#getting worked up to defend this movie
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anotherfanaccount · 1 year ago
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Even before Jawan released, people were doubtful about Atlee's filmmaking. After release, many were like same to same, ditto, nothing new.
I mean yeah sure, he gets inspired from a lot of places but cutting and stitching and making it presentable is an art itself. We've now more than hundred years of cinema with us, in multiple languages, of multiple cultures. Just in India itself, the multitude is so vast that it's actually criminal that we don't explore it more in our cinemas. Bring it together, show that unity in diversity.
For me what Jawan does is bring in that. We all know srk is the Delhi guy. We all know Nayanthara is the lady superstar from the southern industry. We all know Vijay sethupathi, the master from south. And of course Atlee, the flamboyant director from South. And we see scenes set up in North East, in the borders, in the villages.
I get the criticism that it's staple for movies from south Industry to show villages and ground realities but it's huge for bollywood, especially during these times.
We can argue over languages forever, but we can't deny the reach bollywood has. So to see, the most significant bollywood, Scratch that, the most significant Indian actor, to take on a plot that deals with everything and asks the legit questions in this political climate, is just really important.
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turtleblogatlast · 9 months ago
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I think a lot about Leo standing up for his brothers in the things that really matter to them.
Like- Leo is the one who immediately pushes Mikey and Donnie into finding Raph the second it’s clear that their oldest brother is missing because he knows Raph can’t handle being separated like that.
Leo is the one who stands up for Mikey when Mikey wants to go on a solo mission, actively vouching for him and being the one to convince Raph into letting Mikey go, because being independent and proving himself just as capable of standing on his own two feet as everyone else means so much to Mikey.
And Leo defends Donnie’s honor in particular when his brothers’ intelligence is insulted because Leo is well aware of how important Donnie’s smarts are to him - and how important having those smarts valued and acknowledged is as well.
All this goes right into just how well Leo knows his brothers. For as much as he’ll tease or fight with them, he knows them, and he loves them.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rottmnt headcanons#rise leo#listen Leo loves his family SO MUCH#and like it’s no accident that Leo is consistently the one to give pep talks that#very notably#are less ‘everyone as a group’ and more ‘all of you individually’#it’s heartening to see honestly and like#it works with how he is as both a person and as a fighter#he knows people he knows them so well he knows how they work what they’re like#which is SO USEFUL for subterfuge AND portal/teleportation strategy#my guy is charming his charisma comes from his understanding of people at an individual level#when he wants to be he is very very good at that#he’s still a teen who is too cocky for his own good at times but that does not negate his stellar other moments#he can be selfish he can be mean he can be rude but when push comes to shove he is so quick to stand up for his family#Mikey’s statement at the end of the movie about how Leo NEVER gave up on THEM is so important because it’s not JUST about the movie!!#that’s Leo as a whole he will never give up on his bros#portal jacked is telling of this too because although it has a lot of comedic moments#never once does Leo stop looking for a way to get his bros back#they’re everything to him#he’s the face man he’s a people person and he’s the number 1 pet turtle which I will discuss the implications of in this essay-#Will also say that when Leo does these moments of standing up for his bros he’s never expecting praise for it#he’s just glad they find Raph he just smiles when Mikey tells him he loves him he never mentions defending Donnie#leo has a tendency to show off fancy glittery moves but his real actions and feelings are sooo much more lowkey#that you have to be actively looking for them to catch them all#and I really really like that about him it’s so interesting HE is so interesting
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genericpuff · 2 years ago
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Genuinely curious as to if you asked permission to use Rachel’s characters and she said yes or if you just decided Lore Olympus is popular enough to make a fan comic of and are hoping you don’t receive a cease and desist? Can anyone create a remake comic of original content and just change what you don’t like about it and it’s considered legal if you say the characters belong to the original creator? There is plenty of disappointing media out there that could be remade. I understand you cannot use their characters for profit so is just posting it ok?
Yes, anyone can, because it's called fanfiction lmao Obviously in my case the term "fan" is being used loosely here as at this point it's more like "foe"fiction LMAO but the same principles apply. Unless I try to claim LO is my own creation or make a profit off Rekindled, I should be in the clear. If legal action was taken against me then it would set a precedent against all forms of fanfiction, rewrite, redraw, etc. content around LO which are all essentially doing the same thing Rekindled is doing. I think people tend to view Rekindled as somewhat of an "exception" that's vulnerable to legal action because it's an actual weekly comic put into practice in the same playing field as LO (though they're on massively different bases obviously LOL), but there's not much more separating it from the LO redraw accounts or even the genuine fan accounts that have learned how to draw in Rachel's style (and use it to make their own LO self-inserts and whatnot). I had the time and resources and experience to do what I do through Rekindled, but every redraw, rewrite, fanfiction, etc. account are making the exact same statement I am, whether intentionally or not - "I do/don't like the canon, but/so here's what I think it would be like if it went like this".
There is definitely plenty of media out there that could be remade, and a lot of them are by the fanfiction writers out there who are filling that niche within their respective fandoms. LO is the one I want to do because it's the one that interests me and compels me the most to rewrite.
Not to mention, it's already a bold statement in and of itself to say that I'm "using Rachel's characters", a statement that likely wouldn't hold up in court LMAO Her "characters" are literally just stylized self-insert versions of public domain figures. She did not write The Hymn to Demeter. She did not create Hades, or Persephone, or Hecate, or any of the other characters she writes about. She does not own an entire religion or its deities. The only thing that she really "owns" is the licensing rights to the name "Lore Olympus", and while the style of LO is very unique and identifiable, you can't trademark/copyright a style because that uproots the entire foundation of what art is (ironically no one has had an original idea SINCE the Greeks, we all just learn and adapt our styles based on other artists that we get inspired by and learn from).
Shit, there are series completely unrelated to LO that get harassed or otherwise warned that they could cross into "legal territory" with LO just because they're Greek myth comics. Punderworld, Theia Mania, H x P Ficlets, all of these are comics that also tackle the H x P myth, and while they aren't attempting to do the same thing as Rekindled (as they exist on their own terms) it's really disappointing when I see people talk about these comics purely through the scope of Lore Olympus as if LO invented Greek myth. If WT/Rachel tried to pull rank over the story's "characters", they'd be picking a fight with every other Greek myth comic, book, movie, etc. and they oughta know that's not a fight they're gonna win lol
So everything beyond LO's branding is, in and of itself, fanfiction. Rekindled is just another level deeper by being fanfiction of a fanfiction. As long as I'm not profiting off Lore Olympus' namesake or distributing my work with the misconception that I created LO, it's legally fine. Morally, I'm sure it doesn't exactly make me a saint to do it, it definitely took a lot of hubris for me to say "yeah I don't like how you wrote your story enough that I felt the need to rewrite it completely" and I wouldn't blame anyone for thinking doing so is icky. There are certain lines I won't cross - I don't use the general LO hashtags because my content is very critical and my work isn't really for the fans, I don't encourage anyone to "show Rachel" what I do here because none of what I do here is obligated to be seen by her (and I know it wouldn't be in her best interest to see it anyways, she's literally said that she doesn't like criticism so why tf would I wanna show her a comic that exists to criticize her work lol), and I'm not planning on posting it to Webtoons because that's Rachel's territory. I don't want to overstep both in the legal sense and in the moral one. I think it's more than enough for me to just post my stuff here for the people who are seeking it, and not profit off it or directly affiliate it with LO/Rachel beyond crediting.
All that said, in a moral and legal sense, what I'm doing is literally the basis of fanfiction, and I wouldn't be going to such lengths and spending this much time every week putting out episodes every week if I never cared about LO and how it made us all feel, even if some of us don't love it as much as we used to.
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jungwnies · 2 months ago
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TIKTOK TREND WITH YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND | "we listen and we don't judge"
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୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : "we listen and we don't judge" trend
୨ৎ : genre : humor, angsty only if you squint ୨ৎ : tws : light teasing, SLIGHTLY suggestive for lewis and charles ୨ৎ : word count : 3255
୨ masterlist ৎ
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : race weekend !! can't believe lewis is finally breaking up with mercedes :'(
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ʚ・max verstappen
you and max were sprawled on the couch after dinner, scrolling through your phone, you came across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and turned to max with a mischievous grin.
“max, we’re doing something,” you announced, setting your phone down.
he raised an eyebrow. “what now?”
“it’s this trend. i’ll say ‘we listen and we don’t judge,’ and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve kept from me. then it’s my turn. we go back and forth, no getting mad. deal?”
he smirked, clearly intrigued. “sounds dangerous. but alright, i’m in.”
you grinned. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge.”
max leaned back, rubbing his chin like he was deep in thought. “alright... sometimes, when you’re not around, i watch rom-coms. and yes, i cry a little.”
your jaw dropped, and you smacked his arm lightly. “you cry? you don’t even tear up during sad movies with me!”
“no judging!” he reminded you, laughing. “your turn.”
you sighed, biting back a smile. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i say i’m folding laundry, i’m actually just lying on the bed scrolling on my phone.”
max blinked, a laugh bubbling out of him. “seriously? i knew it took you way too long to fold a few shirts!”
“no judging!” you shot back, grinning. “your turn.”
he grinned, leaning in a little. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i told you i’d stop eating stroopwafels late at night, but i have a secret stash in the garage.”
you gasped dramatically. “the garage? max!”
“you said no judging,” he said smugly. “your turn.”
you rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… remember when your favorite hoodie ‘got lost’? i actually stole it, and it’s hidden in my closet.”
his eyes narrowed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. “so that’s where it went! i’ve been looking for it for months!”
“it’s comfy!” you defended. “last one, your turn.”
max smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… when i say i’m working late at the simulator, half the time i’m just watching motorsport documentaries.”
you stared at him, stunned. “max!”
he laughed, throwing an arm around you. “hey, at least i’m consistent. no judging, remember?”
“fine,” you muttered, shaking your head but smiling. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”
ʚ・lewis hamilton
it was a rare, lazy afternoon at home with lewis, the two of you stretched out on the couch with no obligations for the day. you were scrolling through your phone when a trending couples game caught your attention. immediately, you knew lewis would make this hilarious.
“lewis,” you said, nudging his arm.
he turned to you, smirking. “what is it now?”
“we’re playing a game. it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ i’ll say that, and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve been hiding. then it’s my turn. but no getting mad.”
his smirk deepened, clearly intrigued. “no getting mad? sounds like this might end in trouble.”
“just go with it,” you said, grinning. “you’re up first. we listen, and we don’t judge.”
he leaned back, tapping his chin like he was debating the perfect confession. “alright… we listen, and we don’t judge. i once borrowed your face cream, and now i’m low-key addicted to your skincare routine.”
you blinked at him, your jaw dropping. “you’re the reason i keep running out so fast?”
he grinned sheepishly. “your stuff’s top tier. what can i say?”
“unbelievable.” you shook your head, but you couldn’t stop laughing. “fine, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge... i sometimes hide the remote under the couch cushion when you won’t stop flipping channels.”
his mouth fell open in mock shock. “that’s why i can never find it?!”
“no judging!” you reminded him, biting back a laugh.
“alright, alright,” he said, sitting up straighter. “we listen, and we don’t judge... when i say i’m texting toto, sometimes i’m actually looking at old pictures of roscoe.”
you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “roscoe’s been getting all the attention while i’ve been sitting here, huh?”
“he’s my boy,” lewis said with a shrug, a proud grin on his face. “your turn.”
you smirked, thinking for a moment. “we listen, and we don’t judge... i may or may not have eaten the last slice of cake and blamed it on you forgetting it in the fridge.”
he pointed at you, his eyes wide. “you did that? i thought i was losing my mind!”
“no judging!” you said, giggling.
“fine,” he said, shaking his head but laughing. “last one. we listen, and we don’t judge... i keep your voice notes on my phone and listen to them when—”
before he could finish, you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “lewis!”
he was already cracking up, raising his hands in surrender. “you said no judging!”
“and you’re breaking the rules of decency!” you shot back, hitting him again as he laughed harder.
he eventually grabbed the pillow from you, pulling you into his lap. “you’re lucky i love you. even if you ate my cake.”
“you’re lucky i love you,” you teased back, resting your forehead against his. “even if roscoe gets all your attention.”
ʚ・george russell
it was one of those chill evenings at home, where neither of you had any pressing plans. george was scrolling through his phone, half paying attention to whatever was on tv, when you suddenly sat up with a mischievous grin.
“george,” you started, already giggling.
he glanced over, instantly suspicious. “what have i done now?”
“nothing… yet. but we’re playing a game,” you said. “it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ we take turns confessing random, stupid things, and the other person can’t get mad or judge.”
he narrowed his eyes, clearly trying not to laugh. “this sounds like a trap.”
“it’s not a trap!” you promised. “come on, i’ll start. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re out, i play f1 23 just so i can crash your car and watch it fly into the barriers.”
his jaw dropped. “my car?! my poor car! how could you?”
“no judging!” you reminded him, grinning. “your turn.”
he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “alright, fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… once, when you were in the shower, i tried on your slippers, and honestly? i get why you love them so much. they’re so soft.”
you stared at him, stunned, before bursting into laughter. “you mean to tell me you’ve been walking around in my fluffy bunny slippers?”
“not walking,” he said defensively. “just… trying them on.”
“sure,” you said, still laughing. “okay, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge… one time, i accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the wash and blamed it on the dryer.”
george’s eyes went wide. “that was you?! i thought i’d bulked up!”
“no judging!” you said quickly, holding back another laugh. “your turn.”
he leaned back, a mischievous grin on his face. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re asleep, i watch those weird, satisfying carpet-cleaning videos on youtube.”
you blinked at him, trying not to laugh. “you’re telling me you’re out here binge-watching carpet scrubbing at 2 a.m.?”
“they’re oddly relaxing!” he said with mock indignation. “your turn.”
you smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i stole one of your racing socks once because i couldn’t find mine, and i still have it.”
“oh, so that’s why i’ve been missing one sock this whole time!” he said, pointing at you dramatically.
“you weren’t supposed to notice!”
george laughed, pulling you into his arms. “this game is wild, but now i’m going to look at my socks, slippers, and sweaters very differently. also, we’re getting you your own racing socks.”
ʚ・carlos sainz
it was one of those laid-back evenings, the two of you lounging on the couch, tiktok videos filling the quiet air between laughs. carlos had his phone propped up on the armrest, both of you scrolling through videos. when you came across one of those “we listen and we don’t judge” videos, your eyes lit up.
“we should do that,” you said, grinning at him.
carlos raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “tú y yo? (you and me?) i don’t know… are you sure you’re ready for my confessions?”
you crossed your arms and smirked. “oh, please. i bet you have nothing on me.”
“alright then,” he said, locking his phone and turning fully toward you. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you ask me to fix something around the house, i pretend i don’t know how so you’ll do it.”
you stared at him, wide-eyed. “carlos! you’ve been faking it?”
“no judging!” he said, smirking back at you, completely unfazed. “your turn.”
you shook your head in disbelief but couldn’t help but laugh. “fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once took a picture of your car keys just so i could send it to you and pretend i had your keys when i’d lost mine.”
his eyes widened. “wait, so you’ve been using my keys to trick me into thinking you didn’t lose yours?!”
“yeah, well… no judging!” you said, grinning.
carlos leaned back, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you get me to help you clean, i do half the work and then take a break to watch racing highlights on my phone.”
you stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. “you’re literally cleaning with one hand and watching f1 with the other?”
“isn’t that multitasking?” he said, shrugging with a teasing grin. “your turn.”
you rolled your eyes, but your lips couldn’t stop smiling. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been secretly eating your chocolate stash. and no, i don’t plan to stop.”
carlos leaned toward you, pretending to be shocked. “¿qué? (what?) you’ve been stealing my chocolate? that’s it, i’m hiding it next time!”
you giggled, shrugging innocently. “no judging!”
carlos pulled you closer, laughing softly. “alright, alright. you’ve won this round, but next time, i’m keeping my keys—and my chocolate—locked up.”
you smirked, resting your head on his shoulder. “no judgment, remember?”
ʚ・charles leclerc
charles was sitting at the piano, playing casually, while you were scrolling through tiktok. you stumbled across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and couldn't resist showing him.
“amour, look at this. we should try it.”
he looked up from the keys, a playful grin on his face. “what is it? another tiktok trend i’ll regret?”
you showed him the video. “it’s a confession game. we take turns sharing things we’ve kept secret, and the other person can’t judge. we listen and we don’t judge.”
he raised an eyebrow. “you know i’m already regretting this, right mon amour?”
you laughed. “don’t be dramatic. we listen and we don’t judge.”
“alright, alright,” he said, stretching. “i'll go first…we listen, and we don’t judge… i used all your shampoo in the shower once, and when i realized it was nearly empty, i just told you it was already like that, so i threw it out while i was cleaning.”
you blinked, looking surprised. “charles! and you didn't even buy more!”
charles laughed. “at least i put it in the recycling, right?”
“no judgment…i guess." you chuckled, shaking your head. "alright, your my. but i’m keeping track of this, and i'm checking how much shampoo is left every time i get in the shower!”
you take a deep breath before giving him a cheeky grin, “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… when i told you i knew how to cook that fancy dinner, i was actually watching youtube tutorials the whole time. i burnt it twice, so i just pretended i forgot and ordered something instead.”
charles burst out laughing. “i knew it! it tasted too good to be true. so, you’ve been secretly lying to me this whole time?”
you shrugged innocently. “we listen, we don’t judge.”
he raised his hands in surrender. “fine, no judgment.”
then, he leaned in a little closer, his grin turning slightly mischievous. “okay, last one, but don’t judge, alright amour? i… sometimes fantasize about you in that dress you wore the other night… and how it’d look when you—”
“shut up, charles!” you cut him off, quickly throwing a pillow at him. “don’t say that out loud!”
charles just laughed harder, hands up in defense. “what? you said we listen and we don’t judge!”
“i didn’t say you could be that honest!” you shot back, laughing as you tried to grab the pillow back.
he grabbed it first, pulling you closer and holding you in his arms. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you’re stealing my shampoo.”
you grinned, leaning your forehead against his. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you make me blush with your terrible flirting.”
charles winked. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”
ʚ・lando norris
you and lando were sprawled on the couch, both scrolling through tiktok when you came across the “we listen and we don’t judge” trend. you smirked, nudging him.
“hey, this looks fun. we should do it,” you said.
lando glanced at the screen, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “oh, i’m so in. i’ve got a few things i’ve been meaning to get off my chest.”
you laughed, knowing this could get interesting. “alright, we listen, and we don’t judge.”
lando immediately sat up straighter, ready to spill. “okay, okay. i’ve got one. we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been telling you i’m really good at making spaghetti, but the truth is, i just pour sauce over it and hope for the best. i don’t actually know how to cook it properly.”
you stared at him. “wait, you’ve been lying about being a chef this whole time?”
lando shrugs, looking way too proud of himself. “hey, it works. you still like it, don’t you?”
you couldn’t help but laugh. “i don’t even know what to say to that. you’re like a pasta fraud.”
he leaned back, looking smug. “i’ve never been caught, so it’s all good.”
“alright, my turn,” you said, smirking. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i once accidentally ate all your leftover pizza and just left the box in the fridge like nothing happened. i thought you wouldn’t notice.”
lando’s eyes widened. “noooooo, you didn’t! you ate the pizza and didn’t even say anything?”
you nodded, trying not to laugh. “yep. i was hungry.”
he rubbed his temples. “this is worse than the spaghetti. at least i knew what i was doing with that!”
“hey, we don’t judge,” you shot back.
lando paused, looking like he was trying to think of something equally embarrassing to share. “alright, alright. this one’s a good one. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i’m on facetime with you, i don’t really pay attention. i just let you talk while i’m scrolling through instagram or playing games. but i’m good at pretending like i’m listening.”
you stared at him, wide-eyed. “what? no way. so all those times i thought you were listening to me, you were just—what? ignoring me?”
he winced, shrugging. “i mean, yeah. but i still love you, i promise! i’m just multitasking.”
“lando!” you threw a pillow at him. “i can’t believe you! that’s a whole new level of rude.”
he ducked, still laughing. “we listen, and we don’t judge!”
you rolled your eyes. “yeah, well, i’m judging. big time.”
then you paused, smirking. “fine. one more. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once tried to sneakily eat all your chocolate bars, but i was so obvious about it that you caught me before i even finished.”
lando couldn’t help but laugh. “what?! you didn’t even hide it well?”
you shrugged. “i panicked, okay? i thought i could get away with it.”
“i can’t with you,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re lucky i love you, even though you’re a snack thief and a liar.”
you grinned. “i’m lucky you love me, even though you can’t even cook spaghetti properly.”
he smirked. “you’re lucky i still cook for you, pizza thief.”
ʚ・oscar piastri
you and oscar were curled up on the sofa in your shared apartment, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok. a video popped up showcasing the "we listen and we don't judge" trend, and you nudged oscar with your elbow.
"hey, this looks fun," you said, grinning. "we should do it."
oscar, his eyes still glued to his phone, shrugged. "sure, why not?" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "though i can't imagine having any confessions that are that scandalous."
"oh, you'd be surprised," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "everyone has secrets, oscar."
he chuckled, finally tearing his gaze away from the screen. "alright, let's do it. we listen, and we don't judge."
you took a deep breath, a mischievous glint in your eye. "okay, here goes. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have 'accidentally' shrunk your favorite mclaren hoodie in the wash. like, significantly."
oscar's eyes widened in horror. "you what?!" he exclaimed, leaping off the couch to inspect the damage. "not the hoodie with the papaya stripe! that was vintage!"
you winced, trying to hide your amusement. "it was an accident! i swear! i must have mixed up the settings on the washing machine."
he held up the shrunken garment, now more suitable for a toddler than a formula 1 driver. "y/n, this looks like something a chihuahua would wear!"
you burst out laughing. "okay, okay, i messed up. but hey, maybe it'll make a comeback as a crop top?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
oscar sighed, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "alright, alright. my turn. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have accidentally reversed your car into the mailbox last week."
your jaw dropped. "what?! the mailbox that's now leaning at a 45-degree angle? that was you?!"
he cringed. "yeah, about that… i was in a bit of a rush, and i may have misjudged the distance."
"misjudged the distance?" you repeated incredulously. "oscar, you're a formula 1 driver! you judge distances for a living!"
he shrugged sheepishly. "everyone makes mistakes, okay? besides, it's not like i crashed an actual race car."
you shook your head, still in disbelief. "this is unbelievable. what's next, are you going to admit you can't actually cook?"
oscar's eyes widened, and he quickly changed the subject. "okay, your turn! let's hear another confession."
you smirked, knowing you had him on the ropes. "alright, fine. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have pretended to like your favorite band just to impress you when we first started dating."
he gasped dramatically. "you mean you don't actually enjoy listening to that obscure australian rock band?"
you cringed. "okay, maybe 'enjoy' is a strong word. but i've grown to appreciate them… sort of."
oscar burst out laughing. "this is too good! i can't believe you've been faking it this whole time!"
you playfully punched his arm. "hey, at least i tried! besides, it's not like you haven't exaggerated your cooking skills."
he grinned, pulling you closer. "touché. well, i guess we're both full of surprises."
you snuggled into his side, still chuckling. "yeah, i guess we are. but hey, at least we can be honest with each other, right?"
"absolutely," he agreed, kissing your forehead. "we listen, and we don't judge… mostly."
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© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate
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forchosangwoo · 1 month ago
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— relationship w cho sangwoo ☆ sfw + nsfw headcannons
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warnings : mdni, nsfw notes : first time writing headcannons on this account! hope yall like it and that no one thinks its really bad TT feel free to leave feedback <3 this is written with a female reader in mind but all genders are welcome!!
SFW . . . !
he'd love to take you to expensive or nice restaurants on his day offs.
he'd give you lots of gifts rather than words of affection since he has trouble expressing his feelings to anyone.
he'd would cuddle you after he finishes his work. he'd kiss your forehead and run his hands through his hair as you drift to sleep.
if you were cooking something for dinner, he'd come and help you.
he'd love to hold your hand or waist in public, making sure everyone knows you're his.
when someone else starts flirting with you, he'd get super jealous. he'd give them a glare and pull you closer to himself.
if he's away from home, he'd send you "good morning" and "good night" texts to you everyday.
he'd be the bigger spoon when cuddling in bed.
he'd have a picture of you in his wallet and on his phone wallpaper. he'd smile every time he sees it.
he trusts you a lot and would slowly start opening up to you about his problems but would still be careful to not burden you.
he would love to listen to your yapping.
he'd always let you pick a movie to watch together and he'd end up watching you instead of the movie.
he'd ask you questions about your interests just so he could hear you talk more. he finds it cute.
when you compliment him, he smile to himself and defend himself humbly. however, eventually he would give in and start teasing you back.
he'd love to shower with you together and help wash your hair.
NSFW . . . !
he'd give you LOTS of praise but mostly "good girl".
he definitely prefers being dom but would try out being sub if you wanted him to since he loves you.
he'd start soft and gentle but then start becoming rougher and rougher until you begin to cry out.
he'd love hearing you being vocal and reacting to his touch.
he'd make sure not to overstimulate you and be careful to not cause you any pain.
he'd collapse on top of you as he cums onto your stomach and kisses your neck.
he'd prefer to receive oral since he loves playing with your hair as you pleasure him, although of course he also loves to eat you out and pleasure you too.
he'd give the BEST after care. every time he'd make sure to clean you and everything up and shower you with love. he'd whisper sweet and affectionate words to you before falling asleep while holding each other close.
Thank you so much for reading! More coming soon . . ?
1K notes · View notes
sirfrogsworth · 1 year ago
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Do you remember that Aussie sword guy who used to talk about medieval weapons?
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And, like, he seemed pretty good at talking about swords and shit. He seemed to have a good grasp of the history and tactics. He'd analyze movie weapons for their realism and that was fun. He did demonstrations with real weapons. For a time I really looked forward to his videos popping up in my feed.
He seemed like a harmless sword-fighting aficionado.
But then I guess he wanted to spread his wings. So he started down an anti-woke path. Giving questionable critiques about media and feminism. He started defending boob armor by showing historical examples even though most of those were decorative and not battle ready like in the games.
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Then he admitted he was a fan of The Daily Wire.
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And that was disappointing.
I missed him nerding out about swords, ya know?
Well, Shad decided to spread his wings again.
He has become...
*bad French accent* An artiste.
You see, he types words into a little box. Then a little robot does a google image search and steals a bunch of art. Then that robot reconfigures that art to be nearly indistinguishable from the source material. Well... aside from the occasional artist watermark.
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Whoops!
A.I. art is very difficult. Sometimes when you type words into the box you get a woman with 5 lopsided anime tiddies. Or 20 fingers on one hand. It takes time and effort and experience to type in the perfect magic words so that you get something close to your imagination that doesn't belong in some sort of Lovecraftian horror ripoff.
For example, check out this cool "pirate hat" I asked A.I. to place on my head.
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Clearly, I am not skilled enough at typing words into a box to get a proper pirate hat.
It. Is. Not. Easy.
I heard someone say you have to type things in a box for 10,000 hours before you start getting truly masterful generations.
I mean, you can't type "marathon runners" and expect that to actually work.
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THIS REQUIRES SKILL, PEOPLE.
And I am a lowly amateur. I can only dream of becoming the box-typist Shad has honed himself into.
The thing is... Shad is very upset.
He is upset that you don't like his "art" and he is ready to die on this hill.
So... before he croaks on a mound of bullshit, he has something to show you. He has created something truly brilliant and when you see it, he is convinced you will validate his considerable efforts.
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Before I show you his "Not. Easy." artistic masterpiece I'd like you to sit with what he has said for a second.
Ruminate in the verbiage.
Process the ideas and points of view presented.
Digest his plea for you to accept and love his hard won battle after typing words into a box to manifest his imaginings.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Have you sat?
Ruminated?
Processed?
Digested?
Okay, here it is...
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8K notes · View notes
dilf-docs · 2 months ago
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It Always Leads To You
joel miller x younger fem!reader
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summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!
word count: 5,199 words
side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)
part: I / II
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Holidays linger like bad perfume.
Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.
"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.
There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.
You nod. "Just tired. That's all"
He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"
"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.
He makes a funny face, and you laugh.
"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"
He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.
"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"
"Hey" Nick calls you out.
"Yeah?"
"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.
It's his. Joel's house.
"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.
It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.
"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"
"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.
"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"
You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.
"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"
Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.
As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:
"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"
"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"
"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.
"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"
The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.
There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.
You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.
Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?
You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.
"I-I need some air"
It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.
You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.
You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.
"Need help?"
That you're wrong, apparently.
You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.
He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.
"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.
You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.
"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.
"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"
"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"
You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.
"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.
"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"
"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"
Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.
"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"
Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.
"Y/n-"
"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"
As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.
"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"
Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.
"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"
The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.
As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.
"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"
He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.
The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.
"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.
"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"
"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.
Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.
"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"
"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.
"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"
You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.
He'll pay for that.
"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"
It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.
"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.
"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"
"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.
He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.
"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"
The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.
"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"
Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.
It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.
You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.
The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.
"Can't sleep?"
You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.
"Not much of a talker, are you?"
"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.
You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.
"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"
"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.
He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.
"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.
He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.
"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.
If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.
A goddamn coward.
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Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.
You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.
"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"
"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"
You nod, still absent as he walks away.
"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.
"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.
"Put this in there, will ya'?"
He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.
"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.
"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.
"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.
Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.
Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.
"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"
Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.
"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.
You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.
"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.
"You think that low of me? Please"
You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.
"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."
"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"
Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.
"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"
Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.
"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"
You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.
"You didn't tell me you were close"
"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"
"He still got you a present, though"
You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.
"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"
Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.
Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.
"What is it?" your dad asks.
"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.
You remember it all too well.
"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.
But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.
"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.
You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.
As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.
"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"
The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.
"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.
You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.
"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"
You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.
"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.
"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.
"What the hell?"
This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.
"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.
"No?"
"It isn't fair"
"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"
"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"
He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.
"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"
Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.
"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"
His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.
"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"
He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.
Joel teases your needy core with his finger.
"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"
He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.
"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.
"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"
He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.
"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.
Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.
"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"
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It's New Year's Eve.
"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.
And now, Nick is leaving.
"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"
You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.
He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"
"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"
"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"
You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.
"See you, y/n. I love you"
Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.
Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.
"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.
"I ain't do shit"
You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"
"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.
"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"
"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"
Your breath hitches.
"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"
He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.
"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.
This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.
He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.
"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.
"Don't"
Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.
Your dress was the first thing to go.
"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"
"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"
He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.
"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.
He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.
"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"
"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"
He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"
You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.
"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"
"Do it, Joel. Just do it"
You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.
His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.
"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"
You needed him, all of him.
"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.
You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.
Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.
"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"
"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"
He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.
"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"
Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.
The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"
He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.
Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.
After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.
The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.
"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"
He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.
Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy
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Hearing my ma go off about betrayed trust like 💀
It's not that deep not everything some does or doesnt do that you Dont like is Not a dig at you
Like my sibling didnt mention they gave 20 dollars to a friend for a game. I dont think it's unreasonable for my ma to have want to know but also it's not unreasonable for my sibling to have just not said. My sibling has hundreds of dollars, im sure 20 seems inconsequential. Should they have lied and said 5 dollars when asked? No, especially not with how hypocritical my ma is about even the "smallest of lies". But should my ma have feelings of betrayal at not being told to begin with? Also no, my ma just likes to think every behavior she doesnt like is an intentional personal attack
Like 1 time i was punished and had to leave my smartphone at home and take a backup phone to school. Keyword: school. I have no reason to be on the phone that has no apps no web right? And my ma doesnt always text me during school. She also told me i dont need to keep the phone On. So i left it off the whole day except for when i check my phone at lunch, around the time she texts me yeah? I dont get any texts so i turn the phone back off until after school. Turns out my ma texted me a Little bit after i turned off the phone. But she starts berating me about not texting her as a way to get back at her for punishing me and taking away my phone. I was just so ??? Damn confused. I explained to her that i turned my phone on at lunch and then turned back off after and she didnt care? And then she was like why did you have the phone off anyways? I told her she said to leave it off. She said she meant the ringer and i didnt know how to do that but also she said i could turn the phone off. She didnt care, she thought she disproved me and i was just trying to make excuses for trying to get back at her. I Might have told her i was going to answer during class and i dont have time during passing cause my classes were so far. She still didnt care. She put it in her mind i was trying to punish her for punishing me and so that's it. I wouldnt be able to change her mind
#rey speaks#my ma is a frustrating woman#i hate living with her#and i cant even defend my siblings because she'll take that as a personal attack and. she gets scary :(#i cant handle being yelled at. like im 1 part desensitized 1 part really bummed#one time i tried to defend my brother who cried at the end of baby driver. he was like in kindergarten#and she was being insensitive and yelling at him because why is he crying at a not sad movie?#i had enough she was being a real bitch for that so i told her she was like my bros teacher who yells for no reason#and that yelling isnt going to make him stop crying it just worsens the pressure#the only good thing about sticking up for my brother?#is that my ma started yelling at Me. how DARE i compare my ma to such a bitch of a woman. she works hard to be a good mom#my ma feels bad about that night (good) but she never brings up what i told her (so she prob forgot)#my ma is extremely emotionally constipated and has severe trust issues :'(#i really hate living with her. but our relationship has gotten better#recently she told ne she was upset with me for how i treated my siblings when i was a teenager#(we butted heads because i was lazy unmotivated and not a good enough sister: because i was a witch mind you. not bitch)#i found it really hard to love my siblings when they didnt respect my personal space and my ma insisted they dont care#like i mean it. i was prepared to never be loved by my siblings if it meant i got the space i wanted and deserved as a person.#im so thankful i have a good relationship with my siblings. but i also would have been okay with that not being the case#there was a short time i hated my ma for how she Expected me to act. and for threatening to cart me off with my stranger perv of a biofathe#oop i derailed this post lmao rip#this is probably the sort of trauma only therapy can fix. or these v_nt posts :')
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covenofagatha · 4 months ago
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Birthday Girl
On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.
Word count: 3400+
Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)
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“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them. 
You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group. 
“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan. 
“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand. 
“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag. 
“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk. 
“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!” 
You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her. 
Everyone except for you. 
Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it. 
“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.” 
“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way. 
“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”
You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.” You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time. 
“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops. 
Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms. 
“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. 
“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!” 
You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner. 
“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal. 
When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor. 
“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea. 
You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow. 
“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear. 
It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects. 
“Hello?” It’s actually her. 
Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?” 
“Y/n? Is that you?” 
“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though. 
“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?” 
“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely. 
Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”
“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone. 
“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested. 
“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!” 
“What bar are you at?” 
“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at. 
“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?
You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand. 
“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second. 
“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.
Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her. 
“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends. 
The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you. 
And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches. 
It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders. 
“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.
“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words. 
She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says. 
Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked. 
“Oh?”
“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now. 
Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers. 
“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck. 
Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.” 
The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle. 
“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused. 
“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.” 
“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?” 
“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.” 
She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.” 
Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.” 
“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink. 
“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions. 
“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”
A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued. 
She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood. 
“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly. 
“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair. 
She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better. 
“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it. 
“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth. 
“Anything for my favorite student.” 
And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself. 
“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–” 
She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away. 
“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.
You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.” 
She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.” 
You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.
“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room. 
She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks. 
“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks. 
“M’sorry,” you mumble. 
“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?” 
Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip. 
“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.
You fall asleep immediately. 
***
Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you. 
The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit. 
You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you. 
And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions. 
You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night. 
No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.
“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low. 
“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out. 
“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying. 
“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body. 
“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?” 
You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you. 
You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back. 
“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying. 
Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.
“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.” 
She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.” 
You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” 
She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair. 
“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.
Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation. 
“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile. 
“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness. 
“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole. 
“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard. 
“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth. 
“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”
“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty. 
She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table. 
“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!” 
She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you. 
“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth. 
“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath. 
“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.” 
Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table. 
You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?” 
A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.” 
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago
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SINCE YOU'VE BEEN LIKE THIS ♡
pairing: light yagami x fem!reader x l lawliet
summary: you and light have been a pair for as long as you can remember, but lately he's been pulling away. in your time of uncertainty, you end up getting close to l, maybe a little too close. now light's back to normal though, and you're left to figure out how you want to fix the mess you've made.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, double penetration, fingering, handjob, threesome, voyeurism/exhibitionism, praise/degradation, infidelity, messy behavior in general, light angst here and there
wc: 19.6k
a/n: finally it is here <3 sorry for the delay, it has been a rough couple weeks. reblogs, comments, and asks are always appreciated <3 also i just have to put out there that my main in mario kart is waluigi till the day i perish 🙏
kinktober slot: day 27 - double penetration
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"Light, can you slow down a little? Or at least tell me where we're going?" you called out to your boyfriend walking three paces ahead of you. Three paces he seemed hellbent on keeping between you and him.
He didn't answer your plea. Didn't even spare you a glance. On the contrary, you were pretty sure he sped up ever so slightly.
With a petulant huff, you tried to follow him along the crowded street as best you could. It was just difficult when you didn't really know why you were here or what you were supposed to be looking for. He never kept you well-informed when it came to his plans. Most of the time, you were shocked he even let you tag along at all.
His eyes constantly darted around between groups of people lining the path in the most subtle way. His head didn't move at all, but his pupils bounced around in every direction. Yours remained on his figure. At first, you'd tried glancing around too, but you couldn't figure out for the life of you who or what he was trying to find. You decided to just focus on not getting lost instead.
Bounding up closer to him, your fingers brushed his own. His hands had always been so smooth and soft. No calluses, no blemishes. No mileage at all. You went to intertwine your fingers together. That was when he finally acknowledged you.
He pulled his hand away.
You frowned, choosing to believe it was accidental. That your boyfriend wouldn't reject you so purposefully. You tried again with more intention, clasping with your whole palm rather than hooking pinkies.
His response matched your increased effort. He bent his arm at the elbow and pulled his hand out of your reach, fully removing the opportunity for physical contact. Then, he scowled at you, and his lips curled into that sneer you were becoming more familiar with these days.
"What are you doing? We're here to work," he said, talking to you the same way he talks to anyone else who inconveniences him, "This isn't a date. Try to focus."
"Light, I-" you went to defend yourself. But he cut you off before you got the chance.
"If you're not interested in helping, then stay out of my way," he directed before turning away.
Your lips closed up again, any words wilting away in your throat like a bouquet of old roses. You swallowed the petals down hard. You couldn't get emotional, let alone cry. If you did that, your lover would never let you hear the end of his disappointment.
Your lover. You didn't even know if it was accurate to call him that anymore. More like you were the lover, and he was your beloved. Your Light.
The two of you had been together in a way for as long as you could remember. Friends as children, crushes in your teens, and now as adults, officially boyfriend and girlfriend. You'd wanted this for so long - to say he belonged to you, that you were the ones who owned each other's hearts. But now that you had that, it didn't feel how you imagined it would.
You looked down as you traversed through the crowd. 
The relationship between you and Light didn't feel like a fairy tale. It didn't resemble the romantic movies he used to tease you for liking. You could never imagine him kissing you in the rain or singing some love song or whatever else the guys in those movies did to win back the girls after hurting them.
When Light hurt you, either by brushing you off or saying words cold enough to freeze your pumping heart, he barely even said sorry. He'd give you the look, mutter a "I didn't mean it like that," and if you were lucky, half-hug you and kiss the crown of your head.
He hadn't always been so uncaring. A cloud had cast over him at some point during your teenage years, worse than any usual case of angst. His mental storm seemed to block out any rays of sunlight permanently. In recent months, it had gotten worse. Ever since the start of this investigation. 
The two of you were supposed to be entering the primes of your lives. Enrolled in university, beginning everything together. But he just grew darker by the day, and you didn't know how to stop it. You could feel him dissolving into ash between your fingers. Slipping away while you desperately tried to hold onto whatever you could.
Barbs started to form in your throat and clearing it didn't help any. Reflecting on your crumbling relationship always reduced you to a state of silence or tears. 
You counted the cracks in the street as you walked. It didn't matter to you if you lagged behind and got separated from Light at this point. He made it clear you weren't needed nor wanted. Getting lost wouldn't really mean anything. You could just make your way back to the task force earlier than you'd anticipated. He probably wouldn't even notice your absence.
A few steps ahead, you bumped into his back, earning another glare. He seemed to have come to a dead end in his search. Groaning in frustration, his eyes landed upon you, even harsher than before.
"Don't just stare at me!" he snapped, "Call back to the task force. Let them know we'll be returning soon."
The words struck you as if they were physical arrows. You turned away and pulled out your phone, flipping it open and dialing the number. The tone rang over the painful silence between you two. You tried to choke down any scratchiness your emotions could cause in your voice before someone answered the phone.
Suddenly, a calm voice echoed into your ear.
"Yes?"
L.
"Hi... me and Light will be back soon," you said. The less words you used, the less likely you were to crack.
There was a pause. You wondered if he could tell if something was wrong. You almost hoped that was the case.
"Alright. I take it you two didn't see our target?" he asked.
"No," you answered in the same quiet voice, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I didn't expect the two of you would be successful," he said. His voice was soft, like he truly didn't mind. The exact opposite of your boyfriend's. "We'll talk when the both of you return to the hotel."
He hung up first, and you flipped your phone shut seconds after. Turning to face Light, you found him already staring at you.
"He says he'll talk to us when we come back," you informed him.
All you got in response was a nod. He brushed past you in the direction of the hotel everyone was at for the day. Following along behind him, you didn't say anything. You folded your arms over your chest, not in defiance or anger. It felt defensive.
As you trailed him, the thoughts swirling through your mind consumed most of your attention. Why did you even continue doing this? You were just as much a member of the task force as Light, but he treated you like you were a secretary at best. 
In the past, your father had worked with Mr. Yagami as a detective. You'd grown up in the world of suspects and investigations, taught to solve puzzles since you were old enough to keep yourself upright on your dad's lap at his desk. 
L himself had approved you to work on the Kira investigation independent of that fact. He saw that you could keep up. But still, it felt like everyone treated you as Light's sidekick. You were cute! Smart for a girl. So sweet to dedicate all this time to helping your boyfriend.
By the time you reached the elevator, you were talking yourself up to quitting. You wanted to catch Kira. You believed in this job. But maybe if you cut your losses now, you could still salvage a relationship with Light. Or at least your perception of him. You wouldn't come to resent him if he wasn't yelling at you day in and day out.
You stayed behind him as the two of you walked down the hallway to the room. The lamps lining the walls flickered, making the already dim lighting worse. Your eyes stayed down on your shoes through the entryway and into the room. Light briefly caught up his dad on the day's events, and then you heard that same voice that talked to you over the phone.
You looked up. And suddenly, quitting didn't seem like such a perfect plan.
The syllables of your name rolled off his tongue like smooth billows of smoke. Something fluttered in your belly that you hadn't felt in a while. You used to feel it for Light until every time he spoke your name, it came out with disdain.
L talked, but you only half-registered the words. He was more focused on the points your boyfriend was firing at him anyway. You watched how his dark eyes focused as he absorbed everything about the conversation happening between them.
Your own gaze on him held nothing but admiration. You felt things about L that you wouldn't be able to articulate if asked. At first, you had the same reaction to him that everyone did. You thought he was strange. From the way he sat to his eating habits, you didn't understand him. But over the course of the investigation, you dedicated yourself to trying.
In a way, you looked to him as an aspiration. The pinnacle in the field of investigation. Quite possibly the smartest man in the world (though you'd bet Light would roll his eyes if he heard you say that out loud).
As you watched him now, his crooked posture and jaw rotating while he chewed on some saccharine treat, you began to mentally revise some of your earlier thoughts.
He was the only one who didn't view you as an extension of Light. When you were working with him, you weren't the feminine version of someone else. You were just you.
The only time you believed you deserved to be here just as much as Light was when you were sitting near L. You'd propose an idea or question something, and the way he would look at you made you feel like you weren't just a little kid everyone allowed to play dress up among adults. He'd give you a simple praise. "Nice work," or "Could be. Interesting." And you'd beam like you'd been given a trophy.
Right now though, even his proximity didn't help to brighten your mood. The clouds from your boyfriend snapping at you hadn't cleared just yet.
The conversation occurring in front of you came to a close. Light gave a quick goodbye and then turned to head out after his father. He clearly expected you to follow, but before you could, something else drew your focus. L, saying your name again.
"If you could, may I ask you to stay for a few moments?" he said, expression unchanging.
"What do you need to talk to her for?" Light interjected before you had the chance to answer.
Your head swiveled between the two of them. On one side was L, calm and unbothered by the clipped nature of your boyfriend's voice. On the other was the latter, his mouth twitching with the urge to scowl.
If you didn't know Light as well as you do, you might have thought this was a bout of jealousy. With the current state of things between you two, that might have even made you happy. A sign that he was still invested in you. But you did know him, so you knew that if anything, he was jealous of the fact that L had deemed information suitable for only you.
"It's nothing serious. Just a few questions about some files she brought to my attention last week," L further explained.
You stood there unmoving, as if you needed Light's permission to talk to your teammate. Looking back at him, you waited for some sign of approval.
He glanced at you and then back at the man behind you before shrugging.
"Fine. I'll see you later," he told you, barely saying goodbye as he exited.
The rest of the task force had also cleared the room for the day, leaving you and L in the cool hotel room alone. Your eyes glanced around to distract your mind from the awkwardness of the situation. The tacky pink wallpaper plastered all around you felt like it was closing in at the moment. The only sound between the four walls was the hum of the air conditioner. That was until he waved you over to the sitting area.
"Come here for a second. I wanted to talk to you." His voice sounded as though he didn't feel any of the tension you did.
You followed him as you had followed Light earlier, quiet and lagging behind a few steps. You took a seat on the ivory loveseat against the wall. He slid around the table. You expected him to sit in the chair at the end of the coffee table like he usually did, but instead, he landed next to you on the chiffon cushions. Your heart skipped a beat. You wondered if he was about to give you some sort of bad news. Maybe you'd made a mistake in your work. Maybe you were now a suspect too.
Regardless of what it was, he bent his legs up so his feet rested on the material. His normal crouching position put you at ease.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
You blinked at the question. "Um... no?" you said.
He hummed in acknowledgement. His process of studying one's features was slightly less endearing when you were the target.
"You seem upset. Are you sure you're alright?" he tried again.
"Yeah," you nodded. Your eyes cast down to your lap. "I'm ok, really. I'm sorry if I seem a little off. Just not a great day, I guess."
"Did something happen earlier when you were out?" he said, seeing right through the excuses.
You looked up again, bringing him back into your field of vision. "Not really..." you opted for, though you knew you sounded unconvincing.
"Nothing out of the ordinary?"
"Definitely not out of the ordinary," you sighed before you could stop yourself. Realizing you probably shouldn't have said that, you sunk back against the stiff backing of the sofa.
"What does that mean?" he asked from beside you.
You weren't totally sure why he was going down this line of questioning, but you answered anyway. L had never given you a reason not to trust him.
"It's just stupid stuff. Between me and Light. Nothing you'd want me to bother you with," you shrugged.
"Try me," he said.
You looked at him tentatively.
"Both of you are key members on this task force," he continued, "If something is affecting your ability to work with other members of this team, then I think it's in my best interest to know about it."
A moment of further hesitation passed before you sighed. Your hand rose to your eyes, stretching your fingers over your brow and rubbing at your frustration.
"He just doesn't seem like himself lately," you said, "Or he does, I guess. But he just... he's different with me."
You found your legs pulling closer to your body and your feet perching at the edge of your seat too. Maybe sitting like this did help you think.
"Distant?" L asked from his side of the furniture.
"Sort of... it's like he wants to be distant, but we work together so he can't be. I don't know," you said. You cut yourself short because you could feel your throat beginning to tighten, and you refused to let yourself cry in front of your teammate whose respect you so badly crave.
"Well. The stress of this whole case is probably weighing on Light, especially with him being a suspect..." he said, trailing off in the way he tended to do.
"I guess. It just feels like he can't even stand the sight of me anymore," you said. Your voice cracked the tiniest bit, but you knew he heard it. A shaky breath left you, and you tilted your head back, as if gravity could keep your tears at bay. "Not that long after we started dating, things just got different between us. It's just... disappointing."
The man beside you nodded as if trying to contemplate what to say next. "Have you talked to him about this?"
"Light doesn't do talks like this," you said, barely louder than a whisper.
Another plume of silence rose between the two of you. You swallowed hard, neck still against the back of the couch. Vaguely, you felt the pressure of the seats shifting, the weight on it redistributing.
You took your hand away from your brow and turned your head to find L much closer. His wide eyes stared at you from less than a foot away.
"Someone who cares about you shouldn't be making you so upset," he mused.
To stop your lip from wobbling, you held it between your teeth for a moment. Even though nothing audible came from you, a small drop of water rolled from the outer corner of your eye. Without missing a beat, his thumb came up to wipe it away. If you weren't yearning for someone to care about how you felt, maybe you would have been confused by it. But right then, it felt good.
"He's just so mean now. He was always sharp before but now... he looks at me like he hates me," you whispered.
He seemed to be the one hesitating now. His eyes rested on your features.
"You're an intelligent girl. Light is smart too, of course, but he has no right to order you around or insult you," he said, "I hope you don't feel like you have to put up with that because you work together."
The others had noticed it too then. You hadn't given any specific instances of how he treated you, but he still knew.
"I know I don't have to. I just... I don't know how to be without him," you said, feeling pathetic. You shouldn't need this guy you've only known for such a short amount of time to tell you this stuff. But as he spoke to you with such tenderness, you found yourself wishing he did it more often.
"You know you're a pretty girl. You're sweet and thoughtful. I'm sure there's a lot of people who would feel lucky if you gave them the time of day," he said. The words came out slow, as though he was traversing a field of landmines. "I'm only saying that because staying with someone out of obligation rarely pans out."
You simply nodded in response. What he was saying was the truth. Part of you already knew it. The other part just didn't want to quit yet. It was as if Light was another puzzle, and if you could just put the pieces together right, the picture would form in the end. But the part of you that had already been thinking what you just heard, that was the part that wanted to squirm when you heard the words pretty girl fall from L's lips.
"I know it's not really my place to comment on your relationship," he continued as though he could read your mind, "I just don't want to see you quit this. You're a valuable member of this task force. I would hate to see you run off by petty drama."
You nodded, his words steeling your resolve. "I won't quit this," you confirmed. You wouldn't let Light ruin this for you, but more than that, L wanted you here. And you wanted to be here with him.
"Good," he said while staring back at you. He leaned away from your body and brought his legs down to the floor like he was about to stand. "I don't have anything else to discuss with you. The files thing was just an excuse for Light. You're free to-"
And before you knew what you were really doing, you pushed yourself across the loveseat and crashed your lips against his. To your shock and relief, he didn't push you away. You heard a muffled noise burst out against your mouth, but then you felt him sink into it too. His hand cupped your cheek, and he reciprocated.
A breath you'd been holding since joining this case seeped from your lungs. His lips were so soft, his palm just as delicate. You scooted a little closer to him, feeling the rigidness of his side against your leg. You couldn't remember the last time Light had kissed you like this.
And as that thought crossed your mind, guilt washed over you in a tidal wave.
You pulled back, eyes heavy with the weight of your actions and lips parted so hot puffs of air could flow in and out.
"I'm sorry," you said immediately, "I shouldn't have done that."
He stared back at you, completely motionless for the moment. You started to get up, but he reached out and grabbed your forearm, stopping you.
"Don't be sorry," was all he said at first.
The both of you were trapped here together, locked in the haze of feelings and morals clashing. You wanted to go back in so badly. You wanted to taste him, to feel every detail of his mouth long enough to commit to memory. By the way he was keeping you here, it seemed that he too had some of the same desires.
"I'm sorry because it was unprofessional, not because I don't want to," you clarified softly.
"It was," he agreed, not unhanding you, "I know you're right. It's not a good idea. We should be focused on the case. I shouldn't have involved myself to this degree at all."
The words came out like they're meant to convince himself rather than you.
"Just tell me," he continued, "Did you mean it, or was it a mistake because you're upset?"
"It wasn't a mistake. I meant it. But I can't," you said. But fuck, you wanted to.
He looked so pretty sitting there. His shaggy black hair hung in his eyes which were just as wide and uncertain as yours.
You knew that even though Light could be a huge dick, this was wrong. This wasn't justified, and you should not continue. What you should've done was get up and walk out the door.
But something held you there across from L.
"I understand," he said simply. He wasn't going to force you to do anything. If you strayed from Light, that would be your decision.
'Get up. Get up. Get up,'  repeated in your head over and over. But you didn't follow your own mental advice.
"Did you want it? Or was it just the heat of the moment?" you asked softly.
You could see the indecision written all over his face. To make things more complicated with the truth or let them return to normal under the guise of a lie? The conversation lulled with the delay, but then his silken voice spoke the answer you'd been waiting for.
"I wanted it. I've been wanting it," he told you, "Everyday I see you, it gets harder to stand that I don't have you to myself."
And you knew you shouldn't, but now, you needed to. You pushed yourself forward and closed the gap. His thin arms encircled you to pull you toward him.
"Just this once, we can. Just for tonight, you can. Please," you whispered.
And who was he to deny you?
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The problem with that night was that it hadn't turned out to be just once.
In the moment that you spoke those words, you meant them. You truly intended for it to be a one time thing. A small slice of pleasure you allowed yourself to indulge in. A secret that would weigh on your heart for the rest of your life. A brief lapse in judgment. A mistake.
But after the fact, what transpired between you and L felt like anything but.
One small kiss turned into several which whisked the two of you into a breathless makeout session on that loveseat. After a while, you'd crawled into his lap, and he'd slipped inside you. It was all a blur when you looked back on it now. A night of passion you'd never come close to experiencing before.
Quite honestly before that evening, you never imagined L to be capable of such romantic fervor. You imagined him as a much more distant lover. Similar to Light with the idea that his affection would be subtle. Different in that it wouldn't feel cold.
But for those hours, the word subtle hadn't crossed your mind once. Intense. Dedicated. All-consuming. Those seemed like more appropriate descriptors.
He'd been so good that you basically passed out next to him in the hotel bed afterwards. The two of you slept as if any of what had taken place was normal. Your limbs tangled with one another's while your dreams danced together overhead.
The next morning you came to slowly. You sat up and yawned, your hand lazily rubbing some of the sleep off your face. It took a few seconds of consciousness for panic to shoot through your body as you realized you needed to get up and go home.
Members of the task force would be there within the hour. You couldn't just be here before everyone else, wearing the same outfit as yesterday. It wouldn't take someone with Light's IQ to figure out what that meant.
You scrambled to put on your clothes and gather any belongings you'd need to make your re-arrival look fresh. L began to wake up from the sounds of your scuffling. He boosted himself up on the mattress and watched you for a moment. You'd never seen him so unfocused. It was beautiful in a way, his eyes lidded and tired, hazy with the remnants of a dream.
As quickly as you could without being rude, you explained what you were doing. To your pleasure, he didn't put up a fight. He helped you gather what you needed so you could go freshen up before coming back.
Before you left though, he brought you into a lingering kiss. He held your jaw tenderly and pulled away without any urgency, looking in your eyes while stroking your lip.
"I'll see you when you get back," he murmured.
And that was the beginning of many transgressions that shattered the illusion of 'just this once.'
You rushed home and hopped in the shower. The hot water washed away the rest of your drowsiness. The rising fog of steam enveloped you in warmth, bringing flashes of him back to your mind. How soft his dark locks had felt feathering against your neck. How tight his hands had gripped yours as he thrust into you. How sweet he'd sounded moaning in your ear.
Sighing, you leaned against the cool tile wall. You had to forget all that. It'd been nice, but it had to remain contained. Your work came first, and you would never hurt Light with the knowledge of any of that. It had happened and you didn't regret it. But it was over now.
At least that was what you told yourself.
On that day when you returned to the hotel in a new outfit, everything went as normal. There were no sly remarks from L. No tantalizing looks or teasing touches meant to operate under Light's nose. The both of you acted normal, went about your jobs and performed your duties as you're supposed to.
You weren't really sure what happened, but somewhere between then and now, your intentions to cut it off got muddled and faded away.
A few nights later, you had to stay late to review some aspects of the case with L. It started off professional but took no time to devolve. His fingers that had been so careful flipping through paperwork, eventually ended up beneath your skirt, toying with your clit as he had you continue to read off lines from the files before you.
After that, your entire relationship took on that tone. Your time together became filled with holding hands under the table, stolen kisses before others entered the room, and hushed moans as if one decibel too loud would result in you being found out.
But despite how good it all felt, you weren't heartless.
Every time you were alone with Light, the guilt crushed you. You began to act more like him, withdrawn and inattentive. If he noticed, he didn't complain, but that didn't alleviate your shame any.
You knew you had to end it with him. That was the only right way to go about this now.
And you planned to, you honestly did. You set a deadline in your head for when you would do it by. You stood in front of your mirror for nearly an hour, practicing what you were going to say. You imagined his reactions and tried to brace yourself in advance. 
Every last detail was penciled into place. You even told L about it beforehand. As if it were another task for your job, he offered support. His reaction and the way he went about giving you subtle comfort helped you feel like this was the right decision.
In a way, you still loved Light. You probably always would hold a sliver of affection for him. The forever fondness that comes with being your first love. But you were becoming increasingly certain that you loved L too.
The day you planned to cut Light loose, you woke up extra early. The lining of your stomach felt as though it was webbed with live wires. Anxiety coursed through you with every beat of your heart. You got ready for the day like you always did and then went about your routine as normal. You'd meet up with him at the hotel, and then you could do it afterwards when the two of you were alone.
But that day that you had so meticulously planned didn't end with the two of you in some secluded alcove in the lobby. You didn't get to explain anything. He didn't get to yell at you for betraying him or tell you to never speak to him again. None of that happened because instead, that day he came into the room, he didn't leave with you. He didn't go home afterwards.
He offered himself up for confinement. He ended the day in a cell before you ever got to tell him anything.
You sat near L with your head resting on your hands, glaring at the monitor with the image of Light on it. He was looking back at the camera. Even though there was no way for him to have known your plan, you felt like his coppery eyes gleamed with mockery.
L watched your expression, taking in your dire look. Only the two of you occupied the room right now. Everyone else had gone home for the night. He reached across the desk to take your hand. His thumb swiped over your knuckles tenderly.
You glanced at him in return. "Do you really think he could be Kira?" you asked weakly.
The answer you wanted wasn't so much to do with the exact question you asked. No matter how L explained it or whatever evidence he laid out, you could never bring yourself to fully commit to the idea that your boyfriend was this prolific serial killer. Instead, all you really needed in this moment was some reassurance that this stint in confinement wasn't for no reason.
He met your eyes, pausing before he spoke to consider his words.
"Yes. There's a chance he could be, one I'm partial to believe," he said, "But even if he isn't, that will show in time."
You nodded, pouting without realizing it and turning back to the screen. He was looking ahead now, not staring into your soul through the computer screen. You still felt stuck though.
You couldn't launch into a relationship with L now because Light was gone. The others were already pretty up in arms about Light and Mr. Yagami being held. It was doubtful that seeing you and L use the time as an opportunity for your own benefit would lessen those feelings any.
But on the other hand, you figured it would be cruel and unusual to dump Light through the speaker that blasted into his cell.
You sighed and shook your head, casting your vision over to the screen that featured Misa Amane. Your eyes briefly scanned her features. She was pretty; though, it was hard to tell with the large shield they had her face covered in.
"Do you think she's the second Kira?" you asked with disinterest.
He nodded, much more invested in the stakes of these two pieces of the puzzle than you were at the moment.
"Yes. It's just a matter of getting her to admit it," he said.
You nodded again, inclined to agree with him on that. You didn't know Misa all that well, having only crossed paths with her once or twice. From what you could tell, she had a huge crush on your boyfriend. He didn't seem to reciprocate it necessarily, but he did act strange on the few occasions she came up in conversation.
At certain points, you wondered if he was cheating on you with her, but you figured that was your mind projecting.
"We'll figure it out, darling," L said from beside you, drawing you back to reality with his soft tone, "We just have to be patient."
You turned your head to look at him. Some of the tension in your neck and back eased up as you gazed into his eyes. The sight of him sitting there, scrunched up like usual, softened your pessimistic outlook ever so slightly. He made you believe that you could endure all of this simply because he was worth it.
Leaning over the armrest of your office chair, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. The images of Light and Misa glowed behind your heads as he furthered it, rolling your seat in his direction.
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L had been right about one thing. The past couple months required intense patience.
Light's confinement stretched longer than you would have imagined. You predicted a month at most, and even then, you believed that was kind of a stretch. It shouldn't take that long to determine if he was Kira.
But the one month marker passed and it seemed there was still no end in sight.
You and L continued your affair, still in secret. It was odd having to hide when the main person you were shielding from your feelings sat in a cell under your surveillance twenty four hours a day.
Seeing him like that got to you some days. When he started begging and pleading to be set free, it killed you inside. You could barely stand to look at L when it happened. It felt like you were watching the version of Light you'd fallen in love with come back only to be put in agony. Your chest would ache as you watched the video feed, your lip between your teeth and your eyes brimming with a sheen of salty tears.
L understood as best he could. He had known when this all started that things with you wouldn't be so cut and dry. It still gnawed at him a bit to see you torn up, but he gave you space when you needed it and held you when you didn't.
Just as you were beginning to lose hope that this would ever end, the day came that L informed you he would be releasing Light.
A strange mixture of relief and dread flooded your mind. You hadn't gone this long without speaking to Light since the two of you met back when you were both missing your front teeth and taking notes in crayon. You'd be happy to see him free of course, and it was one step closer to untangling yourself from this twisted web you'd created. But the other part of you filled with uneasiness stemming from your guilt. That combined with the expectation that he wouldn't care one way or the other about being reunited with you.
But when the two of you met again in the new hotel, your predictions couldn't have been more wrong.
You reluctantly glanced up at him when you heard him enter the room. But it was when your eyes met that something felt different. Your racing thoughts came screeching to a halt, a head on collision of guilt and nostalgia.
He strode across the room, lacking the normal weight he seemed to constantly carry on his shoulders these days. You rose to your feet on impulse. His arms reached out, and you felt them wrapping around your body. He pulled you to his chest, holding you there as his nose brushed the crown of your head. He said your name against your scalp with more softness than you'd heard from him in months.
You returned the embrace. Your hands splayed across his back, feeling the lean muscles beneath his shirt. Before you knew what was happening, your eyes felt misty.
"I missed you," you choked out as a whisper, "I've missed you so much."
You'd been missing him longer than fifty days. The version of Light in your arms was the one you loved since you were old enough to really understand the concept. This was the one you thought you'd lost forever because of this investigation.
"I missed you too," he said in return. Even his voice sounded like it used to. He didn't speak with inherent disdain for your very being. The words came out with a soft lilt meant for a lover.
"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't do more to help you," you whimpered. The apology was meant for more than the crime you confessed to.
"It's alright. There was nothing you could do," he said, his hand rubbing the expanse between your shoulder blades.
You ran your fingers up his neck and threaded them in his sandy locks. Pulling back a few inches, you kissed his cheek a couple times. You felt the skin flush red with embarrassment, which brought a smile to your lips. He didn't scowl or push you off. He got flustered.
"I missed you a lot. Don't leave me like that again," you whispered, pulling him back in for one more tight hug.
Your heart ached with the knowledge that you had planned to break up with him soon. You didn't think you could go through with it anymore. Not when he was himself again. Your Light.
The two of you pulled away from each other, and then your eyes landed on L sitting on the couch. Either he was much more understanding than you ever thought possible for a human being, or he had a phenomenal poker face. He looked completely unaffected, faring much better than you would be if the roles were reversed.
In contrast to his unbothered appearance, your stomach turned. You felt more guilt building in the pit of your belly, each brick being laid there reminding you of the fact that you were a horrible person. It was the only truth you would accept about this situation. You were a horrible person whose selfishness had created this mess. Truly, the solution you probably needed was swearing off men. You should devote yourself solely to finding Kira because you didn't deserve anyone. Certainly not the two people in this room with you.
The two of them began to speak, but you could barely hear the words coming out. Each of them sat on one end of the orangey, vintage couch while you took your seat in the chair on the opposite side of the pale rug beneath you. All your mind could focus on were the questions swirling within. How could you have done this? How could you have been so self-centered and stupid?
Neither of them deserved this. They didn't deserve to be caught in the carnage of your emotional state. You should've broken up with Light when you fell for L, plain and simple. That would have been the cleanest exit strategy possible here. Now there was no clean option left. Anything you did was going to leave animosity and tension in its wake.
You didn't zone back into the conversation until the words that had been popping out every so often started to piece together. The arrangement they were planning began becoming clear to you.
"You're going to handcuff yourselves together?" you asked with disbelief.
They both took a break from conversing with each other to look at you. L nodded while Light verbalized an explanation.
"If this gets us closer to catching Kira, it will be worth it."
"But come on, do you really think this is necessary? Wasn't almost two months in confinement enough to prove your innocence? All this will do is drive each of you crazy," you argued. The part you left unsaid was that it would drive you crazy as well.
"I believe it's necessary," L told you, "I also believe it will increase our efficiency."
He stared into your eyes, trying to convince you without words. If he was anyone else, you would believe this was intentional. A strike to get back at you for your loving reunion with Light. But you didn't think L would do that. He'd never taint the integrity of his case with personal feelings, and he'd never hurt you like that. He'd never hurt you like you hurt him.
Before you know it, a long, silver chain with two shiny cuffs attached had been pulled out. Each of your lovers got one locked around his wrist. You glanced between them, your eyes following the links that connected them.
You had a bad feeling this would require even more patience than the last couple months did.
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Though it wasn't his intention, L couldn't help but feel that this handcuff idea had turned into a punishment for him. His consequence for sleeping with a girl in a relationship, and then continuing the affair and allowing himself to grow attached.
When he came up with the plan, he thought he could handle it. He had put up with watching you and Light together for months when he believed his feelings were unrequited. But now that he had his own taste of you, it felt nearly unbearable.
Living in the task force building with the two of you and watching you lavish all your affection on Light felt like torture. Every stroke of the other man's soft hair from your loving fingers felt like a blade slicing his skin. Each kiss to his pale temple was a bullet piercing his own flesh. Every time he had to hear you speak to Light in a sappy tone of voice or pay him a compliment, he'd rather rip his own ear drums out.
It was brutal. He didn't even get the reprieve of your nights alone together anymore. Your contact with him had been reduced to emotional looks, double-edged words, or soft touches on the rare occasions that Light fell asleep first.
Those nights were few and far in between. The last time it had happened had been weeks ago. All of three of you had been watching a movie, some horror flick none of you had seen. You sat on the couch together, like this was a hang out and not a date. On the right side, Light leaned back into the cushions. L took up the left side while you were in the middle between them.
Light had you tucked to his side as the movie played in front of you three. It was a possessive gesture and that was obvious to L. The movie wasn't scary and you weren't cold. The other man wanted his relationship with you on display. If L was going to sit in on your dates, at least he would know he was the third wheel.
He tried to act casual about it, tried keeping his eyes solely on the screen showing the carved up victims of the film's killer. But he couldn't stop himself from noticing how you played with Light's fingers. You shuffled them between your own, bending his digits and stroking the smooth skin. You fidgeted with them thoughtlessly like it was the most natural thing in the world. And he realized for both of you, it probably was. He'd never felt so out of place.
The urge to get away from it coursed through him with such intensity that he considered popping his thumb out of place just to slip out of the cuffs and get some space. The air in here felt suffocating, weighing down heavier on him every second. He ran his hand through his sleek hair. This night couldn't be over soon enough.
It was about two-thirds of the way through the movie that he felt your hand on his instead. You inched across the cushions and looped your fingers over his. He turned to look at you and saw Light's head slumped over onto your shoulder.
Unease swirled in your eyes. You seemed almost apologetic, and that was confirmed when you spoke, keeping your voice quiet enough not to wake your sleeping boyfriend.
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
He blinked at you. "For what?"
A little sigh puffed from between your lips. "For this," you said, "I'm sorry for dragging you into this and stringing you along and not just breaking things off one way or the other."
"I was hardly unwilling," he responded. His hand flipped over and returned the hold you had on him.
His words made you smile a little, but sorrow still riddled your features. "You know what I mean. I just... I don't wanna make you feel like I'm leading you on. I don't regret being with you. I still care about you. A lot," you said. The L word stayed on the tip of your tongue. You were too mixed up to expel it.
He shook his head. "Don't apologize," he commanded gently, "If I expected something easy, I wouldn't have let this go as far as it did. I'm just as much to blame."
"But still," you replied, unconvinced, "I know I should just end things or leave you alone. It's just that he finally seems to like me again, and I don't know. It's hard to throw that away."
Sadness pervaded your words, and he hated it. It made sense. The tangled knots between the three of you didn't leave much room to feel happy.
"If Light is what you need right now, then that's ok. You don't need to feel an obligation to me-"
"I don't!" you interjected, almost forgetting to keep your volume down, "I don't. It's not like that. I love Light, but you're important to me too. I don't feel like I owe you anything. I feel attached to you because you're special. You mean so much to me. You're not like anyone I've ever known."
You were killing him, truly. He didn't want to let you go, but he figured giving you a way out would be easier. You just wouldn't take it. He didn't really know what to say. It wasn't like he could just join you and Light... the other man would never go for that.
"I love you too," he whispered, saying the words you wanted to without mincing them, "But feeling so torn isn't good for you. And it's not fair to Light."
Internally, your heart soared from the soft declaration. It would've been one of the most romantic moments of your life if it wasn't for the fact that you had made it so messy. But you had, so all you could do was nod because you knew he was right.
"Figure out what exactly you want, what will make you happy, and what will be best for you," he finished.
He then leaned in and gave you the smallest, softest kiss you'd ever received. Despite its fleeting nature, it struck you like a truck crashing into your body. It was the first time you'd kissed him in weeks, a reminder of how good he felt.
You stared into his eyes once the two of you had separated, running the tip of your tongue over your upper lip. Your heart fluttered in your chest for him. Your breaths came in and out with a little more effort.
Then, interrupting the exchange between you two, Light snuck his other arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his body like you were a beloved stuffed animal. The sudden reminder of his presence nearly caused you to jump out of your skin.
You ripped your eyes away from L and settled back in next to your boyfriend. Cuddling him closer, one of your hands ran through his hair and ensured he didn't wake himself up by moving.
And just like that the moment was over. Things went back to how they had been every other second the three of you spent in this arrangement. But L had gotten his fill and it was enough to keep him going for a while more.
Over the next couple days, he watched the two of you more closely. Part of him did it for selfish reasons. He wanted to find more time he could have you to himself. More moments he could steal from Light. But there was another part of him that was purely curious. It was the part of him always looking for a logical solution.
Through his observations, it became increasingly obvious to him that Light wasn't happy about this handcuffing arrangement in regards to his time with you either. He just seemed able to tolerate it much better than L could. Probably because he was the one with the official claim on you. He didn't have to hide his feelings.
Light could openly sit with his arm around your shoulders or your ass parked on his lap. He was the one that could stroke your head or kiss your cheek. He got to call you 'sweetheart' and be the recipient of your bright smiles.
At first he didn't take advantage of any of those things too often, but lately, the detective had noticed an uptick in all of those behaviors. The others had caught onto it too and found his rejuvenated affection for you slightly odd, but they chalked it up to almost two months apart. Two months without any form of physical contact would drive anyone to feel needy. And L agreed with that for the most part, though like with everything else, he had some theories of his own.
He also believed that Light's increase in attentiveness towards you stemmed from jealousy beginning to fester inside him. Maybe jealousy wasn't exactly the right word, but his actions toward you weren't purely romantic. They felt like warnings sometimes, reminders that you belonged to him.
He didn't think you had told your boyfriend about your affair. It was doubtful that he would've just let that slide and carried on with things as if they were totally fine. And he didn't think he was catching on either. As much as it pained him, you had been so inconspicuous. If he was anyone but himself, he didn't think he would paint you as attracted to anyone other than Light.
There was only one real instance he could identify that would qualify as Light catching scent of the truth.
The three of you had been working on the case in the evening, sitting side by side at the table in the main room of HQ. Your bodies lined up in their normal arrangement, Light on one side, you in the middle, and L on the other.
Over the crown of your boyfriend's brown hair, sat the band on a pair of headphones. The audio of last week's news coverage droned in his ears. Meanwhile you worked on taking notes on dates of killings and potential patterns and connections between them. L was scribbling some points down about names of victims.
It had been small, and he'd barely noticed it. But when his eyes drifted to the left side of his page, he caught a little marking on the right edge of yours.
A small pair of dots with a curved line beneath stared up at him. The little smiley face gave him the look you couldn't, spoke the words he didn't hear from you anymore.
He ended up drawing his own tiny ":)" on his paper. It rested right next to yours, only separated by the thin space between the two sheets.
It only took you a minute or so to notice. He acted like he was focused on his work, but he subtly watched in his peripheral for the smile that spread across your lips.
Continuing the game, you brought your pen back to the sight of your doodle and drew a little tongue sticking out of the mouth. He laughed under his breath. Thoughts of adding onto his filled his brain, but before he could, the third person in the room interjected.
"Are you guys passing notes now?" Light asked before nudging the headphones off one of his ears, both visibly and audibly unamused.
Your head whipped to face him. "Sorry. I just got a little distracted," you explained. You leaned in and placated him with a kiss to his cheek. Then your attention returned to the task in front of you.
L continued to watch as the interaction played out. Before he could refocus his own intentions, he caught Light giving him a look. It was only for a few seconds, but the suspicion shot across the back of your shoulders directly into L's skull.
But as far as he knew, that had been it. Neither of you had talked about it in front of him, so unless you discussed it while he slept, Light must have just let it go.
So the only other option left that could explain this shift in his level of affection was natural possessiveness. Whether he was conscious of it or not, Light had to share you with someone else 24/7 now. The two of you were never alone anymore. Even if L stayed quiet, forgetting his presence entirely was not an easy task with the way he stared. Private conversations and truly intimate moments were a thing of the past in your shared life. He supposed that would grate on anyone.
He still wasn't decided on that line of reasoning though, so he filed it away with the rest of the ways Light had changed during his confinement. He could figure out the source later. For now, he just needed to focus on you.
Quite honestly, he couldn't believe he had let any of this happen. He found himself wishing that he stopped on that first night. That part of his mind yearned for some way to go back in time and tell you the kiss was unprofessional and leave the tension to fizzle out. Everything would be so much easier in the universe where that actually happened.
But then again, in that universe, that version of himself would never get to experience you, and he didn't envy that in the slightest. Even with all the drama and secrets and heartache, he didn't regret you at all. It was the mess he hated, not the person at the center of it. No matter how hopeless things between the two of you seemed, he found himself unable to let go. You could trample his heart as much as you wanted and drag it through countless fields of broken glass, but at the end of the day, he'd still be there waiting for you to pick him from the carnage.
He knew it was pathetic. Childish even, believing in some sort of modern fairytale with you. But being aware of those things didn't curtail his feelings any.
If anything, it made them worse. Not having you to himself like he did for the time Light was gone created a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. Acidic resentment ready to spew at any moment toward the man toting you around as his possession.
The worst it felt was when you two did try to have a private moment while he slept.
Normally, you spent the nights in your own room in the task force building, but on occasion, you'd fall asleep before you could retire to your own space. In those cases, you'd sleep pressed to Light's side on one of the two beds in his and L's shared bedroom.
That night when the jealousy burned so hot inside him it felt like it would bubble over, it was because he woke up to the sound of the chain rustling. It dangled across the space between the two twin mattresses, the links clanking against each other and the floor. The sounds weren't erratic but just noisy enough to pull him from the comforts of unconsciousness.
His mind stayed hazy at first, ready to be lured back under. But then he heard a soft moan. Light's voice tenderly bursting into the otherwise quiet space. Then came you shushing him.
"I'm only gonna keep going if you stay quiet," you whispered.
That brought L to his senses a little more. He had been facing away from the two of you, so he couldn't see what was going on exactly. He blinked away his sleepiness and tried to focus on deducing that though. 
From there, he could hear the rhythmic strokes of your hand. The wet sound of you spitting onto your palm. Light's grunts as he presumably bit his lip and kept his face against your neck.
"You're so good at that," he choked out while gritting his teeth.
A quiet giggle trickled from your lips, and a part of L died inside. It felt kind of stupid. He knew you and Light were intimate. But knowing and bearing witness were two separate things.
"You still have to be quiet. If you wake him up, I'm never doing this for you again. If you get hard in the middle of the night, you'll have to rely on your own hand," you teased before connecting your lips with his.
L lied in bed as the rest of that played out. The delicate smooches and creaks of the bed. Light's strained whines and labored breaths.
Even after you'd finished him off and the two of you fell asleep again, he rested on the bed, moving as much as a stone. His eyes stared at the wall while his limbs felt like cement. Thoughts tangled up in his mind. The feelings of betrayal and envy and disgust and longing all muddled together.
Humiliating as it was, none of them killed his need for you. If you came to him tomorrow and informed him you and Light had split, he'd be as ready to embrace you as he was a few hours ago.
The desperate yearning for you was a disease, but as of now, it wasn't terminal. He could still function, could still even coexist with the subject of his hatred. That's what he was doing right now as the three of you played Mario Kart on the Wii hooked up to the tv in their shared room.
You and Light were curled up in the corner of the couch again while L sat a few feet away on the floor with his back against the structure. His shoulders tilted side to side as he maneuvered the controller in his hands.
Three of the small split screens showed your chosen characters weaving through Coconut Mall. You had a shitty race so far, lagging behind in fifth place. Light was up ahead in first with Toad while L trailed close behind in third as Dry Bones.
You already resigned to losing given that it was the third lap and you didn't have any good power ups. After winning the last cup, that was fine with you. One of them could have this one. 
The two men on either side of you didn't share your nonchalance. Both were dead silent, completely focused on the tv screen. They zipped their cars through the virtual parking lot, dodging the mini obstacles in the way. Glancing over at his corner of the screen, you could see Light basically had it in the bag. But then L jammed his thumb down on one of the wiimote buttons.
A blue shell flew out of the little skeleton turtle's hand and zipped up ahead to Toad. It slammed down with all the pettiness L felt inside, and Dry Bones passed by, smug with success.
"Damn!" Light huffed, dropping the controller in his lap.
He glared at the screen as you finished up the race. You came in fourth place rather than fifth. The feeling of slight achievement wasn't long lived though. You could tell out of the corner of your eye that your boyfriend had just barely resisted the urge to fling the plastic remote towards the wall.
L turned his head to look up at the both of you. His gossamer lashes kissed his cheeks as he blinked a few times. You looked at him awkwardly, hoping he could say something to cut through the tension.
"You know, Light. If you used the mushroom in your inventory, you could've avoided the blue shell. There's a trick you can do with the timing, but also, you would've been over the finish line if you sped up so it wouldn't have mattered if it hit you anyw-"
Light's head snapped in his direction, his stare even more agitated than before. Your eyes flitted between them like a scolded puppy even though you weren't on the receiving end of the icy look. If there was one thing about Light you knew, it was that he hated being shown up. And even more, he loathed being corrected afterwards.
"What happened to you pretending like you're not even here?" he said with a tight jaw, "This is supposed to be time for me and my girlfriend. And last I checked, that isn't you."
L shrugged in response, not reciprocating the annoyance. "It was your girlfriend who asked me to play. Maybe you should have checked with her about that," he said coolly.
You cringed a little, hearing the subtle assertion in his voice. He said your girlfriend, but you could sense the challenge. The unspoken dare to Light to make that more apparent so he could prove otherwise. You really really didn't want that to happen though, so you interrupt the exchange with forced laughter.
"Guys, chill out. It's just Mario Kart. No need to get all upset," you said.
L took your advice and turned his eyes back towards the television. Coconut Mall was only the second track in the cup after all. There were two more to go.
You looked up at Light who was relaxing now too and sinking back into the plush cushions of the couch. He still hadn't picked up the blue wiimote in his lap, and you weren't confident he was going to in the next few seconds.
As a preemptive strike, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. "You don't have to play anymore if you don't want to, baby," you murmured.
Baby.
The word stabbed at L. He peered back at your shared corner of the couch.
"Don't be a sore loser, Light. You know you don't have to be good at everything," he taunted.
In an instant, your boyfriend's face morphed into his previous harsh expression. You grabbed the controller from his lap, preventing him from lobbing it at L before the thought to do so could form in his mind.
"I actually have a lot of other games. We could all just play something else. There's Wii Sports, Just Dance. I even have this one where you're like a detective, so maybe you guys would like that..." you chattered.
"Can we just watch a movie instead? Something that involves less input from him," Light responded with a pointed gaze in L's direction.
"Sure!" you chirped, all too eager for another distraction.
You hopped up from the sofa, nearly tripping over the chain that connected their wrists. Your feet got their balance though and narrowly avoided an embarrassing fall. Once stable, you headed over to the little binder of disks you'd brought to HQ when you all moved in here and rifled through it to find something that could please both men.
L chewed the inside of his cheek. He had nothing to really be irritated about in this moment, but this whole situation wore on him. As a result, he felt like being a little pushy.
"Your girlfriend was excited to play that game, wasn't she?" L asked, still keeping the facade of casualness, "We really have to stop because you're not winning?"
The way Light gritted his teeth was nearly audible. "She's the one who suggested we do something else," he defended, "If she still wanted to play, she would tell me. She doesn't need you speaking on her behalf."
"Yeah, really. It's no big deal. I can play later," you said, trying your best to smooth things out.
L's pupils lingered on you, assessing and judging. He knew you were trying to defuse the situation above all else. He understood the motivation, but that didn't mean he liked it. Why couldn't you let the fuse burn down to the blow up? The explosion that could set everything straight. Let it clear this mess and leave nothing but rubble that the two of you could rise from to be together.
As of now though, that was nothing more than a wild pipe dream. He let go of it. It was probably best for the case anyway.
You popped a DVD into the player before standing and prancing back to the sofa. Taking your seat, you slotted yourself right under Light's arm, pressed against his side. L scooted up onto the couch too but maintained the distance of a single cushion. It was weird sharing the space with the two of you, yet he figured it was better than staying on the floor and feeling like a kid being babysat by a negligent couple.
Only a few moments passed before the menu screen appeared. The cheesy looped music sounded for a couple seconds before you tapped the button to play your selection. It was some 90s movie. One that despite its star-studded cast, was still filled to the brim with atrocious acting.
All three of you were silent through the beginning even though none of you held much interest in the film. The plot panned out predictably; the characters fighting over petty qualms and falling in love at the drop of the hat while the end of the world decorated the background of their lives.
L let out a quiet sigh, a section of his dark tresses swaying with the force of his breath. The heel of his palm squished against his cheek while boredom swirled in his eyes and spread across his other features.
Meanwhile on your side of the couch, you remained relieved you'd avoided imminent catastrophe. Your head leaned against Light's shoulder while his fingers twirled absent-mindedly on your bicep. About forty-five minutes into the film, he turned and kissed your forehead.
You peeked up at him. The act would've been unusual for the Light you'd become accustomed to months ago, but for this updated version, it was fairly in line. You gave him a tiny smile and snuggled further into his side. Relaxation permeated the both of you as you sat there and watched the stupid movie in front of you. To you, it was the end of conflict. This acted as a time killer to fill the rest of the night before you could go to sleep.
But your boyfriend seemed to view the situation through a different lens.
His fingers continued to massage your upper arm in light ministrations. They were barely noticeable. So casual they almost felt inherent.
But that was only until they dragged upward to your neck and collar. The smooth pads of his fingertips trailed over the little bump of your clavicle. They dusted over you with the most gentle care you'd ever seen from the man holding you close. His digits traced with intention, with subtle desire. They delved downward and teased the top of your breasts, bringing heat creeping up from the pit of your belly into your cheeks.
Carefully, you readjusted your position, brushing him off in the most inadvertent way possible. In contrast to the way he pulled away from your hand all those months ago, this could truly appear to be accidental. It didn't matter though because it didn't deter him any.
His head ducked in, and he kissed the skin beneath your earlobe. He pulled you a little closer to his body, allowing you to feel the definition of his form. An involuntary shudder swept over you. You tried to fight it, but the provocative touches had an effect whether you wanted them to or not.
He moved his lips down, licking and nipping from your earlobe onto your throat. That was when you almost lost it, nearly letting a moan escape you. It would have been soft and quiet, but at any volume, it wasn't a sound you wanted getting out right now.
Your eyes fluttered. All his touches felt so good. Light knew your body. Even though he was a dick for most of the beginning of your relationship, he was still observant. He knew all the spots that made you melt. He knew the area below your pulse point caused you to squirm and whimper while grazing the divot in your hips made them buck as a chill overtook you.
He kept his kisses quiet. Not quiet enough for someone attempting to hide them, but to the point that he wasn't slobbering all over your neck.
Either way, L noticed what the two of you were up to. He felt jealousy taking root inside of him. Ugly, brutal, all-consuming envy. He hated it, didn't want it at all, but it still made itself known.
He kept his eyes locked on the screen. He could feel you two shifting around in your corner. He could hear your breath hitch like it did for him. He could see in his peripheral how Light held you, in the way he wished he could.
"Light, quit it," you whispered.
You really tried to keep this between you and him, but he kept going. One set of his fingers swept down over your curves and gripped the dip in your waist. They squeezed the soft flesh, keeping you close.
"Shhh," he hushed you before nipping at the sensitive skin of your throat, "Relax, baby. This is supposed to be a date, yeah?"
Suppressing a whimper in your throat, you nodded weakly. You decide to just let him mess around a little more. Maybe he could work out his frustration and then mellow out.
At first, you thought that worked. He eased his efforts, laying some tender pecks on your neck. His kisses hit your skin with alluring care. You felt lulled into a sense of security. Your body calmed itself and cooled the fires of arousal beginning to burn. But then his lips parted and his tongue snuck out, licking a stripe up your neck before his mouth engulfed the wet area.
Simultaneously, his hand coasted back up and landed on your breast. This time the touch wasn't teasing. He grabbed the mound of flesh with intention. He kneaded it with unmistakable desire. Heat blossomed between your legs like it would when the two of you were alone. But instead of sinking into that feeling and spreading your thighs for him, you squeaked and tried to sit up.
"Stop," you whined. You were still trying to keep quiet, but you had to raise your volume somewhat to be forceful.
You grabbed his hand on your chest and pushed it back down onto your stomach. Though all that did was give him the leverage to pull you onto his lap entirely. The chain connecting him to L rattled as your body scraped across it.
Finally, L turned his head and looked at the two of you straight on. He observed the way Light held you to his chest and continued ravishing your throat. His eyes scanned over the way you squirmed and tried shutting him down without making a scene. The thing that stood out the most though was Light's eyes staring back at him. They gleamed with self-satisfaction, smugness to a level that dared L to try something. The glow of the tv hit his copper irises in a way that made them look closer to a deep shade of red.
L swallowed hard, taking a few more moments to watch. He could see from your expression you were embarrassed but not entirely displeased with the affection. It felt like a swarm of insects tearing him apart from the inside, the knowledge you could still enjoy touches that came from someone else. He didn't think he had that ability anymore.
"She told you to stop," he cut in, bitterness dripping from each word.
Pulling his mouth away from your neck for a few moments, your boyfriend's attention zeroed in entirely on the other man in the room.
"And was she talking to you when she said it?" he asked pointedly.
A pause filled the gap in conversation after those words. Both men stared one another down, contemplating the next move in the verbal chess match. Light's arms remained firm around you. He didn't let you scoot back to the neutral position between the both of them.
"I thought you said we could do whatever we wanted in front of you. That we shouldn't pay you any mind. Act 'like you're not even here,'" Light continued.
"Maybe it's better that I am here if you don't know what the word 'stop' means," he fired back.
You finally found the courage to cut in after watching the two of them go back and forth.
"It's fine, Ryuzaki. We were just messing around. I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable," you said, diplomatic as ever.
"It's not fine," he challenged you. For the first time ever, you saw L lose his cool. His eyes blazed with ire for both you and Light. He stood from the couch, maintaining his glare. "You never stand up to him and then wonder why he never changes!"
Your eyes widened at the outburst, but your expression quickly melted into that of an ashamed child. On the other hand, your boyfriend lost his sense of superiority and now just looked confused.
"What is he talking about?" he asked.
"I- It's not-" you started to stammer, but you're unsure of who to even address, let alone what to say.
L could see you were struggling. A small part of him felt some guilt for lashing out, but the whole of him knew he needed to. This game between the three of you had grown tiresome. All he did to help was stay quiet and give you the room to collect your thoughts.
Light didn't offer that courtesy though and spoke again. "What is he talking about? You wonder why I never change?" he echoed.
"It's not like that," you defended with urgency, "I don't wish you would change."
Disgust crept into L's eyes. Before, he'd always found your timidity endearing. It was like an extension of your intelligence. Modesty that you projected because you wrongfully believed you didn't fit in with everyone else.
Though this exposed the truth of that characteristic. It wasn't inherently precious or just some part of you that came from the desire not to hurt others.
Right now, it was cowardice.
"Maybe not anymore. His confinement must have changed you too," L said.
His words hollowed out your insides, leaving the cavern of your chest bare, spare the remaining shards of your heart. The room around you felt like a sinking ship. Everything you knew would soon be lost underwater.
"I haven't changed," you said, your initial defensiveness fizzling out, "You don't understand."
"My confinement?" Light repeated, ignoring your words to the other man, "Did something happen between you two while I was locked up?"
It was hard to keep up when accusations were flying at you from both sides.
"No! Just let me explain," you denied, "When you were gone, me and Ryuzaki got kind of close because there's no one else around here to really talk to, you know?"
"Talk," L choked out, "That's all we did, huh? Talk?"
"I didn't mean- I just... It's not-" you tried to continue. You could feel your throat closing up as your eyes began stinging with tears.
There was no way you were going to let yourself cry. Not when you knew you were so undisputedly in the wrong. It would probably just make this situation worse. The pain you caused wasn't hypothetical anymore, but there were still salvageable pieces of the shattered whole.
You took a deep breath before scooting off of Light's lap. His arms had long gone limp around your waist. Sitting between them on the sofa, you stared down at your thighs for a few moments. When you finally felt some semblance of courage, you brought your head back up.
Both of them were watching you in anticipation. L still had broken hearts gleaming in his eyes while angry confusion dominated Light's features.
"While you were in confinement, Ryuzaki and I..." you started softly. Even though trailing off left your crimes unspoken, you knew the implication was obvious to Light. You forced yourself to continue anyways, needing to take responsibility. "It started a little before that actually. We got close. And we did a lot more than talk."
You sucked in a shaky breath, conjuring the will to expel the next set of words.
"I was unfaithful. And I'm so sorry."
Your head hung in shame. The room fell silent, spare for the quiet dialogue coming from the characters on the television.
"You... you cheated?" Light finally sputtered, "You cheated on me?"
Turning your head, you looked at him before nodding. "I'm so sorry, Light. I know it sounds like a cliche, but I never meant to hurt either of you."
The words came out like a broken record as your eyes watered to the point of overflow. With stiff fingers, you brushed away the stray tear.
"Why?" he asked, his tone settling into anger.
"I felt alone. And you were so distant. And I didn't know how to talk to you. But I didn't even try," you explained. It felt cheap to try and provide an excuse.
"How the hell am I distant? We're with each other every single day!" he snapped.
"Yeah, but before... you were different before. You were so mean all the time!" you responded.
He didn't have anything to say back to that because part of him knew it was true. And as shitty as it felt trying to justify yourself, he still had never offered up a reason as to why that was. He left you to wonder what you had done even now that he acted like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you.
"It just started as advice. That was it, I swear. He just offered to help me because he saw how I was feeling. Then it became something more, and I was wrong for letting it while we were still together. But then you went away and I couldn't do anything about it and we just got even closer. And I'm just so sorry," you whispered, "I don't expect you to forgive me."
L shifted back and forth on his feet before lowering himself onto the sofa again. He still said nothing. He just observed, waiting to see what Light would say next.
"Do you still... have feelings for him?" he asked, "Do you still love me?"
"Yeah, I still love you," you said and looked back up at him, "I know I did a shitty job of showing it, but I never wanted to lose you. I... I couldn't just let you go. We've always been each other's."
He diverted his focus when you whispered out your words of endearment for him. "You didn't answer both questions," he muttered.
Sighing, you paused. You mentally tried to decide how to answer. Speaking as if only you and Light were in the room would hurt L, but addressing him rather than your boyfriend probably wouldn't bode well for you either.
"What do you guys want me to say?" you whispered.
"Tell the truth. Be honest. Say what it is you want," L finally joined in.
"Say it instead of just taking it," Light added.
Even though their directions were clear, it still took a few moments to find the words you wanted to use.
"I want both of you," you answered, "I don't want to pick. I don't want to hurt either of you any more than I already have."
The room stayed quiet after your declaration. You could feel the weight of Light's stare, but L simply seemed resigned. Reaching out on both sides of yourself, you took their hands.
You wrapped your fingers around their palms. Your digits could feel the subtle differences in each appendage. Both were smooth and slender, though L's knuckles protruded more than Light's. Luckily, neither one of them made the move to pull away.
"I know it's stupid and childish and selfish, and you can call me all that stuff. Just please don't leave," you begged softly.
The lone tear from before was no longer a stray. More followed its path and trailed down the smooth curves of your cheeks.
After a few moments, you felt L's thumb begin to swipe back and forth over your knuckles. Always the more lenient of the two, he was already caving a little bit to the sight of you weeping.
"I can't leave," Light grumbled and raised his hand, reminding you of the binds that kept him here. 
He wasn't as swayed by your display of emotion. His jaw remained clenched with his eyes set in a harsh glare. You could hear the process of his thoughts piecing together in his head, you just couldn't decipher what exactly they were.
"So what?" he said when he finally spoke again, "I'm not good enough for you anymore. I have to share you with him?"
"No. You are good enough for me. That's not why," you reassured. Squeezing his hand, you continued, "You don't have to share. If you want to dump me, I would understand. I just... I can't just pretend me and Ryuzaki never happened."
Blinking at you, he took in each word and let it float through his mind. He mostly understood your point despite the murderous anger flowing through him in that moment. And on top of that, the small piece of him that knew the smart thing would be to break up with you was dominated by the larger part of his psyche that refused to let L win.
If he broke up with you, there was no doubt in his mind that L would accept you with ease. Why should he get to have that? Why should Light be the one who ended up alone in this situation? You were his first, and you still wanted him. You'd strayed for a moment, but your heart still belonged to him. He was sure that in time he could erase any remnants of your infidelity. He just had to be patient.
"What does Ryuzaki think?" he asked before looking at the other man, "He's been so quiet. Does he think we should have you choose? Does he want you all to himself?"
L returned his stare past you. "I said what I think. I want her to have what she wants," he replied.
"Don't give me that," Light sneered, "This isn't a case. There's nothing you have to put together before coming up with a conclusion. Do you still want her? Do you still want her even if she can't make up her mind and thinks she deserves you and me?"
You cringed at the wording of his questions but decided not to interject. Instead, you waited for L's response.
"Yes. I still want her. Even under those circumstances," he admitted.
The revelation made Light both smug and bitter. Knowing someone else coveted what was his felt good, but realizing that same person had some success obtaining it ate away at him. He wouldn't make that apparent though.
"I just think it would be easier if we worked on solving the case first," you added, "If I pick one way or the other, someone will end up hurt and that would only cut into our chances of catching Kira."
"So what do you suggest we do instead then?" Light asked, "Do we all pretend like everything is normal? That neither of us feel anything for you, and you don't feel for us?"
"No, Light-" you tried to defend, but he kept going.
"Or is it that you really want us to share? You wanna sleep between us at night? Want us both to tell you how proud we are when you do something good? Want both of our attention focused on you?" he mocked.
"No, I just think we should talk about it," you offered. You felt your cheeks starting to burn.
"Talk about what? What plan did you have in mind?" he carried on, grabbing your jaw and making you look into his eyes.
"I don't know..." you acquiesced.
From your other side, L hardened his gaze a bit. "She already apologized and offered to come up with a solution, Light. Don't just try making her feel worse," he warned.
"I'm not. I'm just trying to get some clarity on the situation," he said, "I just want to know what she means."
You didn't have an answer for him because in all honesty, you didn't really know what you meant. This wasn't a daydream. It wasn't realistic to expect both men to just magically forgive your betrayals. This wasn't a fantasy world in which their love for you would overpower all other negatives. But you didn't want to contend with a reality that wasn't that way, so you remained silent.
That didn't deter Light from coming after you some more though.
"Just say what you were thinking," he encouraged, "Is it that you want both of us to call you baby and pretty girl and all those other sweet names I know you like? Or maybe it's less innocent. Do you have a thing for two guys at once that you never told me about?"
The warmth of embarrassment flooded your face in full force. You could barely think with the hot air swirling around inside your skull.
"No, Light-" you asserted. But again, he keeps going.
"No? Maybe you like being watched then? I know you love almost being caught. But do you want someone actually watching you?" he taunted.
"Light, this isn't doing anything to-" L tried to intervene on your behalf. But your boyfriend didn't want to hear it.
"Do you wanna show Ryuzaki how you like to be touched? Or is it that you wanna show me what I'm missing out on now?" he asked.
"That's not why!" you said and yanked your hand away.
He laughed in response. He had no problem continuing to stare you down either.
"Maybe not entirely, but I know you. I know there's a small part of you that gets off on being caught." he accused.
And that was true. Having known you for so long, he knew what revved your engine. You'd told him all your dirty little secrets and darkest desires. Now that he was openly using them against you, you weren't sure how to refute him.
"Yeah, but this is more..." you said.
"I know it is, but you don't want it to be more right now, do you? That was your point. That we should save deeper discussion until after the case."
You nodded, hoping he would maybe ease up now.
But his grin only grew more severe. He mimicked your nod.
"Alright. I think I could come around to accept that idea," he told you, "I just need some more convincing. Maybe you and Ryuzaki could persuade me."
You eyed him nervously, wondering what exactly it was he planned on as methods of temptation. Turning your head, you found that L was just as lost as you.
"How?" you asked.
"Show me. Show me what I missed out on when I was off proving my innocence. Show me what you can't just throw away. Show me what was worth risking everything for," he commanded.
Your lips parted as the thunder of your heart pounding boomed through your ears. His request was pretty obvious, but you just couldn't believe it. It didn't sound like anything Light would have ever asked for. But then again, he probably would have marked cheating down as something you'd never do.
You moved your eyes to L in an attempt to gauge his reaction. He seemed just as stunned and uncertain as you though.
"C'mon. Don't act all shy now. I doubt you two had any problems when you were doing it behind my back," Light said.
"Light," you pleaded, your lip jutting out a bit.
"What?" he asked, colder than before.
"Are you sure you want us to... do that?" you checked.
"You're only going to hurt yourself more," L added.
"I don't need you speaking on my wellbeing," he said to the other man before redirecting to you, "I'm sure. I want to see what I'll be getting out of sharing you. So go ahead. I'm sure you've been missing him since I came back."
A pit formed in your stomach. Your vision shifted from one guy to the other. It was true that you'd missed L a lot as of late, but this was not how you'd envisioned your reunion at all. You didn't want to lose either of them though, and if this is how you went about that, then so be it.
"You want me to..."
"Kiss him," he directed.
A spasm overtook your heart, but you suppressed it with a deep breath. You then turned to L. He was right there, seemingly waiting for you to take that step. With one last look at Light, you refocused completely on him.
You scooted a little closer to his side of the couch and started to lean in.
"Are you sure?" he murmured before your arrival.
You only nodded in response before pressing your lips to his.
Your eyes fluttered shut and then so did his. You melted into the exchange with no real issue. You hadn't really kissed L in what felt like forever. Even under the awkward circumstances, you wouldn't let a chance to have him like this slip through your fingers.
He cupped one of your cheeks with his hand, the other slid around your waist. His lips moved in tandem with yours. In no time, your mouths found a perfect rhythm to share. He guided you into his lap now, situating you between his thighs.
Your quiet moan spilled into the air. You ran your hands up his chest, fingers caressing his lean figure through his clothing. His hand on your back squeezed your flesh and pulled you closer.
"She has a spot on her back that makes her go crazy," Light offered from the sidelines.
"I know," L said back before locking you into another kiss.
You glanced over at Light with shyness clouding your eyes. He had leaned back into the corner of the couch and openly watched you make out with L. His legs were spread while his arms draped over the backing and arm rest.
Butterflies erupted in a constant stream in your belly. Being observed by one while being kissed by the other felt like nothing you'd ever experienced before.
If L minded as much as you, he didn't show it. He kept himself focused entirely on kissing you. His tongue traced the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth and dancing with your own. The hand that had been massaging your back moved to grope your hips.
You whimpered for him before leaning into his body more. He took your eagerness for him in stride and cradled you in the perfect position to make out.
For a while, it felt just like before. Like it was just you and him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders and reciprocated his movements like it was the most natural thing in the world.
After a while of kissing, his right set of fingers trailed down your body. They delved beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, finding their place between your thighs. Over your panties, they stroked your cunt. The sudden burst of stimulation made you gasp against his lips.
With another little whine, you parted your legs a few inches for him. His digits took advantage and worked with more skill to stroke your clit and tease your slit.
"Is this how it started?" Light asked, reminding you of his presence again.
Reluctantly, you pulled away from L and turned to look at him. With droopy eyes and puffy lips, you tried to register the question.
"Kinda," you mumbled.
Even though you were talking, L didn't stop petting your pussy. He only seemed more dedicated to the task. He hooked his chin over your shoulder and laid some kisses along your jawline.
More little noises of pleasure seeped out of you, but Light continued with his questions.
"Kind of? Did you just kiss the first time? Or did you let him touch you like this too? Maybe even more?" Light mocked.
"I didn't-" you started to defend, but L nipped at your throat, making you stutter. You whined before continuing, "It was just different."
"I'm sure," Light mocked.
You wanted to argue more, but L tugged the damp cloth of your underwear aside and slotted his fingers against your folds. He swirled them around your little bundle of nerves as his mouth worked on your neck. You arched your back, pressing your ass against his thigh.
"No more lying," he whispered near your ear, "Be honest about how good I make you feel."
Your eyes fluttered at the command while his fingertips continued toying with the most sensitive part of you. They rubbed a little more before sliding down and dipping into your entrance.
"It feels so good," you whimpered, sinking further into his embrace.
"That's right," he purred.
His fingers worked into your dripping hole with ease. He pumped two in and out, stroking your inner walls as they scissored inside you.
From the other end of the sofa, Light watched the outline of L's hand move beneath your pants. He studied the way your head fell back and how your shoulders relaxed. It was like being able to watch your shared intimate moments from another perspective. Anger and betrayal still brewed inside him, but they were becoming less volatile with every little squeak you made.
"I missed feeling this perfect pussy. So soft and wet for me," L whispered. He nosed at your neck for a moment before licking up to your earlobe.
You shuddered in response. "I missed you more," you breathed.
Your hips bucked against his wrist when his fingers curled within and brushed up against a sweet spot. You mewled without any regard for volume. The sensations he brought you were your only concern.
Light bit the inside of his bottom lip. His breathing became a little heavier. He had never been with anyone but you. And you'd never been with anyone but him until L. Seeing someone else explore you like this made him feel something he couldn't articulate.
While watching, he imagined a few months ago when your relationship wasn't in the best place. He envisioned the days his words left you with tears in your eyes and a broken heart thumping between your ribs. Those were the days that brought you to L. He tried picturing it now, you after work, finding comfort in the other man. Finding refuge from the one who was supposed to love you more than anyone in this world.
But Light did love you. Even after all of this, he was sure of it. And more than that, he still believed he was the best person for you. He'd known you forever after all. Longer than anyone else in his life or yours besides parents. When he looked at you these days, sometimes he still saw the girl who used to write her initials on the tips of his sneakers during recess. You'd get the same look in your eyes working on the case now that you used to get filling out study guides in school. When you laughed, it rang out the same, and when you cried, your lip quivered like it did the time you skinned your knee on the way to his house. 
He couldn't forget any of that even if this did hurt him worse than anything else he'd ever felt before, and he wouldn't let this thing with L take you away from him. He'd just have to hold out until you all caught Kira, and the two of you could move on.
The only thing he felt a little alarmed by right now was that holding out didn't seem like such a chore any more. Despite his pain, he couldn't deny the way his cock was filling out in his pants as he watched you get felt up and pleasured by someone else.
"My turn," he mumbled as he forced himself to return to his senses, "I want a turn with her before we share."
You blinked yourself back to reality as you felt his voice wedging between you and L. The man who'd been kneading your breasts while fingering you reluctantly pulled his digits out of your cunt and then removed his hand from your sweatpants. He gave you a few more gentle pecks to your throat before giving you a nudge back to your boyfriend.
Crawling towards Light, you didn't make it all the way there before his arms came out and dragged you close. His lips crashed against yours in an instant. Your noses bumped and his hands squeezed you tight. Despite the haste of it all, you had no problem matching his movements. You knew Light's body as well as you knew your own.
Your hand slid up into his hair, giving it a soft tug in the way you knew he liked. He moaned against your lips and kissed harder. Everything he was doing felt familiar, just at an increased volume.
"You're still mine," he whispered against your lips before making out with you in full again. He didn't give you a chance to respond before his mouth was back on yours.
You whined into the kisses, sinking into the cushions below you as he laid you out across them. His lips worked down over your neck in a similar pattern to L. He worked on marking the side of your throat the other man hadn't touched while his hands roamed your torso.
Squirming a little beneath him, your head tilted back against the couch, and you found yourself looking up at L. When your eyes met, his hand came out and stroked your cheek. He swiped his thumb back and forth over the curve of it.
"Can't have you forgetting about me," Light muttered between pecks to your neck.
"I didn't," you breathed. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tightened them.
He hummed in acknowledgement before rolling his hips against you, allowing you to feel his bulge grind between your thighs.
"Since you want us both, I'm gonna let you have us both," he whispered.
You turned your head and kissed along his cheek and temple. It didn't feel right saying 'thank you' to something like that, so you could only hope your touches would fill their place.
"Go sit in his lap. With your back against his chest," he commanded.
He then pulled off of you and allowed you to get up. Slowly, you rose off of your back and scooted in L's direction. He was ready to take you into his arms again. He positioned himself against the armrest of the couch and sat you on his lap like Light wanted. You could feel his stiff length poking against your ass as you did.
Once you were in place, Light leaned forward again and hooked his index fingers over the waistband of your pants. He pulled them down with your panties, leaving you exposed on top of L.
"Spread your legs, baby. I wanna see if you're ready," he said softly.
You obeyed and opened your thighs for him. L's hands dipped in and stroked the smooth skin on your inner legs, causing your cheeks to fill with heat again. Even though both men had seen you naked and felt every part of your body before, both of them doing it together was different.
Light's eyes trailed down your figure before landing on your center. They stared at the wetness gathered there, trying to judge if you could take them.
"Who knew you were so greedy? Almost soaked through your panties at the thought of two cocks at the same time," he mocked.
"At the same time?" you repeated. You knew you asked to be shared, but you didn't think he'd take it so literally.
"Mhm. You want us both, don't you? How else did you think this would work?" he smirked.
"I don't know. I thought you guys would like take turns or be on different sides or something..." you explained.
"No. If you want both, you're gonna really take both," he responded.
Shaking his head, he stood up and pulled his shirt off. L did the same behind you, letting it fall to the flood next to the couch. From there, Light unbuttoned his pants and let them crumple to the floor. He didn't show any awkwardness about revealing his body in front of another guy.
"Do you want your shirt off?" L asked, kissing the space behind your ear.
You nodded, and the both of you peeled it off your upper body before discarding it with his.
Light palmed himself over his boxers before sliding those down as well and letting his dick spring free. He gave his shaft a few lazy strokes while gazing at you. Below your body, L worked on pushing his jeans off and freeing himself from the confines of his pants.
"Think I'll let Ryuzaki have you first, and then I'll slide in too. I wanna see if you take him like you take me," he said.
L's dark eyes stared up at the other man. He didn't want to take orders from him, but then again, he couldn't really complain about the sentiment.
"Are you good with that?" Light asked, cocking his head while looking down at the man behind you.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he responded.
His arm wrapped around your waist, reaching down between your legs to rub at your clit a few more times.
"Are you ready, sweetheart?" he murmured to you in a much softer tone.
With nervous eyes, you nodded. You pressed your lips to his for a few more soft kisses. While you were occupied, he took the chance to adjust his position and line himself up between your legs. You felt the swollen head brush your entrance. The tip slid up through your folds, feeling your wetness before dragging back down.
Your heart pounded in your chest. This was really going to happen.
And then it did. He boosted his hips the slightest bit and popped it in. You whined as your walls fluttered, embracing his familiar length with ease.
He grunted and pushed forward. Slowly, his shaft entered you, sliding forward until he bottomed out. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder where you could nuzzle into his neck. His hands swept up over your curves and kneaded your malleable flesh.
Light watched from the same position, stroking himself as he watched someone else have you in a way he thought would forever only be for him.
"Does that feel good?" he breathed, "Does he know how to do it right? Just how you like it?"
A soft whimper puffed from your lips before you gave him a shy nod. L did know all the things you liked by now. He knew the perfect angle to rock his hips at and what speed you preferred. He knew how to make your mind melt out your ears by suckling on your pulse point. He knew all the dirty things to whisper in your ear that made you tighten up on him like a vise.
Light continued to observe. His eyes scanned over how L's hips began pumping into you. How his hands cradled your legs behind the knees. He listened for every wet squelch his cock brought out of you. Every hitched breath and whiny crack in your voice.
His length throbbed at the sight. It was the most fucked-up, perverse sense of pleasure he'd ever felt. It made him sick with lust. His hands trembled with the urge to reach out and interrupt, but he made himself wait.
He let L have a little more time with you. The other man sighed, nestling his face in the crook of your neck as he enjoyed the hot, tight euphoria wrapped around his cock.
Your eyes had fluttered shut after a few good nudges to your sweet spot. You lay against his chest, held up by his arms, totally pliable. Though even in your hazy state, you could feel Light's eyes bearing down on you, examining your every move.
But despite feeling his presence, it still sent a shockwave through you when he brushed the tip of his cock against your clit.
Your back arched off of the man beneath you as a sharp whine burst from your mouth. Smearing his sticky precum over your pulsing bud, he dragged the flushed end of his length back and forth. He moved at a slower pace than L. His movements only intended to tease you, not cause any true pleasure.
"L-Light," you moaned. You squirmed your hips, trying to entice him into giving you more.
His lips curled into a small smirk. "Hold still, babe," he chided, "I know patience isn't your strong suit, but you can wait a little more."
Whining again, you gyrated your hips a few more times. L groaned at the added stimulation; the motions worked your walls around him just right. He rutted up into you with more force, which only drew more noises from you.
Light took a deep breath, working himself up. He reached forward and grabbed your calves with precise fingers. His touch was gentle but calculated like it always was. Even in what was supposed to be the heat of passion, he made sure things played out according to his plans.
One of his hands dropped to guide his cock down to your entrance. A quiet moan escaped him as L's shaft brushed his sensitive ridge. He shuddered, but he didn't back away. He pushed with more intention and watched as you started to split open around him too.
A gasp tore through you. Your pussy burned as it struggled to take both of them. You writhed desperately, trying to find a position of reprieve. L came to a stop inside you and adjusted to hold onto your hips to keep you in place.
"Shhh, you're doing so good," he cooed while his digits rubbed small circles into your skin, "You can take it."
Light's jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. His breaths became more labored as he worked himself in all the way. It was so fucking tight. The feeling of L's dick pressed up against his own was also something he'd never felt before, but something he found himself really really liking.
"You wanted us to share," he grunted, "This is how it feels."
After a few moments, you started to settle again. Four sets of fingers coasted across your body, leaving little chills in their wake. The stretch between your thighs still stung, but pleasure began overriding it as L started moving again.
He thrust a few times, letting you get used to the sensation again. Then Light worked his hips back and forth. Your toes curled, and your breaths puffed out with broken whines in between.
Both of them found a rhythm that worked in tandem with the other. Grunts, groans, and sighs echoed all around you. Every inch of your body was in contact with one of them. Your head spun from the total overstimulation along with the ecstasy burning in the pit of your belly.
"Fuck... so much... feels like so much..." you babbled.
"Yeah? A little whore like you was made for it though," Light mocked.
Your eyes rolled back and you gushed around him. The words shot through with flaring sparks of bliss. In the past, Light could get a little bold with you sometimes, but never like that. He could see the effect his tone had on you, but he didn't make any move to lessen it. He only fucked into you harder.
"You're so pretty," L added from behind your ear, "You're being such a good girl for us."
With Light now holding your legs, he moved his hands to toy with your breasts again. He pinches and tweaks your nipples, getting you to recreate those cute little squirms from before.
"So fucking needy," Light taunted, "Can't even hold still."
"It's not my fault," you pouted.
L chuckled and kissed your ear, continuing to play with the tender nubs on your chest.
"It's alright, sweetheart. Feels good when you move like that," he soothed.
Another whiny sound of need flowed from your lips before you melted back against the man behind you. Coherent thoughts could no longer form in your head. Not when you felt so full. So fucking stretched to the limit.
Light could see you fading. He pumped himself in harder, his balls swinging and brushing against the base of L's cock. His rich eyes watched the man below you. He took in his slight changes in expression when you clamped around them. He noted how his eyes softened when you let out a little squeak.
After a few moments of his staring, L finally looked up at Light. He could tell he had something to say from the intensity in his gaze
"I thought you said we were friends," Light grunted, "Do friends fuck their friend's girlfriend behind his back?"
"I didn't lie. If I didn't consider you my friend, I wouldn't have hesitated to take her all for myself," L answered, calm in spite of the situation.
Your boyfriend's glare hardened, but a fire burned within him. He wasn't sure what it was. The carelessness? The challenge? He couldn't pinpoint it, yet something about what L said worked him closer to the edge. He felt the coils of release constricting within him.
 His focus shifted to you. He saw the way your head bobbled around as though you weren't even conscious. Reaching out, he grabbed your face. Your cheeks squished under the pressure of his fingertips, and your glossy eyes opened again.
"Sluts don't get to pass out, baby. Keep those pretty eyes open. Want you looking at me when you lose it," he said.
"Sorry..." you hummed as you came back to reality.
L's hands hadn't stopped groping at your tits. After Light finished talking, he swooped in with his gentler voice.
"Are you getting close? You gonna cum all over both of us?"
You mewled and nodded, harsh breaths leaving you. Seeing how eager you are, Light's hand released your jaw and found your cunt instead. His fingers roughly rubbed at your clit, ripping more cries out of you. He spit down onto your already soaked folds.
"Let go then," he directed, "Cum for us. Let's see you finish."
His commanding words struck you and spurred you onward towards the finish line. Your hips bucked as your body quivered with the need to explode.
You finally found release when both of them thrust in unison, striking the right spots to throw you over the edge. Your body rolled with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. You could feel their hands still on you. Their palms rubbed while their fingers caressed and teased you through it. Both of their breathing became stilted as you squeezed around them impossibly tight.
L was the first to let go and allow himself to ride out the high with you. He spilled himself inside you with a few jerks of his hips and a whine erupting from his mouth. Burying his face against your throat, his arms encircled you tight.
Light kept thrusting, working you both through it. He hit his own high as you both began to come down from yours. A strangled groan fell from his lips. He tilted his head back before leaning forward and collapsing into your chest. His hips rutted forward, pumping the last of his spend into you.
It was a little difficult with Light's added weight on top of you, but L managed to wriggle his hips and pull himself out. As soon as his length popped out, you felt the stinging subside almost instantly. A dull ache replaced it. You didn't imagine walking anywhere far for at least the next twenty-four hours. Their shared loads leaked from you, seeping out around your boyfriend's softening length.
L was the most lucid of the three of you. With care, he shifted his position and held you against his chest from the side. Light still lied with his head over your pounding heart. Eventually, he eased his cock out of you. He didn't worry about the mess right now. You all could clean up in a little bit.
He turned his head to look up at you. His eyes met yours, and for the first time since he found out, he looked more hurt than anything else. You studied the expression before stroking his cheek and planting a tender peck on his lips.
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
He didn't say anything back. Instead, he closed the centimeter gap again and kissed you once more. The few seconds your lips were connected could feel like none of this mess was real. When your skin was on his, it was just you and him.
Your fingers threaded into his soft hair as L's digits rubbed your back. He sighed at the gentle touch, allowing himself to enjoy it for a few moments before he rose and leaned back.
Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked at the two of you.
"So... you really want to try and just... do this? Until we find Kira?" he asked.
"If it's ok with you..." you replied. You half expected him to laugh in your face before walking out. But he doesn't do anything so bitter.
He nodded. Worse than anything else, you could see on his face he really did intend on trying. He was going to try his hardest at this for you.
You reached forward and took his hand, guiding him closer to you again. "We can figure it out as we go. And then when we're done, we can all decide what to do together," you offered. You glanced up at L to make sure he was ok with that too, but the quick nod he gave you told you he was.
"Alright," Light agreed.
As a seal, you gave them each a soft kiss before smiling a little. Once you began to settle back in and grabbed the remote to change what played on the tv, both men's eyes found each other's in a silent, temporary truce.
Then Light looked to you again.
"Maybe you'd wanna play that game again?" he suggested, trying not to seem too soft about it.
Your eyes lit up, and you straightened out a little. "That would be so fun. Maybe you guys will be more relaxed about it this time," you teased.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head but didn't protest too much.
"You could try out that thing I told you with the shell. Maybe you'll win this time around," L added to Light as you got up to fix your clothes and start up the game.
"Maybe. You can't finish first every time, you know," he responded.
They both settled back into the couch after readjusting their own clothing. The familiar music started up on the tv as you handed them both controllers. Even though the situation between the three of you wasn't completely resolved, for the first time in months, you didn't feel the weight of secrecy across your shoulders.
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raccoon-in-the-danger-room · 6 months ago
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Logan and Wade's relationship post movie is slow burn in the most infuriating way cause they have so many hang ups about the relationship
On Logan's side: He fell in love with Wade first. Which mortifies him cause 1) Wade is still in love with Vanessa 2) they're roommates in a one bedroom apartment with Blind Al until he gets his life together in a parallel world where he's technically dead and his SSN is donezo 3) Wade Winston Wilson is probably the most embarrassing person to have a crush on, let alone be in love with. Logan will defend him to heaven and hell and back, but even he knows it's crazy to fall for the Blowjob Queen of Sasqatoon.
He's fully aware of his feelings but tries to squash it down, acts like he hates Wade's guts. Even though every morning he wakes up early to make coffee for the both of them before Wade wakes up. Even though he's memorized what's his favorite gun cleaner and oil are, then stocks them up before Wade even notices his supply is running low. Even though he's the most at peace when Wade and Laura are having Girls' Night in the living room, wearing face masks and watching A24 horror films, while he's kicking back with Blind Al in the kitchen, sipping shitty beer.
On Wade's side: He has no idea Logan likes him. Or, better to say, he has no idea WHY Logan would like him. He might be gods perfect idiot, but if 2+2 = 22, then if someone tells you to shut up and stabs you in every argument to be had, they can't possibly LIKE like you. So even when the initial hostility of being new roommates dies down, he takes the domesticity they find together a side effect of being a Wolverine over the age of 40 with a teenage daughter and no active income in sight. "Beggars can't be ungrateful bastards who couch surf for free" and all that jazz.
Wade is also still hooked up on Vanessa. She'll always be his soul mate, and that will never change. So they try to talk it out. They go on a couple dates. They try to work something, anything out, but in the end they both agree it just isn't right anymore. They still love each other, but that doesn't mean they should be in a relationship. They both deserve better than to be stuck in the past.
So by the time Wade is single for real, Logan is already set on them not getting together. Previous points aside, he's no rebound chick. He just got promoted from Worst Wolverine to Okay-est Wolverine (via the coffee mug Laura got him from etsy) -- so he's absolutely NOT fucking gonna be a sloppy bitch and make a move on his roommate after he got out of a whatever the fuck situationship with his ex-dead, ex-fiance.
When they finally get together, it's so far down the line and so slow-burn, that they genuinely don't know how they got there. All they know is that they share a new one bedroom apartment together, alone (but Blind Al lives on the same floor of the complex) and that they are so far gone in domestic bliss that they're arguing with each other over how to properly assemble a pet condo for Mary Puppins.
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rimunagenius · 9 months ago
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It’s Time You Switch
ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
ʚ word count: 4.4k words
ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!
| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |
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"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.
Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.
"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.
You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.
"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.
"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.
"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.
"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.
"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.
You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.
That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.
You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.
"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.
"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.
"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.
"Paige, that's a little mean."
"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.
"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.
Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.
"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.
"What does that mean?"
"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.
"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.
"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.
"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.
"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.
"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.
"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.
She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.
Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.
"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.
"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.
You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.
Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.
While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.
Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.
"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.
"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.
You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.
You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.
You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.
You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.
She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.
You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.
Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.
She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.
Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.
She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.
Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.
She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.
The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.
"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.
"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.
"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.
"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.
The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.
"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.
"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.
Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.
The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.
You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.
The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.
She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.
Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.
"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.
The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.
You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.
You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.
Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.
There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.
Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.
"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.
"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.
You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.
The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.
"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.
"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.
That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.
"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.
The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.
Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.
She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.
Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.
Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.
Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.
It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.
Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.
"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.
Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.
Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.
You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.
The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.
"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.
"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.
"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.
"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.
"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."
"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.
You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."
"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.
"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."
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simpjaes · 1 year ago
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FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)
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Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.
៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 
៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader
៸៸៸WC: 9.3k
៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed
៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)
smut tags under cut::​​​
SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?
In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.
 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 
Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?
Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.
23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 
Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.
At least that she’s aware of.
She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.
For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 
What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.
 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 
Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.
“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”
You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.
“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 
“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.
The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.
“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”
“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”
You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.
“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 
Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 
“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”
“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 
You shrug. 
“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”
“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”
“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 
Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.
“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”
You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.
“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”
In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 
“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 
Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 
“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 
“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 
Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 
Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 
“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.
“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.
He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.
“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”
Ah. He’s one of those guys. 
“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 
“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”
“God, you are such a bore.” 
Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.
“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 
“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”
Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 
“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 
He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 
“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 
He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.
 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.
“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 
“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 
“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.
“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 
Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.
“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”
You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 
“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 
“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”
Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.
“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.
It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 
“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”
He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”
“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”
Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”
“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”
Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”
“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”
His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 
“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 
Offense taken. 
And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 
“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”
“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 
He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.
When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 
You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.
“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.
“Very monotonous, very you.”
Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.
“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”
You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.
“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”
He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.
“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”
Oh, okay.
“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”
Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.
“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”
You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 
“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 
“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 
You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 
“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 
“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 
You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.
He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.
 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 
“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 
You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 
“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 
“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.
Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 
“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 
You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 
“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”
You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 
Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.
“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 
“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 
You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 
“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.
Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 
When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.
“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 
You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 
Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 
Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 
“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”
You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.
So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 
He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 
Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 
“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 
The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 
He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.
He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 
Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 
“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”
That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 
Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 
You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 
This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.
“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 
You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.
Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 
“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”
Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 
You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 
“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.
Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 
“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”
He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 
You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.
“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”
He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.
His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 
“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”
You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 
Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 
You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 
This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.
God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.
And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.
You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 
When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 
“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”
You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 
“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 
Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.
“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”
He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 
“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 
He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–
You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 
“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”
You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 
Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.
“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.
You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 
“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”
Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 
Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 
“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”
This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.
“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.
He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 
“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”
“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.
Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.
He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 
“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 
You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.
Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  
And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 
He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 
“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”
You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 
He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 
God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 
“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.
“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 
He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 
You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.
His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 
You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 
You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.
He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 
“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 
You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 
Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.
The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.
Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.
“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 
You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 
Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.
You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.
“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”
She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 
“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”
His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 
“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”
Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 
“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.
“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.
“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 
“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”
Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 
“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”
She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 
It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.
“I wouldn’t be against it.”
“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 
“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”
You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 
“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”
Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 
“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
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mimipolo · 1 month ago
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Nam-gyu x GN!reader headcanons
I started writing just because I had so many scenarios of him in my head I needed to get out so tysm for liking my last post.
No this is not proof read, I MIGHT edit it later.
This man is horribly clingly to an extreme. Will hold onto anything in reach clothes, arm, shoulder. Honestly anywhere you'll allow him to. He won't touch the obvious places that would vouch for consent but he'd definitely be eager if you say he could.
And if you're someone's that's not into being constantly touched all the time he'd try his best to respect that but there'll definitely be moments when he reaches out for you and stops midway or his hand brushes you briefly. At some point he can't take it and takes a different route by standing so close your shoulders touch or instead urging you to initiate.
I feel like he takes care of his hands the best, his hair is choppy and his apartment is a state but he'll always make time to trim and take care of his nails. You asked him about it before and he just said he bites his nails a lot and didn't further explain why.
He seems like the type to be jittery a lot even when he's not high, in fact I think his hands would possibly shake less when he is. His hands shaking doesn't always necessarily means he's nervous but if you take them in yours to comfort him he'd definitely milk the hell out of it and hold out his hands to you expecting you to run your thumbs over them, that playful grin he always wears when he knows he's about to get what he wants on his face as he tilts his head at you.
Jealousy is in his top three emotions. He's far from perfect unfortunately and his possessiveness is definitely one of those defining traits. He would casually bring up bad things a person you're getting close to has done (like he's any better). Rubbing your back and preaching about how you should just stick with him.
Likes it if you run your hands down his back and sides, at first he found it annoying because of how ticklish it felt but shut up when you pointed out how hypocritical he was being. Being the fraud he is he quickly grew to like it, slumping his body over yours and as always expects to receive the embrace.
Lets you cut his hair, it's honestly the least of his concerns, is what he tells you at least. Sometimes you'll catch him picking at his hair in the reflection for too long. He's sat on the floor of your bathroom as you sit on the bathtub rim facing the mirror, his eyes are trained on your hands the whole time and he just couldn't help constantly making distracting pointers, a nudge to his side earns you a scoff before he eventually just let's you work.
Would constantly be twirling your hair if he's on call, he's persistent. If you have short hair or bald he'd scratch your scalp or nape of your neck, anything nearest to him.
He'd genuinely be happy if you initiated touch, even if it's not in public. He just liked the knowledge that you also like him enough to reciprocate.
This guy definitely has a staring problem, usually on your side or back profile but sometimes he zeroes in on random places that make you raise an eyebrow at him or push his head away flustered. And no you can't stare at him back he'll start blubbering about something that doesn't make sense and rubs his hands together to ease the nerves.
Defends you quietly, anyone that has talked behind your back gets confronted away from you. Obviously if they insult you in front of him he's swearing and throwing out threats he can't stand up to. If he wins (if) he'd try to act cool as he shrugs and wipes the blood from his nose and nudges you playfully, scolding you for "always getting him in trouble."
Absolutely insufferable during movies, won't shut up. Constantly pointing out bad acting or something he would've done in the characters position. Will only be quiet if you take charge of feeding him popcorn when you can tell he's about to yap, the instinct comes naturally after being around him for so long. Only times you'll mostly let him talk is during tense scenes in horror movies, it's alright then as he talks your ear off about random stuff in the movie that's somehow not relevant. Your eyes screwed with anxiety to the screen as he laughs and pulls you closer to his side (he starts talking to calm himself down because he's just as scared.)
Likes how warm your stomach is, always coming up behind you just to lay his cold hands on your stomach, causing you to jolt because he's like freezing?? He only chuckles and presses himself closer against you as he squeezes your sides. It's almost as if he knows how annoying he is.
Whenever you two lie in bed there's always a moment where he's lying on your chest, he honestly just looks thoughtless as he stares into the gap where your shirt meets your collarbone. Sighs heavily like a burdens been lifted when he smooth your palm over his hair and kiss his temple. You always fall asleep before him, I honestly believe he's an insomniac or at least has some problems sleeping, he's content just lying on you as you doze off though.
If you had a specific or unique style he'd admire it a lot. Honestly proud because he can't be asked to put the same effort into himself. If you do dress him up he'll feel good for a moment before feeling like an imposter and taking it off. The only accessories he has are his necklace and rings (you complimented them once and he hasn't thought of going back since.)
As much as he refuses to admit other people's views and opinions of him are a big part of his life. And after so many negative comments about himself he didn't see the point in trying to change it, instead he indulged in all the guilty pleasures they accused him of because what did he have to lose? But any kind words you give him he hangs onto like a life line, even just saying his name correctly has him hooked(Thanos...). He'll act all smug as you praise him, nodding and grinning while his ears flush red.
He also loves your hands. Kissing the tips, knuckles, pulse joint, everywhere. Makes you involuntary hold his face or put your hands on him. Likes seeing your hands intwined a lot, it feels solidifying.
Geekiest smile ever oh my days. He always looks so intimidating when he's outside but the moment another person (especially you) enters his bubble he's all smiles and chuckles, ducking his head softly as his hand covers his mouth. He could not handle being alone for too long.
The type of guy to randomly show up outside your apartment with takeaway with no warning and fully expects you to let him in, he knows you don't go out so it's the least you could do. Is already a foot inside your doorway when you finally open the door when you stop him, hand on your hip as you look him up and down.
"Since when did you have takeaway money?"
"Do you not wanna eat? Damn just let me in."
Chat can you tell I adore him 🤓
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pixeljade · 11 months ago
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Okay so JK Rowling has:
• Openly been transphobic as fuck
• Donated tons of money to causes which have eroded trans rights across the globe, to the point of being one the biggest forces behind the current transphobe movement
• Defended slavery in her most popular work (House elves LIKE being slaves thoooo 🙄)
• Used racist caricatures which have racist names in her most popular work (Kingsley Shacklebolt, Cho Chang, Seamus Finnigan)
• Used antisemitic caricatures in her most popular work (Goblins)
• And if you're still "well, but..."-ing the antisemitism of the Goblins, the recent game was straight-up the definition of blood libel
• Completely botched her representation of native americans because she doesnt care enough to do research
• Used the name of the man who invented conversion therapy as a pseudonym to write books
• Made a movie set in her universe where the *VILLAINS* goal is to stop the holocaust (which. WOW)
• And has now engaged in ACTUAL HOLOCAUST DENIAL
Seriously, how bad does she have to get before you all will admit to yourselves that supporting her is the same as supporting nazism??? "It was part of my childhood!" Same!!! And it sucks to admit that something you used to love is actually awful and harmful!!! But also at some point you have to just...move on!!!! "Oh I'm sure its just a mistake!" Why, because she claimed that ONE character is gay and wouldnt even let it be shown ever??? Because the main villain was slightly more cartoonishly racist than she is???? Because one of the most popular characters quit being a cartoon racist *BECAUSE HE WAS HORNY*?
Seriously. Give up Harry Potter. No grey area anymore.
Edit: forgot some shit she did, added it
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eiralunaire · 2 months ago
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Headcanos of Damian Wayne.
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1. Small Gestures of Tenderness.
Although Damian would never admit it out loud, he always feels inexplicably more relaxed when he's around his girlfriend. He often watches her in silence, observing the small details, like the way she laughs, her expression when she's focused, or how she always has something to say, even when she doesn't feel like talking. There's something about those moments that makes him feel, for the first time in his life, that war and fighting aren't everything.
2. Defender of Her Well-Being.
Damian, who has been trained to be cold and calculating, can't help but become extremely protective when it comes to her. If someone looks at her wrong, even in jest, he'll step in without thinking, making it clear with his gaze (and sometimes his threat of "don't do it again") that no one can hurt her. He's convinced that it's his responsibility to take care of her, but it's more of an internal desire to make sure nothing bad ever happens to her.
3. The Typical Sarcastic and Jealous Behavior.
When it comes to other men, Damian is relentless. Although he would never express it in an obvious way, he feels extremely uncomfortable if any kind of unwanted attention is directed towards his girlfriend. It is common for his sarcastic tone to appear when some guy talks too close to her. "Really? Do you think she wants to hear that?" he would say, with an almost imperceptible smile on his lips, as he takes a step forward.
4. Thoughtful (albeit weird) Gifts.
He is not the type of boyfriend to buy expensive jewelry or flowers (because he doesn't know how those things work), but what he does do is remember the little details about what his girlfriend likes. One day, unbeknownst to her, Damian shows up with a rare book she mentioned in a casual conversation, or with that chocolate she is known to like a lot. The truth is, he's become an expert at listening to her, not just because of his tactical intelligence, but because he genuinely wants to please her, even if his way of showing it is... unconventional.
5. Intimate Moments of Vulnerability.
When Damian is with his girlfriend, his guard is down in ways that only happen with her. It can be something as simple as watching a movie together, or lying next to her after a long day of training, but in those moments, he doesn't have to live up to his last name or his lineage. It's just him, Damian Wayne, simply enjoying her company. It's a luxury he doesn't usually get with anyone else, but with her, it's something that constantly draws him in and comforts him.
6. Interactions with His Family.
Despite his reserved attitude, Damian has found himself talking more to his family about his girlfriend, albeit in a slightly brusque manner. With Bruce, for example, his attitude towards her is a kind of possessiveness that makes it clear that he wants her in his life, but he also knows that his father will never really understand what he feels. With Alfred, however, he seems more relaxed, because he knows that the butler sees what he sometimes can't recognize: how happy their relationship makes him.
7. Subtle but Efficient Jealousy.
Damian can't help but show jealousy, although he does it in a subtle and almost childish way. For example, if his girlfriend talks a lot with another guy (even if he's a close friend), he may make comments like: "Since when are you so interested in what he has to say?" or suddenly offer to take her back to her apartment, as if there was some "urgent" business to attend to, to prevent her from staying too long with that person. It's his way of saying "I want you all to myself" without having to say it directly.
8. He Likes Deep Conversations.
Damian isn’t a man of many words, but when he’s with his girlfriend, he finds it easy to open up and share things he never thought he’d say. He likes to talk to her about topics that have nothing to do with war or fighting, like his views on the future or what he thinks about life. Sometimes, he catches himself talking more than he planned, but he doesn’t mind, because he knows he can be vulnerable with her, something he’s learned to deeply appreciate.
9. The Vulnerability of Being “The Man”.
When he’s with her, Damian feels weird about not being able to show off everything he knows how to do. I mean, with his combat skills and tactical intelligence, he could defend her from anything, but what really attracts him to her is how she calms him down and makes him feel more human. In her mind, that makes him more than just Bruce Wayne’s son or trained assassin. He makes her feel a little more normal, like any other guy in love, and that thought baffles him, but he loves it at the same time.
10. Sudden Moments of Insecurity.
Despite all his training and his confident facade, Damian sometimes feels insecure in their relationship. There are times when he doubts himself: Is he really up to par with her? Will he be enough for someone like her, who has so much to offer? Although he would never admit it, he has those moments of uncertainty that make him more human. However, as time goes on, he realizes that all he really needs to do is be himself, and sometimes, even a more vulnerable and caring Damian can be what attracts her the most.
11. The Unspoken "I Protect You".
Although he never says it outright, Damian is obsessed with the idea of ​​protecting her. If she is ever sad, he turns into a wall of ice, willing to face anything to make her feel safe. This leads to more possessive behavior, but he doesn't see it that way. It's his way of showing her that even though he's not the traditional boyfriend type, he'll always be there for her, even if that means walking away from conflict and just offering his company.
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