#but she never even answered my text one time when I asked her to fill in for me

[euthymiya]

Guys how do you politely decline pitching in to get a coworker a pregnancy gift

[redwing4life]

Home Cooked Meal

CHAPTER 4 | ASHES TO EMBERS

can be read as a stand alone :)

PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!

SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.

WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

Call me when you get home x

Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.

It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.

Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.

He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.

You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.

“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.

“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”

The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.

Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.

“What are you doing right now?”

Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“

“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”

“What, now? What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”

And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.

Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.

Even Alps is confused.

Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.

Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.

He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.

She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.

With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.

Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.

Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.

He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.

Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.

It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.

Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.

“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.

“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.

“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”

Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.

Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.

When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.

“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.

Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.

“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.

“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”

You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“

Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.

“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”

Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.

“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.

“Well-“

The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.

“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“

“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.

Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.

“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.

“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”

If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.

Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”

You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”

With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.

Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.

“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.

He notices.

“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”

Fuck. Me.

You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.

“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.

You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.

Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.

“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.

You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”

Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.

With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.

Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.

“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.

“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”

“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”

You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.

Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.

It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.

Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.

Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.

Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.

“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.

“What are you trying to say there, doll?”

Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.

“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”

The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…

Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”

The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.

“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”

Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.

He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.

Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.

“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”

You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.

“You what?”

Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”

The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.

“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”

“Huh.”

Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.

“James, what are you doing?” You ask.

“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.

Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.

From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.

It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.

“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?

The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.

“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.

“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”

A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.

“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.

In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”

You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”

With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.

Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.

“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.

You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”

He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”

Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.

Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.

“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.

That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.

Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.

“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.

A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.

“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.

Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”

“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.

“Teach me.”

Huh?

“What?” You freeze.

“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”

You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.

Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.

“Okay.”

It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.

With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.

Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.

From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.

It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.

The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.

“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.

When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.

You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”

A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”

You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.

Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.

Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.

He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.

It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.

“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.

It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.

“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.

“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.

Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.

“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.

“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.

Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.

A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.

Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.

Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.

“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.

Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”

Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.

You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.

Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”

Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”

“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“

With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.

“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.

“Why?” You ask, heart racing.

It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.

Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”

A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.

Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.

“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.

Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”

That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.

Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.

You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.

Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”

“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.

“Then let me make up for lost time.”

“Wait, what do y-“

Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.

Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.

It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.

“No.”

Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.

“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.

You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.

“I promise.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”

A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.

A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.

“Bucky, please…”

“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”

You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.

“Look at me, Y/n.”

The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.

“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”

The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.

Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.

He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.

“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.

“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”

You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.

Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.

“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”

“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”

“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”

Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.

The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.

“James- oh fuck-“

Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”

You mewl and squirm beneath him.

“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”

Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.

You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.

“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.

“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.

Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”

An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.

He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.

The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.

“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.

You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.

With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.

“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“

“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”

You nod feverishly.

“Good girl, now let go for me.”

That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.

“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.

“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.

Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.

“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”

You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”

“Every night, doll.”

“Huh…”

Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.

“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.

“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.

You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.

After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”

What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.

He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.

His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.

“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.

“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”

You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.

“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”

Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.

“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”

“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.

“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”

You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.

“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.

“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.

He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”

You whine.

“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”

His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.

The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.

“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”

You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.

“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”

You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.

“I wanna see you, Bucky…”

He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.

You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.

“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.

Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.

He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.

“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”

Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.

You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.

Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.

“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”

You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.

“More than anything.”

And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.

You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.

“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.

“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”

You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.

“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.

He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.

“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”

His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.

You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.

Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.

Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.

“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.

“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.

You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.

With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.

As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.

“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“

You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.

“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.

“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”

You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.

“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…” You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.

“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”

You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.

“How about now?”

There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.

“No!” You giggle.

“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.

“James! You’re squishing me!”

The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.

Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.

“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.

Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.

“I need you inside me.”

His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.

The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”

After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.

Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.

You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”

You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”

“So what?”

Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.

A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.

“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”

His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”

He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”

His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.

“Shit, honey, say it again.”

“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.

“Again.” Your neighbour growls.

“Oh my god, fuck- I”

“Again.”

It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

“That’s my girl.”

Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.

“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”

You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.

“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”

“Harder, Jamie.”

Goddamn.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”

You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.

“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”

“Ah- just like that, baby.”

“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”

Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.

“Jamie…” You sigh.

He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.

The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.

“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”

He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.

“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”

“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.

“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”

Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.

“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“

He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.

“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”

You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.

“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”

“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.

“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”

Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.

“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”

As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.

With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.

“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.

You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.

“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”

“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”

You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.

“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.

Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”

You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.

“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.

“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”

He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.

“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.

He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.

When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”

You smile, “Your shirt?”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“

He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

“Of course, doll.”

Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”

a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️

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[pricesprincess]

part two to this | angst | part three coming soon...

later that evening dinner was served and simone was bathed with her pjs on as she settled into the couch under a mountain of blankets holding her tablet while face timing simon who answered on the first ring with a smile that was reserved just for his little girl.

"hello, princess. i miss you already, are you all for bed?"

it hurt hearing simon talk so quietly like that and seeing him so torn up made your heart sink to your stomach and all the way down to your toes like a weight on fishing line. "i am! do you think you can you come over for dinner? mom made your favorite!" simone asked.

from where you stood in the kitchen you heard the silence fill the video call as you glanced down and sure enough you were making what you were so used too, even after months of the separation you were still doing things for him to make his life easier.

simon mulled the question over his head, and while he does respect you, his daughter wanted to see him and that came before anything.

"tell your mum i'll be there soon, i love you."

simone hung up her tablet and put it in her cubby before running to the kitchen, her lips tugged into a bright smile as she clapped her little hands together. "daddy is coming for dinner!" she announced.

when you and simon had separated she had asked if you still loved her daddy and without a second of hesitation you told her you always would no matter what but she was too young for the rest of it.

she came closer to stand by you, her arms wrapping around your legs as you bent down to kiss the top of her head earning a glare so similar to simon's. "my hair mommy! i want to look pretty for daddy!"

you couldn't help but chuckle a little and crouch down to her height as you took hold of her hands. "baby girl, you are the prettiest already to him, why don't you put on a dress then?" you suggested softly.

simone skipped off to her bedroom down the hallway as you finished up dinner feeling a soft flutter in your belly, like butterflies while you waited for your date to show up, but in this case it was your husband.

when he had flat out refused to sign the papers you thought about using one of the fighting moves on him that he showed you but instead you left your shared home with your daughter.

simon truly never felt like his nickname until the first night being alone without his girls giggling and doing each other's makeup, now it's just silence that keeps him awake, it was all overwhelming.

ten minutes later simone came strutting from her room complete in the princess attire, the glittering crown she wore matched the array of purples in the dress and the plastic shoes as well. "is he here yet?"

"not yet baby, i'm sure he will be soon though. do you still have that card for him?" you asked while setting the small dining room table up for three, the image was enough to make your heart flutter.

perhaps you and simon could work this out.

the card simone bought in the store as you shopped for dinner was something she hasn't been able to stop talking about since then nor could she stop bragging to everyone at the store about her dad.

she zoomed to her room then back to the kitchen holding the white envelope with a grin as she bounced back and forth unable to hide the excitement even though she just got done spending a weekend with simon, he truly was her hero and number one, same for you.

to pass time you cleaned up while simone got on her tablet to watch an episode of her show before asking you were simon was.

an hour passed and no calls or texts, dinner was now cold and you were irritated and disappointed. heating the food up you ate in silence with simone who kept glancing at the door with sad eyes.

you wanted to punch simon in the throat for getting her hopes up and you wondered what it was that kept him from coming over because you knew that him seeing simone was the most important thing to him.

another phone call and more unread texts later you finally helped simone out of her dress and into some pjs before tucking her into bed and reading a story. "why didn't daddy come? does he love us?"

her question made you tense as you perched on the side of her bed, simon and love could be like oil and water sometimes, his version of love was never something like this so he tried his best.

"of course, he does honey bug. i think he got caught up into something which happens, he loves you so very much sweet girl."

her blue eyes watered before flowing over down her cheeks as she clutched the rainbow teddybear simon gave her a few months ago.

even at her tender young age simone was beyond smart.

"why can't daddy live with us?" her question wasn't aimed to hurt but you could feel the physical pain bloom in your chest then your throat formed a lump as you fought back the tears as well.

you cleared your throat and brushed her hair back. "it's a lot baby, ok? just get some rest and tomorrow is a new day." you told her and kissed the top of her head before standing up.

making sure her nightlight was turned on you had to fight off the torrent of tears that threatened to break like a dam as you listened to simone sniffle and bury herself deeper under her blankets.

once the door shut with a soft click you quickly made it to the living room and tapped at the screen, each one a flame adding to the raging fire building inside you from simone being stood up.

as much as you hated to say it you were used to it, from the beginning of the relationship there were enough missed dates and anniversaries to fill years old calendar you were sure but you love simon enough to over look all of that, none of it mattered.

that is until you had simone and while it was just you at first you couldn't stand to see your daughter go through the same feelings or have consuming thoughts of whether he'll come or not.

voicemail. again.

you dropped on the couch and rubbed your face before dialing john's number.

voicemail.

soap, same thing.

taking a steadying breath you pushed aside the what-ifs that you've battled for years and tried to keep calm. why the hell isn't he answering his phone? you kept repeating over and over again.

then finally, kyle answered.

"kyle...hi, do you know where simon is?" you asked immediately, not even giving the man to say hello or anything, suddenly your mouth went dry waiting for his answer. "kyle? hello?" you pressed again.

[caitified]

hiii u wrote for one of my asks and i loved it sm omg!! 😭💕 another idea i had was paige x reader where it’s r first relationship and she’s nervous

first

paige bueckers x reader

warnings:none

you and paige both started as rookies at uconn, stepping onto that iconic court with nerves hidden behind your game faces. the first day, she was magnetic, flashing her smile at everyone, tossing casual winks, and making everyone feel like they’d known her forever. it was impossible not to notice her, but you tried to keep your focus on practice, convincing yourself that she was just being friendly.

until she started giving you a little extra attention.

at first, it was small things, like the way she’d nudge your shoulder and whisper comments during drills, her voice close enough to send a chill down your spine. then it escalated. she’d sit next to you in every meeting, offer to walk with you after practice, text you late at night with jokes that always made you laugh, even when you were half asleep. and then, there were her compliments—the way she’d drop them so casually, like saying you were beautiful was as natural as breathing.

but every time you felt yourself start to warm to her, you’d see her charm turned toward someone else, laughing and leaning close to one of the other girls, her signature smile in full effect. it was confusing, especially since you’d never been in a relationship before, never felt this unsure around someone. paige made you want to open up, but her flirtatious nature kept you wary.

one evening after practice, she caught up with you in the hallway, falling into step beside you. “hey,” she said, a playful edge in her tone. “i was thinking… you, me, dinner tonight?”

you hesitated, looking away as you searched for an answer that wouldn’t betray the nervous flutter in your stomach. “i don’t know, paige. i mean… you’re always flirting with everyone. i just… i don’t know if i’m comfortable with that.”

her expression softened, and she stepped in front of you, gently placing her hand on your arm. “hey, it’s not like that with you,” she said, her voice steady, eyes locked on yours. “i mean it. when i flirt with you, it’s because i really like you. it’s… different.”

her words caught you off guard, and you found yourself looking up into her eyes, feeling vulnerable but somehow safe in her gaze. “i’ve never… been in a relationship before. it’s kind of new to me.”

paige’s face softened further, and she gave a small, understanding smile. “hey, that’s okay. i don’t want to rush you. we can go as slow as you want… as long as you let me take you out, just once.”

something about her tone, the sincerity in her eyes, made you feel like maybe you could trust her. “okay,” you said softly, your heart pounding, “just… one date.”

her face lit up, and in that moment, all her usual confidence seemed to turn into pure, genuine excitement. she took your hand and gave it a quick squeeze, then let go, giving you space but looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

that night, she showed up at your door, casual yet somehow making it feel like she’d planned every detail to make you comfortable. the evening was full of laughter, her teasing just the right amount to put you at ease, her kindness wrapping around you like a warm blanket. she kept her promise, letting you set the pace, never pushing further than you were ready.

by the end of the night, as she walked you back, she paused outside your door, her hand lingering at her side. “can i… kiss you?” she asked, her voice gentle, eyes filled with hope and just a hint of nervousness.

you nodded, and as she leaned in, her lips brushed softly against yours, a kiss filled with all the unspoken promises and the feeling of something real, something worth taking a chance on.

she leaned in slowly, her breath warm against your skin as her lips brushed softly against yours. it was a gentle kiss, a tentative promise that left your heart racing and your head spinning. as she pulled back, her eyes searched yours, almost like she was waiting to make sure you were okay.

“was that… alright?” she asked softly, her hand lingering by your cheek.

you nodded, trying to catch your breath, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “yeah. it was more than alright.”

her smile grew, and she looked almost shy for a moment, a vulnerability in her gaze you hadn’t seen before. “good. i was hoping you’d say that.”

she reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you both stood there, the quiet night settling around you. it was strange—paige, the confident, flirty girl who seemed so sure of herself, was here, holding your hand and looking at you like she was just as nervous as you were. it made you feel a little braver, like maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself trust her.

over the next few weeks, she continued to surprise you. every time you started to doubt, she’d do something small but thoughtful, like leaving a snack on your locker with a little note, or waiting after practice just to walk you back to your dorm. it was those small moments, the ones no one else saw, that made you feel like maybe she was serious about this—about you.

one afternoon, you found yourself studying together in a quiet corner of the library. she was pretending to read, but you could feel her gaze on you every few minutes, watching as you flipped through your notes. finally, you looked up, catching her in the act, and she quickly looked away, a blush rising to her cheeks.

“what?” you asked, trying to suppress a smile.

she looked back, meeting your eyes with a smirk. “i can’t help it. you look really cute when you’re focused.”

rolling your eyes, you shook your head, though you couldn’t help the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “you’re such a flirt.”

“only with you,” she said, her voice a little quieter, a hint of seriousness cutting through her usual playfulness.

those words stayed with you, lingering even after she left. the way she said it, so matter-of-fact, made you realize just how much she’d been showing you in her own way. she wasn’t just flirting for fun—she was trying to show you that she was genuinely interested, that this wasn’t just some passing thing.

a few days later, after a tough practice, you found yourselves sitting on the bleachers, watching the empty court as the last of the team trickled out. you were exhausted, sweat still clinging to your skin, but somehow, sitting there with her, it felt like you could stay forever.

“you know,” she started, her gaze fixed on the court in front of you both, “i didn’t think i’d ever feel this way about someone.”

“what way?” you asked, feeling your pulse quicken.

she took a breath, her hands fidgeting as she tried to find the right words. “like… wanting to do things right. like actually caring if i mess this up.” she looked over at you, her eyes serious. “i know i can come off as flirty, and i know that probably makes it hard to believe me. but with you… it’s different. you make me want to be better. you make me want to be… serious.”

her honesty floored you, and for the first time, you felt the last of your hesitation slip away. maybe she was still figuring things out, just like you were, but for the first time, you felt like you could trust her, like this could be something real.

taking a shaky breath, you reached over, intertwining your fingers with hers. “i want this too,” you said quietly, feeling the weight of your own words. “i just… i want to take it slow. i’ve never done this before, and i don’t want to get hurt.”

she nodded, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gentle, comforting gesture. “we’ll go as slow as you want,” she promised, her voice filled with warmth. “i’m not going anywhere.”

and from that moment, things between you changed. she became your person—the one who made you laugh when you felt stressed, the one who was there on your toughest days, the one who never stopped making you feel special. every time she looked at you, there was a warmth, a quiet adoration that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

one night, after a long day, she invited you over to her dorm. you sat on her bed, talking and laughing, sharing stories about family and childhood dreams. the laughter eventually faded, and the room grew quiet as she looked at you, her eyes soft and full of something deeper.

“i want you to know,” she said softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “that i’ve never felt this way about anyone. you… you’re everything i didn’t know i was looking for.”

your heart pounded, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. all the doubts, all the fears, faded away in that moment. she wasn’t just flirting. she wasn’t just playing games. she was here, with you, willing to be patient, willing to make it work.

“i feel the same,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you leaned in, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that held all the words you couldn’t say. it was gentle, slow, and full of promise, a promise that this was just the beginning of something that was real, something that felt like home.

from that night on, you and paige built something together, a connection that grew stronger with each passing day. she was still the flirty, vibrant girl everyone loved, but with you, she was something softer, more vulnerable. she let you see the parts of her that she hid from everyone else, the parts that made her real, that made her yours.

[ifwdominicfike]

the words i cant say

summary - matt is infatuated with you, you’re all he ever thinks about now. having no one to let these secrets out to, he decided why not write about them instead..

it was killing him, having to keep these secrets to himself for so long was tiring. the only thing being his outlet was his journal, pages among pages filled with him just rambling about you. of course he would never tell you these things, afraid of going over your boundaries and ruining the whole friendship.

if you were to ask him what he loved most about you he wouldn’t be able to answer that question, he loved every single bit of you. of course he wrote about that as well, he couldn’t not think about you even if he tried.

a couple weeks ago..

“her everything is perfect, her eyes, her style, her humor, the way her smile brightens when i compliment her on anything - june 19th”

“she looked so pretty today, i kept staring at her lips i hope she didn’t notice.. - june 25th”

“her voice is the sweetest thing i’ve ever heard, i can talk to her for hours - july 12th”

“i cant help but wonder if she thinks about me the way i think about her - july 22nd”

to shorten it down he was in love with you, and he had no plan of telling you anytime soon.

he wanted to push these feelings away, feeling bad for pining over his own best friend while you had no knowledge of it. he couldn’t help it though, he thinks back to the countless amount of times you two had spent together. late night drives, going thrifting, or just staying in watching cheesy rom-com movies.

during group settings his eyes would wonder over to you, staring longingly at you laughing and smiling big while you were having the time of your life. you would turn your head and see his light colored eyes looking at you with a soft expression, which ended up in both of you turning away while heat rushed to your cheeks.

there was some nights where you stayed up thinking about him, just wondering what if? but you brushed it off, thinking maybe its all in your head..

you were coming over today, it was nothing new, you always came over to hang out when you didn’t have anything specifically planned. you were excited to see matt, you haven’t seen him in two weeks due to his work schedule and all of his meetings piled up. he finally had a free day and you were overly excited when he asked you if you wanted to hang out.

you loved spending time with him, no matter what it was. as long as it was with him you were happy.

he had texted you to come whenever you wanted, you were already in pretty comfy clothes so you got your keys and left. the drive there was calm, music flowing through the car consumed the silence and before you know it you’re already in their driveway.

you texted matt that you were outside already and not even a minute passes before you hear the door unlock and open, you were met with his disheveled figure, hair messy, slightly cropped shirt and sweatpants resting low on his waist..

“finally kid you’re here, you were taking forever” a smile spread across his face as he rolled his eyes sarcastically. you step inside as he holds the door for you, “i haven’t seen you in forever and you already have a attitude??” you say raising an eyebrow as you set your keys down on the table.

“oh come on, you know i missed you doll.” that name. you didn’t hear it often but when you did your cheeks would turn bright red as you stumble over your words. that stupid grin on his face said everything you needed to know. “i missed you too, matt!!” you flashed a cheesy smile at him before you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you into his chest.

a couple months ago..

“the feeling of her arms around my waist feels so right.. wish i could always have her this close. - january 17th”

“she has to know what she’s doing, right?? fuck. her smile makes me weak. - january 29th”

“she looked gorgeous in that top with the little bow, her hair done up differently, her pretty jewelry scattered around her figure as well, i couldn’t help but steal glances each time she wasn’t looking in the car. - february 6th”

you return the hug, his comforting scent surrounds you, making you feel at peace. finally feeling his warmth that you longed for for a little too long, you both pull away and his face lights up. “shit- i forgot i had gotten you something when i was away, come on” your face forms into a confused expression “you didn’t have to do that matt, you know that right??” your smile still being very evident as you protest him getting you a gift.

“yeah yeah i know, but it made me think of you so i haddd to get it!” he grabbed your hand and dragged you over to his room, you flop down on the bed as he searches around looking for the gift. you hear him scattering around while muttering words to himself until a certain book under his pillow catches your eye.. you didn’t know matt was getting into reading? “ooh matt what book are you reading?” you hold it up to show him the hardcover journal.

“huh? im not readin- WAIT!“ you open it up to see your name on the first page, several times actually. you scan through it curiously, you finally realize that it was definitely not a regular book. he was basically confessing his love to you in every single page, matt was too late as he rushed over to you snatching the book from your hands.

you quickly stand up, jaw basically on the floor and your face redder than ever. you didn’t even know what to say, its not like you didn’t feel the same because you did.. its just you couldn’t believe he wrote all of that about you. “l-look y/n i can explain i just-“ his words coming out in stutters “matt, matt please, just calm down. okay? y-you’re okay, come on..” you lead him back over to his bed, both of you sitting down at the edge. “im really, really sorry y/n you weren’t supposed to read that. i understand if you feel uncomfortable or if you wanna leav-“ you cut him off bringing your hand to his cheek and leaning in, your lips colliding with his.

you caught him off guard but he instantly kisses back, you smile into the kiss and bring your other hand to back of his neck pulling him more in. his hands traveling down to your hips, holding onto you like you could disappear any moment. you both finally pull away, heavy breathing while you watch that same stupid grin form on his face.

“what?” you ask laughing. “nothing, its just- i’ve always thought i would be the one to kiss you first” his smirk growing wider by the second. “oh shut up, you’re so corny” you roll your eyes in a playful manner and push at his shoulder a little.

“i really did mean it you know? everything i said in that journal. you really, really mean a lot to me and i- i can’t see myself loving anyone else other than you y/n. since the first day i met you.” tears forming in your eyes as he continues to talk, “you mean everything to me. words can’t express how i feel for you, i would’ve said something sooner but i didn’t wanna ruin the relationship we already had and-“ you laugh at his mouth running off again, his nervousness taking over once more.

“matt, please im so sorry but shh. i feel the same way, you weren’t really the best at hiding that staring problem of yours you know..” you giggle at his embarrassed expression “i love you, a lot. you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, you were always there for me whenever i needed someone and you never fail to make my days better. i love you so much.” he watches you in awe, how could someone so precious be in front of him right now?

“so does this mean like, im your boyfriend now, right..?” you giggle and take his hand into yours “well.. i dont know, i haven’t been asked yet..” he smiles and gives your hand a small kiss. “y/n, may i be your boyfriend?” your smile growing ten times bigger before you nod your head immediately. “yes, yes yes YES!” your arms instantly wrapping around his neck as you pull him into another kiss, this time it was filled with love, and patience. the world stopped the second you two filled the gap in between, until you feel him pull back.

“i love you so fucking much y/n. words wont ever be enough for me to show you how much i really do.”

“wait. what about my gift though?”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

my first fic.. this took me like 2 days to write because i had no idea on how to go with this, i feel like its kinda all over the place too it feels rushed to me idk why 😭😭 if there is any mistakes or missing words, NO THERE ISNT. please be nice, again this is my first time writing. im always open for ideas or tips on anything!! also thank you to @flouvela for encouraging me on writing this ILYSM GF 🤍🤍 ok bye now!!

[rinhaler]

𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

would you fuck your high school bully if you got set up on a blind date with him? if he was hot, probably, right?? ... right?

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ ex bully!rensuke kunigami x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: a concept that has rotted my brain for weeks now. ty to @chososdoll for beta reading as per ♡ Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, pro player!kunigami, pleasure dom!kunigami, consent check, overstimulation ♡, multiple orgasms (duh!), pussy eating ♡, fingering, slight nipple play, dumbification, size difference, vaginal sex, dacryphilia ♡, enemies to lovers?, pool sex ♡, skinny dipping, morning sex ♡, wake up blowjob, shush kink?, praise, reader has pubes! (landing strip), calls your pussy 'she', bullying mention, pet names (baby, princess). Words: 15.1k

“This seems a little…”

“What?”

“Sad.” you laugh, repositioning yourself on the couch beside your best friend as you watch your fourth horror film of the evening. She tuts, but not before gesturing that she needed a refill on her wine. So, you reach over to the side table and start taking off the lid for her. “I don’t know. It feels a bit desperate, no?”

“No!” Maisie objects.

She can’t remember the last time she heard you gush about a guy. And honestly, neither can you. It’s been forever since you went on a date. And it’s been even longer since you got laid. You shake the thought away as you pour the red liquid into her empty glass.

You’re happy alone, for now, you think. It’s not like you feel lonely. Admittedly, it isn’t the best feeling when you have to listen to all of your friends talk about their date nights or cosy nights in with their partners. It isn’t the end of the world, though. Maybe happy is a strong word to describe how you feel.

You’re content being alone.

“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy,” she continues, lifting the wine to her lips when you finish filling her glass. “Just meet him. He’s so sweet, and he’s gorgeous!”

“You fuck him then!” you laugh. She takes the opportunity to flaunt her engagement ring that she hasn’t even had for a week yet. You roll your eyes, but laugh, grabbing her hand so you can examine it again. It is beautiful. Are you a bad friend? Because the stab of jealousy you suddenly feel is almost painful. “I’ve never been on a blind date. I didn’t even realise they were still a thing, why won’t you just show me him?”

“I promise he’s extremely sexy. Trust me, if I wasn’t engaged I’d definitely take him for a ride.” she giggles, and you laugh back at that. She has similar taste to you, so you’re sure you’ll feel the same way when you see him. It’s intimidating though. You’re putting complete faith in her that she won’t fuck you over. And then, you realise, you’re thinking about it as if you’ve already accepted. Maybe it’s a sign. You should just take the plunge. “I don’t want to tell you too much and spoil the fun, but—”

“I’ll do it.”

“Y- really?!” she wiggles a little closer to you in excitement, her wine sloshing in her glass as she approaches. “I’m gonna text him now! Eeeeeeek!” she squeals, putting her wine down and picking up her phone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her fingers move so fast as she texts the mystery man.

You want to pry for more information, but you know her too well. She’s stubborn. And the blind date aspect for her is too exciting. There’s no use trying to get her to spill. Though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to extract even a slither of information.

“How do you know him?”

“He’s a client.” she pays you no mind, perfectly manicured fingers tap away at her phone as she formulates a text message.

You’re surprised, for multiple reasons. You hadn’t expected her to answer that truthfully, let alone with no hesitation. It came so easy for her to say; which means one of two things. Either, it’s true, or, she had a well-crafted lie prepared in case you asked that very question. But if it’s true… that’s interesting.

She’s a social media manager. And while her clients aren’t necessarily A-Listers, they aren’t exactly nobody’s, either.

“Oh my God, is he a footballer?” you smile, widely. She peers up from her phone and you find it hard to read her expression. She’s always had a good poker face, but you’ve known her long enough to recognise her tells. And when she licks her lips, you have your answer. “AH! Is he rich? Oh I bet he’s gorgeous, fuck, is he shredded? Like—”

“The horny jumped out!” she laughs, and you playfully hit her arm before laughing along with her. She doesn’t say anything else about it. Now, she is fully committed to the blind element of the date. “I’ll drop you off, I’ll tell him what you’re wearing so he knows it’s you. He said he’s free Thursday night, does that work?”

“Sure.”

“Great! So 9PM on Thursday.”

“Um…” you hesitate. Fucking 9PM? You know you aren’t that old, you’re in your mid-twenties for crying out loud, but that seems very late. You’re usually tired by 10 o’clock. But you refuse to risk her chastising you for being boring. So, you suck it up with a beaming smile, “Perfect.” it almost hurts to say.

She claps, enthusiastically, before picking up her abandoned wine glass again. You’re both silent, fixated on the movie. But you spot Maisie out of the corner of your eye finish her drink in a hearty swig. You don’t comment, though, still trying your damnedest to focus on the movie. It’s too late, though, you’ve missed most of the plot since she started plotting and preparing your upcoming date. You don’t dare break the silence, though. She looks utterly engrossed.

However your own attempt at concentrating is thwarted when you hear her glass land a little too harshly onto her coaster. It doesn’t smash, thankfully, but you’re both staring at each other after that.

“I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening in this.” she admits, and you laugh, agreeing. “Let’s go plan your outfit for Thursday!” she suggests, throwing the blanket you’re sharing off her body before walking hastily to your bedroom.

This is so her.

She’s more excited for this date than you are.

“Deep breaths, you look gorgeous!” she assures you, holding your hand as you squeeze it again and again to calm your nerves. “For what it’s worth, by the way, he’s my sweetest client. He’s really respectful and kind, a lot of them can be rude but he’s never been like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! He’s really understanding.” she nods, eagerly. “Do you want me to come in and wait with you?”

“No, um… c-can you wait and let me know when he’s coming in? Or, just be here in case I get stood up.”

“Don’t even think that, he’s excited! He’ll be here. I’ll drop him so fast if he does, but I know he won’t.” she assures you.

You take another deep breath before smiling at her. She reaches over to give you a hug. It’s a tight, reassuring squeeze that makes you feel better for a fleeting moment. She waves like a child when you step out of the car, and she wolf whistles before you close the door.

If nothing else, at least you look good. You both agreed that there’s nothing like a little black dress, and your high heels accentuate your legs. They clack as you stomp across the pavement. And when you realise your steps are in time with your heartbeat you think it wise to slow down.

As the entrance to the restaurant comes into view, you look down the street and give your friend one final wave. Though, really, it’s meaningless. You know as soon as you sit down you’ll pull your phone out and start texting her in a panic. The maître d’ welcomes you with a beaming smile, checking the reservation list for the booking strategically made under Maisie’s name.

Still so committed to the blindness of the date.

It’s sort of exciting to think he doesn’t know anything about you, either. Though it’s scaring you slightly that he could take one look at you and turn around. And you won’t know until it’s too late. You won’t know until you’re being pestered to order after telling the wait staff that your date hasn’t arrived yet several times.

They’ll have to be polite despite how humiliating it is to tell you that other patrons need to be seated and seen to and you’re wasting their time. You’ll have to swallow your pride and leave. You can’t possibly eat alone after shouldering such a burning humiliation.

Oh God.

You text Maisie. And your fingers tremble as you type out the message. Telling her that you cannot go through with this and that you’re about to leave. A barrage of texts come through as she tries to give you a pep talk. But your anxiety flares and your leg begins to bounce as you try and shake the nervous energy from it.

Part of you thinks it’s best to stay sober, but your body is screaming differently. One drink won’t hurt, you decide, ordering two glasses of wine in case your date ever turns up.

And then you remember who he is. Or who he might be. He’s a client of your best friend, the social media manager. He must have some level of fame to need that representation. You’re pretty sold on the idea that he is likely a footballer. And through this thought process you manage to relax, if only a little. If he’s famous, he could be busy.

You decide to offer him some grace.

Though you should have given him the time to be really late before you got so worked up. You’ve only been seated for three minutes, after all. It’s not like he’s stood you up for an hour. You decide you’ll give him fifteen minutes before you leave. That’s a suitable amount of time to be able to leave and not look really foolish.

Every person that enters makes your heart race. Is it him? Only to realise it’s a couple or a double date or a family party in tow. You check the time on your phone, nine minutes have passed. Your cheeks fill with air as you puff it out slowly through pursed lips.

YOU: he’s not coming. MAISIE MOO 🐮: dw he just called me! he was stuck in traffic!!! YOU: rly? MAISIE MOO 🐮: yah! should be there any minute, have fun 😉

Your heart rate intensifies again as you see a man walk through the entrance and close an umbrella as he greets the maître d’. It prompts you to look outside, the windows are practically black save for a few lights on in the buildings across the road. But your eyes focus on the fat raindrops and their white outlines as they roll down the glass. How didn’t you notice the sudden torrential downpour?

Even from your seat at such a distance from the entrance you can see how large and well defined his hand is as he shakes raindrops from his orange hair. The colour makes you shiver, but you bat it away. It’s him, it has to be him. He’s alone, after all. And you see the maître d’ smile in your direction.

Hell, he might be happier that he showed up than you are.

You hear him laugh, and it’s deep, as he’s guided into the restaurant. And you can’t help but smile as you see him. He’s handsome, very handsome, and he has such a positive energy beaming from him. His face seems warm despite being chilled by the wetness of the rain. There’s pink in his cheeks and at the tip of his nose as he continues to smile kindly.

And, really, you’re speechless.

He smiles so sweetly, you almost didn’t recognise him, as he takes his seat opposite to you. And he thanks you for the wine. His eyes betray him as he looks at you with optimism. You know him, you’ve always known him. Those amber eyes that you’ve never seen in another man again since him. They seem so kind, now.

But you know better.

While he knows nothing.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he grins, looking briefly over the menu. “I got stuck in traffic and then I had a hard time in the car park.” he laughs, his thumb indicating he’s referring to the multi-story car park down the road. The one notorious for its broken machines and confusing layout.

“Well, you’re here now.” you smile, weakly. Tipping the remaining contents of your glass until it flows between your lips. It goes down smooth and you almost feel it swim directly to your braincells, feeling slightly faint until your senses return to you again. You blink it away, and your eyes squint at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” you tell him.

“Oh, sure.” he smiles. “Should I order for you if the waiter comes by? What would you like?”

“Are you paying or are we splitting the bill?” you wonder, taking his menu from his hand before he can even register that it’s gone. Your eyes scan the menu quickly, not looking for anything in particular.

“I’m old fashioned, so—”

“Great, then I want this.” you tell him, pointing to the most expensive meal on the menu as you place it back into his grip. He chuckles, gently, before looking up at you. Your smile filled with anger and malice as you turn on your heel to find the bathroom. “Oh, and an expensive meal should be paired with an expensive drink, right?” you tell him, leaving before he can respond.

He watches as you approach a waiter, asking where you can find the bathroom. They point you in the right direction. But before you go, you point towards the table your date is still seated at, telling them you’re ready to order. You ascend the staircase to the second floor and slip away into the bathroom and out of your dates line of sight.

Your heart pounds furiously.

Little hands shake as you search for your phone in your purse. Christ, you could use a cigarette right now. You feel light-headed as you take deeper and deeper breaths as you pull up your texts, your fingers tremble as you lean against the sinks.

YOU: do you hate me? be honest MAISIE MOO 🐮: ???? what’s wrong? Do u think he’s ugly? YOU: no he isn’t ugly. ANNOYINGLY. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! MAISIE MOO 🐮: … MAISIE MOO 🐮: what? YOU: do u remember me telling u about a school bully 😊 MAISIE MOO 🐮: stop it YOU: YOU SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH MY BULLY!! WHAT DO I DO?? MAISIE MOO 🐮: NOOOOOOOOOO MAISIE MOO 🐮: OMG OMG OMG IM SORRY MAISIE MOO 🐮: FUCK YOU: I told him to order me the most expensive stuff on the menu bc he’s paying.. so I might just eat and dip MAISIE MOO 🐮: stopppppp omg lmk when ur done I will pick u up im so sorry ily

You sigh, putting your phone back in your purse. Is that really the right thing to do? Maybe not right, it’s morally wrong, of course. But is it the best decision to make? Do you really want to sit and eat a meal you probably won’t enjoy with your former bully watching your every move?

“Fuck.” you whisper to yourself. You decide to pee while you’re here, and you wash your hands for longer than you intended. It’s distracting you from your worries as you stare at yourself in the mirror and feel the comfort of the warm water encasing your hands as you clean them. You shake them when your done, little drops of water landing back in the sink before you go to the hand dryer. Maybe you’re stalling. You’re definitely stalling as you realise you’re drying your hands for far too long.

With one final look into the mirror, you take a deep breath and decide to return to your date. He smiles as he sees you descend the stairs again. And instinctively, you smile back. It’s a habit you’ve developed, not necessarily a bad one. But in this instance, it feels like a betrayal to yourself. You tell yourself to remain straight faced as you sit down, pulling your chair closer to the table.

“I’m Rensuke, by the way. I realise I didn’t introduce myself.” he grins, beaming white teeth almost blinding you as he awkwardly holds his hand out for you to shake. “Sorry, been a while since I had a date.” he laughs as he puts his hand down.

“I know who you are.” you laugh in return, though it’s not because of what he said. You just can’t help but find yourself amused over the fact he doesn’t recognise you. He laughs, too, looking a little uncomfortable all the while. He scratches his head as he nods, coming to his own conclusion.

“Oh, right. You’re a football fan, then? Sorry, you didn’t strike me as the type.” he continues, assuming you’re familiar with him through his fame. You hold your eyes shut for a beat too long, an annoyed smirk creeping its way onto your face as you try to bite your tongue.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” you comment, taking a swig from your newly filled wine glass. He cocks his head in confusion, but drinks with you. “So, why are you here? In London, I mean. I assumed you’d be… not here.” you ask, unable to control your tongue. There’s venom in your words, but not enough to kill.

“Um, I—” he clears his throat, coughing into his balled-up fist. His honeyed eyes find yours again, an incredulous look appears on his face as he formulates his thoughts in his mind. “I feel like I’m being set up.” he chuckles, though you can sense the worry behind his voice.

You take another sip from your wine glass. A sip turns to a glug as you empty the red liquid from the crystalline glass. You refill it yourself; sensing things are about to go south very quickly.

“This wasn’t really a blind date, right? Maisie told you who I am and you wanted to meet me. Am I right?” he wonders. And at that, you do scoff. And now you’ve lost all interest in holding your tongue.

“Oh my God. You’re so full of yourself, you haven’t changed at all.” you tell him, crossing one leg over the other as you rummage through your purse in search of a cigarette that will never appear. “I had no idea I was being set up with you. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have agreed.” you tell him without remorse. Defeated, you throw your purse down to the ground by your feet.

There’s a sense of shame flaring within you that you couldn’t keep it together until the end of your date. Of all the people roaming planet earth right now, why did he have to be your blind date? You stare at him as you observe his confused expression, he’s utterly bewildered by your words.

“I’m… we’ve met before, huh? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble remembering. I— are you a fan? Or… were you?” he asks, trying to decipher your identity. You scoff, again, preparing to stand to your feet. He reaches across the table and grabs your wrist. You look down at his large, veiny hand and then into his eyes. Your own vibrating with a slight twinge of fear. You feel like that teenage girl all over again.

“Let. Go.” you warn him, voice quiet through your gritted teeth. He relinquishes his hold of you instantly, apologising profusely. He’s just confused about what he could have done for you to hold such disdain for him. But your warning replays in his mind like a record on repeat. It’s like his fractured memories are forming again, becoming whole as he hears your voice again and again.

Let go.

You sounded so much weaker back then. You’re more defiant, now.

“Are you Ryusei Shidou’s little cousin?” he asks, eyes widening and brows raising in excitement. You sigh, sitting properly in your chair with correct posture as your eyes look angrily at him.

“No, I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not really cousins your families are just close. I remember.” he smiles. His eyes almost dazzle as he looks at you, all recollection of his past hits him like lightning as he repeats your name again and again like a mantra. “Is that really you?”

“It’s really me.” you repeat, sarcastically. “Cancel the food order, you can still pay for the wine.” you tell him as you pick up your purse and prepare to leave.

“What? Why? We should catch up!” he tells you, an expectant look on his face as he hopes to convince you.

“I don’t want to catch up with you?” you tell him.

“But… why not? It’s been so long since we saw each other.”

You signal the maître d’ when you finally catch his attention. Rensuke looks disappointed as you continue to ignore him. Instead, you alert the man that you’ll be leaving early and to cancel your orders. But you make sure to tell him that Rensuke will happily cover the bill. And he does, hastily pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet as you depart the restaurant. He hurries after you, he’s in slight disbelief when he realises how fast you are. You’re almost halfway down the road when he finally exits the restaurant.

“Slow down!” he calls out to you, running right up behind you until he’s walking at your pace. He opens his umbrella and holds it above your head as you carry on walking. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep this up.”

“Leave me alone.”

“At least take my umbrella.” he requests, “I’ll go to my car and leave right now if that’s what you really want. But at least take it while you wait for a ride home.”

You accept, not too proud to take something that might offer you a small comfort in the absolutely obscene downpour plaguing the city. How quickly you’ve transformed from a vixen to a drowned rat. He must be loving this.

“I really would like to catch up with you, y’know…” he smiles.

You look up at him as the rain soaks his gorgeous gingery locks dampening and sticking to his forehead. Maybe he has changed. It’s been years after all. He’s grown up, it’s plain to see from his chiselled jawline alone. And he was always big back then. One of the tallest guys in your class, and so big and beefy to boot from playing so much football and training in the gym.

He terrified you.

And now, he’s bigger. An inch or two taller and completely filled out into an even more muscular physique.

“I can take you home, too. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want to… but, it’s freezing. You’ll be waiting ages for a taxi or for Maisie to come get you.” he speaks softly. And unfortunately, he’s right. You know all too well how tough it is to get taxis around this time, but it would be worse if it was the weekend so at least you’re thankful for it being a Thursday. You want to decline. You’re so ready to decline.

But for some reason—

“Okay.” you nod. You walk ahead, though, leaving him behind as you walk to the parking complex you’re pretty confident that he used. He laughs, hurrying after you again and allowing you to lead the way. It seems you know the area way better than him.

He guides you to the elevator and to the top floor of the complex. You aren’t sure what you expected when you step out. It’s not like you’re familiar with cars. But you were expecting some kind of expensive sports model. A Ferrari or something. Instead, you’re greeted to a black Range Rover.

It’s definitely outside of your pay grade, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“I thought you’d have a nicer car, Rensuke.” you decide to goad him, thinking it’s the least he deserves at this point.

“This is my incognito car.” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at you as he unlocks it. Of course he has an incognito car. You huff a little as he helps you up and into it, closing the door behind you. He circles around the back and you see him looking around in the boot before he comes to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel. He gives you a towel, presumably used for his training days, and tells you to dry off. “My nicer cars are at home, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, wait…” you snicker as a thought comes to you. “Were you gonna try and pretend you’re a nobody if I didn’t recognise you?”

His face fills with a pink hue as he feels completely caught out. And you can’t help but burst into hysterics. It’s tough for him, meeting girls who will actually like him for him and not his bank account. When Maisie suggested a blind date, he thought it was as good a chance as any to try and form a natural connection.

“Anyway, I’ll take you home now.” he tells you, trying to change the subject. “Sorry the date didn’t go to plan.”

You huff, again, as you try to dry your skin with the towel. Eventually you give up and use it as a horribly soggy blanket. “I can’t believe you even wanted to go on a blind date. Girls used to throw themselves at you in school. I told Maisie a blind date seemed really desperate.”

“Did we go to the same school? I was a virgin ‘til we left.” he informs you. You look at him, surprised, and he nods to clarify. “I was focused on football and shit, didn’t have time for girls.”

“Well, you had time to bully one girl.” you remind him, regretting saying it instantly. You thought confronting him would feel better than this, cooler. Like you can finally get closure and make him feel almost a fraction as bad as he made you feel back then. But instead, really, it just feels… cringe.

He offers a weak smile at you. The tension could be cut with a knife as he pulls out of his parking space and drives down each floor. He wants to say something, and really, so do you. Maybe you should just let the hatred go. It was a really long time ago, after all.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good guy back then, but I like to think I’ve changed a lot.” he speaks, eyes focusing on the road as the street lights and car beams blind him in the rain. “Your cousin bullied me, y’know. Dunno if he ever told you, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair though, so I’m really sorry.”

“He is not—”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, princess.” he smirks, “I wouldn’t want to claim a relation to that blonde freak either.”

The insult towards Ryusei makes you laugh. You’re still close with him to this day, and ‘blonde freak’ is the perfect descriptor. But you don’t like to think of him as being capable of bullying. You had a feeling that was why you were subject to Rensuke’s torment each day, but you didn’t want to discover the truth. He always made it a point to vilify you for being related to Ryusei. Though you adamantly denied it each time.

“So, you were a prick to me for being related to someone I wasn’t even related to?” you respond, seriously. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Though you’re unsure any answer to his bullying would have made you feel better. It hurts to know you suffered so much, ultimately, for nothing. “Wish I told him you were picking on me, he would have fucking killed you.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” he laughs a little. It’s soft, but not weak. It’s almost like acceptance. As though he deserves anything and everything you’ll throw at him. “We’re good now, though, if we’re in the same place we’ll meet up for drinks. He’s a fucking good player, too. Always admired him. He kept me in my place for a long, long time.”

You stare at him as he speaks. How have you never noticed how soft his features are? He’s so relaxed, peaceful. He looks at you briefly when he notices you staring, but just as quickly looks at the road again as his cheeks fill with heat, reddened with embarrassment.

“I was immature…” you start, looking down at your shivering, wet thighs as you decide to accept your own faults, too. “It’s been a long time since then. And we were young, it’s obvious that you’ve changed. I didn’t give you a chance and I was childish.”

“No, no—”

“I’m serious. Ordering the most expensive stuff and going off in a strop, that was really immature so... I’m sorry.” you tell him, and he smiles at that. He can’t help but think you’re a great girl. He looks over at you again, smiling so widely his eyes close.

“You never gave me your address, y’know.” he reminds you, laughing when the realisation hits you that you’d let him drive off with no real destination in mind. “Is it too late for that catch up?” he wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. The orange and brown colour tainted with sparkles of red as the stop light reflects from them.

And you’re powerless.

You find yourself agreeing before your brain can even keep up with the way you’re shaking your head. No, it isn’t too late. And his smile is almost as blinding as the headlights of each car in the road illuminating the falling raindrops and deep puddles forming in the street.

“I know where we can go…” he thinks to himself

Bowling.

You never thought you’d be coming somewhere like this. Truthfully, you feel like a kid again. You remember skimming some money from your daily lunch allowance given by your parents to save up enough to go to the arcade every weekend with your friends. Saving the extra coins to use the DDR machine.

Let’s just say you mastered Captain Jack on expert difficulty.

“Another strike? You’re too good, puttin’ me to shame.” Kunigami laughs before picking up a ball and preparing for his turn. “You better not tell anyone you thrashed me; my reputation will be in tatters.” he warns you, jokingly.

You watch him as he takes a swing and hits all but two pins, leaving an awkward split between them. You hear him mutter under his breath but can’t decipher whatever it is he was talking about.

For some reason, you feel like he’s going easy on you. It’s not like he was a stranger to the arcade either back in the day. You always scarpered whenever he showed up with his friends, deciding it was the perfect time to grab a bite to eat and hope by the time you were done they’d be gone.

“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I knew you were gonna show me up like this.” he smiles, sitting next to you after completing his turn. “I didn’t know you liked bowling, thought you just liked using the dance machines.”

“You remember?”

“Yeah, uh,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck as he recalls the memories from way back then. “Me ‘n Raichi, remember Raichi? Anyway, girls on the dance mats… well, we were teenagers, so—”

“Oh my God you’re so embarrassing.” you interrupt him to put a stop to his stuttering.

“Look, it was a sexual awakening that’s all I’m saying.” he laughs. “And you were the best one, never missed a step. I remember we used to watch you for ages before we came in to scare you away.”

“Disgusting. Pair of perverts!” you lightly smack his arm as you continue to tease him. “I was good, though. Wonder if I could still pull it off…” you look at the machines in the distance as you contemplate restoring your former glory, you feel a newfound sense of confidence as you think about Rensuke finding you attractive back then.

You decide to go for it.

He follows you as you approach the machine, standing on the second player arrows right next to you.

“Always wanted to try!” he shrugs as you look at him suspiciously. “You can teach me.”

“No, I can’t.” you laugh, slotting two-pound coins into the machine so you can both play. “It’s just memory and hoping your feet will respond in time. Good luck, though.”

“Yeah, sounds like you have real faith in me.” he rolls his eyes, throwing his coat over the red metal bar behind him and rolling up his sleeves. You quickly kick off your high heels as you scroll through the songs. You hover over Captain Jack, and his face lights up as memories of you back then flow through his mind. “You always did this one. There was a different one I remember liking, though…” he tells you.

He starts to scroll through the songs, listening to them carefully as he searches for the one he remembers. Your eyes widen in horror as he settles on one, and he looks at you with pride.

“This one!” he exclaims, loudly.

“No, no way. I could never get the hang of it and I’m even more out of practice now. Afronova is too hard it won’t even be fun!” you warn him, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Let’s do it la—” he interrupts you by pressing the select button.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“You put it on the hardest difficult, idiot. We’re fucked!” you laugh, but get into position. You’re both definitely going to fuck it up, but at the very least you’ll get a good laugh out of seeing him eat his words.

All colour drains from his face as he sees all of the arrows immediately come into view on the screen. He barely knows where to look let alone where to plant his feet. He looks at your side of the screen, though, seeing you miss a fair few moves yourself but you manage to keep up the pace enough to earn some words of praise from the machine.

If you’d know you were going to be doing this, you definitely would have worn a bra. You hold your arms across your chest as you continue to jump and follow along with the arrows as best you can. Kunigami, however, decided to give up and watch you instead. He puts his feet down a few times on ones he think he might actually be able to get.

You’re left panting by the time the song comes to an end and your final foot stomp leaves you breathless. Rensuke claps, proudly.

“Fucking hell.” you gasp for air, leaning over the red bar behind you. You think you might actually throw up. “You dick, you barely did anything either.”

“I was captivated by the master at work, you were amazing!” he praises you, and you can’t help but giggle. “I think we should do an easy one next.”

“Agreed…” you respond, flipping through the songs until you land on 5678 by Steps.

You both laugh and joke as you easily follow along with the routine on baby mode. And it’s easy to keep up a conversation with him like this. Discussing more memories of spotting each other in the arcade and what you got up to on weekends.

It makes you sad, in a way. Knowing how sweet he is now and what he was capable of back then. You could have been friends, great friends. Maybe even best friends. Though you’re sure Raichi wouldn’t have liked that.

He allows you to pick your favourite song for the final round. And, naturally, he can’t keep up with you. But this time he actually does his best. But for you, it’s like muscle memory. You don’t miss a single step through the whole routine and you don’t even feel out of breath when it’s over. Kunigami however is sweating and panting again, his already wet hair sticking onto his forehead again as the sweat clings to it.

“It’s getting late.” you tell him, “Should we get some gross bowling alley food and call it a night?” you wonder, moving to pick up your discarded high heels so that you can decide what to do.

He rushes by you and hops off of the step, snatching your shoes up before you can. You watch him, nervously, as he gets down on one knee while holding your black pumps. You’re too speechless to object when he helps you slip your feet back into them, so delicately. And he smiles up at you from his lowly position as you gain another six inches of height. He holds his hand out to you, helping you down the step after you take it.

You exhale, deeply, after feeling how unbelievably soft his hands are.

“I think I’ll get a hot dog.” he thinks, not letting go of your hand and he leads you up the small flight of stairs and into the eating area.

“Oh, the burgers were good last time I came here.”

“Ohhhh fuck you’re right, I’m getting one too.” he laughs, ushering you into a secluded spot to sit down. “What do you want to drink? I’ll run up and order everything now.” he smiles.

You quickly look through the drinks menu and tell him you want a strawberry and lime Kopparberg. He nods approvingly at your choice. You watch him walk up to the bar to order, unable to take your eyes off him. He’s chatty with the bartender, and you wonder what else they’re talking about. You see him grab a pad of paper and a pen from behind the bar, handing them over to Rensuke. And he smiles, happily, signing it for him. You see the man thanking him over and over before Rensuke walks back over to you.

“You only just got recognised?” you tease him.

“It’s rarer than you’d think, y’know.” he laughs, “he said his kid is a fan. No big deal.” he shrugs, sliding your drink over to you.

He moves on from the subject of his fame and status in favour of complimenting you again. Telling you how talented you are and how fun it’s been hanging out with you again. You end up telling him about your job. It’s nothing fancy but pays the bills. You tell him about how you pretty much fell into the job of doing admin work for a law firm and now you’re training to be a solicitor.

His face lights up as you tell him. Like he’s proud. Or maybe it’s a twinge of relief that he didn’t fuck you up mentally enough to ruin your life. Either way, his smile is contagious. It only grows wider when your two plates of food are put down in front of you. And you hate that you’re trying to eat politely. There is absolutely no way to eat a dirty burger in a ladylike manner. He laughs at you when a dollop of ketchup drops on your chest and tries to slither down your cleavage. But, ever the gentleman, he cleans it up quickly with a napkin.

“Sorry,” he hesitates after realising how intimate it is. He hands it to you and you finish clearing your chest. “Good call on the burgers, though, they’re so good.”

You smile as you chew your food, still doing all you can to appear polite and demure. But he doesn’t mind, or care. Canines tear his burger apart with ease, and he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling each time he looks at you.

“So,” you start, putting down the final bite of your burger in favour of taking a swig of your drink. “You perving over me, did that affect the bullying?” you wonder, laughing lightly as he almost chokes on his food.

“I wasn’t perving, it was, I— ugh. I always thought you were cute. But I wasn’t about to tell you that.”

“You thought I was cute?”

“Oh, like you didn’t have a big fat crush on me? I heard the rumours.” Kunigami laughs, drinking his beer as he leans back into his seat.

“No, no, rumours and hearsay. I told one girl I thought you were hot on our first day and it turned into a game of broken telephone and spread like wildfire. I hated you!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” he winks before taking another drink. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”

You shake your head, opting to finish your burger instead of disputing it further. He does the same, leaning back and sighing with relief before taking another drink. He slaps his stomach, as if he’s gained a beer bellying rather than possessing the rock-hard abs that you know reside there.

“This was fun. Really fun.” he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to get comfortable in the booth seat. You nod, agreeing. “What are we calling… this?” he wonders.

“What do you mean?”

“Was it just a ‘catch up’ or could it still have been a date?” he asks, smiling when your eyes widen and your face flushes with heat so much that you feel the need to fan yourself. You tell him that you’re just hot from eating, but another cocky eye roll tells you that he’s not buying that. “I’m hoping you’ll say it was a date, if you were wondering.” he speaks, low and gravelly as he leans across the table to tell you.

“Well, it was technically a date. Just not the location we’d planned.”

“I enjoyed this a lot more.” he tells you, looking around at all of the arcade machines and the people bowling in the distance. “I go to snooty restaurants a lot, I don’t get a chance to relax like this as much. So, thank you.”

“R-Right, no problem.” you smile, unsure of what to say. “I guess we should get going, then.” you finish, gathering yourself and clutching onto your purse as you prepare to shuffle out of the booth. He looks a little deflated, then, but he follows your lead.

He puts his arm around you as he guides you to his car, helping you inside again. He even gives you his jacket to wear when he notices you shivering. Though you opt to wear it over yourself like a blanket.

You look out of the window as he climbs inside and shuts the door. The rain stopped while you were bowling, but it’s still so dark out. It’s damp and dreary, it’s just miserable, really. But the cold chill of staring out into the black abyss leaves you when Kunigami turns on the radio. Some generic pop music you’ve never heard in your life, and it makes you feel old and out of touch. But the face he pulls says the same story, and he begins flicking through other stations until he hears something he recognises.

“S-So… do you live nearby?” you ask him, curiously.

“I do! Just got a new place a few weeks ago, I’m still unpacking.” he smiles as he envisions all of the moving boxes still piled up in each room. “So where am I taking you?”

“If you go to Maisie’s office I can direct you from there.” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt into place as he pulls up directions on his phone to the office. You look out of the front window when you hear raindrops begin to pitter patter again. “Um… Rensuke…” you start, hesitating to speak as you wonder what the fuck you’re even thinking of doing right now.

“What’s up?” he asks, eyes darting to you before he starts the car. The only thing that can be heard is the light drops of rain. It makes your skin jitter, you feel a chill as you look at Kunigami, the rain rolling down the windows in your peripheral vision and you feel thankful to be here and not out there.

You feel desperate. And you’re sure you’re going to humiliate yourself, but you don’t want the night to end. In a million years, you never would have pictured yourself enjoying the company of Rensuke Kunigami. He’s a busy man, you’re sure. He fit you into his busy schedule and you’re sure he has better things to do than spend all of his free time on a date. A date that is supposed to be drawing to a close.

But you don’t say that.

In fact, you barely say anything.

He can’t help but smile, though, knowing exactly where your next destination will be.

“I don’t want tonight to end, either.” he confesses. You feel your body become lighter as you realise he feels the same way. He starts the car promptly, and you note how sure he is about where he’s taking you. “Can I show you my new place?” he asks.

He’s so cocksure as he says it. His eyes don’t meet yours and you sense it’s because he knows you’ll say yes. And who are you to disappoint? You’re curious, anyway. You wonder if it will be as impressive as you’re envisioning in your mind. Footballers are rich, aren’t they? But maybe he isn’t a high earning player. Either way, you’re curious to see the home that your former bully has worked so hard for.

You lose track of time as you pull up to his house. Or mansion, you should say. He’s allowed through the security gate currently being manned by a member of staff, and he drives up and towards a three door garage. You can’t believe you’re visiting somewhere like this, it feels like a dream.

It’s something Maisie is accustomed to, Rensuke even tells you how confidently she strutted around and didn’t even bat an eyelid when she came over to discuss his contract. But you’re left speechless as more comes into view.

He doesn’t bother parking in the garage, pulling up directly to the stairs leading up to the front door. He’s out first, doing a little jog around your side to open the door and help you out.

“I didn’t bring you here to brag, by the way.” he insists.

“And here I was thinking you were trying to woo me into bed.” you laugh, and laugh harder the redder his face becomes. He holds his hands up defensively, waving them dismissively as he tries to assure you that was not his intention.

“I’ll take you home right after if you want! I swear I wasn’t—”

“Relax! I was teasing you.” you tell him, bumping into him as you enter the mansion. He offers you a drink, which you accept, happily. He pours you a glass of wine but gets himself some water directly from the tap. “You aren’t drinking?” you question, feeling a little uncomfortable that you’re drinking alone.

“I won’t be able to take you home if I drink more than I already have.” he chuckles, handing your wine to you.

He drinks his water, and you take a sip of your wine. His smile, that beautiful smile, it’s so disarming. You’re tottering on your heels to walk by his side as he encourages you to follow him. You feel as though time is flying when he takes you from room to room. There are still moving boxes in each room but it doesn’t detract from the lavishness of it all.

You laugh when he tells you there’s a tennis court out back.

“What are you going to do with a tennis court?” you giggle.

“Play tennis, I suppose.” he laughs back.

You don’t mind even a little when you feel his cold hand come into contact with the even colder skin between your shoulder blades. You mind even less when his hand snakes down your spine and settles in the small of your back as he guides you to the next room.

“Oh wow…” you express, hit by the warmth of the room. Your heels clack against the tiles with each step you take. You leave his side as you get closer and closer to your target. And you scream, smacking Kunigami’s arm as he rushes behind you and presses his fingers into your sides. “An indoor pool… you’ve really fucking made it.” you tell him, and he shrugs.

“There’s one outside as well.” he informs you.

“Now that was a brag.” you laugh.

“Shit, was it?”

“Absolutely.

You crouch down to the balls of your feet, letting your fingers swim through the pristine pool water. You aren’t quite sure how to describe the colour of it, but it’s mesmerising, as if sage and turquoise paint mixed specifically to fill this pool.

He takes your hand and encourages you to stand upright again. And he doesn’t let go as he leads you out of the room. The thought of going back to your poky apartment after being in here is harrowing.

It almost feels like he’s doing charity work.

There’s a rumble outside that causes you both to stop in your tracks. And once you enter the living room again, you see the heavy rain pouring down violently on the windows again. It’s louder than before. The raindrops are weightier.

He squeezes your hand as you yelp after seeing a bolt of lightning pierce through the sky. You look up at him, eyes full of grace as those honeyed eyes warm your soul for the umpteenth time tonight.

“There’s a weather warning from The Met Office…” he tells you as he checks the time on his phone. He lets go of your hand to look at you again, unsure of what to say. “I can take you home… before it gets any worse…” he whispers. His voice betrays him, though. You can hear the voice of a liar interspersed with his desperation to be a good guy.

He doesn’t want you to leave.

You don’t want to leave, either.

“It’s… dangerous, though…” you start, looking out of the window again at the gloomy weather.

“In that case…” he bends down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You should stay.”

You mewl, softly, as he not-quite kisses against your ear and the smooth skin behind it. And your head tilts, for him, so that he can press one final kiss against your neck. You don’t want it to stop, but he withdraws himself with a cheeky smirk while your eyes are heavy with lust.

It’s been so long.

Too long.

You might have lived your whole life up to now without being kissed like that.

He curls his finger, instructing you to follow him back upstairs. You put down your wine glass and hurry after him. He doesn’t wait, this time, leading ahead as he brings you to one of the bedrooms.

“Wait here.” he commands, and you do.

You walk up to the standing mirror against the wall and check yourself out. Trying to make sure you makeup hasn’t smudged or there isn’t food in your teeth. Your hair is still soaked, but that can’t be helped. When he walks back into the room you quickly back away from the mirror as if you’d been caught doing something wrong.

“The bathroom is just opposite to here.” he reminds you, pointing.

You look down at the pile of items he brought in from another room. There’s an unopened three-pack of toothbrushes and a brand-new tube of toothpaste. You can’t help but smile when you pick up the rolled-up ball of white, fluffy bed socks.

And you hate to admit how your knees go weak when you realise he’s gifted you with his football jersey to sleep in for the night. There are shorts, too, but you doubt you’ll need them. You want to keep your dress on for as long as possible. You’ll just sleep in the jersey and your panties when you’re ready.

“Thank you.” you smile at him. You notice the tips of his ears and his nose turn a blush pink as he sees you holding up his jersey and modelling it against your body.

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, giving you the space you need to do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. You take the opportunity to freshen up, you pick up the dental hygiene products he’d thoughtfully left for you and head to the bathroom. You catch his figure slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind himself.

Your mind runs rampant now that you’re truly alone. Look where you are. You’re brushing your teeth and preparing to spend the night in Rensuke Kunigami’s house. Sorry, mansion. How the fuck did this happen? Your heart begins to race. Are you actually going to fuck him?

You can’t.

You can’t.

You can already feel your inner child cussing you out for letting him kiss you like he did, no matter how brief it was. It helps, slightly, to tell yourself you have a reason to spend the night. The weather. It would be dangerous to drive in weather like this.

But, Christ, you can feel your cunt throb with want as you think about him railing you in every room of the house.

“Stop.” you whisper to yourself.

You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink. And that is when an idea hits you. You splash your face with water and find some cleansing wipes in the cupboard underneath. You start getting ready for bed. Because that is what you should be doing. Sleeping, alone, until you can go home.

When you’re done clearing your face you decide to slip into the clothes Kunigami gave you to wear. Even the ill-fitting, downright hideous shorts.

You emerge from the room, and see Kunigami appear again with a wide smile.

“Hey—”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” you blurt out, awkwardly, and Rensuke stops in his tracks.

“Oh… really?”

“Yeah I’m… tired.” you lie, already turning back into your room. “Goodnight.” you call out, not bothering to look at him as you’re already shutting the door behind yourself.

“Goodnight.” he replies, the disappointment in his voice doesn’t go amiss.

You can’t.

You just can’t.

You can’t fucking sleep.

It’s closing in on midnight when you check the time, and you have a multitude of texts from Maisie blowing up your phone. You can’t bear to respond, though. Not after all of the horror stories you told her about Rensuke. The thought of her knowing that you’re spending the night at his house is just embarrassing. Even though it is innocent enough. You didn’t even kiss, really. You’re just sleeping until morning.

But you can’t sleep.

Your mind is racing with ideas of what could have happened if you didn’t say goodnight. What else could you have gotten up to if you hadn’t had your responsible brain hardwired in. You’re thankful for it, you are. But just because it’s responsible doesn’t mean it’s always right. Right? It’s been so long since you’ve gotten fucked.

Are you depriving yourself over something so trivial?

You throw off your duvet and prepare to leave the room. You’re not looking for him. In fact, you’re hoping he’s asleep, like you should be. But if he catches you roaming the halls, you’ll just tell him you were going to use the bathroom.

The corridors are cold. The chill in the air caresses your no longer covered thighs, you discarded the shorts barely any time after you said goodnight.

You aren’t sure where you’re going, you only have the flash from your phone to light the way. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind you turning the lights on, but you don’t want him to catch you if he is awake. And you don’t want the light creeping into his room to disturb him if he did actually manage to get to sleep.

When you find yourself in the same room as the swimming pool, you have no idea how you even got here. It’s like you were summoned. It’s a mermaid’s lagoon and you were drawn in by a sirens song.

You can’t remember the last time you swam. It’s not like the weather is ever nice enough for it, and you hate public pools. But this… it might even help you feel tired enough to sleep.

You look behind you and approach a set of loungers.

As you’re about to pull Kunigami’s jersey over your head, you screech. The sound of breaching water echoes through the room and you turn around, sharply, to see the source.

“Are you okay?” he bellows, his voice reverberating through the room. “Were you looking for me?”

“Jesus Christ,” you yell, laughing soon after. “I- I couldn’t sleep. You almost gave me a heart attack, I didn’t even know you were in here!” you tell him, truthfully, and he laughs. He swims under the water from one end of the pool to the other. You stand at the edge when he comes up for air again. “I just couldn’t sleep.” you confess, though it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Your voice is quiet and mousy so that your words won’t carry throughout the room.

“Me neither.” he tells you, looking up at you as he does. You notice his eyes stray, catching a glimpse of your panties under his jersey before he shamefully looks away. But he looks, again, as he admires you in his jersey. “Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, the sound of water pouring is boisterous as he raises his hand and pats the edge of the pool.

You look at it, his hand, and understand what he’s doing.

You can’t.

You can’t.

But you do. You crouch down, submerging your lower legs in the warm liquid while it ripples against the back of your thighs and ass. Your breath hitches when you feel his hand on your thighs and raking up the sides. He stands up, his forehead resting against yours as water cascades from his soaking body.

You can’t bring yourself to care when you feel it splash up against you.

The only thing on your mind is how close he is.

“Why can’t you sleep, baby?” he tells you in hushed tones. The weight of his words and the way he speaks them makes your body limp. But he’s there to keep you upright. He angles his head so that his eyes, those honey pot eyes, can focus on you. Your words die on your tongue as you try and formulate a lie.

One won’t come.

“Why did you say you were going to bed when you weren’t tired?” he whispers, again, and you feel your resolve begin to crumble. He’s like an archaeologist, meticulously brushing at an ancient relic that he has no business handling.

He should have left you be.

“I… I don’t know, Rensuke.” you lie. And it’s an awful lie. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he hears you struggle to think of anything better than that. He knows. You both know. That’s why you can’t object when he pulls you closer. His hands force your legs around his waist. How did you get here?

“You look good, princess,” he tells you, tugging gently as his jersey, looking down at the strip that drapes like silk over your cute tits and perfect frame. “Want you to have it…”

“But it’s yours.” you respond. You’re a little taken aback by how demure your voice is as you speak. It’s like you’re instinctively making yourself small for him. Your inner child is protecting you, still to this day. He shakes his head at your words, though.

“It’s yours, I’ve got plenty.” he assures you. He keeps a tight grip of your thighs as he begins to walk you further into the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck and will yourself to remain some semblance of control. But he smirks, his nose touching yours before he pulls away again. “You’re coming for a swim… do you want to take it off?” he wonders.

Your eyes widen in horror as you recall your decision to decision to forgo a bra, knowing it would ruin your outfit. You shake your head, defiantly.

You can’t.

You can’t.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you inform him. He chuckles, at that. In his mind, he knows. And deep down, you know it too. If you don’t find your willpower soon, your bare-naked form won’t be an issue. He closes his eyes and holds them shut, laughing when you repeat his name a few times in an attempt to get him to open them again.

“Take it off, ‘m not looking. You can hide under the water.”

Your movements are halted but for barely any time at all. He has a way of making you submit to anything he wants and you aren’t sure why that is. You were so mad at him hours ago. You didn’t even want to have dinner with him.

But look at you now.

Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist and you’re throwing his football jersey away. It doesn’t land on a lounger, but near enough. And you hold onto his shoulders as he begins to walk you both deeper and deeper into the pool. You don’t want him to feel you, not like that.

It’s getting out of hand.

You can’t stop it.

You can’t help it.

“You can open your eyes.” you tell him, and he stops walking. His eyes slowly open and it takes an incredible amount of restraint for his eyes to not wander beneath the water. And, you feign innocence. You aren’t sure what is wrong with you, because you know you shouldn’t have. But you look away, pretending something in the distance has piqued your interest.

You give him the opportunity to leer at you.

And he’s so thankful.

Even submerged and obscured by the greenish, dithering water, your body looks like an oil painting. To him, you’re a work of art and he’s grateful that you’re even letting him experience you in the slightest. But this… you’re a masterpiece, he thinks.

“Hey,” he speaks, he moves a hand from your thigh to your chin and you cling to him instinctively. He guides your line of sight back to him, looking back at you with a serious stare. “You don’t need to fight me, you know.”

Your heart practically stops at that. At the very least you think it skips a beat. But you hold his stare, eyes vibrating as you look between his as you search for an explanation. Are you truly so easy to read?

He sees you wrestling with your conscience. He doesn’t want to intervene, but what else can he do? He pulls you closer to him, a surprised whimper leaving you as you feel your bare chest come into contact with his.

It doesn’t register to him, though.

You don’t fight when his lips begin to trail your own. No pressure is applied, but you’re breathing is heavy. And he can’t deny that his is matching your own.

“I’m not seventeen anymore.” he reminds you, quietly. Your eyes weld shut and your self-preservation begins to scream at you. Imploring you to have some fucking common sense.

You can’t.

You can’t.

“I know…” you confess.

You look at him briefly, giving him silent permission to proceed. And he takes it. Without hesitation he takes it as his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss. You feel like you’re in a romance novel as it continues. It’s polite but not entirely tame. And for you, it’s been entirely too long since you last kissed anyone. You feel him smile into the kiss when he hears the softest little moan crawl out of your throat. But it fades, fast, when he remembers how lucky he is to be experiencing this.

He doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t.

And so, he takes it seriously. He brandishes the plumpness and texture of your lips to the forefront of his mind as you allow him to continue. He implants the way your body arches into his as his fingers trace up the curve of your spine, and how your mouth parts ever so slightly when he reaches the nape of your neck.

You’re perfect.

“Has it been a while? Since you had sex.” he asks, quietly, like it’s some sordid little secret. You feel embarrassed when you register what he’s asking. The insecurity creeps in and you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, though, pulling you closer and reaffirming his interest with another searing kiss. “You’re so responsive, baby, that’s all.” he tells you.

You kiss him again.

And you feel pathetic. Like a dog humping a stuffed animal as you begin to instinctively roll your hips against him as you beg for more.

“Feels like forever…” you confess, hiding your words into another kiss and hoping he’ll forget you even uttered them. You hear him grunt when you sensually slip your tongue between his lips. He reciprocates, licking at yours as he carries you to the edge of the pool again. “W-What about you?”

You regret asking. Of course, the answer won’t be the same for him. He’s gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact. He’s rich, famous, successful. You’re another in a long line of women who throw themselves at him when given the opportunity.

You certainly aren’t naïve enough to think otherwise.

“Since I had sex? Not too long ago.” he responds, and it’s effortless. You knew. You fucking knew and yet you’re still feeling hurt. And you feel ashamed of yourself in the same breath. It doesn’t matter, really, you know who came before you and who came before him are irrelevant to what’s happening right now in this moment. But still, the feeling of embarrassment lurks. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked anyone the way I want to fuck you, though.” he finishes.

And now, you’re ravenous.

Your lips find his again. And the politeness has died, drowned in the pool along with your morals and self-respect, you figure. Your fingers grab and pull at whatever they can find. One hand finds purchase on one of his biceps and digs and squeezes into the hard flesh. The other tugs and pulls at his hair residing just above his undercut.

And he moans when you yank his pretty orange tufts. He breaks the kiss, laughing, for a moment after he recognises what you just stole from the pits of his lungs.

You feel your ass come into contact with the edge of the pool as he sits you down in the middle of a kiss. He breaks it, sinking down further into the water until you’re looking down at him. Your heart rate quickens as you feel deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.

And you can’t control your body, moving on autopilot as you lean back and keep your legs together as he steals the black lace from your body. He has no regard for where they land, but you hear a faint splash as they float on the surface of the pool. You won’t see them again, you think. They’re soon to absorb the chlorinated water and sink to the tiles framing the pool.

You sit back upright but find yourself unable to meet his eyes again. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling as he gently pries your thighs apart one by one. He’s slow, and careful, as he parts them. Soaking in the sight of your intricate folds.

“Pretty everywhere, huh? So fuckin’ pretty…” he expresses. You feel his thumb drift along your inner thigh to your pubis. A soft, low chuckle escapes him as it comes into contact with your pubic hair. A perfect landing strip guiding his eyes to your scintillating cunt. “You did this for me.” he states. He doesn’t ask, he tells you. And your eyes snap back to look down at him, defensively splashing him with water.

“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” you remind him. “I wanted to be prepared in case I—”

“But it was me.” he interrupts, wrapping his arms around your thighs after wiping the excess water from his face. “You’re letting me see. So it’s all for me, princess.” he continues. You don’t have a response, despite his logic seeming broken at best. It’s for him, now. But had you known who would be walking into that restaurant…

His breath fans across your heat as he places his thumb at the top of your lips and pulls back the hood of your clit. You gasp, letting your head sink as you lean back on your hands and rest your weight on them. And he spits on it, sucking at it soon after.

“’h my God…” you start, moving a hand to his hair, threading your fingers through damp, orange strands as he continues to suckle at your clit.

You’ve lost the means to feel embarrassment anymore as he looks up at you with his head buried between your thighs. Though you can’t deny the hot flush you feel as he makes a holy show of flattening his tongue between your lips and licking upwards from your oozing hole to your still exposed clit.

But you lose him, again, as he decides to focus.

He didn’t think he could burrow any deeper between your legs until you feel his still hooked arm drag you closer to the pools edge. You tug at his hair again when he finds his rhythm, and he emits another grunt that vibrates throughout your sex.

You admire how his muscles flex as his grip around your thighs intensifies. He feels how your hips begin to buck, like you’re getting there. Like he’s helping you get there but you’re still trying to run from him.

You can’t.

Not anymore.

He looks up at you with golden retriever eyes as you begin to moan. It’s quiet, until it’s not. Quiet, secretive breaths begin to turn into sinful, saccharine moans that echo right back to you as they bounce from the walls.

His nose wiggles and nestles against the perfectly formed line of your pubic hair. It tickles, but he’s always had an affinity for landing strips. It’s nothing he can’t handle. And it’s something that drives him wild.

You clamp your legs around his head as you start to dance along the cliffs edge of your orgasm. But he parts them, easily, his veins bulge in his hands as he grips tightly into the doughy flesh of your thighs.

“Ren- Rensuke—!” you cry out, unable to even warn him before he’s already dragged you into toe-curling bliss. And he prolongs it, divinely, not altering his ministrations even as you begin to shudder and scream. “S’too much, Rensuke, f-fuck…” you pant, looking down at him as he finally begins to slow down.

“’m not done, though.” he warns you. He liberates your left thigh from his grasp, but his fingers lightly trail down your inner thigh and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of your sensitivity. You twitch and spasm from the lightest of touch.

Though the whine that rips through your vocal chords is just as delightful. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t even predict it when you felt two thick fingers seamlessly slot inside of your clenching entrance and curl up against your g-spot.

“Fuuuuuck, no, Rensuke, c-can’t.” you warn him, partially succumbing to light headedness as you feel him hone in and target your squishy slippery inner walls without remorse. You’re shivering. You’d like to think it’s just the exposure of wet skin to the stormy air, but it’s too much. You know it’s too much.

“You think too much,” he tells you, head sinking low again to continue feasting upon your gorgeously ruined flesh. Your pussy pulsates through the recent orgasm and the overstimulation. He’s going to be disappointed when he realises you can’t even fathom the idea of cumming again.

You just can’t.

Your body goes limp as he nudges a particularly delicate spot and presses down on your lower abdomen. The moan that leaves you at the feeling is downright pornographic. You can’t see, you can’t feel, but he’s smirking. He doesn’t relent, but his ego and his cock swell with pride as that salacious fucking moan plays on repeat in his brain.

The hand applying pressure ventures up north of your body. And your cunt clamps down on his fingers as his adventurous hand grabs the fat of your breasts and gropes your flesh. You moan, weakly, with no energy left in you as he tweaks at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

You’re pathetic, you think.

It was this easy for him to reduce you to this.

But you can’t help it. Your body is spent and you can feel another orgasm climbing through your nervous system. And yet, despite being wrecked, your body still finds the energy to clench and groan as you feel pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl, again, before they spread and widen and you try and gain some sort of control over what Rensuke is thrusting upon you.

Another scream is torn from you as you fall, no, you’re pushed from what seemed like a higher cliff than the first. Your back arches from the tile and further into Kunigami’s titillating touch.

“Rensuke, I- I…” you aren’t even sure what you want to say when you begin babbling. You manage to rest your weight on your hands again and look down at him. He showers your inner thighs with adoring kisses, they’re sweet and loving and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling in love.

He pulls his fingers out of your spasming walls and looks up at you. Your jaw is agape, slightly, as you feel him spit a perfect glob of saliva onto your clit without even looking. He needs to stop. You shake your head as you see the gears turn in his brain and you catch up almost instantly. You try to pull his wrist away but you’re weak.

“C-Can’t, Rensuke… no more!” you tell him, despite trying to sound firm, you just sound pathetic.

He can’t stop.

So he doesn’t.

He rubs the two fingers that were inside you just moments ago repeatedly over your throbbing clit. The smile sprawling across his face is that of a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He thinks he knows your body better than you do.

And, hell, he might.

You say you can’t.

But why are you moaning for him?

“Doin’ so good for me, princess.” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh again as he continues his assault. His eyes droop as he admires how tender and overstimmed your pussy is. You can keep going, though. He’s sure of it. “You moan really pretty when you cum… ‘n I can tell she likes attention.” he speaks, it’s gruff but somehow still soft. He doesn’t look at you right away after he speaks. Instead his eyes remain focused on your tremoring cunt.

“I’m— I c-aaaan’t. Anymore, no more, ‘mmm hmrmf…” you struggle to even make sense in your mind of what you were originally trying to say as the nonsense you actually spouted takes root in your brain. He laughs, shallowly, as you try to reason with him.

You can’t reason with him, though.

Not when he knows better and your cunt is betraying your weak will.

“Goin’ dumb for me ‘cause you feel too good, huh?” he chuckles, tilting his head as he tries to command your focus on him. The way every inch of your skin trembles with pleasure makes his cock leak like he could never imagine. He’s glad he’s in the water so you can’t see what a pathetic mess your pretty noises alone have him reduced to. Though he makes a mental note to get the pool cleaned tomorrow. “Don’t need to think when you’re cumming. Jus’ cum for me. Can tell she wants to… just let go, princess.”

“Haah, hn- hnnnnng—!” you finish with a cry, you can’t believe he’s managed to make you cum three times in such quick succession.

Even as an adult, Rensuke Kunigami has found a way to reduce you into a sobbing puddle.

He frees you, eventually, allowing your body to catch up to what has just happened. He finally lets you close your legs and allow your twitching quim to recover, alleviating the pressure between them.

He hoists himself out of the water, though. And he climbs effortlessly above you. And, really, you know he’s always been a big guy. It’s arguably his most defining trait. But fuck, like this, while you’re shivering and spent, he’s fucking massive.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks. The soft, caring voice contrasts completely with his all-consuming presence. He lowers his head to kiss between the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. But he stops short and looks at you again. “We can, if you want. But… I’m having fun with you.”

You should answer. He’s asking for consent, after all. Your lips part and reseal repeatedly as you try and decide on what to say. You’re having fun, too. But can you handle it? Can you handle more of this?

“You’re so… big.” you whisper, and you don’t know where that even came from. You giggle when you see him smile at your silly comment, and he immediately has a retort spring to mind.

“My cock matches, y’know. Why d’you think I made you cum so much?” he tells you. “Well… I like making pretty girls cum anyway, but you’ll thank me. If you wanna keep going, that is.”

“I want to fuck… want you to fuck me, ‘Suke.” you admit. He lifts your back away from the cold, damp tiles and pulls you into his embrace. You receive one final, show-stopping kiss from him as he pulls down his swim shorts. You keep your eyes on him, not having the confidence to look down below.

He grabs your chin, his thumb helping tilt your head and guiding you to look at his length. And, embarrassingly, you gasp. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and you look between him and the impressive size he possesses. It’s scary, honestly, looking at how thick and heavy his cock is and what it will feel like inside.

There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’ve never seen a dick like this and you surely won’t again. He’s big, thick. And long to boot. His tip is prominent but soft. Like you could suck it into your mouth and hear a pretty pop sound once it’s in. You could run your tongue along the ridge and make him hiss from the pleasure.

The thickness is akin to an energy drink can. Eight long inches threaten to invade your apparently well-prepared walls, but still, you aren’t so sure. His veins aren’t prominent, but they’re there. You see them running along his shaft in different directions. And then you do find one. One throbbing, prominent vein as you admire each and every inch of his heavenly member.

You’ve never had an affinity for balls. Seeing them as a nuisance that are just there rather than anything you have any interest in pleasuring. But for him. For those. You could be persuaded. They’re heavy, God they look heavy but every inch of him does. He’s a large, imposing man and his balls are no exception.

It turns you on to no discernible degree to think about how full and aching his balls must be after you’ve teased him all night. How they’ll tighten and release as he floods you with his cum when he’s through with you.

“Need you, Rensuke, n-now.” you tell him, unable to function without feeling him inside of you for a second longer.

A brief panic shoots through your veins as he pulls you back into the water like a siren. But he stops short of pulling you to your death.

At least, in the literal sense.

You might experience your fourth little death as soon as he sticks his tip in you.

The water sloshes around you as you’re pushed into the pool wall. Your legs sit comfortably on his hips as he guides his still leaking cockhead into your greedy cunt. You moan in tandem as you become accommodated with each other.

“You’re so cute, s’fucking tight, princess.” he tells you, silencing any response you might have had with an ardent kiss. You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. And it’s calculated, of course, as he pushes further and further into your sticky walls.

It wasn’t enough.

Three wasn’t enough.

The thickness of his length would have you screaming if he wasn’t keeping a firm grasp on the crown of your head so you couldn’t pull away to voice how the stinging stretch was affecting you.

He doesn’t let go until he’s in. Fully in. You feel him kiss your cheeks and now you can finally moan, pant, screech if you so choose. But as your breathing comes out in hiccupped sobs, you realise he isn’t kissing your cheeks.

He’s kissing away your tears.

“Took me so well, gorgeous.” he mutters against your skin, still continuing to softly peck his lips against your damp skin. “You’re so good… such a good girl, princess. I’m so proud of you, bein’ so good f’me tonight.”

It makes you cry more, though you aren’t sure why. You can barely think about what he was like back then. When he was cruel and callous for no viable reason. But you’d never have heard such sweet sounds from him like you’re hearing now. You’re a good girl, and it’s for him.

Your tongues tangle into a clumsy fervour as he starts to move his hips. The sound water lapping at your bodies is deafening. He lifts you up, slightly, so that he can pound himself into you without restriction.

Both of you find it hard to keep kissing romantically and consistently the harder and faster he batters his cock against your insides. Your lips touch but your mouths hang open. And he’s looking at you. Really fucking looking at you as he drinks in every facial contortion you make from the feeling of his cock bullying itself against your self-destruct button.

He loves the way you bite your lip when you’re close. How your eyes cross and you look so damn wet and pathetic as he brings you to ruin again. It’s a sight he’d have tattooed on the back of his eyelids if he could. He’s been around the world and still couldn’t name a more beautiful sight.

Maybe you could be a porn star, he thinks. If both of your careers fall through, he knows what a good fallback will be if you were so inclined. You’re perfect. Every inch of you, top to bottom, is perfect.

You can barely hold onto consciousness as you feel his heavy breeder balls slap relentlessly against your ass. But you hang on, you have to when he grabs the lower half of your face and pinches your cheeks until your lips pucker.

“Is my good girl about to cum?” he asks, and you nod, dumbly. “That’s it… stay with me. Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum again.” he orders.

You breath faster, fighting against the crushing urge to close your eyes and let go of your body completely. But you’ll do anything he asks, in this moment, so long as he keeps calling you a good girl.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks, thrusts increasing in pace as he jackhammers into you. He’s close, too, but he wants you to cum first. It’ll tip him over the edge if you cream him like this. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. “Or should I p-pull out?” he struggles, the thought of spraying your body with his seed appeals to him just as much.

“D-Don’t pull out, Rensuke, don’t you dare…” you command. “Hnf, ah, I’m! Haaah, aah, f-fuck—!” you finish.

“Shit, shit.” he follows you right after. It seems that he would have came inside whether you wanted him to or not. “Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Fuckin’ perfect pussy… take it.” he finishes, too, his pace only slowing by a fraction as his cock spurts rope after rope of pearlescent cum into your cunt.

The sound of water calms after some time. The waves lap around you, carefully, as you breathe and sweat after such a vigorous workout.

It surprises you, a little, as he kisses you after the fact. You thought he’d turn a little colder after he got what he wanted. But you underestimate him again, clearly, as he kisses you sweetly.

“That… amazing.” you tell him, not possessing the energy to fill the rest of the sentence. The start and end are enough for him to figure it out, though. And he cradles your body in his arms as he walks you both to the shallower end of the pool with the staircase. “’m so tired.”

“I know, baby.” he hushes you, you feel like a child in his hold. You’re so little in comparison and you’re still surprised he didn’t break you. He manages to effortlessly pick up his jersey and walk you towards the pool room door. “Gonna get you cleaned up, ‘n we can go straight to sleep.” he promises.

You can’t remember the last time you got such a good nights sleep. Really, you barely remember even falling asleep. You remember Rensuke washing your body and your hair in a warm bubble bath. But you don’t remember him putting you to bed.

Waking up in his arms was a nice feeling, though.

So nice you felt compelled to wake him up with a reward.

He stirred in his sleep as you began to kiss down his bare chest and further down his body. He’s a light sleeper, you came to realise, as he woke up with a cheeky smile on his face and asked what you were doing.

You took his cock between your lips and showed him just how thankful you were for his attentive treatment and aftercare from last night. And you may have wanted to give him a reason to remember you if he wanted to consider going on another date.

He got close.

Really close.

Until he pulled you away to sit on his cock.

“’m not wasting my cum in your mouth when I can cream this cunt again.” he smirks, helping you straddle his hips before lowering yourself down onto that perfect fucking dick again. And he watches you ride him, his jersey riding up slightly with each rise and fall of your hips.

“L-Love your cock, Rensuke, s’fucking big.” you moan like a slut with no remorse. You can’t act coy anymore. Not after last night.

“S’all yours, baby.” he tells you. His attention is stolen from observing your enjoyment when he hears a buzzing on the side table. He reaches for it, and you don’t even notice while your eyes are screwed shut.

And he realises it isn’t his phone.

It’s yours.

He moves slightly, so that he’s sitting upright, covering your mouth as he answers the call. Your blood runs cold as you feel the cold glass of your iPhone screen pressed against your cheek and your ear. Your eyes widened in horror as you look down at Rensuke for help.

“Hello?!” Maisie.

He uncovers your mouth, allowing you to speak. “H-Hey, Maisie.”

“I texted you so many times, where have you been? Did you get home alright? I was so worried!” she yells at you. You can tell she’s in her office pacing back and forth on the tiles as her heels click with each step. She’s pacing. She’s furious.

“S-Sorry! I was just, it was a weird night!” you try and answer simply without lying or giving too much away. But your heart quick starts again as Rensuke holds onto your hips. You're mouthing and no no no! Butit’s ignored as he nods sadistically. He holds tightly onto your hips until your flesh spills between his fingers. And he fucks. You whimper pathetically as you seal your lips in a bid to keep quiet. He really is a sadist, he looks like he’s going to cum to the sight of you desperately trying to maintain your composure.

“I cannot believe I set you up with your old bully, that is so my luck.” she laughs. “Did you just get a taxi home?”

“A-Ah! Uh, yeah I know, c-crazy.” you struggle. “S-Sort of. Eliza was in the area so she picked me up.” so much for not lying.

“Oh, really? That’s good.” she replies, though the click clacking of her heels comes to a stop. “Weird, though, considering I rang all of the girls to see if any of them had talked to you. None of them did.”

“T-That’s… weird.” you reply, eyes rolling back as you try and maintain a level head and think of a way to get off the call. “Um, I uh—”

“I’m at work, just looking through some of my client's details. I’ve got Rensuke’s address up on my screen right now.” she starts. Oh fuck. “You know what else is on my screen?”

“W-What?”

“Find my fucking friend you little slut! Oh my God!” she screams, though you can’t tell if she’s actually screaming or if it’s melded into laughter. “Did you fuck your bully? You whore!”

“I— It’s complicated, nngh!” your free hand flies to your mouth as you spasm through another mind-altering orgasm shatters through you. Rensuke keeps a firm hold of your hips as you tighten around his cock. You hold the phone as far away from your face as you possibly can, though it doesn’t matter. Not when Rensuke cums in you again with no regard to his volume.

“Oh… my God.” Maisie speaks, though you barely hear it. You bring the phone back to your ear and sigh. You already know you’re busted, there’s no point in hiding it now. “I thought I heard a mattress squeaking. Have you just fucked?!”

“Hmph… yeah. Sorry.”

“I’ll pick you up later if you need a lift, I want all the details you absolute slut.” she laughs, sitting down in her office chair as she actually starts to do some work. “How was the date though, was it good?” she asks, knowing she’ll have to go soon.

You look at Rensuke’s pink, sweaty face and wide smile. You melt into the way his thumbs stroke into your sides so tenderly. And you smile back at him, a newfound confidence you’ve never felt before.

“It was… fucking amazing.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 6)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Jungkook woke up around 9:30 am. The first thing he did was check his phone in case he had any notifications from Y/n, but had none. He was seriously getting worried about this lack of response. Had something happened with the person Y/n left with? If that was the case he would never be able to forgive himself. He knew he should have gone after her, he's so stupid. 

He got up, took a quick shower, got dressed, grabbed his keys and left, he couldn’t keep up with this uneasy feeling. Putting his helmet on, he drove to the coffee shop Y/n worked. He knew her shifts very well, and that was the only place he could find her. When he got there, he parked his bike, took a deep breath and got in looking everywhere for her but still no Y/n in sight. 

“Hey there moto boy. What can I get you?” Sana asked. Jungkook looked kinda confused. “I was actually looking for Y/n. Is she on her break?” Sana frowned and looked at him suspiciously. 

“You’re kidding right?” Sana exclamed. “You are always together and talk to each otherall the time when you aren’t. You can’t tell me you didn’t know she took some days off” 

The world fell at Jungkook's feet upon hearing that. Y/n took a few days off and didn't even answered to his texts or deign to call? what the fuck was going on. Jungkook nodded his head, said thank you and left, picking his phone up instantly to call Y/n. “The person you called is not available. Please try again later” 

Fuck. Me

------------ 

Y/n fell in love with that place as soon as she saw it. Everywhere she looked she she felt immense peace and everything seemed so quiet and cozy, everything to make the weight on her shoulders disappear. Upon entering the chalet, they were immediately greeted by a gentleman at the entrance who directed them to the reception.

After checking in and receive the keys, they picked up their luggage and followed the gentlemanto the elevator, who was showing them the way to their "apartment”. Y/n couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing. Walking in, she’s faced with a very nice living room, with wooden walls and gray furniture. It had shelves with books, among other really cute stuff decorating the place. All very neutral and very light, exactly what she needed. On the coffee table was champagne and a plate with strawberries and chocolate with a small note saying "we hope you enjoy your stay as much as we enjoy your presence. Thanks for choosing us. Have fun" 

From the living room they went to the bedroom to organize their things. When they walked in Y/n was even more astonished. From their bed they had a view of the outside. She always loved snow and being there was filling her heart with so much happiness she wished she could live there forever.

“Where did you find this place and how can you afford it for both of us?!” Y/n exclaimed. Lisa looked at her with a funny look “My dad owns it. A benefit of traveling so much and not seeing his family for so long, not everything can be bad. I used to come here for Christmast and New year. It's crazy during those days and you know me, I love crazy and those were my favourite moments here”

Y/n laughed. Only Lisa could say something like that. 

“So… You know how to ski right?” Lisa asked out of nowhere. “Oh hell no Lisa, no way, not right now, we just got here we should—” Y/n argued back but was soon interrupted by Lisa 

“There's a snow suit in the closet on the right. We have a lot to discover we won't wait until tomorrow. You rest during the night. Come on princess, time is money” Y/n huffed while getting her suit to start putting it on.  How could Lisa have so much energy was something she couldn't understand.

They both got dressed and head out of the chalet. Y/n was amazed by the view, everything was perfect. But it’s not an adventure if something doesn't go right for Y/n. Out of nowhere she lost sight of Lisa, making her panick. She had no idea where she was.

Y/n looked around trying to see her friend but couldn’t identify anyone who would look like her. She started walking around worried about straying too far from where Lisa last saw her. Y/n was so distracted that she didn't even notice anyone coming close to her, ending up colliding with that person, causing her to lose balance and fall. The other person quickly knelt down, stretching out his hand to help her until she heard “Y/n?” 

She looked up, took the stranger's hand and straightened her hair a little, trying to understand where she recognized that voice from, until the stranger took the protective mask off his eyes and saw him.

“Taehyung?”  

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @11thenightwemet11 @jk97bam @11thenightwemet11 @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv

[kentobb]

The Bet (Part Seven)

Characters: College! Sukuna x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: *Sigh* Pure Angst, Jealousy, Alcohol, Mentions of Drunk people?, Foul Language, Suggestive, Smut (Theres not but theres a suggestive part so…might as well categorized it like that), etc.

Author’s Note: I know I said that I will see you guys in a few days. But I was in my break in the airplane and wrote this piece of art. 🩷 Next chapter in a few days. But let me know what you think is going to happened next :)

Part 01

Days passed, and everything seemed to spiral further into despair for Sukuna. He had tried calling you countless times, but each attempt was met with the same automated message: "Sorry, the person you're calling is not available. Please leave a message after the beep."

"Hey, it's me again…please, call me back. Let’s talk.” Sukuna's voice broke as he left yet another voicemail, the pain evident in his words. But there was no response. His text messages, too, were left on "delivered," never receiving a reply.

He clutched the heart locket you had returned to him in such pain, now worn around his own neck, a constant reminder of the love he had lost. Each day without you felt like an eternity, and the absence of your presence in his life was a gaping void that consumed him.

What hurt the most was that you hadn’t been attending class for the past week. He looked for you everywhere—your usual seat in the lecture hall, the library corner where you loved to study—but you were nowhere to be found. The halls felt emptier without you, and summer break loomed just around the corner, only amplifying his sense of urgency and despair.

His brothers had tried their best to comfort him. They sat with him, talked to him, tried to distract him with jokes and stories. But it was useless. Sukuna's mind was consumed with thoughts of you, replaying every moment you had shared, every word he wished he could take back.

Yuuji walked into Sukuna's room one evening, finding him sitting on his bed, staring at his phone. "Hey, any luck?" Yuuji asked, though he already knew the answer.

Sukuna shook his head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "No. She’s not answering. I don't know what to do.”

Yuuji sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You just have to give her time, Sukuna. She needs to process everything.”

"But what if she never forgives me? What if I've lost her forever?" Sukuna's voice was barely a whisper, his fear palpable.

Choso joined them, leaning against the doorframe. "You haven't lost her yet. Just keep trying, keep showing her that you care. She'll come around."

Sukuna nodded, though his heart felt heavy. "I hope you're right."

Days turned into nights, each one blending into the next in a blur of unanswered calls and unspoken words. Sukuna spent his time going through the motions, attending practice, going to class, but his mind was always elsewhere. He found himself constantly touching the locket around his neck, seeking solace in its presence.

Summer break was only a weekend away, and the impending separation from the campus only added to his anxiety. He feared that the distance would only widen the gap between them, making it even harder to reach you.

One evening, as he sat alone in his room, Sukuna decided to leave one more message. "Hey, it's me. I just wanted to say I'm sorry again. I miss you so much. Please, call me back when you can. I love you."

He hung up, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence of his room echoing his loneliness.

His brothers found him there, a picture of heartbreak. They exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to help him. Yuuji sat beside him, while Choso leaned against the wall, both trying to offer their silent support.

"We're here for you, Sukuna," Yuuji said softly. "No matter what happens."

Sukuna nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "Thanks," he whispered, though he couldn't shake the overwhelming sadness that clung to him.

As the days crept closer to summer break, the weight of your absence grew heavier. Sukuna knew he had to find a way to make things right, but he felt lost, unsure of how to bridge the chasm that had formed between you.

He held onto the hope that you would eventually hear his messages, read his texts, and remember the love you had shared. Until then, he would keep trying, keep waiting, and keep believing that somehow, you could find the way back to each other.

One evening, just as he was about to send yet another unanswered message, there was a knock on his door. Sukuna hesitated, his heart pounding with a mix of hope and fear. When he opened the door, he found Gojo standing there, looking uncertain and hesitant.

"Sukuna," Gojo began, his voice wavering slightly. "Can I come in?”

For a moment, Sukuna stood still, his emotions swirling. He didn't know if he was mad at Gojo for telling Mei Mei, or if he was mad at the situation itself. But then he saw the genuine worry and regret in Gojo's eyes, and he managed a soft, weary smile. "Yeah, come in."

Gojo stepped inside, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a rare vulnerability. He sat down, fidgeting nervously. "Look, I just... I wanted to say I'm sorry. I messed up. I shouldn't have said anything to Mei Mei. I didn't think—"

Sukuna held up a hand, stopping him. "Don’t. It’s okay.”

Gojo's eyes widened in surprise. "You're not mad at me?"

Sukuna shook his head. "No, I'm not mad at you. I’m just... tired. Tired of everything. It was my fault too…”

Gojo's shoulders sagged with relief, but the guilt still lingered in his eyes. "I really am sorry, Sukuna. I never wanted to hurt you. You're my best friend."

Sukuna nodded, feeling a tightness in his chest. "I know, Gojo. I know. It's just been really hard."

There was a heavy silence between them, filled with unspoken words and shared pain. Finally, Gojo cleared his throat. "Look, I know this might not be the best time, but I think you need a break. Mahito's throwing a summer break party, and I think you should come."

Sukuna frowned, shaking his head. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't feel like partying."

Gojo leaned forward, his eyes pleading. "Just think about it, okay? You need a distraction, something to take your mind off things, even if it's just for a little while."

Sukuna sighed, running a hand through his hair. The thought of going to a party felt overwhelming, but he couldn't deny that he needed to escape his own thoughts, if only for a few hours. "I don't know, Gojo..."

"Please," Gojo insisted, his voice softening. "Just give it a try. You don't have to stay long. Just come and see if it helps. You can't keep torturing yourself like this."

Sukuna hesitated, but the look in Gojo's eyes, filled with genuine concern and friendship, swayed him. He nodded slowly. "Just for a little while."

A smile broke out on Gojo's face, a mix of relief and hope. "That's all I ask. Thanks, bro."

As they prepared to leave for the party, Sukuna felt a small flicker of something he hadn't felt in days—a glimmer of hope. He knew that it wouldn't solve everything, but maybe, just maybe, it would help him start to heal.

Sukuna arrived at Mahito’s party, the pulsating music and thrumming energy immediately overwhelming his senses. The house was packed with people, bodies dancing against each other, the air thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol. He made his way to one of the sofas where his teammates were lounging, drinking and laughing. Yuuji and Choso were already there, engaged in animated conversation.

Sukuna plopped down on the sofa, grabbing a drink from the table in front of him. As he took a sip, he noticed several of his teammates with their girlfriends, their laughter and affectionate touches reminding him painfully of what he had lost. He felt a pang of hurt, wishing you were there with him, remembering how it felt to have you by his side.

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, Sukuna found his gaze wandering toward the door. He watched idly as new arrivals trickled in, but then his heart nearly stopped when he saw who walked in.

First, there was a girl with fiery orange hair, wearing a stylish outfit that accentuated her bold personality—Nobara. She exuded confidence, her eyes scanning the room with an assertive gaze. Beside her was a tall, brooding figure with dark, messy hair—Megumi. His demeanor was quiet and reserved, yet there was a certain intensity in his eyes.

But it was the third person who made Sukuna’s breath catch in his throat. It was you.

His eyes widened, and his heart pounded in his chest. What are you doing here? This… this isn’t the place for you. Why would you be here?

You wore a stunning red dress that hugged your curves, the short hemline showing off your legs, and the neckline revealing just enough to make his mouth go dry. Your makeup was flawless, enhancing your natural beauty, and your hair was styled elegantly. You carried a small red purse, completing the look.

Sukuna could hardly believe his eyes. He had never seen you like this. You looked scared, nervous at your surroundings.

As you walked in, people turned to look at you, some even whistling appreciatively. Sukuna felt a surge of jealousy and protectiveness. He didn’t like the way others were looking at you, the way they seemed to undress you with their eyes.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, your attention focused on Nobara and Megumi as they led you toward the mini bar. Sukuna shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours.

Nobara, with her usual flair, seemed to be showing you the ropes, gesturing animatedly as she explained the different drinks. Sukuna’s mind raced. He knew you had never drunk alcohol in your life. This was all new to you, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were out of place, that you didn’t belong in this chaotic environment.

As he watched you, he felt a mix of emotions—jealousy, worry, longing. He wanted to protect you, to pull you away from the prying eyes and the potentially harmful influences. But he also knew he had no right to do so, not after what had happened.

Sukuna's eyes followed your every move, noting the way you hesitated before accepting a drink from Nobara, your expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He wanted to rush over, to tell you that you didn’t have to do this, but he stayed rooted to his seat, torn between his desire to see you and his fear of making things worse.

His teammates continued their banter, oblivious to his inner turmoil. Gojo, noticing his distracted state, leaned over and followed his gaze. “Isn’t that…?” Gojo trailed off, his eyes widening in realization.

“Yeah,” Sukuna replied, his voice tight. “It’s her.”

Gojo glanced back at Sukuna, his expression concerned. “What are you going to do?”

Sukuna didn’t answer immediately. He watched as you took a tentative sip of your drink, your face scrunching up at the unfamiliar taste. Nobara laughed, patting your on the back, while Megumi watched with an amused smirk.

Summoning his courage, Sukuna stood up and began to walk towards you. Nobara, sensing his approach, quickly stepped in front of you, blocking his path.

“She doesn’t want to speak to you,” Nobara said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his voice steady. “Who are you?”

Nobara glared at him, her stance protective. “She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Sukuna.”

Ignoring Nobara's words, Sukuna took another step closer, his determination unwavering. Just then, Megumi stepped in, his presence imposing. “You heard her. Back off,” Megumi said, trying to intimidate Sukuna.

Sukuna glanced at Megumi, a small, defiant smirk forming on his lips. “Nice hair, douchebag. Does it come with instructions?”

Megumi's eyes flashed with annoyance, but before he could retort, you spoke up, your voice cutting through the tension. “It’s okay.”

Nobara and Megumi exchanged worried glances, but reluctantly stepped aside, giving Sukuna the space to approach you. You looked at him, your eyes filled with a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and something else he couldn’t quite place.

Sukuna took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. “I know you don’t want to talk to me.”

You glanced back at Nobara and Megumi, who gave you encouraging nods before moving a little farther away, giving you some privacy while still keeping a watchful eye.

“Oh wow” you said finally, your voice steady but guarded. “Did you figure that by yourself?”

The tension between you was palpable, and Sukuna struggled to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't believe you were here, dressed so beautifully, yet so different from the girl he had known. It was as if you had transformed overnight, and it hurt to see you this way—so distant and angry.

"Why are you here?" Sukuna asked, his voice edged with frustration. "This isn’t your scene."

You met his gaze defiantly, your eyes flashing with determination. "Isn’t that obvious? I came here to have fun.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. "To have fun? This isn't like you. You don’t need to change yourself to fit in here."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You don’t know me. You’re just some dude who got into my pants for what? A hundred bucks? Turns out I don’t know you either.”

As you turned to walk away, Sukuna instinctively reached out and grabbed your hand, trying to hold you back. "You do know me. And I know you. And I know that this… isn’t you.”

You yanked your arm away, your eyes cold and unyielding. “Fuck you, Sukuna.”

He looked at you angrily, his grip tightening for a moment before he let you go. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Go ahead and have your fun."

“Oh I will, just watch closely.” You turned your back on him, joining Nobara and Megumi, who had been watching the exchange with wary eyes. The party around you started to intensify, the music growing louder, the crowd more energetic. A popular song blasted through the speakers, and everyone began to dance.

Sukuna stood back, watching as you moved to the rhythm with Nobara. He saw you taking shot after shot, your laughter ringing out as you lost yourself in the moment. It was clear you were trying to drown out the pain, but it only made Sukuna more anxious. He didn’t touch a drop of alcohol, too focused on keeping an eye on you.

His anger simmered as he watched you, feeling helpless. This wasn’t you, he thought. This wasn’t the girl he fell in love with. You were trying to become someone else, someone he knew you wasn’t.

The party continued, and a group of boys from the soccer team entered, their presence adding to the already chaotic atmosphere. Among them was Ino, the team captain. Sukuna recognized him immediately—Ino was known for his charm and confidence, a guy who could have any girl he wanted.

Ino’s eyes landed on you, and Sukuna saw him asking around about you. His jaw clenched as he overheard bits of their conversation.

"Who’s she?" Ino asked one of his teammates, nodding in your direction. "I’ve never seen her before."

"Not sure," the teammate replied. "But damn, she’s hot. Definitely new."

Sukuna’s grip tightened on his drink, the plastic cup crumpling in his hand. He wanted to march over there, to tell Ino to back off, but he knew it would only make things worse.

Ino watched you make your way to the bar, probably asking for more shots for yourself and Nobara. His interest piqued, he took his own shot, quickly following you. Meanwhile, Sukuna stood at a distance, trying to control the storm of jealousy and anger brewing inside him. He kept his eyes fixed on you and Ino, his fists clenched tightly.

As Ino reached the bar, he slid up next to you with a charming smile. "Hey there," he said smoothly. "I don't think I've seen you around before. What's your name?"

You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and alcohol. "This is my first party," you replied with a giggle.

Ino raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Your first party, huh? Well, you’re definitely making an impression."

You laughed, leaning in a bit closer. “Well, I hope so.” You said, your thoughts filled with alcohol.

Ino grinned, enjoying the attention. "Well, you’ve got the right idea. I’m Ino, by the way."

You smiled, eyes darting to where Sukuna stood, watching him intently. You saw the anger simmering in his gaze, and a mischievous glint appeared in your eyes. You wanted to provoke him, to make him react. You leaned in closer to Ino, whispering something in his ear that made him blush.

Sukuna saw this and felt his control slipping. He couldn't just stand there and watch you flirt with some guy. His jealousy and anger reached a boiling point, and he marched over to the bar, his eyes locked on you.

"Hey, what do you think you’re doing?" Sukuna demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Ino turned to face him, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just having a conversation. Is that a problem, bro?"

You looked at Sukuna, your expression challenging. "We're just talking, Sukuna. Or do you have a problem with that?"

Sukuna’s jaw tightened. "Yeah, I do have a problem. I don't like seeing my girl flirt with some random guy."

Ino raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. "Whoa, whoa. I didn’t know she was your girl. She didn’t mention anything about having a boyfriend."

You crossed your arms, leaning against the bar. "That's because I don’t. We’re not together anymore, remember? I would bet a hundred bucks that you do remember that.”

Sukuna took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “We may not be together right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stand by and watch this."

Ino chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "Looks like you’ve got some competition, Sukuna. Maybe you should step up your game."

Sukuna’s eyes flashed with anger. "Back off, Ino. This isn’t a game."

Ino shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Whatever you say, man. But from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s having a good time without you, am I right princess?”

Sukuna's anger boiled over as he squared off with Ino. "Back off now, or I swear, I'll punch you," Sukuna threatened, his voice low and menacing.

Ino smirked, clearly unfazed. "You think you can intimidate me? Bring it on, man."

Their argument escalated, voices rising above the din of the party. You rolled your eyes at their macho display and decided to walk away, leaving the two boys to their petty fight. You made your way back to Nobara, who was already at the bar, affected by the alcohol as well.

Sukuna saw you leave, realizing what you successfully did, his anger boiling, he quickly turned away from Ino. Who cursed under his breath as Sukuna left him talking to himself, feeling the sting of being ignored.

At the bar, you started taking shots one after another, trying to drown your feelings in alcohol. The music thumped through your body, the lights blurring together as you downed another shot. Your head felt light, limbs heavy, and your vision wavered. You felt a strange mixture of euphoria and disorientation, the world spinning around you in a dizzying dance.

Everything felt distant, like you were floating. You laughed more freely, but there was a desperation to it, a need to escape the pain that lingered in your heart. You leaned on the bar for support, your mind foggy and your thoughts jumbled. You didn’t realize just how drunk you were, caught up in the haze of alcohol.

Sukuna watched you from across the room, his concern growing with every shot you took. He knew you were pushing yourself too far, and he couldn't stand by any longer. He made his way over to you, his heart pounding with worry.

"It's time to leave," Sukuna said firmly, his grip on your arm gentle but unyielding.

You tried to pull away from his grip, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. "No, I’m having fun. Let me go.”

Sukuna tightened his grip slightly, ensuring you couldn’t slip away. "You're drunk. You need to go home."

You stumbled, your balance unsteady. "I’m fine, let me go!" You slurred, your eyes struggling to focus on him.

Sukuna looked around for help and spotted Choso nearby. "Choso! I need your help," he called out.

Choso quickly made his way over, his concern evident. "What’s up?"

"Help me get Nobara. She’s drunk too," Sukuna said, nodding toward Nobara, who was barely standing.

Choso nodded and went to help Nobara, who leaned heavily on him, giggling uncontrollably. Sukuna kept a firm hold on you, guiding you carefully through the crowd. He searched for Yuuji, needing his help to manage the situation, but Yuuji was nowhere to be found.

Sukuna and Choso managed to get you and Nobara to his car. He gently placed you in the passenger seat, where you immediately fell asleep, head lolling against the window. Choso helped Nobara into the backseat, where she too quickly succumbed to sleep.

"Where the hell is Yuuji?" Sukuna muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

"Let’s look for him quickly," Choso suggested, scanning the crowd.

They headed back into the party, looking for any sign of Yuuji. Sukuna opened one of the doors, and his eyes widened at the sight of Yuuji and Megumi making out passionately. Neither of them noticed Sukuna, too wrapped up in each other.

Sukuna backed out quietly, closing the door behind him. He returned to Choso, shaking his head. "I couldn’t find him," he lied, unwilling to expose his brother's private moment.

Choso sighed. "Alright, let’s get them back to the dorm. I’ll text Yuuji and let him know."

They returned to the car, and Choso pulled out his phone, quickly typing a message to Yuuji: "We’re heading back to the dorm. Everyone’s safe. See you later."

Sukuna started the car and began the drive back to the dorms, the weight of the night pressing heavily on him. He glanced at your sleeping form beside him, his heart aching with regret and worry. He hoped that once you sobered up, you could talk properly, and he could begin to mend the rift between you.

Choso stayed silent during the ride, sensing Sukuna’s turmoil. The streets were quiet, the night air cool and soothing. When they finally reached the dorms, Sukuna parked and carefully carried you inside of his dorm, with Choso doing the same for Nobara.

Choso gently laid Nobara down on the sofa, tucking a blanket around her to keep her warm. He glanced over at Sukuna, who was carefully carrying you to his bed. Sukuna placed you down gently, pulling the blanket over you and brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Choso looked back at Nobara, shaking his head slightly. “Yuuji still isn’t answering,” he said, a hint of worry in his voice.

Sukuna smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “He was kind of busy,” he said teasingly.

Choso frowned in confusion but then shrugged it off, too tired to ask for clarification. He put a glass of water and some ibuprofen on the coffee table for Nobara for when she woke up. “She’s going to need this in the morning,” he muttered.

Sukuna nodded, grateful for his brother’s thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Choso.”

With a sigh, Sukuna made his way back to his room, pausing at the doorway. He saw you sitting up in his bed, looking around the room with bleary eyes. You were clearly still drunk, your movements unsteady.

“Go back to sleep,” Sukuna said softly, his voice filled with concern.

You didn’t listen, your gaze finally landing on him. “Kuna,” you whispered, using the nickname you had given him. The sound of it melted his heart, bringing back a flood of memories.

You stood up, wobbling slightly, and walked toward him. Despite your drunken state, he could see the pain in your eyes, the hurt you were trying to drown out with alcohol. You reached him and began pushing him angrily, your fists hitting his chest.

Sukuna stood still, letting you vent your anger. He didn’t move an inch, your punches not having any effect, but knowing you needed to get it out. You were stronger than you looked, but not enough to physically hurt him. But he deserved anything you threw at him.

“You hurt me,” you cried, your voice breaking. “You broke my heart.” You punched again, “You used me!”

“I know,” he whispered, his own eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

You continued to hit him, your punches growing weaker as you started to sob. Sukuna finally reached out, pulling you into a tight embrace. You struggled at first, but then collapsed against him, your sobs shaking your small frame.

“I’m so sorry,” Sukuna repeated, holding you close. “I never meant to hurt you.”

You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. Your eyes were filled with so much pain, it broke his heart all over again. And then, without warning, you kissed him. Your lips were desperate and passionate, and Sukuna couldn’t help but kiss you back.

For a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, locked in a kiss that was both familiar and new. But then he felt your hands toying with the belt of his pants, and he knew what you were trying to do. He gently grabbed your wrists, stopping you.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling back slightly and feeling the alcohol on your lips. “You’re drunk. You’re not conscious.”

You began to cry again, burying your face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” he said, his voice choked with emotion.

He guided you back to the bed, laying you down gently. You clung to him, your tears soaking his shirt. Sukuna climbed in beside you, pulling you close. He began to caress your hair, his touch soothing.

“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just sleep.”

You rested your head on his chest, your breathing slowly evening out as you drifted off to sleep in your drunken state. Sukuna continued to stroke your hair, his heart aching. He had missed this—holding you, comforting you, being close to you.

As you slept, Sukuna thought about everything that had happened. The bet, the breakup, the pain he had caused you. He knew he had a long road ahead if he wanted to earn your trust back, but he was determined to do it. He loves you, and he would do whatever it took to make things right.

But he just hopes that when you wake up tomorrow, you still miss him.

Comments, notes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter six:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: nsfw (masturbation (f. receiving), praise kink, fingering, dacryphilia, overstimulation, softdom quinn).

➴ word count: 4.6k

💌 from me to you: i’m sorry if this is terrible. wrote a line and then took a 30 minute break every time but hey! i’m trying my best!!! also thank u soooo much for 300+ followers i love all of u so much i hope u can feel the forehead kiss i’m giving u rn 😚 enjoy!

౨ৎ

2024, APRIL.

THE ARENA was packed with people, most of them wearing the Canucks jersey.

It was game night, and Quinn made sure you and Victoria had tickets, with the view you had asked for— perfectly near the Canucks players.

“Brock looks amazing,” Victoria whispered in your ear, and you giggled. “No, like, seriously.”

You wanted to tell her that you weren’t looking at anyone but Quinn. He was standing there, wearing his jersey and throwing the puck around while skating with Miller by his side. He looked stressed, but you knew that he always got anxious before a game.

You debated a lot about coming or not, even if Quinn had been the one to invite you and even if you weren’t exactly known for telling him no. But lately, every time he texted or called, you felt your hands getting sweaty, your heart beating faster and your stomach filling itself up with butterflies.

Everything that you swore you would never let happen again.

“Do you think they’ll win?” Victoria asks you, shoving a handful of popcorn inside her mouth.

“They’re on a winning streak so maybe?” You shrug. “I’m terrible with sports.”

“Ain’t that right,” she laughs. “The only thing that makes hockey interesting are the hot players.”

“And the fights,” you add, munching on your Snickers bar. “I love when they take off their gloves and start punching each other.”

“To me that also categorizes as a hot thing.”

“Fair point.” You nod.

The game went by in a blink of an eye, which surprised you. You thought that because you weren’t really interested in hockey, it would suck to sit there for two hours and watch men skating around, throwing a puck here and there. But by the end of it, you were sweaty and tired from all the screams you let out whenever someone from the other team got in the Canucks way.

You and Victoria got out of your seats, chatting about the game and how happy you both were because the Canucks had won 4-2. Quinn had scored two goals and you were ready to engulf him in a bear hug.

“I think they’re changing but we can wait at the VIP section,” Victoria suggests, walking you through the place like she owned, which was one of the things you loved the most about her; her confidence. “I hope they have snacks and hot dogs.”

“It’s a VIP room, baby, not a restaurant,” you laugh, secretly hoping for the same.

“Either way, I hope there’s food there, I’m starving.”

“We just ate a bowl of popcorn, chocolate and a family sized bag of Ruffles.” You point out, patting your belly over your shirt. “Plus the Coke.”

“It was diet, so it doesn’t really count,” she taps her temple with her index finger. You laugh, doing the same. “Girl math.”

The VIP section was, in fact, full of food. And drinks. And players' wives, girlfriends, families and friends. You felt like a fish out of water but sucked it up either way, texting Quinn and telling him you were waiting for him.

It took a while for him to get there, thirty minutes to be precise, but you knew that the games’ after hours weren’t exactly a chocolate covered strawberry, and with Quinn being the captain, he had to answer dumb questions and talk to interviewers.

But then, Garland opened the door and started yelling about the winners being in the area, which made you laugh.

“Hey, there, cutie,” he smiled at you, wrapping his hands around your shoulders. “Missed that pretty face. Did you see me out there? Nailed it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile awkwardly. “Congratulations?”

“Boo, you didn’t even try to sound excited.” He childishly pouts, poking your cheeks.

“That’s because you’re not exciting, C,” Quinn’s raspy voice fills the air, and it’s almost palpable how all the attention in the room immediately goes to him. “Get your hands off her, come on.”

“Aye, aye Cap.” He kisses your cheek before leaving you alone, dragging Victoria with him.

You don’t even think about helping her because all you can see is Quinn standing in front of you, wearing a burgundy suit with his wet hair falling down his face. He looks so fucking good.

Cocking your head, you smile sweetly at him. “Hi, Cap,”

“Hey there, Mads,” he leans down, kissing your cheek lightly.

You think for a second before standing on the tip of your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his hand find your waist instantly, like a magnet.

“Congrats on the win,” you whisper, not really wanting to let go. “You played really well.”

“Yeah?” He whispers back, pushing you away just so he could see your face. He smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you sigh, letting him go. Looking around the room, you notice that some people were staring at the two of you, and you blush. Right, you remind yourself, we’re not alone. “Hum. Wanna go eat something?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” he shrugs, looking around. “At home, though.”

“You’re inviting me over?” You chuckle, running your fingers through your hair.

“I am, yes.” He nods.

The little Madisons inside your brain start running around, pushing the danger button again and again while yelling “abort mission!” to each other, but you’re still human, and weak in the flesh.

“We can pick Bella up, if you want,” he offers, putting his hands inside his pockets.

“There’s no need to, she’s at my neighbor’s house,” you tell him. “She befriended Buttercup, Mrs. Fernandez cat, and now she asks me to let Bella stay there whenever I have to come home late.”

“Smart girl, isn’t she?” He checks the time on his watch, and makes a tsc noise with his mouth. “If we go now we’ll still catch my favorite pizza place open.”

“Greasy pizza for dinner? Isn’t that all models’ dream?” You joke, watching as he laughs softly.

“Quinn,” someone calls him, making him frown.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he sprints to the other side of the room, talking with another man wearing a suit.

You could see Victoria in the other side of the room between Garland and Boeser, looking like she was having the time of her life. She looked like the ice cream part of an ice cream sandwich, the thought making you cover your mouth with your hand to hide your laugh.

Quinn really didn’t take long, walking back to you and placing his hand on your lower back, like he always does.

The drive to his place was long and tiring, but you managed to make it faster with your remarks about the game. And Quinn listened to you, replying only when you were laughing so hard you couldn’t continue speaking.

Quinn’s house was still the same as the last time you’d been there, which felt like a lifetime ago. The three bedroom house was still only furnished with basic furniture, no pictures besides one with his family from when he got drafted.

“Can I shower while you order the food? I think I’m disgusting.”

“Not really. You still smell like a vanilla sundae to me, but sure.” He answers mindlessly while he taps on his phone, probably dialing the pizzaria’s number.

You shower in the same bathroom you showered the last time you’d been there and when you leave, you find Quinn’s clothes on the bed, also like last time. You smile, putting on his weirdly oversized shirt and boxers, leaving the shorts exactly where they were because you knew that they wouldn’t fit you anyway— and the shirt covered Quinn’s new boxers just fine.

You walked back to the living room, finding Quinn standing in the middle of it, with the TV on, watching the game from just hours ago.

“You played well,” you start, sitting on his couch with your legs crossed.

“Thank you,” he smiles, pointing at the unopened red wine bottle sitting on his coffee table. “Thought we should celebrate.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course we should!” You jump out of the couch, headed to his kitchen cabinets looking for wine glasses. “Uh. I just remembered I don’t know where your things are.”

You open the cabinet either way, mentalizing that it shouldn’t be so hard finding two glasses of wine. Only to hear Quinn’s low chuckle, and his body behind yours— his right hand holding you down by your waist and the other one reaching for the glasses inside the cabinet on your left.

“I like to keep them out of my own reach,” he jokes, but you don’t even think about laughing.

Not when his crotch is perfectly aligned with your ass, his hand hot and steady on your waist, his hard chest brushing your back. It’d been brief, only enough time for him to reach the glasses and pick them up, but it’d been enough for you to feel all over the place again.

“Maddie?” He calls you, and you realize you have been standing there for a few seconds now.

“Oh, right,” you smile awkwardly and walk back towards the living room.

While Quinn poured both of you wine, you contemplated what you should do.

Well, fuck my childhood best friend isn’t a thing I should do, you remind your stupid brain, who sometimes liked to conjure images of what fucking Quinn Hughes would look like for you.

The risk of fucking everything up was high and the risk of falling in love with him was even higher. Quinn wasn’t a hard person to love, and with the way he treated you? The way he was ready to hand you anything on a silver plate? It would be like breathing underwater. Impossible.

Thankfully, your mood didn’t take too long to recover, and after an entire bottle of wine and three slices of pizza, you were back at it.

“The worst thing is,” you started, helping Quinn tidy the kitchen and putting away the dirty dishes. “One of the girls sitting next to us was extremely obsessed with you. I swear, she spent the entire two hours shouting your name even when you weren’t there.” You laugh, remember how Victoria threatened to smash her head against the glass.

“I get that a lot and I already told you, I don’t get the appeal,” he shrugs, placing the remaining pizza slices inside a container and tossing it inside his fridge. “Plus, I’m not interested in puck bunnies. They’re not really my thing.”

You gasp, making Quinn stop what he was doing to stare at you. “Does Quinn Hughes have a type?”

“That’s not what I—”

“You do!” You gently place the wine glasses inside of the dishwasher, closing it afterwards. “What is it?”

He laughs, closing the fridge door. “Madison, I don’t have a type.”

“Of course you do. So that’s why you’re one of the few hockey players I know that rarely makes it to dating gossip websites.”

“You’re being insane.”

You shush him with your hand.

“Let me think,” you tap your chin with your index finger, really putting your brain to work. “Okay. Maybe you’re like Jack who’s into musically inclined blondes?”

“No?” He raises his eyebrow. “And since when does Jack—”

“Okay, then maybe you’re like Luke and like frat girls?”

“That doesn’t even sound legal. I’m twenty five.”

“You’re twenty four, we’re not in October yet,” you remind him, trying to think of other types of girls. “What about redheads—”

He gently places his hands on each side of the counter, locking you in place. He cocks his head. “Why is it so important for you to know who I’m into or who I’m not?”

“I just think it’s funny,” you bite your tongue, contemplating what you were about to say. But fuck it, right? You could blame it all on the alcohol later, even if you weren’t even tipsy. “Perhaps fifteen year old me would like to know if she’d have a chance with you.”

He frowns. “Fifteen year old Madison? Not a fucking chance. You were a child.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you roll your eyes. “If you don’t think I’m pretty just say that.”

He rolls his eyes again, mimicking your action.

“I didn’t say that,” he clicks his tongue, blue eyes looking down at you, moving around your face. “Ask me what I think about twenty-two year old Madison.”

You gulp, tilting your head back and staring at him in the eye.

Danger, mayday, Madison, get the hell out of there.

“What,” you whisper, licking your lips mindlessly. “What do you think of twenty-two year old Madison?”

“I think you’re perfect,” he whispers back, stepping closer to you, forcing your head to tilt back again so you could maintain eye contact. “I still think you’re the sweetest person to ever walk on Earth, and I’m going insane over the fact that you’re this close to me and I can’t fucking move a finger.”

His statement shocks you, making your eyes double in size. “Quinn—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Ever since you got back here, ever since I saw you again after fucking seven years,” he steps away from you, running his fingers through his hair in a frustrated move. “You’re— God, you’re everything and you don’t even realize it.”

“I— Well,” you stutter, not even sure of what you could say. Hey, funny story, I want you to kiss me, like, right now.

“You wear my shirt like you’re proud to, you kiss my cheek every time we say goodbye to each other, you drive me absolutely crazy because I know you don’t care about yourself enough,” he calls you out, and you look somewhere else, embarrassed. “But the worst part is watching other guys lick the floor you walk on and not being able to do anything. The even worse part is looking at your lips whenever you wear those glittery lipstick things and not being allowed to kiss the hell out of you.”

“Quinn,” you breathe, leaving the kitchen like you couldn’t stand there anymore, pacing around his living room back and forth. “You shouldn’t be telling me this. We cannot—”

“We cannot what?” He walks towards you, only stopping when you’re toe to toe with each other. “Tell me you don’t want this, Maddie, and I’ll stop. I’ll pretend I never said anything and we’ll just be friends. But fuck,”

“We can’t do this,” you shake your head. “We’re friends. We cannot ruin everything just because we want to fuck each other.”

He smirks. “I never said anything about fucking.”

You feel your cheeks getting warm, and you bite your lips, hiding a smile.

“This is a bad idea. You know that, right?” You whisper, placing your hands on his chest. “Like, a really bad idea.”

“We’re both grown and it seems that we both know what we want,” he mumbles back, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear and holding your chin up. “Do you want this, Maddie?”

Realistically speaking, you’ve been wanting this ever since you realized you could like Quinn as something more than just your best friend. You’ve been wanting this ever since you realized that no one would ever treat you as good as Quinn did. You’ve been wanting this ever since you saw him again for the first time in seven years, looking gorgeous and extremely, dangerously hot.

You do want this, more than you’ve ever wanted anything else. But things could get complicated and… losing Quinn wasn’t something you were interested in doing.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whisper, watching as his chest goes up and down beneath your palms. “I can’t lose you. If this goes wrong, then, then—”

“Madison,” he kisses your forehead, interrupting you. “Do you want this?”

“More than anything,” you confess. It was true, and even if you lied, Quinn knew you like the back of his hand.

Or at least he used to.

You weren’t prepared for how his lips would feel against yours. Or how he’d place his hands on your lower back. Or how his kiss would feel urgent and needy, making you whimper inside his mouth. Quinn kissed you like he was hungry for something only you could give him, making your knees weak and your breath quicken, the fabric of his shirt feeling soft under your touch.

You ran your hands through his hair, moaning with pleasure because you had finally gotten what you wanted. And just like your predictions, his hair felt soft, with you gently running your hands through his scalp.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air and resting your forehead against his.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you mumble, inhaling his sandalwood scent. “We’re friends, Quinn.”

“I know. And I still want you just the same,” he grips on your waist, hard. You were sure that it would leave a mark on your skin and just the thought of it made you go crazy. “And there’s no going back now, baby.”

The pet name slipped past his lips, the lips you’d kissed so bruisingly just a few seconds ago, making you whimper involuntarily. The wetness between your thighs was just a tiny hint of how much you actually wanted him.

“Let me help you out, hm?” He kisses your lips again, his stubble scratching your face lightly, making you remember where you were, what you were doing and with whom. “Let me make you feel good, Maddie.”

“Please,” You plead, trying to even your own voice. You sounded needy and helpless, but you had too many things going on inside your head at the same time for you to actually start acting like yourself again.

He only hums in response, showering your face with kisses while he guides you to his huge, brown couch. He sits down first, opening his legs and looking up at you, his lustful eyes never leaving yours.

“If you want me to stop, Maddie, just tell me, and I will,” seriously, he reminds you, kissing the tip of your finger. “I don’t care how much I’m enjoying what we’re doing, if you want me to stop, you say so.”

“M’kay,” you whisper, nodding with your head.

He mimics your action and moves on with his hands, removing your— his— boxers, slowly pulling them down, until they meet the floor with a soft thud. Then he helps you remove your legs from the holes, the right first and then the left, his big, warm hands on your thighs making you feel wetter.

He pats the spot between his legs, silently asking you to sit there, with your back against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder.

He gives you goosebumps as he slowly trails a path down your neck with his lips, making a wet sound whenever his mouth touches your burning skin. His hands keep going up and down your thighs, slowly lifting your— again, his— shirt to expose half of your belly and your most intimate part for him.

“Place your heels on the edge of the couch, pretty.”

You couldn’t help but feel your face burn with embarrassment as you did what he said, sliding your feet apart until your legs were spread wide apart. Sex had always been something boring to you and you preferred to do anything else other than let a guy fuck you.

But with Quinn things were already so different. You felt close to him, not only because you were literally on his arms, sitting between his legs, no. Truth be told, Quinn already owned your heart, and getting him to touch you like this was heavenly, but also extremely embarrassing.

You moan as his right index finger runs up and down through your slit, barely touching your clit.

“You’re so wet, baby,” his whispers, voice filled with desire, making you shiver inside his arms. “Who got you so worked up?”

“You,” you breathe. “You did, Quinn.”

“Mhm, that’s right, aren’t you just so sweet, baby?” He chuckles, inserting one finger inside your pussy, making you involuntarily try to close your legs, only to have his left hand holding them apart. “Do you think you’re sweet all over?”

“Quinn.”

He thrusts his finger inside you, finding your spot almost immediately, the wet sound of sex helping the blush on your face grow. Then, after teasing you for a while, he removes himself from you, bringing his index to his mouth, licking the wetness away.

Your face was burning, you wanted to run away and never come back, and it was even worse when you caught the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

“You are,” he whispers, tightening the hold on your thigh and inserting his finger in your hole again, only to take it out after a while. “See it for yourself.”

You were going to die. That was it. Here lies Madison Carter, the girl who thought she could handle Quinn Hughes.

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” he instructs, his raspy tone reaching your ears and making your stomach warm. You slowly part your lips, wrapping them around Quinn’s finger, tasting yourself for the first time in your life. And maybe it was just the power of his words inside your mind, or maybe you were too horny to think correctly but if you closed your eyes and searched inside of your taste buds for a minute, you’d actually see that— it was, indeed, sweet. “Good job, baby.”

You whimper around his finger. Quinn slips two fingers inside your pussy, with little to no resistance with how wet you were. His fingers start up a quick finger fucking that echoes wetly in the living room, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cheeks wet with tears you didn’t even know you’d shed.

He’s fast, his palm touching your swollen, needy clit every time he thrusted his fingers into your hole, making you moan loudly, not even caring about the late hours. Your left hand grabs Quinn’s left arm, probably hurting him with how strongly you were holding him but you didn’t care—

You had always been easily overwhelmed and with how much Quinn had teased you, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Quinn, I— fuck,” your words get interrupted when you feel a third finger trying to get past your tight entrance, a loud moan coming out of your mouth when it succeeds. The stretch making your pussy hurt so freaking good, tears decorating your face like paintings in museums.

Quinn curls his fingers inside of you, making you slightly lift your hips, surprised with how much pleasure he could give you with just three fingers.

“I’m close, oh my god, Quinn, I’m—” overwhelmed with thoughts of QuinnQuinnQuinn, you sit back on the couch, once again trying to close your legs, and, once again, being unsuccessful.

“You can take it, baby, come on, give me what I want.” He shamelessly opens your legs more, thumb sliding left to right on your clit, making you gasp and whimper incoherent words, babbling nonsense that not even the smartest people in the world could comprehend.

When you came, it was like all of your worries went away, the weight in your shoulder ten, a thousand times lighter. You were crying and you probably looked like a mess, but thinking that Quinn’s responsible for getting you like this only makes you happier.

He didn’t stop fingering you, though, overstimulating your clit until the very last minute; until he had you crying loudly and screaming in his arms.

“Sh, baby, you can take it,” he kisses your wet cheek, slowly stopping his fingers. “Tell me, baby, you can take it.”

You hiccup, trying to hide yourself inside his arms.

“Say it, sweets, and I’ll let you go.”

“I— I can take it.” You whisper, voice hoarse and tired.

“Good girl,” he removes his fingers from your pussy, promptly sliding them inside your mouth, again. You didn’t need instructions this time, you just did what you knew he wanted you to, licking his fingers clean until there was nothing but your saliva on them. “You’re perfect.”

He tilts your head to the side, kissing your lips and brushing his tongue against his.

“How are you feeling, love?” He asks after he breaks the kiss, calmly covering you with your shirt again, wiping your tears away with his left hand.

Love.

“Like I’m made of cotton candy,” you smile tiredly, resting your head against his shoulder. You can feel his body moving as he softly laughs, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you closer. “Wanna stay here forever.”

“Sleep here tonight,” he offers, and kisses your cheek again. “I have tomorrow off.”

“Well, I don’t,” you chuckle, remembering that you had to be up early in the morning. “Besides, I have my daughter waiting for me at home.”

He laughs, nodding. “Fair point. Then let me take you home?”

“Yeah,” you agree, only to snuggle closer to his body. “Let’s go.”

You end up napping for about thirty minutes before he wakes you up and hands you another change of clothes, helping you change before he wraps his jacket around you and places a Canucks beanie on your head.

“You can never be warm enough.” He says before opening the door, letting you leave first.

On your way home, inside the warmth of his car, you thought about what this would mean to your friendship. Friends with benefits sounded childish, icky, and not something you were looking forward to. And you weren’t lying to Conor when you told him that you weren’t looking for someone.

Even if that someone was Quinn.

“I can hear you thinking.” He jokes, making you giggle.

“I’m sorry, I just— how do we act now?” You finally say, turning your head to the side and watching his side profile.

“You told Conor you aren’t looking for anyone right now.”

“I did.”

“Well,” he starts. “I’m not saying this because I want you to make a decision or anything like that. But,” he sighs. “I’m not the type of guy who will make arrangements to fuck you during the weekends and move on with my life on the week days.”

You frown. “I don't want that…”

He chuckles. “I know you don’t, baby.”

“But I don’t want a relationship now either. I don’t think I’m… ready.”

This wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have inside a moving car, but oh well. It was too late now. Besides that, you trusted Quinn and you wanted things to be as clear as water between the two of you.

“We don’t have to date,” he adds before parking in front of your building, turning the car off. “What I meant is that I don’t share. If you think we’re better off as friends, then I’ll respect that.”

You blink slowly, tired.

“I don’t… I mean, I wasn’t lying when I told you you ruined the dating experience for me,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers, smelling his cologne on the jacket you were wearing. “I’ve only had two boyfriends before you. And honestly, I’m not interested in sharing either.”

“We can take it slow then, sweet girl,” he kisses your forehead, poking your cheek after. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You wanted to tell him that you had been the one waiting all these years, even if unconsciously. But you had already embarrassed yourself enough for the week, so you just gave him the tiniest, shyest peck on his lips and smiled, leaving the car after wishing him a good night.

Later, while you cuddled Bella and talked with her about your day— leaving the naughty parts aside, of course—, you let yourself dream about what a relationship with Quinn would mean.

Even if you knew that if he really got to know you’d become, he would get tired of you in a second.

“One day at a time, right, baby?” You kissed Bella’s head, letting your exhaustion win.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

[wildestdreamsblog]

The Story of Us: Unedited

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You wake up in the body of the second female lead in a manhwa, determined to rewrite your fate. No longer willing to be trapped in unrequited love for the elusive main lead, Min Yoongi, you set out to change the ending of the story. But leaving him behind isn’t as simple as you thought. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, the narrative begins to shift in unexpected ways—Yoongi, who was once only devoted to the main female lead, starts to see you in a new light. Can you escape the cycle of heartbreak, or will you find yourself entangled in a love story you never asked for?

or in which Yoongi found out you aren't from that world and refuses to let you leave.

A/N: This is an unedited very very very raw draft! But I wanted to share this with you before I forget the ideas and before my flight today <33 let me know what you think! ALSO I WILL EDIT THIS WHEN I GET BACK NEXT WEEK AND I WILL POST IT IN TUMBLR. okay bye ily

It was your second week in Paris when curiosity finally got the better of you. Her phone—your phone now—sat untouched on the marble nightstand of your hotel suite. You’d avoided it so far, reasoning that it felt like rifling through a stranger’s diary. But tonight, as the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower illuminated the room, you gave in.

Plugging it in, the device vibrated to life, and a flood of notifications lit up the screen. Your jaw dropped slightly as you skimmed through the endless stream of missed calls and messages. Most of them were from Yoongi.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through the list. There were texts, voicemails, and even some emails from him, all timestamped over the last two weeks.

His messages started casual enough, asking you where you were and if you were still avoiding him. He even stopped by the mansion only to find out that you weren’t there, let alone in the country. Not one in your mansion could tell him where you were despite his endless threats. As days passed by, however, his tone shifted to frustration.

I’m not kidding anymore. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to find you.

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

I do hope you remember that it is my birthday today. We always celebrate it together. We’re not gonna stop now just because you’re hiding from me.

You stared at the phone for a moment longer, the screen dark now but somehow still demanding your attention. Should you respond? What would you even say?

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with his name. Your stomach did a little flip, but you shook your head firmly. No. You weren’t going to answer. It was better this way—for him, for you, for the storyline. Yoongi belonged with the female lead, and the longer you stayed out of their orbit, the better.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket, ready to explore the city some more. Paris was too beautiful to waste time fretting over a fictional man’s messages. Let Yoongi wait.

But just as you opened your hotel room, there he was with his signature stoic face, his dark brow raised. He pointedly looked at your phone, his name on the screen. He had his phone on his ear, while you had yours in your hand. You were literally caught red-handed ignoring his calls.

He ended the call with a deliberate tap and tucked his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked at his sudden appearance. He was supposed to be with her. The story said that he was supposed to be with her, celebrating with her, saving her from any other accidents or situations she found herself in.

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” His tone was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. He stepped inside as though he owned the place. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t wait for an invitation. He was just… there, filling the room with his presence like he always did. “And Paris, of all places? You’re more predictable than you think, princess.”

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

Full story (unedited) in KoFi

[verinarin]

Romcon Fluff | Ratio accidentally drinks your Love Serum ?!? | Tried to make this into a oneshot but I think it needs 2 more chapters, wdyt shall I continue?

Ruan Mei You accidentally made Veritas fell in love with you and he dislikes this festering feeling you have brought to him

support me on ko-fi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Ruan Mei is one of your closest friends, yet you rarely meet her since most of the time she’s off somewhere pursuing her lifelong pursuit of divinity, yet she never missed gifting you presents for your birthday.

You smile as you carefully untie the silk ribbon on your present, you can’t help but guess whatever is inside is a bottle of perfume because you could already inhale the sweet scent before even opening the intricate wooden box

Once you lift the lid it reveals a beautifully carved glass vial filled with a lavender-coloured liquid, you carefully examine the shimmering liquid in awe, it smells so sweet like a cherry blossom cake, you notice a light blue envelope inside the box

You carefully place the vial back to read open the envelope, there’s a beautifully written letter addressed to you, her sincerest friend

“Dearest friend of mine, Happy belated birthday. Now I have prepared this gift of mine long before your birthday but since I’m currently in the middle of nowhere I have deduced that It’ll reach your doorstep approximately 2 days late and for that, I apologise,” you smile as you read her letter, ah she’s still the same

Upon reading the 3-page long heartfelt letter Ruan Mei reveals that she has been making this rejuvenating serum for you since earlier this year, she said she used your DNA and modified it so for your birthday she gave you an enchantment serum of some sort

She said to pour it into a hot beverage and not too much since it’s a highly concentrated serum, so you decided to brew a cup of tea while you text her thank you. Okay so a little bit goes a long way, you slowly pour the serum into the tea when all of a sudden the bell into your apartment rings, it shakes you and accidentally makes you pour a lot more than you intended to

You quickly flip the vial and close its lid, you silently curse as you put the vial back and rush towards the door, you open the door with a pout on your face, now when you see the person behind it makes you more annoyed than before, Veritas Ratio in the flesh

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts and even my calls ?, your lack of response is going to cost us both substantial damage,” ah yes your assigned partner for the annual Intelligentsia Guild research showcase, where you and the narcissistic prick in front of you are assigned together by the committee

“Damage ?, I was just enjoying my birthday. Our research is not going to somehow dissipate into thin air if I enjoy some time for myself,” you groan, you want to slam your door into that handsome prick’s face, but you can’t because he’ll sue you

He scoffs while looking down on you, without any hesitation he slides into your apartment, at this point you want to just pounce over him, but thankfully you’re in a good mood because your tea is waiting for you-

That entitled motherfucker—

When you turn your body you see him blissfully sipping on your tea, like he’s entitled to it, “Hmm this tea is exquisite, the colour is stunning too where did you get this from ?” he asks as he swirls the cup, your cup

“Veritas Ratio that was my birthday present ?!!” you yell as you storm towards him, you try to pry his hands away from your tea but sadly he’s way taller than you, “Well then I need you to tell the person that gifted you this tea to tell me where they acquire such complex tea blend,”

You’re fuming, you swear that there’s smoke coming off your head like some sort of chimney, he notices this and weirdly he thinks you’re cute, he can’t believe that his heart just skipped a beat when you pout at him, what an unusual feeling

“Stop pouting, you’re making my heart palpitate faster than usual,” Veritas groans which surprised you, what the hell was he saying ?

“What the hell are you implying ?!”  you scan his face, somehow this man who is well known to be rude and disrespectful is blushing profusely, what the hell happened here ?!

“You !, can you stop looking that beautiful basking underneath the sunlight it bothers me, I hate it,” he can’t believe he just said that out loud, what the hell is happening with him

“H-huh ?!?, what the fuck is wrong with you Veritas, I rather have you yell at me for fucking up some calculations than whatever this is,” you shriek feeling slightly disgusted and oddly flattered ?!?

“Well do you think I have the slightest idea what made my mind suddenly throw out my rationale out of the window and replace it with you instead ?!,” okay this is starting to freak you out because this feels too real, way too real is this a dream, please be a dream

You start to lightly slap your face to snap yourself out of this horrific nightmare, “This is no dream, I suggest you start to be responsible over this,” he leans forward and reaches out to your hand, he presses it towards his beating heart, he’s serious about how fast it was palpitating-

“W-what do you mean responsible ?!?, for what h-huh ?,” you try to pull your hand away but to no avail, it’s like he glued it down on his firm chest

“For these festering feelings that I don’t enjoy having nor experiencing, it must’ve been the tea I drank because before this I was quite normal when it comes to staring at that captivating face of yours. No, I mean that horrid face of yours that someone enchanted when illuminated by the sun,” Oh nous, it can’t be that tea can it ?

Oh !, Ruan Mei what the hell did you gift ?. Veritas could see your face reduce to a state of emotionless, “Don’t ignore me fool !,” he mutters as he now guides your hand to rest his head against your palm

“S-stop acting weird,” you stutter on your words, your confidence has been drained and now you’re left with red-tinted cheeks, how frustrating

“Can’t help it, I just want you to notice my presence,” he mumbles against your palm, slightly kissing it while talking, Oh my nous, Ruan Mei needs to fix whatever this is or at this rate, he can’t perform his task as your research partner

“Okay okay I need to somehow make an antidote for you,” you take a deep breath trying to think of something, but how can you when he’s there watching you with those puppy eyes

“Please do because, to be frank, I’m extremely uncomfortable with the way I just want to kiss that pink lips of—“ before he can continue you slap his mouth shut with your palm

“Shut up !!, don’t utter any more nonsense, just get out of here and don’t come back until I find a way to fix whatever this is,” you quickly push him towards the door, he’s adamant about staying by making things harder for you

“Can’t I just wait here and assist you? I might miss you if you kick me out, I mean no of course I wouldn’t miss your brilliant mind what am I saying of course I’ll miss you,” this man needs to be stopped, you can’t handle the contradictions that he’s spewing

“What do I need to do for you to get out !,” you huff as you wipe away your sweat, this man weighs like those sculptures he makes

“A kiss on the lips should suffice,” he smirks, why did he smirk?!?, never mind that you can’t deal with this nonsense anymore, you quickly drag him by the collar and press your lips together within a second you pull away from the kiss leaving him happily dumbfounded, you took this chance to hurriedly push him out the door and lock it

What the hell just happened ?!?

[dyaz-stories]

you know my tongue is a weapon || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Shoko suggests a study night, but Gojo's bored and he doesn't want to study. So, instead, he offers to play a game, when all the others have left to get some food: every time he gets an answer right, he gets a kiss.

As you soon find out, Gojo can be very good at studying, as long as he gets something out of it.

word count: 3.8k

genre: college!AU, mostly fluff i think

cw: kissing, making out, semi-public kissing, unresolved sexual tension, reader is insecure and is therefore an unreliable narrator, dry humping ig, fem reader (the word girl is used once)

a/n: first time writing for jujutsu and for gojo! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy yourselves :)

soundtrack

prequel

Exam season is never a fun time to be on campus. Stress fills the air, the hallways, the always full libraries, even the coffee shops where people usually meet to relax between two classes. It’s the only conversation subject between sleep-deprived students, looming over their head threateningly at any time of the day and night. It’s stifling, a weight on their chest that never quite wears off.

As for you, well, you’re doing alright.

Oh, for sure, it’s a lot of work, and you’re not thrilled about it by any stretch of the imagination, but academia is your thing, so you don’t find it nearly as crushing as others do. You’re more terrified of the time period that comes afterwards, while you’re waiting for the results like Judgement day.

In the meantime, you’ve given up on trying to find a spot to study in the library, and you’ve been doing most of it in your small student room. You haven’t stepped outside in days when Shoko texts you to suggest a study night. You suspect that she hasn’t started working and intends to cram, but you take her up on the offer nonetheless.

You show up at her place right on time — you always are — with your notes and some snacks. You wait quietly after knocking, trying to make sense of the chatter you hear on the other side of the door. She had mentioned she would ask a few other people if they wanted to join, which you had assumed would be fine, but faced with the reality of it now you can feel a lump growing in your throat. Academia might be easy for you, but people… aren’t.

When the door opens to reveal Gojo Satoru, piercing blue eyes meeting yours through white locks of hair that he pushes out of his face a second later, you fully consider turning around and leaving.

“You made it,” he says, shooting you a wide grin.

“Hi,” you squeak in reply.

Gojo is a… friend. Ish. Kinda. You think. Well, he’s a friend of Shoko’s, anyway, so the two of you have hung out, socially, before. Up until last summer, you assumed he didn’t even know your name.

“Thank God you’re here,” Shoko says, appearing from behind him to grab your hand. “No one here wants to work. We need to whip these imbeciles into shape or something.”

“I’m working,” Nanami sighs from the table in the living room, where he’s sitting alone.

“I was just waiting for everyone to be here, Shoko,” Geto says, his voice soft and even, as he approaches the table.

You set your bag down, giving Nanami an sympathetic smile, and he pushes his glasses higher on his nose. When he nods at you, you’re pretty sure it’s a silent way of saying ‘thank you for not leaving me alone with them’.

“What are you guys starting with?” you ask, pulling some books out of your bag.

Everyone here has different majors, but with some classes in common. You’re not sure how efficient this enterprise is going to be, if you’re completely honest, but as Gojo lets himself fall on a chair with a dramatic sigh, you suppose it can’t be worse than if he was left to his own devices.

“I’m doing literature, algebra and physics tonight!” Haibara announces, perhaps a tad too enthusiastic. You don’t want to crush his hopes and dreams, but—

“You’re never going to get through all that in one night,” Nanami says with a frown.

“Don’t listen to him”, Gojo intervenes, “you can do anything you set your mind to.”

There are stars in Haibara’s eyes when he looks at him, but you notice the glances Gojo is stealing at Nanami, and the way his smile widens when Nanami grits his teeth in annoyance. You bite your lip so you don’t let out a chuckle.

“Do you want to start with literature with me?” you offer. “Nanami, you’ll have to handle algebra because I’m not taking any algebra classes this semester.”

The corner of Nanami’s lips curves to form a smile.

“It’s good that someone here is taking this seriously.”

“Ugh,” Gojo mutters. “Fine. Hey, Suguru, do you know what tests I have next week?”

Nanami buries his head in his hands with a pained groan, and you laugh again, lump gone from your throat now, as you move your chair to come sit next to Haibara. Gojo’s eyes follow your movement silently. When you lean over the same textbook as Haibara, shoulders brushing against his as you push a lock of hair behind your ear, his expression turns thoughtful. It’s only when Geto drops a book in front of him that he snaps out of it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do shots instead?” he asks, tone sour.

“Man, don’t tempt me,” Shoko whines as she sits down as well. “The shots will have to wait.”

Truly, Gojo thinks, sadder words have never been spoken.

Nanami calls it quits right before 10 pm. He’s tried to leave a few times by then, usually because of one of Gojo’s quips, but Shoko’s managed to keep him around until then. It doesn’t help how delighted Gojo gets by his reactions, and you can’t blame him for abandoning you. You don’t doubt for a second that he would have been much more productive without everyone else around.

“If they pass their exams, we should give ourselves all the credit for that,” he comments at your intention, right before walking out the door. “Good luck with them.”

Then he’s gone, before Gojo can start to protest about why he is not getting any encouragements, even though he’s suffering so much, and everyone is mean, and nothing about this is fun, and—

Haibara, despite his best intentions, falls asleep on the couch less than thirty minutes later. It was just supposed to be quick nap, but by midnight he’s still down, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up. Plus it’s not like you were making a lot of progress with him anyway, so he just might be better off sleeping.

It’s not long after that that Shoko starts to get real antsy. So far, she has kept on track despite Gojo’s attempts at distracting her, but you can tell she is starting to get incredibly bored. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to be Gojo’s case, even if the way his leg bounces underneath his chair tells you he’s itching to do anything other than sit here doing nothing.

“Fuck it,” Shoko says, finally giving up. “I’m going to get something to eat.”

Geto frowns.

“Now? Alone?”

“As if anything would happen to her,” Gojo says, spinning a pen between his fingers. “She’ll be the scariest person out there.”

Geto rolls his eyes.

“I’ll come with you,” he tells Shoko, and she shrugs. “Do you want to come too, Satoru?”

Gojo lets himself fall down on his chair, looking at Geto with his head hanging behind the back of the chair.

“Nah,” he says after a few seconds of intense deliberation. “Can’t abandon the teacher here.”

You feel your face heating up.

“Oh, I mean, I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you want to go, you should—”

“It’s fine,” he handwaves your protests away. “I’ll finally get some work done without Shoko here to constantly distract me with—”

He bursts out laughing when Shoko throws her pen at him.

“We’ll be right back,” she announces, standing up. “You,” she points at Gojo, “play nice. And you,” she gives you a severe look, “don’t hesitate to hit him. I’m not joking.”

She leaves the room, escorted by Geto. Haibara doesn’t even stir when the door slams.

“Alright,” Gojo says, not wasting a second to reach for your chair so he can pull you closer to him, “it’s my turn to get my own personal tutor.” His fingers brush against your leg as he pulls you in, and you know, from how his eyes seem to drink in everything about you, that he doesn’t miss your quiet gasp nor the way your breath quickens. You’ve noticed this before, too. If he likes annoying Nanami, he seems to delight in your reactions at least as much — though he tries to make you laugh or to fluster you rather than piss you off.

“Um,” you say, with the eloquence that characterizes you around him, “what do you need help with?”

He tilts his head to the side as he studies you. You find him breathtaking, you always do, but you think you’ve gotten better at hiding it, so even if it feels like he’s looking right into your soul, you give him an easy smile.

Somehow, he is the one who ends up averting his eyes.

“How about philosophy?”

Right, the two of you share that one class on the history of ideas.

“Sure,” you say, already grabbing a book and thumbing through it. “I’ve taken quite a few notes for that class, actually, I can give them to you if you—”

“That’s boring,” he interrupts you. “We should do something else.”

You put down your book, intrigued, and something twists in your stomach when you see the look he’s giving you. He’s like a cat with a mouse, with exactly the same hunger in his eyes.

“What—” you clear your throat when your voice cracks. “What are you suggesting?”

“Well,” he leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and putting his chin in his palm, “I need an incentive to work, you know?”

You swallow. Sure.

“So how ‘bout I get a kiss for every right answer I give you?”

And you almost choke on air.

“What?” you manage to croak. Blood is rushing to your face, and it feels like your brain is short-circuiting. Your heart’s beating faster, hammering in your chest, and you feel your palms grow sweaty.

“C’mon,” he teases, reaching out to pull on a lock of your hair and twirl it around his finger, and you know, you know, he knows he’s got you right where he wants to, “help me study.”

“Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he all but purrs.

“Satoru,” you say, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” he blinks innocently. “Just trying to find a fun way to study.”

You examine him carefully, try to figure out what, exactly, is going on behind these beautiful eyes of his. You’ve had— moments, with him. He fell asleep on your shoulder in the car once. He held your hand through a busy festival, teasing you about not wanting you to get lost, and later helped you get on his shoulders so you’d get a better view of the stage. The one time you agreed to accompany Shoko to the club, you remember his hands on your hips, his breath against your ear, the ghost of his lips to your neck. But nothing actually happened between the two of you. You’d told yourself that it was all a distraction for him, that he didn’t want more.

This isn’t exactly confirmation. You don’t doubt that it’s all in good fun still, and knowing you, and how hard you tend to fall, you should walk away while you have the chance.

But you really, really want to kiss him. Want to know what it would feel like to taste his lips, to have his body pressed against yours, to feel his hands all over you.

You always take the smart decision. This is not the smart decision. But…

“What if you get it wrong?” you ask.

Satoru blinks.

“You can, uh, spray me with a water bottle?”

You let out a brief laugh.

“Isn’t that a dog thing? That feels unethical, Satoru.”

He preens at your use of his name.

“You should take your chance,” he drawls. “Shoko says it’s really cathartic.”

You’re not sure you need catharsis, but you feel a little lighter now. It’s all a joke to him, clearly, and from what you’ve seen in the past couple of hours, he hasn’t seriously studied once. He’s not going to get the answers right. You don’t think he’s even trying to.

“Fine,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, reaching out for a water bottle and positioning your chair so you’re facing him. “Who came up with the notion of civil disobed—"

“Thoreau, 1848, but the essay was republished with that name in 1866.”

You stare. Gojo gives you a lazy smile.

“Now where’s my kiss?”

“Um,” you say. You feel incredibly awkward now. He’s leaning back against his chair, with eyes that have not left you once since he’s suggested that idea. You— have to move, now, don’t you?

Very slowly, very hesitantly, you push yourself to your feet. Satoru doesn’t move at all, and you don’t know if it relieves you or stresses you out even more. The position is quite uncomfortable, too, with you standing and him sitting down. You don’t know that you’ve ever towered over him like that. Gingerly, you put a hand on his shoulder, and then you’re leaning over him, and then you’re kissing him, and then you’re moving away as fast as you can. This was just a peck, really, a press of your lips to his that lasted a second, tops, and that you’re already trying to forget about.

You’re not a teenager anymore, and you know this shouldn’t be getting to you that much, but it’s— it’s Satoru Gojo. You’ve worked very, very hard not to think of him like that, because you didn’t want to let yourself get hurt. And now, you’ve let yourself be dragged into this so easily? Ugh. You wish you could slap yourself.

“Okay,” you say, voice more high-pitched than you’d like, but still understandable, which you’re grateful for. “Next, um, can you explain what philosopher kings are?”

Surely—

“Of course,” Satoru pretty much sing-songs. “Plato thought that cities should be ruled by trained philosophers, because only a philosopher would know and act for the good of a city.” There’s a brief pause, before he adds, “Aristotle thought that was bullshit, though. For the record.”

And then he waits. You narrow your eyes at him.

“When did you study for that?”

“I never study,” he answers lightly.

Instead of standing up this time, you scoot your chair closer to him, and you lean forward. Satoru chuckles, but humors you — even if the temptation of leaning further back to make you come to him, because you’re just adorable when you’re flustered, is great. This time, when you kiss him, though, he presses forward before you can move away, his nose brushing against your cheek as he chases after you. And oh, what a sight you are after that, wide eyed, lips parted, hands tightening on your notes.

“Next?” he asks.

“Right,” you say. You’re— not sure what’s happening here, to be quite honest. Should you stop this? You— don’t think you want to, but you’re also not sure what this charade is all about. “Um. Spinoza thought that free will—”

“—could only be reached through knowledge, and that most people never obtained it.”

Okay.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a physics major?”

He raises an eyebrow, looking genuinely amused.

“Determinism’s a pretty big deal in science, actually, but let’s not change the subject here.”

You bite your lower lip, and his eyes track the movement like he’s starving for you.

You’re feeling hot all over, anticipation burning inside of you, and this time, you can’t pretend that he hasn’t done this on purpose. That he wanted to kiss you. You can’t quite reconcile the way you see yourself with that thought — how could Gojo Satoru want you, of all people? — but you find that it doesn’t matter.

You lean towards him once more, and this time, you let yourself kiss him. Really kiss him. You press your lips to his, soft at first, but when you don’t move away immediately, you feel him pressing against you, one hand coming to cup your cheek. His teeth pull at your bottom lip, and you let out a involuntary gasp. He doesn’t waste the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, and you keep inching closer to him, hands coming to his shoulders for support. You can feel yourself melt into him, and you curse your common sense when it leads you to break away from the kiss.

It doesn’t deter Satoru, though, because as you do, his hand slides under your knee, and next thing you know, he’s pulled you into his lap. His face is deliciously flushed, pink hue under the pale skin. He looks up at you, long fingers tightening around your thighs.

“We should waste less time like that,” he says.

Shoko likes to say he’s insufferable, and you can see why. Everything all seems to come so easy to him, and you’re defenseless against the way your heart races. When his eyes are on you, it feels like you’re the only person in the world. You’re not usually the type to indulge in that idea, but, ah, what’s the harm, as long as you know how to come back to earth later on?

You shake your head as you take him in.

“How are you even doing that?” you ask, mildly peeved.

“Haven’t you heard?” he grins widely. “I’m a genius.”

You roll your eyes at him. You’ve heard about that, of course, about how he maintains stellar grades without breaking a sweat. You just hadn’t seen that in application until now. In class, he’s usually asleep, or taking great joy in bothering the teacher. You’ve never seen him try to get something.

“Well, where’s my question?”

You sigh, putting your arms around his neck. You left your notes on the table, meaning that you might be less prepared than he is, actually.

“Descartes famously said—”

“Cogito ergo sum. C’mon, rational doubt is at the heart of science. I’m starting to think you’re just trying to kiss me.”

You do want to kiss him, but you have the self-control to shrug.

“Well, if you don’t want to—”

His mouth is on yours before you can think of how to end that sentence. He kisses you hungrily, hands gripping your hips as he tries to pulls you closer to him. Your chest presses into his, and you tighten your hold around him, fingers running through his hair. He grunts when you pull on it slightly, tilts his head back a little more to give you better access to his mouth, and when his tongue brushes against yours once more, you can’t help but to rock your hips against his. The friction makes you gasp into his mouth, and one of your hands falls down to his shoulder, fisting his shirt as you try to find better support.

“Fuck,“ you hear him mumble underneath you, right as you feel him grow hard. He pushes up against you. His fingers dig into your skin, one hand slipping under your shirt to run over your skin, leaving a trail of fire behind. It moves higher, brushing against your bra.

Against your better judgement, your hands travel down his body, tracing over his muscles. You feel him twitch under you, and when you roll your hips once more, with much more intent than the first time, he groans.

“Satoru,” you whisper, though even you don’t know if it’s a plea for him to stop or to keep going.

His eyes widen, and you feel him lift you up easily, pushing you onto the table. You lean back slightly, resting your weight on one hand. He’s red all over now, from his ears to his neck. His pupils are wide, his lips swollen, his hair messy. He looks like sin.

You don’t want to think about what you look like.

“C’mon,” he says. “Last question.”

“Haibara’s in the living room,” you point out. Even you know where this is leading.

“He’s dead asleep,” he merely shrugs. He’s mesmerizing, but you note that the glimmer of amusement that always dances in his eyes. This feels— serious.

“Um,” you say, licking your lips and watching how he bites his as his grip on your waist tightens once more — like he’s holding himself back. “Confucius—”

And then, the front door opens.

Gojo clicks his tongue and reluctantly steps back as you jump down from the table, beelining for the bathroom — you know that kiss is written all over your face.

You glare at yourself in the mirror. Your body’s still tingling, and you’re aching with want, now that release has been denied to you, but you know better. You’re supposed to know better. You take a few seconds to comb through your hair with your hands, and when it no longer looks like someone’s, well, kissed you senseless, you cautiously step back outside.

“We got you some fuel,” Shoko announces loudly, before getting shushes by Geto. He points in Haibara’s direction, who’s started snoring slightly.

“Thank you so much,” you say sweetly. “I’ll— Why are you wet?”

Gojo deadpans as he looks at you but, well, there’s water dripping from his hair, down his chin, and onto the shirt your hands were fisted in just a few minutes earlier, so, you think the question is valid.

“He was splashing water on his face when we got here,” Geto supplies helpfully. “Gojo runs hot.”

“And now it’s all over my floor,” Shoko mutters. “Next time, just wait ‘til the bathroom’s free, huh?”

Gojo looks like he has something to say just on the tip of his tongue, but he glances at you and seems to swallow it back.

“If anything, I made it cleaner,” he proclaims, leaning back on his chair. “Shoko, how long has it been since you cleaned in here? We really need to find you a partner who’s willing to do that stuff, otherwise you’ll keep living in fil—”

Shoko’s pencil case lands right in the middle of his face.

“You absolute brat,” she spits out, “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to tell me something like that when you rely exclusively on Geto to—”

The bickering continues, but you tune it out. Under the table, Satoru’s knee brushes against yours. It’s almost hesitant at first, before he leans his leg against yours, when he realizes you’re not moving away. This isn’t the smart choice, either, but, ah, you’re always, always the smart girl. Is it so bad to have a night of fun? Is it so bad that you want to know what it would feel like to have him, even if it’s just once?

He’ll break your heart, the voice of reason says in the back of your mind, but then Satoru looks back at you, checking to see if you’re laughing at how he’s making fun of Shoko and, well.

You think you’ll let him.

Any and all feedback in the form of asks, reblogs, comments, tags is highly encouraged and appreciated~ If you enjoy my work, interactions are what keep me writing and motivated!

I haven't written anything in months and I think it shows but, well, I have to restart somewhere lol, so I hope it was still fun for you and you enjoyed yourselves here for a little while. Thank you for reading <3

prequel

[fourmoony]

This may be weirdly specific so feel free to ignore if so but

Jamie with a reader who’s never felt like she was someone’s first choice and is having a hard time grasping that she *is* his

thanks for requesting angel! 1.5k f!reader modern!au

he's my sweet boy i need him in a way i cannot describe

masterlist

James' shrill ring tone fills the room, but neither of you make an effort to move for it where it's buzzing against the coffee table. You probably should be the one to do it, considering you're sprawled across the top of James, making it rather difficult for him to move. But, he doesn't ask you to, so you don't. Even when it rings a second time. You think James might actually be asleep, unaware to the incessant ringing. He's slept through worse, in all fairness.

But he groans petulantly when the ringing stops, turns to ping after ping, the texts flashing across his locked screen and illuminating the dark calm of his living room. His hand leaves it's place on your hip, reaching half heartedly for the device and when he fails, you sigh and reach for it yourself. It'd been a peaceful two hours of relaxing, just existing together in the same space, not really talking, not really doing anything except revelling in the feeling of each other's presence on James' couch after a busy week of barely seeing each other. Between your work, James' rugby practices, and trying to maintain social lives, it'd been hard to have quality time.

You're okay with that. More than okay with that. James has his life and you have yours. This thing you have, it's new and it's fragile, and you won't dent it or risk losing it by being clingy, by telling James that you miss him, that you want to spend more time with him, friends and coworkers, practices and life be damned. You refuse. So you slide the top half of your body off the couch, one hand holding yourself up on the floor, and the other outstretched for James' phone.

His left hand cups the back of your thigh, fingers slipping between the left and right. It's an innocent touch, but heat floods your body all the same as your fingers wrap around his rubber phone case and you heave your body back on top of his. He grumbles when the phone starts to ring again, rubs an apologetic hand up and down the back of your thigh which has you forcing your face into the crease of his neck and shoulder to hide the bright red of your cheeks.

He rests his head atop yours as he answers the phone.

Sirius' voice booms through the speaker, though it's too muffled to make out what he's saying. James answers whatever it is with a tired sounding "Not tonight, mate."

There's more muffled talking, a couple of voices added into the mix and you assume that Sirius is in the local pub. Your heart sinks a little when you realise he's likely inviting James out, and you don't have the heart to tell him you'd rather stay inside the cozy confines of his flat, half asleep in the dim evening light. You don't want to seem controlling or toxic, so you lie still, control your breathing, don't react to whatever is coming down the line from Sirius' end.

James chuckles lightly, his free hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back, hand warm against your skin where it's worked it's way under your - his - rugby jumper. "Yeah, yeah, she's here." James' hand squeezes the pudge of your hip at the mention of you.

You tilt your head up in interest and James smiles down at you, warmly, presses his lips to the crown of your head as Sirius screeches down the phone.

"No. No, Sirius, she doesn't want to spend her only day off in the pub listening to you lot." James speaks with humour in his voice, but you can see the hint of frustration that's in his eyes.

You frown, wonder if he's frustrated because he feels he has to pick between you and his friends. You love his friends, you get on well with them, but he's right, you can't think of anything worse on your only day off than going to the pub. "You should go." You whisper, urging James by attempting to climb off of him.

His arm wraps tight around your waist, brows furrowed as he looks down at you and shakes his head, "No." He mouths.

Then, "No. Sirius. No. Mate, you're smashed, have Moony take you home."

James laughs at whatever Sirius says in retort, and then the two are saying their goodbyes. James tosses his phone onto the coffee table after he switches it to silent mode.

"You should go. This is your only day off, as well. Go see your friends. We can do a quick dinner or something tomorrow." You try to urge him again.

James' immediate response is to hold you tighter to him, as though you may actually be trying to escape him. "I'd rather spend my time here. With you." He shrugs, like it's nothing.

Your heart does a little stutter at his words, but your brain catches up and you sigh, "Jamie, it's okay. If you want to go, you should."

His brows hook upward at the middle when he furrows them, his eyes searching yours, "Why is it so hard for you to believe I'd rather be here with you?"

You try not to flinch at his words, try not to think about all the boys before who've put a myriad of things above you. It's fine, really. You've grown accustomed to settling for the dregs, the stolen moments. James is worth the heavy feeling it leaves in your chest to be second best. Simply because when you're with him, the world melts away.

Feigning indifference, you shrug against him, "Because all we're doing is laying here in the dark, half asleep. Wouldn't you rather be out with your friends having a laugh?"

"Would you?" James counters, and it seems like he genuinely wants to know your answer, like he thinks, foolishly, so foolishly, you'd rather be anywhere else. That you wish you were doing more.

Doing nothing with James forever sounds like the best thing you've ever heard. "No. Not at all. I love this. But I know you. You're a social butterfly." You speak softly, cautious of the conversation turning into a row.

You have too many experiences with conversations like the one you're having now being turned into a row.

James nods, "I love this, too. And you're right, I like to be social, but sometimes that drains me. I've spent all week being social, spent all week missing you, and I'm drained. All I wanted to do all week was see you, spend time with you. I couldn't think of anything worse than going to the pub, right now."

His hands are as assuring as his words, trailing a path of warmth and comfort across the planes of your back, your thighs, your hips. It's surreal, the assertiveness he speaks with, the way he makes sure you know he means every word. Your stomach flutters with the idea of him missing you as much as you missed him. It's weird, to feel validated, to feel content and sure.

"I just don't want your friends to think you're picking me over them, or something." You mumble, head dropping back into the space between his shoulder and neck.

James hums, "I am though. Not in a bad way. I just," He pauses, like he's searching for the words, "I'm sure about this, you know? Sure about you, about us. You mean a lot to me, and I'm all in. You come above everything else because, for me, that's the only way it'll work."

You feel rather silly for the tears that spring their way to your eyes, and begin to leak without your consent against James' neck. He must feel them, because he tuts, using his hands to pry your face away from the skin, thumbs swiping softly at the fallen tears. He looks at you so gently you might start sobbing. Relief washes over you in waves, and you realise you hadn't even been aware how worried you were that you felt more for James than he did for you.

"Why are you crying, sweet girl?" He whispers, pressing a kiss to each of your tear stained cheeks.

You loose a breath, "I've never been someones first choice before."

That visibly upsets James, who takes it upon himself to right this wrong, stave off your tears by pressing kisses all over your face between murmured promises.

"I'd pick you in this life," a kiss to your nose, "the next," a kiss to your forehead, "the one after that," a kiss to your chin, "and in every universe."

He finishes with a kiss to your lips, soft and deep, his hands steady on the line of your jaw. You whine a little, pushing further into him until he's chuckling into your mouth.

"I'd pick you, too," You say into his mouth.

James smiles, bright as anything you've ever seen, "Thank God for that, lovie."

And yeah. Thank god for that.

[fanbasetwo]

first time w anton? virgin anton x virgin reader?

IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU 🙂

✦ BABY GIRL, 143 ! ANTON

001. PAIRING , virgin anton × virgin reader

002. SYNOPSIS , anton had been away from you for some months and now when he was back, you showed him all the texts you had seen on his phone. only ending up sealing the deal at the end.

003. GENRE , smut

004. WARNING(S) , kissing, a little dirty talk but anton is just shameless lol, teasing, pussy slapping, little to no prep, boob play, nipple play (slightly), they make up pretty early after fight, hymen breaking, mentions of blood and pain, too much plot if you ask me, lmk if I missed anything.

005. WORD COUNT , 1.8K

MASTERLIST!! join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

You had been dating Anton for a few years now. You met through a dating app, and while some might find that odd, you both clicked instantly. For better or worse, you fell in love.

Since you started dating at a young age, you both decided to seek job opportunities outside of town, which meant navigating a long-distance relationship. While many say long-distance relationships often fizzle out, that wasn’t the case for you two.

In fact, Anton would send you those silly memes that made you laugh and would video call you while cooking, asking for your advice if he messed something up. His friends teased you, saying you two were practically a married couple, and while there was some truth to that, the more accurate reality was that you both missed each other terribly.

So when he finally returned after landing a high-paying job—while you worked part-time as a cashier to cover rent—he insisted on paying your rent, but you turned him down.

The relationship seemed perfect, especially with his visit after what felt like two long years apart. But everything changed when you accidentally glanced at his phone. A text from a number with a heart emoji as a name read, “Is my baby fine?” In that moment, the realization hit you hard: the person you thought was your boyfriend was cheating on you.

“SO YOU CHEATED?!” you shouted as soon as you heard him enter the apartment. Anton, always the goofy one, jumped back in surprise at your furious tone and asked, feigning ignorance, “I’m not sure what you're talking about.”

“The message!” you ground out through clenched teeth, pointing at his phone, which he had mistakenly left behind.

As understanding seemed to dawn on him, he cursed under his breath and then smiled, which only confused you more. Why was he smiling? Shouldn’t he be trying to explain himself? Did those years together not mean anything to him?

Then he stepped closer, and instinctively, you took a step back until your back hit the wall of your apartment. His hands cupped your face as he said, “Hmm… Why would you trust the text so much? The ‘baby’ wasn’t me. The ‘baby’ was her dog, the one she asked me to take care of for a while.”

You didn’t buy it, so you pressed on, “Oh really? Then why does her username have a heart?”

He paused for a moment but answered without hesitation, even though you glared at him. “Well, maybe because that’s my mom?”

Processing that, your eyes widened. It actually made a sick sort of sense. The woman in the profile picture looked significantly older and bore some resemblance to Anton. Now you found yourself in a strange situation, filled with doubt.

You had just confronted your longtime boyfriend, your heart racing at the thought of betrayal, all sparked by a simple text while he gently held your face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I’m hurt, but I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you. I could never cheat on you, Y/N,” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours, the warmth of his skin anchoring you in that moment.

It took you back to when your love was fresh and innocent, when you were just seventeen, lost in each other’s world. Those years apart felt like an eternity, and as you closed your eyes, you longed for the sweetness of his touch, the electric thrill of his lips on yours.

The kiss deepened, a beautiful melody played by your lips as you moved together in perfect sync. He pulled away just enough to catch his breath before diving back in, his tongue tracing gentle patterns that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt the rhythm of your tongues entwining, a lovely exploration you had only ever dreamed of. You had talked about waiting for one another, yet now you felt the exhilarating unknown of your connection. His hands traveled up your shirt, igniting tingles on your skin, and as he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, the world around you faded away.

“Can I touch you more?” he asked, his hands gliding under your shirt as he looked at you with such intensity and love, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. The truth was, both of you were a bit inexperienced in this area, but let’s be honest, you both wanted to explore… so you nodded.

Before long, his hands were cupping your breasts beneath your shirt and bra. He was touching your bare skin. You could feel both of your breaths hitching; it was something new for the two of you after all.

You feel Anton's warm breath on your face as he leans in close, his lips softly brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I can... really touch, right?" he murmurs, looking for your confirmation before pulling you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you. His tongue dances with yours as the kiss deepens, sending tingles through your body.

When you nod, he breaks the kiss, and his hands move with a swiftness that takes your breath away. Your shirt and bra are discarded in one smooth motion, leaving your bare skin exposed to his hungry gaze. His thumbs find your nipples, rubbing the sensitive buds until they harden into tight peaks. You can't help but let out a soft moan as waves of pleasure wash over you, your back pressed firmly against the wall.

Suddenly, you're airborne as Anton scoops you up in his arms, cradling you securely against his chest. A warm feeling envelops you, and you can't help but wish that at least one of you had some experience with this. "You don't mind, right?" he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he lays you down gently on the bed.

"Yeah, but..." you trail off, a hint of nervousness creeping into your tone. "Do you know how to...? At least one of us should know what we're doing."

Anton crawls on top of you, his powerful body hovering over yours. He leans down, planting a soft kiss between the valley of your breasts before looking up at you from between them. A sheepish grin spreads across his face. "I may have watched some... for scientific purposes, of course," he adds with a playful wink.

His arousal is evident, a hardened bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. It brushes against your jeans, sending shivers through both of you.

Your eyes flutter shut as Anton unbuttons his pants, the sound of fabric sliding against fabric filling the room. He discards them on the floor, along with your own jeans, the cool air brushing against your now bare skin. His large hand envelops your smaller one, guiding it towards his clothed bulge. You both hitch a breath as your fingers make contact, his arousal evident beneath the thin fabric.

"See what you do to me?" he whispers, his voice low and husky with need. You swallow hard, your heart thumping in your chest as he pushes his boxers down, and you see him, all hard and long, your eyes widening as a deep blush spreads across your cheeks at the exposed sight of him, vulnerable to you.

"Baby, you wanna put it in or do I?" he asks, unapologetic and direct, his tone incredulous. You squirm under him and look away, embarrassment exuding like a palpable scent.

"That's not quite. decent," you mumble, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Anton chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. "For what we're about to do, I don't think we should care about being decent," he says with a raised brow and a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as your clothes join his on the floor.

Again, his hand bumps against yours to move it to his bare cock. You can feel every ridge and vein beneath your fingertips, the heat of his skin searing against your own. Your shyness returns, but there's no denying the effect your touch has on him. He groans and his hips bulge slightly as your hand is constricted around his length.

"Have you never slept with anyone?" you ask, a note of skepticism creeping into your voice because of how confident he seemed. He shakes his head, the dark locks falling across his forehead.

"It's because I love you and I trust you," he breathes, words stuttered over a guttural curse as your hand tightens its grip. "Fuck.”

Your grip tightens on the shoulder of Anton as his cock teases your wetness, the head slapping lightly against your pussy. He lets out a sigh as that anticipation builds between you and him. "I am going to put it in," he whispers, his gaze searching yours for any sign of disapproval. Finding none, he slowly pushes forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance.

A shiver of agony rips across you as your cherry is broken, drops of blood trickling down into your pussy. Tears well up from your squeezed eyes, your body tensing against this strange sensation. Anton buries his face in the crook of your neck, his own breathing in ragged gasps. "It—h-hurts—" your voice cracks, the words barely audible.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he asks, "Should I pull out?" Despite the guilt etched on his face, you shake your head stubbornly. "No, I want to do it." Your walls clench around him, your body instinctively trying to accommodate his size.

Anton takes a sharp breath of air. He waits a few moments before pushing deeper. A scream tears from your throat, your body arching off the bed as he sheathes himself fully inside you. Tears stream down your face, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he stills, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion.

"This is good, right? You're not scared now. are you?" he whispers against your lips, his hips rocking gently, your body slowly relaxing as it grows accustomed to the stretch.

"Mm." is all you can say, your mind dazed by the shocks of the sensations. His cock spasms inside you, and you and he are suddenly acutely aware of the crimson stain spreading across the sheets. Concern flickers in his eyes, but he knows this is normal, a testament to your lost innocence.

"It's okay, baby. It's supposed to hurt a little the first time," Anton reassures you, his voice soft and soothing. He kisses your tears away, his lips trailing along your cheek and down your neck. "I've got you. We'll go slow."

He starts to move, his hips rocking gently against yours, easing you into the rhythm. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure mixed with discomfort, your body struggling to adapt to the foreign sensation of being filled so completely.

"Breathe, Y/N. In and out," he coaches, his own breathing ragged as he fights to maintain control. "Tell me how it feels. If it's too much, I'll stop."

You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on the instructions. "I-It's intense," you manage, your voice trembling. "But don't stop. I want to feel all of you."

NOTE FROM SENA , this was genuinely just supposed to be a drabble, how the hell is this 1.8k words 😭💕

© fanbasetwo | tumblr

[ninii-winchester]

Lie to me

Pairing : Dean Winchester X reader

Word count : 4k

Warnings : angst, hurt/no comfort, Major character death, depressing thoughts, canon violence.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Dean was tossing and turning in his bed in the motel room. Sam was soundly asleep on the other bed. The two of them had just burn the bones of an old lady who was haunting her old house after she'd committed suicide. Dean was tired but he couldn't fall asleep. He quietly left the room and made his way towards Baby. He knew he shouldn't disturb Y/n this late but he knew she barely slept herself. It was two in the morning and he texted her asking if she's awake and she called him instead of answering.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Was the first thing she asked as he picked up.

"I could ask you the same thing." He retorted settling in the front seat of the Impala.

"I'm not the one who came from a hunt." She replied and he chuckled. He loved how she reprimanded him for the exact same thing she does herself. He knew she wouldn't let it go unless he turned the conversation around, so he filled her in all about the hunt and how she should've joined them for this one.

"It was literally just a ghost. Salt and burn. It didn't even need two people and you're saying I should've came along too." She replied sassily. They talked for a while when she suddenly asked, "why didn't you find someone to entertain you for the night?" Dean shrugged even though she couldn't see him.

"Why would I need to find someone else when I could easily call my sweetheart." He replied with a smirk and she could hear it in his voice. This was something she hated about Dean. He constantly flirted with her and called her nicknames but never went further. She knew she had a small crush on him, who wouldn't. But he never showed any interest in her other than his incessant flirting. He hooked up with women left and right. He never even bothered to react when she was approached by guys or even if she left with one, once in a blue moon. She wasn't the type to sleep around but a girl has here needs, and finding a partner in this type of lifestyle can be a hassle. She knew Dean wouldn't turn her down if she made a move but she didn't want to be just another woman in Dean Winchester's bed so she never acted on her feelings. But his behaviour made it harder for her to keep her feelings at bay.

"I think you should've." She replied try to keep the bitterness out of her tone but it didn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"Why should I have?" He questioned curiously. He couldn't quite understand why she became so dismissive when the two were having a great conversation.

"I'm going to sleep, Dean. You should too." She faked a yawn and he could tell something was off. She was his best friend and he could tell she was hiding something. But at the same time he knew she wouldn't tell him no matter how hard he tried to get it out of her. That's just how she was. He let out a sigh and said goodbye hanging up. Dean wondered what made her cut the call short. He recalled the whole conversation hoping he could remember if he said something to upset her. But nothing came to mind. He let out another sigh before getting out the car and going back to his motel room.

Y/n dropped onto the mattress of the motel room she was staying at. She herself had finished a salt and burn two days ago in a town in Michigan, but she didn't leave because she liked this place. The motel room wasn't as bad as the others she'd been to and the people were nice. And there were no other hunts that she knew of. She didn't like the research work to find hunts so she mostly relied on Bobby to send cases her way. Or any other hunter who needed backup.

She laid on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She wasn't aware of the supernatural and she lived a normal life. John Winchester once saved her from a Wendigo in the woods and she'd been grateful to him. When she had another run in with a supernatural creature, a ghost in her apartment, she called John but he didn't answer and she found his son's number from his voicemail. And that's how she met Dean. He was a flirt, she gathered the minute he walked inside her apartment and confirmed it when she cheekily asked her if she wanted to thank him some other way. She remembered the way she rolled her eyes at him and told him off and how he chuckled, sending a wink her way, telling her to call him if she changed her mind. But she also remembers how she found him extremely attractive.

Knowing about the supernatural and running into trouble twice she decided to learn to defend herself. She called Dean and asked if he could teach her. Luckily for her, he agreed saying how he didn't have anything better to do since his brother went to college and his father left him on his own. She learnt stuff quickly and after a hunt with Dean, she knew she wanted to help save people for the rest of her life. He introduced her to Bobby and Sam, when he came back and the rest was history.

Her phone rang and she groaned not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment. Calls with Dean often mess with her and she had a hard time convincing herself that it's just how he is and it's nothing serious. She looked at the caller ID and furrowed her brows.

"Do you ever check the time before calling?." She spoke into her phone.

"Good morning your highness, my apologies. Did you have your tea yet?" Bobby sassed from the other side of the phone and she rolled her eyes.

"I drink coffee. Keep up old man." The man grunted in response and she chuckled. He told her he found a case and its a huge vampire nest, with probably fifteen vampires and they're causing trouble in Rockford, Illinois. "Are you really so tired of me that you're sending me there by myself?" She joked making Bobby roll his eyes to the back of his head.

"I've called Sam and Dean too. They'll meet you there." He replied. She affirmed that she heard him. Saying their goodbyes she hung the phone.

Just what I need.

She met up with the Winchesters the next day. Dean tried to get her to talk to him but she brushed him off, not bothering with him unless it was hunt related. Sam furrowed his brows at the interaction clearly baffled as she's never dismissed Dean before. The hunt went pretty well and Y/n finally let loose. She went to her friendly self as they hit the nearest bar for celebratory drinks. Her mood instantly dampened when a pretty brunette walked up to Dean and he flashed her his ever so charming smile. Y/n frowned as Dean let the woman whisk him away for the night. She'd expected him to stay but it was just wishful thinking. She knew he would never refuse a good time.

"Why don't you just tell him?" Sam quipped from beside her as she peeled at the label of her beer bottle, fingers picking at the edges absentmindedly. She sent him a glare but he didn't waver, and shot her a look.

"It's Dean. The chances of him cutting me off are far greater than him wanting anything real with me." She replied taking a swig of her drink.

"That's not..." Sam tried to defend his brother but then he stopped himself mid sentence. He knows Dean wouldn't want to risk getting close to anyone, even if it's Y/n.

Y/n patted Sam on his arm, reassuring him that she's fine and he doesn't have to make excuses for his brother. Surprisingly enough, Dean left the Impala to Sam so he left early and since she had her own car, she took her time going back. She arrived at the motel but she didn't want to go inside their room, not yet atleast. She noticed a swing set right outside the motel which was unlikely for places like these. She made her way to the swings and sat down on one. Self deprecating thoughts thoughts swarmed inside her head as she looked up at the sky.

It's her own fault she fell for the hunter anyways. She should've known she wasn't someone he'd want to be with. She's not the ideal woman one would want. At least not someone like Dean would want. She doesn't have the perfect curvy figure or any specific features that make her stand out. Her hair's unkept most of the time and she's got scars all over her body. She's not desirable.

She didn't know how much time had passed but she could see the darkness fade around her. The sun wasn't up yet it wasn't dark anymore. With a loud sigh she continued to stare ahead to figure out a way she could get out of this mess without a heartbreak. She heard the familiar thump of boots against the pavement and looked up to see Dean walking towards the motel. He had his jacket in his hand and he was whistling as he walked.

At least someone had a good night.

Dean noticed a figure perched on a swing and recognised the silhouette. With hurried steps he approached her and took a seat beside her on the swing. She turned to look at him and immediately regretted seeing the red and purple hickies that lingered on his neck.

"What're you doing out here?" Dean asked staring at her face.

"Just thinking. Did you have a good night?" Y/n replied, she wondered if she's some sort a masochist who finds pleasure in inflicting pain upon oneself.

"Yeah it was good. What're you thinking about?" Dean was curious, she'd been acting distant and he wanted to know why. She's even sitting out here in the early hours of the day when she should've been sleeping. "You're distant." He added like a child who lost his toy. He missed his best friend if he was being honest.

"Really Dean? I wasn't the who one left my friends for sex." She didn't intend to snap but his words struck a nerve and she felt the need to defend herself.

"You say as if you've never done that before!" Dean replied sharply. "Something is going on with you that you're clearly not telling me." He was getting frustrated with her behaviour and he needed to know.

"Well maybe I don't like watching you go off with women all the time." She answered harshly and he flinched at her tone. He could only managed to choke out a 'What?' not getting what she meant. She stared ahead keeping quiet.

"What's the supposed to mean?" Dean asked again.

"You're really gonna make me say it, won't you?" She scoffed and he shook his head in confusion. "I like you Dean, more than a friend." She said quietly, hoping he didn't hear her but the silence enveloping them made it left no doubt that he heard her loud and clear. She had prepared herself for his rejection but she didn't think his silence would hurt this bad.

"Y/n I, I've never-..." he stuttered not knowing how to get his point through without breaking her heart. "I've always thought of you as my best friend, is all." She looked down at her lap, nodding her head in understanding. There we no tears however her heart was being ripped apart inside.

"Why'd you always make me feel special? Constant flirt with me and gave me those nicknames. Why'd you act like you cared?" Dean rubbed a hand over his head. "Why'd you lead me on?" Her voice was small and accusing.

"It wasn't an act. I do care about you. I didn't mean to. I thought..." he trailed off not wanting to hurt her any more than he already did.

"I get it." She cleared her throat. What else was she supposed to say or do? Throw a fit? The option she had was to accept the fact that he wouldn't love her ever.

"I do love you, Y/n/n. Just not the way you-" He started but she interrupted him.

"I said I get it, Dean." She nodded again. "I think we should go inside." She said standing up from her place and heading towards the room. Sam was fast asleep when she entered the room. She sat on the pullout couch when Dean entered the room and settled on the other bed. They would usually share the bed since they'd been best friends for years but now it all seemed too awkward. Even being in the same room as him was suffocating her.

After hours of tossing and turning Dean finally slipped into a deep slumber and Y/n took it as a chance to grab her stuff and slip out of the room, and their lives. For good.

When Sam woke up he noticed Y/n was gone. Her was not in the parking lot and her bag was gone too. He shook his brother awake notifying him of her departure. Dean knew she would want to have some time apart but he didn't expect her to leave without as much as a goodbye.

"Why'd did she leave without saying goodbye?" Sam wondered out loud and Dean looked at his feet. He knew the reason she left, he was the reason she left. He shouldn't have been so careless with his gestures that gave her the wrong idea. Sam recognised the look on his brother's face as guilt. "What did you do?" He asked and Dean looked up.

"What makes you think I did something?" Dean felt offended at his brother's accusation.

"Because it's written all over your face so fucking spill." Sam glared at his brother folding his arms across his chest.

"I just told her the truth." Sam raised his brow, gesturing him to continue. "She told me she liked me and I told her I don't feel the same. It's not my fault she couldn't be an adult about it." Dean snapped, his anger flaring up as he felt unfairly portrayed as the villain.

"You told you her you don't reciprocate her feelings?" Sam asked incredulously. "Dean are you insanse why would you say that?"

"Because that's the truth!! I told her I loved her as a friend, not in the way she wants me to." Dean snapped back. Sam shook his head at his brother's stupidity. Sam knew deep down Dean loved Y/n more than anyone. She was his best friend but most of she was that one person had made a special place in his brother's heart.

Sam didn't say anything instead he went out to call Y/n. She didn't any of his calls and it went straight to voicemail. She didn't want to talk to anyone. All she wants is to deal with her heartbreak once and for all. And then she'll go back to her friends, to Dean. And they can pretend it never happened.

Four months passed without any contact with the boys and Y/n was nowhere near getting over Dean. She'd assumed hearing him reject her would get her the closure she needed to get over her crush it seemed to be more than a crush. Over the four months Sam continued to call her and leave messages for her and she would always just send him a little text telling him alive. Nothing other than that. He was atleast greatful that was alive.

Y/n had found a ghoul case in Ohio and as much as she hated those awful creatures she decided to go. The ghoul had been digging up graves to feed on the dead, so she made her way to the cemetery, a molotov cocktail and lighter safely tucked in her jacket and a machete in case something goes southways.

With a flashlight tightly gripped in her hand she entered the cemetery. It was late and she could she a silhouette a few feet away from where she stood. It was hunched over something and she could tell he was feeding off of a dead body. She grimaced as she neared the creature. The crunch of leaves beneath her boot resounded in the otherwise quiet cemetery making the ghoul turn to look at her. The ghoul hissed at her and jumped at her before she could react. With a swift motion she dodged it and moved aside kicking it away. The creature seem to grow angry and lurched towards her, it managed to hold her arm and bit her forearm. She screamed in agony as it’s sharp teeth dug into her flesh. She took a deep breath before she pushed at his chest, the ghoul taking it as an opening to dig its claw in the side and rip a patch of flesh from her body. Y/n headbutted it and the ghoul went barreling straight into a tombstone. She fell to the ground and quickly took out the Molotov cocktail and lit it up before throwing it at it, burning it alive.

Now that the ghoul was taken care of she moved backwards until her back hit one of the tombstones and cradled her side. She was bleeding profusely and she knew she couldn’t make it out of here on her own. She could call for help but she wasn’t sure who to call. She was too prideful to call the boys. She dug out her phone from her jacket and called Bobby. He grumbled as he answered the call.

“This better be good.” The old man said over the phone. Y/n let out a chuckle at his words.

“Heya Bobby. Ran into a bit of trouble.” She said sheepishly.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Ghoul ripped my side if that’s your definition of trouble. And he bit my arm.” She scoffed followed by a chuckled.

“Where are you damnit?”

“Ohio.” She breathed out feeling herself getting tired. Bobby cursed under his breath. Ohio was a good hundred miles away. It would take him hours to reach her.

"Ohio? Damn, y/n, that’s a long way. How you even end up all the way out there?" She didn’t answer, instead she coughed, spitting the blood beside her. Bobby sighed knowing he couldn’t get to her in time. “Hey keep talking. Describe your surroundings to me.” He put her on speaker as he called Sam from his other phone. He didn’t answer so he left him a voicemail.

“Its a dark cemetery, trees are pretty though.” He heard her voice becoming quiet. “Not bad for a last view huh?” She chuckled and Bobby took in a sharp breath. He really wanted to reprimand her not to say things like that but at this point he wasn’t even sure if she’d make it. “Hey, can I call you back?” She asked randomly. The old man frowned asking her why but she didn’t respond. Instead she hung up on him. With her vision blurred she managed to call Dean. The phone rang for a few seconds and to her surprise he answered.

“Y/n?”

“Dean.” She mumbled. “I didn’t wake you up did I?” breathing was shallow and irregular, each breath coming in ragged gasps as if the air itself was slipping away.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? You sound-” She interrupted him.

“You have pretty eyes. They’d make good for a last view.” She chuckled. Dean's heart skipped a beat at her words. There was something in your tone, something that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘last view’?" Dean clenched his jaw, a sense of dread building in his gut. Something was wrong, very wrong. He quickly woke Sam and filled him in on the situation.

“I’m sorry I walked out.” She coughed up more blood and sputtered, choking on it. “I’m sorry for ruining….our friendship.” Dean shook his head already making his way towards his car. Sam following behind.

“Where are you? What happened?” Dean was now getting anxious. She sounded so fragile, as if she was on the verge of her end. God—he didn’t even want to think about it.

“Ohio Cemetery, Ghoul.” She heard him open his car door and slamming it shut. “I just wanted to….. I love you Dean. Tell Sam I’m sorry.” She could feel her tears builidng up as hot white pain surged through her body.

“No…no no, don’t you dare die on me.” He growled stepping on the gas. “I’m coming to get you.” She smiled wistfully, knowing it’s futile. She’s not going to make it.

“Hey Dean.” Her breaths came in faint, uneven whispers, barely rising above the sound of the surrounding silence. “Do me a favour?” Tears sprung to Dean’s eyes and he nodded his head even though she couldn’t see him.

“Anything. Just please hold on. I’m on my way.” He begged, his heart felt like it was being crushed under a weight of helplessness.

“Lie to me.” She whispered and Dean’s foot stepped on the brakes making the Impala swerve a bit. Sam looked at his brother as the car came to a halt. “Lie to me once please.” Dean knew what she meant, he knew what she wanted him to say. But he couldn’t lie to her. Not when she’s taking her last breath. And because it wouldn’t be a lie.

“I can’t.” He whispered and she sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t lie to you. But I can tell you I love you. It’s the truth.” Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the overwhelming sense of grief, sorrow and regret. “I love you so much it hurts.” He cried. Sam patted his brother on the back, unable to hold onto his own tears.

“You sound pretty convincing.” Y/n chuckled feeling the strength in her limbs drain with every passing moment, and her once-strong grip had become weak and feeble.

“It’s the truth, I just didn’t want you to be in danger because of me. I wanted to protect you. I pushed you away. When all I wanted was to hold you close to me. I do fucking love you.” Dean said angrily. Not angry at her but with himself for being a fool, for letting her go. For not being there to protect her.

“It’s okay.” She whispered. The atmosphere around her felt heavy and somber, marking the approach of an inevitable end. “I love you.” She felt the phone slip from her grasp as she took in her final breath. The phone fell to ground with a thud, and Dean panicked.

Dean’s desperate pleas through the phone fell into a haunting void, the line now carrying only the echoes of his sorrow. The sudden, silence left a heavy, unspoken grief that seemed to linger, a stark reminder of a love that was cut short by the cruel hand of fate.

“Y/n? Sweetheart? C’mon please talk to me.” He begged through the phone but all he got was silence from the other end. “Baby please.” Dean was overwhelmed by a crushing sense of guilt, his chest tightening with every recollection of what had transpired. He was the reason it ended like it, she left him twice, all because of his own cowardice. He was scared to love her and she left him forever. His every thought was consumed by the desire to undo the harm he believed he had caused. But it was too late now and he’s left behind to bare the consequences of his own actions.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

[ashlynlovestlou]

au where abby and reader try to break up :( emphasis on try because they just can’t stay away from each other :( they keep talking and updating each other on things until its too much :( and they get back together :)

(i put my whole back into this pls be nice)

꩜ cw: no smut! abby x reader , reader works at a plant nursery , use of pet names

masterlist

the breakup was rough, to say the least. abby was your first everything. your first kiss, your first girlfriend, your first time, and your first everything. letting go of that was the most heartbreaking thing either of you had gone through.

for the first couple of days post-breakup you could hardly eat and sleep. your bed felt so cold and so empty without her next to you. you even made a lame attempt to line some pillows up to make it seem like she was there. and for a moment, it worked. but her warmth wasn't there for you to wrap yourself in. her heartbeat wasn't there to listen to. and her arms weren't there to hold you.

despite the fact that you were no longer together, you still talked. but less than you usually did. so many messages went unsent, so many calls you hesitated calling.

the first time either of you said something to one another was when you texted her about the job you had been wanting for months. she knew how much you wanted to work at the plant nursery down the street from your apartment, even before you split up. so when you got the email after your interview saying that you got the job, your immediate instinct was to tell abby.

"i got the job!" you had texted her.

"thats so amazing, sweet girl." she responded so quickly that it made you think she was anticipating you to text her, "i'm proud of you."

and just like nothing had happened, you were smiling down at your phone, just like you were before you started dating.

but that butterfly feeling in your stomach didn't last long. it fizzled out when you remembered you were no longer with her.

over the course of a few days you chatted about little things. your first day at your new job. abby's dog, alice, catching a squirrel in her backyard. little, minuscule check-ins. nothing too serious.

until a week later.

"want to get coffee?" she texted you one day, while you were busy watering plants in your denim overalls.

it caught you by surprise, to say the least, but you knew it wasn't a date. just two friends getting together for a cup of joe. not romantic. strictly platonic.

no matter how much you wanted to run back into her muscular arms and re-familiarize yourself with her touch, you couldn't. you shouldn't.

"sure." you text her shortly, without the need to ask which coffee shop or what time. while you were dating, you went every week to the same coffee shop at the same time on the same day and ordered the same drinks.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟthat weekend ｡┈┈⋆

the second you walked through the doors of the coffee shop your nostrils were filled with the scent you missed so much. freshly brewed coffee grounds and warm pastries. the faint sound of chattering from the patrons enjoying their own treats.

and there she was.

sitting at a two-top table, two drinks in front of her. she was already looking at you, as if drinking in your image. even though you were devastated and still a little heartbroken from the previous events of your relationship, you did a good job at finding distractions. which is probably why you don't look quite as miserable as she does.

"hey." she greets you as you sit down across from her, "i um.. i ordered the drink you usually got."

she remembered.

the mug was still warm, so she couldn't have been here long.

"thank you." you nod your head once, "you didn't have to do that."

"its no big deal." she shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee. black coffee, to be exact. you never understood how she liked the bitter taste of it, "how have you been?"

"good." you answer quickly. so quick that she has a hard time believing you. in reality, you were good. but you weren't great. you would never admit to her how you would accidentally cook too much food, because you were used to cooking for two people. you would never admit how many times you've accidentally set the table with two plates instead of one. how you would say 'i'm home!' when you walk through the door, even when nobody was there to listen, "i'm uh.. how about you? how are you?"

"im alright." she says.

but not good. you tell yourself in your head.

for a little while the two of you just chit-chat back and forth, talking about nonsense for half an hour before you notice abby fidgeting. she can't sit still, and you have a gut feeling you know exactly what's wrong.

"sweetheart, i cant keep doing this." she finally breaks, interrupting your rant about how you hate one of your coworkers.

"wait, huh? did i say something wrong?"

she shakes her head, glancing around the coffee shop like she's afraid to make eye contact with you, "we shouldn't have broken up."

oh.

your heart falls to the pit of your stomach, "what?"

"i need you more than i thought i did. i miss you."

you stare at her, eyes wide and lips slightly agape. you wanted to hear these words, but you never thought that you ever would, "are you.. are you serious?"

she nods her head, looking back at you.

"abby, i... i dont know."

"baby." she breathes deeply, desperate for your forgiveness, "dont make me beg."

you exhale, your cheeks burning crimson. you had waited so long for one of you to finally say something about the breakup. you waited so long for one of you to speak up about the need for the other.

without another moment of hesitation, you lean across the table, boldly smashing your lips into hers.

she tastes sweet, just as she always had. she was wearing coffee and the mint chapstick you left at her house and she never returned it, because she liked being able to have your taste with her.

she smiles against your lips, baring all her teeth. when you both pull away you can see her little dimples on her cheeks, the skin underneath her freckles a light shade of pink.

"so.." she says, folding her hands together in her bulky lap, "is that a yes?"