently from how I imagined going in!). some 'oh holy fuck this changes everything' rocking my own world bullshit going on in my neurons right now I'm reeling
#I'm sorry to say that despite what I expected I think the dread wolf might be going down violently on my first run???#not because *I* love solas any less but because of who rye is and some of the twists I know happen down the line#which does make for a neat thing b/c I meant to play the crow I'm going with second as initially incredibly hostile#and then growing to feel for him and redeeming him at the end.#so if rye starts out very reasonable and sympathetic and then is brought to 'haha. no. fuck you forever for that in particular' at the end#...a pleasing cosmic symmetry in it I must admit. perfect and also makes me feel a bit sick#I'll try to put together something coherent eventually but for now#it's sort of a 'my name is ellaryen ingellvar you killed the guy#that my brain went 'close enough welcome back beloved and much missed deceased father figure' over. prepare to despair and die'#I think just the killing part might not have done it but everything that comes after? rye is a chill guy until he finally decides#that enough is fucking *enough*. and that was the most enough of all time for them#it also explains rye's accent (one of his primary caregivers growing up was a dwarf)! so many birds with one stone here#also I am so fucking sad now and I did it entirely to myself. I love fiction I love games (embarassingly genuine)#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#oc: ellaryen ingellvar#thank god that the romanced solas playthrough is the second one tho that does make things less dire haha#adaar would have given it the good old college try to get solas to change his mind right to the end I think#but even his capable hands and politician's mind could not hold back the sheer beware the fury of a patient man storm#that is about to hit solas for the shit he just pulled. I think rye and solas are -- as it turns out -- TOO alike in many ways#...solas buddy I'm so sorry I'll come back for you on the second playthrough and make it right I swear fhsak#it's just that a second dead dwarf dad has joined the chat to haunt the narrative (and this time it's fucking personal frfr)#it's almost scary how quick I've gotten attached to my rook tho. I've waited A DECADE to save this bald elf man from himself#and then rye shows up with steel in his normally kind eyes going 'no. I want that fucker *dead*'. and I just go anything for you babyboy#I'll see what we can do. unspeakable stuff
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crest-of-gautier · 1 year ago
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made an eeny bit of progress in pq today... im like maybe 80% through the 3rd floor of you in wonderland and currently level 11...!
#pq#lizz.jpg#lizz.txt#i love how i say 'eeny' as if i did not play for like four hours. LOL.. i think i wanna play in smaller chunks next time#yall... i have so much fear of those gosh darn card soldiers... i dont want to know what my life is going to be like if they give f.o.e.s-#more gimmicks... THEY ARENT BAD I JUST. I REALLY DONT LIKE THE F.O.E. STARING AT ME#my (ougouoguough) of the f.o.e.s is so real that if i have energy i would totally make a doodle about it#dont really have much interesting things 2 report... i think next play session ill probably end up finishing the labryinth#it seems pretty close to done tbh esp since i stopped b4 the room with the three fucking f.o.e.s and im like#'i do not have the mental energy to figure out how to do this' (they say and proceed to write a text wall)#and im guessing we'll get to see the investigation team after finishing the labryinth?#the games being like REALLY silly right now but im like. squinting so hard at zen and rei you have NO idea how sus these guys are to me#not to go against my 'im not intelligent on this blog' policy but theres something about a thing that elizabeth said early on thats like#alerting the lizz sus radars. she said something like you wouldnt find living humans here and that they might theoretically be an entity-#that merged w/personas and shadows AND TO ME THIS IS A HGUE RED FLAG???#LIKE.... me just looking at how RYOJI fucking mochizuki is a thing and im like “ah i see now why they set it before ryoji” BECAUSE !!! AAA#because at this point sees wouldn't have met an entity like ryoji who is fucking shadow that is humanized by minato so uh like#if they met ryoji and were past dec 2 AND THEN PQ'D IT UP then they'd look at zen and rei in addition to what elizabeth said#then IDK WHAT IM SAYING BUT LIKE ZEN AND REI HAVE TO BE SOME KINDA ENTITY AND I DONT KNOW WHAT#for shits and giggles ill say death bc i like death as a thematic thing LMAOOO im a really delulu little guy rn dont talk to me#um. im being really normal right now yeah uh this should've gone under a read more oops ill do that next time#for my own sanity i will NOT go into what thoughts are brewing in my head (hypothezing what time the p4 cast was pulled from-#BUT ALSO THE WAY TEDDIE ALSO falls into elizabeth's description UGH screams into. a bucket.)#anyway for. something. thats not me spitballing i hope that i can see yosuke soon.. i want him in my party!!!!#i rlly like the game mechanics and while zen and rei have been great 2 start with they cant equip subpersonas... ough#ok thats. thats all. i did not expect to text ramble but (THIS IS ME WE ARE TALKING ABOUT i cannot shut up)#im having fun though!!!! its been nice to play smthn else for once LMAO i wonder how much ill get through b4 the month ends
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simpjaes · 3 months ago
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CUNNILINGUIST ― s.jy (ft. p.sh)
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Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.
minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog to give bestie jake conflicting feelings
WORDCOUNT― 16.1 k
PAIRING― jake x afab reader (ft. sunghoon)
CONTENT― a lot of waiting, like to the point it even annoyed me, very fluffy stuff , typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, jake is whiny and needy when he’s horny, reader thinks it’s cute. angst if you’re a baby about it
OTHER CHARACTERS― sunghoon as the mutual friend who bangs reader
NOTE― this was originally written by me on my other blog [@/ncteez], if you’ve read it before, that’s why!
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― BIG DICKED BESTIE, pussy eating (he gets IN THERE), masturbation in the form of dry humping a mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, cum eating, sunghoon hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up,raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cheesy love stuff 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“What? Again?” Jake says, leaning back against the couch with a groan and a smack to his own forehead.
“Yeah, so basically he went down on me for less than a minute but expected me to, like, go long enough to ‘swallow’ or whatever.” You continue the story in a frustrated huff, shaking your head in self-pity.
Jake groans louder, leaning himself forward again and swiping his drink from your coffee table to take a long and thoughtful sip. 
“How many times is that, then?” He says between sips, glancing around the room as if he’s in deep thought. “I can’t help but think you pick these kinds of guys on purpose at this point.”
You look at him in mock pain, grabbing his drink and taking your own thoughtful sip of it.
“I dunno, they always talk big game during phone sex and stuff. I figure eventually one of them will live up to it.” You drone on, internally marking your recent date’s name off of your call-back list. 
“Be honest with me, have you ever actually gotten good head? Like how would you know if they’re bad if you have nothing good to compare them to?” Jake asks, letting you mindlessly drink his beverage.
It’s not weird to be having these types of conversations with him, if at all, something would seem off if you didn’t. He’s the only person in your life that you’ve ever felt this close to. At this point, you think he’d have to chase you down with a bloody hatchet for things to be awkward. Which is…kind of interesting, you guess.
“Well, I mean,” You think for a moment too long for his liking, but he gives you the space to finish your answer. “It feels good and all but it’s not like I’ve ever gotten off by it.”
“Correction –” Jake starts, blinking right at you. “You’ve never been given the chance to get off on it.” His bright  smile shows through his words, and you’re sure he’s mocking you at this point.
“Yeah, yeah. Yada, yada. I have terrible taste in sexual partners but to be fair, it’s not like the pool is that big to choose from.”
He nods in agreement, humming as if to end the conversation and still watching you sip at his drink.
“Would you be opposed to–” He pauses, making eye contact with you. “Y’know, I could do it for you.”
You pause, nearly dropping his drink out of your hand but thankfully your grip actually tightens on it instead. You swallow as you look at him, searching his face to see if this is some kind of joke.
“Jae-fucking-yun,” You deadpan, sitting his cup back down on your coffee table and leaning toward him, staring him down. “You’d really do that, for me?”
You bat your eyelashes at him, mostly playing it off as a half-joke just to see if he’s fucking with you or not. 
“How else are you gonna experience it?” 
You stare him down harder.
“You say that like you’re some sort of pussy-eating-god,” You narrow your eyes. “Are you?”
He shrugs casually with his little smile, leaning back on your couch and stretching his arms out. One of his hands lands behind your shoulder and you lean into it. 
“I’d let you be the judge of that if you’re up for it.”
Finally, you decide that he’s definitely not joking and you’re definitely gonna do it because like, that’s your best friend. Experiencing your firsts with him comes almost as naturally as walking. You had your first kiss with him, albeit it was a dare. You experienced your first concert with him, your first break up, your first failed exam, and even your first legal drink in a club. What’s so bad about letting him eat you out?
“Right now?” You ask, quirking your brow and tilting your head.
“Now, tomorrow, next week. Whenever.” He runs his hands through his hair as he says it and only now are you starting to really tune into his features that you’ve already found handsome.
Day after day you’ve seen him on this couch and in other states of dress without really thinking twice about how his lips would feel on you (despite that short first kiss). You’ve seen him kissing all up on other people, you’ve seen him in the club with wet lips from alcohol, you’ve seen him all messy and eating spaghetti at his parent’s house– but for some reason, his lips seem different now. His sleepy eyes seem different, his messy hair seems like something that should be tugged on, his fucking jawline– 
“Why’re you staring at me like that?” He looks at you up and down as if he’s judging. “You wanna go right now?”
You nod slowly, letting the traces of any lusty thoughts you’ve had about him in your life come to the front in waves. Then you quickly shake your head.
“Wait, no,” You roll your eyes more at yourself than him. “I haven’t showered since my date, maybe I should, uh…”
“Uh – yeah. Please do.” He grimaces, that same dopey smile coming back after a moment. 
“Fair.” You roll your eyes. “Gonna go shower then.” 
Part of you wonders if like, he’s being totally legit. For all you know, you’ll get out of the shower and he’ll be too busy doing something else, or like, he’ll go home or something. No hurt in seeing though.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
In the bathroom, you can’t help the feeling in your chest at even the thought that this may be about to happen.
Excitement. That’s what you feel. Not because it’s Jake. Well, maybe a little bit because you wanna see what his tongue is all about but more so because you’re about to get some presumably good head.
You shower thoughtfully, cleaning every part of your body and feeling little goosebumps rise and fall with each sensation of your air conditioning snaking its way past your shower doors. When you get out, you lotion your body so you’re all nice and soft and brush your teeth just in case things go a little further. You’re not expecting it to, but y’know, nothing wrong with having fun if it comes to it. 
After all, he’s doing you a favor by going down on you, the least you can do is smell good, be soft, and totally prepared for if he were to suggest more, right? Right. Anyway, you’re all showered up and opt to just let your hair do its own thing as you throw on your shirt and shorts. You ignore the panties at this point, because why not?
When you get back to the living room, Jake isn’t there. Naturally, you check your bedroom and there he is, still his normal self and lounging against your headboard while flipping through videos on his phone. 
“And she’s back,” he comments, reaching a hand out as if to invite you to your own bed. “Change your mind yet?”
“Not even for a second,” you smile as you take a spot in front of him, your entire body facing him as you pull your knees up and lay your chin against your arms. “Have you?”
He seems to fall into a more serious tone now, locking his phone before tossing it to the side and flicking his eyes up to look at you, scanning your legs in the shorts. 
“No,” he chokes back, shocked to see straight between the gap of your shorts and actually lay eyes on the point of this whole situation for the first time. “And you’re not wearing anything under those shorts.”
You watch his face and the way it turns from your best friend into something you’ve seen time and time again from men you’ve gone home with. It’s sexy on him though, for some reason.
“Figured I’d save you the trouble?”
He smiles, now moving himself toward you and reaching a hand behind to cradle your head. 
“Lay back,” he says softly, in a voice you’ve only heard a few times from him, “you could have left the shorts off too though.” He adds with an even softer laugh.
For some reason, it makes you feel shy. His hand guiding you to lay back all while grabbing the pillow from behind him and placing it under your head so that you’re nice and comfortable.  You watch him look at you and honestly, it’s in a way you can’t remember him ever looking at you before. If this is how he looks at other women, you may be a little jealous. 
It feels more intense right now than you thought it would.
“You’re being weird.” You say offhandedly, looking away from him and trying to keep the heat from flushing to your cheeks. 
“You’re letting me eat you out, how am I being weird?” He leans up from you, putting two hands on your knees but still waiting for your eyes to meet his again. “You want me to act like the other dudes? Dip my tongue in then wrap it up?”
You groan, rolling your eyes back to him and analyzing the way his big hands drape over your knees. 
“Okay, fair.” You admit defeat, feeling his warm palms move down the back of your thighs and to your ass. 
“Lift up,” He says, quickly pulling the shorts off of you when you do as he asks. 
“Oh–” He gasps quietly. “Damn.”
He stares directly between your legs, bracing his hands back at your knees and spreading your legs a bit. He angles his head in different ways to really look at you, seemingly enamored with your pussy as a whole. 
“Look who’s staring now.” You chuckle, instinctively hiding your face from him despite knowing he isn’t looking up at you.
“Yeah– I am,” he admits, now adjusting himself on the bed to lay down, his head easily slotting between your legs as he rests his chin on your lower belly and looks up at you. “You can pull my hair or do whatever, I’m just gonna…like, start I guess. Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”
As normal as this isn’t, he’s speaking similar to how the two of you had taken on projects before. He typically takes the lead but offers you control more often than not. All you can do is nod at him, trying to comprehend that it’s your best friend’s head between your legs right now.
When he pulls his head back up with one last nod of confirmation, the first thing you feel is his fingers slipping up your folds, the other braced on your thigh and holding your legs open. You release a short sigh of relief at the feeling and he instantly smirks at it. 
“I haven’t even started yet,” He whispers, glancing up at you before fixing his eyes back on the expanse of your pussy. He uses his ring and pointer finger to spread your lips open, and the middle finger to rub against your hole only for a brief moment before he licks his lips and releases his own sigh of relief. “God, Sunghoon would be so jealous right now.”
You look down at him, wanting to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about and why he’d bring up Sunghoon right now, but you find yourself staring at him instead. Breath caught in your throat with the way his eyes meet yours before letting his tongue hang from his mouth as if presenting it to you in a cheeky way.
He’s so fast with it too, with the way he replaces his middle finger with his tensed tongue, forcing you to swallow your words and hold your breath even more. You can feel him lick and nibble against each of your lips before moving inward, flattening his tongue to lick one long, languid, and wet stripe up until meeting your clit. 
He wraps his lips around it, sucking once, hard, before releasing it and pulling back to look at you.
“This okay?”
Goddamn him for making you have to talk right now. You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that he said Sunghoon, fucking Sunghoon of all people would be jealous that he’s doing this right now. That’s definitely a question for later, because yeah, it’s fucking okay. 
More than okay. 
You nod to him, throwing your arm over your eyes and instinctively bucking your hips up towards his hovering mouth. 
“Oh, that was hot,” He groans out his compliment, watching the way you hide your face before he pulls his eyes back down and uses his fingers to spread your pussy open wider, enough to see your hole pulsate when he dips down to blow against it, “I can see how wet you’re getting, Is it because of me or is it just because someone is playing with your pussy?”
You half groan half moan at that, mostly because hearing these words from him is something that feels entirely too sexual. As if he hasn’t already tasted you, as if you’re not spread out by his fingers right now. You ignore his words, yet, your brain holds onto them with white knuckles and your hips buck toward him again.
“Not a talker, got it.” He notes, watching your hips chase his breath. 
He watches for much longer than you’d like for him to, and you’re about to lift up and accuse him of being just like the other guys but he shuts your thoughts off so fucking fast when you feel his lips on you again. 
His tongue explores every part of you, licking and sucking against areas you didn’t even know would feel good until his mouth lands against your clit again. This time, you can’t help it, you grind up and he hums at it as he braces your legs open just enough to skew his head and move his tongue back down. 
He’s slurping. Lost in the moment as he does it. Tasting you in full and getting a warm, pleasant feeling each time your legs try to close and your hips buck up for more. He…can’t believe this is finally happening. Fucking finally.
Unsure if you’d let him, he tries anyway. He stiffens his tongue, circling your hole before pressing just a bit, giving you just enough pressure that you feel frustrated. So frustrated that you’re the one who ends up finishing his attempt at something new. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, and let out a soft, needy little moan for him. 
That sound forces one from his chest too, he can’t help it, really. With the way you’re grabbing his hair and holding his head in place, pressing yourself against his mouth so much harder than before. Ah, he really, really loves doing this for you. 
To think any man would already be done? To think anyone could like, not wanna eat you out? Insanity. Stupid, stupid fucking men.
He can taste how wet you are now, truly taste it as he stretches your hole as much as he can with his tongue and another groan of his own. It’s probably embarrassing, truly, but he doesn’t care. 
Both of you are moaning at this point as you hold his head in place and grind your hips harder than you think you are. He loves it, you love it. So much that you really are barely comprehending that your best friend could do this the whole time?! And never told you until now?!
Jake is just as drunk on the moment as you are though. Totally lost in the scent and taste of you as he continues to lap away, constantly trying to prove that you can and will get off from his mouth alone. And honestly? It’s at the point that he figures he can use his fingers now too considering you let him spread you open with his tongue. What’s a little more gonna hurt, anyway?
The taste of you alone has him in heaven, cursing any man who didn’t take advantage of your pussy against their mouth. He can easily slip a finger into a hole this wet and needy, gasping in awe before glancing up at you. 
God, the way you immediately ride his finger, no huff or sound of irritation that he’s pulled his tongue back now. Your face. Fuck. 
He watches as you shamelessly chase the small amount of pleasure he can offer in terms of just head and fingering. He can imagine how hot you’d be without that shirt on, with your legs around his hips, with your mouth wrapped around him. You look blissed out, soaking his finger and keeping your hand in his hair, mindlessly grabbing and scratching at him. 
Making quick work, he goes back for your clit, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and noticing how you ride his finger harder. He can’t help but smirk against you when you do it either. 
The movement of your hips constantly humping against him is enough, and he can’t help but groan at the sound of your slick squelching out of you and warming his chin, he can’t fucking help but grind his own hips forward when you act like this. His cock is so painfully hard for you right now, at the taste of you, that all he can do is chase the mattress beneath him. Tensing his muscles and moaning against your clit shamelessly at the jolts of pleasure he gets from it. 
He slips another finger in with ease, feeling how much wetter you’ve gotten in the way the slide is filthy and audible. You groan out at that too, feeling his tongue flick relentlessly against your clit and only now moving your free hand from your face and trailing to your stomach. 
You can’t even talk, so you don’t. You lift your shirt up until you can at least rub against your nipples, just to heighten the pleasure your best friend is so graciously giving you.
His eyes roll back when you do that, only to fall back on you and get a frustrated grunt from him. He’s a bit annoyed that the shirt is still covering you despite your hand under it, fondling yourself. He’s thinking with his cock, so fucking aroused that he doesn’t think twice when he aggressively lifts your shirt up to your chin and watches the way your fingers poke and prod at yourself.
He inhales a sharp breath at the image, and his hips fuck harder against the mattress at that. His fingers speed up and now he’s focused. You feel him all over you from the waist down, his tongue flicking and lips sucking against your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, your fingers heightening those sensations by playing with your own tits– then, oh, then you notice. 
Jake, you’re best fucking friend, is so goddamn horny that he’s dry humping against your bed and whining out moans against your clit. Probably to avoid asking for more, to avoid making you feel obligated to get him off too, to avoid anything you may not want or consent to. And that’s why he’s your best friend.
It doesn’t take long after that, your hips come to a stop as you watch him get himself off all while getting you off, and you find your orgasm bubbling up much faster than if you’d have imagined solely because of the image in front of you.
“Jake, you’re fucking whining.” You groan almost as needy as he does, rolling your hips up in a stutter. 
He was almost gonna stop, because yeah, he is whining. Gasping for air but only tasting you, only swallowing up the moans you give to him, only inhaling the dull scent of the fruity soap you used when you showered. But, you moan louder after you say that. You like it. You like seeing him act so desperate. So he continues, shamefully reaching one of his hands between himself and the bed and quickly shoving it down his pants, circling around his cock and continuing to fuck into it. 
If he thinks hard enough, you’re what he’s fucking right now, and technically, he is. With his fingers and mouth at least. When your hips stutter more, he fucks harder against his hand and holds his fingers inside of you as deep as he can get them. There, he sucks against your clit until you’re the one whining louder. 
You’re shocked at how quickly you’re getting off. Releasing a splash against him in a breathy, choked up sob. Nearly squeezing his head between your thighs to the point he almost misses the way you breathe out strings of praises toward him. But he hears them. 
He definitely heard you say that he looks sexy with your hand in his hair, and god, did he ride off of the fact that you encouraged him to get off with you. Regardless of if you knew if he could or not, regardless of if you knew his hand was providing just enough pleasure for him to do just that. 
There, as your orgasm subsides with his tongue still flicking your sensitive clit, you watch him writhe his hips against your mattress, his eyes slammed shut, and his breath coming out in pornographic moans. So this is what Jake looks like when he cums. It’s desperate, but somehow, it feels passionate too.
You’re all dazed after the fact, pussy pulsing and tingling from the loss of his lips and fingers once he pulls back and lays against your bed with a lazy smile. His pants are uncomfortable, but he doesn’t mind as he wipes his hand across his shirt and watches the way you catch your breath. 
“So,” He tries to say, clearing his throat. “I– um– hope that’s what you needed?”
You’re shy. You’re never fucking shy, especially towards Jake, but god. 
“Um, yeah,” you sigh out, lifting from the bed and looking back at him. Part of you wondering if that’s what it’s supposed to be like when someone gives you good head, or if that’s just…what it’s like when Jake gives head.
For some reason, you genuinely don’t think another man would ever eat you out to that level again. There’s no way, based on experience. 
“It was definitely what I needed.” 
He nods in a shy way, reminding himself that his pants are fucking nasty right now. So, he goes to stand up and extends a hand out to you. 
“Let’s go clean up.” 
You shake your head, not at all wanting to move from this bed. He nods again, pulling your shirt back down for you and leaning to look at you. 
“I’m gonna bring you something to clean up with, and I’m gonna shower.”
You smile at him, a bit dazed as you make yourself comfortable on your messy sheets as you think hard about the fact that this dopey motherfucker really never told you how good he was at this? Rude.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake looks all proud of himself when he comes back to your room and cuddles into bed with you much like he always has. 
“I didn’t expect to sleep over, I have work in the morning.” He whispers in a rasp against your back, curling around you like the perfect big spoon. 
You’re quick to turn on his work alarm on your phone, like you always do when he crashes during weeknights. Because, what best friend doesn’t have alarms set for each other anyway?
After a few more long moments of silence, you try to talk. Mostly because your brain is swimming with the fact that, like, you’re not sure but it’s just– wow. 
“Hey, um–”
“Hmm?” He hums out in a sleep-heavy voice.
“Did you actually enjoy doing that?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” His sudden louder voice causes you to jump, but you relax back into his gasp. 
“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”
“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responds with mock-confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him, as if to hide the way he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. For his own comfort, really.
You smile.
“And don’t tell other dudes my secrets.” He adds.
“I won't.”
Jake has his own smile from behind you, wondering if he really is just that good at eating pussy. The truth is, he’s done it a handful of times but he was just really really interested in doing it for you. For…reasons.
・・・・・・THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TWO PARTS, NOW IT’S ONE. YOU’RE WELCOME・・・・・・
“Hey, um,”
“Hmm?” Jake hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice.
“Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice. 
“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”
“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” 
You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.
It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Jake went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.
Nothing changed.
In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Jake. Sweet, caring, aloof, Jake. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.
Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward. 
You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands. 
It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him. 
Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough. 
You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did. 
Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Jake is different though. You knew he would be too.
Why is Jake any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?
He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm. 
You haven’t gone on any dates since that day, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.
So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.
That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Jake briefly mentioning Sunghoon to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time. 
Why would Sunghoon be jealous of what happened? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Jake was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend. 
Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him. 
So, texting Sunghoon? Easy. 
Thankfully, Sunghoon texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Well, Sunghoon sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Jake for the past couple of hours. 
You lay here in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you. And yeah, you did fucking enjoy it. 
But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Sunghoon a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Jake, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place? 
Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Sunghoon and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time. 
God, if only Jake would just talk about it.
And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability. 
And, well, you wake up much the same, except Sunghoon was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does. 
“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.” 
You quirk a brow. Right, Jake is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.
“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?” 
You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now. 
“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked thighs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.” 
You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Sunghoon must offer to all of his lovers. 
You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Jake for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts. 
“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you. 
“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Sunghoon whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.” 
You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Jay? Heeseung? Fucking Jungwon? As fucking if. 
“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.” 
And he listens. Sunghoon goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging in as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Jake isn’t the only man who can please you now. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Sunghoon did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Jake did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him. 
Even so, you know Jake will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Sunghoon around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened. 
You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Sunghoon. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already. 
Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Jake, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant. 
“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Sunghoon and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even two hours after you left. 
“What?” Jake responds in confusion  to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?” 
“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed. 
“Oh god, something happened.” Jake groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?” 
“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.” 
Something is off, Jake can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him. 
“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Jay mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?” 
“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Sunghoon.” 
You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Jake reacts.
“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Sunghoon? Why?!” 
God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Sunghoon that day, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Sunghoon has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold. 
“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.” 
You refuse to pick up on Jake’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting? 
“Sunghoon? You want to fuck Sunghoon?” He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying. 
“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it. 
Jake hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.” 
He really thought he was the one who could do it for you. 
“Yeah, but–”  Jake starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in. 
Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over. 
He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you. 
He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Sunghoon? 
By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Sunghoon managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it. 
Whether you’re his or not, Sunghoon never should have been a fucking option. 
So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop. 
You must be talking to Sunghoon, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Jake has heard that Sunghoon knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying. 
To Jake, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do. 
He calls again. You don’t answer.
Again.
“What?!” You answer, annoyed. 
“Why would you even want Sunghoon?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all. 
It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care? 
“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Sunghoon. We aren’t dating, Jake.”
“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Jake argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart. 
“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”
Pause.
“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks. 
“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Sunghoon is sending you and listening closely to what Jake might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.
“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”
You’re fucking appalled.
“Jake, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”
Jake sighs along with you on the other end of the line. 
“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Sunghoon’s tonight.”
“What?” Jake’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!” 
It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Sunghoon an option? Knife to the heart, honestly. 
Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this. 
You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Sunghoon.
“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.
“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he does….again.” An inhale. “ Yes! I’m fucking jealous!” 
You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips. 
“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”
You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “I’m going to kick his ass.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?” 
The confirmation of Jake being the friend who forbade Sunghoon from making a move on you is right there, clear as day. 
“Ah, so the Jake I know isn’t the Jake everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.
“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”
“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to get me off? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?” 
Jake sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation. 
“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.” 
“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!” 
“I’m genuinely shocked you didn’t know already. Made me think you weren’t interested enough to like–” He pauses, not wanting to be too telling. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”
You let him continue, because you can tell he���s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you. 
“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest. 
”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of it. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”
You listen to him breathe deeply, again. 
“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”
There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you. 
“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Jake. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”
“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”
“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?” 
“No,” Jake sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.” 
“And this is you.” You confirm. 
“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.” 
You pause at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Jake you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore. 
Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you. 
“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Jake tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you. 
“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?” 
“Are you still going to fuck Sunghoon?” 
You laugh. 
“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.” 
“Get better jokes, asshole.” 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“What the fuck?” Jake deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!” 
“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Sunghoon shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Jake, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”
Jake slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes. 
“You’re such a dick– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Sunghoon with you, the person he wants the most. 
“Damn right you don’t, because she seemed to have a great t–” 
“Sunghoon, stop. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.” 
Sunghoon’s brow raises in curiosity. 
“Ah, did you finally make a move?”
If there’s anything Jake knows Sunghoon won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Jake made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman. 
Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.
“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”
Sunghoon lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past. 
“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Jake for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-” 
“Sunghoon.” Jake warns. “Shut the fuck up.” 
“Relax, jesus.” Sunghoon plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.” 
Jake rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Sunghoon becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you. 
Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs. 
Sunghoon could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Jake, ever. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has. 
Jake comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t live. 
Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.
You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Jake working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first. 
Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard. 
What if he doesn’t show up at all? 
You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”? 
God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again. 
You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That’s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value. 
Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Jake was nothing but a one time thing for his sake. 
And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags. 
“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.” 
You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him. 
“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags. 
You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you. 
“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like that.” 
You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Jake is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.
“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug. 
“Two days too long, though.” You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back.  “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can still make it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”
You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling a bit let down. You wanted more, especially after that hug. The fact that he can contain himself right now feels isolating. Are you the only one who has a vibrating brain right now? He really wants to have the conversation at the restaurant? 
He really wants to do this the right way?
You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Jake’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling. 
“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off. 
“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.
You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you. 
“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself. 
You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.
“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.” 
Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow. 
“I think I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “Even if I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me– I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”
He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand. 
“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now. 
“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”
Jake snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him. 
“To be fair though, Jake, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”
“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant. 
You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order. 
Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing. 
“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you. 
“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table. 
“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him. 
Especially after having to be in this stupid fucking restaurant in the first place.
He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit. 
“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?” 
God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing. 
“Jake, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you want to tame yourself a little bit.
“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.” 
Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you. 
“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”
You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Jake’s eagerness to have you in full, finally. 
“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?” 
You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you. 
“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”
An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Jake. 
You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him. 
For Jake, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night. 
Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the right moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight. 
Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back. 
What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the moments he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses. 
Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant. 
You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway. 
Jake, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet. 
“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.” 
You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Jake’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this. 
It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over. 
“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Sungh-” 
“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Jake squeezes you tighter against you, hating himself for constantly bringing up reasons to wait. 
“If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Sunghoon’s name is forbidden.”
You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way. 
“Deal. Now, can you fucking hurry?” You roll your eyes playfully, internally a little thankful for the short moments you will have to prepare yourself for this. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Damn this shower for feeling so good. Jake could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.
It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more. 
It’s not a hook up though. Jake is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…
He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is. 
You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of it. 
Then, he’s faced with a dilemma. 
You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Jake may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.
Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you. 
Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out. 
“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–” 
Fucking pause.
God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship. 
Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you. 
You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.
“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time too,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”
That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed. 
Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own. 
The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek. 
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”
Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.
Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically. 
“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist. 
“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.
He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now. 
Never has making out gotten him this turned on, and it’s not a surprise because it’s you. 
He half moans, half chuckles into your kiss when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against. 
“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.” 
You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.
Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his cock between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next. 
First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck. 
At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. His nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.
You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your breast. 
He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips, and he begins to nibble. 
And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.
“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?” 
You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit. 
He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.
He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples. 
Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time. 
As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you. 
“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally breathes out, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pressing your loose shorts to the side just to get the taste of you against his lips again.
Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every dip and crease of your cunt. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much. 
The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you all he’s got. 
All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react. 
Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state and made you forget about the restaurant, the shower, the weeks of pining before this. His mouth is so warm, and his vibrating moans sooth your clit through its desperate attempts to beg for more. 
You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue he’s giving you. 
He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king. 
Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers with intent, and he pulls back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.
“Fuck.” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick. 
You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers. 
“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, I can feel you squeeze my fingers–” 
And it’s true, he’s seeing stars solely because he can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…
His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the thought, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you. 
You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated digits to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation. 
You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing your shorts to stretch against the crease of your thigh. 
He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants. 
“Keep it spread open–” He mutters when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been holding your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it.”
God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole. 
You let out a pleased sigh, despite your shorts becoming a nuisance at this point. It’s easy to forget you’re still wearing them though, because they only become drenched more and more as the moments pass with Jake.
You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for. 
“Jake–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.
There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can in this moment. 
His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if or when he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.
There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down to take over for him.
In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.
He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours. 
And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, your shorts being stretched until they’re sliding down your thighs and off of you, and then the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time. 
His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you. 
“Yeah?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. 
“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.
And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.
“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and expect me to be gentle…” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”
You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most. 
“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself. 
“Oh, fuck–” He chokes out before sucking in a breath and letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point. 
“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation. 
That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have. 
Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your shoulders, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels. 
He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes white when the stretch hits you.
So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you at all, actually
“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Jake, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is. 
It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer. 
Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet. 
“Shh–” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.
His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now. 
You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against you before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second. 
His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.
Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again. 
His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that’s only becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding. 
“Yeah, yeah–” Jake suddenly chimes with out of breath words, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his and picking up a different pace.
This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again. 
“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.” 
Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Those words feel so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true. 
You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head. 
That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly how he wants you to feel. 
“Ahh, you like that?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more. 
“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you’re confident like this–”
He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by them from this point forward. He truly doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to make an attempt to fuck you the way he does. 
And then the room falls silent again, as if Jake is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place. 
His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act. 
You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to cum? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate? 
None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking and timidly looking down at you. 
“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you. 
You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.
There, he loses himself, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full. 
“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Fuck, I really can’t.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his strings of cum ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense. 
It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.
You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.
And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–
“What the fu–” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Jake, Fuck–yes, right there.” You continue to groan when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm. 
You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone is enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.
Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm. 
You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster than he offered before.
And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.
Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles. 
You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes. 
“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone. 
He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you. 
A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he finally rolls off of you and right up against your side. 
“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud. 
“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.
“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Sunghoon see you act like that too?” 
You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him. 
“You’re insane if you think Sunghoon is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”
Jake glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in.
“Well,” He starts, pausing and feeling that little pit in his stomach return. “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.” 
You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are. 
“Jake, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”
He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach. And then? He groans. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached. 
Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Sunghoon without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.
Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed down by pining or lust. 
As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it. 
Romance isn’t dead, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it. 
4K notes · View notes
trianglegoddess · 5 months ago
Text
Feral McGee™
It starts with the Joker. 
His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he? 
Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again. 
The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does. 
It happens like this. 
The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair. 
Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham. 
And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair. 
Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up. 
He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold. 
Then he looks towards the camera. 
“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves. 
Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham. 
“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”
“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”
The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler. 
He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes. 
While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely. 
Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch. 
They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. 
“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”
The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black. 
Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless. 
“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”
“Hn.”
After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised. 
Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on. 
Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down. 
Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.  
He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again. 
And then the Joker escapes. 
It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after. 
Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up. 
They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™. 
The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid. 
Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed. 
“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say. 
They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger. 
“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood. 
“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”
Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it. 
In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him. 
When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker. 
“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”
The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”
“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice. 
 “Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”
“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 
“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”
“Hn.”
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incognit0slut · 11 months ago
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The Last Laugh
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Spencer is forced to share a room with his rival. This is part two of Lose Control but can be read as a standalone.
warnings: sexual tension, a lot of banter, female oral, edging, rough sex, unplanned creampie (is that a thing?) words: 5,3k a/n: someone requested a part two with a one-bedroom trope and since this is one of my favorite stories, I had to do it
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...Thinkin' you're winnin' with all of your grinning but I got the last laugh...
"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH REID."
The idea was absurd. Ridiculous. Insane. Out of all the people in her team, why was she paired up with him?
According to Garcia, the only choice she had to spend the night in this remote town was with the person she least wanted to engage with. Did Garcia not know how much she had been trying to avoid him? How much she had been attempting to act as if the mere proximity with him wasn't making her lose her mind?
"Why not?" Garcia asked, handing her a key. "He's not that bad of a roommate, well, if you overlook his tendency to share random facts in the middle of the night, then he's really not that bad."
"Do you not hear yourself?" She steadied her gaze to her friend. "You want me to share a room with the person I hate the most?"
Garcia rolled her eyes. "You guys really should stop with this nonsense. You're both grown adults."
"I'll treat him like an adult if he starts to act like one." Her eyes drifted toward the man of the hour, standing at the other end of this old-looking hotel that seemed too close to falling apart, engaged in conversation with Luke. She then glanced back at Garcia. "Why can't he share a room with Luke?"
"Because I'm sharing a room with Luke."
She shot Garcia an incredulous look. "You're rooming with Luke? Since when?"
"Since always. We're buddies, remember?" She cocked an eyebrow and Garcia sighed. "Don't look at me like that, we're just friends. Besides, you and Reid are the only ones left without a roommate. Consider this your opportunity for personal growth or whatever."
"Personal growth? More like a crash course in patience. And what's the deal with Reid anyway? Why does he always have to be the exception?"
Garcia leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Well, let's just say Luke and I enjoy our peace. Reid, on the other hand, is like a walking encyclopedia. I figured it's your turn to experience that charm up close."
She scowled, a mix of annoyance and resignation on her face. "Charm? That's a generous way to put it."
Garcia stared back with an air of nonchalance that only seemed to amplify her exasperation. "Look, it's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"
She shot her friend a withering glance as if the absurdity of the situation needed no further clarification. "The worst is that I might end up committing another crime in this town before the night ends."
Garcia raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You're exaggerating, Reid is harmless. Plus, all the other rooms are fully booked. Consider yourself lucky we even found a place to stay."
"Lucky is not the word I would use right now."
"Just try to survive the night without killing each other," Garcia chuckled, ignoring the glare shot towards her way. "Give him a chance."
Her incredulous stare intensified. "A chance? Garcia, the man tried to argue with me about the most efficient way to organize my desk. And you know what's ironic? His own desk is a complete mess."
Garcia sighed, her playful demeanor softening. "One night, Y/n, that's all I'm asking."
She pursed her lips together. She could go on about how bad it would be to share a room with him, but the thing was, it would raise questions she did not want to answer. There was a limit to how much her disdain could stop her from entertaining the idea, and her avoidance, she realized, was more than just mere hatred.
Annoyed that she couldn't do anything to escape the situation, she shot a disapproving glance at him, who was still engrossed in conversation with Luke. With a resigned shake of her head, she turned back to Garcia.
"Whatever." She sighed, begrudgingly accepting the key Garcia handed her. "But if he starts reciting facts about, I don't know, the history of dental floss or something, I'm blaming you."
Garcia laughed. "Fair enough." She shoved her shoulder playfully. "But who knows, maybe you'll discover he's not as bad as you think."
That was the problem. Spencer Reid, in her eyes, was starting to... change. And she hated that. Why was the man she had never bothered to befriend occupying her mind more than she wanted him to? Was it because she now knew what it felt like to have his body pressed against hers? What it felt like to have him grunt in pleasure right in her ear? Just because they had sex?
Nope. Nuh-huh. She wasn't going to think of him differently tonight—or ever, for that matter.
She gave Garcia one last glare before making her way across the creaky floorboards toward him. Noticing her presence coming close, Spencer looked up and a slight tension filled the air as his gaze locked with hers. She quickly shook her head.
"You're sleeping on the floor," she declared with a point of her finger when she reached him.
A small amused smile played on his lips. "We're sharing a room?"
"Unfortunately," she grumbled. She then focused her attention on Luke. "Do you want to switch roommates?"
Luke chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm stuck with Garcia. Besides," he patted Spencer on the shoulder, "Don't act like you're not eager to spend the night with him."
Her eyes went wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Luke simply shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and walked away, leavingher staring at Spencer with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What did you tell him?"
Spencer frowned. "Nothing." He sighed when her stare didn't back down. "Nothing, I swear. Luke tends to have his own way of interpreting things."
She narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment. She turned on her heels, not waiting for him as she walked to their destinated room. She felt his presence close behind her but kept her mouth closed.
Spencer, on the other hand, found the situation amusing. He really shouldn't find any entertainment in her visible annoyance towards him, but he did. He couldn't help but notice that despite being angry, she still looked unbelievably attractive. The scowl on her face, her pursed lips, her chest heaving in anger. He took a step closer.
"This must be hard for you," he commented.
"What is?" she shot back, maintaining her brisk pace.
"Staying the night with me when you've been avoiding me."
Her jaw tightened. "I haven't been avoiding you."
"Really? So you haven't gone out of your way to avoid looking in my direction ever since what happened?"
Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, refusing to show any vulnerability. "That doesn't mean I've been actively avoiding you. It just means I have better things to do than engage in pointless conversations."
Spencer raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Pointless conversations, or conversations you're trying to avoid?"
She shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. "You know," he began again. "You do seem to be acting differently ever since that day."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Spencer couldn't resist a faint smile at her denial. "You really don't know what I'm referring to?"
She huffed, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The narrow hallway seemed to amplify the unresolved tension between them as they stopped right in front of their room. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her annoyance.
She tried to ignore him by unlocking the door, but as she pushed it open, she felt his presence looming behind her. His proximity was so close that she held her breath as he gripped the edge of the door in front of her. His breath brushed her neck and her eyes involuntarily fluttered close when his other hand slowly rested on her waist.
"Should I help you jog your memory back?"
Her eyes shot open. She shoved him aside and stepped into the room. "No funny business, Reid. Keep your dick in your pants tonight."
His laughter lingered in the air as he followed her inside, closing the door behind him. "The question is," he taunted. "Can you keep it in my pants?"
She scoffed. Who was he and what did he do to the Spencer she once knew? The guy she remembered lacked any humor and always kept his distance from her. It was hard to believe a simple encounter—could you call sex as simple?—had turned him so crude, or maybe, she considered, this was his true self all along.
She decided to ignore his words as her eyes scanned the cramped room, containing only an old dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed, which she pointed at assertively. "That bed is mine."
His brow furrowed. "Why do I have to sleep on the floor?"
"You want me to sleep on the floor?" Her hand gracefully moved to her chest in a dramatic gasp. "Where is your chivalry, Dr. Reid?"
"We could share the bed."
She simply stared back at him, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and incredulity. Spencer, unable to resist stirring the pot, shot back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, it won't be so bad. Did you know that the concept of sharing a bed has been a cultural practice for centuries? It symbolizes unity and—"
"Reid," she interrupted, shooting him a pointed look. "If you're trying to annoy me, you're doing an excellent job."
He grinned, clearly enjoying her irritation. "I'm just stating a fact. Sharing a room, sharing a bed—it's all deeply rooted in human history."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I highly doubt our situation is deeply rooted in anything other than poor hotel arrangements."
Spencer chuckled, undeterred, his laughter resonating in the dimly lit room as he took a step closer to her. The worn-out floor creaked beneath his feet, echoing the subtle tension that lingered in the confined space of the room. "You never know. We might be making history right now."
She shot him a skeptical look, her gaze unwavering. "I doubt historians will be interested in this disaster."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this skeptical, or is it just reserved for me?"
"It's just reserved for annoying people," she retorted, not missing a beat. She took a deliberate step closer to him, the air thick with a blend of tension and... something else. Her heart quickened as his gaze swiftly swept over her lips before dragging back to her eyes.
"Really?" He closed the distance between them, and she held her ground, tilting her head back to meet his gaze due to his towering height. A subtle trace of his scent hung in the air, his presence enveloping her. She felt a sudden shift in the air, her senses heightened, and her eyes traced the contours of his face—the sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth reflected in his hazel eyes. She also could sense the initial surge of longing coursing through her body.
Shit.
"Believe it or not," he added, his voice a low murmur that resonated in the confined space. "I find your company quite fascinating."
"Fascinating?" She responded, but it came out more breathless than she had intended. She took a deep breath, trying to act as if his close proximity wasn't affecting her. Her pulse, however, betrayed her composure. And it was evident in her voice. "T- That's a stretch."
"Really?" His lips curved into a subtle smile, catching the shift in her demeanor. "I think there's a small part of you that's enjoying this."
"Enjoy what? Your random facts and annoying habits?"
Spencer leaned forward. A tension crackled between them, and it swam in his eyes and played on his lips. It pulled at her chest, making her heartbeat flutter in her throat, and to her surprise, he extended his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch left a searing sensation on her skin.
"Admit it, you're starting to see a different side of me."
She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge his point. "One night doesn't change anything."
"You're right." His hand made its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "It can change everything."
Before she could register what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, holding her still as his lips crashed on hers. A thousand things flooded her mind all at once—each of them revolving around him. The way she melted into him felt oddly natural. The way his hands began to roam her body, the way her mouth opened for his tongue, the way her kisses became hungrier, also felt natural.
Which was bad. Really, really bad. This wasn't supposed to happen. One time, she could call it a mistake. But allowing him to have his way with her for the second time... there was no one to blame but herself. She should push him away and set the boundaries she was supposed to set the moment he invaded her personal space. But it was hard to think rationally when he tasted so good.
It was hard to stand her ground when his teeth softly nibbled her bottom lip. It was hard to think straight when she was already pulling hard at the locks at the base of his neck as his tongue explored her mouth, blindly walking her back until her back was pressing onto the wall.
"Look at you," he laughed against her lips. "You're not pushing me away."
"Shut up," she hissed, trying her best to keep her tone icy. But then again, it was hard to stay angry when he was touching her like this. His greedy hand traveled up her thighs, massaging the plush flesh. His fingers finally found the hem of her pants, and he swallowed her moan when they dipped underneath the material, slipping right underneath her panties.
Her breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between her folds, spreading her slick before finding its rightful place on her clit. Spencer didn't hesitate when he started rubbing at her nub, smooth and deliberate, it made her toes curl and her body jumped in a moment of surprised bliss.
Her sound of pleasure was music to his ears, urging him to satisfy her even more. He was quick when those same fingers dipped inside her core, her inner walls tensing at the sudden yet pleasurable stretch. There was a distinct sound along her needy whines, wet and slapping as his palm makes contact with her clit every time he was knuckle-deep inside her. Her head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed—a sight Spencer secretly wanted to commit into his memory.
Without even noticing it, her hips started grinding to chase his fingers, desperate to reach that familiar pleasure twisting in her core. Her movement didn't go unnoticed by him, an amused, deep chuckle reverberating from his chest while he pulled his fingers out of her, rubbing her clit aggressively, knowing it would make her reach her high faster.
"You're going to cum, aren't you? This quick?" She glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not giving him an answer. His smile widened at her resistance. "Do you think I should let you?"
Her heart quickened its pace, knowing well enough what he was about to do. He was going to tease her, or as she liked to think, he was going to torture her by not giving her what she wanted. Her theory was proved right when he leaned down, his face inches away from hers, a sly smile on his lips.
"Beg me."
She quickly shook her head. A hand snaked up her back until it found the base of her skull. His fingers brushed through her strands before gripping hard, sending a jolt of pain down her spine as he yanked her head back.
"Beg me."
"Fuck you—ah!" A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through her, pushing a moan from her that filled the room like a ringing bell—a bell that signaled the fact that despite how much she knew she shouldn't, she was already surrendering to his touch.
"No?" He taunted, his breath brushing against her ear. "Then I'm not letting you cum."
And just like that, the pleasure rippling through her body was ripped away.
He swiftly pulled his hand from under her pants with a smirk she wanted to wipe off before turning his back to her, leaving her all flustered. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing to grasp the situation. She loathed him. She really did. She despised the way he was so full of himself.
With a determined exhale, she shook off the flustered feeling that lingered. He may have momentarily unsettled her, but she was not one to let her guard down easily. She was not going to let him get under her skin. If he could make her sexually frustrated, then so could she.
If he was going to play dirty, she was going to get filthy.
Her shirt was the first thing that came off. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down over her legs. Dear god, she was going to regret this, wasn't she? But she couldn't stop. Not when the rustle of her clothes echoed in the quiet space and Spencer turned around, jaw slacked, a startled expression crossed his face as he watched her.
"W-What are you doing?"
There. That was what she wanted. That priceless, wide-eyed, disbelief face. She had to keep going.
"Taking matters into my own hands."
Her hand reached around to unclasp her bra before she intentionally took her time sliding the straps down her arms, enjoying the way his jaw clenched as you did. Eyes still focused on him, she tossed it to the side. Her hands lowered afterward, and an audible gasp escaped his lips as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down her legs.
"You're always so smug," she murmured, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Thinking you have control of me."
Right hand reaching up, her fingertips just lightly swept the length of his stubbled chin, just below his lips. The corner of his mouth only drew up further at her touch. She smiled at his reaction, and her fingers dropped down to grip his chin firmly.
"But I can satisfy myself just fine."
And then she pulled away, the smirk now missing from his lips as she backed out of his reach. She then settled on the bed, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spread her legs wide open. She watched as a breathless sigh escaped his lips and smiled triumphantly, especially when the bulge growing in his dark pants was impossible to ignore.
With her gaze lingering on his steadily growing erection, she trailed her hand down her stomach, the tips of her fingers paused just over her clit. "What's wrong, Reid?" She hummed out, watching his chest heave. "You seem to be speechless."
Because he was, how could he not be when the pad of her middle finger slowly started to lightly circle over her clit. He watched as she teased herself, fingers gliding between her folds, gathering her arousal before slipping a finger inside. She gasped, the wet sound was audible even to her own ears as she gradually pumped her finger in and out.
He took a step closer, and her fingers moved faster as his eyes raked over her body—her luscious breasts fully exposed, legs spread apart, fingers between her thighs. A faint moan fell out of her, her eyes partially closing all the while her fingers never ceased their movement, vigorously thrusting into her cunt.
She then proceeded to put on a show for him, throwing her head back and rolling her hips. He was standing close to her now, eyes focused on her body, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. Her cunt immediately clenched at the sight of him, a bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. The sight sent a surge of warmth through her body, spreading from between her thighs to her cheeks as her fingers quickened in pace and her legs spread farther for him to see.
He was trying to hold himself, it was obvious in the way he held his composure. But then she watched with satisfaction as he stalked towards her, and just because she wanted to fluster him, she couldn't help herself from letting out a needy whine as she slipped her fingers out before rubbing her clit desperately, her eyes boring into his.
"Spencer," she moaned.
That was precisely when he lost it. He didn't even hesitate. He marched straight to her, and her finger stopped in its movement as she watched him settle between her legs, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and roughly yanked her over the edge of the mattress, and she fell on her back with a squeal.
"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" He sneered, his warm breath brushing over her heat. "Fine, I'll let you win this time."
A gasp escaped her lips when he wasted no time leaning in, burying his head between her thighs. He wasted no time as she grabbed onto the sheets, feeling his tongue draw circles around her clit before flicking up and down at a rapid pace. Her thighs tighten around his head. and her whole body trembled beneath him, encouraging him to move his tongue faster.
His fingers dug into her thighs, holding them apart as he took his time. Ever so slowly he licked up her slit, gathering her juices on his tongue until he reached her clit, groaning every second of the way until she was shivering beneath his touch. She was breathless, mind buzzing and the room spinning as he thrust his tongue into her warmth, face becoming so deep between her thighs that heat rushed through her body.
When her thighs trembled and threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag deeper inside her. With a roll of his tongue, he was lapping at her walls, swallowing every drop until the second he heard her begin to whine.
It was embarrassing, letting him hear how worked up she was. But she couldn't help it, not when she was losing control of her mind and body. Her hips were starting to buck to meet his tongue. Her jaw slacked. Low moans spilled from her lips as he continued to ravish her, and her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her to hold onto her sanity as waves of pure overwhelming pleasure took hold of her.
"Oh my god," she whimpered, voice two octaves higher before growing silent. She was so, so close to the edge, his tongue relentlessly sucking her clit, licking, swirling over her entrance until her mind fell blank from the bliss. The heat began swelling from between her thighs, tension tightening and all she did was screw her eyes shut.
But seconds before the pleasure was nearly too much to bear, he suddenly pulled away.
"Reid!" She hissed, looking down between her legs. "You're fucking annoying."
He looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes, then his mouth parted a second before his tongue swiped over his lip to taste the remnants of her arousal. "What?"
Unbelievable. After pulling that stunt, he had the audacity to feign innocence. She huffed and opened her mouth to retort something but when he started to undress himself, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind was too busy taking in his slightly toned arms, his broad chest, his slim waist, and that patch of soft hair trailing down his stomach, disappearing underneath his pants.
And that was gone too, and now he was standing without any shred of clothing, and it then dawned on her that they were both very much naked. Their first time in that dusty storage room happened too fast that they didn't bother taking off their clothes, but now she had the time to sink in the way he looked wearing nothing but a smirk.
"I didn't bring a condom," he said as he climbed onto the bed. Like that was going to stop them, it didn't stop them before and it most definitely won't stop them now.
"It's fine," she mumbled just as he settled between her legs again, but when his eyes lit up at her words, she smacked his shoulder. "But you're still not finishing inside me."
He merely hummed a reply. Then seconds later he was lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance. His eyes meet hers as he teased her, and she noticed the smirk appear once again on his lips. She pushed her hips toward him, gripping his arm irritatedly, and released a breathy 'hurry up' before she could change her mind.
He wasted no more time pushing himself into her without warning, earning a gasp while he stretched her completely. He pressed his body into her, allowing her lips to collide with his and moan into the kiss when she felt him pull away just enough to slam back into her with one harsh thrust. His hands suddenly reached for her wrists, and he gripped them above her head, pushing them onto the mattress.
His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she quickly shut her own as he pumped himself into her cunt over and over again. His motions were aggressive, sloppy, and wild. The moment a particularly deep and brutal thrust hit her at the right spot was the moment she finally gave in to weakness as she let out a loud moan, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.
Then he pulled back again, and his thick cock slid out of her partway, glistening with her juices, splitting her pussy apart around it before snapping forward, his hips going at a brutal pace, making her whole body bounce from the contact.
"God, you feel incredible," he groaned out just as she gasped from the intense pressure of him inside her, head falling above her, jaw slacked, sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes fluttered open before exhaling a heavy breath, feeling him tightening his grip on her wrists. "We need to do this more often."
Though she didn't say it, she agreed with him. And it pained her to even consider making this a habit. But it was tempting. It was so tempting that the thought of having him inside her anytime and anywhere had her clenching around his cock, earning a low grunt deep within his chest.
Then something snapped inside her. She had started off holding back, keeping herself in check against the rising wave of sensations. But then, in a moment that felt like a long-awaited release, she decided finally to let go when he continued to hit that perfect spot inside her, and she almost felt ashamed at the noises she was making. She wasn't as vocal when she was alone, nor with other men, yet the man she claimed to hate earned every whimper, every desperate moan.
Hearing her cries urged Spencer even more. He leaned over to her and pushed himself deeper, earning a gasp from her as her legs fell apart even further, letting him sink himself as deep as he could. He pushed her hands above her head and hovered above her, letting his temple fall against hers as his hips rutted violently.
The pressure rose and the tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Sweats beaded over her skin just the same as him, crying out for him, moans mixing with filthy noises of him thrusting into her wet cunt. His powerful thrusts then quickened, causing her to grow weak her body began to quiver in his grasp.
She cried out, wanting to warn him she was growing close to the edge, her mind growing numb, everything around her fading into black. But didn't give her the chance to speak before he pressed his mouth on hers in a heated kiss, all sloppy and wet and desperate, latching on her lips with so much fervor.
She felt him everywhere. On her lips, biting on her soft flesh. On her breasts, his chest rubbing against her hard nipples. And between her legs, his cock stretching her deliciously, a pleasant feeling that had her whining against his mouth.
But before she could whimper anything else, the pleasure erupted inside of her, red hot heat unraveling to every limb. Her release was a fiery blast—white-hot and overwhelming, turning her into the image of destruction. Her hair stuck to her skin, her back arching off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as his cock hit her deeper. She succumbed to the bliss, eyes shut tight, and her furrowed brow as she surrendered through her orgasm. 
He held her tighter, pumping himself into her as she finally let go, calling out his name in a breathless whimper. She came so hard her legs were shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't stop. He pounded into her harder, reveling in the way she fell apart for him.
"I-I'm close," he grunted. "Where... where do you want me to—"
"Inside."
He looked down at her, trying to hold himself to not combust right there and then. "Are you—" he groaned when she clenched around him. "Are you sure?"
She was already too deep in her climax that any worries faded away. It was like time slowed down, and all that mattered was the intense sensations taking over her body. It was wrong, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to be full of him.
"Yes. Please, just—please," she whispered. "Cum inside me."
It was enough for him to let go, chasing his own pleasure inside of her, hitting deep within her walls as her own arousal dripped out around him. The slick and messy noises mixed with his groans filled the room, heat continuing to rush to her face as her entire body became overly sensitive.
With one final, sharp inhale, the bliss took hold of him. His hips slowed as he began to release inside of her, filling her up with a few huffs and grunts, creating a bigger mess between her thighs. He thrust one last time as the last few drops spilled from him, continuing to press his body against hers as closely as possible.
Then everything went silent except the sound of their ragged breathing. He pulled out of her with a heavy sigh, just as spent as her, breathless beyond belief. He collapsed on the bed, his chest rising up and down as he tried to gain some sense of control, his mind trying to grasp on the euphoria that happened moments ago.
"Well that was—"
She quickly nodded beside him. "Yeah."
Spencer turned his head towards her, and she could already feel him gloating that before he had the chance to say anything, she covered his mouth with her hand. "Do not say anything."
His reply was muffled underneath her palm, and she didn't understand what he was trying to say. She didn't even bother wanting to listen to him anymore. So she got off the bed, wincing when she felt the mess dripping down her thighs as she walked over to the bathroom.
"Where are you going?"
"Taking a shower," she called out. "I feel... sticky."
She then heard some rustling and she turned to see him hopping off the bed, following behind her. She narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going?"
"I feel sticky too."
"Spencer."
His lips twitched into an amused smile. "You called me Spencer."
She groaned and turned around. "We're not showering together, Reid."
"Why not?" He pressed, following her behind. "I promise to be on my best behavior."
She looked at him, assessing the way he was practically begging with his eyes. She was pondering whether it was a good idea to spend more time with him in an enclosed space. Probably not, but considering all the filthy, nasty things they had done, sharing a shower seemed harmless. 
"Alright, fine," she caved in, letting out a sigh. "Just keep your hands to yourself."
He nodded eagerly, but she should've thought better when the spray of water finally hit their bodies and he closed in around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her waist. Then he pressed her against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and it was safe to say that he could not, as a matter of fact, keep his hands to himself.
Not that she was complaining.
.
a/n: I know this was supposed to be enemies to fuckable enemies but they're really starting to grow on me, they kinda cute
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nctsworld · 1 year ago
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fever pitch
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✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k
SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.
WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!
RATING | mature
AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!
TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen
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Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.
Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.
Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—
Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.
But one in particular catches your eye.
Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.  
In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.
You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.
And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.  
Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.
“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.
Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.
Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”
Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”
Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”
Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.
“Want your usual?”
“Yes, please!”
However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—
“WATCH OUT!”
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With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.
“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”
You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”
“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”
Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.
“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”
All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.
“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”
You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”
You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.
Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”
Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.
Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.
“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”
“How would I know how to reach out to you?”
He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”
You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?
“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”
His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”
“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.
“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”
Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”
He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.
“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”
At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”
Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.
Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.
While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”
Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”
Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.
“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”
Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.
Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.
“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”
When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”
He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”
You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.
“Your head good though?”
You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”
In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”
Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again. 
But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.
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On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?
Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation. 
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”
Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”
“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.”
Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.
And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.
“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”
The camera’s now on Mark’s face.
The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.
He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.  
From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.
Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.
He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.
Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.
All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.
“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”
Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.
Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”
Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?
“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.
But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.
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The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow. 
You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.
Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.
Because for you, it’s game time.
Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?
The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.
As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.
This is perfect timing for you too.
However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—
And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.
Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else. 
But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.
Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.
“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”
His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”
He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.
“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”
At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.
Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.
He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”
“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”
After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”
You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles. 
Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”
“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.
“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”
“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”
“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck. 
You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”
“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”
“You don’t owe me anything—”
“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”
This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market. 
“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”
Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”
“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”
As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”
“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”
Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”
“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm. 
Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually. 
“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”
Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh. 
“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.
Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark. 
“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.
“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.
After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.
“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.
“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.
He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.
“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”
“Yes, definitely!”
Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.
“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.
Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.
“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.
Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.
“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”
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After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.
As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.
In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.
He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.
Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.
“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.
You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.
Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.
He twists around with his visor open.
“Ready?”
You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.
Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.
On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.
In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.
Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.
The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.
Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.
However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.
You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.
The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.
By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.
When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.
Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.
“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”
He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”
As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.
Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.
Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.
“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”
“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.
After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”
Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”
He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.
“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”
Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.
Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.
He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...
Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.
You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.
And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.
Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.
An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.
You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.
“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”
“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”
The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.
At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.
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Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.
Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.
The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.
His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).
It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.
Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.
Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.
Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.
Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.
“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”
It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”
He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.
“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.
“Neither do I.”
And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.
Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.
He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.
When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”
You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.
It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.
“Mark, please, just—”
Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.
The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.
Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.
With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.
As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.
“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.
“Huh?”
“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.
You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”
“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.
“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”
Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.
His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.
You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.
Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.
But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”
Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”
“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”
Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.
“You close?”
You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.
It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.
“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”
Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.
When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.
“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”
“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”
In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.
Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.
Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.
God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...
“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”
He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.
“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”
You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.
Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.
Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.
More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.
As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.
Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.
“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.
But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.
“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.
“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”
You hesitate with closed eyes.
“Could I... ride your arm?”
Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.
“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.
Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”
“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”
“Yeah?”
Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”
Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.
Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”
He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”
You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.
Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.
His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.
“This okay still?” you breathe.
“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”
You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.
“Oh, God,” Mark pants.
You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.
“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”
It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.
Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.
Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.
The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.
Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.
He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.
At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.
He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.
Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.
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As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.
There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...
And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...
It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.
He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.
Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.
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EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER
Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.
Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.
With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.
“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.
The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”
“Oh, my God, Chenle...”
“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”
You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”
“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.
Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.
Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.
“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.
“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”
Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”
“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”
Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”
“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”
You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.
“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”
In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.
After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”
You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.
“And you have me,” you add jokingly.
He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”
The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.
Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.
Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.
You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.
You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.
That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...
Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.
But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.
And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.
He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:
“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."
Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.
Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.
All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.
You immediately say yes.
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bee-wg · 3 months ago
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Year 4:
Beep Beep Beep Beep
“Oh my god, uncle! You’re gonna burn the house down!” Theo yelled.
“David, What happened? Is your hand bleeding?” Mom screamed
“Ahahaha, it’s nothing Chloe, don’t worry about it. I was just trying to make everyone a surprise breakfast,” Dad said.
“It’s nothing? There’s fire on the stove!” Mom said frantically.
“I got the fire extinguisher, don’t worry. Just a little mishap,” Dad said, trying to cheer them up.
“Uncle, you’re bleeding all over the fire extinguisher! We need to get him to the hospital,” Theo said.
“Hahaha, I guess I am a little clumsy,” Dad said.
Beep Beep Beep
“Someone please turn off the fire alarm, it’s stressing me out,” Mom asked
“What’s happening?” I asked, half asleep in my Pajamas.
Sometimes life surprises you, one moment, you were having a sweet dream. Then, you’re driving your bleeding father to the hospital in Pajamas. The new SUV does feel nice to drive, at least.
“I’m fine, guys. I think it must be the sugar. If I would’ve put more in it, this wouldn’t have happened,” Dad said.
“David, I love you, but don’t you EVER pull stupid stunts like that again,” Mom said, leaning on Dad’s shoulder.
Apparently, Dad wanted to surprise us with waffles for breakfast and thank Mom for all the delicious food she made. He was also hungry for a snack, so he broke Mom's one rule: Don’t mess with her kitchen.
The doctor said he could remove the cast in two months, about the time Theo and I graduate. He already got an internship in a restaurant, bringing home some fancy leftovers. 
Mom has not let off her sight from Dad since we got back. She gave him a firm warning and pinched his cheek. Now Dad gets ice cream and meals delivered to his mouth without lifting a finger.
I wish someone would do that for me. Imagine not having to leave the bed and constantly having sweets in your mouth. That would be a dream.
My thoughts disturb me sometimes. 
Since winning the competition, I have accepted that I will never be muscular again. The original plan was to savour everything I could for a year, then go on a diet. Mom and Theo have slowed down with the food so that I won’t eat until my stomach is about to burst, but they won’t refuse if I ask for something.
Now I am close to 500 pounds with my stomach always growling for more. I guess it’s just another fat ass behaviour I would have to accept.
Since losing weight is out of the question, I have figured out a way to keep my core muscle fit enough to support the enormous belly in front of me. It’s simple, I stick an 8-inch dildo from Seven’s house to my chair, and I would sit on it when I’m playing video games or watching a movie. When the itch gets too much, I can use my core muscles to lift myself up and down. This way, I get to work out and get off. It's not good for the chair, but who cares? It’s reinforced.
***
It was a regular lunchtime when Brad broke into my house again. Usually, he would greet my parents and head straight upstairs to perform witchcraft for all I care, but today, his footsteps are leading to my door.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Brad is the kind of asshole that does not knock. I still have the dildo in me!
I panicked and pulled up my pants before getting off the dildo.
He came in right as I flopped my belly down to cover the fact that my pants were not fully pulled up.
“Sup,” I said.
“Sup, Jay,” he reached out his fist for a bump.
“So, you know our last season of football in college just ended,” he said. 
Brad walked to my left to sit on my bed.
I rotate my seat to face him so he doesn’t see my ass hanging out in the back.
“Oh, fuck!” I yelped.
Fuck, the dildo twisted in the movement, now poking my prostate. 
“You okay, dude?” Brad asked.
“Of course, continue,” I said with the best smile I could muster.
“The guys are celebrating, so it’s like the last party for the team, and I was wondering if,”
“Okay, yeah, I’ll go,” I said quickly.
“Oh, that’s it? You usually don't like to go out or like- move at all,” he said, then stood up.
His sudden movement startled me, and the dildo jerked deeper.
“Are you sure you’re okay, dude?” Brad said, walking closer.
“I’m all good bruh, don’t worry,” I said.
I can feel my hole tensing, almost swallowing the dildo whole.
“I just don’t want you to be angry at me for fucking your cousin. If you want me to stop, I will,” he said.
“You what the who?” I said, baffled.
“I’m fucking,”
“Ew no, don’t tell me. I’m fine as long as you never mention doing that with my cousin ever again,” I said.
He let out a breath.
“Well, that’s something out of my chest. I’m going up now. I’ll come here and pick you up tomorrow night,” Brad said, rushing out the door.
I let out a breath too.
The locks will never be open after this traumatic experience.
My ass is still tingling, so I quickly fuck myself with the dildo to get over with it.
***
The drive to the house has been excruciatingly slow because Brad is a cautious driver. It leaves a lot of time to think without food distracting me.
I am now extremely aware of the bright yellow Pikachu face stretching across my belly. There aren't many clothes that fit me, and it’s been a while since I went out, so I didn’t bother buying new shirts. 
I haven’t seen them in a while. They’re gonna think I’m fucking lame.
“Dude, snap out of it. Everyone there misses you. I didn’t invite the assholes,” Brad said.
“…I guess.” 
“You’re doing the arm-scratching thing again, haven’t seen you doing that in a while,” Brad said.
“I’m going to put on some music, and you’re going to stop thinking, okay?” Brad added.
“Yeah, okay,” I replied.
When we opened the door, Marcus the quarterback greeted us, and half my worries melted away. 
He is about 300 pounds, which feels skinny to me now. At least I’m not the only fat one.
Now that I look into it, not everyone has defined abs. I don’t know why I expected everyone to be runway models. Even Brad is softer around the middle.
“Dude! Where have you been?” Aiden yelled.
“Oh shit, you look humongous, my guy,” Braxton said.
We quickly got back into the groove we had two summers ago.
Brad booted up a party game, and we tried our hardest to destroy each other.
We also caught up on what each of us was up to this past year, or what to do with our future. Aiden wants to marry his girlfriend, Marcus wants to join his boyfriend’s band, and Brad wants to be a freelance artist alongside his side job.
When the night came, They ordered some Chicken wings and pizzas.
“Fuck yeah, trash food! No more diet from Coach,” Aiden said, taking away half the pizza.
“By the way, I bought extra pizzas to see how much we can push ourselves,” Brad said.
I have a bad feeling about this.
“Of course, if it’s too much, we can always count on Jay,” Brad laughed.
There are six of us, with twenty large pizzas. I am screwed.
“It’s just some pizzas, no big deal. I can beat Jay easily,” Braxton, the most muscular guy in the group, said.
“Hahaha, don’t underestimate him, my dude,” Brad replied.
Except for Marcus, all of them are wimps. They started groaning and bitching after a few slices.
“Damn it, how do you make it look so easy,” Aiden asked.
“There’s a technique to it, dumb ass. I trained for this shit,” I answered.
Aiden then passed out from the food coma after six slices. 
Two more people soon followed after him.
Brad is on his way to his second pizza. His stomach has never looked this bloated before. Marcus is trying his hardest on his fourth one, but the guy is barely hanging on.
When the seventh pizza box emptied, I was stuffed beyond belief.
The guys woke up and refocused their energy on me to finish the rest.
“There’s only two left, people. Finish it,” I said, pointing at the boxes.
“We’re not on your level, Jay. You’re like, a pro at this,” Aiden said.
“Yeah, man. Only you can do it,” Brad said.
Braxton handed the pizza box over, and they started feeding me slice by slice.
“Come on Jay, you’re better than this,” Aiden said and rubbed my belly.
These people have no personal boundaries like always.
I am beyond capacity after the eighth one.
This was most likely a fucked up plan by Brad to show they don’t care I’m a fat ass. I still believed they wouldn’t like me because of my size until a few hours ago, now it seems ridiculous to reject all those party invites last year. Well, maybe I was up to something because now they’re trying to suffocate me with pizzas.
When Aiden stuffed the last of the slices in my mouth, everyone cheered.
Tonight was absurd, but I got my friends back. When some guys were not happy for a fat guy to be on the team, they stopped hanging out with me. I thought I was a lost cause.
“Dude, you better come back next time,” Aiden said.
“I’m gonna beat you next time, Jay. Watch it,” Braxton said.
“Awesome to have you back, man,” Marcus said.
It reminds me of that summer when we hung out by the river every time the fast food party room got too suffocating, when my worries were carried away by the water. 
“Thanks, Brad. For doing this,” I told him once we got in the car.
“No problem, I’m always here,” he answered.
I must have gotten too sentimental, or pizzas are clogging my brain, but I opened my Instagram and tabbed Recent in the search bar.
It seems like he made some new decorations for the coffee shop. 
I scrolled down to see the picture of the beach.
“Stop scrolling like a creep, Jay. Just call him,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“He’s still waiting for that coffee,” Brad said.
“You still talk to Ave?” I asked.
“This is fucking depressing to watch, Jay. You guys were best friends,” he said.
“You know, I was kinda jealous of you guys back in the day. I was the skinny guy who got bullied on the side, and you were the guy on the team who still takes the time of day to befriend me. I only had you, and you also had him. It’s frustrating seeing you throw that away,” he finishes.
He doesn’t understand though. I’m a hypocrite who ignored Ave when he got fat. I don’t deserve his attention.
***
It’s been two weeks since our graduations and Dad getting his cast off. Mom has been working full-time, trying to figure out what we could do as a family to celebrate. It’s proven to be difficult when there are two 500-pound whales in said family. We can’t fit into any amusement park ride, and we’ll sink into the bottom of the ocean if we go to the beach. So, the rational thing to do is a picnic. At least that’s what I suggested. But Mom insisted a camping trip was the best family bonding option. For two whales.
It’s fine, I thought to myself. We have done this plenty of times.
After stuffing Dad in the front seat and the emergency food boxes in the back of the SUV. Mom explained the bags of medicines she bought like a flight attendant with the safety instructions. She must have been traumatized by Dad’s injury. He’s not allowed to do anything remotely dangerous, like moving his hand to eat. Hence, the army medical packs.
Mom went through the bottles of fox spray, bear spray, mosquito spray, sun spray and pepper spray, and then we finally got moving.
On our way there, we had some intermissions at the gas stations to replenish snacks. Theo whined it, but this was all his fault anyway.  If only he hadn’t grown our monstrous appetite, and forced musical soundtracks to be played in the car for hours, I might have skipped over a few snack breaks.
Recently, my weight has stabilized at about 520 pounds. Thank God my exercises on the chair worked; otherwise, I’m going to blow up on my way to the camp. 
“Guys, Brad said safe trip, and he’ll miss us,” Theo said.
“He probably only meant you,” I replied.
Theo has been giggling for an hour straight, looking at his phone.
“I’ll miss you, Bradley. The signal’s breaking off. See you soon!” Theo said.
We set up the camp in a few hours. By the time we were done, the sun had already set, giving the mountain an orange hue. 
Today we’re going up to Sunshore Lake. It’s going to be a steep walk, but I’m ready to flex my athletic prowess.
It was not a good sign that I was already sweating before arriving at the entrance.
“David, this is a bit steeper than I remembered. Do you guys want to stay down here?” Mom said.
“Nah. Jay and I will do it. This is a piece of cake compared to what we used to do. Right, son?” Despite not having to walk for more than a year, Dad remains confident.
“Hell yeah, Dad. Let’s show them what we're made of!” I said.
I give up. We’re a third of the way through, and I can feel my belly weighing me down.
“Come on -huff, son, you -huff-can do it!” Dad said, looking worse than I do.
Theo looked at us and chuckled.
“Guys, I’m so sorry! I should’ve known this was too much,” Mom said, panicking.
“It’s- it’s all good, Chloe. Remember you married the- huff- Star athlete back in college?” Dad smiled at Mom and gave her a thumbs up.
“Need a hand?” Theo asked me.
“Isn’t that too much?” I motioned to our luggage on his back.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” he swung my arm behind his shoulder and carried me.
He’s been doing that more often than not when I couldn’t get up. Probably the reason he got all those muscles under his shirt. What happened to the noodle arm ginger?
“Thanks, man. I guess I don’t have to roll back down there,” I said.
When we were halfway through, Dad told us solemnly.
“I- I don’t think I can make it.”
“Noooo, David I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for things to end this way,” Mom said with tears in her eyes.
“I love you guys. You’re the light of my life. I am honour to be a husband, a father, and a-” 
“Dad, you’re not dying. We’re almost there,” I said.
“Is it too late to call an emergency helicopter?” Mom asked.
“David, I love you, but I really don’t want to touch you right now. Can you pull through yourself, baby?” Mom said, looking at the sweat ball that was Dad.
Theo burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but join too, even if I was in an equally dire situation.
When we got to the top, everyone was exhausted. 
We cleaned ourselves up with towels, and Mom went to check the Kayaking information. 
Dad and I were too big for it, as expected, so we went to find a good spot for fishing.
“I’m so excited. I have never kayaked before!” Theo said, looking as refreshed as ever.
Before we set up our fishing gear, they eagerly ditched us.
The Lake looked as calm as ever. It's boring with little going on.
Mom and Theo are probably in the middle of the lake now.
Staring at the stale water, I realized Dad was not perfect. He’s a little stubborn, clueless sometimes, but that’s what I like about him. I don’t know if anyone would find my quirks appealing. if Ave would.
I’m just a Lazy food addict who basically lives in his mom’s basement, so maybe not.
“Jay?” Dad said.
“What’s up, Dad?” I asked.
“You think too much, buddy.”
“You were always an overthinker since you were a toddler,” Dad said.
“I remember you told me you wanted to play football instead of hockey because hockey will give you frostbites, and freeze you into those Neanderthals from the museums,” Dad said.
“Oh Gosh,” he still remembers.
“You know what?” Dad said, then quickly took off his shirt.
“Let’s go for a swim,” He said with a smile.
“But the fishing,” I said.
“Don’t worry about the fish,” He said, walking back and charging towards the water.
The cannonball created a massive splash, making me completely wet.
“Mother of God, it’s freezing! Did you see that, Jay?” He said with a laugh.
“Yeah, that was pretty cool,” I chuckled. It’s not every day you see a chunky beast jumping into the water.
“Come on, Jay, take it off and jump!” he said.
I have not taken off my shirt in public since middle school, when I started to notice my flaws. Even in the locker room, I would find a bathroom stall to change.
“Don’t overthink it, Jay! Trust me!” Dad said.
Don’t overthink, I thought.
I took off my shirt and back off. When I pick up the pace, my entire body is wobbling.
With all the strength I have, I jumped.
Shit, this was a bad idea.
The cold water hit me.
First, nothing but white bubbles clouded me. Then, schools of fish surrounding me appeared in my vision, hurrying away from the meteor strike. I moved my legs slightly apart on the lakebed, so I don’t step on the tiny crabs while they take refuge in the kelp forest.
“Holy Fuck, it’s freezing!” I said as I pulled my head out of the water.
“Hahahaha, watch your mouth, Jay. You don’t want to summon your mother here,” Dad said.
The view down there was breathtaking; it was what I expected, but not. The fish looked different from a simple change of scenery. I wouldn't have known if I had never jumped.
“I’m proud of you, Jay. That was a huge splash. Aren’t the views here amazing?” he said.
“Thank you, Dad. I wouldn’t have done it without you,” I said.
“You did it all by yourself, kid,” he replied.
We kept exploring the lake until our stomachs growled in protest.
After setting up the fire, we roasted some fish in the bucket and made S’mores from caramel marshmallows. 
Theo and Mom joined and we talked about the stories we had at school or some embarrassing stories of me Dad has kept.
The next day, we packed up our stuff to leave. The mountain is beautiful and all, but Dad and I are starving for some real food.
On our way down, I realized that I had been the biggest enemy to myself. There are so many supportive people surrounding me when my self-doubt overshadows them.
The signal bars slowly appear one by one. I opened Avery’s profile picture.
If he rejects me, I’ll be embarrassed in front of a person I really care about.
I shouldn’t overthink.
There’s nothing more I can lose when I already lost his company.
So I texted.
“Hey, Ave. I know I’m late, but would you mind if I take you up on your offer for the coffee?”
“...” a text bubble appeared.
“I thought you'd never ask.”
803 notes · View notes
sturncrazy · 11 months ago
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CABINFEVER:
Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)
(anyone else green)
warnings: SMUT!! nsfw 18+ (loss of virginity, unprotected + no pull out…assume ur on birth control)
authors note: love a little sweet smut matt moment 🫶 also imagine the world wasn’t falling apart and there was still snow 🤪 HOPE U GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!!
summary: you and a group of your friends rent an airbnb cabin up in the mountains for a winter get away, but it’s short on beds. You settle for a bench and Matt takes the couch next to you, but things heat up when you get cold…
word count: 2,915 W
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“HOLY FUCK! it’s FREEZING out” yelled Nick slamming the door behind him. He was the last one inside the cabin and join the rest of you in stomping the snow off your shoes and hanging up various layers of winter-wear. You and a group of 7 of your friends decided to rent an airbnb up in the mountains in New Hampshire for a week to have a cozy vacation. You planned to sled, go on winter walks, make cookies and cozy drinks, play games, and just enjoy being together away from the rest of the world. The only problem was not all of you going had a budget like the triplets, Larray, and Madi. even though they offered to cover for the rest of you, it didn’t seem fair. so you settled on a slightly more quaint cabin instead of a big mansion. the catch was that there were only three bedrooms. You were always easy going and determined that everyone else be happy, so you had made peace with the fact that you’d probably end up on a couch long ago.
“so who’s gonna be living room buddies with me, huh?” you questioned.
“guess that would be me” said Matt, with a sheepish smile.
No surprise, really. Matt was an angel to everyone, so of course he’d be the first to say he’d take the undesirable sleeping spot. you grinned back at him, maybe a little too much. You’d been close to the triplets since you were kids, but Matt had always been your favorite. You related to his quieter side and always had a soft spot for him. A soft spot that went deeper than you wanted to admit in the last few years. Matt was always good looking, but lately something felt different…even though you’d never tell him that.
“i can live with that” you attempted to joke. The living room was beautiful, but large and drafty. there were a few armchairs, but only one oversized couch. next to it was a big window that had a little nook fitted with pillows.
“you take the couch, yn” Matt said, gesturing with his head.
“wha—no way. then where will you sleep?”
“I dunno i’ll figure it out don’t worry bout it. I’ll grab a beanbag or make a pile on the floor” he said blowing you off
“Nuh-uh. no way. you take the couch, i’ll sleep on that window thing”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah a hundred percent”
“Mmmm okay, but if you wanna switch at any point just tell me okay seriously” the genuine concern in his wide blue eyes made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. truth be told, you really didn’t mind this set up because you’d be sleeping just a few feet away from him.
“Deal” you smiled back at him.
The group of you had a perfect evening. it was like something out of a hallmark movie, but by 2am everyone was going to sleep. Matt showered upstairs, which gave you time to get ready for bed and throw on your lame excuse for sleepwear—an oversized tshirt that hung to just above your knees. you’d never wished you’d overpacked and brought shorts more. you tried to cover up your exposed skin with blankets as you heard creaking from the steps. Matt trotted down in flannel pants and a black tank, hair still damp and clinging to his face from the shower. seeing him like that made your throat grow dry.
“Y’tired?” Matt asked, arranging his pillows on the couch so that his head would be by yours, your bodies creating a right angle on their separate resting spots.
“eh, not really. you?”
“nah, not so much. bit of a night owl lately, i guess.” he said, sitting down and beginning to rummage through his bag. you laughed.
“name a time in your life you’ve ever been a morning person?” you teased
“hey shhh i could be if i tried.” he shook his bag vigorously
“shit. think i forgot my phone charger”
“oh i have one, you can use it” you said hopping up to grab your stuff. you strode across the room towards your suitcase without thinking, but suddenly felt heat on the back of your neck like you were being watched. you glanced back at Matt and just barely caught him staring at your bare legs before he quickly looked away. you’d completely forgotten about your choice of outfit and felt embarrassment flush your cheeks.
“here y’go” you said shoving the wires in his direction, avoiding his eyes.
“uh thanks” he said, with equal avoidance. you reached to turn off the last light in the room in hopes that would drown out the awkwardness. Before you knew it the two of you were laughing and chatting away in the strained moonlight leaking in from the window. This went on for about 20 minutes before the chill coming from outside started to get to you. your teeth chattered slightly. mid sentence, Matt halted.
“what’s wrong?”
“oh nothing, just a little breezy here, it’s fine”
“what? you can’t sleep there then! you’ll get sick!” his protective nature was borderline heart melting.
“Matt c’mon. I’m not that weak, i’ll be fine. I’m not making you sleep here”
“Then share the couch with me at least”
his offer caught you off guard and you paused for a second, processing before answering.
“you sure?” you asked, unsteadily. another small moment of silence. was he regretting what he’d offered?
“yeah, of course” You detected a small crack in his voice.
“I don’t wanna crowd you—“ he cut you off
“y/n it’s fine seriously, just c’mhere. it’s just me, don’t be weird.” he answered, sounding almost more like he was trying to convince himself than you. you crept over to the couch. Matt was on his side, already holding his blanket up with his arm to give you a spot to slide into. at first you laid down face to face with him.
“hey” he said quietly, inches from you. you smiled up at him. it made your heart race to see him from this angle, this close. you were sure he could hear your heartbeat if you stayed like this a second longer, so you rolled over so your back was to him. matt made a funny noise, almost like he was clearing his throat. your knees hung off the couch slightly, so you backed up to not fall off. Matt let out a strained cough.
“Matt are you okay? you sound like—“ you started to turn your head to face him, and inadvertently twisted your hips against his body. you felt his hand latch onto your waist, halting it. he winced and let out a small hiss
“y/n please” tumbled out of his lips, his whole body going stiff.
“Matt what’s wrong? I—“ suddenly you became away of a hardness pressing against your lower back and ass. your breathing hitched. Matt was hard. and you could feel it. Matt was hard and was pressing against you, hell it had been caused by you.
“oh my god” you whispered.
“fuck y/n i’m so sorry—holy shit. this is awful. i feel disgusting. i never wanna make you uncomfortable i—“ he began to babble sounding on the verge of tears
“Matt no—“ he rolled onto his back looking up at the ceiling. you turned onto your side to face him.
“No, y/n. this is so bad-oh god. i was worried this would happen, i mean being anywhere near you i’d worry about that, but i thought i could control myself and fuck i’m so sorry“
“wait what do you mean you worried?”
“come on, y/n. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. of course i’d worry, but you’re also one of my best friends so—“
“you think i’m beautiful?” matt paused and looked at you in the eye.
“are you joking, y/n?” you shook your head.
he took a deep breath before continuing.
“I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world” you exhaled rockily, scanning his eyes.
“and i can’t believe this is how i’m telling you that or i did anything to make you feel—“
“Matty, stop” you said, putting a hand lightly to his chest. it heaved at your touch.
“you didn’t do anything wrong, at all. i just never knew you saw me the way the way i see you”
“y’mean you—?” you bit your lip and smiled at him, nodding. he let out an exhale of relief and excitement and smiled back at you. he inched closer to your face, hesitantly.
“can i kiss you?” you nuzzled your nose slightly against his.
“yes, Matt” he leaned the rest of the way in and gently pressed his warm pillowy lips against yours. the feeling was better than you could’ve ever imagined. he pulled away, not wanting to seem too eager or pushy, and waited for you. you glanced from his eyes to his mouth before pushing back against him. this kiss was different from the last. there was fire and passion to it. your lips began to meld together, creating a rhythm as his hands reached for your waist. you wrapped an arm around his neck and ran your hand through his hair, which resulted in a huffing of air from his mouth into yours. his tongue slid against your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you immediately granted. you pressed your lower half against his. he grunted and squeezed your hip. smiling against your lips he rasped out
“careful there, problem from earlier is not exactly gone yet” your stomach flipped
“good” you breathed out, pressing your bodies flush again. he looked at you wide eyed, his pupils dilating, before diving in for the heaviest kiss yet. you lifted your leg up slightly, wrapping it around him. the move caused your shirt to slide up to the top of your hip. matt ran his hand up your thigh and gripped your ass causing you to let out a small whine. he bit at your lip slightly and used this new hold on your lower half to move himself between your legs further and on top of you. he pulled away from you to take off his shirt and you felt heat electrify your body at the sight of him uncovered in the weak blueish light. he smiled at you shyly before kissing you again. one strong hand began to trail over the sensitive skin of your stomach, up your shirt, sending ripples of buzzing through your body as the tips of his hand approached your braless chest. Matt ran his fingers delicately over your nipples, hardening at his slightly cold touch. you shuddered.
“can i take this off?” he said, tugging at the hem. you nodded vigorously and helped him pull it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. you fought the urge to cover yourself as his eyes engulfed the sight of you.
“god you’re so perfect” he almost moaned out. you giggled and tightened your legs around his lower half, encouraging him back down to you gently. the feeling of his warm bare chest against yours made you let out a sigh. he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, breathing hot warm air against your sensitive skin before gently sucking and pulling through his teeth. you whimpered into him, wrapping your hands back into his hair. he retaliated by starting to grind his hips against your heat, the feeling of his hard on painfully present. your two most desperate spots only separated by your underwear and his pj bottoms.
“Matt—“ you moaned out
“hmmmm?” he hummed into your neck. you needed him in ways you couldn’t explain. you squirmed beneath him. he pulled away to look at you and raise an eyebrow.
“what is it, beautiful?” he cooed, making you flustered. you pushed your hips back up at him, unable to come up with words.
“ohh i see” he chuckled out. you felt a flash of embarrassment and tried to cover your hands with your face. he grabbed your wrists lightly and lowered them.
“Want me to make you feel good, ma?” he said softly into your ear as he dragged his hand down your stomach and to the waistband of your underwear. you whimpered, desire crying out for contract between your legs. he lowered his fingers over the thin cloth that covered your pussy and dragged them up and down, giving you a teasing amount of friction.
“more, Matty, please” you cried out. he gingerly pushed the fabric aside and ran his fingers along your dripping folds
“god you’re so wet” he whispered out in awe, looking down at you , hungrily. he seemed almost in a trace, but the torment was too much for you. you grabbed his wrist and guided his hand, positioning his finger tips at your entrance. his breathing shallowed as he looked up at you while inserting his digits deep into your core. you became a mess as Matt continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them upwards expertly.
“fuck i could watch you like this forever” he panted
“mmmm feels—ss—so good, matt”
“god you don’t know what you’re doing to me, ma” your walls clenched at the thought of his hard length. you reached down between your bodies and palmed at his crotch. he let out a groan. his impressively large hard on throbbed under your touch, straining against his pants.
“oh my god, y/n” he mumbled, closing his eyes. you’d never seen anyone look so sexy before.
“Matt, I want you” you gasped, without thought. his eyes flickered open, his pupils were blown.
“Are—are you sure?” he said, struggling to breathe.
“I’m sure” Matt reached to untie his drawstring. you watched him, closely, as he loosed his pants and lowered them. your mouth watered at the sight of his large rock hard dick slapping against his stomach, the tip already dripping precum. he leaned back over you and began to line himself up with your entrance. nerves shot through your body.
“wait matt”
“what? whats wrong? should i stop?” he said, looking up at you with worry
“No, no definitely not, i—i just—i haven’t done this before?”
“Oh” he said smiling with relief
“Are you sure you want to? we can wait i’m fine to wait. i don’t wanna do anything you’re not ready for”
“NO!” you said a little too eagerly “I really want to” you finished shyly
“Okay” he chuckled. He realigned himself and gave you a gentle kiss
“This is probably gonna hurt a bit, okay? we can stop any time you want to” you nodded and he began to push his tip slowly into your entrance. you cried out at the feeling of him stretching your insides so much. he paused for a moment.
“do you want to stop?” he said sweetly
“No. keep going” you said wincing. he pushed himself to the base of his cock and moaned at feeling you completely around him. he slowly began to slide himself in and out of your pussy. the pain started to turn into pleasure.
“go faster, matty, please” he listened and began to pick up his pace, creating a delicious rhythm and hitting your sweet spot deep inside of you with each thrust. you let out a string of curses and cries at the sensation.
“fuck you feel so good around my dick, baby”
“oh god don’t stop”
“you like that, sweet girl”
“yes—fuck yes—i like it so much”
“you’re so fucking perfect, princess. god i love being inside of you”
“Matt—oh my god—fuck—I—“ you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach as your buildup started to reach its peak.
“you gonna cum, sweetheart?” Matt lowered one of his hands to press on your lower stomach, where he was deep inside of you. your vision began to blur.
“Let go, baby. Cum for for me” your hearing buzzed and you saw flashes of white as you came undone. Your walls clenched around Matt’s cock causing his thrusts to become sloppy.
“fuck, gorgeous i’m close—where do you want me to—“ he panted out
“just keep going, matty” you cooed still coming down from your high
“wh—you-you sure?” he questioned fighting off his release
“yes, don’t stop. keep going for me”
“oh my ffu—god-yes—anything for you” he stuttered
“fuck baby i’m gonna cum”
“yeah? cum inside me, matty, please”
“OH GOD FUCK Y/N”
“i wanna feel you cum”
“OH—IM CUMMING—OH FUCK—“ Matt cried out thrusting into you, wildly. He halted deep inside you as he released hot spurts of his cum into your core. he collapsed, panting heavily. after a moment, he pulled out and quickly leaned back down to give you a kiss before reaching to grab you your shirt. you smiled at each other, sheepishly, as you got redressed. he pulled you tightly against him and ran his hand down the back of your head, soothingly.
“How was that?”
“Perfect” you mumbled into his chest, breathing him in.
“Yeah?” he chuckled into your hair. you nodded.
“I’d say so too.” he said.
“I’ve always dreamed of getting to hold you like this” he whispered
“really?”
“mhm”
“me too” he paused for a moment
“what would you think of maybe being something where we could always be like this?”
you pulled away to look at him and he grinned at you. you pulled him in for the biggest kiss you muster.
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why am i gonna cry? WHY CANT THE MEN I MAKE UP IN MY HEAD BE REAL.
2K notes · View notes
tmpestuous · 1 month ago
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someone to stay
summary: bucky offers you solace as your mental fatigue rears its head.
pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader
warnings: angst, reader anxiety/depression, fluff, non-sexual nudity, a comforting buck <3
word count: 2.5k
a/n: this was inspired by my own issues right now because i definitely need it at the moment :’) 
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Getting out of bed was always the most difficult part of your day. Even when you were feeling okay, even when nothing was immediately wrong. You would wake up and stare into the void, blankets smothering your body and eyelids still heavy from the bit of sleep you’d managed to get.
There wasn’t anything pressing your anxiety, but having been out of your routine for a few weeks always left you feeling unmotivated. After having been sidelined from missions for a multitude of reasons—injuries, mental stability, and a dwindling success rate—you had nothing to do. None of your side hobbies entertained you long enough to keep you busy, so you fell into the same cycle. You sometimes wished you could sleep all day or even just stay stagnant in bed, but you knew it’d only make the fatigue worse.
Today, however, was not one of those days where you pushed yourself out of bed. Not bothered to check the time, you closed your eyes again. It was raining outside anyways, the perfect weather to stay cuddled in bed for. Soon enough, you found some sleep again, even if you’d regret it later.
Bucky, who was not sidelined from missions, had just come back from one, more than eager to see you. He was back earlier than expected, so he only figured you wouldn’t be in your usual spot waiting for him in the hangar of the compound. It was a bit past noon, so he assumed you were keeping busy elsewhere.
After a quick debrief, he made it to your shared room, only to be led to confusion at the curtains still drawn and all of the lights off. He knew how much you hated sleeping in too late, only ever sleeping past 9 if you were really exhausted and/or hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. Even then, you never let it get past 11 before you were up and out of bed.
Bucky knew you were taking your suspension a bit rougher than expected. He hated seeing you upset and he was even willing to skip out on a few missions to stay with you, but you’d insisted otherwise, saying “the bad guys don’t take breaks.” 
He never liked leaving you. Most of your missions had the two of you together, SHIELD thinking you worked well together even outside of your relationship. Going on missions without you meant he was always stuck with some reckless, inexperienced agent who wasn’t half as skilled as you a lot of the time. It was why he only liked the ones where he was with Sam or Steve, at least not having to stress about saving anyone.
He missed you on every single one. Your quips, how satisfying it was to see you kick people’s asses, and how swiftly you did just about everything. But Bucky also knew you needed a break. Your anxiety was more rampant lately, and it was affecting all of your skills on the field. The decision to bench you didn’t come easy to anyone, but especially not you.
You honestly had little to no idea what had you so anxious to start with, but anything else that triggered your anxiety only amplified it. Bucky was so reluctant to let Steve suspend you, but after you got seriously injured on a mission for lack of attention, he couldn’t argue against it anymore.
“You can’t be serious,” you said to Steve, tears in your eyes. “I’ve been injured so many times, why does that even matter?”
“It’s not just the injury,” Steve countered. “You’ve been off your game. I can’t risk losing one of our best members because you’re distracted.”
“I’m not dis—”
“You being distracted is how you ended up with a broken arm and a head injury,” he cut you off, making you look away from him. “You’re gonna end up dead if you keep on like this. I can’t deal with that loss, and neither can Bucky.”
Snapping your gaze back at Steve, you scoffed.
“So this is about Bucky?”
“This is about you, Y/n,” Steve said, his tone slightly more irritated. “He begged me not to bench you, said you just needed some time but even he knows putting you on the field again is risking your life.”
Wiping your tears away, you said nothing in response. You knew he was right, but the last thing you needed was to give in. It’d make you crumble, it’d make this whole situation real and you knew where you’d end up. 
Your conversation ended when Bucky walked in the room.
It was the right decision after all. However, Bucky’s chest ached knowing how low you were feeling. Knowing that you were doing everything just to get by, yet nothing at all. He hadn’t seen you in a melancholy state for years, but it always scared him. He barely made it out of his own episodes sometimes, panic manifesting through his bones. His worry only worsened at the thought of not being able to pull you from the darkness, the way you’d done so for him many times. 
Seeing you under the sheets, sound asleep past noon didn’t settle Bucky’s own anxiety. He was out on this mission for eight days, but you’d sounded okay when you spoke to him over the phone every night. 
Were you not getting any sleep? Were you falling asleep really late? Or was your current funk really getting to you?
Bucky set his duffel bag on the floor, shutting the door behind him. He decided against opening the curtains until you were awake, sitting on the edge of the bed next to your sleeping body, placing his flesh hand on your cheek gently.
“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning down and kissing your forehead a few times. “Let me see those pretty eyes, doll.”
Furrowing your eyebrows before peeling your eyes open, you were greeted with your favorite super soldier, a smile creeping on your face.
“Hi,” you said groggily, Bucky kissing your forehead again. “You’re back early.”
“Got the job done quickly,” he fed your curiosity. “What are you still doing asleep, doll? Are you okay?”
“What time is it?” You said, still unmotivated to get up from your lying position. 
“Almost 1,” Bucky answered before your eyes widened and you sat up, frantic about how the morning got away from you. “Hey, hey,” Bucky placed his hands on your shoulder, easing the tension a bit. “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with oversleeping once in a while.”
You shook your head, avoiding Bucky’s gaze as you rubbed your eyes. “I shouldn’t have slept that long.”
Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then your cheek, then pulled your hands away from your eyes. The bags under them didn’t go without notice, Bucky getting more worried than earlier. He knew you weren’t sleeping well, and him not being here to soothe you must have made it worse.
“Is everything okay?” He asked again, never getting an answer from you.
You sighed. “I don’t really know, I’m just- I’m always tired and don’t wanna do anything even though I know I shouldn’t just stay in bed. I was gonna wake up early today to see if I could get moving but then I barely slept and thought a few more hours could be useful but now—”
“Shh,” Bucky said, pulling you into his embrace, rubbing your back softly. “There is still a lot of time left in the day, but I don’t mind sleeping this Sunday away with you after the mission I just had.” He kissed the top of your head a few times. “We can shower then eat and then rest. Sounds good?”
You nodded, with a muffled ‘okay’ into his chest before pulling away, Bucky standing and grasping your hand in his to head to the bathroom. 
Bucky turned the shower on, letting it run to get warm before turning back to you. After you helped Bucky take his tac suit off, he helped you shed your pajamas. The both of you took your underwear off, Bucky checking the water before you stepped in. 
You always enjoyed showering with Bucky, most after a mission when you were both tired. Though this was different since you weren’t the one coming home, the sentiment of being tired remained the same.
Bucky could tell you were tense, that something was still bothering you. He never wanted to pry, so he massaged the tension out of your shoulders, getting you to relax your posture a bit. You both worked your way around lathering each other with soap, your eyes doing their usual routine of scanning Bucky’s body for any cuts and bruises. Bucky decided to wash your hair, finding any means of making you feel relaxed. You sighed under his touch, leaning your head forward to rest against his chest as he rinsed your hair.
“Steve mentioned you going back on the field again,” Bucky eased into the conversation. “You feeling up for it?” Much to Bucky’s surprise, you shook your head, prompting him to lift your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You know you can talk to me.”
Sighing again, you leaned into his touch. “I’m not ready.”
“I thought you wanted to get back,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.
“I do,” you nodded. “But I just feel so… out of it. Like my mind is out of fuel and it’s putting my body on pause. I have no energy lately, I don’t really know what’s wrong with me.”
Bucky looked at you, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. He’d been there, where his body was craving one thing but his mind just never allowed him to satisfy any of his desires. Depression didn’t always look the same, but he could tell when it was starting to consume you.
The restless nights, the fatigue, the lack of energy and motivation. It was a stark contrast to your usual, productive self. Sometimes Bucky would have to slow you down for doing too many things at once, so it pained him to see you not want to do anything at all. 
He decided right then and there he’d take a pause from any missions until you were okay. Until he could see the spark in your eye again, the pep in your step. The energy being revitalized.
“It happens, baby,” he reassured. “You’ve helped me through some of my funks, so let me help you out of yours, hm?”
“You don’t have to, Bucky,” you shook your head, but he shushed you, a chaste kiss placed on your lips. “I’m serious, you don’t have to pause your life for me. People still need help and I’ll get out of my fatigue stint eventually, so—”
“You know you’re not gonna convince me otherwise, right?” He shut you up again, offering you a smirk and another peck to the lips. “I would drop everything for you. At any time, on any day, at any given moment. You are my world, doll. If you’re not okay, then my world isn’t okay.”
“But what if they really need you—”
“They won’t,” Bucky grabbed the comb to detangle your hair. “Now come on, let me help you ease your mind, hm?”
Knowing you couldn’t say no to him, you turned so your back was facing him, Bucky smoothly getting any knots out of your hair. 
He knew how much you loved it when he did your hair, knowing the process was super long and you didn’t want to do it half of the time. When he first heard you complain about having to do it, he made you teach him your whole routine for whenever you were feeling unmotivated to. It was one of many things he eagerly learned for you, always wanting to pamper you. 
Feeling a bit overwhelmed over the fact that you had him back, here with you as he did everything in his power to clear your head from the anxious thoughts, you couldn’t help but tear up. 
When he finished detangling your hair, holding it up with a clip, he saw you crying, quickly pulling you in his arms, kissing you everywhere he could. 
“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Once he let you return the favor of washing his hair, you made him sit on the built-in bench in the shower so you wouldn’t have to reach up the whole time. 
Bucky loved touching you, but he swore to everything that he loved your touch even more. Your hands were so soft and gentle, with each lather and rinse of his head.
“Your hair’s getting long again,” you said, running your fingers through Bucky’s brown locks, the length now passing his ear. “Are you gonna cut it?”
Bucky shrugged, his hands finding comfort in your waist as you stood in front of him. He placed a kiss on each of your hips then your stomach before looking up at you.
“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered before standing, kissing your lips again. He knew how much you liked his short hair when he first cut it, but deep down you loved his long hair too. You just never forced him to keep one or the other, knowing how many memories his hair held.
Bucky loved how well you knew him, how well you understood him. It was the main reason why he took his time to do the same for you.
Once you were both out of the shower and dressed, Bucky picked up his phone to order some food. You’d told him you were craving Chinese the night before on your phone call while he was away, so he ordered all of your favorites as you finished drying your hair in the bathroom.
After eating dinner, Bucky slid under the covers of your shared bed, extending his metal arm for you to grab as you slid in next to him. Your head found its usual spot on his chest, both of his arms encasing you in the pressure you sought so many times, your left leg over his right one. 
“Thank you,” you said softly as Bucky rubbed your back just the way you liked it. “For never judging me.”
“I would never plan to,” he said, using his right hand to lift your chin up. “We’re human. We have our moments where we need a break, a reset. You taught me that when I needed to hear it. Don’t think that it excludes you, my love.”
Leaning up, you pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss that said more than enough. 
Pulling away, you looked into those blue eyes that meant the world to you.
“What would I do without you?”
“Force yourself to do your hair routine every week,” Bucky joked, making you roll your eyes playfully with a smirk.
You pressed a kiss on his chest before laying your head on it again. “I love you.”
“I love you more, doll,” he said, massaging your scalp to soothe you until you fell asleep.
Bucky could watch you be this peaceful forever, vowing to spend the rest of his days making sure you were okay. He always knew you’d return the favor, enjoying every moment spent with you like this, comforted best in his arms.
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moonlightpetalz6 · 1 year ago
Text
Kinktober Day 1 (Praise Kink)
Tumblr media
Character: Sebastian (Stardew Valley)
Reader: Fem Reader!
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Praise kink, smut, pet names, unprotected sex, harsh language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cigarettes,
Wc: 4,795
A/n: AAAAAH Finally I can start posting these! anyways I really hope you enjoy this story! I tried my best to label all the warnings, so I apologize if I missed any! Anyways! I fucking love Sebastian in Stardew he was the first one I ever married in game!
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"If you keep glaring like that, you'll get wrinkles." You scoffed, bringing your drink to your lips as you glanced at your friend Leah, who happily munched on a salad, giving you a playful grin as she pointed her fork in the direction your eyes had been staring daggers at just seconds ago. At the other end of the Stardrop Saloon stood your recent ex-boyfriend Sam and his usual gang, except this time there was someone new with them. Your eyes took in the sight of your ex's arm tightly wrapped around Penny's shoulders as he went and kissed the top of her head, causing your heart to ache as you slightly cringe at the sight. "He's such a dick, right?" Leah questioned, tilting her head towards Gus, who silently cleaned one of his glasses. Gus opened his eyes, glancing from the two girls over to the group of young adults whose laughs echoed throughout his salon.
 
"Would you like another drink, Y/n? on the house?" He questioned, getting ready to give the farmer another cup. You took one last look at the new couple before letting out a deep sigh while pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling a slight headache approaching. "No, I think I should start heading back home. I have to wake up early to help Pierre with some new sales ideas he has." The two let out small sympathetic 'ahs' at your words while giving nods of understanding. You carefully rummage through your jeans, pulling out what you owe and slapping it on the counter as you wave goodbye to everyone who acknowledged your exit. You carefully swing the door open, closing your eyes as the night breeze hits your slightly flushed cheeks, letting out a contempt sigh as you lean against the Saloon, staring up into the night sky. 
'Come on Y/n it's been like two months now, get over it.' You thought, annoyed with your feelings. 'Maybe I should try dating again? I am pretty busy, though, with Winter coming in just a few months.' Letting out another deep sigh, you kick yourself off the wall, shoving your hands in your jeans pockets as you turn to return to the farm. Before you could even take the first step back, the doors to the Saloon opened as a familiar figure stepped out in front of you, causing you to stop all movement. "Oh, you're still here, Y/n?" Sebastian questioned, a cigarette between his lips as he looked down at you, slightly surprised to see your form next to him. You took a small step back as your body shifted, showing discomfort at the man's sudden appearance. Sebastian didn't say anything as he eyed you silently while lighting his cigarette. 
"Uh…hey, yeah, I was just about to head back." You mumbled, unable to make eye contact with your ex's best friend. Sebastian hummed his eyes, boring holes into your unaware figure as he let out a puff of smoke while carefully leaning against the Saloon. "Is that right? You want to keep me company for a bit?" His words catch you by surprise as you look up at his mouth, slightly open in awe. Sebastian gives you a barely noticeable smirk, amused with your reaction, as he raises a brow, tilting his head down to get a better look at you. "What? Just cause you and Sam are no longer together doesn't mean I have to stop talking to you, does it?" He scoffed, eyes narrowing as he clicked his tongue. You grew nervous with that as you quickly waved your hands out while stuttering over your words as you tried to devise excuses. 
"T-that's not! I- well, it's just you guys are so close and…um…I… I'm sorry." You admit defeat as you bend over from guilt. Sebastian just let out a small chuckle while ruffling your head as he let out another cloud of smoke. "Good to see you haven't changed since we last talked." He mumbled while motioning for you to join him against the wall. After a moment of hesitation, you decide to entertain your old friend, having not talked to anyone besides Leah since the breakup. "You're right…I haven't changed at all." You admitted while looking down at the ground, tapping your feet together. Sebastian's eyes narrow as he takes in your pitiful form, his chest tightening with disgust as he recalls how you used to smile whenever he saw you with Sam. An awkward silence falls between you, neither knowing what to say to the other after having not spoken in two months. 
"Did you see Sam and Penny?" Finally, Sebastian addresses the two people filling your vision the entire night. He doesn't take your eyes off your form, watching you stiffen at the mention of his best friend and new girlfriend. He hesitates momentarily, debating whether he should hit you with the harsh reality of their situation or leave you to your deluded thoughts. "... They're dating now." He finally starts watching as your body trembles, causing his jaw to clench as he feels a bit of rage cloud his vision, not liking the effect his best friend still had on you. Sebastian bites his lip before going to continue with his words. "They've been dating since-!" His words cut off, eyes widening in shock as he feels your petite, but rough hands press against his mouth as you stand on your tiptoes, your body trembling. 
"Please… don't continue, I u-understand." Your voice sounded so pathetic and broken to the programmer as he listened to the minor hiccups that left your lips. "Hey, are you crying?" He mumbles carefully, going and caressing your cheek, feeling like his heart was stabbed with a pickaxe when he handles your damp skin under his fingers. Sebastian had only ever seen you cry once during the after-party of one of their band's gigs. Everyone was out cold from partying too hard, but Sebastian had woken up to use the bathroom, his head swirling from the alcohol as he staggered towards the bathroom. When he reaches out to grab the doorknob, he is shocked to see it swing open, his sleepy and intoxicated eyes locking with your surprised, tear-filled ones. "...Sam broke up with me." After staring at each other for an eternity, you whispered to Sebastian. 
Scowling at the memory, Sebastian cups both sides of your face, carefully rubbing his thumbs in circles across the bags under your eyes, most likely due to the lack of sleep you have suffered since the breakup. "Hey…hey shhh. Don't cry, Y/n, oh come on, princess, look at me." He cooed, his face inches from yours as he made eye contact with you. "Oh Y/n, you poor thing…geez, why didn't you come to me if you were suffering so much?" You couldn't say anything to the man before you as you cried, feeling your throat ache with each pathetic sob. You look up at Sebastian, his eyes no longer holding that annoyed and lazy look this time; they're much softer and filled with love and compassion as he gives you a small smile. "I-I'm sorry, Sebastian, I don't mean to," He cuts you off, pulling you into a tight embrace as he carefully rubs circles along your back. 
"Shhh, don't apologize, Y/n." He whispered, nuzzling his chin against the top of your head as he took in your scent, his heart racing as he gave your body a small squeeze of reassurance. "Just cry it out for me, okay?" He asked, a small smile ghosting his lips as he felt your body starting to relax. "There we go, that's a good girl." As the words left his lips, you heard the door to the Saloon open, causing whoever just left to hear everything. You go to pull away from Sebastian's comforting embrace, not wanting to have people get the wrong idea. However, his grip suddenly tightens as he rests a hand on your head, pressing your face further into his chest. "Y/n? Sebastian?" Your eyes widened at the familiar voice, your body stiffening as your heartbeat against your ribs. Sebastian rubs circles on your lower back once again as he lets out a lazy hum while looking over at his best friend and Penny standing just inches away from the two of you. 
"Oh hey…you two going home for the night?" He asked with a bored tone, utterly different from the gentle, caring one he had with you moments ago. Your mind starts to wander off as you think back to his words from earlier, finally processing. 'Princess? Good girl?' You thought your cheeks were quickly heating up as steam practically danced from your head, heart pounding as embarrassment overcame you. 'W-what the hell was with that?! A-and this current situation…oh no, Sam's going to get the wrong idea-!' Your rapid thoughts are put to a dead halt as you feel Sebastian's hand suddenly slide down to your ass, his palm gently rubbing circles along the squishy flesh before giving it a slight squeeze causing you to jump as you hid deeper into his chest. "Y/n? Are you okay?" You heard Sam question with that sickening sweet tone he would use when you used to date, indicating he was worried for you. 
"She's fine, just had a bit too much to drink tonight, right, Y/n?" You felt Sebastian dip his head close to your ear, his warm breath hitting your already flushed skin as he quietly whispered his following words. "Right, sweet girl? Be a good girl for me, and nod your head so he can beat it." He growled the last part as his grip on your ass tightened, causing a small whimper to leave your lips while the man chuckled. You do as told while slightly peaking past Sebastian's arms, your eyes still teary from your minor breakdown moments ago. "Y-yeah, Sebastian's right." This earned you a small reward as you felt his thumb carefully rub circles along your hip. You said nothing after that, internally praying for the two to leave so you could hurry up and return to the farm. Your thoughts soon drifted as you inhaled the smell of Sebastian's hoodie; he smelled of cigarettes and motor oil, hinting that he must have been working on his bike at some point today. You felt your mind get fuzzy as you nuzzled closer to him, causing the man to stiffen as his arms squeezed around you, resting his chin on your head again. 
Sam stood there momentarily before nodding, a nervous smile crossed his face. "Ah, I see! I was just about to walk Penny home. Do you want me to take Y/n back to the farm for you?" Sam asked, his eyes only leaving your form to glance at his best friend for a second. "Nah, I'm going to take her back home. You worry about getting your girl home." Sebastian laughed, though you felt his annoyance as he tapped a finger against your skin. Sam hesitated momentarily before complying when he felt Penny tug on his sleeve. With a slight frown, Sam nods his head while giving you both one last look. "Right…get home safe then." The two walked off, leaving you and Sebastian alone outside the Saloon. You listened as he let out a deep sigh, his entire body seeming to relax as he carefully rubbed his hand up and down your back while letting out a small laugh. "Finally, I thought he'd never leave." he joked, arms still holding you close. You felt yourself growing hot as you carefully tried to pull away. 
"U-um, Sebastian, I should get home now." You whispered, avoiding looking up at him. Sebastian hummed, tilting his head to look down at you, his eyes narrowing as a lazy smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, that's right, I have to get my good girl home~" He cooed, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him in shock, your mouth open to shout who knows what at him. Still, he was ready for this as he went and pressed his lips to yours, one hand carefully capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger as he tilted your head up to deepen the kiss. At first, your body is stiff from shock, your mind trying to process how all this was happening as your wide eyes stared straight into Sebastian's narrowed eyes. He smirked against the kiss as he pressed your body closer, his free hand trailing up and down your side, causing your body to relax as you slowly gave in to the feeling. 
The two of you slowly pull away from the kiss, a small string of saliva still attaching your lips as he presses his forehead against yours, his hand carefully caressing your cheek. "Are you lonely, baby?" He whispers, brushing his lips against yours, his eyes filled with desire as he slides his thumb down your lower lip, watching the plump skin tug with his digit, causing him to lick his lips. "Do you want me to take care of you, sweet girl? I can fix that lonely feeling, Y/n." His words cause you to shiver as a small whimper leaves your lips, tears filling your eyes as you feel your chest swell with joy at his praise, your ears wanting to hear more of it. "Come on baby…tell me what you want like a good girl." He kisses along your jaw as his hands ravish over your squirming body, eagerly awaiting your response. You bite your lip as you try to think of the consequences if you take the man in front of you home. You look up at him with a slight pout on your lips as he gives you a lazy smirk; however, his eyes hold nothing, but admiration mixed with lust as he stops, his hands gripping your hips with one last squeeze. "What's wrong, princess?" He whispered, feeling your hands grip at his hoodie. 
"Sebastian I…I want you to take me home." 
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As soon as the door to your house shut, Sebastian was all over you. His hands roamed around your body as he slid them up your shirt, kneading at your encaged breasts as he breathed a deep sigh into your ear. "S-sebastian, wait! We just walked in!" You cried, trying to push him away but failing as he went and pressed your front against the wooden floor, grinding against your ass as he leaned over you, licking the shell of your ear. "I'm sorry, princess, but I can't wait anymore. You're just too fucking cute." He growled, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he unclipped your bra, watching your breasts bounce with each grind of his hips. "So, fucking perfect princess." He whispers, going to pinch at your hardened nipples, earning a slight squeal out of you as your hips move back against his, causing him to bite his lip at the sudden friction. 
"Fuck do you like that Y/n? Does my sweet baby girl have sensitive nipples? Do you like me playing with them between my fingers like this?" He laughs as he gives a rough pinch to them, causing your back to arch as a low moan escapes your lips. "Y/n, do you want to know a secret?" He whispers while flipping you onto your back, making sure to grab each of your legs as he wraps them around his waist, pressing the bulge in his pants against your clothed pussy, a slight blush on his cheeks as he looks down at you with a lustful gaze. "I've always wanted you. From the moment you moved here, I wanted to make you such a good girl who I could spoil." He admitted while sinking to leave kisses from your neck towards your chest as he carefully started sucking on one breast, an intense shiver running through his body as he listened to your moans, feeling you squirm underneath him. 
"Sam didn't deserve to have you princess." He moans his teeth, lightly biting the sensitive bud, causing you to let out a small cry, bucking your hips up to meet his own, causing him to chuckle as he pulls away from your breast with a small pop before sitting up straight. "Such a good girl~" He purrs while slowly pulling down your jeans, his lips trailing kisses down your thigh to your ankle as he lets out a small gasp, his eyes locking with the wet spot soaking through your panties, just begging for him to lick it all up. "Such a good girl, Y/n…" He whispers while sinking his head between your thighs, pressing a small kiss against the slick-coated fabric, causing your pussy to twitch as you watch him with hooded eyes, small pants of anticipation leaving your lips. "How long has it been, princess?" He whispers before dragging his tongue up and down the fabric slowly and tormentingly. "When was the last time someone made this pretty pussy of yours feel so good?" he growled while tearing the material out of the way, his tongue invading every inch of your dripping hole. 
Your eyes shoot open as you slap a hand over your mouth, a deep groan leaving your lips at the sudden pleasure jolting throughout your body as your muscles tense up. "F-fuuuuuuck." You cry, a hand reaching out to grab at his dark locks. He grabs your wrist, stopping your movement with a slight chuckle as he pulls away from your pussy. Your juices make his mouth messy as he slowly licks his lips, shaking his head. "Uh uh~ answer my question, princess…when was the last time a guy was inside you?" He leans over your body, lips inches from yours, slowly slips a finger past your folds, rubbing teasing circles around your clenching hole. You whine from the act while wiggling your hips, wanting to feel the digit deep inside you. "Come on, baby~ Just answer my question, and I'll reward you like the good girl you are." He teased, eyes clouded with lust as he tugged at his pants with his free hand, letting out a small groan from being so pent up. 
You look at him with a slight pout as he bites his lip, almost reaching his breaking point from how adorable you looked underneath him. "S-since Sam and I dated…I haven't fucked anyone else, so please…mmh…please make me feel good, Sebby~" You made sure to drag out the little nickname hoping it would give you some reaction, and boy, were you right. Sebastian clenched his teeth together, eyes narrowing as they clouded with pure desire as he licked his lips. "Since Sam, huh?" He asks a hum towards the end. Your eyes widen as your mouth forms an o when you feel his rough and lengthy finger sink deep inside you, causing your back to arch as you grip his biceps, watching his eyes travel down to his hand. "Then my poor baby hasn't been satisfied in so long…" he whispers before sliding another finger inside your needy hole, watching as his fingers go in and out each time, coated in a new layer of your beautiful juices.   
"You're doing such a good job baby, oh such a good fucking job." he moans, watching as your body squirmed underneath him while feeling you needily clenching around his fingers, causing his cock to twitch in his pants as he growls, biting into the crook of your neck. "Princess, look at me, sweetheart." He breathes while carefully adjusting your gaze onto him. "Did you know he used to brag about you all the time?" He confessed, eyes locking with your clouded ones as he slowly freed himself from his pants, a slight hiss leaving his lips as his cock sprang against his chest. "He used to tell me all the time how sexy you were…" You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear the man fingering you talk about how your ex used to praise you to others, finding yourself disgusting for getting aroused.
 
"He was right but failed to mention how cute you are. Such a cute and obedient pussy~" He sang, a cocky smile on his face as he watched your body shiver underneath him, watching your eyes tear up as your pussy clenched around his fingers, indicating that you had found your release. Sebastian whispers sweetly into your ear as he slows down his fingers, still pumping them through your orgasm. "That's it, princess…such a good girl for me~" he praised while placing kisses all over your cheek as you frowned, trying to get the words to leave your mouth between heavy breaths. "I-i'm not… I'm disgusting." You whimpered, allowing your inner thoughts to come out. Sebastian frowned at this as he went and pulled your legs over his shoulders, causing you to squeak as he removed your limp body closer to him. "W-what are you doing?" You cried, still trying to come down from your orgasm as you pushed at his abdomen. 
Sebastian says nothing as he slowly slides his tip along your wet folds, watching the juices mix with his precum. "He's tried to ruin you…" he mumbles while positioning himself against your throbbing hole, his eyes slowly locking with yours as he grits his teeth. "Be a good girl for me, okay princess? You'll be my pretty little slut and take it all, right?" He smiles at his words while capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss before sliding his cock into your tight hole, causing you to whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, a few tears escaping from your eyes. Sebastian groans, his rough hands sliding up and down your hips reassuringly before pulling away his brows knit together as he kisses the corner of your lips. "So good, Y/n…such a good girl for me, princess." He mumbled, slowly moving his hips as he watched each pleasurable expression cross your face at the feeling of him inside you. 
"S-sebbyyyy," You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck while needily placing sloppy kisses along his neck, causing him to laugh in adoration, loving how cute you were being for him. "What is it, princess? What does my sweet girl want me to do?" He happily lends you his ear, so happy to hear you moaning out his name like you did so many times in his fantasies when he sat at home jerking himself off in the basement. You look up at him, lips swollen from him kissing you so aggressively, cheeks flushed as a bit of drool slipped from the corner of your mouth. "Please move! I wanna feel good!" You whined desperately, causing a soft and caring smile to appear on his face. "As you wish, princess." He whispered before pulling away from you, legs still tossed over his shoulders as his grip on your hips tightened. 
You gasped and moaned as his thrusts became more aggressive, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your squishy walls filling your mind as you tossed your head back, your loud and pitiful moans echoing throughout the quiet and dark house. Sebastian looks down at you, a slight blush on his cheeks, his breathing heavy as he watches your fucked out expression, his cock twitching inside you as he brings one of his hands to your chest, giving a squeeze as he desperately tries to thrust as deep as he could inside you. "Smile for me, baby~ ah, come on smile! Fuck show me that pretty smile, baby~" He whined, watching as you brought your head to face him, your expression causing him to swallow back a loud moan as he felt himself about to cum at just the sight. You looked up at him; the moonlight barely lit the area, showing your eyes shining from the tears of pleasure that had dampened your soft skin. Your cheeks were so flushed as drool slid down your chin when your lips tugged up into a fucked-out smile as you reached your arms up to cup his face. 
Sebastian looked down at you with wide eyes, his mouth open in awe as he felt his chest swell with nothing but love for the farm girl. "Sebby~ Am I a good girl? I did as told please tell me I'm a good girl!" You whined, feeling his cock hit that one spot you needed as you reached your second orgasm causing your tongue to stick out at him, his eyes turning feral. "Fuck princess…yeah, you're such a good fucking girl, alright baby." He suddenly pulls out, causing you to let out a needy whine, having not had enough of his cock inside you just yet. "Whose dick do you like more princess? Mine or Sam's?" He suddenly questions before slamming his entire length back inside your sensitive pussy, ignoring that you had just released for the second time that night. 
"It's mine right princess?" He growls, watching your tits bounce up and down at his faster pace. You can't say anything too fucked out by the intense pleasure you were receiving. Sebastian grunts and groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he feels his cock wanting to paint your walls so pretty with his cum. "Come on baby say my dick is better. Come on, say it! Say it, oh god, say it with those pretty lips of yours, Y/n~" He whines, sticking his tongue out as he captures your lips in another sloppy kiss, listening to your lewd juices echoing throughout the house, his mind going crazy. He pulls away from the kiss, watching the strings of saliva fall back onto you, his heartbeat pumping through his ears as he pried your mouth open with two fingers. 
 "Say it for me, princess, and I'll give you such a good reward~ Just say it, baby. Come on, be my good, naughty girl~" He whined, desperate for you to say the words that would show him you no longer belonged to his best friend and that you were now finally his perfect girl who would do anything to be praised by him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you start feeling the knot in your stomach for the third time that night. The words barely leave your lips above a whisper, but he can still hear it. "Y-Your dick, Sebbyyyy! Mm, I like your dick more, Sebastian!" A deep growl leaves his throat as he presses his hips right against yours feeling himself ejaculating into your messy pussy, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels your walls clenching around him. You lay there too fucked out of your mind as you felt his cum filling your insides, a happy smile crossing your face as you watched Sebastian unconsciously try to push any cum that leaked out back inside when he pulled out. 
"That's my good girl~ so perfect for me~" He muttered while picking you up bridal style, leaving kisses along your face as he took you to your bed, carefully laying you down as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face. You hummed, tired eyes looking up at him as you leaned into his touch. "I'll grab you some water," he mumbled, giving you another kiss before heading towards the kitchen. As he patiently waited for the glass to fill, he noticed his phone going off, causing him to flip it open and look at the name of the person trying to call him. 
Sam
"Yeah?" Sebastian muttered, holding the phone up to his ear as he stopped the running water, making sure to have a tight grip on the cup, not wanting to break it. "Hey, I was calling to see if you made it home yet! I know you said you were taking Y/n home earlier. Did she get back safe?" Sam's voice laughed from the other end, instantly asking questions. Sebastian enters the room, stopping when he sees your sleeping face pressed against the pillow. He smiles quietly, walking over to you and placing the cup on your nightstand. "Yeah, we returned to her place a while ago." He admitted waiting to see if his best friend caught the fact he said 'we' instead of just you. Sam hesitates for a second, causing a slight smirk on Sebastian's lips as he awaits the blond's following words. 
"Are you still at her place then?' 
Sebastian just hummed as he sat on the edge of your bed, carefully playing with a strand of your hair as he looked down at you, eyes filled with love. 
"Of course, I'd still be at her house. After all, she's my girl now~."
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