#even if he didn't go about it the right way
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chosolar · 1 day ago
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!
gojo satoru x shy!femreader
flirty!satoru didn't think much of you when he first met you. yeah you were cute and he saw you often behind the counter at his favourite coffee shop, but you kept to yourself that the only thing he knew about you was your name. next time you hang out with them, he was determined to at least get to know you a little better.
flirty!satoru started asking to go out with only you after a few months, which you weren't suspicious of. suguru had a lot of responsibilities, and shoko was always tired and preferred staying home, so you didn't think much of it when it was only the two of you going out.
flirty!satoru is always paying for you during your "hangouts". satoru will never let you pay for anything because he will always have the provider mindset (what a man).
flirty!satoru hates sharing clothes, even with a close friend like suguru. he's grown up as a spoiled only child so he hates any kind of sharing, but he will never say no to giving you his hoodies!! he is in love with the way his hoodie so is large on you that it basically engulfs you. he just thinks you look so adorable when you wear his sweaters.
flirty!satoru loves sleeping beside you. after a long day, he likes to come over and he doesn't care if it's on the bed or your couch, he loves snuggling up to you and feeling the warmth of your body against him. the first night you slept over at his apartment, you left early in the morning because you felt embarrassed so now satoru wakes up early to prevent you from doing so again.
flirty!satoru enjoys making you flustered IMMENSELY. everytime you hand him the house keys, he'll let his fingers slightly intertwine with yours, imitating hand holding. if you ask him to grab something from the top of the cabinet, he'll cage you in his arms before you get a chance to move out the way and he'll press his body onto your back before handing you the thing you asked him to get. his love language for sure is physical touch.
flirty!satoru who is so physically affectionate with you, it's like he'll die if he's not touching you in any way. he's quite sneaky too, when you're sitting on the couch beside him, he'll do the good ole "yawn and stretch" trick to put his arm over you. when you're watching a scary movie with him, satoru would pretend to be scared to get closer to you and if he's feeling extra bold, he'll hide his face into the crook of your neck, his lips being dangerously close to your skin.
flirty!satoru notices the way you try to take sneaky glances at him when you think he's not looking. he basks in the fact that even though you're not officially together, your eyes are always on him (the same for him about you ofc). sometimes he'll even look back at you and see if you'll continue the eye contact but he knows you'll turn away (he loves doing this because he thinks that it's so cute you can barely hold eye contact with him).
flirty!satoru is speechless when you get clingy with him when you get a couple of drinks in your system. after everyone left satoru's penthouse, you stayed behind, tipsy and unable to even walk straight. he takes a sit beside you on his couch, tilting his head to look at you trying to stay awake. you caught him off-guard when you crawled into his lap, you're situated in between his thighs with your legs crossed on top of his right thigh. you lean your head on his chest, and he instinctively puts his arm around your waist so that you don't fall back. you nestle your head into his chest and muttered, "you smell good".
as shy as you usually are, he wanted to keep seeing you like this. a side of you that only he can see - clingy and more outgoing (also very promiscuous but no one else needs to know).
flirty!satoru takes time out of his busy day to come pick you up when you're off, especially if you're working closing shifts. friends pick each other up all the time, what's the difference? it's not like satoru came all the way from the other side of the city, speeding the entire way, and running a couple of red yellow lights... he just didn't want you to wait for him outside where someone sketchy might come up to you.
after arriving in front your apartment complex, you offered him dinner as a thank you, and there's no way flirty!satoru would ever decline your cooking! after a hearty meal that satoru rates 10/10, he suggests watching this new movie suguru was telling him about.
midway through the movie you end up falling asleep, your head leaning onto the side of his arm. he can tell that you're uncomfortable with the position so he scoots forward on the couch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder and having you snuggle up to his arm.
satoru ends up closing the tv soon after and carrying you to your bed. he fixes the hairs that are covering your face and pulls the duvet over you. after ensuring that you're sleeping comfortably, he goes back go the living room to close all the lights when he notices your phone ringing with notifications.
omfg forgot to tell u guys but we finally saw the guy she was talking about 12:35 am
she wasnt lying when she said hes so fine 12:35 am
@[username] pls tell me he has friends 12:36 am
are you guys seeing or what!!! ;) 12:36 am
the groupchat you had with your close friends from work was filled with the coworker who you closed with gushing over satoru. she went on about how he waited for you at the front of the shop, that he opened the door for you, and even introduced himself as a "close friend" of yours (with a wink).
satoru couldn't help but smile at your phone, looking through all the times you've mentioned him to your friends. he writes a quick message to your friends before closing the app. like he came to do, satoru closed the lights all around your apartment then made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and falling asleep soon after.
flirty!satoru who after that night, becomes more confident in his advances towards you. he's been so affectionate that even suguru and shoko are questioning your relationship. suguru notices that satoru's homescreen is not his fav celebrity, but rather a candid pic of you! he also saw a glimpse of your contact name on the white-haired man's phone. had suguru known better, he would've thought the two of you were already dating.
flirty!satoru was hyping himself up the next week to actually ask you out. he was going all out for you, with a small hike to a cliff that overlooked the skyline of city and there would be a picnic blanket with your favourite foods inside the picnic basket with arrangements of your favourite flowers surrounding the blanket, the whole shabam!
he calls you.
and calls.
and calls.
but you don't answer.
it was getting closer to the time that he needed to be on the way, but you still weren't answering. he was about to leave his penthouse when he received a text from you.
hey satoru I think I need some space right now. I'll text you back when I feel okay, hope you understand. 6:27 pm
and for the first time in his life, flirty!satoru's stomach dropped.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈
hello! this is my first time posting on tumblr and ngl i'm kinda nervous but whateverrrr I have so many wip about the jjk men i need them out of the notes app NEOW this is also not proofread :)
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sayangrafayel · 2 days ago
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They got caught staring at you! (pre-relationship) (non canon AU)
Uh oh! You caught them staring at you. What are they gonna do about it? You guys are strangers except for Caleb because.. childhood friends and all.
(I wrote Zayne as a stranger too because they got separated for a while and.. IT JUST WORKS BETTER THAT WAY OKAY.)
Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.
Sylus
At the club.
Does Not break eye contact even after you caught him.
You want to ask him why he's staring at you but your friends are scared (for you). But you went anyway.
"Excuse me, are you staring at me?" "I am, yes." "Okay.. can I help you with anything?" "Your phone number would be nice." "You know staring like that at a stranger could be seen as creepy, right?"
Xavier
In a library.
Breaks eye contact, but immediately recovers and smiled at you. He waves too.
"Sorry, do we know each other? Why are you staring at me?" "Oh, we don't. Sorry. I think you're very beautiful." "Oh! Thank you.. you look very pretty too." "I'm.. pretty?" "Mhm!"
You end up being the one asking for his phone number because.. well.. he forgot.
Rafayel
At one of his art exhibitions.
He's quite subtle about it plus you were too busy staring at his art to notice. He ends up being the one approaching YOU.
"Like what you see?" "Sorry?" "The art. You like it?" "Oh! I do. It's very... captivating." "Not as captivating as you." "Sorry?" "I said thanks! It's one of my favorites too!"
He ends up gifting you the art piece with his phone number on the back of the piece.
Zayne
At a cafe.
You notice him staring at you, or rather, you notice how hard he's trying to look casual.
"Sorry, are you staring at me, Sir?" "No." "Oh" "Yes. Yes I am." "Oh oka-" "I'm sorry. I will leave now. I apologize." "SIR WAIT-"
It gets more awkward because when you go for a check up the next day, he's your new doctor.
Caleb
You guys are studying together.
"Stop that." "Stop what?" "Stop staring at me like that! I can't concentrate." "Didn't you always stare at me when we were kids? Why can't I do the same?"
He's not shy about it. Nu-uh, he will openly stare at you. Hand under his chin and all that. Remember his quality time preview? Just like that.
You end up having to turn your back to him. Otherwise no work will get done.
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dilf-docs · 3 days ago
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So Is it Your Place Or Mine?
bfd!joel miller x younger!reader
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summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)
word count: 3,701 words
side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)
part: prev | masterlist | next
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"What do you mean you're not coming?"
It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.
Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.
"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"
Bullshit.
Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.
"Need help?"
His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.
"I'm at my dorm, sorry"
Double bullshit.
Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.
"I can drop by later then" she suggests.
His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.
"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.
"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"
He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?
"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"
I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.
"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.
Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?
"Should I worry?"
Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.
"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.
"Is it okay if I-"
"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.
"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"
He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.
"What I want is you"
The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.
The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.
It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.
The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.
"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.
When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.
"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"
You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.
"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.
"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.
"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.
"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"
"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.
He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.
"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.
Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.
He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.
"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"
You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.
"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?
He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.
"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"
You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.
He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"
To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.
He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.
"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"
Mine.
The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?
No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?
He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.
"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.
"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"
"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"
Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.
"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"
"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.
"Then take it, hungry one"
His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.
"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.
"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"
His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"
You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.
"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"
Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"
"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"
Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.
But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.
"Joel..." you breath out his name.
"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.
"K-keep going"
Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.
Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.
"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"
You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.
"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"
His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.
If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.
Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.
You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.
"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"
You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.
"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"
He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.
"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.
Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.
"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"
Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.
"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.
"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"
You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.
You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.
But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.
You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.
"I want to ride your belt buckle"
There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.
"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"
"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"
"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"
"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.
He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.
"Get'ere you filthy slut"
You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.
"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"
You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.
"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"
His heart takes a dangerous leap.
"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"
You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.
"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.
"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"
"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"
"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"
You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.
"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"
"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"
"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"
You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.
"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.
Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.
"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.
You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.
For a moment, it feels like it could be.
"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"
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sugarwarachan · 1 day ago
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addicted to you
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summary: Kirishima Eijiro's pretty positive he’s going to hell. You can’t listen to your buddy’s girlfriend cum that many times and not be on a one-way ticket to the fiery pits of doom. When he's at the end of his rope, one night might change the dynamic of his relationship with you. pairing: bakugou x reader x kirishima wc: 1.6k content warnings: smut mdni, threesome dynamics, fem!reader, dirty talk, degradation, voyeurism, oral, m!receiving, kirishima's raging size kink
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Plap plap plap -
"Oh god, Kats..."
It should be fucking illegal for walls to be this thin, Kirishima thinks, staring up at his ceiling, willing his dick to soften. This is the fifth night in a row that he’s heard your guts getting rearranged by his best friend, and it’s starting to take a toll on the pro hero.
“Yeah, baby? Too much for ya?”
A soft groan emits from Kirishima’s throat at the high-pitched whine you make in response.
It’s not gentlemanly of him at all, but he pictures how gorgeous your face must look right now, mouth hanging open, eyes rolled up in your head—
"Not enough," he hears you shoot back.
He slams the pillow over his face and rolls onto his belly, rutting his dick across the mattress in one long drag.
Fuck.
When he first heard you two have sex, he really tried to do the respectable thing and not listen, he swears. When noise-canceling headphones didn't cut it, he went on long walks the minute you and Bakugou disappeared behind closed doors. It’s made for some very awkward late-night convenience store runs.
He lifts the pillow from his face. No noises sound from next door. He sighs. Time to address the raging cockstand in his pants, then.
The fantasy he conjures is familiar, well-worn. He starts in the middle this time, at the part where you’re already gagging on his dick, eyes welling with tears as be bullies his cock down your throat.
Kirishima grabs the lube from his nightstand and coats his palm. His hips buck into his hand as he works himself up and down, idly wondering how much of him you'd be able to take. He hates it, but the thought of your face scrunching up as you struggle to fit him all the way in shreds his sanity to ribbons.
"Kiri?" your voice sounds through the door while his hand is mid-stroke on his cock.
It’s like he summoned you.
"Yeah?" Even that minor syllable sounds like he’s fucking drugged.
"Can I come in please?"
His eyes bug out of his head. Are you fucking serious?
"Just a minute!" he shouts, shucking up his sweatpants and toweling off the mess between his thighs.
He hears Bakugou’s voice next. "Just let us in, idiot, she’s gotta ask you something."
Shit.
Shit shit shit shit—
He’s gonna die tonight. You’re probably outside thinking he’s a digusting pervert, in here fucking jerking off to you—what was he thinking?
Apparently not even the panic can make his dick cooperate though. He tucks it into the waistband of his pants and prays for a swift end.
When he opens the door, he expects to dodge a punch. But you’re standing there in a see-through red teddy, and all semblance of thought goes out the window.
“Did you finally hear me this time, Kiri?”
Huh?
He’s pretty sure he just splutters. Bakugou barks out a laugh behind you. "Told you this dummy was in denial, pretty girl."
His brain stumbles. "You wanted me to hear?"
You let out a husky giggle that goes straight to his groin. If possible, he gets harder.
"I like how you watch me, Kiri," you admit, eyes darting to his lips. His mouth goes dry. "I keep thinking about how you’d touch me."
He balls his hands into fists at his side to keep from hauling you onto his bed. "This is something you two have talked about?"
Bakugou has the audacity to look annoyed. "Doesn’t take a fuckin’ genius to figure it out. You’re always starin’ at her. Besides," he runs a hand straight down your back; you shiver and lean back into him. "Can’t deny this sweet thing much."
The good thing about being a pro hero is that you learn to adapt to situations quickly. Kirishima's brain is spinning with this new information, but he’s reacting before he realizes it, hand reaching out for your waist.
Your nipples tighten—he wants his tongue on them, sucking through the lace. He looks to Bakugou, but the man’s just sauntering into the room, settling into the desk chair with his legs kicked out, gray sweatpants tented.
“Go on, then.” He palms his cock. “Make her feel good like you’ve been wanting.”
Kirishima doesn’t need to be told twice. He picks you up and arranges you both on the bed, your thighs draped over his hips. You’re soaking wet; he can feel the slick dripping from your pussy fall on his stomach.
He’s so hard it hurts.
You’re not much better off, whimpering and rutting in his lap like a bitch in heat.
"Touch me, Kiri, please," you say, nosing at his neck and sucking on his pulse point. "Need your big hands on me."
God, you even beg cute.
His hands span up your back, pressing your tits into his chest and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You groan into his mouth, hands tangling in his hair, tugging at the strands.
"Wild little thing, aren’t you, baby?" Kirishima chuckles when you glare at him. "No judgment here, I fucking love it. Been listenin' to you long enough to have an idea of how you like it."
He looks over at Bakugou. "You just gonna watch?"
"Gotta make sure you do it right, Shitty-hair," he grits out, fist moving up and down. “Ya already need me to step in?”
Kirishima laughs under his breath. "Fuck you too, asshole." He cradles your face in one hand, tilting your lips up to his. "Come here, princess, let me see how hard I can make you cum, huh? Harder than he does?"
One breath against your clit and you’d probably scream for him right now. He can't help but puff out his chest a little at the thought.
Clothing comes off in a flurry. Every inch of skin exposed is a fucking godsend, more for him to touch, to caress.
When his cock bobs in between your bodies, he swears your mouth goes slack.
"Oh, Kiri," you breathe out, wrapping your hands around him. "You didn’t tell me you had such a pretty dick.” He chokes and rolls his hips into your fist. "You’re big, too. I don’t know if you’ll fit all the way."
He grunts. "Fuck baby, you can’t say shit like that to me, drives me fuckin’ crazy—"
The smile you give him is sinful. "I know." You shut him up by undulating your hips, sliding your pussy folds along the head of his cock.
"She's a little brat, Kiri, don't be afraid to put her in her place," Kirishima hears Bakugou say in the background. His voice is strained, husky. Both of you moan at the sound.
"Is that right, princess?" He nips at your mouth. "You think I'll give you whatever you want?"
You nod, the sweetest whine falling from your lips as he starts to inch his dick inside your quivering hole. You're so tight it's like your pussy can't decide if it wants to suck him in or spit it out.
"Stay fucking still," he growls, hold fast and hard on your hips. You squeal at his tone, gasping as he stretches you open, working the tip in and out.
Your hands scrabble at the sheets, his forearms, anything. He just holds you in place as your cunt gets sloppier and sloppier, lewd squelching noises filling the room.
"Kiri please just fuck me. Please, I've been thinking about it for weeks now—"
Bakugou kneels on the side of the mattress.
"You're mouthy tonight, baby. All because you're showing off for him?" He taps the side of your mouth. "Let's put that mouth to better use, yeah?"
If Kirishima wasn't about to bust his load, he sure as fuck is now, watching you greedily suck his best friend's dick as he works his into your sopping wet core.
When he finally bottoms out, the sound you make is pornographic, throat stuffed up with dick, humming out your pleasure...
"God that's so fucking hot, baby, look at you." He sets a rough, steady pace. Your tits bounce as your throat works to take Bakugou. Drool trickles down your chin; he wipes it away and squeezes your neck. It's driving him crazy, watching your tongue and lips work in tandem. "Takin' dick so well, there's a good girl."
Bakugou has a tight grip on the headboard, veins straining in his neck.
"Fuckin' hell, I'm close. Pinch her clit, Eiji, that'll make her cum quick. Get her there for me, let me see her fuckin' scream."
Kirishima rolls your bud between his fingers, and sure enough, your pussy starts clamping down on him. His rhythm gets erractic, wild. All he can think about is the sticky wet rush of slick between your legs, your channel milking his cock like you'd been waiting for weeks for it—
Bakugou slides out of your mouth with an obscene pop, spitting into his palm. "Dirty little slut, love getting used, don't ya?"
Kirishima keeps working your clit, dick jumping inside you. "There's our pretty girl, doing so well. Where do you want me to cum, honey? Can I cum here?"
He presses down on your tummy and pinches your clit at the same time. Slick gushes out of you.
"Cum in her, Kiri," he hears Bakugou bark out, hand speeding up. "I'll clean it up later, just wanna see you both cum with your dick in her."
It's embarassing, but that's really all he needs to hear before he's coming the hardest he ever has, cock twitching and pumping seed into you as Bakugou spends onto your tits.
Your own orgasm takes you over, bowing your back off the bed, mouth hanging open as incoherent babble falls from your lips. Kirishima fucks you through it, each small tremor of your subsequent orgasms like jolts of lightning.
He's pretty sure he knows the answer when he asks, "We get to do that again, right?"
You look at Bakugou, who just smirks. "Won't get rid of us that easily."
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taglist: @luleck, @yesshayhere @grim-reapers-wife @dai-png @burgvndy
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alltheprompts · 3 days ago
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Dp x DC prompt #13 (yay lucky number!)
What if Danny is introduced to the family not as a gremlin, but as his friend from community College and he is so freaking normal that it makes the entire family suspicious. The only reason Jason decided to bring him along is that he knows Danny seems too normal for their cohort and it will utterly freak out Bruce and Tim, confuse Grayson and set off Damian. Jason though, he knows Danny is only normal for the first few times of interaction, then he starts getting weird even by Bat Family standards.
Jason: Hey. I brought my friend from campus tonight.
Danny: Hi! Nice to meet you!
Bat family: *suspicious eyes* Nice to meet you.
Danny: I totally didn't believe Jason when he said he was one of 5 kids but he proved me wrong. Lol.
Bat family: How'd you meet Jason?
Danny: OH! He's been tutoring me in English class and I've been helping him with Calculus. We met at the library when I was trying but failing to type a paper and ended up irritating him with my groaning. He walked right over asked me to shut up and I apologized and said I was having difficulty *insert English homework here* and he had a look utter disgust and surprise and said "how the fuck are you having problems with that?"
Jason: I was disgusted. That was such an easy topic.
Danny: For you maybe! Anyways I said "Well if it's so fucking easy, explain it to me. And he did! With way better clarity then my professor. So I thanked him and asked what I could do in exchange for help. He then told to stay fucking quiet o he can work on his stuff. And we went on about our business. A week later we were both back in the library again and he was banging his head, so I went over and asked if he was okay and he yelled to leave him alone and he just as I was about to leave I noticed he was working on calculus and told Jim I could help if he wanted. He looked at me like I was insane.
Jason: I was cause you are. Most people don't ask to help after being yelled and cursed at.
Danny: But you had helped me on my english paper! I wanted to return the favor! This happened a few more times before it became normal to meet at the library and work together!
The batfamily is reeling at this strangely normal and meet cute type story and the fact that Jason was going to college and nobody knew somehow (Alfred knew).
After meeting Danny, they stalk him to see if he was acting normal or trying to mess with Jason or Jason manipulated someone normal to mess with them. The first while Danny seems perfectly normal and innocent but after a while they start getting a feeling of something off about Danny like he was both him and not. They also notice that Jason tends to stay calmer when he is around Danny. As they realize he is weird and they slowly figure it out, they actually get less anxious about Danny. As someone not quite normal or human in Danny's case was far more comforting for them then anyone of them managing to befriend an actual normal civilian with no apparent baggage or extreme homelife. A
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heestoleurgirl · 2 days ago
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sim jaeyun 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which riki broke up with you, leaving you devastated and depressed. that is, until you get drunk on a night out, and somehow find yourself in his best friend's bed.
genre: angst, smut (pwp) pairing: ex's best friend!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut, MDNI!! wc: 5k
A/N: why am i writing jake smut, im not even jake biased
masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ
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21 days. 21 days since your boyfriend, riki, broke up with you. everyone said it would get easier to deal with over time, and you knew they were right, but you still felt like shit every hour of every single day.
anywhere you looked, you'd just get reminded of him and have flashes of unwanted memories in your mind. it felt like absolute torture. yes, this had been your first serious relationship and you loved him so much, of course you were upset (to say the least).
the worst part was that you still saw him every now and then on campus, which only made your heart ache more. especially when he happened to be around his girl friends. you knew it was just irrational jealousy but that didn't stop you from getting nauseous at the sight.
જ⁀➴ more under the cut!
one thing was for certain: you couldn't keep going like this, you were extremely exhausted from feeling so miserable 24/7. crying all the time was getting old, and rotting in bed forever didn't seem like a good long term solution. so, you had a totally mature and genius idea that would definitely not make things worse in any way. there was a house party being hosted by someone you knew, it would be the perfect place to get drunk and forget about your ex. even if it's just for one night.
your friends had already been nagging you to go, knowing your current state and how you barely left your house unless it was absolutely necessary. they were worried for you and missed your radiant aura. minhee was convinced she'd find you a hot guy that would help you move on. yeah, you knew that wouldn't work as simple as that, it wasn't easy to simply forget someone you loved with your whole heart and dated for quite a while. but at least you could give it a try, right?
fast forward to friday, you sat on the carpet in front of the body length mirror in your room, attempting to do your makeup. truth be told, it's been a while since you made yourself look so glamorous, which made it all the more difficult to get ready. every fibre of your being was screaming at you to just stay home and cry yourself to sleep while watching rom coms. but you pushed through, forcing yourself to stay on track with your plans and also not let down your friends who were there for you.
the faint sound of a honk broke you out of your thoughts, causing you to grab your belongings and waddle down the stairs in a dress that was shorter than you were comfortable with. your friend karina had gotten it for you a while ago, and you felt bad for never wearing it since then.
"looking good y/nnie!" minhee smirked and jokingly whistled as you managed to navigate yourself in to the passenger seat of her car.
all you could do was roll your eyes and playfully nudge her shoulder. "shut up"
she wiggled her brows in response before shifting gears and taking off to pick the other girls up too. you'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous about tonight, and feeling some form of regret. you could only pray and hope that riki wouldn't be there, or you'd definitely drown yourself in the pool without a second thought.
following your excited and chatty friends up the stairs felt strangely like walking towards your impending doom. you stuck close to minhee, who unsurprisingly immediately made her way to the drinks. not like you minded, because there was no way you were surviving this night without any alcohol.
the unknown mix of drinks burned your throat as you swallowed it, not really bothering to be sensible. before you knew it, you were on the dance floor with your friends, laughing and singing along to the songs blasting from the speakers. even if it was due to the alcohol, finally having a smile on your face was really refreshing. karina seemed to notice, who flashed you a grin and tugged you closer as the two of you were dancing like there was no tomorrow.
as the night went on, you gradually lost yourself to the alcohol that was now buzzing in your veins. you didn't feel like yourself at all, but in the best way possible. anyone would be able to tell that you were completely out of it by now.
you had no idea where your friends had disappeared off to, and somehow you found yourself not caring. while you were busy pushing past people with no particular destination in mind, you accidentally bumped into someone.
"woopsies, silly me!" you giggled drunkenly, looking up to see who it was. your heart did a backflip when you managed to recognize the face staring back at you.
"no worries darling." you knew that aussie accent way too well. standing right in front of you was jake, riki's best friend. honestly you were just relieved that it wasn't riki himself.
"oh, hi jake." you stumbled a bit and grabbed onto his arm for support. he merely looked down at you in amusement, finding the blush on your cheek quite cute. his eyebrow shot up subtly, eyeing the revealing dress that was definitely out of chatacter for you. despite that, you looked undeniably gorgeous like always.
jake's hand moved to your waist casually, acting as a stabilizer so you wouldn't fall over. normally, you would've felt awkward in a situation like this, but now you weren't even phased.
"you look like you've had one too many drinks, hm?" he leaned closer to speak, so you'd hear him over the loud music. your hands instinctively tightened around his arm.
"i-i'm fine..." you mumbled stubbornly, even though it was obvious you were close to collapsing right there on the spot.
"are you here alone? where are your friends?" if you were sober, you definitely wouldn't have missed the slight concern laced with his voice.
"uhmm... i dunno!" you grinned sheepishly at him, still pressed against his arm. "i think they ditched me"
you had no idea when or how you lost them, so his guess was as good as yours. "i was just about to leave anyway. can't leave a pretty thing like you drunk and alone"
before you knew it, jake was dragging you out of the party along with him. you weren't exactly sure what was going on, but even in your state you knew that you trusted him. after all, he was your ex's best friend, you'd known him for a while.
jake guided you into his bedroom, sitting you down on his bed and looking down at you, as if contemplating something. now that you were actually here, in his apartment, he wasn't sure if this was the right decision. but what else could he do, leave you at the party when you were completely shitfaced? absolutely not.
he kneeled down in front of you and carefully took one of your legs in his hand, removing your heel with the upmost precision. the other one was discarded too, letting your feet feel relieved from being squished together all night.
you were quiet now, past your drunken giggling and just zoning out, having no clue where you were. he almost laughed at the sight. he'd never seen you so vulnerable and adorable.
"stay here, i'll bring you some water" he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. true to his words, he returned with the water in one hand, and a pill in the other.
you watched with glossy eyes as he sat down next to you and gently guided the glass to your lips. you obeyed, feeling refreshed by the cold liquid. he gave you the pill next, urging you to swallow it. "this will make your headache more bearable tomorrow"
a quiet hum left your lips as you followed his instructions, then set the glass aside on his nightstand. your movements were still uncoordinated and messy, making him chuckle.
"you tired, pretty?" jake examined your droopy eyes, you looked so cute he had to hold himself back from smothering you in affection.
the first time jake saw you, he had felt starstruck. if he could go back in time, he definitely wouldn't have fumbled you so bad. he was a coward, he waited too long and suddenly you were dating his best friend. despite all his attempts to get rid of his attraction towards you, nothing seemed to work in his favour. you were quite literally the only girl he couldn't have, and ironically enough also the only one he wanted. but of course, he was respectful of your relationship with riki and was good at hiding his feelings towards you, he'd never let his jealousy be the reason he fell out with his best friend.
so here you were, sitting in his bed, drunk off your ass and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why you'd drink so much. he wasn't sure how riki would react if he knew the situation he was in right now. he chose to push that thought aside and focus on you.
when you didn't answer his question, he spoke again, "you can sleep in my clothes, yeah?"
you nodded and stood up, letting him help you make your way to the bathroom. As he was closing the door, he added one more thing. "if you need any help, just shout for me."
it was quite difficult to get your dress off, but you managed somehow. all your limbs felt weak and heavy, and you were still disoriented, though you were able to change without falling over or breaking anything. jake's shirt swallowed your small frame comfortably, and you smiled faintly at the smell of his cologne lingering on the fabric. your mind was a jumbled mess of feelings as you returned, seeing him scrolling his phone, also in a more comfortable set of clothes.
he looked up and smirked at you, his eyes shamelessly travelling down your body as he took in the sight of you. to him, you'd never looked hotter. the combination of your messy hair and his shirt stopping by your mid-thighs was enough to make his head spin. he had to remind himself that you were drunk, and no matter how badly he wanted you he couldn't take advantage of you in this state.
seeing him pat a spot on the bed, you didn't need much convincing to climb under the covers and rest your head on a pillow. once again, you were welcomed with his scent, causing you to feel strangely comforted.
jake stood up and gave you one last look, making sure you were laid on your side so you wouldn't accidentally hurt yourself by choking on your tongue.
"where are you going?" you asked tiredly, opening your eyes to see him by the door of his bedroom.
"i'm sleeping on the couch." he raised a brow, surprised to see you sit up in the bed after just getting comfortable. your next words made him wonder if he was hallucinating.
"come back, i don't want to be alone"
your quiet, pleading voice was simply impossible to resist. how could he say no, when you were looking at him with literal puppy eyes? he sighed, and following a moment of hesitation he climbed into bed next to you. it's not like he didn't want to sleep next to you, god he would give anything to experience this. but he wasn't sure how long he could control himself when you were in his bed, looking like an angel.
for a few minutes, the room was filled with heavy silence as the two of you simply stared at each other. you admired his face, the dim lighting only adding to the tension slowly filling the air. you'd never really noticed just how pretty he was before. his round, brown eyes seemed so welcoming.
"jake..." you almost whispered his name, with nothing specific in mind. you just wanted to end the silence between you, it felt too tense.
"hm?" his eyes never left yours, studying your face as if you were the most interesting thing in the world. the longer you looked at him, the more your heart seemed to race.
"i... i don't know"
"what's wrong?" jake studied your glossy eyes, wondering why you were suddenly acting so emotional. his heart clenched at the sight of you nearly crying. he longed to pull you close and kiss you until you were smiling again.
"i don't know, i just..." you struggled to find words to express how you felt, especially with the alcohol still lingering in your system. there was so much you wanted to say, but you knew better than to break down in his bed when he'd been kind enough to bring you home with him safely. "...i don't wanna be alone. i hate the silence, i hate feeling everything and nothing at the same time i-"
suddenly you felt his finger wiping a stray tear from your cheek, one you haven't even noticed falling. there it was, that familiar heavy feeling in your heart. the one you were so sick of feeling, all you wanted was for it to go away.
you didn't really think before scooting over and hugging jake's larger frame. your face was buried in his neck, a good way to hide your tears as well as your embarrassment. his warmth felt intoxicating and you clutched his shirt like you were afraid he'd disappear.
jake didn't hesitate to welcome your hug and return it, he was more than happy to be your shoulder to cry on. seeing you in such a state made him realize just how emotionally drained you'd been since the breakup happened, he silently cursed riki for not taking care of you properly.
you felt like this was the first time someone had properly hugged you in weeks, which didn't help the overflowing emotions you were already experiencing. you clinged to him as if he was your lifeline, your only hope. there was no way you could explain the way his entire presence and embrace was more comforting than anything you'd felt in a while.
maybe you were delusional, but being in his arms like this made you feel all the more attracted to him. letting your guard down was something you rarely ever did, even with your most trusted friends. yet here you were, silently crying in jake's bed and confessing how lonely you felt as of late. it felt so intimate to be vulnerable around him.
"it's okay, you're not alone. i'm here, yeah?" he murmured against your hair, rubbing your back gently in an attempt to calm you down. if he wasn't paying attention, he would've missed the subtle nod of your head.
"i'm sorry. please don't leave." you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt to feel the bare skin of his back that was practically radiating heat.
your touch caught him off guard and he almost hissed at the contact, his arms tightened around your waist. "i'm not going anywhere darling, and you have nothing to be sorry for. you've been through a lot and you just need some love"
yeah, you did need love. you felt guilty, a part of you still yearned for it to be riki who gave you the love you wanted so badly. but he was gone now, no matter how much you cried over it the past won't change. the more rational part of your brain was constantly urging you to move on and accept the fact that riki doesn't love you anymore. you swore the mixed emotions were going to drive you insane, if they haven't already.
but right now, even if it wasn't what you wanted, jake was what you needed. if only you knew the true extent of how much he cared for you.
jake's hands paused against your back when he felt the soft press of your lips against his neck. it surprised him so much that he couldn't help but wonder if he was imagining things. but no, he felt it yet again. "fuck, angel... don't do that" he struggled to speak properly.
"why not?" you pulled away a bit to examine his face, searching for signs of any discomfort, or maybe disgust. you just wanted to shower him in affection to show him how grateful you felt to be here with him right now. to be able to sleep in his bed and cry in his arms to your heart's extent.
he wasn't sure how to explain the reason he didn't want you to kiss him right now, and you were completely oblivious to his internal struggle.
"you're still tipsy, and emotional..." jake brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, "i'm not going to take advantage of your state." he was being so sweet to you, it was almost annoying. yes, you were still not entirely sober but you couldn't deny the overwhelming urge to be... close to him.
so instead of replying, you leaned closer and pecked his cheek, causing jake to groan aloud. how could he possibly restrain himself when the girl he was whipped for was acting like this? he cupped your jaw with one hand and pulled your face closer, placing his lips onto yours with one swift motion.
your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed back as if you had done this a million times before. it felt so natural, and you were becoming lightheaded from how perfectly your lips felt against each other. previously you'd been worried that kissing someone would feel wrong, and you thought you'd imagine you were kissing riki instead, but right now there wasn't a single thought about him in your mind. all you could focus on was how good it was.
jake felt like he was losing his mind more every second he continued to kiss you. he didn't care how needy he might be coming off, cause fuck he'd wanted to this for months. never in a million years did he anticipate it would actually happen, in this context no less.
the kiss grew more heated as you moved your hands from his back to feel up his defined abs, relishing how supple and warm his skin was. at the same time, jake had a hand cupping your cheek, while the other one slid down to your waist, dipping under the shirt you were wearing. the feeling of your bare skin under his fingertips was absolutely euphoric. safe to say, neither of you were thinking about how right or wrong this might be at the moment. all your thoughts were out the window and you were entirely immersed in his company.
he didn't hesitate for a second when he realized you were tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently demanding its removal. the t-shirt was tossed aside, landing somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. your eyes widened as you were met with the sight of his bare upper body, you had to hold yourself back from practically drooling at the view. jake noticed your lustful gaze and couldn't help but smirk to himself. he pulled you closer and kissed you briefly before whispering in your ear lowly, "your turn."
he didn't leave you time to respond, tugging your shirt over your head. the action made you blush a bit, but you lifted your arms to help him remove the item of clothing. faint goosebumps littered your skin due to the sudden loss of heat, mixed with the tension in the air.
your hands landed on his chest, you took a moment to look into his eyes before inching closer and placing your lips on his for the nth time. the passion was halted for a moment, leaving room for the kiss to be more timid and soft. it didn't last for long though, soon enough it turned needy once again.
jake sat up without warning and pulled you into his lap snugly by your waist. your legs landed on either side of his thighs as you made yourself comfortable and wrapped your arms around his neck. his half lidded eyes and lazy grin made your heart skip a beat. for a second you felt stunned, an overwhelming sense of need filled you. he didn't miss the way your gaze travelled down his bare body once again, it sent a strange kind of satisfaction through him.
his lips found their way down from your jaw to your neck, peppering it with soft kisses. a quiet groan left his throat as you thread your fingers through his dark brown hair. the playful kisses turned into gentle nips and bites, jake couldn't resist leaving a few pretty marks along your porcelain skin.
your hushed gasp was a contrast to the mostly quiet atmosphere as his hands had somehow ended up squeezing your backside. the action caused you to arch your back instinctively, making you grind against him.
"fuck." he whispered, gently guiding your hips in his lap. the slight friction was intoxicating.
"jake..." his name left your mouth in a quiet whisper as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, letting your urges get the best of you.
"i know, baby" his hands slid lower to caress your inner thighs tenderly. he tried not to moan as his hips pushed upward involuntary, amplifying the friction between you, while his boxers were becoming increasingly tight as his arousal strained against the fabric.
your lips found his once more, you were getting more desperate by the second and your mind was consumed purely with need for him. the material of his sweatpants felt soft under your fingers as you tugged subtly.
jake's breath hitched and his resolve crumbled almost immediately. he was a gone man, there was no going back now. breaking the kiss and muttering a quiet curse, he shoved his sweats and boxers down his hips in one swift motion. the rest was kicked off carelessly, leaving him completely bare under you. his hard length stood heavy against his stomach, flushed and leaking.
the sight made you want to faint on the spot, you had been so caught up chasing your lust and now it all felt real. you were still hovering on your knees, having lifted your hips to let him remove his remaining clothes.
but jake didn't plan on waiting around while you admired his erection, in a quick motion he flipped you over, pushing you against the pillows as he hovered above you. the view he had right now was almost enough to make him cum on the spot: you laid beneath him, sprawled out with messy hair and slightly swollen lips. not to mention some red marks he's left on your neck earlier (they definitely weren't the last either).
"you're so gorgeous, it's unfair."
before you knew it, he was kissing your shoulder, distracting you from the way his hand slid under your lacy panties. the gasp that left your lips was enough to let him know that you were surprised to feel his finger trail along your folds. god you were so wet he groaned out loud, opting to suck on your neck to keep himself quiet.
your arms darted to wrap around his neck once more as you felt him slide a finger into you. a broken moan left your lips, you bucked your hips into his hand, wanting to feel more of him.
"fuck, pretty, you're soaked" he murmured, his voice somewhat strained as he held himself back from shoving himself in fully and fucking you until you passed out.
"jake-" you couldn't speak properly even if you tried, especially not when another finger was pushed into you with ease. it was completely out of your control how your walls clenched around his diligently working fingers. "please..."
he could tell you were growing impatient and he knew exactly what you were asking for. as much as he longed to tease you and make you squirm under him as much as possible, his own arousal was consuming him whole.
after a few more pumps of his fingers, he pulled them out, earning a quiet whimper from you. he couldn't hold back a smirk, there was nothing that turned him on more than seeing you all desperate and needy for him, like you'd die if he didn't fill you up immediately. jake was pretty sure he'd never been as hard as he was right now in his entire life.
your panties were practically ripped off, not that you minded because that was the least of your concerns at the moment. you were completely focused on how jake grabbed your thighs and nudged them apart to position himself at your entrance.
he rubbed his tip against your aching clit, coating himself in your wetness and teasing you at the same time. "is this what you need doll? want me to fill you up?" he asked, his voice was low and laced with desire even with the obvious rhetorical question. he nudged inside, not giving you the full length yet as he moved his hands all over your body.
"yes! please jake, i need you" you whined shamelessly in response, tugging him closer with your hands on his back. there was no room for embarrassment, especially when you knew how much he was getting off from your begging.
he grunted in satisfaction at your response, pushing inside slowly until his hips pressed against yours. your gummy walls were tight and inviting, sucking him in with no effort. if jake thought he was close to losing it completely earlier, he was not ready for this moment. his entire body was tingling, senses heightened yet his brain completely gone, unable to form coherent thoughts.
"so good for me, i knew you could take it" he soothed your faint whimpers with a kiss on your forehead.
your eyes were glossy from the immense pleasure you felt with him just being buried to the hilt. the stretch was perfect, he filled you up perfectly without causing any pain.
after a moment of panting and moans, jake started to rock his hips, thrusting into you slowly. he wasn't sure how long he'd last with you being so perfect for him in every way.
"holy fuck..." he closed his eyes for a moment, desperate to keep himself together in favour of your pleasure and comfort. your soft moans and gasps didn't help his case one bit.
you couldn't stay quiet even if you tried, he was bringing you so much euphoria you swore you would explode. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he sped up his movements, pushing as deep as possible. "fuck, jake..."
"so vocal for me" he hummed against your ear, his breath tickling your skin and giving you goosebumps yet again, only heightening the growing pleasure. as he continued to thrust into you, his hand left your waist to grap one or your hands and hold it down against the mattress, fingers intertwining naturally.
a sudden pain shot through his body in result of your nails digging into the skin of his back, altering between scratching and holding on. but the feeling only turned him on more, urging him to pound into you even faster.
"you're doing so well angel, shit" jake knew he wouldn't last much longer, so he was very relieved to feel you squirm and clench around his dick.
"it's so much..." you muttered between moans, your senses were flooded and overwhelmed by now. you swore you could see stars every time you felt his tip push against your cervix, his movements were painfully precise. "i'm close, jake"
you calling his name out so sweetly was music to his ears. he kissed your cheek and spoke in a strained voice yet again, "me too, you gonna come for me princess? hm?"
it was a miracle that you even lasted this long, your adamant nods were only seconds prior to you clamping down on him hard. a mix of a moan and grunt was heard from jake as he let go of your hand to wrap his arms around your waist instead.
with a few more sloppy thrusts, his climax was just behind yours. his hair was tugged and you squeezed your legs tightly as his hips jerked. you were filled up by ropes of his thick seed, making your eyes roll back from the pleasure completely and moan his name like a prayer.
both your bodies were moulded against each other, only disrupted occasionally with your light squirms. jake stroked your hair gently, holding onto you like he was afraid you would disappear. after a few peaceful moments, he carefully pulled out and grabbed a clean tissue to help you clean up.
once you were both under the cover again, he didn't waste any time to pull you against his chest. "i'm here, i won't leave." he whispered sweet reassurances to you, caressing any part of you he could reach. you practically melted into his arms completely, his presence was beyond comforting for your exhausted self.
you muttered against his warm skin quietly, "thank you"
"for what?" he smiled sweetly, even though you couldn't see his face. here you were, thanking him when you had been the one to give him the best experience he could ever ask for.
"taking care of me."
"i would never neglect my baby."
his words were enough to paint a soft smile onto your tired face. it didn't take long for you to drift into a peaceful sleep, especially when you were cuddled up to him so snugly. jake's heart swelled at how cute you looked in his arms. he couldn't ask for more, all he'd wanted was to take care of you and he finally got the chance, he wasn't going to hesitate or be a coward with you ever again.
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a/n: so. i just wanted to try out writing smut but this is gonna be my first and last time because WTFF IS THIS LMAO
i'm sticking to smaus i can't write for the life of me
songs for this fic:
tags:@vivimura@s1rawb3rry@who-tf-soddhi@laurradoesloveu@p1hbrook@hoonielvv@nodoubtily@enhamonsterghoul@heebambilee@en-chantedtomeetyou@hsbae@jellyluv4eva@vivissection@beigerin@jwywife@elairah@heekilrvs@jayjw16enxp@lakoya@ijustreallylike2read@annovaz@strawberrynull@abbyeey@celestiai0@enhalxvr@llearlert@raizennloll@rizzmura@sabriochee@sol3chu@fluveriiez@kitty-won07@sucrosxi@kukkurookkoo@mimisxs@darquette@hhyvsstuff@lovelydeliciousfestival@luciathcv@bigwforjay@pshfan0812@lov4hoon@jaerisdiction@kireiinahana@abzyissupersleepy@madslove-enhypen@b3tt7boop@dodot04lover@ki2rins@sugarikiz ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ
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1d1195 · 1 day ago
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Pucking Rookie I
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~8.4k words
From me: here she is. gonna be at least one more part (probs 2) sorry. I didn't mean to do a series. I just can't shut up and I introduced too many fun characters. I don't know a lot about hockey so a lot of this is probably unrealistic.
Warnings: douchey ex-boyfriend, a little violent (it's hockey after all)
Summary: When the assistant coach's niece comes to take pictures of the team, her lens isn't the only thing capturing Harry Styles heart and soul on and off the ice. Harry wants to win her over more than he wants to win the entire league championship. (Although it would be nice to rub it in her ex's stupid face if he won that too).
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The rink was chilly even with the appropriate clothes on. Despite the fact she practically lived in ice arenas for the two years, it never ceased to catch her off guard with how cold it was. To be fair, she was a lot closer to the ice this time around. Her camera pressed into the little glass cutout, her eye checking the visual before she clicked the shutter.
Quickly she pulled away as two of the guys pressed against the glass right next to her. “Hey Sweetheart,” Noah Ashford smiled briefly as he skated off in the other direction. She rolled her eyes. Uncle Charlie, assistant coach of The Arctic Chargers, warned the entire team that his niece was taking residence at the rink and would be part of media photos, headshots, and would be submitting to all major sport reporting outlets. The team was told without question, not to bother her in any way.
Naturally the group of twenty twenty-something year-old hockey players were going to do nothing of the sort.
Captain Evander Langston swished almost gracefully over to her. He stopped in front of her with a puff of ice at his feet. “Do you think I have a good side?”
She shook her head with a smirk and looked over the photos she just took in the last three minutes. “Probably not the left. You’ve been checked into the board over there about five times this practice alone.”
He put a hand on his chest. “Sweetheart, you wound me.”  Sweetheart was the name Uncle Charlie called her in front of the whole team during the introduction and so it was the only thing any of them paid attention to from their coach. “Don’t say that in front of the others,” he pleaded quietly.
“I would never, Cap,” she smiled kindly.
He returned her grin with his own. “You call me Cap, and I’m going to have a problem with Coach’s rule, Sweetheart. But I know we’re all going to like having you around to keep us in check.”
“Lang, you better not be flirting when your technique needs work!” Kian Calloway shouted across the ice where he slapped a puck into the open net from the blue line.
“You better not be flirting, period, Lang!” Uncle Charlie called.
“Yeah!” Callie repeated to his captain. She had gone over the nicknames with her uncle before starting. Lang, Asher, and Callie were easy and as some of the major stars of the team, it made sense she would chat with them most. “If anyone is going to flirt with her, it’s going to be me!”
“I’ll sit you for less, Callie,” Charlie warned.
She couldn’t help but laugh. But she didn’t mind the attention nor care. It was adorable. Like a group of puppies looking for attention. With a shake of her head, she made her way around the glass and boards for another angle of the players on the ice. She wanted shots of the goalie. Niall Horan seemed much too nice to be a hockey player but perhaps that’s why he was the goalie. He was the first one to introduce himself and he didn’t seem to have the temper that the other players did over trivial things (like tying skates together or putting salt in someone’s Gatorade). Niall blocked shots from his teammates as if it was nothing but breathing. In a way it was stunning, nearly beautiful.
Hockey was violent, yes. But there was beauty in it, too. The way players skated backwards, cupped the puck on their stick. The speed, agility, and gracefulness required to stay standing. It was all really beautiful, and she was excited to be up close this time around. For the last two years she had been in a box cheering for her ex-boyfriend, right forward for the Glacier Wolves, Kael Crowe.
To be completely honest, she should have known it wouldn’t have worked out. Among the cheating, the belittling, and all the other things that were, in hindsight, an abysmal part of dating him, the orange and blue coloring wasn’t her favorite. The Arctic Chargers black and silver jerseys were much more her speed. Kael was her boyfriend of years and years but once he made it to the majors three years ago, things were very different.
“You can come on the ice, Sweetheart, we’re almost done!” Asher said.
Even though she had dated a hockey player for nearly a decade (most of which took place during college) she couldn’t skate. Uncle Charlie tried when she was younger to teach her, but the balance and coordination was not in her wheelhouse. She longed to skate better. Figure skaters were so dainty and beautiful as they glided on the ice. She was neither of those things and almost dreaded getting on the ice in the boots she was wearing. If she fell in front of her uncle, it was embarrassing. She could only imagine how embarrassing it would be in front of an entire professional hockey team.
“One second!”
She wanted to prolong the agony. Plus, with her fragile camera it seemed like a death sentence to send her out there. Even if it was what she was getting paid to do. It wasn’t the most lucrative job she had, but it was what she wanted to do most. She was grateful for the opportunity and hoped it would kickstart into something more. Photography was a major passion for her. Pictures of anything. Her computer was filled with pictures of the sun and sky from the summer. Snowy days in the winter. Pictures of her parents’ dog. Her uncle’s kids on birthdays. She was the official photographer of family weddings and more. But it wasn’t steady. A lot of her post-college young life had been put on hold to dote on Kael. Something she regretted but couldn’t do anything about now.
Uncle Charlie was kind to help her out and she thought starting now was better than never starting at all.
“Styles is that you?!”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t piss yourselves in excitement,” the voice was right beside her.
“You better be fucking cleared before touching this rink,” Ray Wheeler, head coach and another surrogate uncle to her was a bit gruffer in his delivery to the players than Charlie most of the time.
The man beside her slapped his hand, paper held pressed to the glass. “Doctor-cleared for takeoff,” he called. A round of cheers went up and she snapped another picture of the excitement, ignoring the one and only Harry Styles beside her.
Harry Styles was Kael’s rival. The same draft class (although begrudgingly, Kael would admit Harry went first), and almost the same position—left forward. Fortunately, they were in different conferences, so they only ever played one another twice a season. Unless they made it to finals which hadn’t happened yet. But in her opinion, it was only a matter of time. Harry made headlines for his skill and ability, fitness, and overall dominance on the ice. He was protective of his best friend in goal—he and Niall were a pair like no other. Which meant when they did play each other, Kael knew exactly how to get under Harry’s skin.
“Who are you?” He asked.
Harry wasn’t here for her formal introduction to the team. Before she could open her mouth, Uncle Charlie was there. “That’s my niece Styles. She’s off limits so just make your way to the locker room.”
“Ah,” he smiled.
It should have been noted that in addition to skill and ability, fitness, and dominance on the ice, Harry was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. His eyes were green which sure as hell meant God was in fact a woman because no man would know to make Harry even more beautiful with forest green eyes. He was tall, even taller on skates. His skin glowed in a way that should have been illegal when she spent half an hour dousing her face in ten moisturizing products each night to achieve the same look and Harry spent most of his time indoors on an ice rink. Was it the chill that made his cheeks pinker? Would she get the same glow working here all season? She could only hope.
But it was that smile that did her in. His straight teeth peeking out from his lips. The dimples. The arrogance behind the expression. The pink curve of his upturned lips went right through her as he grinned at her.
“Nice t’meet you,” he held his hand out.
“Hands off!” Charlie shouted again.
Harry chuckled as she took his hand with an eyeroll introducing herself. “I’m your photo media specialist, if you will.”
“Excellent,” Harry grinned. “Let me know if y’need me t’pose a certain way,” he winked.
She shook her head and Niall skated up to the side. “Hey Sweetheart,” he said.
“Hi, baby, I missed you,” Harry answered with a grin. Niall shook his head flipping his friend off which made her giggle. Niall remained focused on her.
“Your Uncle said you might need help walking out here.”
“Oh, do we have a skating rookie on our hands?” Harry asked. Her cheeks felt hot under the assumption. Even though it was accurate.
“I suck at skating,” she shrugged. There wasn’t any use playing it off—they would know in a matter of seconds. “I get too nervous and lose my balance,” she admitted.
They both tilted their heads at her. She knew that vulnerability wasn’t something seen on the ice. It seemed almost trivial to admit, but she knew it clearly threw them for a loop. “I can walk you out,” Harry offered with that sinfully delicious smile.
“Coach said he was going to rebreak all of your fingers if you touch her."
“Oh, please let me walk you out,” Harry practically bounced with excitement.
She worried her eyes were going to remain in the back of her head from rolling them so much, but she supposed that would come with the territory with working for a group of boys. “Thank you, Niall. I should be okay. Just don’t let anyone laugh at me too much if I fall on my butt.”
“We don’t want you t’fall on such a pretty asset, Rookie. Are y’sure I can’t help?”
She ignored Harry, keeping her eyes on Niall. “No one will laugh,” he assured her, a smile toying at his lips as he slipped his helmet back on. “I offered, but she’s stubborn like you, Coach!”
The laughter that ensued was a good distraction for her to make her move. She unlocked the rink door and stepped onto the ice following behind Niall. Each step was carefully taken, knowing the traction of her winter boots were better than any other pair of shoes she owned but would never compare to the blade of skate.
Three little steps was about as far as she could go it seemed. Right as her footing was about to be lost on her and send her to the hard ice, a hand caught her elbow and kept her upright. “Rookie, love,” he tisked. “I told you I could help.”
She looked at him briefly knowing that his good looks got him any girl he wanted. She heard the rumors of the string of girls he had (perhaps one for every city he visited) and she knew of every bad thing that Kael had to say about him. But the kindness of him to catch her was sweet. Even she couldn’t deny that. Kael merely laughed each time she fell, it wasn’t mean spirited per se, but it was almost like he was glad she couldn’t skate. A way to be better than her.
God, she wished she had taken the hint a lot sooner.
Harry’s skates weren’t even tied yet. “Jus’ wait,” he said and knelt to lace them up. She had to imagine he rushed to get out here just knowing she wouldn’t make it across the ice.
Once tied, Harry held her elbow again and skated so effortlessly beside her barely moving as he glided alongside her. No one paid attention to her slow steps, and she could feel Harry’s grip firm but not hard on her arm. Almost sensing when she was going to misstep before she did. It made her heart skip a beat.
No. She couldn’t think like that. She wasn’t going to fall for another hockey player ever.
“M’teaching m’niece t’skate. I can teach you,” he shrugged. It wasn’t arrogant the way he said it. She was sure anyone else that knew she was in their mid-twenties (especially someone with a famous hockey player for an ex-boyfriend of eight years, and famous major league hockey coach for an uncle) would expect her to be able to skate. Instead, one of the top players in the league was at her elbow barely acknowledging that it was weird. Perhaps the vulnerability she mentioned to him and Niall really meant something to him. Or maybe she was just reading into it—which she definitely shouldn’t have been reading into it.
“It’s a real shame you won’t have that hand to play with after all, Harry,” Uncle Charlie shook his head.
“Don’t worry, Uncle Charlie, I can handle a group of boys,” she rolled her eyes again, earning a bout of laughter from the group. But she knew that Uncle Charlie was worried about Harry specifically. He was a lot like Kael. In another life, Harry would have been a weakness for her. But not anymore. She was done with hockey guys.
“M’jus’ making sure she doesn’t fall. Sad y’couldn’t teach her t’skate. Some uncle you are,” he shrugged casually.
The group laughed again, and she smirked. Charlie ignored the childish behavior of his players but rubbed his middle finger on his nose like he had an itch aimed for Harry “They’re all yours, Sweetheart. Just tell them where you want them. They’ve all been instructed to listen carefully unless they want to do suicides tomorrow at practice, so be honest if they don’t listen. Or lie if you see fit,” Uncle Charlie remarked making everyone groan. “Harry, go get your gear she needs individual pictures too.”
His eyes flickered to Niall for several seconds. Right as he released her arm, Niall now stood beside her and waited for direction. He didn’t hold her elbow like Harry did, but it was clear there was an unspoken message they shared telepathically. That little flutter in her chest made it’s appearance once more solely because Harry was kind to her about her inability to skate.
No, she wasn’t going to fall for it.
She wasn’t going to fall for the hot left wing of her uncle’s team just because he offered to teach her to skate and didn’t make fun of her because she couldn’t.
Nope. She wasn’t.
Not even a little.
Right?
*
The boys were decidedly sweet. Despite the fact it was like trying to wrangle a group of twenty toddlers into one spot. They sat nicely for their headshots individually, but once she tried to get them into various poses and group shots with their respective lines it proved a little more difficult. (Don’t even get her started on how the whole team shot went).
Harry stood beside her while she took pictures of everyone but him. His presence was comforting in a way she didn’t want to admit so readily. It had been less than an hour since she spoke to him. When he returned with all his gear in place, he held a small rug that the coaches often used to stand at center ice and call drills. He laid it before her feet, and she didn’t have to worry as much about falling. Niall was her test subject in front of the goal. When she wanted to get another angle, Harry scooped up the little mat and held her elbow and let her guide while he slid alongside her at a pace that was much too slow for a professional hockey player. But Harry didn’t seem to mind.
“Can I see?” He asked while the others skated around, messing around at the other end of the rink. She was now at the bench where she was safe from slipping. Harry leaned over the rail, dropping his gloves onto the wooden seat beside her. She offered her camera to him. Carefully he cradled it, like he knew it really was precious to her. Silently, he looked at the little screen. A smile grew on his face as he admired how his pictures came out. “These are awesome, Rookie.”
“Thank you,” did her cheeks feel warmer from the compliment? She smiled softly as he looked through several photos of himself. Harry Styles was lucky he didn’t have a bad side. Not that she would tell him that.
“How come y’didn’t do this for Crowe’s team?” He asked clicking through photos of his teammates.
She blinked, the smile melting from her face. “You know about me and Kael?”
“Well, yeah. S’the whole hands-off talk Coach gave us. Said you’re done with hockey players,” Harry shrugged one shoulder, his gaze focused on the lines and group shots on the screen of her camera. “Fortunately for me, I don’t consider your ex a real hockey player,” he smiled at the screen. “But I haven’t told Coach ‘bout that loophole jus’ yet.”
She snorted and shook her head. The flirty comment was cute. She could admit that. Plus, a dig at her shitty ex made her feel a little lighter. But she wasn’t going to fall for Harry’s easy-going charisma.
If she repeated it to herself enough, it would stick.
“I will not be dating real and-or imaginary hockey players,” she told him.
“At least give me a chance t’change your mind, Rookie,” he offered.
“No, thank you,” she shook her head politely. He frowned. She laughed softly. “You genuinely look down by my answer.”
“Hell yeah,” he scowled. “Y’take pretty pictures and y’wrangled this ragtag group,” he sighed almost dreamily. “And you’re absolutely beautiful t’boot.”
That made her smile, at least. He was an expert flirter. “Thank you, Harry. I appreciate that.”
“Enough t’let me take you on a date?”
“No.”
“Ugh.”
She laughed again. “Thank you for helping me around the ice,” she said graciously. “I’ll tell Uncle Charlie you were a perfect gentleman after he left.”
“Rookie, love, you’ll ruin m’reputation,” he called after her as she made her way around the rink toward the exit.
*
Her apartment was not in the nice part of town. To be fair, it was only just over the border from the nicer side. From her place she could see the bar she would be working at on the days she wouldn’t be at the rink. She hadn’t told Uncle Charlie about it because she knew he would be pissed if he saw where she lived. But it was the right price and honestly, the other tenants weren’t bad.
She suspected one of her neighbors on the first floor was... an entrepreneur... for his... small business. Michael was very wary of her at first, but she was lucky because he wore a hockey jersey the day, she met him, Callie’s number and name on the front and back. She hadn’t gone to the rink yet because she was getting a lot of her things and affairs settled. That evening she moved in, she got him tickets to a home game through her uncle (along with a dozen cookies to welcome herself to the building). To his credit, Michael looked weary that the tickets were fake, but the cookies were good. They weren’t special seats or anything, but they weren’t bad seats either. He knocked on her door the day after the game and it was clear she wasn’t going to have any issues with her neighbor. “That was cool. If you need anything, I got you,” he assured her with a grin. “That car you got, I’ll keep an eye on it for you when you’re not around... you’re too sweet to be living here.”
She smiled. “Thanks Michael.”
On the second floor lived an older couple. They kept to themselves, but she was sure to give them a dozen cookies as well and offered to shovel out their cars when it snowed. But once Michael saw her out there shoveling, he joined her as well. She brought a hockey stick autographed by the whole team for their grandson. She couldn’t wait to hear how he enjoyed that Christmas gift.
Her neighbor on the third floor just down the hall was Marcellus. He went by Marc and told her that he had a boyfriend and if she had an issue with that, it was too fucking bad. The previous tenant must have been a piece of work. She laughed at him, handed off her dozen cookies and shrugged. “If he breaks your heart, I have a team of hockey boys who can take him on,” she giggled.
So, Marc loved her too.
She wouldn’t be jogging around the neighborhood any time soon, but it was nice she wouldn’t have to worry about her car being stolen (although good luck to anyone who tried to get that piece of crap to start without a prayer), or getting robbed on her way into the building.
Inside her little studio apartment was a small kitchen. There was enough space for a small loveseat, a bed, and TV. She had a coffee table and a counter to sit at for breakfast. The bathroom was surprisingly spacious and modern for a rundown studio apartment building.
After a full day at the rink, she was chilly. A shower was just what she needed before she ventured into the cold again. Letting the hot water soothe her cold neck and back was so nice. While her hair air-dried, she transferred and then sifted through her pictures on her laptop. The edits she made were small. The lighting and shadows only needed to be adjusted a little. She loved the natural look of the of the players in their element.
She forwarded the photos to Charlie for approval, and he would send them to the higher ups for printing.
They look stunning, Sweetheart. Incredible job.
Grinning she looked over the photos she took of Harry again. He was by far the best-looking guy on the team (not that the others weren’t good-looking but alas). Even in the photos where you couldn’t see his pretty face, there was a presence that made him look more attractive. It was obvious he was a good player. His talent was evident in the photos, and she was proud of herself for being able to capture it.
There was a knock on her door. She padded quietly across the room, peeked through the peephole to see Marc, before she opened it. “Hi,” she smiled.
“You have to teach me hockey,” he said. “This man is obsessed, and I don’t even know what you call the ball.”
“Puck.”
“Exactly.” She laughed. He glanced around her apartment. “Your talents are wasted on this run-down place—holy hottie, who’s that?”
Her computer screen remained on Harry’s smiling individual photo. Dimples on full display and looking intense but happy. “That’s Harry Styles.”
“I think I’ll like hockey after all.”
Shaking her head, she sighed. “Listen, I have a shift I have to get to, but there’s a game on tomorrow afternoon, come over and we’ll watch it, and I’ll teach you,” she offered.
“Bring flashcards of the players. It’ll make me more interested.”
She tied the apron around her waist as he sifted through the photos. “God damn, is this what all hockey players look like?” He asked.
“Bye Marc,” she pulled his arm and pushed him toward her door. “See you tomorrow.”
*
The Locker Room was a local restaurant owned by Louis Tomlinson. It was a hot spot for the players to go to on off days and after a win (they refrained from going after a loss unless absolutely necessary). The fans that went were not allowed to be aggressive about the players, but after a while, they got used to seeing the players so often, it became a nice place to be themselves.
Asher and Lang were playing darts while Niall and Callie focused on a game of pool. Harry sat back sipping his beer analyzing his contacts looking for the hookup he wanted for the evening. They had curfew at midnight since there was a game tomorrow evening which left him with ample time to peruse his list, meet up with the girl, and get home by midnight before he turned into a pumpkin.
“Who’s the lucky lady tonight?” Louis asked clapping a hand on Harry’s back.
“Haven’t decided yet,” he chuckled.
“Well, when the new waitress comes over, you are not to make her uncomfortable. I already warned her.”
“I would never,” he rolled his eyes, still scanning the names.
“Uh-huh,” Louis nodded. “Of course. Tell your teammates too. She’s off limits.”
“What’s up with every new girl being off limits in our life?” Callie asked.
“Coach won’t let us date his niece and you won’t let us date the new girl,” Niall explained to Louis for clarification.
“Fortunately, it’s the same person, so you don’t have to lose out on two girls.”
Harry pulled away from his screen to admire the pretty girl he met at the rink earlier in the day. His grin grew. “Oh, Rookie, it’s you,” he cooed.
“Oh Jesus,” Louis sighed. “Watch out for that one, love,” he patted her on the back.
“So, I’ve heard,” she smiled.
“Is she ours?” Asher asked excitedly.
“As long as you don’t torture her,” Louis shrugged.
“We would never!”
“Eleanor refuses to set foot back here because of you all.”
“Hire meaner waitstaff.”
“Best of luck, love,” Louis shook his head.
“What can I get you guys?” She asked sweetly.
“Uncle Charlie doesn’t pay you enough that you have to slum it here?” Lang asked.
“I heard that!” Louis shouted.
Harry was...quite taken. From the moment he laid eyes on her. The concentration on her face as she took pictures, the way her hair was pinned up, how bundled she was. Her smile was sexy. The quips that spilt from her mouth perhaps even sexier. Harry was certain she was a dream because good things at the rink consisted of goals, interviews, and the pizza from the snack bar. Not a pretty girl with an expensive camera and his assistant coach as her uncle.
Now her hair was still pinned back, an apron tied around her waist, and the black and silver uniform as homage to his own. Harry wanted her draped in the number eleven and his name on her back ASAP.
It was cute she couldn’t skate. Cute how passionate she was on day one taking pictures. She wasn’t flustered by their rowdiness, or their annoying nature. Harry knew that she was used to hockey boys—had to be if her ex was one of the top forwards in the league (although Harry didn’t recognize that too often). He liked how she didn’t take shit from them but was still kind. She was funny, creative, and lovely.
And he only saw her in action for a short time.
But it was enough to make him put his phone away and not think about hooking up with someone tonight. His focus would be on her waiting on the team and (hopefully) getting to know her more so he could rationalize falling for someone so out of his league and someone so off limits.
“Hi Rookie, love,” Harry smiled as she approached his table. She took orders from the other four hanging around.
“Hi Harry,” she answered.
“M’happy to see you again.”
She nodded. “It’s only been a few hours, Harry.”
“S’too long t’go without seeing your pretty face,” he assured her.
She rolled her eyes, but Harry noticed how her cheeks flushed with color. “What do you want to drink?” She asked instead.
“Are you on the menu?”
“Does that work on other girls?”
“Yes.”
“It’s probably because of the hockey thing you have going on. I promise it wouldn’t work if you weren’t a professional,” she shrugged.
“Good thing m’very professional,” he continued, his voice flirty.
“I’m putting down whatever the other guys said,” she shook her head and headed off to get the drinks.
“Harry, don’t bother her. Coach said she’s off-limits,” Niall reminded him while Callie took his shot.
“Yeah, she doesn’t strike me as one-night-stand material,” Asher murmured focusing on his dart going directly into the board.
“Mmm,” Harry sighed. In the brief interaction he had with her, he kind of figured that too. In fact, given she had been with Crowe for nearly a decade, he imagined she didn’t have too much experience dating other than her ex. Not that he would force her—or any woman. Like he said they all knew what they signed up for. Harry wasn’t great at the whole relationship thing. He was constantly traveling with the team. Practice most days, games most nights. Relationships were often one-sided and tiresome. It wasn’t fair to expect someone to wait for five months of the year to have a relationship.
One-night stands were better for him.
But he could at least ask her if she was willing to try him out. God, knew he wanted to try her out the second he looked at her.
“Your drinks,” she announced setting them on Harry’s table. He eyed her as she set the drinks down from the little tray in her arm. “Do you guys want food?” She asked.
“Are you on the menu now?”
“Jesus Christ,” Lang shook his head.
“You’re embarrassing us, Styles,” Callie sighed.
“Chicken wings, you said?” She asked scribbling on the pad of paper in her hand. “Great choice. Do you want anything else?” Harry smiled, opened his mouth to speak but she turned immediately. “Not you,” she said over her shoulder and sauntered over to the pool table. Lang and Asher chuckled to themselves at Harry’s strike out.
“You’re our hero, Sweetheart,” Asher sighed dreamily.
*
When Harry was on the ice there were zero thoughts of anything but slicing up the ice with the blade of his skate. He thought about the opponent across from him. The puck sliding across the ice and into the net. Protecting Niall in goal if anyone dared to lay a hand on him.
But now when they had timeouts, or when he was waiting for the puck to come up to him, he saw the pretty girl with her camera lens pressed to the glass, or in the cut out for the press. Her little badge draped around her neck looked so cute. Everything about her was cute and dainty.
Crowe was a fucking idiot to let her go.
Which made him wonder why he chose to break up with someone so pretty and witty. Creative as well.
Fuck. Coach was going to kill him.
But she really stood her ground. In the month that she had been part of the team, she seemed damn near impervious to Harry’s flirting. Harry worked hard to make her blush (which he could see was easy) but it took a lot to make her speechless. It was obvious Crowe didn’t treat her well. It seemed like Harry’s attention to her was the only time she had been shown affection. That alone pissed him off and made him hate him more. It was like she had never been told how pretty she was. Even when Harry wasn’t actively flirting with her, when he complimented her hair or how her pictures came out, she seemed completely off-guard.
What a fucking dick.
Harry once more wondered why they broke up. He still hadn’t figured it out. There was no way she wasn’t the perfect girlfriend. Especially for a hockey player. For all the reasons Harry didn’t date, she knew precisely what she was getting into and did it anyway. But she doted on his teammates as if she was dating all of them (there was no other way to describe it.) She always had extra tape for sticks. She walked with her cross body filled with supplies for hangovers, minor injuries, and the like. When she waited on them at Louis’ place, she knew their orders and had them ready almost like clockwork for when they arrived.
“Styles!” Coach Wheeler called. “If you’re not going to practice, you can sit out!” He shouted.
Shaking his head, Harry tried to rid his mind of the team’s photographer. The coach’s niece. His pretty waitress.
The star of all his dreams as of late.
*
“Sweetheart, where do you want us?!” Lang called.
She was on the bench, waiting to take some gameday photos. Today she was wearing skates, which made Harry nervous. He knew if she went down, she would protect her precious camera and he didn’t blame her, but it he hated the thought of her getting hurt. “Just by the—” She sighed, closing her eyes mid-sentence and she put her phone to her ear. “Stop fucking calling,” she snapped and then put her phone in her pocket again. “By the goal,” she cleared her throat.
The team stared at her. “Do you have a stalker, babe?” Asher asked.
“No,” she snorted and looked at her camera. She took a test shot of the empty net to make sure everything was set. She stepped tentatively onto the ice, more graceful than the last time she did. But Harry glided over to her quickly. He didn’t touch her, but he was more than ready to catch her. She ignored his presence, not in a mean way at all. Not an ounce of her was mean. Which is why it was so surprising she had that much malice in her voice on the phone.
“Everything okay, Sweetheart?” Charlie asked.
“Yup,” she popped the ‘puh’ sound.
She slid forward very carefully. “S’kind of shooting yourself in the foot here, Rookie. Figure skates have a better blade for beginners. S’harder t’skate on hockey skates for what you’re doing.”
“Oh, I was always told a hockey blade was thicker, so it was better.”
Harry shrugged. “S’not really that big of a deal in m’opinion. Figure skates have a longer blade, better for y’balance. Charlie set y’up with those?” She shook her head.
“No,” her voice was quiet.
“You bought hockey skates on your own?”
“Can you go stand with your team?” She asked dodging his question. He frowned.
“Yeah, sorry, Rookie, love,” he skated off but whistled at his younger teammate, Garrett, the third string forward for his position. Harry tilted his head in her direction and Garrett went over to her, standing way too far away in case she did fall.
“Who got her the skates?” He mumbled to Charlie. He shrugged.
“Not sure. Probably Kael. I would imagine he got a deal from his sponsors.”
God Harry hated him.
*
Mila was someone he saw on a semi-regular basis. Which meant she knew the drill. After their win, they would do their thing. Harry would stay until she fell asleep—because he wasn’t an asshole; and he wasn’t too proud to admit that he liked cuddling. Even if it was only for a little while—and he would send a text the next day to make sure she felt okay. There was no breakfast, no awkward small talk. Just sex. There was no setup to get feelings hurt or hearts broken. Harry was too busy for a girlfriend, and he would make for a shitty boyfriend.
It was cold when he left her place, and he blew into his hands for warmth when he as he headed to his car. There was a text on his phone from an unknown number.
Thought you would want to see the picture that’s on the front page of the sports section for tomorrow :) There was an impressive picture of Harry’s game winning goal. It wasn’t time sensitive but it was the one that broke the tie. The rest of the team held off the offensive line for the remaining ten minutes of the game.
Thanks, Rookie. I’m going to send it to Mum. She’ll print it for the fridge. How’d you get my number?
Kian gave it to me. Is that alright?
Who?
Callie 🙄 You should really learn your friends’ names. Is it okay I have your number?
Of course it’s alright. Just surprised YOU asked for it. Didn’t know you would want to talk to me so bad. You could have asked me yourself.
Sorry, I think have the wrong number.
He chuckled to himself while his car warmed up. The seat heater was heaven on his stiff muscles. Harry liked the cold—he had to being a hockey player. But it was her funny wit that warmed him from the inside out. Are you all still at Louis’?
Yes. Niall and Noah are about to break the air hockey machine.
Who?
🙄 Asher. Sorry. Jesus.
I’ll be right there, Rookie.
*
The next time the team won, Harry looked at the message from Layla asking if he wanted to come over to celebrate. He didn’t really want to. The guys were headed home because they had an early flight and there was no celebrating. Which meant that the pretty girl he wanted to celebrate with wasn’t going to be out and about either. She wouldn’t be doting on his drunk teammates. Wouldn’t be stopping their stupid fights about who’s turn it was to play her in darts. She wouldn’t be making sure they all made it home safely in the Ubers she ordered.
But Harry couldn’t just hang out with her either. There was no reason. She was basically his teammate and he couldn’t figure why she was so guarded. At least not beyond whatever it was she was dealing with Crowe.
“Is he still calling?” Niall asked looking at her phone the bench while she looked at her camera. Her hair always fell so perfectly as she watched the screen.
“Who?” Lang asked.
She sighed. “It’s just Kael.”
“Why?” Callie asked.
She shrugged. “I would have to answer to find out. Which is the last thing I want to do. I need a new phone number; I just haven’t gotten around to it. My schedule conflicts with most regular business hours so I could go to the store.”
“Charlie, you can’t spare her to give her a day off?” Asher asked.
Her uncle rolled his eyes, flipped him off, and continued practicing with the second and third stringers.
Harry sat beside her and peeked over her shoulder at her photos. “Do y’have any non-hockey photos?” She nodded and picked up her phone that was still showing Crowe blowing up her phone with calls and texts. “Why don’t y’block him, Rookie?” She swiped his notification away and she opened the web browser. It was currently on a recipe for carrot cake cupcakes. “Those look good,” he smiled.
She smirked. “It’s Ray’s birthday next week. Carrot cake is his favorite. Figured I’d make you all cupcakes.”
Harry thought she was too sweet for him. Someone with a lineup of women didn’t deserve her sweetness. Someone who was meeting Arya at her place after practice because he could didn’t get a girl like her. Him meeting Nyla after tomorrow’s away game three states away didn’t get someone like the pretty photographer.
Kael’s name kept popping up. “Y’probably never had t’block anybody before,” Harry said quietly. “D’you know how?” He hoped he didn’t sound condescending. But he had the unfortunate pleasure of blocking someone every now and again.
“I know how,” she laughed softly. “It’s just... with Kael, it’s likely to be a thing, you know?” She shrugged. “It’s easier to ignore him.”
“It probably gives him hope,” Harry frowned.
She held out her phone to him and shrugged. “That’s not my problem. I’ll see him in a couple weeks when we’re up North,” she reminded him. “Hopefully by then he’ll get the message; or I’ll have to talk to him in person.”
Harry took her phone and admired the portfolio of photos she displayed for him. The website was all black making her images pop. She was so talented. There were babies and weddings. There were family portraits and just general landscape shots. All of differing but equal beauty and perfection. Natural. Lovely.
Harry swiped away Kael’s name again and clicked on the menu item of the about section.
Two side by side pictures of the pretty girl next to him were on the screen. One with the camera in front of her eye, the other a sweet smile on her face camera in front of her like a prop. Behind the Lens... Thank you for browsing. If you like what you see, I’d be happy to quote you for any need. I have experience in just about any area of photographing. Thank you for letting me part of you day!
Too sweet for someone who was going to never be able to settle down because of his job. No matter how much he wished she could be part of his day.
Kael’s stupid name popped up again. Without another rational thought, Harry answered the call, pressed the phone to his ear, and skated off knowing she couldn’t go after him.
“Finally, baby,” Kael groaned.
“STYLES HOW DARE YOU!” She screamed.
“Crowe, nice t’hear from you.”
“Who the fuck is this?” He growled.
“HARRY!” She was on the ice in her ever-present boots. They weren’t great for walking on ice. She slipped immediately but Lang was right nearby to help her up. Harry was going to feel guilty about that for ages.
“None of your business,” he shook his head. “She doesn’t want y’calling anymore.”
“What the fuck? Put her on the phone!”
“No,” Harry said defiantly. “She doesn’t want t’talk t’you. Ever. Stop calling y’piece of shit.”
Lang looked at Harry wildly as he glided with the pretty girl clutching to his arm. She smacked Harry multiple times on the arm and chest making the coaches laugh. “Give me the phone!” She snapped.
“Give her the phone!” He repeated. “Listen to her!”
“No, y’don’t deserve her,” Harry stepped out of her reach where she lost her balance as she lunged for him. She fell again catching her hands. Thank God she didn’t have her camera. Lang helped her to her feet again and Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him again. “Y’didn’t appreciate her, her talent, or anything. Y’didn’t get her the right skates, and I don’t know what y’did t’piss her off so bad, but y’not getting her back,” Harry said it so casually. But every word was meant for her.
“Is that you, Styles?” Crowe snarled.
“Bye Crowe, see you in a month!” He said cheerily handing the phone off to her.
She nearly fell again despite holding onto Lang. “What the hell, Harry!”
“I got rid of him,” he shrugged. “You’re welcome.”
Her face was beat red with embarrassment. Her hands had to be cold from the fall. But she still looked adorable as always. Even with a sour expression, she was sweet. Pretty beyond belief. Wide eyes, soft skin, even her nose was cute. She glared at him and spun on her heel. “Get me away from him,” she snapped.
Harry sighed, feeling bummed he pissed her off too much. Lang shook his head at Harry as he helped her back to the bench. She packed up her things and left.
But he couldn’t help but notice that her phone had stopped ringing.
*
She was still mad at him a week later. If she ignored his flirting before, this was an entire new level. She hardly acknowledged his presence. He missed her. In a weird way. He enjoyed bugging her, but perhaps it went to far. It was an invasion of her personal life that he wasn’t privy to, and he didn’t really have any right to deal with her ex-boyfriend.
That didn’t mean anything he said wasn’t anything but the truth.
“Hey Rookie,” he said as she entered the room to get their drink orders for the evening.
“Hi everybody,” she grinned at everyone in turn and glared at Harry.
“Boy you pissed her off,” Niall chuckled.
He shrugged. “Worth it,” because it was. He hated Kael before, he hoped he got the clue.
“You know she had to talk to him, right?” Callie asked. Harry’s head snapped up from his phone screen looking at his contacts once more. Harry wasn’t sure he could pinpoint it exactly but his evenings with the women in his phone were leaving him less and less fulfilled. He wasn’t looking for any grand pronouncements of love. That wasn’t his thing. But the idea of spending the evening with someone didn’t give him the same excitement as it used to.
It was probably the day he met her. But it was sinking in more over the week she had barely spoken to him. “What do y’mean?” He frowned.
“Crowe? She had to talk to him after that stunt you pulled.”
Harry glowered at the table. “Why?”
“Because he wouldn’t stop blowing up her phone and he was threatening to come to her if she didn’t just talk to him. Why do you think she didn’t come with us on the plane the next day?”
Harry felt like a jerk. “Oh.”
“She hates you,” Asher reminded him.
He rolled his eyes. “She could have told one of us,” he mumbled. Harry would have sat outside her apartment waiting for him.
“I don’t know if you noticed Harry, but she’s pretty private,” Niall sighed leaning on his pool stick. “I know you meant well, but it kind of fucked up her day.”
Harry pouted. He met her gaze as she brought their drinks out.
And if she spilled Harry’s on him, well, he supposed he deserved that.
*
Harry was a great hockey player, a great friend. A great brother and son. Not to toot his own horn but he thought he truly was the World’s Best Uncle like it said on the T-shirt Gemma had got him when she told him she was pregnant. He was still pretty humble all things considered; always looking to improve. Coach Wheeler was one of his favorite mentors (right after his mum) and he strived to do better by them.
He was bad at Chemistry in school. He wasn’t good at Sudoku. Most recently he felt like he was bad at having sex. The thing he had going with the women he knew didn’t seem to be working for him the way it used to. There was an awkwardness to the hookups when he left. He wasn’t mentally present in the moment.
Harry was pretty certain he would be a shitty boyfriend.
He needed her forgiveness, or the other remaining areas of his life were going to get worse too.
Most notably, he was shit in practice. He worried he was going to be demoted to second string.
Harry arrived early to practice, putting goals in the net two hours before everyone else arrived. He would have to pay to resurface the ice twenty minutes before practice officially started. But he hoped that she was going to show up early with her carrot cake cupcakes. He anticipated she would be just one short. Which Harry deserved on top of everything else too.
Fortunately, she did arrive early.
“Hey,” he waved.
She ignored him, set the cupcakes down on the bench and pulled out her camera. She fiddled with it, wiping the lens off with a cloth, and took some test shots of the ice.
“Rookie, love,” he sighed and skated over to the bench.
“Yes, Mr. Styles? Can I help you?”
“C’mon, Rookie, I’m sorry,” he frowned. “I was just trying to help.”
She rolled her eyes and ignored him. “You must get whatever you want all the time.”
He frowned. “No, I don’t actually,” although from her perspective he could see what she meant.
“Well, me either, so if I’m going to be miserable. So are you.”
He snorted, shook his head. He stepped off the ice and sat on the bench beside her. “I’m sorry, Bunny. Really. I hated that he was bothering you. I didn’t mean t’make it worse, honest. I would have done the same for m’sister or any one of the guys’ girls.”
“I am an adult Harry. I’m independent and I can handle my own shit. You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I understand. M’sorry, really. I won’t do it again. But m’sick of y’being mad at me. S’been no fun this week without skating you around, grossly overtipping you jus’ so you’ll spend extra time with us,” he smiled shyly at her.
She sucked her lip into her mouth. For a moment she looked at her lap, obviously thinking something over. “How’d you know he bought me the wrong skates?” Her voice was quiet.
Harry blinked wondering how long she had that question locked and loaded. He shrugged. “I asked Charlie. He said he didn’t. So, I assumed it had to be him.”
She sighed and looked up. “He said figure skates would make me look like try-hard. Hockey skates would make me look more like I belonged on his arm,” she explained. “I didn’t know. I would have...” she shook her head. “It was eye-opening when you said that, and it hurt... and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry too.”
Harry sighed with relief. “You don’t have t’apologize,” he promised. “I’m sorry. Seriously.”
“Apology accepted.”
Harry grabbed her shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Thanks Bunny.”
She wrinkled her nose at him in distaste. “I don’t like Bunny.”
“Oh...” his smile grew by the second. “Y’don’t Rookie, love?” He chuckled standing up and getting back on the ice. “Y’probably shouldn’t have told me that,” he winked and skated off.
“There’s no cupcake for you!” She called.
“That’s okay, Bunny!” He shouted back with a grin and sank a shot from half-ice.
Maybe Harry would be a shitty boyfriend, but he was going to be her best friend instead.
--
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marzipanandminutiae · 2 days ago
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Sophia, the Boston woman from 1875 who haunts a lamp I got at Brimfield: what is a stay at home girlfriend, if you please?
me: well, it's a woman who's financially supported by the man she's dating, and she lives with him and usually keeps house and cooks for him
her: and they're not married?
me: well, no; hence "girlfriend" rather than "wife." I know that may alarm y-
her: oh calm down I know about Kept Women. he has no legal tie to her, though? she has no sort of standing with him in the eyes of the law? only his word that he'll follow through?
me: yes
her: and remind me again- you don't have to be financially dependent on a man anymore, right? there are more than like three careers open to women that will let you support yourself at a decent level now? and society isn't pressuring you 24/7 to get married and stop working outside the home?
me: yes
her: so these women. CHOOSE to be dependent on a man. who could leave them at any moment without legal consequence. because they don't like their jobs. the jobs, while imperfect, that let them live on their own, answerable to no-one
me: yes
her: that had better be some absolutely amazing jewelry they can pawn off if he leaves them, then
me: it's usually not
her: THERE'S NOT EVEN SECURITY JEWELRY?!
me: oh by the way they blame feminism for "having to work"
her:
her: I became fully dependent on my in-laws who hated me, after my husband died two years into our marriage, because I was a 23-year-old orphan with no marketable skills in any avenue besides Running A Household and the only men left unmarried in my social circle were widowers thirty years my senior. I also couldn't establish lines of credit as a widow because the merchants said my husband dying so soon meant that I didn't have stable enough income. and that was entirely legal
me: yeah
her: I'm going to go slam some doors please do not bother me
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mr-mercutio · 21 hours ago
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I remember once I was at a T-shaped intersection, crossing on the right side of the T from top down. About a second into walking into the street, y'know - after waiting for the lights to change and the walk signal to come on, this guy revs up and pulls into the intersection, ready to turn right. Already breaking the law of course, pulling right into the street before I was all the way across. And then he leans out of his window and starts screaming at me to hurry up and get across the street.
I didn't even have the opportunity to check for this fucker to see if he was going to let me cross. Put aside that I had right of way and had waited for the lights to change, he hadn't even BEEN at the intersection, just came zipping down at me.
I didn't feel terrified until after the whole thing was done. In the moment I was just so angry because how dare he, honestly? How dare he come so close to being able to just murder me with his fucking truck and then get mad at ME because I'm slowing him down by a few seconds?
I was so mad that I actually stopped in the middle of the crosswalk and looked him dead in the eyes. And I wish this was the part of the story where I could say he looked ashamed of himself, where I could think maybe he learned something that day that would change how he drove or treated people. Maybe he looked back at me and realized how much power he held over my life in that moment and mouthed "sorry" at me.
But no, he just got more angry and leaned on his horn and called me a faggot. I must have been the worst part of his day, the way he was acting.
So I just gave him the finger and resumed crossing the street, albeit at a snail's pace because I'm a petty little bitch when I'm mad. And as soon as there was any clearance behind me he went zooming off, still screaming at me. I could see another driver waiting at the intersection, one who had a red light still, look absolutely horrified. I think she felt more shame as a driver than this guy did.
And seeing her face was when I felt scared. When the reality dawned on me of how easily I could have been killed in that moment just because I was an inconvenience to an asshole. I slowed him down for an extra 20 seconds, and he treated me like absolute trash. He could have killed me so easily. The only power I had in that moment was to make his day just a little bit worse by extending the inconvenience a few more seconds. And I took that power gleefully in the moment, but I really shouldn't have. I should have just crossed the street because what if he did decide then to run me over? I would love to say that even this douchebag supreme wouldn't be that bad, but honestly? How could I know? If he was that willing to fly off the handle with zero provocation, I shouldn't have trusted that he wouldn't run me down for slowing down and giving him the finger. But taking the tiny bit of power I had in that moment felt really good and necessary in the heat of the moment.
I dunno, I don't have a good lesson here. I don't regret it in the slightest but I do also think it wasn't the safe thing to do. It wasn't worth the risk of dying in that moment.
Some people have no concept of the power they hold. This story is far and away not the only time I feel like I've come close to being killed by drivers who were stupid, angry, mean, or just plain not paying attention. I wish more people would remember that they're piloting a killing machine at high velocity and I'm just a little fleshbag out in the open air. I have to be so careful, and it makes me a bit bitter to watch the drivers who blithely zoom around and forget to stop or slow down or check for pedestrians like me.
Nothing exposes the inability of people to navigate power imbalances quite like the relationship between drivers and pedestrians.
For example, I just had a driver get screaming-at-me mad because I stopped walking at a slip lane to make sure he was going to stop. And like, buddy, I know I have the right of way, but if I assume you are going to stop and I guess wrong, I will literally die. Whereas if I wait to see if you're actually going to slow down, I am just delaying both of us by a couple of seconds. And that might have more to do with why I made the choice that I did than my being a stupid bitch who needs to learn the rules. Like, if you can't understand why the fact that you could effortlessly accidentally kill me (and likely face no consequences) means I am reticent to assume the best from you, maybe you just shouldn't have any power over anyone ever.
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simpurnatural · 3 days ago
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"Flustered" || Short-Fic
XO, Kitty - Min Ho Moon x Fem!Reader
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Note from Nat: "Back to back Min Ho fics??? Didn't expect to get so much positive feedback. Thanks for going easy on ya girl, I'm still a bit rusty! Enjoy and make sure to wipe that drool off your face babe!"
Warning(s): Spoilers for "XO, Kitty" seasons 1 & 2, A little bit of Smut, Language, Sorta Proofread
As the fall semester came to an end, with everyone not wanting to part ways even for a just a month, Min Ho decides to invite the entire friend group for a winter getaway.
“Where’s Y/n?” Asked Dae which made everyone’s heads turn before the sound of snow crunching was heard.
You approached the group that was currently enjoying the hot tub, arms crossed to keep your robe shut. Min Ho suggested that the hot tub would be best way to relax after a day of travelling
“Hi! Sorry I’m late to the party,” you smiled whilst kicking off your slippers, then sliding your robe off your shoulders.
“Hot damn girl,” Q said, overcame with astonishment. "Drop the workout routine asap please," he joked as everyone's eyes lingered on your figure.
“Oh stop it,” you laughed and rolled your eyes. “This old thing isn’t worth the hype,” you insisted, but everyone would’ve begged to differ.
The navy blue two piece you were sporting hugged all the right places. Your ass and tits looked like they needed saving. The sight was definitely giving body tea.
Everyone watched as you made your descent into the tub and sat in between Kitty and Min Ho. Kitty had given you a small wave whereas Min Ho could barely make eye contact. Various conversations continued but Min Ho remained in an unlike-him-silence.
He wondered how he had not noticed how hot you looked until now. Not saying that looks are everything, but Min Ho felt stuck on how he never gave you a second glance.
"-Right Min Ho?" Dae asks, turning to his best friend who was clearly zoning out.
"Sorry what?" Min Ho replied, snapping out of his trance.
"We're gonna be able to go skiing first thing tomorrow, right?" Dae reiterated, a slight tiredness in his voice due to Min Ho's lack of contribution to the conversation.
"Of course," Min Ho nodded before his gaze back on you, who was too busy chatting with Yuri and Kitty to realizing anything else.
"Woah okay, this is new," Q teased, as his eyes followed Min Ho's. "The bikini has got your eyes lurkin'" he says, making Jin snicker at the observation.
"What are you guys talking about?" you ask with an unaware smile on your lips, Min Ho's eyes instantly looking down.
"Min Ho here seems to have-" Q began.
"Shut it," Min Ho tsked before moving to leave the hot tub.
"Hey, we were just joking," Jin called out as Min Ho shuffled back into the house.
"What was that about?" Yuri questioned, all conversations now put on pause.
"Is Min Ho okay?" Kitty asked, looking to the other boys occupying the hot tub.
"He's just a little flustered," Dae replied, the feeling of worry instantly overcame you.
"Did I do something?" you say wide-eyed but to no response. "I'll go check on him," you say before making your way out of the tub and walking towards the house. "Min Ho?" your voice echoed throughout the home.
You noticed a light coming from inside the kitchen and chose to investigate. There stood Min Ho, chugging a bottle of water with his slim yet toned physique being illuminated by the refrigerator light. He began to cough up said water after realizing your presence.
"Bloody hell, you scared me," he coughed, covering his face with the inside of his elbow. "What is it Y/n?" he asks while shutting the fridge door.
"What's with you?" you quizzed, "Ever since I joined you guys outside, you've been quiet and when I tried to converse with you-you run back inside!" you add with a hint of frustration in your voice.
"It's not my fault-"
"-So it's mine? What did I do wrong?" you cut off, urgently wanting an answer as to why your friend was avoiding you.
"Y/n, it's because y-you literally look like t-that!" Min Ho exclaimed as if it were common knowledge. "How else is a guy supposed to act when you decide walk around wearing something like that?" he questioned.
"Is what I have on not okay? Was there something in my hair?" you blabbered in response, instantly being overcame with the self-conscious feeling.
"It's fact that when I saw you earlier, I wish you didn't have anything on" Min Ho muttered in an almost whisper like volume.
The realization finally hit you, Min Ho had been eyeing you since you stepped into the hot tub. You face flushed a bright red, clearly flattered by the words that just came out of his mouth.
"So what you're saying is-"
"What I'm saying is that you look almost too good," Min Ho said, his voice deep and eyes darkened like a lion about to pounce on his next prey.
The small distance between the two of you shut in almost an instant, his hand cupped the side of your face gently. You could've sworn that the beat of your heart could be heard from miles away.
Your lack of response gave Min Ho time to lift you up and place you on the kitchen counter. Accidentally, you let out a small whimper at the feeling of the cold tile touching your skin. Min Ho felt as if he could've finished off that noise alone.
Standing between your legs, Min Ho's hands traveled all the way back down to your ass. You watched his eyes really take in your body, as if he could drink you up like a glass of water.
"Tell me to stop, and I will" Min Ho whispered as he gave your plump skin a squeeze.
Leaning in with your lips close to his ear, finally you replied, "I don't think I want you to stop".
Min Ho took this as his green light and you felt as his hands unclasped your bikini top. Grabbing the piece of clothing, he tossed away fand his eyes settled on your breast.
Biting his lip, Min Ho took one of each into his hands. "Beautiful. You are so beautiful Y/n," he said with is his accent thick, almost like he was about to melt at the sight of you.
You gasped at the feeling of his breath on your tits, causing a domino effect of butterflies and goosebumps to cover you. Min Ho chuckled at this, rubbing your nipples with his thumb in a circular motion.
Eyes closed; you threw your head back at the sensation before feeling something foreign come in contact with your breast. Min Ho's tongue began exploring your chest. It was as if he was trying to paint a picture.
His grasp on your tits became slightly more secure as he was egged on by your moans. He was marking his territory all over you with bright red hickeys.
Your half assed attempt to stifle your moans was with the palm of your hand. Min Ho however loved how loud you were getting for him and yanked your hand away from your face.
"I want to hear you," he insisted, pulling his lips away from your chest for a mere moment. "I want to hear you all night," he smirked, leaning in for a kiss.
"Uh guys?" a voiced that belonged to Yuri called out. "Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice trailing off into the hallway probably in search of you both.
Min Ho looked down with a smile on his face before getting your swim top from the ground. You quickly put it back on then pulled your hair to the front to cover the marks Min Ho left behind.
"W-we're here Yuri!" you replied hopping off the counter and walking out of the kitchen with Min Ho right behind you.
As Yuri came walking back towards you guys, her head tilted to the side in confusion, "What were you guys doing over there in the dark?"
"Just got some water," Min Ho replied, which seemingly convinced Yuri enough for her to walk back outside. "I'm not done with you yet," he whispered in your ear, giving your ass a slap.
JAN 2025
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callmearcturus · 1 day ago
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youtube
tobias
radiation
fox
is working on the new soundtrack to OFF
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hang on the interview with them is actually interesting
What did you think about composing some tracks for the new soundtrack? Well, it's a complicated feeling. Let me clarify. Obviously, Fangamer and Mortis wanted to use the original soundtrack. They tried to reach out to the composer, ACC, to get the rights to use it... but ultimately, he felt nervous about signing anything and disappeared. However, he has stated that he doesn't mind that his music isn't being used, and he has no problem with the new soundtrack. So, it's a bit weird, but everything is chill. That being said, OFF is a very atmospheric and memorable game, and the soundtrack contributed a lot to that. It's an integral part of the memories that people have built of this game. Trying to replace those songs feels like breaking into somebody's house and pasting your face into their family photo album. But, Mortis asked me if I was interested, and, given that his game really inspired me, and he's a super nice guy... I decided I would try my best to help. To ensure that new players, even if they didn't get the exact same experience, would get a pretty cool one. I ended up handling a lot of boss tracks. I attempted to match the game's "style" by aiming for idiosyncrasy and atmosphere over everything else. I think the results are pretty cool. I also was assigned... the normal battle theme. I'm gonna be honest, just feels like I got assigned to take a bullet in the back for everybody else. I looked up almost every jazz song from the 1920s, I commissioned Carlos to make an entire fake jazz song for me so I could cut it up into samples, I tried making like 6 entirely different songs, but nothing I could come up with on my own felt quite right. In the end, I summoned Camellia to help me out by re-remixing my first track into multiple versions, and so ultimately I think it will feel pretty cool as you go through the game. (But, I'll be the first to say that I can't replace your memories...) By the way, I did the music for free, and I'll upload my tracks for free after the game comes out. Personally, I don't think the original music is replaceable, so I want to treat what I made like "fanmusic", made just out of love and respect for the original. Alright, see ya.
Love the remark about "assigned to take a bullet" because for fucking real, imagine being a game music composer and being asked to make a new "Pepper Steak"
for people who are not Certified Game Likers, it's like being asked to make a new version of The Fifth Element. nothing you do will replace the original and most likely you were heavily influenced by its existence, so what do you even do?
/slinks off to listen to "Pepper Steak" again
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dwaekkicidal · 2 days ago
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cw» fem!reader, kitty hybrid reader x puppy hybrid!channie, mentions of p in v, manhandling, there’s a few more but nothing too crazy/out of the blue
cw» not really proofread, but this is for that one anon who asked for kitty reader a few months ago <3 sorry it took so long
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
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pup!channie who was very against his owner adopting another hybrid, let a lone a cat of all species. but it's not like he has much of a say in it- it's supposed to be his new "friend" so he's not alone while his owner is at work all day!
pup!channie who scares you shitless before you two even meet. your new owner warned you and told you all kinds of scary things about the dog you'll be living with from now on
but queue faces of surprise, from all 3 of you, when chan's face burns red and his tail starts wagging aggressively the second he sees you
pup!channie who gets addicted to your scent from day 1. he just loooves the way you smell. that and your endearingly cute demeanor only leads to him quickly growing a little crush on you~
pup!channie who surprises you and your owner when he opens his space to you right off the bat- with little to no aggressiveness coming from the boy.
pup!channie who welcomes you with open arms, even going far enough to allow you to lay (and sleep with him) in his bed. your owner was scared at first but quickly grew to trust chan enough that he didn't bother getting you your own bed- simply allowing you to sleep with chan
pup!channie who stares daggers into every person, human or hybrid, who even glances your way. your pretty head is never worried about anything enough to notice the stares, but chan has eyes of a hawk when it comes to you.
pup!channie who scents you unbeknownst to you. sneakily scenting you and your clothes to the point where it's just a natural smell to you- you don't question where it comes from anymore now that you're conditioned to live in the smell- but the smell follows you everywhere enough to scare other hybrids away
pup!channie who is SO easily jealous and refuses to let anybody near you. your owner has to muzzle HIM when you go to the doctor because the mere thought of strangers being so close to you, maybe even touching you makes him seethe.
^ and this is even worse when your owner brings their friends around. the onslaught of questions like "ohh how did you get that mutt to tolerate your new, pretty kitty" was already enough to piss him off, but when the friends try to touch you, he sees red. he actually loses all sense of rationality and will bite the person if they don't back away within his first growl.
and all of this is innocent at first! until its not.
it loses all innocence when mating season comes around, and you both discover your owner wasn't responsible enough to account for the clash of hormones. they thought about the possibility of you getting pregnant and put you on birth control "just in case", but they didn't take into account that the hormones would still be there in full force.
and that leads to what happened at the beginning of the week. your owner is out on a business trip that just so happens to be 2 weeks long, and channie has begun to feel the first signs of his heat. but it wasn't until he came home from a short grocery outing, and smelt your scent for the first time in hours, that he realized his heat was hitting him.
it wasn't until he was standing the doorway of your shared room, groceries long forgotten on the kitchen floor, that he felt the heat start coursing through his veins.
it wasn't until he had your face shoved into the sheet, balls deep in your cunt, that the emotions started to hit him.
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"C-Channie! Slow down, p-please-" He shushes you and thrusts harder, his balls slapping against your clit each time he bottoms out. "Pretty kitty- MY pretty kitty."
"Chan~" Your whines only made him growl and push into you harder. He was using both hands to hold you down, one in your hair and the other on your shoulder, but he trailed the lower of the two down to your ass after some time.
His hand comes down on your ass suddenly, making you yelp out of surprise. The yelp turns into a moan when his hand wraps around the base of your tail and tugs.
"A-Ah!?" He doesn't release it. Instead, he tightens his hold on your tail and continues to lightly tug on it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. Your hand that's not tangled in the sheets goes behind to push his hand away and Chan growls again, releasing your hair to dig his hands into your wrist and hold it above your head in order to get you to stop resisting him.
"You're gonna take it, right baby? Gonna let me fuck you full of my pups?" You attempt to push yourself up with your free hand, only to fall back down when his canines dig into the side of your neck. "Answer my fucking question before I lose my patience, kitty."
"Yes! I'll take it all. Anything for you, Channie…” You could feel the smirk break out against your neck, and it seems like your promise was enough to scratch an itch in his stupid dog brain.
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now, days into his heat, you feel your own heat starting up- no doubt thanks to the restless hound that was adamant about rearranging your insides and trying to get you pregnant.
the two of you had barely left the room by the mid point of the next week. your owner had to call in a friend to bring you guys food every night- at first they weren't really aware of what was going on thanks to the vague texts chan sent (in the middle of you riding him, might i add), but boy could his friend smell the sex from the front door.
and channie had absolutely no plan to stop fucking you, even as your owner's friend poked their head in to check on you two for your owner. he simply gave them the nastiest side eye and tightened his grip around your neck, seemingly fucking into you even harder as he held eye contact and growled at the person to leave.
and then once they did leave, he continued fucking you as if the world was ending and the two of your would never see each other again.
“Attagirl, baby. Take this knot and Channie’ll breed your pains away.”
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Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):
@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08
@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy
@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @honeyybbuubblleess
@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa
@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams @velvetmoonlght
@aeri-skzver
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nanenna · 7 hours ago
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Warning: Bodily mutilation, body horror, vivisection, medical torture, scientific torture, suicidal ideation, dead dove do not eat. (Does this count as body horror? I'm a little shaky on what exactly that means. And the suicidal ideation is only just hinted at.)
Hey! I just found out I can customize some emojis. Not sure if that's just a chrome thing (I know, but eh) or what. Check this out!
👨‍👨🏻‍👧🏻‍👦🏻
-----
Thankfully there were others to keep Danny distracted while Kon sat out in the dirt, quietly explaining everything to Clark. Even more thankfully Clark had the good sense to just sit there with him and listen, let Kon explain everything in his own piecemeal way, then just sit there in silence because there really wasn’t any comfort to give. Danny needed help, they were already working on a way to get it to him, the only thing to do right now was to just… help distract him from the horrors his mind was already distancing itself from.
The next day, when Diana and Constantine showed up with all his supernatural supplies, Kon had a chance to explain to them what he’d discovered the night before. This time much more coherently than he’d managed to Clark. He’d helped move what little furniture was in the room out of the way, then left them to it.
He didn’t see Danny that evening.
Kon was a little worried, Danny’s appearances had only been getting more often, not less. But it was also still spotty, so he wasn’t going to worry about it yet.
“Guess three days in a row is a bit much,” Constantine said, about to flick away his spent cigarette when Kon held out an empty tin can.
“Perhaps it is a sign that his captors give him some rest after such… drastic measures,” Diana theorized.
That didn’t make Kon feel any better, if Danny was only here when he was at his worst and his appearances were happening more often… Kon didn’t want to think about it. Still, they couldn’t do anything until Danny showed up again.
When Danny didn't show up the next day either he really started to worry. What if he was showing up somewhere else? What if he never showed up again? What if that was the last time Kon ever saw Danny and he'll never know why?
It was such a relief when he did spot Danny the day after that, that Kon nearly collapsed. Danny was laid out in the grass of a meadow just past the property line, looking up into the sky like he was stargazing. Kon looked up to see clouds slowly meandering across the sky like a small herd of sheep. Kon quickly let the others know before floating down to greet Danny.
“Cloud watching?”
“That one's shaped like a train.” Danny pointed up.
Kon tilted his head and squinted, “I guess I can kinda see it.”
Kon lay in the grass next to Danny, the two taking turns as they pointed out various shapes in the clouds. The late afternoon light was already fading, it wouldn't be long before the sun set.
Tim let him know they'd all arrived.
Kon stood up and brushed down his pants. “Wanna come inside? Ma and Pa missed you.”
Danny gave one of his indulgent smiles. “Sure.”
Together they went back to the house, finding everyone in their full gear. Kon started making introductions. “These are my friends! This is Bart, also known as Impulse.”
Danny seemed slightly confused, “The way I'm also Phantom?”
Kon looked to his friends, who all just looked back. “Yeah, the way you're also Phantom.” So Danny was also a hero, did that mean he had powers? Was this his arch nemesis?
“I'm Red Robin, you can just call me Red for short.”
Danny scoffed, amused, “I already call Red Huntress that, bird boy.”
Tim just laughed. Everyone else went around, introducing themselves. Danny wrinkled his nose at Constantine, but didn't comment.
Then the whole group went upstairs to the spare room where Constantine's circles and supplies had been left. “... to track you down we're just gonna need you to stand in this circle,” Constantine was saying.
Danny stopped and turned to give a mildly accusatory look to Kon. “Nocturn, I don't appreciate this.”
“What?” Kon asked, confused.
“Making a bunch of comic book super heroes to come rescue me. Trying to give me hope. I don't need it, I don't want it.”
Kon had no idea how to respond to that.
Danny's form flickered as his voice rose. “No one's coming for me. I heard the gunshots, I know my family's dead. Sam and Tucker would've come for me by now if they could, so either they can't or they tried and died too. Same for Dani, Dan, and Vlad, but they were probably captured. I know Dani was, she was with us when… when I…” Tears were streaming down Danny’s face only to leave frozen tracks.
“Danny, Danny I'm not Nocturn. I don't know who those people are or what happened to you.”
“Bullshit, I know I'm dreaming.”
“You are,” Kon agreed. “But I'm not, the rest of us aren't. You're Astral projecting right now.”
“Outta the way, ya git.” Constantine shoved Kon out of the way, and Kon obligingly moved, glad one of the adultier adults was taking over. “He's not Nocturn, yeah, none of us are. But Nocturn set up this dream for you, right? A fun, safe little place where you can do whatever you want. Even if it's not real, don't you wanna rescue your friends?”
Danny sniffled, “Not even Vlad deserves this.”
“Not even Vlad deserves this,” Constantine agreed solemnly. “If we're rescuing more people, guess we'll need more help.” He gave the rest of them a firm look.
“Clark, Kara, we need more hands,” Kon said.
Diana was tapping away at her comm.
Clark and Kara arrived quickly, already in their full costumes. Kon stepped out to go change out of his cities. By the time he got back Captain Marvel and Zatanna Zatara had also arrived.
“Alright,” Constantine said, “this spell should take us right to Danny, but after that we're gonna need to search the rest of wherever for any other uh… people who need rescuing.”
Kon couldn't blame him, no one liked being called a victim.
“Now Danny, if you could just stand in this circle…” 
Danny huffed, but did as he was asked. Constantine lit some candles that had already been placed around the circle then mumbled out some kind of chant.
A magic portal opened in the center of the circle attached to Danny's.
“Alright, everyone through.” Constantine led the way, walking confidently into the portal. Everyone else filed through.
Kon stayed behind. “You don't have to come if you don't want to.”
Danny looked confused, “Isn't this whole thing supposed to be for me?”
“Kinda.” Kon had an epiphany. “You sure this isn't a shared dream?”
Danny frowned in thought, “Sam and I had the same dream when he was trying to take over the world, wouldn't it have been easier to put us in the same dream if he could?”
“If he was trying to take over the world, it's better to not have you two wake each other up, right? He kept you separate so he could tweak the dream. Here we can distract each other.”
Danny nodded as his face smoothed out to nothingness. “Yeah, that makes sense. This is a shared dream.”
“Go on down and hang out with Ma and Pa, I'm gonna go play out my big hero fantasy for a bit.”
Danny smirked, “Okay. Have fun storming the castle!” He turned and started floating away.
Kon went through the portal. On the other side the room he found himself in was quite cramped despite only having Tim, Clark, and a few scientists being tied up in the corner. A good portion of the room was taken up by a large, steel table. And the tiny person laying on it, Diana leaned over and removing something from his head.
Kon was going to be sick.
It was Danny, he had to be. His hair was dark and shorn close to the scalp, like they couldn't be bothered with taking care of it. His chest was splayed open. His face was splayed open! He was also missing all of his limbs: right arm just below the shoulder, left at the elbow, both legs shortly below his body, just far enough for a tourniquet. The edges seemed to be rotting, except for the right arm, which looked raw and freshly cut.
“Kon, go help look for the others,” Diana said softly as she started gently trying to put Danny’s face back together.
Kon did as she ordered, following the trail of destruction the others were already leaving. A few rooms down and he found Marvel in an identical room leaning over a nearly identical Danny, gently pulling the skin back over this Danny’s beating heart.
Clark had joined him, gently pulling him from the room's doorway. “Red will be here soon to look him over, he's helping Diana with Danny right now. Let's go check on the others.”
Kon swallowed. “Right.”
He let himself be guided away. There was the sound of fighting nearby, they hurried to join in. What were clearly agents in all white business suits wielding shiny silver guns clearly weren't prepared for Kryptonians and Amazons were quickly being tied up.
“You ecto scum are going to pay for this!”
“You're daft if you think we're ecto whatever, your little toys didn't even scratch us,” Constantine said from the sidelines.
“I found another,” Bart called from a couple doors down.
Kon took a deep breath.
“You don't have to look,” Clark said.
“I know.” Kon went up to the doorway and looked in to find Bart gently taking something off another Danny’s head. This time he finally got a good look while it was on, some kind of strap that went under the chin and over the top of the head.
A muzzle.
A simple muzzle that kept the mouth closed while these absolute maniacs flayed these children's faces open.
“I used to have nightmares about stuff like this,” Clark said from just behind Kon. “That someone would find out I was an alien and take me away to some facility to cut me open and figure out how I work. And it would all be legal because I wasn't human.”
Kon finally turned to look at Clark. “You think that's what this is?”
“John said Danny probably isn't human, right? That not everything from Earth is human.”
Kon just nodded. Danny and his family(?) were probably fairies or something.
“Kal,” Kara called.
“C'mon, let's go help put an end to this nightmare.”
“Yeah,” Kon said and followed Clark.
DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6
After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.
Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.
.
Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.
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always-azriels-princess · 2 days ago
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The Wrong Thing part two
Guysss i did it :) im so proud
Summary: the mate bond snaps, and you say the wrong thing
Part 1
Word Count: 1.4K
Azriel was avoiding you. You knew it, he knew it, the entire Inner Circle knew it. Feyre had tried to approach you a couple times to figure out what had happened, but you never answered the knocks on your door.
It was embarassing, and yet you completely understood why your mate didn't want you. The haunted look in his eyes that night appeared in your nightmares each night, and each one ended with you waking up, slicked with sweat and panting as if just finishing a marathon.
Bags had started to form under your eyes from the lack of sleep, and Azriel wasn't looking much better. You had overheard Rhys talking to Feyre on multiple occasions about how Azriel was getting unfocused during missions, sloppy during training, and quick to anger in simple conversations.
You knew you had to fix your mistake, but it was hard to think of how your mate would look at you, like he never wanted to see you again. And you didn't even blame him, you wouldn't want to see yourself either after what you had done.
"No."
The words hung around your neck, suffocating you every second of every day like a noose growing tighter and tighter. Rhys had also noticed your work as a diplomat for the Night Court was diminishing in its thoroughness.
Nuala knocked on your door, as you were deep in some paperwork updating the new peace treaty with Winter. "Come in," you called.
"Good afternoon miss," Nuala said as she walked in. "The High Lord would like to see you in his office."
You sighed, expecting something like this after on your and Azriel's actions in the past week. "Thank you Nuala, I'll be right there."
The chair scraped back after you stood up, shuffling the papers and stuffing them in a drawer.
Dread coiled in your gut as you made your way to the High Lord's office, worried he would make you confront what you had been trying so hard to hide from.
You knocked thrice quietly, hoping Rhys had maybe left to go get a snack and you could sneak back into your room. To no avail, you heard a faint "come in," and you took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
The breath you had previously took escaped you as you gazed over every inch of the shadowsinger, completely ignoring the High Lord sitting at his desk, smirking with his "I'm so amazing" face.
As you drank in the image of your mate, his shadows clung to him, wrapping around his body like a second skin, while others writhed around his feet, swarming and twisting in chaotic patterns. The tension in the room increased ten-fold and the air around Azriel began to darken, his very presence sucking in the light around him. His adam's apple bobbed as he traced your every curve, as if committing the image to memory.
You just stood in the doorway, both you and your mate frozen, staring at each other, before Rhys cleared his throat and you snapped out of your trance, breaking your eye contact with your mate. As you sat down on the opposite side of the couch Azriel was on,
"Now, you probably know why I called you in," Rhys explained. "This," he gestured wildly, waving his hands between you two, "needs to stop. Azriel, you've almost completely dropped your training schedule, and I have reports from your informants that you're missing their check-ins." He turned to you, "And you are three days behind on the paperwork for the Winter Court peace treaty renewal."
Rhys sighed and stood up, walking towards the door. Before exiting the room, he turned back and said, "I don't know what's going on with you two, and I'm not going to snoop through your heads to figure it out, but something clearly happened, so you can leave this room when you are back to normal." With a wave of his hand, the door closed behind him as he walked away, and you could hear the soft click of the lock turning, keeping you stuck in a room with male who wanted nothing to do with you.
The air in the room was thick, suffocating. The silence between you and Azriel seemed to stretch endlessly, like the tension before a storm. He sat on the couch across from you, his posture rigid, every muscle in his body taut, like he was ready to shadow away at any second.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him at first. The guilt gnawed at your insides, raw and jagged, but you forced yourself to breathe, slow and steady, to calm the racing in your chest. The room was too quiet, and yet every sound felt amplified. The way his shadows whispered, curling and slithering at his feet, the way his eyes seemed to burn into you from across the room.
He was avoiding you, but you were avoiding him too.
You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat, suffocating you before they even had a chance to leave your lips.
Azriel spoke first, his voice low and strained. "You don’t have to do this." It was almost a whisper, his words laced with pain and, not anger...no, something more vunerable. Insecurity.
"Do what?" you finally managed, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears. "Talk about it?"
His voice was low and strained. "You have already made your feelings very clear, and I would never try to force you into anything you don't want."
You sat up, confused. "Az, I never said I didn't want the bond. I was overjoyed when it snapped, but I....I panicked because I know that you deserve someone better than me."
His beautiful hazel eyes softened. "But...you said no. The bond snapped and you said no." His voice was getting louder and faster as he spoke. "You were right, you shouldn't want this bond, I'm broken and scarred, and you're so....so perfect."
An ache spread through your chest, as though all the fragile pieces of your heart had shattered at once, leaving sharp fragments to tear at your insides.
"Azriel," your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes. You shifted closer on the couch, until your legs were brushing against his. "I told you this that night, and I will tell you again. You. Are. Not. Weak. You are not broken, you are not scarred, you do not have a single flaw unless it is loving your family too much. I can never take back what I said that night, and I will replay that moment in my head for the rest of my life, praying to be able to go back in the past and change it. You have a such a pure heart, so do not think for one moment that you are not deserving of me. I am the one who doesn't deserve you." You finished your speech, a soft, uneven breath escaping you.
Azriel stared into your soul, his eyes softening with wonder and adoration. He smiled softly as he drew closer. When you felt his warm breath on your face, he murmured, "Why don't we just agree that we both deserve each other," and closed the distance between you. His lips met yours, and it was like the world fell away and the only thing that mattered was the male in front of you. His hand slid from your face to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. It was slow, unhurried, like you both had all the time in the world. You smiled against his lips, fingers threading through the dark strands of his hair as you leaned into him, deepening the kiss.
The taste of him, the feel of him, was overwhelming in the best way. It was like coming home, like a storm finally releasing the tension it had held for so long. You regretfully pulled away, resting your forehead against his. You were finally home.
The peace of the moment was shattered as the door was thrown in, what seemed to be the entire court of Velaris pushing themselves through. Cassian laughed deeply, sweeping Az off the couch and hugging him "Finally!" he exclaimed. Mor, who was bawling her eyes out, flung herself at you, knocking yourself back against the couch. "THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!" You paused for a second, then laughed and hugged her back.
Rhys came in with Feyre on his arm, looking all too smug. "I told you Feyre darling, I'm a genius."
Feyre smacked him upside the head.
@lilah-asteria >3 ilsym you are my first tag ever and i'm so grateful for the support so thank youuuu
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captain-bubble-wrap · 3 days ago
Note
I'm curious how do you think Quinn would handle a breakup? Maybe one where he's being broken up with?
Boy, was this one hard to write... 90% of this is based on my last breakup, so... it's pretty... painful. SO ENJOY my misery! (I gave you a better ending than I had IRL, so you're welcome for that at least.)
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"I loved you, I really did."
"It doesn't have to be this way," Quinn begged. "I still love you, Y|N."
"But you don't show it, Quinn. I've been so alone for so long and I just can't put myself through this anymore." Tears had been streaming down your face for several minutes now, since this whole spiraling conversation had started, yet you never broke eye contact with him. You wanted him to know how much this was hurting you to say and just how long you had been carrying the weight of it all.
"I tried to tell myself it would pass. It was this excuse, and that excuse, but nothing ever changed. I just don't think you can handle a relationship and your career right now. I'm tired of lying to myself. I'm tired of acting like tomorrow will magically be better. It's never better."
"Y|N I'm sorry--"
"I'm sure you are, and so am I, but I can't do this anymore. I just can't."
Quinn said nothing, his eyes dropped from your face while he stood there looking completely lost.
"You always say I don't deserve to feel the way I do when I'm down, because you've caused me to feel that way, but that's as far as it goes. Nothing ever changes. It's the same stuff over and over."
"I know, that's on me," he choked out, throat tight with anxiety. "I never intended to hurt you. I didn't think things were as bad as they were. I didn't realize I was hurting you."
You just shook your head in disbelief at hearing him say he hadn't noticed what he was doing to you. "You know, maybe I just asked too much from you. Maybe I demanded too much and you had no choice but to push back. I just don't know."
Quinn's eyes flick back to you immediately, "You were never too much, and I meant that every time I told you -- every time I tried to reassure you. You have always been there for me."
"And what about you? Where were you when I needed you the most? Distant, closed off, out with the guys? Even when you were beside me, you weren't really there. I begged you to do stuff with me and you'd say sure, but something would always come up. It was like you wanted an excuse to be away from me. I understood in the beginning, but fuck! I wouldn't hear from you until the next day. 'Sorry, I fell asleep. I left my phone at the hotel.' How could I not be suspicious?"
"I never cheated on you!" Quinn cried out.
"But, Quinn, the goddamn panic attacks you caused me! That hurt me!" Your voice was so much louder now, straining to remain below a yell. He was a blur in your eyes, with the tears obstructing your vision. "I begged you for the smallest of things! Christ, I'd say, 'good night, I love', and it was like you'd just ignore what I said. You never said anything the next morning! You say you love me, but you're horrible at showing it."
Quinn's voice, on the other hand, was growing smaller each time he had to plead his case. "I never fell out of love with you, Y|N, it's just like we drifted apart. I love how you treat me. I just wasn't used to being treated that way. I'm sorry if it came off like I was pushing you away."
"It was months though, Quinn. Months of feeling like I was the third wheel or just another friend. I don't like feeling so alone in a relationship. It's horrible."
"I don't know what else to say, but I'm sorry. Can I do anything to make this better?"
You were biting your bottom lip so hard when you heard his half-assed apology you tasted blood shortly after. "No, I don't think so. Too much has happened. I never thought we'd come to this. I thought you were going to be the last guy I had to open up to; the last guy I'd have to explain my past to. I wanted you to be my last, Quinn."
"I know, and I'm sorry I hurt you like this. I just got too comfortable and never checked in with how you were feeling. It was selfish of me. I'm not proud of any of this."
"I'm sorry it had to be this way, too. Sorry I had to bring this up out of the blue, but I've just reached my breaking point one too many times."
Even through all of your anger and sadness, you wanted to walk over to him and give him one last hug, but you had to stand your ground or all of these revelations would be for nothing. Too many times before you had talked yourself out of telling him how you had felt, but there would be no going backwards now.
"I've got to put myself first for one," you finally brought yourself to say. "I'll get my stuff out of here while you're on the road."
"Y|N--," he mumbled, his eyes so sorrowful hearing you say your goodbyes, so finite and decided.
"I hope everything works out for you, Quinn. I really do. I hope you find the person that's right for you. Someone who can handle your life and schedule. Again, I'm sorry but that doesn't appear to be me."
That was it. You had said everything you had argued with yourself over for months, in a matter of minutes, and now you were leaving his apartment. You'd linger on your decision for a moment once the door closed behind you, but you had to force yourself to go forward though your heart was begging you to go back.
On the other side of the door, you wouldn't hear him finally break down; his cries unheard and his heart shattered.
You'd reach the parking garage and get in your car but you didn't leave immediately -- almost like you were wanting to see if Quinn was just behind you, but the elevator door never opened. It was for the best. What would you have done if he had? Run back over to him? Say you were sorry? It was best not to think about the what-ifs.
It would hit you, as you rolled onto the street, that the next time you returned it would be to get your things, and likely the last time you'd ever be at his apartment. That apartment held so many memories, both good and bad. It felt more like home than your own did.
You'd find yourself in a silent argument the whole drive home until one song, on your shuffled playlist, catches your ear. It was Venice Bitch, by Lana del Rey, a song you loved until, for the first time, you noticed how much it aligned with your emotions.
"Fresh out of fucks forever, trying to be stronger for you. Ice cream, ice queen... oh god, miss you on my lips. It's me, your little Venice bitch...on the stoop with the neighborhood kids, calling out bang-bang kiss-kiss...and as the summer fades away, nothing gold can stay...you're right, I told you we'd make it work, you're beautiful and I'm insane...we're American made...give me Hallmark: one dream, one life, one lover...paint me happy and blue."
The music swells, as your tears run off your jawline. You loved Quinn so much! He had been the prince you had dreamed of, wished for and what had you done?
"Oh god, love him on my lips...touch me with your fingertips...it's me your little Venice bitch."
You'd pull in your driveway, your forehead resting against the steering wheel while you screamed out in agony at your broken heart. Your body hurt from crying for so long, throat sore from such loud emotions, and chest heavy with anxiety. Eventually, you'd exit your car and drag yourself to your front door. You couldn't just crawl into bed after all of that, you would need help in crying yourself to sleep. So, in the kitchen, you'd go through two glasses of wine while you convinced yourself you were such an idiot. Realizing you had thrown away the best thing to ever happen to you, you would being crying to loudly, it was like you were screaming. It was any wonder you hadn't awoken your sleeping neighbors next door. There was no fixing this now. What was done, was done.
All you wanted was some comfort but there would be no one to give you any. Not now. You felt you didn't deserve it anyway.
Leaving the glass and open bottle on the island, you forced yourself to the bathroom to wash your face. Seeing yourself in the mirror --how broken you looked-- had you been any weaker, you would have thrown something at it to erase the image from your mind. If only it would have been that easy to erase Quinn's sad eyes pleading for you not to leave. You wish you would have just left the light off.
In your bedroom, either out of habit or for comfort you grabbed a shirt to sleep in, which had been one of Quinn's. It hadn't taken long for the slight buzz to affect you but you felt no lighter or less phased by your actions. You wondered if you ever would.
As you figured you would, you'd cry into your pillow until flat exhaustion would pull you into sleep. That was until the buzzing of your phone would wake you from the light slumber. On the screen, "Huggy Bear" illuminated the room in bold, white letters. You ended the call, but no sooner had the phone screen gone black, it was flashing again. Like the first one, you swiped the red button and the ringing finally ceased. The next time the phone would buzz would be from a text notification. The words would send butterflies pulling your heart in one hundred different directions.
"I'm outside. Please, may I talk to you?"
Torn between leaving him out there in the cold, and actually giving him a moment to say what he needed to, you laid there for a few minutes before throwing the blankets aside and stumbling down the hall to the living room. Wiping your cheeks, you unlocked the door to find him standing there, his hoodie pulled up around his messy curls and his eyes bloodshot and wet.
You lean against the doorframe for support; arms crossed in an attempt to hide your deeper emotions.
"Y|N, I don't want things to be this way. I don't want things to end like this."
It was so hard, but you stood your ground, no matter how hard you wanted to fall into his body and tell him you were sorry.
"I'll try harder. I shouldn't have taken you for granted like I did."
Finally, you say something to him with a slight shaking of your head," This wasn't all on you. I asked too much. I'm sorry."
Your stifled cries can't be held back for long, and shortly after apologizing, you cover your face with your hands to hide your crying. Your whimpers stab Quinn in the heart all over again, still feeling he's the sole reason you're feeling this way. He steps forward, and wraps his arms around you. He's so warm against the cold night air, which causes your nails to dig into his back, allowing yourself to return his embrace.
"I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" You cried out, holding on to him like a lifeline.
"So am I," Quinn whispered in to your ear, trying to keep you from a panic attack. "C'mon, let's get you back inside. Is that okay?"
You'd allow him to guide you back into the warmth of the your house. He would be the one to shut and lock the door, and through all of that, he'd still keep you pressed against his chest.
"I never wanted to make you cry," he confessed, never realizing how much he could miss the feeling of you in his arms.
"I can't believe I hurt you like that, Quinn," you replied, hiding your face from his.
"Don't apologize, please." he said, nearly on the brink of tears himself. "I'm sorry I hurt you so much that we even got to this point in the first place."
The fact that he had even wanted to see you, to drive outside of the city to get to you, and above all else, not telling you how much of a horrible person you had been, spoke volumes of Quinn's willingness to be better for you. He wrapped both arms around you tighter than he ever had before. You were shivering, wearing nothing but that oversized t-shirt, but you didn't care; being cold wasn't going to take away whatever this moment was with Quinn.
"Are you okay?" He asked, running a hand up and down your spine. "You're shaking."
"I don't know."
"Come on, pretty girl, let's get you back to bed, hm? If you'll let me."
You nod, but were still reluctant to let go of him. Now you were forced to face him and it felt terrible to still see him looking so heartbroken. His cheeks were still wet with fresh tears, as he had apparently been silently crying while he had been holding you. You touched his face and his eyes closed against your touch.
"I'm sorry."
His eyes would open again, and he would try to smile for you. "I'm sorry, too."
Without another world, Quinn would guide you back down the hall to your bedroom, rather familiar with where everything was in the house. The light was off, your phone lay in the middle of the bed with the screen on. Your wallpaper was a picture of Quinn and yourself at last year's Stanley Cup playoffs, and it was the only light in the room. Quinn would click on one of the bedside lamps before reaching for your phone.
"I always loved that photo," he said, lingering on the photo for a moment before shutting off the screen and laying it next to the lamp.
You'd crawl into the bed and he would move to tuck you in, "I don't want you to hate me, Quinn."
He'd stop moving to return his eyes to your face. "I don't, sweetheart. I don't think I could...ever. It hasn't crossed my mind."
"But--"
"I'm not upset with you, baby. This is on me. What you said was true: I should have paid more attention.
You gasped through the beginnings of another crying fit, "I don't deserve it!"
"Shh, shh," Quinn leaned forward to cradle your face with his hand. "I needed to hear it, baby. The truth hurts sometimes. I'll be okay once you are."
"Will you-- will you stay tonight?" You asked, terrified he could possibly deny your request, trying to stop crying.
"Of course," he managed to actually smile. "I'd love to."
"Quinn, I'm so--"
"It's okay, it's okay. We've both said it enough."
You'd sniffle with an added nod as he pulled back the covers to get in next to you. He'd turn off the lamp before you found your place against his chest.
"I'll be right here when you get up, okay?" He assured.
"Promise?" You mumbled.
"I promise. I also promise not to make you feel like this again."
You didn't know what to say. It was like he had completely forgiven you for everything. "I don't want to lose you."
"You haven't sweetheart. I'm right here," he said, running a hand through your hair. "I love you."
Quinn's admission made you cry again, "I love you, too, baby."
"Shh, shh, you don't need to cry. I'm right here. I'm yours as long as you want me."
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creamecafe · 2 days ago
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Fate by "Design" | Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader
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Summary: While doing art in a subway, the Salesman offers you to play Ddakji, a chance to win money. But you wanted his number, when you win your acquaintance with the salesman becomes much more.
Pairing: Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader
Warnings: fluff, flirting, allusions to smut/sex, but not explicit
Word Count:
Author's Note: This was requested by Crazy4herluv on my Wattpad book Squid Game Imagines/One-Shots. This is also my first Salesman work, so I hope you enjoy!
*Icon used for this header above that I made in PicsArt is from Pinterest. Divider is from @cafekitsune in this post*
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Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my post, read my request guidelines and send a request!
Read on Wattpad & AO3 here
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The sounds of the almost isolated subway and people walking is the highlight of your daily routine. You had moved to Korea to work for a art company and you do sketches by hand.
It paid very good money but in your free time you liked to be in the subway and do art for others like New York. People would walk and stop to see what you possibly could be doing.
A lot of the time, couples, parents with their kids or even old people would ask for a drawing each day and you get paid at least $130-200 at the end of the day.
Your art simply consisted of charcoal sketches of the person who requested for the art as semi-realistic as possible with a watercolor splash in the back if they ask.
Sometimes you notice while you're drawing or sketching away looking for people to draw, you would see a man in a black suit.
He had black hair and was always carrying a suitcase with him. He was also very handsome, you thought. When you took the time to actually analyze him or look at him, not in a creepy way you thought, you noticed that he would throw something on the ground and slap people.
This guy must be insane, you thought. Slapping people everyday, but it didn't stop you wondering who he really was. You thought of going up to him and asking if he would like his own portrai. But you were nervous of asking such a good looking guy and you are an artist in the subway, so he was way out of your league.
Today felt like any other day. Until one person, the guy in the black suit came up to you. You were going to pack up for the day when you accidentally dropped pencils and other supplies on the floor, then rolled around. As you were on the ground picking up the supplies, you saw polished black shoes stop and turn in front of you.
You look up and see him. The guy in the black suit looks down at you while you're trying to pick up your stuff.
"Good evening ma'am. I have a question for you."
You got up from the floor and brushed off the germs from yourself from the subway ground.
"Hello sir. I finished my hours for the day drawing so I can't accept any art requests right now I'm sorry. You could always come back tomorrow if you like."
"I'm not asking for a drawing. I'm asking if you would like to play a game."
A game? Is this guy Billy the puppet you thought?"
"What game?" You asked?
"It's called Ddakji. Have you heard of it before?"
Ddakji. It should sound familiar but you felt like you don't know it.
"I don't think so. What is it?"
"It's very simple. You fold two pieces of paper, usually of bright colors as it's a children's game like an envelope and the goal is to throw down the paper as hard as you can so the other person's paper flips over."
"What's the point of playing the game?"
"If you win, I'll give you money. A hundred thousand won."
Your eyes widened at what he said. A hundred thousand won? That amount of money to get while doing art in a subway could take a year or two. Yet here's this handsome well kept money offering to you.
"And if I lose?"
"Well usually I slap people until they win or just give up." That explains why you see this man in the subway grounds slapping people and throwing stuff down.
"But seeing how creative you are. How about a portrait of me? Use all your creativity and imagination you can and give me something."
"Ok. I'll play. But I can change something?"
"What is it?" He turns his head to express curiosity. It's rare that people would ask for a change of things while playing, conducting he's the one in charge.
"If I win, I get to have your number."
The salesman is surprised at your boldness to ask him out.
"My number? You could walk out with a hundred thousand won. What could my number offer to you?"
"Well I might see a better prize than money. I see a real piece of art right here." You raised your eyebrow smirking
He smirks at you. This was going to be interesting he thought.
"We have an agreement then?"
You nodded. "I lose, you get a portrait. But if I win..."
"You get my number." The salesman nods smiling. "Five in a row you have to win." He then pulls out two colored orgami tiles of red and blue from his suit jacket.
"What color would you like?"
"Red/blue" you said.
"Alright then. Ladies first."
You look at him and then the ground. 10 in a row you can do this. You took a deep breath and slammed the envelope on the ground. The guy then slams his envelope on the ground flipping yours around.
It created a loud slapping sound and echoed that it startled you. You look up scared he was lying to his word and might actually slap you. You close your eyes and prepare for it.
"What are you doing?" The salesman asks
"Aren't you going to slap me?"
"You don't have to worry. I wouldn't slap a pretty face like yours. I only want a drawing."
Opening your eyes you took a deep breath. At least you wouldn't be slapped.
"1-0" The guys says. You assumed that was his keeping score
You pick up your envelope and roll up your sleeve. You threw it down but it didn't flip the salesmans. He picked his up and slammed it down flipping yours again.
"2-0". Now the chances of getting this guys number seems low and you might look like a fool. You were weren't to give up just yet. You relied on your skills of carrying an easel and so many supplies per day to the game.
Taking a deep breath, you slam down the card and it flipped the guys. You were smiled wanting to jump for joy.
"2-1" You put up 2 fingers with one hand and 1 finger to the guys face.
He said nothing but smirked. Talking wasn't his thing, you noticed. Probably why you found him attractive.
The salesman picks up his card and slams it and your flips over. It was a continuous picking up and flipping cards. You were getting better as the points were getting higher.
Now the score was "7-8". You were becoming tired and kinda wish you were home right now, sleeping. But
The salesman threw down his card and flipped yours. Now it was 8-8. A tie. Just two more and you get his number. You threw yours down and it flipped over. 8-9. Another slam from the guy and it was 9-9.
This was it. You weren't sure you would have enough energy to draw that portrait of his that he wanted. But you needed enough energy to finish this game.
You slammed it down and saw it flipped over. I won, you thought to yourself. Did I actually win? You thought.
"Congratulations. You won ma'am." The salesman smiled.
Those words felt unreal. "Yes! Yes!" You jumped around happy.
"Now, you asked for my number. I suppose you wouldn't have a piece of paper to write down my number, would you?"
What kind of question was that? You were a artist. Blank papers is all you carry. You grab your sketchbook from your bag and a pen to give to him.
He took it from your hands and wrote down his number fast. He gave it back to you and you saw it.
"What do you plan to do with that number, Miss?"
"I was wondering maybe you want to go out?"
"We can do that. Can I pick the place?"
It was the least you could let him do as he offered you money and kept true to his word to give you his money.
"Sure. I'll text you when I'm available. I might see you here too. Who knows?"
He nodded your response smiling.
"You have a good day madam"
"You too" God how you loved how formal he was and calling you madam and ma'am, even though you weren't really that old.
When you went home, you were exhausted but still smiling and excited that you got the guy's number. You texted your name so he could have yours saved as well. You went to bed, wondering what it could lead to. Possibly just one date or even more.
The next day, was the same thing. Wake up, eat breakfast, pack your things and head to the subway. You kept fixing yourself up for the salesman, wondering if he would come by.
He always comes by, you thought. He just has to. You scanned around the subway to see where he is as you didn't want to move your spot. After an hour had passed, it looked like he hadn't been around.
Maybe asking for his number was a bad idea, that he was avoiding to talk to you, you thought. A man walked by and dropped something not that far from you. It looked like money. Seeing this you get up, pick up the bill and try to call out for the man. But it looked like he was already gone. It was
Written in a black permanent marker, it says “Look at your phone ma’am”. Without thinking you check your phone and see a message. Meet me at the park at 4:30 PM. No need to dress so fancy but wear something you feel pretty in.
Blinking your eyes rapidly, you couldn’t believe what’s in front of you, more likely what’s on your phone. He’s actually texting you. The weird quiet but handsome black suit guy is texting you. You packed your things and went home and went to get ready to meet him in the park.
It was nothing special that you wore. Just a simple sundress/pantsuit but it was still one of the nicest outfits you had in your wardrobe. You kept wondering just what the man in plan for you. Walking around the park, you see the man still in his suit, hands in front looking around, possibly waiting for you, you thought.
Smiling, you walk up to him. When he sees you, he smiles with no teeth but still showing joy. He reaches out a hand. Looking at it hesitantly, you took his hand. The salesman then took your hand, bowed a little and kissed the back of your hand gently. You felt your heart skipped a beat when he did that.
“Hello ma’am. We meet again.”
“Hi. Were you the person that gave me the bill?”
“Maybe, a beautiful woman like you deserves more.”
Was this a dream? Were you dreaming or is this real. This man seemed to good to be true. You two walked to what would be your first date. The place he picked out for the first date was an art museum. It displayed the finest arts across the worlds and many different paintings. The salesman would ask about each piece and how did it make you feel. You responded to many of his questions but kept looking around. You guys kept talking and asking each other questions to get more acquainted with each other.
After the museum, he took you a some place to eat. Then you guys went to get ice cream. He paid for everything and asked if there’s anywhere else you would like to go. If you tried to pull out your card or even cash to pay for your own things, he would refuse so and said he got everything and that anything you wanted he’ll get for you. It had been late, so he dropped you off home and asked how was everything and if you enjoyed it.
You couldn’t thank him enough for the wonderful day you had comparison to just drawing in a subway for hours. Before you left his car, there was a slight tension between you guys that it could be cut with a knife. The man wanted to say something else but couldn’t stop looking at your lips. Looking at him, you see his hands reach towards your face and cup it as his lips softly touches yours.
His lips were so baby smooth and his cologne was so sharp from his neck, it felt like a gas hyptonixjg you. You cup his face, grazing it with your thumb. He pulls away, still looking at you with such yearning. Your thumb still on his face grazed his lips as you said goodbye and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Ever since that night, you two have been dating. He would take you on dates to other places. Mostly just walks in the park or art related stuff that you like. Your small kisses would turn into small makeouts into something more. He would sometimes, well mostly go over to your place and sleep over. In the mornings he would make breakfast in his underwear. You wish you could draw him right then and there.
He loves to pose for your art or whatever reference you need for your assignment in class. Once a month, he'll take you out to the art store to get whatever supplies you need. Your messy clothing consisted of paint or oil pastel stains is opposite of his clean, ironed and steamed suit. But he loves it either way.
The only time that he was out of the suit was when he was in bed with you. But other than that, you wanted him to be a bit more fun. You wanted to him have more color. Seeing those videos of online of couples doing painting of each others to see both of your art skills.
You begged the salesman to do wit you and he finally agrees. Squealing you get everything ready, canvas, paints, brushes, water and paper towels. You had 10 minutes to try to get each other’s features as accurate as possible
Time passes and both of you guys are done. You show your art of him and it’s him in his suit, pretty accurate and semi realistic but some details were missing. He nods and says it’s impressive of how much you can get done in less than hour.
You ask for his painting and he turns his Canva around and you see you in an almost renaissance like painting. Your mouth dropped and all felt like years of your art skills go away to just 10 minutes.
“What! How’s that even possible? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at art?”
“Well two people can’t be the artists in a relationship. One has to be a muse, to inspire the other.”
You scoffed at his bullshit. He just didn’t want to brag. An idea came in your mind. You grab a paintbrush and leave a stroke of red paint on his face.
“If you want to be a muse, why don’t you have some color on you?”
Smirking, the salesman takes this as a challenge and grabs his paint brush and paints across your face too.
Now you guys were having a paint battle. You tried to paint him more but he lightly grabs your arm and stops you. He leads you the floor, where he’s now on top of you. Seeing this as an opportunity, you grab a bottle of paint that’s open and smeared on his white shirt. He laughs at this and rolls you over where you’re now on top of him, straddling him.
Nothing was said between you both as you kept looking at each other. Like that night of your first date when you guys first kissed. Putting your head down you kiss him and he put his arms around on your back. The paint on your guys’ face mixed with each other. Breath was running out so you decided to stop. Your heart was beating so much just as he was trying to catch his breath too.
Now you’re forever grateful you asked for his number then taking the money. It’s a better reward than what the salesman had to offer you, as you got him, yourself. It felt like a dream come true. Even if it was, you didn’t want to wake up. Everything of being with him was like straight art. Maybe it was meant to be. That day you accidentally dropped your pencils and he came up to you. It could be called fate by others. Fate by design you like to call it.
He was right, one has to be the muse in a relationship and the other an artist. But to him, it was the thing he was missing the most. An new reason to be in the subway that fateful day.
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