#he's rather fond of his job...usually

[authorchariot]

> ENTRY: ITS_ALWAYS_THE_QUIET_ONES

RATING: explicit

CATEGORY: top gun: maverick (2022)

PAIRING: bob floyd x afab!reader (mc's call sign is 'pez'.)

EST. READING TIME: 37m 0s

INDEX TAGS: (not actually) unrequited love, cock-warming, friends to lovers, love confessions, masturbation, not beta read, oral sex, pov second person, size difference, size kink, vaginal sex

ACCESS MATERIAL ON AO3 OR BELOW

The Hard Deck is louder than it's been in weeks. Rooster and Hangman are fighting over the jukebox. Payback's halfway into a dramatic retelling of the mission to a captivated circle of admirers, punctuated with exaggerated hand gestures and Maverick's quiet chuckling. Fanboy's mixing questionable liquors together like he's auditioning for a bartending job no one asked for. It's celebration in full swing. The mission's done. Everyone's alive. Everyone made it home.

And Bob — quiet, dependable, sweet, baby-faced Bob Floyd — is drunk.

He doesn't look it at first. But you can see it in the tilt of his shoulders, the soft pink in his cheeks, the vague squint he gives the bottles behind the counter like he's trying to read through a fog.

You spot it from across the room. You've been watching him on and off all night. Not in a creepy way— At least, you hope not. Just in a way that's...careful. Curious. Quiet. Like you always are with Bob. Because if you let yourself feel it too hard — the pull, the fondness, the way he talks with his hands when he's excited — you might never stop.

You've had a drink; just the one. You're a designated driver tonight. That and watching Bob lose his balance trying to sit on a barstool has very effectively sobered you up. You finish your water, nod to Phoenix and move across the bar like the world isn't tilting just a little because he's looking at you now.

Why?

Because you've had a thing for Bob Floyd since the first day you saw him fiddling with the collar of his flight suit, too quiet for the room but, damn, if he didn't hold his own in the air. Because he always remembers how you like your coffee. Because he asked how your dog was doing after his surgery, even two weeks later. Because he makes you feel seen.

"Hey." You say gently, sliding into the space next to him. "You good?" He blinks at you. Then his face lights up; not like a flash but a slow dawn that warms everything it touches.

"Pez." He says, soft and too fond for how casual he tries to sound. "You're here." You smile.

"Been here the whole time, Bob." He looks at his drink like it's betrayed him.

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

You glance him over. His collar is a little crooked and his glasses are ever-so-slightly askew. His usually neat hair is slightly mussed and there's a half-moon mark on his palm where he's been gripping his glass too hard. He's not swaying. But he's definitely drifting. You rest a hand lightly on the edge of the bar.

"How many have you had?" He frowns.

"Three. No— Wait. Hangman said the one he gave me didn't count 'cause it was pink."

"That doesn't sound right." Bob leans closer and squints at you.

"You smell like mint."

"That'd be the gum I've been chewing instead of drinking." You reply, amused. "Come on. Let's get you out of here." He straightens. Sort of.

"I'm fine."

"You're adorable." You correct. "But also definitely tipsy and I'd rather you didn't fall asleep like last time."

"I didn't fall asleep, I—"

"You nodded off against the jukebox for twenty-three minutes." He considers this.

"It was playing Fleetwood Mac." You arch a brow.

"That's your excuse?" He almost looks offended.

"I like Fleetwood Mac." He mumbles. You can't help it; you laugh. And, across the bar, the other Dagger Squad pilots exhale in collective relief like finally. It goes unnoticed by you.

You help Bob off his stool, a drink forgotten in his hand, and he goes to steady himself on the edge of the bar but misjudges the distance. In trying to recover, the remnants of his last beer spill all over his uniform shirt, making it cling to him like a second skin.

"Woah!" You grab onto his shoulders. "You okay?" He stumbles slightly as he tries to catch himself, hands reflexively reaching out to hold onto your arms for support. His cheeks turn a bright shade of pink as he feels the cold beer seeping into his shirt, looking down at the mess with embarrassment.

"Sorry..." He murmurs and you haul him upright.

"Don't apologise." You glance across to see Phoenix chuckling and shaking her head. "I think I need to take you home though." He laughs nervously, pushes his hair out of his eyes and tries to straighten his glasses.

"Yeah... Yeah, that might be a good idea." He leans against you for support as you start helping him to the door. You yell over your shoulder that you're taking him home, wishing the rest of them a good night. Some of the Dagger Squad murmur something you don't quite hear as you reach the door, pushing it open and stepping out into the cool sea breeze.

He takes a deep breath, trying to clear his head, as you help him out to the parking lot. You open the passenger-side door for him and he near-collapses onto the car seat. "Thanks for doing this." He says softly, looking up at you with those sweet, grateful eyes. You watch him fumble with his hands as he tries to buckle himself in.

"Stop being so damn polite." You smile, shutting the door and rounding the hood to get in the driver's seat.

The drive to his is short but pleasant. Well, if it wasn't for the scent of beer slowly sinking into his shirt and your car seat. The windows are rolled down and you can feel the wind on your face. Neither of you talk but it's a nice silence, like the two of you are just content in each other's company. You like it that way. Like you don't have to fill the silence to be comfortable; you can just co-exist.

You like the relationship you have with Bob; it's easy and natural. You just feel...at home with him, like you don't have to pretend to be social or talkative. But there's always that warmth that buzzes just below the surface when he catches your eye or when he smiles. Or when he laughs. Or when he fiddles with his glasses. Or when he does literally anything.

Safe to say, you like him a whole lot; pretty much since you were brought on board for the Dagger Squad.

But you don't want to say anything because what if it makes things weird between you? What if he's not into it and everything just gets awkward? What if you accidentally gush about how gorgeous he looks in his uniform and he thinks you're an absolute creep for admiring the way his shirt stretches across his broad shoulders and the way his pants hug his ass perfectly? He probably already knows and just pretends not to for exactly the same reasons. He probably knows and has also made up his mind that you're not really the one for him. He would've said something by now if he was into you but he hasn't so he probably isn't. It's not something you like thinking about.

Finally, you pull up to his house and park outside. You get out, open his door and stand there, just in case he needs the support again.

"I'm fine. I'm good." He starts to protest before immediately losing his balance and grabbing onto your arm. "Actually..." Rolling your eyes, you hang onto him and close the door.

"C'mon, let's get you inside, mister." He leans against you as you walk up to his house. He's so warm and he smells good, despite the spilt beer. He's wearing that aftershave his mom got him for Christmas again. It's citrusy and sweet but still masculine and fresh. He smells amazing.

When you haul him up the short flight of stairs and reach the front door, he digs his hand into his pocket and struggles to get his keys out for a moment. He must try to insert the key into the lock a good three times, each time stabbing the door just shy of the lock.

"Can't seem to..." He mumbles and you gently place your hand over his, guiding the key into the lock with a satisfying click, turning it and opening the door.

"There we go." You smile warmly and he stares at you for a moment, swallowing hard, before grabbing onto the door frame and stepping inside.

Once inside, you turn the light on and close the door behind you. He kicks off his shoes and pats down his chest. His uniform shirt is still clinging to him, now sticky from the spilt beer. His nose crinkles as you unlace your shoes and place them on the rack.

"Gotta shower..." He slurs softly. By the time you stand up to look at him, he's already halfway done unbuttoning his shirt. Your eyes flick down over the angles of his collarbone and, before you can look further, you avert your eyes.

"Okay, which way's the bathroom?" You ask a little too quickly.

"Upstairs, first door on the left." He points vaguely towards the stairs before continuing to unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off and pulling off his undershirt. He's always so conservative with his clothes; never wearing anything too revealing. Hell, even at the beach, he wears a shirt when the rest of the squad is more than happy to run around half-naked. You look back from the stairs to find him shirtless and it's almost impossible to look away.

God, he's gorgeous, almost to the point where it's at odds with his sweet, boyish smile. Strong shoulders, perfect biceps, broad chest, narrow hips; he could be carved out of granite and you wouldn't even be able to tell the difference— You shake the thought from your head before it can take root.

He tosses his shirt on the floor and yawns. "You don't have to wait for me or anything." He says and you bring yourself back to the present, your eyes flicking back up to his face. You just pray, in his inebriated state, that he didn't just catch you eyeballing his bare chest.

"No, I don't need to go to the bathroom, Bob. I'm taking you up because I don't trust you on the stairs." You tell him and he protests weakly but you help him up anyway.

When you reach the bathroom, he leans against the sink for support and you have to look away as you notice the veins in his arms and hands become more pronounced from the pressure. Maybe that one drink you had was a little stronger than you thought. God, what would those fingers feel like in your mouth? Or in your— "You gonna be okay in the shower?" You ask him and he runs a hand through his hair.

"Mhm. I'm not that drunk." He assures you. "You can go watch TV or something." He reaches down to unbuckle his belt and you pin your gaze to the floor.

"I-I'll stand outside the door just in case, alright?" You manage and he gives you that wonderful, lopsided smile that makes the tips of your fingers tingle.

"Alright." He reaches down for his belt and you almost slam the door shut, stepping back to lean against the opposite wall. You let out a slow exhale. You're heart's going a mile a minute.

Distraction. You need a distraction; something — anything — to get your mind off what it would feel like to have your lips on his or your tongue on his neck or your hands on his chest... Heat pools in the pit of your stomach; a desperate, deep-seated ache. You pull out your phone and start flicking through your socials, trying to find something else to focus on but it's no use.

You hear the shower hiss to life and you can't help but think about what he'd look like if you poked your head in for just a moment; shiny from the water, dripping with soap suds and wreathed in steam. Goddamn... But you couldn't breach his privacy, betray his trust, like that, especially while he's drunk and vulnerable. Even thinking about it feels like a betrayal but you can't get the thought out of your head and the aching between your legs only grows stronger.

Maybe you should've let someone else bring him home.

Eventually, the shower turns off and the bathroom door opens, letting out a cloud of steam as Bob steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist as he uses another to dry his hair. His skin gleams in the low light of the hallway, flushed pink from the hot water, damp hair falling in front of his face. He's being unknowingly, impossibly cruel.

"Better?" You manage, somewhat breathless.

"Yeah. So much better." Thankfully, he doesn't seem capable of noticing your — very obvious — attraction to him right now. He positions his glasses back on the bridge of his nose as you push off the wall and onto your feet, your own knees slightly weak.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed, yeah?"

"You don't have to baby me, Pez. I'm sobering up now." He responds softly but lets you guide him anyway, his hand dwarfing your own. He's still a little unsteady on his feet as you reach his bedroom.

You stand by the door, leaning against the doorframe, looking over his bedroom. There are certificates lining the walls and pictures of him and his parents at birthdays and holidays. It makes your chest feel tight. He walks over to the dresser and pulls open a drawer, rifling through to pick out a pair of loose sweatpants. As he pulls out a pair, the towel comes undone from around his waist and pools on the floor. Your eyes go wide and you jerk your head away but not before getting a perfect view of his round, peachy ass. This is cruel and unusual punishment but you're too weak to complain.

Once he's pulled on the sweatpants and slid into bed, his hair still damp against the pillow, he takes off his glasses, folds them up and places them on the nightstand before looking at you as you linger in the doorway, looking awkward and out-of-place. "C'mon." He mumbles sleepily. "It's late and you're tired too." He weakly pulls back the covers on the other side of the bed; a silent invitation. One you want to jump at. But you can't.

He's drunk and not thinking straight and you don't trust yourself. Not that you'd touch him; never that. But you're devastatingly wet and you already know you need to take care of that and you can't do it next to him. To take your mind off that thought, you grab a glass and fill it with water from the bathroom sink before placing it on the nightstand.

"I'll sleep downstairs. Just yell if you need anything, okay?" You tell him and he nods, a flicker of disappointment flashing across his face.

"Okay... Thanks for taking care of me." A smile curves at your lips as you brush a couple of damp locks out of his face. It brings you some modicum of relief, just that little bit of tender skin-to-skin contact.

"No problem." You sigh longingly, almost ruefully. "Night, Bob." You turn on your heel to leave the room and he catches your wrist with a hand, making you stop in your tracks.

"Hey, could you stay?" He asks, voice small. You turn back to look at him over your shoulder. "Just until I fall asleep?" Your heart melts in your chest as you turn back toward him.

"Sure." You sit on the edge of the bed, holding his hand and brushing your thumb over his knuckles. He looks up at you, eyes lidded with exhaustion. His fingers tighten around yours slightly and you feel your pulse racing.

Finally, his fingers loosen on yours as his eyes drop shut. You let out a soft sigh, releasing his hand and rising from the bed. You watch him for a moment, considering, before leaning down to brush a kiss to his forehead. "Sleep tight, Bobby."

You turn off all the lights and head back downstairs. You set up a little bed for yourself on the couch and slip out of your uniform, laying back against the couch cushions in your t-shirt and underwear.

After a moment, you find your hand drifting down between your thighs, pressing your fingertips against the gusset of your panties. It's absolutely sodden. You sigh in defeat, sling one leg over the back of the sofa and push the gusset of your panties to one side, sliding your fingers inside yourself with a sigh, pressing your thumb to the hood of your clit and working in slow circles. With your free hand, you grab a pillow and press it over your mouth to muffle the soft moans that fall from your lips despite knowing that Bob is probably dead to the world right now.

You finish yourself off quickly; imagining it's his fingers buried inside you, his tongue drawing slow, languid circles around your clit. The only sound is the buzzing of the fridge in the kitchen and the soft whines you try to drown out behind the pillow pressed against your face.

As soon as you're done, you pull your underwear back on properly and collapse onto your side, huddling into the blankets, cheeks flaming with heat. You're a mess for him but he can't know that, even if the rest of the Dagger Squad does.

Finally, the sun rises and you pack up the blankets and pillows you'd used before pulling on your pants from the day before. You yawn and stretch before heading into the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. Your stomach rumbles. After all, you haven't eaten since before the party last night.

Looking up, you check the clock above the fridge. About 10 am. Not too bad.

While rummaging around for the creamer, you stumble across a carton of eggs and a packet of bacon about to go out of date. Pulling them out, you grab a skillet from a nearby rack and set out to make some breakfast.

Upstairs, Bob rubs the sleep from his eyes and replaces his glasses, the glass of water from the night before thoroughly drained throughout the night. He pulls back the covers, swings his legs over the side and pulls on a t-shirt before heading to the bathroom. When he comes back out, he pads down the stairs, drawn toward the scent of bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen.

You hum to yourself as you flip the bacon over, the eggs growing crispy around the edges but the centre staying soft and jammy. You notice Bob leaning against the doorframe out of the corner of your eye, staying quiet as he watches you work. It's domestic, comforting and you find yourself wishing you could do this for him every morning. Finally, you turn to face him and he smiles warmly. Thankfully, he doesn't seem hungover.

"Morning." He says softly, voice a little lower and scratchier from sleep.

"Morning. How'd you sleep?"

"Like a brick." He responds with a small smile, pushing away from the doorframe and walking further into the small kitchen. His voice drops to a more serious tone "Thanks for taking care of me last night. And for making breakfast." He pauses by the counter, looking at you appreciatively. "You didn't have to do all this."

"I know." You reply simply. He pauses before he quickly looks away, grabbing some plates and cutlery from the cupboards and drawers.

"Need any help?" He asks gruffly, setting the plates next to the stove.

"No, I'm nearly finished here." You turn off the heat and plate up the bacon and eggs before setting the empty skillet on the cool side of the stove. "Order up."

You carry the plates over to the small table in the corner of the kitchen. Bob digs in eagerly, making appreciative noises between bites. The food is simple but perfect; exactly what he needs after shifting a good amount of alcohol the night prior. You set a couple of mugs down on the table and pour the coffee before sitting down to tuck into your own breakfast, humming in satisfaction.

You eat in relative silence, stealing glances at each other over the rims of your coffee cups and between forkfuls of bacon and eggs. The morning light filtering through the window casts a warm glow over his features. He looks peaceful — content, even — sitting across from you, like this is something you do on the regular. You wish it was regular. You want these quiet mornings with him; sharing coffee in comforting silence, surrounded by the scent of fried eggs, the silence only broken by the soft chirping of birds outside.

"Thanks." He says again. "For everything."

"Really, it's fine." You laugh softly, clearing your plate and setting it to one side with your cutlery. He does the same, leaning back in his chair and taking a long sip of coffee.

"Y'know, you're really good at this." He murmurs, the words half-muffled by his coffee cup. "Taking care of people, I mean."

"I try my best. Especially when I know it's someone who deserves it." You reply easily as if it's just common knowledge. Perhaps you said too much but it's early and the atmosphere is cloying; peaceful and almost romantic as it is. He stares at you for a moment before taking another sip of his coffee and sliding his plate under yours, putting his cutlery on top. "Bobby, you're a really good guy." You say, staring down into your coffee.

"You think so?" He asks and you nod. There's a pause before he clears his throat. "Would you— Can I— Can I tell you something?" You nod again, lifting your gaze to meet his as he mutters something under his breath. "Okay..." He takes a deep breath, steeling himself. "I think you're amazing. And not just because of how you were on the mission or taking care of me last night or making breakfast..." He sets his coffee cup down, hands tapping restlessly on the side of the table. "I just think you're amazing. Just...as a person." You just stare at him for a moment before heat creeps along your cheeks and you smile widely.

"I think you're amazing too." He relaxes slightly, scrubbing a hand along his face, as you get up to take the dishes to the sink. When you cross the kitchen again, he's worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"So... Hypothetically..." He starts, not daring to look up at you as he picks at a loose thread on his t-shirt. "If a guy hypothetically really liked you — like really, really liked you — what would he need to do?" You turn around to lean against the table, looking pensive.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "If he wanted to be with you, like, properly. Not just friends or whatever... What would he need to do to make you notice him? To make you...want him?" He asks, voice wavering slightly. There's a flutter in your chest as you stiffen slightly. Oh, God. Oh, fuck. Don't fumble this—

"Well, he'd have to be smart and kind and compassionate and have a good sense of humour." You press your lips into a thin line as you think. "He'd have to be...a little awkward and be kind of bad at dancing but great at literally everything else." You pause and he moves forward slightly.

"And...what else?" He asks and you turn your head to look at him. He looks so open and vulnerable but not in the way he was last night. This is open and honest and completely aware. Suddenly, it dawns on you; he wants this just as much as you do.

"He'd have to be a WSO, he'd have to wear the dorkiest glasses I've ever seen in my life and...he'd have to be called Bob Floyd." His breath catches. "And if he wanted me to notice him, to want him, he'd just have to be himself and I'd be all his." He just stares at you owlishly as if he's finally come to the same realisation that you did just a few seconds before. You reach out to brush a couple of stray hairs out of his face. When he doesn't pull away you turn to face him fully before leaning down to press your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

The second you kiss him, he's done. Finished. Over. His heart is completely yours and he never wants it back. Your lips are soft and warm, just like your smile, and he parts his lips slightly, inviting you to deepen the kiss. You take it; slowly inching your tongue into his mouth and tasting the bitterness of the coffee, moaning softly. God. You can't make that sound. His brain short-circuits. That one small, needy sound from you against his mouth has blood rushing south and he stands up, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer.

He lifts you onto the dining table and you loop your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Bobby..."

"Shh..." He whispers against your mouth, warm hands roaming your body, touching you like he's dreamed of doing a million times. He pulls back just long enough to take off his glasses and set them aside. Then he's kissing you again, deeper this time. It takes you by surprise. You never thought he could be this...passionate. You always figured, if you ever got this far, you'd be coaxing it out of him, bit by bit, encouraging him with little kisses and your fingers in his hair.

Instead, his hands are firm on your waist, tugging up your shirt just a little to feel the warmth and softness of your skin, as he kisses you like it's all he's ever wanted to do. It steals the breath from your lungs and it has confessions falling from your lips between deep, hungry kisses.

"You don't know...what last night...did to me..." You murmur breathlessly against his mouth and he groans, hands sliding under your shirt.

"Tell me." He's pushing your shirt up further and further, exposing more and more of your body to the golden sunlight gliding in through the open blinds.

"When you took off your shirt and...when you cam out of the shower and... And I saw so much of you... And I wanted all of it..." You manage. He's panting hard and you swear you can hear his heart hammering against his ribs.

"You wanted me?" He asks and you nod, running your hand down the centre of his chest, feeling the quick rise and fall of his breath.

"Mhmm... Once you fell asleep I had to... Had to come downstairs and...take care of myself..." You admit, heat rushing up your neck to spread across your cheeks. He stops for a moment before tugging your shirt off completely and sliding a hand into your hair, kissing you fiercely. You mirror the movement, clinging to him, as you kiss him back with a familiar hunger that roots itself between your legs.

He's losing his mind, control slipping. He steps between your legs, pressing closer, and you can feel him through his sweatpants. He feels perfect; pressing against your thigh desperately. "Bobby..." You move to whisper in his ear. "I need my mouth on you."

"Jesus." It comes out as a soft hiss. "You want to..."

"Please."

You— You don't have to..." He breathes but he's already reaching for the tie of his sweatpants. He wants you to. He wants you to want to.

You push him back gently so you can push off the table, guiding him back into his chair.

"I know I don't have to." You kneel on the worn linoleum between his feet, rubbing your hands along his thighs. He's straining desperately against the front of his sweatpants. "I want to." You tug at the tie of his sweatpants before curling your fingers into the waistband and tugging them down. He lifts his hips and you pull them down and off but, when you sit back to look at him—

Holy Mother of God.

"Wh-What...?" You just stare at him owlishly because, God, if that isn't the biggest cock you've ever seen in your life. Thick, throbbing, leaking... And you thought his body was slightly at odds with the personality of sweet, shy, wallflower Bob Floyd but this? This takes the cake.

"You never told me you had a..." You trail off, reaching up, struggling to wrap your fingers around the girth of the thing. It twitches, precum beading at the slit at even the slightest touch and rolling down the shaft.

"A what?" He asks hoarsely. He looks self-conscious but he has no reason to be. Your mouth waters as you feel him pulsing against your palm.

"Just...big..." Words fail you. His cheeks heat up and he swallows hard.

"You like it?" He asks tentatively and you nod slowly before rising higher on your knees.

"God, yes." No more words. You need to taste him.

You run the flat of your tongue from root to tip and a sharp intake of breath stutters in his throat.

"Ohh, my God..." His hands instinctively grab onto your hair but he doesn't pull, just resting there, as you lick along the underside of his shaft. When you reach the top, you swirl your tongue languidly around the head before taking it into your mouth. "Sh-Shit..." His head falls back against the chair with a soft thud.

He can't believe this is happening. He's jerked off a hundred times to the thought of you doing this but the reality is so much better; you, knelt between his legs, in his kitchen, sucking him off like you were born to do it.

You take more of him into your mouth, tentatively testing how much you can take. He groans lowly at the sensation of your tongue sliding along the underside, watching you with lidded eyes as his thick cock disappears between your lips. You press your head down until you feel the tip touch the back of your throat and you gag slightly before pulling away. You're panting, lips wet with saliva, and just watching you sends a shiver down his spine, toes curling against the lino. "Do that again... Please..." It's almost a beg and you can't deny him or yourself.

You lean back in, sliding down until it hits the back of your throat. Now you know how far you can take him, you cover the rest of his shaft with your hand, easing the slide with more spit as you work him over. His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, only to keep him tethered to the moment. He can feel every inch being worshipped by your greedy mouth and talented hands and his hips start to thrust upward involuntarily. "God, just like that..."

You fall into a steady rhythm, peering up at him through your lashes, and you feel another spurt of pre hit your tongue as he meets your gaze, completely mesmerised. It's almost embarrassingly clear how much you love having him in your mouth; his cock hot and thick and pulsing on your tongue. The wet sounds of your mouth and the sight of his cock sliding between your lips are driving him wild and he can feel that familiar feeling deep in his core. He gives your hair a gentle tug. "Hey..." You pull away, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Mhm?"

"I'm...getting real close." He warns you, his voice strained with effort. "If you don't want me to...finish in your mouth, you should probably stop now." Still, his hips are flexing, desperately trying to fuck your hand. You take a moment to decide before flicking your tongue over the head and his hands fly to curl around the seat of his chair, nails digging into the wood. "God...! I mean it... I'm...really close..." He gives you one last warning.

"Do it." You tell him, dragging your tongue along the cleft at the underside of the head, still stroking along his shaft, your fingers slick and shining with a mix of precum and saliva.

That's all it takes.

With a deep groan that rumbles from deep in his diaphragm, he cums hard, his hips jerking uncontrollably as his eyes roll. You lean back to watch with satisfaction as thick shots of white spurt from his cock, making your hand slicker as you stroke him through his climax. "That's it, Bobby." You encourage him softly as he unloads onto your hands and his stomach. He's panting heavily, his body shaking, as the last few shots of cum ooze down his shaft. Your gentle praise and the feeling of your spit-slick hand only intensify the pleasure.

When he opens his eyes, he sees your face pressed against his inner thigh as you gently squeeze the base of his cock, gazing up at him adoringly. He runs a shaky hand through your hair, still trying to blink away the white spots dancing in front of his eyes. "That was... Holy shit... I..." You smile and press a kiss to his hipbone, nuzzling his thigh, as he tries to find words in the jumbled mess of his orgasm-addled brain. "You... Bedroom... Yes, bedroom." He manages breathily and you nod, getting up from the floor and letting him tug on his sweatpants again before you eagerly pull him upstairs.

On the way up to his bedroom, you pull off your jeans and underwear before collapsing onto his bed with an excited giggle. Bob quickly joins you; pulling off his shirt and stained sweatpants, his body hovering over yours. You bite your lip, running your hands appreciatively over his body as you sit up slightly to kiss him, finding warm, firm muscle under your palms. He deepens the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue and exploring your mouth hungrily. But, before he can get too lost in the moment, he pulls back, heavy breaths making his chest heave.

"Wait—"

"Mhm...?" He looks sheepish.

"I don't do this often so I— I-I don't really have condoms?" Your heart melts. "Do you still want me to..."

"I still want you to." You glance down to find him already hard again, running a fingertip down his abdomen and watching his cock throb eagerly. "I trust you to pull out." You tell him and he nods quickly.

"I'll pull out." He tells you, kissing you again before leaning back on his toes. "I promise, I'll pull out."

Large hands find your thighs, lifting them until your toes touch the headboard, essentially folding you in half and leaving you completely exposed to him. "God, you're so perfect..." He whispers under his breath, holding you in place as he lines himself up, his cock sliding deliciously against your aching, swollen pussy. "Look at me. Look at me." He urges and you lay your head back against the pillows as he slowly pushes in. He feels absolutely massive but it's not painful; just this pleasant, warm ache that seeps through your body as you stretch around him. You grab onto his biceps for support as his fingers wrap around your ankles, holding your legs up. You're so tight around him, it's almost unbearable. He can feel every swell and curve of your inner walls squeezing around him. Your brows knit as he sinks in deeper, your fingers squeezing his arms.

"B-Bobby!"

"God, it's so good..." His eyes drift shut as he tosses his head back, starting to move slowly, deliberately rocking his hips against yours. The position is just perfect; hitting all the right spots all at once with every deep, purposeful stroke.

Strong fingers dig into your ankles as he slowly starts to pick up the pace. "You like this?" He asks, sweat beading on his brow as he looks down at you. You open your mouth to speak but all that comes out is a breathless whine. "Fuck, you're so tight..." He huffs through his nose as he targets that sweet spot inside you over and over, drawing these adorable, breathy whimpers from you. Your back arches, hands moving to claw at his broad shoulders.

"Please... Feel good... Feels so fucking good..." You pant out and he nods, his hips snapping forward. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he pounds into you, rutting against you desperately.

"I... I didn't know you'd be into..." He murmurs.

"Wh-What...?" "I didn't know you'd...like my... My dick so much..." He leans down, spreading your legs a little wider, as he kisses along your neck. His skin is warm and damp with sweat as he presses against you., his breath hot on your skin. You grin lopsidedly as tears of pleasure prick the corners of your eyes.

"I-I like them big..." You manage and that draws a low, near-animalistic sound from him as he drives into you with renewed vigour. The headboard bangs against the wall with each thrust.

"You like them big..." He repeats and you nod, whining as he hammers your sweet spot with pinpoint accuracy.

"Mmhmmm... I didn't...think you'd be so...big... O-Ohhh... It's so fucking good, Bobby..." You manage and he wraps your legs around his waist, coiling his arms under the small of your back, hugging you against him. His thrusts turn shallow but stay deep, your bodies pushed together from shoulder to hip. You hook your arms over his shoulders, nails raking red lines up his back.

Who would've thought that Bob Floyd — sweet, kind, nerdy, adorable Bobby Floyd — would fuck like an animal? You never expected it but, Christ, does it feel right.

You nuzzle his hair, breathing in the scent of him; yesterday's aftershave lingering on his skin, sweat breaking out all across his body. "Love having you like this..." You murmur in his ear and he nods.

"Mhmm... I love it too..." His thrusts grow slower but no less deep; each movement designed to draw out the pleasure, make it last. He stretches you out and fills you up perfectly, holding you through all of it, eagerly soaking up every moan, plea and whimper you give him. He's rubbing up against the deepest part of you now, the crown of his cock sliding perfectly against the swell of your cervix.

"B-Bobby... You can't...cum inside... You'll...knock me up..." You remind him and his arms tighten around you but he doesn't stop.

"I know... I'll pull out, promise..." But, even as he says it, he feels the heat mounting and he desperately wants to finish inside you. His hips keep rolling against yours in a deep, steady rhythm. You drag your nails across his shoulder blades, your body clenching down around him, throbbing around him rhythmically because, deep down, you'd love if he could cum inside you, leave his mark. But you can't take that risk.

He gives you a few more slow deep thrusts before pulling back to look at you. His hair is plastered to his forehead, face flushed. "Gonna pull out now, okay?" He pants out and you nod as he pulls out just in time, sandwiching his cock into the crook of your thigh and grinding against it until he cums, decorating your body with slick, white ribbons that ooze across your skin. You run your fingers through his hair as his orgasm hits, his arms clenching around you, hanging onto you for dear life.

Finally, his body goes slack. He's panting heavily, tilting his head up to claim your lips again in a soft, slow, lazy kiss. He rolls over onto his back, pulling you with him so you're lying on top of him. He's still semi-hard against your thigh but he's given you all he can for now so you sit up and sink back down onto him before curling up on top of him, enjoying the feeling of having his huge, softening cock nestled inside you. He lets out a low groan, gathering you up in his arms, fingers drawing idle patterns along the small of your back. "Gonna keep it in?" He asks softly and you look up at him.

"Is that okay?"

"More than okay." He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Makes me feel close to you... Comfortable?" You nod and rub your nose against his.

"Mhm. You?"

"Perfect."

A soft silence settles over the room, almost jarring after the slamming and slapping and moaning from just a few moments ago. But you aren't complaining.

You card your fingers through his sweat-damp hair, pushing it away from his face.

"You wanna talk about what just happened?" You laugh softly before sobering. "And where we go from here?"

"Mhm." He hums thoughtfully. "You mean like the 'was this a one-time thing' talk? Or the 'do you regret it' talk?" His thumbs rub the small of your back soothingly.

"Both." He takes a breath and you feel his chest rise beneath you.

"It wasn't just a one-time thing for me." He says softly, his eyes searching yours. "I don't do this kind of thing lightly, y'know? I wanted you and I still want you. But, if you're not on the same page, that okay too. We can still just be...friends, if you want." God, he's too sweet for his own good sometimes.

"And you don't regret it?"

"God, no." He answers, arms tightening around you possessively. "Best sex of my life. No regrets here." He lifts a hand to play with your hair nervously. "Can I be honest?" You nod and he sighs heavily. "I think about you a lot. More than I should. Like you're in my head, under my skin. And I... I want to do this again. With you. Only you." He swallows hard, finally meeting your eyes again. "So where does that leave us?"

"Like friends with benefits or...?" You trail off and he makes a noncommittal sound.

"I mean, we could do that." He says slowly. "But, if I'm being completely honest, I don't want it to be just that? Friends with benefits implies casual and what we just did? It didn't feel casual to me." You cup his face and run your thumb along his cheekbone. "I like you. A lot." He turns his head to press a kiss to your palm. "But if that scares you off, I understand." Without a word, you lean forward, licking your way into his mouth, kissing him slow and lazy. When you break apart, you're both breathless.

"Honey, I've been wanting to ask you out for months. I just didn't know where to start." You admit and his eyes widen.

"Really?" A huge grin spreads across his face. "Why didn't you?" He laughs softly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. You find yourself laughing with him.

"According to the rest of the squad, I've been dropping hints left, right and centre and not even subtle ones at that!"

"In my defence, I thought you were just being friendly." He replies and you laugh softly against his lips. "So... Can we date? Please say yes."

"I'd like that a lot."

"Thank God." His arms squeeze tight around you. "Should I take you out properly sometime? Coffee, dinner, all that stuff?" He traces your bottom lip with his thumb.

"It'd be nice, yeah." You reply and he gives you that sweet, beaming, boyish grin.

"Then it's a date. How about tomorrow night? We can grab some dinner and maybe catch a movie if you're up for it?" You nod and ruffle his hair lightly.

"That sounds perfect. But first..." You roll your hips against his, a gentle reminder that he's been inside you for the better half of ten minutes. "Can we do that again?" He wets his lips and rolls you back over onto your back, leaning down to press kisses to your neck.

"Mhm. As many times as you want."

Bob's call sign may be just 'Bob' but, in your head, it's 'Tripod'. Sweet, shy Bobby 'Tripod' Floyd.

TAGLIST: @ingoldthewizard @judeval @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @starwarskawaii

[harmonysanreads]

When they catch you dancing by yourself...

Phainon joins you right in, rather smoothly as well. As much as he'd like just ogling at how happy you looked in the moment, he cannot risk you seeing it as something embarrassing. Though nowhere near a practitioner, the Chrysos Heir does an impressive job at keeping your mind off of spiralling into overthinking by taking the lead. To top, he'll always pick you up and spin you around until laughter is coaxed out of your lips, mixed with the sounds of his own glee.

Mydei's usual habit is to knock before entering your room, as such, him walking in on you in a state of vulnerability is rare. But in the off-chance it does happen, he swears to Gorgo that he was equally as unprepared as you. If you're not too busy wishing that the ground would swallow you whole, take a look at the Prince ; petrified, flushed from head to toe and mind buffering — please remind him to breathe. He's just experienced falling in love a hundred times in a hundred different ways within a few seconds.

Anaxa is a master at this, in his own way. His instincts are quick enough to duck behind the nearest wall the moment his brain processes the scene, his movements are always muted enough for you to not notice. You'll never know of how fond he becomes of the music afterwards, how the memory alone is enough to make him smile even at death's door. It's debatable whether he'll ever slip up and give you the clue to realize that he's seen you dance to your heart's content many times. The scholar has no intention of ever interfering either, simply watching you twirl and smile revives him.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Hwang In-ho x gn Circle Guard! Reader

Why did it take 6 months until the Frontman gave 222's baby to his brother?

just a quick drabble from the top of my head, idk it's 2am leave me alone

"Take off your mask."

A shaky breath escapes your lips while doing as you were told, sweat still dripping from your forehead from earier labour.

Now that the games have ended and the protocol for erasing all evidence has been completed, you assumed it was about time for the usual: One last, passionate moment spent together before you and your superior would part ways for yet another year.

Almost automatically, you fondle with the zipper of your suit, about to present yourself for him like so many times before.

"No" he stops you immediately, raising his hand in a rather appeasing than commanding manner. "Don't."

Before you could even react, the man turned around, fondling with a piece of furniture you didn't recognize despite being invited to his quarters on the regulary.

And then, out of the black box no one would assume was a bassinet, he took the last thing you'd expect to see ever again.

"Is that-"

"Yes, it is" he answers the obvious, beckoning you over while cradling the newborn in his arms with a tenderness you weren't aware he was capable of.

For a while the two of you would remain like this, standing besides each other as you undeservingly watched in awe of this peaceful innocence born in the midst of sin and despair.

In-ho observes intently how your eyes light up when the baby's little fingers wrap around yours, feeling the corners of his mouth etch into a smile he had long since forsaken.

Many questions were burning on your tongue, most of them concerning the child's future, but also about the Frontman himself that remained an enigma to you even after all those years. Because as intimate as your relationship was, it was also strictly physical, and in all other aspects he prefered to keep a 'professional' distance.

"Did you ever want to have children?"

You blink up at him like a deer in the headlights, unsure whether it was a trick question. After all, he was never interested in your thoughts, or feelings in particular.

"I heard you volunteered to feed her" he inquires further, gently wrapping a blanket around the baby after placing it back into the bed.

Sure, you weren't opposed to the idea itself, but with the circumstances your life had developed, you never truly allowed yourself to even consider it.

"I'm a murderer" you state matter-of-factly, facing downwards in a mixture of shame and bewilderment. "I shouldn't involve myself with anyone."

"Same goes for me" he retorts in his usual callous tone, standing so close that the back of your hand barely touches his. "But I was told to deal with the baby as I see fit."

"So...have you decided yet what to do with it?"

The Frontman's features always seemed as much of a mask as the angular black shapes of his attire, although right now a hint of melancholy slipped right through. "I...have someone in mind. But not yet, not while it's still so dependent."

Before you could even think of a possible answer to continue the conversation, you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, eyes still locked on the baby stirring contently in it's sleep.

"You still live alone, right?" You nod. It's not a question, it's a fact. He knows even the most trivial details about your life outside of this job, and unbeknownst to you he's way more involved than he should be.

In-ho remains silent, chooses not to reveal what's going on in the inside, about how the current games reopened old wounds and got him to question simply everything.

"Just a few months" he squeezes your hand ever so slightly, gaze darting between you and the newborn with a fondness that almost startled you. "I need to settle some other things, so...I could use some help caring for the child."

It sounds like he tries to convince only himself, for the power imbalance between you two made that proposition more order than offer anyways.

Still, here was method to his madness, well aware that you both would inevitably taint this symbol of hope shall you get too attached for too long.

In-ho leans to your height, planting a lingering hiss to your temple before resting his forehead against yours. You crack a meek smile, since this brief imitation of normalcry was the first thing worth looking forwards to in an eternity.

"Alright, then let's...try to enjoy this while it lasts."

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

I Don't Care!: Pomfiore

Heartslabyul - Savanaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Ignihyde - Diasomnia

Romantic Jealousy: Based on real or imagined threats to a romantic relationship. There could be a history of infidelity or flirtations; however, this could also be solely based on insecurities. Sexual/Suspicious Jealousy: Based on fears that a partner may have cheated or be engaged in inappropriate communication.

Does he get jealous?

Vil Schoenheit

Vil was aware that he had a jealous streak. Not that he would ever take it out on you. But he can't help his clinginess when Leona comes into the picture...

The two of you were sitting on the bleachers in the MagiShift stadium. You were the teams manager (through force and begging for you to help) so you came to watch them practice. Your job was mainly to keep track of everyone's time and keep score with Coach Vargas. Vil had no problem with the way you spent your time. You could do what you wanted when you wanted.

The problem he had was with who was consuming said time. You mentioned in passing how Leona 'wasn't that bad' and Vil couldn't bury the annoyance he felt. So he decided to join you today. Vil admired his glossy nails silently. Fingers outstretched before he sighed and glanced over at you. He watched as you clicked on a little stop watch, writing on a notepad numbers and names.

You were diligent with your task. Something he loved about you. A smile crossed his lips and he lifted his head. His eyes met Leona's, and he frowned. The beastman was standing on his broom. Arms crossed over his chest as some of the others raced back and forth chasing the heavy disc. They held eye contact before Leona clicked his tongue and went back to join his team.

"A tall child. How could I expect less." Vil grumbled to himself and moved closer to you. Watching the team circle around before returning you to his center of focus. "Oh my little sweet potato, after this why don't we go out?" He suggested as he pressed his lips against your temple.

A warmth filled your face as he continued to press kisses along the side of your face. "I'm not busy today. Why don't we have dinner tonight?" Vil suggested as he continued. You weren't sure what made him so affectionate. But you didn't mind it at all. You agreed with a smile, excited to leave your duties as the MagiShift manager for the day.

Rook Hunt

Rook has no reason to be jealous. He loves you with his entire being. But Azul does have a way with words...

"It is such a pleasure that you could join us." Azul cooed sweetly as he clasped his hands together. His eyes lingering on Rook. You sat at a small table with Azul, Idia, and Rook; your boyfriend. You had invited him to the Board Game club for a game of Old Maid. "Surely you will be bored joining us today... I know you would rather-"

"Non. I came on request." Rook shook his head, cutting off Azul as he motioned to you beside him. A smile on his face as Idia dealt the cards. Rook had been feeling uneasy ever since you joined the club. He was happy that you found a club that fit you the best. He liked Roi de Chambre. He usually liked Roi de Fort. There was a level of hostility in the air. Rook knew it was because he joined todays club session.

Azul must be fond of you. Rook could understand it, there was a reason why he quickly took you into his arms when he found the opportunity. The game of Old Maid was quiet. With just a glance, Rook could see that you had the Joker card in your dwindling deck. He didn't mind losing for you. "Let's see..." Azul hummed and his hand outstretched, reaching toward your hand. Rook's lips twitched into a frown when the merman's fingers brushed yours.

He took the Joker from your hand. Almost like he knew it was there. Rook worried that he was thinking about the situation too hard. The game was starting to feel strangely competitive. But not between the four of you. Just between him and Azul. He didn't want to get upset over a game. He didn't want to get upset over you having friends in your club. But Rook isn't stupid. And neither is Azul.

You smiled and continued with your turn, choosing to take a card from Idia who smiled to himself with a snicker, he was getting down to his last few cards as well. Rook didn't think he was capable of pettiness. At least he hoped he wasn't. But something in his brain screamed for him to play Azul's game. Something needed him to prove a point. And with that same calm smile, he reached towards Azul, and stole back the Joker card. "Très bien." He chuckled to himself as he quickly shuffled his cards around.

Epel Felmier

Epel already has his own insecurities. And that seems to become more apparent when Sebek opens his big mouth...

It was time for PE. Epel stood on the grassy field with his broom in hand. The sun was beating down and he had pulled his mop of lavender colored hair into a tiny ponytail. You were in the front, trying to steady yourself on your broom with Grim as the pilot. Sebek was right next to Epel, watching silently with a frown.

"The human is struggling..." He grumbled under his breath. Epel's eyebrow twitched. "They're fine." Epel didn't expect his tone to be so short. Maybe it was standing under the hot sun that was making him irritable. "You don't practice together?" Sebek asked softly and looked down at Epel, who gripped his broom much tighter. "I can tell. No need to explain yourself." Sebek grunted as Epel started to clench his jaw tight. The muscles straining in his face. Epel and Sebek didn't have many conversations unless you were the topic.

And you and Epel haven't told your friend group that the two of you began dating. It's only been a month. "I ain't ask for any opinions." He growled as the wood groaned under the grip of his palm. Before Sebek could retaliate, there was the sound of you and Grim yelping and a hard thud against the ground.

The students began to crowd around you as Coach Vargas blew his whistle. Waving everyone back to give you some space as Epel made his way to the front. Sebek was right behind him. You were holding onto your ankle. Grim's little paws were patting your shoulder as he fussed and told you it would be okay. "I'll take 'em to the nurse!" Epel offered quickly and Sebek clicked his tongue. "I don't think you can handle-"

"No one asked you!" Epel snapped as he kneeled next to you, lashing out at Sebek as the rest of the students either became silent or started to snicker. You looked shocked at the short outburst. A squeak passed your lips as Epel suddenly lifted you in his arms. Holding you with a small huff with no visible issue as he carried you all the way from the grassy field and to the nurses office. Grinding his teeth as he tried to let go of Sebeks mini commentary Epel never asked for.

[cuteandhughesy]

I’m Talking Nonsense╰┈➤ MR96

summary: everyone in the avalanche social media room knows that getting mikko rantanen to participate in content was a lost cause—that is until you showed up.

[word count] 4.3k

warnings: MATURE! flirting | lil bit of pining | mature themes | lil hot and heavy kissing | allusions to sex but no actual smut | read at your own discretion

a/n: okay…so obviously I started writing this before the trade—because nobody in their right mind was expecting mikko to get traded. but I digress, anyways! I originally wanted to post this on valentine’s day but in this moment of sadness, I knew all the mikko girls (myself included) needed this pick me up ❤️ to all you liking my old mikko fic—I see yall and we got this.

🎵 nonsense by sabrina carpenter

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

mikko rantanen didn't hate social media — actually, no he did hate it. the finnish native always knew it to be invasive and impersonal, and he'd rather not have to look at fake happy, posed pictures and videos that make his life feel less than. and that's coming for a guy living as a professional athlete.

so when tiktok started gaining more traction and other nhl teams were making accounts for their respective teams—mikko was dreading it. he thought there was a level of privacy that should be respected, and having a camera shoved in your face is totally breaching boundaries. the thought of the avalanche making an account was just not something he wanted.

after a shitty practice—hell even a good practice—the last thing he wanted was to be asked if he thought he could land a plane, or if he believes in aliens...mikko just wanted to go home.

and mikko understands that the social admin was simply doing their jobs, but he couldn't help but fill with irritation anytime they'd approach him with the phone and mini-microphone and/or question cup. it was the quickest way to piss him off.

it didn't help that the avalanche fans were always in the comments asking about his noticeable absence. they wanted to see more of their assistant captain outside of gruelling post-game interviews and game highlights—they wanted the real and fun side of mikko they very rarely had the chance of seeing.

but that didn't change mikko's opinion of social media—he'd avoid the admin team at any costs, especially when he saw that stupid tiktok phone and various props he knew he'd hate to use.

that is, until you showed up.

the first time mikko saw you—standing behind the usual admin suspects with a nervous gaze and fiddling hands—he didn't think much of it. sure, you were pretty, but mikko thinks a lot of girls are pretty.

but then as the months past and your surprisingly warm and bubbly personality began peeking through your hard exterior shell, mikko begin feeling intrigued. you are always smiling, even if someone is giving you a hard time—when he is giving you a hard time—and you're constantly trying to bond with the players. you remember who these athletes are at their core—human, which a lot of people in your job description seem to forget.

the team quickly grew fond of you, and when they saw it was you in the hallway with a cup of questions, or in their locker room with that stupid tiny microphone—the energy would shift. that's just how you are though—vibrant and welcoming, and the guys feed off that energy and turn into a fun group of giddy boys.

even nathan mackinnon, who was almost as turned off by social media as mikko, enjoyed your company, doing silly things for tiktok's he'd never even dreamed of.

it had mikko's own exterior beginning to crack. before he'd be more apprehensive to the idea of participating in social media trends he had no clue about, but you and your grin had him changing.

—

lina, your co-worker looks at you over the top of her laptop, analyzing your soft face as you work on your own computer—editing a tiktok that needed to go up today. you're left with very minimal time, as the avalanche practice finishes in 5 minutes. which means in 15 you both have to head down for some more content.

it's the third time in the past minute lina as looked at you—you can feel her eyes burning through the middle of your forehead. slowly, your eyes trial up and meet hers, a questioning pull to your furrowed eyebrows. "you okay?"

she huffs—not in annoyance or impatience, but rather curiosity. lina flicks her red hair over her shoulder, and then crosses her arms—her gaze never leaving yours. "i'm trying to figure out how you do it."

you're even more confused now. "do what?"

lina snorts like it's obvious. "you've been here five months, y/n. it's been five months of watching you work with the guys and more specifically, getting mikko to work with you."

your lips contort into a confused pout—any more confusion and your head will begin to pound. you're not sure what lina is trying to imply, because as far as you know all the guys on the avs are extremely good with you and have never given you a hard time—that's just how they are...right?

"mikko is great." you hum dismissively, your fingers resuming their place on your keyboard as you continue the code in your side bar to enable the audio change in the clip—attempting to remove ross' loud voice from the background so you can better hear cale's answer.

"that's the thing," lina starts, eyes full of amusement as she leans over the table. "he's really not."

you pause. "what?"

"before you showed up, mikko was always turning a blind eye to me and nick. if we even attempted to talk to him the way you do—well, it never ended how we wanted it to." her face contorts as if she's reliving it.

one of your brows raise in question. "did he like...sentence you to a guillotine or something?"

lina disapproves of your humorous tone, sending you daggers across the meeting room table. she shuts her laptop, resting her elbow atop the logo as she puts her chin in her palm. "ha ha."

satisfied with her pointed response, you get back to work. but, lina isn't done. "he hates this kind of stuff."

"no he doesn't," you retort quickly. "mikko seems happy when I have questions for him. in fact, yesterday he came over to me and asked for one—said something about how they 'make his day bright'" you mimic mikko's deep accent to the best of your abilities, but you sound more like a drowning troll rather than the 6"4 winger.

lina's eyes widen comically—she can't believe what's she's hearing. "anytime I even point the phone in his direction he scowls and walks away. so what are you doing to get him to cooperate?" she eyes you quizzically for a moment before a devious lightbulb goes off in her head, expression morphing into a playful, teasing one. "are you fucking him?"

you squeak, and your cheeks heat up to an undeniable level of embarrassment. "no!" and it's true—of course you're not sleeping with mikko.

she raises her hands in surrender, but her smile doesn't let up. "I wouldn't blame you if you were, y/n. he's hot—like stupid hot."

"okay," you huff, covering your burning cheeks with your hands. "maybe you should sleep with him then."

lina snorts. "trust me—if I could get near him I would."

"you know," you start, "I really don't think what you're saying is true. maybe mikko didn't like it in the past, but I think he's changed his option on the social media stuff."

she raises her brow—almost challengingly. "think so?"

"yup." you hum.

"let's test it, then." lina chimes. "today i'll go up to mikko first, and ill do exactly what you would do when approaching him. and when he sends me away—which he will—then you'll go up to him, and we'll see what happens."

it's tempting—mostly because you're certain there won't be a difference in the way mikko acts towards you then he does lina. sure, mikko isn't always the most sunshine and rainbows when it comes to his personality, but he's always been compliant with you.

so although he's broody and definitely not in love with the idea of having a camera in his face—you're sure he's not going to turn lina away.

"you're on."

it's not 5 minutes later you're both packing up your respective things, preparing to make your way down to the locker room where the guys are surly anticipating your and lina's arrival.

the room is bustling with people—half dressed hockey players and pressing reporters fill the locker room, which creates a slightly hectic environment—but you're used to it by now. so neither of you seem suspicious, you ask a few of the other avs players your selected questions for the day. questions you and lina had argued about for the entire morning—she thought most of them were stupid, you thought they were was hilarious.

plus, the reporters are still swarmed around mikko's stall—the finnish native standing in the middle with a deadpanned look on his face, barley listening to them as they ask the same repetitive questions as usual.

you and lina get some good content from ross colton and josh manson, both players giving you ridiculous and enthusiastic responses to the absurd questions you'd earlier shoved in the alumni silver cup.

lina's mischievous look is back as the sea of middle aged reporters move onto their next victim—cale makar—leaving mikko by his lonesome. "i'll be back." before you can react, she plucks the phone out of your hands, effortlessly making her way through the room until she's in front of mikko.

you strain your ears, but it's no use as the chatter in the locker room is too overpowering, and you're unable to hear lina or mikko. miles wood gives you an odd look—eyeing the way you stand ridged beside his stall, gnawing your thumb as you watch lina talk to the blonde winger—but you don’t notice.

it's only a moment before lina turns around, her grin even wider than it was before as she makes her way back towards you. "your turn." she chimes, thrusting the phone back in your palms.

"what happened?" you question.

lina raises one her brows, pushing you in the direction of mikko's stall. "he didn't want to answer anymore questions."

"okay," you draw. "so maybe I shouldn't go over there."

lina continues guiding you in his general direction. "no it's actually exactly why you should go over there."

you don't get to argue any further as you're suddenly right in front of mikko—almost too close, and if you take another step towards him you're thighs will bump his knees.

speaking of thighs—mikko's are on full display. the huge, muscle carved limbs spread wide as he manspreads in his stall. the expanse of smooth, hard skin making you feel flustered and suddenly intrigued. your eyes flicker upwards, finding the icy blue ones of mikko looking back at you.

you swallow, a heat rising to your cheeks. "hi, mikko."

"hi, y/n." he says your name playfully, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. "you okay?"

you nod too quickly and immediately curse yourself for acting so uncool. you've never been this nervous around any of the avs, especially not mikko, but lina's comments about his looks earlier are lingering in your mind—leaving you flustered.

because obviously you are aware mikko is hot, but now you can't help but be really aware of the fact. damn lina.

"yeah," you clear your throat, clutching the cellphone tightly in your hand. "I was actually just wondering if you'd answer a question for tiktok? for me? promise it'll be quick."

his eyes flicker over your warm, hopeful face, and after a beat he sighs gently, a quick nod following. "yeah I can do that for you."

you can't help the way your eyes widen at his agreement. mikko seems oblivious to your shocked state, removing his remaining elbow pad and tossing it towards the back of his messy stall.

you catch a whiff of his intoxicating scent, and even with the sweat lingering across his forehead and soaking his branded undershirt, mikko smells so good. he's always been enveloped in a cloud of clean laundry and something slightly woodsy, and even though you're extremely professional, it never fails to make you falter.

you clear your throat and your head. "really?"

mikko runs the damp towel previously hung around his neck through his messy curls, making the appearance of them even more fluffy and soft. his eyes twinkle with amusement, a matching half smile blossoming on his lips. "yeah, really. why do you sound shocked?"

you make a tiny noise of confusion in the back of your throat, shooting a glance to lina over your shoulder. she sends you a triumphant look, brow raised like she knew that she was right.

she is right.

you look back at mikko quickly, "I just thought..." you trail off, brows pulling tightly as you think about the excuse he gave to lina—you're so confused. you've never noticed before if mikko had a certain favouritism towards you over lina, or even nick. I mean, you never paid attention to anything like that—but now you feel like you should be more aware, because this doesn't make sense.

"you thought..?" mikko raises one eyebrow, waiting for the second half of your sentence.

"nothing." you blink quickly, adjusting the phone in your hand. "sorry, let's just get to it."

you're still in some sort of shock for the rest of the day—the pieces of the puzzle in your mind loose and turned upside down as you try and understand mikko's dismissal of lina, or better yet, his compliance with you.

it had you further trying to solve the mystery. does mikko just prefer you? does he like your voice over your co-workers? maybe you smell like his favourite desert? does he like you? does mikko want to fuck you?

you're not sure where to pinpoint the source, but you're also determined to find the answer. with some help for lina, and even a little input from nick, you conjure up a plan—which lina finds the upmost entertainment in.

but you mean nothing but business. for the next few weeks it's only you who works with mikko rantanen—it's you asking him questions and having him participate in stupid games. and without fail, every single time you ask him, mikko complies.

so you get crazier with it. whether it's a questions about my little pony—a show mikko has never even heard of—or having him lift you onto his shoulder while a sabrina carpenter song plays through the tiktok recording—he is participating without complaining.

every. single. time.

it has your good friends, but ever so annoying colleagues theorizing.

"maybe he's got a thing for girls with her hair colour? can't resist them." nick chimes, sipping some piping hot coffee from an avalanche branded mug.

you roll your eyes, pulling open the microwave to grab your shitty frozen meal.

lina's laugh echos through the staff room, "mhmm...or maybe her eye colour." she sends you a teasing look before slurping some saucy noddles up into her mouth.

before you can respond nick pipes up again, "he definitely wants in her pants."

you take a seat beside lina—across from your male coworker—and send them both a slightly amused, but deadpanned look. "are you guys done?"

despite your attitude towards them, you can't help but wonder if their theories are correct. sure, mikko seems sweet enough—towards you anyways—but with the way you're barley pushing him into participating in stupid little tiktok's, has you pondering. mikko is nice...but not that nice.

is he just trying to get into your pants? and then forgot about you? the thought has you feeling angry, because you're not just some girl who he can treat nicely until he gets what he wants—absolutely not. and you're not going to let him treat you like a fool, just because he wants his dick wet.

the following day you’re determined to get answers and put your mind at ease. you like mikko—he’s a great guy—but you don’t want to feel like you’re being used. there was a team meeting and breakfast today, without the pressure of practice or a game—essentially an off day for the guys.

as the chaos of the dining room begins clearing out, only a few lingering athletes and staff members at some of the tables, you make your way across the room with a determined step, looking for mikko.

you catch the broad expanse of his back and blonde hair sticking out from underneath his beanie just as he slips out the door. you grumble to yourself, speeding up in hopes to catch him before he leaves the facility.

pushing open the rather heavy door to the hallway, you’re immediately greeted by his familiar laugh and gabe landeskogs smooth voice—spewing some dad joke that only mikko would find funny.

before you can sike yourself out, you march up to the two european teammates. “rantanen, I need to talk to you.”

they pause in their slow steps, conversation halting abruptly as both men turn to look at you. the sight of your hard expression and pointed gaze has mikko swallowing roughly, eyeing you with confusion.

gabe snickers quietly, the sound missing your ears, and pats mikko’s shoulder sympathetically. “last name, huh? good luck.” with that the avalanche captain stalks off, disappearing down the quiet hallway.

you cross your arms defensively, looking up—way up—at him, tone rough and determined. “are you trying to fuck me or something?”

“whoa whoa, just hold on a second.” mikko’s eyes widen, looking around the hallways quickly to ensure you were alone. even though he doesn’t see any physical bodies, mikko can’t be too sure—especially when he can sense the conversation is going in a direction that doesn’t need to be overheard.

he gently takes ahold of your wrist, guiding you towards the open meeting room directly across from the kitchen. the censor lights flicker alive as you step into the empty, quiet room—illuminating the once dark space.

mikko lets go of your arm, shutting the door with a soft click before turning back to you. he analyzes your face, eyes flickering over your still pointed eyes and the angry pull to your mouth. confused, he steps towards you. “are you joking with me?”

you raise your brows. “do I look like i'm joking with you, mikko?”

he shakes his head gently, like he’s trying to come up with a reason for your sudden coldness—you’ve never acted this way around him, and seeing you so irritated is rather strange. “why are you asking me that?”

he’s referring to the first question you’d asked him—rather angrily may he add. mikko is unsure what brought on the rather sexual outburst of a question, only because it’s so unlike you. in fact, one time ross colton tried to make a sexual innuendo with you, and you just about turned the colour of a ripe apple.

mikko thinks he must’ve done something—or said something to make you not only think like that, but ask him about—without so much as a blush on your face. you were serious.

you cross your arms again, defensive walls still built high. clearing your throat, you look away from mikko and towards the navy blue patterned rug covering the floor. “ why are you so nice to me?”

you practically whisper, timidly running your foot along the worn out carpet.

mikko blinks. “what?” he’s even more confused now—because why wouldn’t he be nice to you. you’re sweet, and respectful, and funny, and beautiful, and you’re you.

you meet his eyes again, expect this time there’s more emotion swimming in them, and you’re slowly coming down of your flurry of anger—left with fear and your own confusion. “like..,” you start unsure, “you only do the media stuff when i'm the one asking you to. are you only being nice to me so that like, you'll get in my pants?”

you’re right, he thinks. he only does media when you ask, but it’s not because he suddenly wants to if you’re the one asking, it’s because he can’t say no to you. mikko never wants to see you sad—he never wants to see the current look on your face when he can help it.

mikko shakes his head, slow and steady. “no. that's not why i'm nice to you.”

“no?” you parrot, the tiniest hint of disbelief in your tone.

“no.” mikko repeats firmly. “i'm nice to you because I like you.”

“like as a friend?” you gulp, arms falling to your sides as you’re no longer strong enough to hold them around yourself.

mikko doesn’t see the point of hiding his true feelings any longer. the thought of you thinking he had ulterior motives with his kindness literally makes his stomach hurt, and he can’t have you believing he’s trying to use you for his own benefit.

so with a gentle sigh, he takes another step closer to you, eyes softening as he takes in your hesitant gaze and red cheeks. “more than a friend.” mikko admits gently.

your face falls, “oh.” you’re in some sort of shock, looking up at the winger with parted lips and wide eyes. the way mikko is looking at you, so raw and real, has any lingering hesitance falling away, and your expression quickly shifts.

“yeah, oh.” the corner of mikko’s plump lip slides upwards, the beginning stages of a lopsided smirk growing on his flushing face.

he reaches towards you, slowly, hands enveloping the sides of your head as he holds you in his palms. mikko’s hands are so warm and big, completely covering your cheeks and ears—the feeling itself has you turned on.

your breath hitches as mikko’s rough thumbs begin running over your cheekbones, stroking your warm skin absentmindedly.

his tongue licks along his bottom lip, moistening the skin slowly. mikko swallows gently, not once taking his gaze off your flustered face. “but like, just so there’s no confusion, I would eat you out on the table until you’re crying if that’s what you wanted.”

you inhale sharply, stomach dropping with excitement and adrenaline. your body flutters at his words, “mikko.” you whine in a whisper, hands reaching out and resting against his hard pecks. you have no control of your hands, the need to feel him under your palms too strong. you begin running over his covered chest, his muscles tightening and nipples hardening under your deliberate touches.

mikko huffs shakily before he comes down, kissing you with as much passion he can manage. his lips are surprisingly soft and smooth, enclosing and teasing yours in a messy, hard way. the feeling has your stomach swooping further, toes curling in your shoes as the kiss grows harder—needier.

suddenly, mikko’s hands run down your body, passing over your ass with a firm squeeze. you moan into his mouth as his hands find the backs of your thighs, picking you up.

you gasp as he lifts you effortlessly, sitting you on the table like it’s nothing—mikko smirks at the sound you make, and he can’t help the way his dick twitches in his pants. his wet lips trail off your mouth, travelling over your jaw and down your neck where he continues giving you hot, and hurried kisses.

reluctantly, your eyes flutter open, running a hand under mikko’s beanie, gripping the base of his hair between your trembling fingers. “we can get in a lot of trouble for this.” you breathe.

despite your words, your hips rolls against his hardening length, your cores at the perfect angle with you sitting on the table to grinding together deliciously.

mikko pulls back, eyes glazed with lust as he grins. “I know. so we'll just have to be sneaky.” his words are husky, sending your blood pumping and head swirling with need.

he leans back in, giving you another eye rolling kiss. you push his hat off his head completely, giving yourself free reign of his messy curls, tugging the blonde strands as your heart desires.

mikko pulls you closer on the tabletop, further bumping your clothed heat against his. his large hands slide underneath the back of your top, running over your spine and fiddling with the edge of your lacy bralette.

you sigh trembly, disconnecting the kiss. “i'll have to stop asking you questions though. because now I really won't be able to control myself around you.”

the admission has mikko smirking, biting his lip seductively. one of his hands round to your front, groping your tit over your bra. “I turn you on baby?” he already knew the answer to his question—your hardened nipples and shifting hips giving him all the information he needs.

you laugh through a breathless exhale, and you gently hit his shoulder. “be serious. you'll have to tolerate lina, and start saying yes when she asks you to do things.”

“no promises.” he chimes playfully, hands running back down your torso—leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you give him a soft, serene smile, which as mikko following suit—looking at you the way he always has. “I really like you, mikko.” you admit gently, one of your hands running over his building bicep before sliding around to rest on his shoulder blade.

for a moment, his smile remains admirable, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that has ever mattered. mikko has been dreaming of the day you say those words, and actually hearing you speak them is just otherworldly.

but because he’s a boy, and you’re his dream girl with his spit coating your plump lips—he can’t help himself. mikko’s hand rounds to your front, dipping underneath the waistband of your leggings and sliding over your underwear. he thumbs your clit over the thin material, and your mouth goes slack at his touch.

he breathes, smirking at the feeling of your arousal soaking through your panties. “yeah I can tell.”

“shut up.” you huff, pulling him back in to continue your desperate kiss.

[cokoakeostuff]

Character List. Hero's paradox

Hi! this post it's gonna be kind of a guide of the 12 Links that make up the story I'll be editing this as I finish all their respective drawings. I won't be specifying their ages but rather an approximate.

> You can read the plot here

> Heights chart

Adventures: Skyward sword

Age: 20-24 [Young adult]

Now living peacefully with Zelda on the surface, he has found a quiet joy in life.

His days are spent helping Zelda, playing music, or woodcarving

Although the Master Sword is no longer in his possession, he often visits Fi’s resting place, even though he never receives an answer.

Adventures: Minish Cap

Age: 11-12 [Kid]

After sealing Vaati, he no longer wields the Four Sword

Don’t let his youth or small stature fool you—underestimating him would be a mistake.

Kind-hearted, honest, and sweet, he never hesitates to lend a helping hand to those in need.

He is the youngest (and shortest)

Adventures: Ocarina of time & Majora's Mask

Age: 20-22 [Young adult]

After saving Hyrule and Termina, he now lives as a traveler, and helps out at Lon Lon Ranch.

Despite everything he has faced, he has never given up on his search for Navi.

He is considering joining the Royal Guard,

He doesn’t fully understand it yet, but he has a small crush on Malon, his childhood friend.

Adventures: Wind Waker & Phantom of hourglass

Age: 13-14 [Teen]

He spends much of his time exploring new places with Tetra and always returns with gifts for his little sister.

The most expressive and talkative of them all.

He enjoys joining in whenever the others play music.

Adventures: Spirit Tracks

Age: 13-14 [Teen]

He is physically very similar to the Hero of Winds.

As soon as New Hyrule was safe, he was finally able to continue with his passion: trains.

• He tends to be very forgetful and a bit distracted. His constant fatigue from his job doesn’t help, but despite that, he genuinely enjoys it.

Adventures: Twilight Princess

Aliases: Blue-Eyed Beast, Hero of Twilight Age: 19-22 [Young adult]

He misses Midna deeply, more than anything else.

After his adventures, he returned to Ordon, where his heart belongs, taking care of animals and watching over his friends.

He carries a sword at all times—just in case.

Adventures: Four swords/adventures (Merged)

Age: 12 - 13 [Teen]

He’s the one who most recently finished his adventure; he was on his way to return the Four Sword to its pedestal but ended up with the others before he could do so.

The son of a knight, he was a soldier-in-training before setting out on his quest to defeat Vaati.

The Four Sword has had some mysterious side effects on him...

Adventures: A link to the past, Oracle of seasons and ages & Link's awakening

Age: 17-19 [Teen]

He’s often seen wearing a flower—not because he’s particularly fond of them, but because they remind him of Marin.

After his journey to Koholint Island, he finally took a break from seeking adventures; he needed time to process everything he had been through.

He spends his days tending to his collection of artifacts.

Adventures: Link between worlds, & Tri force Heroes

Age: [Teen]

He shares Wild’s love for clothing and owns a dozen (ridiculous) outfits for every occasion.

He keeps the bracelet Ravio gave him as a precious possession; in the end, he learned to appreciate the cowardly, greedy rabbit.

He’s lively and has a peculiar sense of humor. Out of everyone, he’s the one who’s adapted best to teamwork.

Adventures: Zelda I & Zelda II

Age: 16-18 [Teen]

He struggles to let his guard down and relax, a result of living in a hostile Hyrule and constantly facing threats to his life.

He usually prefers to rely on magic and spells but won’t hesitate to prove he is a formidable swordsman.

It’s not something he’ll say out loud, but for him, turning into a fairy is probably the most fun thing to do.

Adventures: Hyrule Warriors

Age: 20-23 [Young Adult]

Out of the entire group, he’s probably the one who best understands the situation they’re going through—it feels oddly familiar to him.

He once let reckless overconfidence and ego almost kill him once, so he’s determined not to let that happen again. He might come off as arrogant at first, but it’s nothing more than a joke; in serious moments, he’s sensible and deeply cares for everyone.

He currently dedicates his life to his military career.

Adventures: Breath of the wild & Tears of the kingdom

Aliases: Hylian Champion, Champion of Hyrule, Hero. Age: 20-23 [Young adult]

By the age of four, he was already a prodigious swordsman, capable of besting fully trained knights.

He silently loved Mipha, seeing in her a kind soul who loved him for who he was as a person, not for the hero he was destined to be. Sadly, they never had the chance to confess their feelings to each other.

He became far more talkative and expressive after his awakening. Though he still carries the guilt of his fallen friends and kingdom, he no longer feels the crushing weight of the world’s expectations pressing down on him.

———— thanks for reading!

[st4rbwrry]

𝒩𝒪𝒪𝒦𝐼𝐸.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: suguru isn’t fond of the new gardener you hired who’s clearly flirting with you when he’s not home.

warnings ౨ৎ 2.7k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, cunninglingus/face riding, cottage core au? + suguru’s a farmer, missionary in da kitchen, praising ofc, exhibitionism, jealousy, possessiveness, suguru’s kinda rude, sub / dom dynamic, established relationship, rough play, m oral, impact play, unprotected, pet names ex. [ baby, sweetheart ], minors aren’t welcomed! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

suguru doesn’t appreciate that you aren’t greeting him with his usual kisses after you raise on your tippy toes to smooch him after he comes home from a long day of churning butter and tending to livestock. it doesn’t make him happy to know that you’re not tending to his attention and rather giving it to another man after he strolls through your large kitchen, that he built for you, to head into the back of your farmhouse to find you giggling and conversing with the new gardener. a gardener that you personally hired that he had yet to meet.

he could smell the pan of shepherd’s pie and cornbread in the oven, ignoring the way his stomach growls hungrily and it quickly being consumed with irritation. you’re wearing your cute pink apron with tiny patterns of sunflowers and bunnies as you hold a woven basket of freshly picked strawberries the man before you tossed into. having a conversation about fucking strawberries. he didn’t expect this man to be. . . of your type. tall, nice smile, good hair, makes you laugh a little too fucking hard. what about fruits could possibly be so fucking funny, [♡]?

“what a surprise,” suguru’s voice is laced with annoyance, deep and causing the two to go silent as he makes his way down the steps to stand directly next to you. you blink, knowing your husband very well and easily you could tell he’s off.

“hi, baby! this is matteo, he’s our new gardener! we were talking a lot about the new setup i plan on having!” the smile on your face is pure, looking back and forth between suguru and your gardener. “he just started today.”

“hey, man. nice to meet you. your wife told me all about you,” matteo remains professional, extending his hand for a handshake. you roll your lips in, waiting for your husband to comply with respect. it’s silent as you stare between both men, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise from anxiousness.

“mhm,” is all suguru can say, matteo taken aback by his approach. it’s extremely rude, and you blink excessively to keep your composure. taking a deep breath, you form a tight lipped smile towards your gardener.

“excuse me for a moment,” you speak, side eyeing suguru before pulling him to the side, matteo continuing his job by picking juicy fruits from their stems.

“what’s your deal? that was fucking rude,” you denounce, gawking up at him with a raised brow. suguru folds his bulky arms, not understanding how you’re acting dumb right now. you knew this would piss him off.

suguru leans down to get closer to you, lips inches from your ear. “who told you to hire somebody like this?"

"hire somebody like what?" the man retaliates, overhearing suguru’s weak attempt of whispering to you, taking offense. regardless, he spoke on his name when he was right there.

suguru turns his face only an inch or so, barely giving the man full attention. you swallow, his face nearly touching your own possessively, like an animal protecting it’s mate. suguru then switches his eyes fully, intensely staring at the man. "like someone she'd fuck."

his immature response causes you to step away from him with a look of disgust, brows pinched with anger. you couldn’t believe his mouth. you’re not sure what the fuck’s gotten into him, but it wasn’t cute. quite frankly, he looked stupid.

“you’re making a fucking fool of yourself,” you spat, eyes burning. knocking your head back in the sweet gardeners direction, you hold your hand over your heart apologetically. “i am truly sorry for my husband’s rudeness. please forgive me for this, but i think it’s best if you go. i will give you a call tomorrow. i’m sorry again.”

the man nods only once, keeping his focus solely on you, not even bothering to glance in your husband’s direction. his possessiveness a black cloud over the party. “it’s not a problem at all. have a great rest of your day, ma’am.”

the minute your gardener is out of view, that’s when you give suguru an irritated snarl, looking him up and down as if the man had no shame. which he didn’t, and that was the problem. “what is wrong with you?!”

suguru intakes air as you strut away angrily, heading back into your kitchen to adapt into the ignoring him bubble and completely tuning into your dinner prepping. since you have freshly picked strawberries, you decided to start a mixture for muffins you could sell to the neighborhood tomorrow morning. a festival was being held at the ranch a few blocks down, already promising a few ladies you’d whip something up sweet.

suguru follows behind, studying as you huff and puff to yourself while gathering eggs, milk and other things you needed.

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“because it’s fucking stupid. why’d i hire someone to help me out? oh my god, such a mystery.”

“you’re being immature.”

that causes you to stop all movements. holding onto the edges of the island and staring at him with disbelief, mouth actually drawn open as you scoff. “i’m immature? because you didn’t just disrespect that man for no reason. you know him or sum’?”

“don’t act slow. you hired that man ‘cause he’s someone you can eye fuck when i’m not home. don’t pretend you don’t find him attractive,” suguru grits his teeth.

you roll your eyes. “ohh, so it’s jealousy! why would i want to cheat on someone i’m in love with? you’re being extremely distrustful. take that shit out of my kitchen, getou.”

“say that again,” he’s approaching you now, suguru observing as you cross your arms and pretend to be unfazed by how much bigger he was compared to you. his bare feet thumps along the floor as he nears you, hands in the pockets of his dark washed jeans, shoulders broad as he stared down at you darkly. now your body’s pressed up against the kitchen counter, turning your head the opposite way to avoid eye contact.

“getou,” you stand on what you say, uncaring. your husband deviously grins.

suguru kisses his teeth smugly. you practically moan when his hand grips your jaw to bring your attention back, fingers denting into your cheeks to make your lips pout, head tilted back. “watch that mouth of yours. there’s no need to be bratty.”

teeth sink into your lips he gawks at for a split second before meeting your eyes again. a feeble noise comes from you as he swiftly pulls up your white sundress, hands on the backs of your thighs to spread you open, fingers pulling your pussy open. not surprised to see you weren't wearing underwear. really, that pisses him off even further. it’s windy out and you were engaging in conversation with that man knowing your pussy was bare. he wants to laugh, seeing how wet you are already. fucking nympho. even though you’re mad, you can’t ignore how hot his touch makes you. you gulp, holding onto the edge of the counter as your gut flips after he crouched on one knee.

his breath hits your clit, and instantly your thighs tremble, suguru slowly sticking his tongue out his mouth, wide, long, and slick with saliva. it hovers over your clit, barely touching it. part of you wants to grab his hair and shove him down, but the look in his eyes says not to try it. his fingers come up to your face, extending two of the long digits inside of your mouth. you suck obediently, moaning around them while rolling forward towards his, aching for it. his free hand smacks your inner thigh causing you to release his fingers and whimper, suguru wasting zero time and curling them deep into you, shaking them frivolously as his lips suction on your clit, kissing your pussy deeply, using so much saliva.

his stare is hard on you the entire time, wrist moving instantaneously as he fucks you with them. he’s having a ball watching you wither and roll your hips, squealing and raising your thighs higher to your chest, listening to his fingers slam into you, that gushing sound of your pussy coating his fingers.

"c-can’t. . .”

"shut up," briskly, he pulls his fingers out and spanks your clit with them, standing to his feet, towering over you. you rest your head back against the wall by the window, shifting your body since your ass hurt a little from being on a granite countertop.

most of his words are blocked out as you watch the sexually pent-up man drag his pants down until they sit at his waist, pussy clenching at the dark pubic hairs sticking out, lust in your eyes as his veiny, big hand fists his cock. the thick vein leading up to the crown leaking precum makes you smile hazily.

"look at me when i’m talking to you."

you're too fucking mesmerized by him. his slightly dirty white tshirt is hiked up now, godly sculpted abs enticing you to run your fingers over them with a giddy laugh. suguru tilts his head to the side, clenching his jaw.

"hey," he calls to you, snapping his fingers twice in your face, voice deeper than usual. you can see that he's not up for bullshit. he’s arched over you, hair sticking to his forehead as he places his right hand on your lower back, arching into him until your chest presses against his. "listen to me when i talk to you, woman.”

the smell of his skin is intoxicating, reaching your hands behind him to claw at his ass, open mouth on his chin, moaning as he slides deep into you, looking down at you with a groan escaping his throat, furrowing his thick brows. suguru tries not to lose it, because despite his frustration, there's no way he could deny just how fucking good you felt pulling him deep right now. you hold tight, eyes hazy as he pounds into you without another word, arm stretching over to press his palm on the cabinet above, balancing himself and dragging you to meet him thrust for thrust.

"pussy so needy for me. it fuckin’ better be.”

please shut up, is what you think. his voice is too damn addictive, and the way he fucks you, virulently, like he fucking despised you . . . you didn't know if you could take much more. the other half of your brain is the opposite, thanking him over and over.

"oh, look, princess. there’s your favorite man,” it doesn't register that the two of you are legit fucking near an open window where anyone could see. “let’s say hi, baby."

unsure why he came back, it only takes ten seconds for your sweet gardener to immediately be swept with trauma, catching a glimpse at the two of you, suguru’s dark eyes burning into him while yours are shut to hide the embarrassment, stomach still flipping with rouse. his fingers has your jaw locked still to keep your fucked out face in the direction of the man who’s nothing short of unimpressed. tasteless, he thinks. wasting no time and turning away to hop back inside of his truck, only coming because he forgot to give you back the key to your garage. his lips are by your ear now. "looks like we’ll have to hire someone else.”

"you’re s-so . . . mean,” it’s the only thing you can think of, trembling and yanking your face out of his grasp. you wanna say you hate him, but deep down you knew this is what you've been craving all along. he’s exactly how you wanted him to be; lecherous. "fuck, can’t stand you.”

"you love me, sweetheart,” he coed, you hiccup. sobbing as he throws one of your legs over his arm, angling his hips slightly to the right and hitting into you faster, rolling your neck back, listening to how viscous his skin claps with your own, and his breath fans over your face.

"awe," he pouts, giving your forehead a chaste kiss. "y‘not gonna say it back?”

“d’nt deserve it,” you’re slurring your words and it pisses you off how dumb he makes you. his hand is around your neck now, choking you until you feel the blood rushing to your skull, luring the back of your own hand to your lips, using it as some sort of blockage for how loud you were being. louder than usual.

inching his lips towards yours, he studies how desperate you are to latch your lips with his, only for him to snatch them away. “then you don’t deserve my kiss.”

a frustrated whine leaves your throat, suguru humming tauntingly, delicately skimming his bitten red lips over yours with a moan following along with a whispered ‘no’. tightening his lock around your neck, he rolls his hips deeper, your hand clutching his wrist with tears in your eyes. “not until you tell me you love me.”

you gently sink your teeth into the back of your hand, getou leaning closer before sloppily kissing at your palm where your lips rested, an evil stare painted his expression. he sucks, licks, and moans on your hand, knowing you were wishing he'd do that to your mouth instead. fuck, that was enough to get you to the breaking point. thighs trembling as you drop your mouth open, nothing coming out.

"wait, are you gonna cum?" his mouth upturns as he widens his eyes and mouth with fake surprise. "you’re cumming, aren't you? don’t cum. if you cum, i’ll stop."

"suguru, fucking stop—"

"stop what, huh? why you talkin' back?" shoving his thumb in your mouth, he fucks you harder, body jolting as your eyes roll back and your mouth drools, clutching his wrist harder to keep him there. "weren't you gonna cum?"

"yessss!" you wail, tears falling down your eyes. that coil in the pit of your stomach is ready to snap, suguru’s sadistic voice ringing in your ears as he praises you, hips ramming harder to get you to break, clutching the back of his neck and screaming into his chest, giving him the answer he wants, riding the wave. "love you. love you.”

“good girl, good girl,” he proceeds to fuck you through it, just enough until you're pushing at his stomach to stop, kissing up the side of his neck drunkenly. suguru slides out of you, holding back a moan before he's grabbing your hand and pulling you off the counter, holding your waist so you don't fall over.

"knees, now."

you're more than happy to lower to your knees, already knowing what to prepare for, lulled, teary eyes focusing on him and the slick coated cock stretching over your face. you hold onto the back of his thighs, widening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, suguru holding your head still before gliding his dick inside the cave of heat now inundating him, jaw dropping, using the other hand to hold the cabinet once more and mercilessly fucking your throat. his moans are coarse, grunting and throwing his head back, hips stuttering as he holds you still and shoots deep in your mouth, cursing thousands of times he nearly filled the dictionary.

"swallow it and show me," and you do, without hesitation, sticking your tongue out proudly and it makes suguru even prouder. "that’s my girl."

"whatever," you wipe the side of your mouth, suguru lifting you off the floor, legs still too weak to function.

“there’s that mouth again, sweetheart. cut it short before i fuck you harder,” oh, he’s serious. that darkness in his eyes telling you not to try it again.

“s-sorry, baby. love you,” you give him those pretty doe eyes he falls weak to, rubbing your hands over his waist while placing your chin on his chest. batting your lashes innocently.

suguru hums. “tell me that after you get rid of that fuckin’ gardener.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[luviestarz]

ʏᴏᴏɴ ᴊᴇᴏɴɢʜᴀɴ ꜰɪᴄ ʀᴇᴄꜱ ! ✧

✧ such a flirt ! - @amateurasterism (it’s simple: jeonghan knows he’s a flirt, but didn’t realize you flirting back was the key to breaking him.)

✧ deeper in denial ! - @amateurasterism (if there’s one thing you know about jeonghan, it’s that he’s a tease. what happens when the teasing makes it to soonyoung’s game of spin the bottle?)

✧ MON ANGE ! - @itadorins

✧ KIDULT - @hvae (jeonghan always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too)

✧ mirror mirror - @cheolism (jeonghan asks to roleplay him being jealous and fucks you like the little desperate slut you are)

✧ It's Nice To Have A Friend | yjh x reader - @sluttywoozi (You and Jeonghan have embarked on your fifth annual Best Friends trip, but it's a bit different than usual, considering he made the reservation under Yoon Y/N and told them he was your husband. What's a honeymoon between friends anyway?)

✧ a little attention - @onlymingyus

✧ MY ATTENTION - @slytherinshua

✧ when jeonghan realizes he's in love with you - @wonwoonlight

✧ 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ♥︎ - yoon jeonghan ! - @hoshzone (not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that.)

✧ call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M] - @sweetlemontart (to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.)

✧ to live again | yoon jeonghan - @viastro (it’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future?)

✧ 彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan - @seuonji (daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day?)

✧ the long way | yoon jeonghan - @trblsvt (it was just like any other shoot. go in, pose, drink water, don't get food on the clothes, and don't joke around with the staff. easy. except it wasn't that easy.)

✧ — ode to you  - @lovelyhan (if there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. he can be crass. he can be secretive. he can be nothing short of vexing. but in the end, he's everything you need him to be.)

✧ rain and kisses | yoon jeonghan - @babyleostuff

✧ sharing is caring - yoon jeonghan - @etherealyoungk

✧ lowkey — yoon jeonghan - @chenfleur (Jeonghan's supposed to be on stage in twenty minutes, and he's nowhere to be found.)

✧ our dawn is hotter than day. - @ikigaisvt (in which you and your boyfriend says i love you for the first time surrounded by his friends.)

[yamujiburo]

HANAMUSA HEADCANONS

Woo! Some fun lil headcanons~

Jessie and Delia Headcanons

Delia is a morning person and was surprised to learn that Jessie was even more of a morning person than her

Jessie's a massive romantic and is usually the one to plan all their dates

Jessie and Delia enjoy doing karaoke together

After finding out Delia wanted to be model, Jessie started making a lot of new outfits for her using her years of expertise from making disguises

Jessie enjoys giving Delia makeovers and Delia loves getting them

Delia enjoys being big spoon

Delia initiated their first kiss

Jessie cuts Delia’s hair for her

Once Jessie becomes a nurse and starts going to work, Delia starts packing lunches for her every day. It’s usually way too much food

Whenever Delia’s working in the kitchen, Jessie’s always waddling right behind her. Not really being much help but Delia doesn’t mind

Jessie's not great at cooking but makes an effort to make food for Delia when she notices Delia's tired. It's usually bad but Delia appreciates the thought

Delia is incredibly fond of Jessie’s Pokémon, Wobbuffet and Gourgeist in particular 

Delia is terrified of snake Pokémon

Delia never really drank before meeting Jessie but now they have wine nights together. They usually end with Jessie passed out in Delia’s lap

When Delia gets really drunk, she gets REALLY affectionate and grabby

Delia can't swim and it's her secret shame

Professor Oak is very cordial with Jessie but also wary of her. He mostly wants to make sure Delia is taken care of and won't get her heart broken

Pikachu comes around to Jessie rather quickly after realizing she’s not really a threat and finding out how good at head scratches she is (she has nice long nails)

Mimey takes the longest to come around to Jessie 

Jessie calls Delia “my Deerling” and Delia calls Jessie "Smoochum"

Delia loves when Jessie gives her kisses on the forehead

Delia is a huge Jessilina fan. Jessie reveals that she is Jessilina but Delia doesn’t believe her at first

Jessie and Delia do a lot of movie nights together. Jessie loves sobbing at romcoms and Delia likes really fucked up horror movies for some reason (Jessie’s terrified of them but doesn’t want Delia to think she’s a coward)

Jessie likes to randomly scoop Delia up and carry her around the house

Delia picked up a habit of talking to herself prior to Jessie moving in. It frequently catches Jessie off guard

Jessie gets irritated when people flirt with Delia. Mostly because that's her girl but also because she's mad they weren't flirting with her, herself.

Delia tends to keep a lot of her negative feelings to herself but after meeting Jessie and seeing how unapologetically expressive she is, she starts letting her guard down a bit. She rants about rude customers and Jessie could listen to her all day

Because she lived alone for so long, Delia sometimes needs her space. Jessie’s still getting used to this (as someone who hates being alone)

Delia is very particular about how chores are done as well as how things are organized in her house

Prior to getting her own job, Jessie would just do chores then sit around at the Ketchum house waiting for Delia to come home. She’s very bad at entertaining herself

Jessie puts on a healthy amount of relationship weight over time. Long gone are the days of Jessie eating snow (out of necessity) and starving

Jessie still likes snowgasboard as a treat

Delia and Jessie both have abandonment issues and require a lot of reassurance from one another

Delia's not super strong but she starts working out in order to one day carry Jessie on their wedding day

Jessie, who is used to being on the run, gets antsy from staying home more frequently. She takes up a lot of yoga and running. Delia joins sometimes.

Ash Headcanons

When Ash first found out that his mom was dating Jessie, he was, justifiably, suspicious of her.

Early on Ash would secretly prank Jessie in hopes that it'd make her leave

Jessie and Ash slowly bond through Pokémon battles as well as sharing Pokémon facts with each other

Ash never calls Jessie “mom” and she’s very okay with that. He does however call her “dad” to piss her off

Jessie calls Ash “champ” in retaliation

Jessie's been quietly invested in Ash's love life, having seen him travel with so many people and witnessing all the crushes people have had on him.

James Headcanons

James is aroace and happy not being in a relationship

Now that he's settled down in Pallet, James spends a lot of his time indulging in his many hobbies (bottle cap/Pokéball collecting, gardening, building miniature models of various things, raising and training Pokémon, etc.)

Because Jessie kept passing out at wine nights, Delia started inviting James to them and it's now become more of their thing

James started off as just a waiter at Delia's restaurant but Delia found out he was great at cooking so they exchange roles sometimes

Jessie frequently goes to him for advice on how to impress Delia and be a better person for her. He's the nicest person she knows.

Jessie is still pretty affectionate and close with James and he gets freaked out about it, thinking Delia would have a problem with it (she does not)

James and Ash really get along. Even early on when he was still getting used to Jessie being around the house, he'd confide in James (and James, like a secret helper, would help Jessie out by letting her know Ash's needs)

Meowth Headcanons

Meowth took getting fired from Team Rocket the hardest

Delia and Professor Oak filled the Giovanni shaped hole in his heart

Oak had a really hard time trusting Meowth at first and whenever he translated anything from the Pokémon, Oak wasn't sure whether to believe him or not

After some time working at Oak's lab, Oak gave Meowth a pet on the head after he did a good job and it altered his brain chemistry forever

Meowth had a hard time making friends with Ash's Pokémon at Oak's lab (obviously) but Infernape, right away was happy to have him around. He helped all the Pokémon come around and get to know Meowth

Meowth was the first one to pick up on Jessie's crush on Delia. Unlike James, he didn't get too involved, worried that Jessie dating Delia then potentially blowing it might ruin a good thing (his views on love are a bit jaded after his experiences)

Meowth is now very supportive of Jessie and Delia, and is happy that one of his best friends found love

Other Headcanons

Professor Oak is very cordial with Jessie but also wary of her. He mostly wants to make sure Delia is taken care of and won't get her heart broken

Pikachu comes around to Jessie rather quickly after realizing she’s not really a threat and finding out how good at head scratches she is (she has nice long nails)

Mimey takes the longest to come around to Jessie. Jessie's asked Meowth to help her figure out what Mimey's deal is but Meowth is also scared to talk to Mimey.

Seviper desperately longs for Delia's love and attention but she's too scared of it. She eventually gets to the point where she can pet it with no issues as long as Jessie is also in the room

Early on, Delia's customers start to pick up on the fact that Delia was happier. They assumed she'd finally found a new boyfriend but they were very surprised to find out she was dating a bombshell of a woman

The people of Pallet were initially a bit scared of Jessie. Not a lot of women there look quite like her. She has an intimidating aura but over time find that she's quite pleasant, especially when she's with Delia

General Team Rocket Heacanons!

[ddejavvu]

What about spencer with a reader who is normally so independent and does everything for herself but she’s so soft for spencer and lets him dote on her and take care of her and the team is like :o bc they can’t believe she is letting someone do things for her

"I'm not a tyrant," Spencer's voice is inexhaustibly patient, and his fingers are slightly awkward as he holds them around his phone, angling it awkwardly so that you can see his upper half on face-time while he sits at his desk, "I just want you to take your medicine so that you can get better."

"I am better," You insist, your voice a far cry from its usual drawl. It's more ragged and weak, and you definitely have a stuffy nose, which indicates how untruthful your words are. Everyone knows it, most of the bullpen can hear your insistent griping, and they're beginning to feel bad for Spencer. They can't imagine how he'd gotten you to stay home today, but they're shooting each other knowing grins each time you push back against his gentle insistence.

"No, angel, you're not." Spencer croons, "You're on the mend, but you're not recovered yet. And you'll get worse if you don't take your meds. I put them on the nightstand for you, and some water. All you have to do is take them, and go back to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep!" You insist, and it's a whine- a whine! Emily's mouth splits in an incredulous grin, and a laugh threatens to tremble Derek's broad shoulders at how juvenile your attempts at protest have become. They're used to your biting words, your forceful demeanor, your inability to surrender any control, but Spencer's got you tucked into the covers begging for a kiss on the forehead.

"I've been sleeping all day, and I slept all day yesterday, and the day before that. I'm tired of sleeping. Just let me fill out some paperwork! Anything, Spence, please."

He chews on the inside of his cheek, ignoring the way that JJ giggles suspiciously with Penelope, who's leaning against the side of her desk, drawn out of her office for the spectacle.

"You can read," He relents, "And you can watch tv but only if you do it on your computer with the night light setting turned on," He narrows his eyes, taking on your rather rough persona to ensure that his orders are obeyed, "Promise?"

"Promise," You rasp, and the team can hear the smile in your voice, "Thanks, Spencer."

"Use the night light setting," He warns instead of accepting your thanks, "I'll check later to see if it's turned on!"

"Okay!" You laugh, and Spencer winces lightly as the sound morphs into a thick cough, "Okay, I'll- ah, I'll see you later, baby."

"See you later," He concedes with a fond smile, waving in addition to his verbal goodbyes, "Love you."

"Love you too," You promise, then end the call. Spencer feels the weight of everyone else's stares on him as he sets his seldom-used phone down and resumes working, refusing to acknowledge them unless they prod at him first.

"Good job, Spence," JJ congratulates, "I didn't think she'd ever take a sick day."

"I know," Emily gushes with bright eyes and a wild smile, "If I tried to tuck her in she'd probably bite me."

"Well, that's 'cause you don't have Pretty Boy's charm," Derek cracks, though the smile that he flashes Prentiss is reassurance that he's teasing Spencer more than he's teasing her, "Congrats on wearing the pants today, Reid. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause as soon as she's out of bed, she's taking the wheel again."

Spencer takes great pleasure in levelling Derek with a meaningful, "Shut up," because he's more than happy to be your passenger princess any day.

[pastorpresent]

Logan, who rolls his eyes at Wade's constant moving and squirming in their bed. Logan, who grumbles at him to shut up during the night when they are both trying to sleep because Wade won't stop rambling nonsense. Logan, who growls and shakes him off whenever they accidently end up intertwined in their sleep.

Except then Wade ends up on a merc job that runs through the night and Logan can't fucking sleep.

At first, he isn't sure what the problem is. He did his usual routine, set up the pull out and climbed under the covers, looking forward to a night with the bed to himself.

He then proceeds to toss and turn for hours. His brain won't shut off enough for him to fall asleep, and he can't get fucking comfortable. It's driving him insane, and he lies there for hours, utterly frustrated because he is tired. He's exhausted, actually, and yet he can't fall asleep and the why of it all doesn't hit him till about 3am.

The bed isn't creaking softly under Wade's constantly bouncing leg and shifting positions. There's no running commentary that quietens his own thoughts enough to let him drift off. There's nothing warm and solid that smells like Wade to wrap himself around during the night when his body is craving touch the most.

He gives up with a growl, flicking on the TV and relenting to the fact he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. His brain won't shut the fuck up repeating Wade's name like a damn mantra, and his body is practically vibrating with anxiety over the fact the merc wasn't next to him right now where he was supposed to be.

(Ridiculous and possessive, he scolds himself. Wade is his own damn person, and he has more important stuff to do that be Logan's emotional support teddy bear. Not to mention he's over two hundred fucking years old, and shouldn't need an emotional support teddy bear.)

Wades gets back at six in the morning. Logan can smell the thick scent of his blood before he actually sees him, and he's already up and at the door as Wade enters silently.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he sees Logan standing there waiting for him.

"Fuck, peanut! Warn a guy next time! I thought you'd still be sleeping," Wade says, pulling his mask off, clutching his chest dramatically.

Now that Wade's here, standing in front of him after Logan spent the last eight hours craving his prescence to a nauseating degree, he doesn't know what to say. Doesn't want to freak Wade out with his own stupid attachment, settles on a "you okay?"

His voice cracks, and Wade looks instantly worried, taking a step into his space.

"I think I should be asking you that," he frowns, and Logan shrugs, tries to keep his tone light and casual as he replies, "couldn't sleep."

It comes out the opposite of light and casual. The heaviness of the emotion there is embarrassing and obvious, and Wade clicks on without any further clarification.

Logan cringes, waiting for the jokes. Waiting for Wade to gloat about making it so he can't sleep without him, and the thing is Logan would take it all on the chin. Would accept every condescending word if it meant that Wade would just come to bed with him.

Except Wade's face goes soft instead, and he's tugging off his blood stained gloves and lifting both hands to cup Logan's face. His expression is... fond, and Logan wants to tell him he doesn't deserve it, but instead he just kind of melts into the touch. Into Wade's warmth. His smell. It's intoxicating, and a better distraction than any bottle Logan had ever found himself at the bottom of.

"I... come to bed, please? I'm so tired," Logan mumbles, and Wade smiles.

"There's no where else I'd rather be, sweetheart. Let me shower off the blood and I'm all yours."

Logan's anxiety spikes a little despite himself, and he's scanning over Wade with concern, "are you definitely alright?"

"Immortal, remember? I'm completely fine peanut, but if you want to join me in the shower to examine me yourself I'm not complaining," he wags his non-existent eyebrows, and Logan snorts.

"That shower would never fit the two of us."

"Is that a challenge?"

And he isn't sure why, but the warm familiarity of their back and forth sends him into a fresh wave of emotion again, and he finds himself pulling Wade in for a hug before he could chastise himself for even wanting it.

Wade hugs him back tight, running a hand over his back, "so no more overnight jobs?"

Logan grumbles his disapproval, and Wade chuckles in his hold.

[alicewrotethis]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩. 𝟐﹒

ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! tsukishima  does something he know will come back to haunt him   ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip k. tsukishima x chubby!fem!reader, nsfw nsfw nsfw   ﹒ ◠ note!!  playlist i listened to while making this !  angst will be in the next part muahahahahaah😼ALSO IT DOESNT LET ME RPELY TO COMMENTS WAA ౨   wc!! 3.5k <<< part one part three >>>

It had been a few weeks since you said those words to Tsukishima, and it's like they're still fresh on his mind. Ever since then, you've been inseparable, well, as inseparable as you can be. You both grew fond of each other's company and grew well as friends, he even managed to break it off with Etsuko; not wanting her to interfere with your friendship any further. He even told some of the guys on his team about you, only after they wouldn't stop pestering him on who the pretty girl was bringing in his lunches in cute bento boxes. He appreciated what you did for him, and he did his best to show it in his own way, he hoped you could feel it as well.

But it all came to a steady stop a few days ago; nothing bad had happened, you just got busy managing your classes and job and you didn't really have enough time to stop by his practices much between running from the college to the bakery then back again. Tsukishima never said anything about it, he knew you were stressed and didn't wanna seem selfish, though, he desperately missed the times you'd spend together. It's not like you never spent any time with him, you'd still go over to his apartment and hed go to yours whenever but either way your face would be stuffed in a book and papers and never just on him.

It started affecting his days as well, not being able to see you- to really see you.

Today was no exception.

You were sitting on Tsukishima's living room floor, papers and books scattered all around you as well as highlighters and pencils, some music filled the background, your combined playlist you made him join on Spotify. It was a sight Tsukishima had grown accustomed to in these past days.

"You alright down there?" He asked, his tone rather gentle as he studied your form.

It took you a minute to reply, wanting to finish reading the paragraph before directing your attention to him, "Yeah, sorry," You let out a yawn as you stretched your back, your shirt lifting a little to reveal more of your skin, something that didn't go unnoticed by Tsukishima. He found himself noticing these small parts of you more often than usual.

"You should take it easy," He spoke softly, standing up and walking over to where you were seated, promptly leaning down to your eye level and neatly sorting your papers into a stack.

"Sorry for the mess, Tsuki, its just your place is so cozy," You watched as he sorted and piled your books and pencils, you watched how his long fingers engulfed the pencils with ease, and you started to wonder how they'd feel on your skin.

"It's practically the same as your place, since, you know, it's the same complex," He teased, placing your things in your bag as you snapped out of your thoughts.

What were you possibly thinking? How could you think that about your best friend? Maybe he was right, maybe you did need to take it easy, all this stress must've been getting to your head.

"Yeah, but in yours, I get to be near you," You hadn't meant anything by it when you said it, but Tsukishima still developed a slight blush on his cheeks. He hated how much of an effect your words had on him, and how easily you could have him flustered.

"Whatever," He spoke, standing up, "You gonna spend the night?" He wasn't sure why he asked, you've never spent the night at his place since you were right next to him, he just wanted to spend more time in your presence before you went back into your usual busy routine tomorrow.

"Of course, we can have a sleepover Tsuki!" You cheered up at him, still sitting on your knees. Despite how innocent the moment was, Tsukishima couldn't stop his mind from drifting.

"Dont say it like that, it sounds lame," He spoke, "Do you want the bed or the couch,"

You huffed, "Your bed is big enough for the both of us, right?" You stood up and walked towards his room, "I mean it is a sleepover, Tsuki,"

His face flushed once again at the thought of sharing the same bed as you, his bed was in fact big enough, but he wasn't sure he could control himself in such close proximity to you, he could barely stand it now.

Tsukishima wasn't oblivious, he knew what a crush was, and he knew what he was feeling resembled one. But he didn't want to ruin what you both shared, he didn't want to be selfish with you. It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

"Dont call it a sleepover," He sighed, following you into the bedroom.

"Tsuki! I didn't even notice you had glow-in-the-dark stars! That's so cute," You exclaimed, staring up at the dimly lit green stars, you assumed they'd be brighter once the lights were shut off.

"Dont look at them it's embarrassing," He spoke while grabbing his plain black hoodie, and a towel and tossing them your way, "The showers in... well you already know,"

"Thank you," You said shyly as you entered the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom. It made you nervous knowing you'd be showering while Tsukishima was out there.

And Tsukishima was no better, he couldn't help but imagine your bare body, he thought about running his hands up and down your curves gently, showing you exactly how riled up you get him, hearing you say his name, god, the way it rolls off your tongue like a prayer. You drove him absolutely wild. He wasn't sure how he'd get through the night with you next to him.

The sound of the door opening snapped him out of his thoughts, he was sitting up on the bed, facing the bedroom TV on his dresser, watching whatever show was on your shared Netflix recent played, you begged him to join your plan so you could see what shows he liked watching since he wasn't really the talkative type. He liked that about you, he liked that you always wanted to know more about him.

His eyes scanned you up and down, and he could tell that you weren't wearing anything underneath his hoodie.

"Um, Tsuki?" Your voice called his attention, and he raised his brow at you.

"Do you have any spare, uh," You looked away out of nerves, "Panties.." You meekly said, earning a chuckle from Tsukishima.

"Why would I own panties?" He asked in a teasing tone, adoring the way you got shy so quickly. He wished his hoodie was just a bit shorter.

"Well, do you have anything?" Your face was a deep red as you furrowed your brows, not finding the situation as humorous as Tsukishima did.

"In that drawer, the top one," He pointed with his fingers while watching you walk to the dresser, turning your back to him to grab a pair of boxers. Tsukishima tried to keep his eyes from exploring places they shouldn't.

"Close your eyes," You spoke softly, now facing him.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he complied and you swiftly pulled them up, they fit quite nicely against your curves, it covered you but left nothing to the imagination, not that you cared, you just wanted to feel less... bare.

He opened his eyes when he felt you crawl into bed next to him, taking your phone out of the hoodie pocket and opening TikTok. Tsukishima grabbed the remote and turned the TV down a bit, knowing you liked to blast your TikTok's on full volume, he never complained tho, he found your for you page funny.

He felt his phone buzz, it was a notification from you, you sent him a TikTok, "Why are you sending me stuff I'm right here," He said with a smile looking over at you wrapped in the blankets, your head barely peeking out of the sheets to see your phone screen.

"I dont know, quit judging me sassyshima," You mumbled from under the blanket, you promptly shoved the phone in his face as a TikTok played.

"When my boy bestfriend decides to not answer me like I'm one of his hoes," Tsukishima read the words out loud, earning a giggle from you.

"It's so relatable," You spoke, taking the phone away from his face.

"No it's not, youre probably the only girl in my contacts," He said, his eyes never leaving you.

His words made you sit up and face him, "Tsuki, is this an admission that you," You paused dramatically, "Have no game...?" Your arms held you up against the mattress as you leaned in for dramatic effect.

Tsukishima scoffed, "I have plenty of game, I have a pretty girl in my bed right now," He smirked at you, watching as the familiar blush formed on your cheeks.

You crossed your arms against your chest, puffing your chest up unknowingly, "That doesn't count," You mumbled, taking your place back next to him and yawning.

You shifted on your side, your back facing him in an attempt to hide your blushing face, unconsciously rubbing your ass against Tsukishimas leg.

He felt his dick throb at the touch, and he wasn't sure what he should do, he didn't wanna make it awkward but he also didn't want you to think he liked it- which he very much did; but he didn't want you to know that as it might scare you away. but god he knew he couldn't stand it much longer.

Tsukishima instinctively placed a hand on your hip, not even realizing what he had done before you stopped your movements.

"Sorry, I dont know why I did that," He spoke softly, removing his hand.

You were a flustered mess, your heart was beating out of your chest and you were sure he could've heard it from there, you didn't even know you were rubbing against him and you felt bad for it, the ghost of his hand on your hip left a burning sensation, making warm waves twist and turn in your stomach. Was it wrong to think he wanted you in the way you needed him?

"Tsuki?" You asked apprehensively, shifting so you were facing him.

"Fuck, dont say my name like that," He breathed out, already staring at you. His breaths were heavy, and from what the TV illuminated you could tell there was a deep red adorning his face, the sight of him like this had you clenching around nothing.

"Touch me again," You enticingly spoke. The air was thick with tension, and your body felt hot all over despite the cool air floating around Tsukishimas apartment, "Please, Tsuki," You begged fervently.

Tsukishima was fighting battles in his mind, he wanted so badly to take you right here, to show you how badly he's been missing your presence, but he knew that when the morning came you'd both regret it, the friendship would become awkward, he didn't want that, he didn't want to lose you due to not being able to control himself.

"We can't," He said reluctantly, looking everywhere but you.

"Why not?" You whined out, your whines only making his cock twitch in his sweatpants.

"Fuck it," And with those words he was on you, running his hands all over your soft body, moving his hoodie up, and feeling your bare skin.

You let out soft whimpers at his rough touch, he was feeling you like he'd never get to again, as if you'd disappear in an instant and you loved it.

"Can I take it off, baby?" He asked gently, still feeling you everywhere except where you needed him the most.

His question made you cower under his gaze, there was nowhere you could hide so you brought your hands up to cover your face.

"If you dont want to, it's okay, I'll still think you're beautiful," His voice was smooth and intoxicating, it made your mind go fuzzy and all you could muster was a small nod.

His hands came down to the hem of the hoodie and pulled it off you in one swift movement, and though he couldn't see much with only the TV lighting up the room, what he could see he found perfect.

Before his hands could continue exploring your curves you grabbed his arm, "You too," You shyly spoke, earning a smile from Tsukishima. He complied with your demand and swiftly threw his shirt to the ground. You admired his form and ran your fingers along his build, sending shivers down his spine at your touch. You were finally touching the man who consumed all your fantasies.

Your hips unconsciously bucked against his thigh, earning a small moan from you at the friction. "Touch me, Kei," Your tone was laced with sultry, you had a deep need for his touch, you wanted so badly to come undone on him, for him, to him.

He positioned himself so your legs were on either side of him, and his fingers ran down your soft stomach, and down into the borrowed boxers, eliciting a small gasp at the contact. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck and began kissing and licking as his fingers slid up and down your slick puffy lips, coating his digits in your wetness.

You felt him smirk on your skin, "All this for me?" He smugly asked, even in a moment like this he still had the biggest ego.

"Tell me how bad you want me," He demanded in your ear, kissing the soft skin.

"I need you so bad, Kei, so so so bad," You whined, hating how much he was teasing you.

You felt him sink a finger in, and you let out a hushed moan into his ear, causing him to sink another finger in. He felt your grip on his shoulders as he moved his fingers into you deeper, he loved how you felt around his fingers, the feeling had his dick throbbing in his sweatpants, but he wanted to take care of you first, he wanted to feel you cum all over his fingers.

Tsukishima knew he found your soft spot when you became a moaning mess, rocking your hips on his hand and digging your nails into his skin.

"Yeah? Like that baby?" He whispered in your ear, quickening his pace. His other hand ran up your body to massage your breast in his palm, you felt vulnerable under his gaze, knowing he's touched you everywhere, but the thought only made you clench more around his fingers.

"Yes! More, more, more," You repeated in chants, his thumb came to rub around your clit, making your hips jolt up at the sudden sensation.

"I've missed you so much since you've been busy," His pace was steady, and his slender fingers reached places in you you didn't even know existed, you couldn't barely form any sentences as the familiar feeling of your climax crept up on you.

"Missed seeing your pretty face all the time," He praised in your ear, licking his way from your neck to your lips in a hungry kiss, wanting to taste you.

"You gonna cum?" He asked, maintaining eye contact with you as his fingers gradually increased their pace on your clit, the feeling felt like nothing you've ever felt before, it was new, and you were already addicted, his scent was intoxicating and it filled your every pore, you could hear how wet you were.

You nodded profusely, unable to speak due to the loud moans and shrieks that were coming from your mouth, Tsukishima loved the sight of you, a mess all because of his fingers, he couldn't wait to see what you would be like on his dick.

"Look at me, baby, god, I can't get enough of you,"

"'M gonna cum! Tsuki, tsuki, tsuki, please," You were cut off by your own climax, your walls clenched tightly around Tsukishimas fingers as your back arched up into his body, twitching and jolting while he fingered you through your high.

Your clit soon became too sensitive so you wrapped your hand around his wrist in an attempt to halter his movements.

"Tsuki, too much," You whined out, body twitching vigorously.

"Sorry, youre just so pretty," He took his fingers out of you, your walls instantly missing them. You took a minute to regain your composure while Tsukishima slid his sweatpants down and you slid the boxers off.

Tsuki started pumping his dick in his hand that was coated in your cum, the feeling eliciting a low moan. He could've come just by the sight of you.

"Are you ready?" He asked, rubbing his tip against your puffy lips, guiding it to rub against your clit.

You nodded up at him through tired eyes.

"I wanna hear you, baby," He spoke, never losing eye contact with you.

"Yeah, I need you Tsuki," Your voice was soft, exhaustion setting in from your high before.

"That's my girl,"

He guided his tip to your entrance and slowly let it sink into your slick folds, a gasp erupting from your mouth while Tsuki bit hard on his lip, trying to quiet his own groans. It wasn't enough for you though, you needed more of him, and you wanted to take every inch of him.

"More, Tsuki, please," You begged.

His arms were planted on either side of you, holding him up above you, "I don't want to hurt you," And it was true, but a part of him wanted to thrust so deep into you until you took all of him. But this was your first time together, he wanted to take it slow and remember every little sound you could possibly make.

Tsukishima slowly pushed deeper into you and with every inch came a new sound, your fingers were digging into his forearms, and your legs were wrapped around his waist, trying to guide him further into you. The pain felt so, so good to you.

When he finally bottomed out, you felt it, that special spot you had become addicted to him hitting, it felt even better now that you felt fuller.

"Right there, more, please, oh my god," Your back arched upwards and your hips bucked as you started fucking yourself on his dick, you felt him twitch inside of you at the sight.

"Fuck, baby, youre gonna make me cum doing that," He lightly laughed at how desperately you grinded on his dick, his arms moved to your hips, holding them in place and stilling their movement.

"You want more? Huh?" He teased.

"Yes! Stop being mean, Tsuki," You whined, face turning into a frown at the lack of friction.

"Alright, baby, I'll be nice," He smirked before pulling out and thrusting roughly back into you, your eyes rolled back and a shout of pleasure erupted from your throat, your body would've twitched had his grip on your hips not been so tight. He repeated his motion again, only this time he kept doing it at a steady pace. The pleasure sent waves up your spine, you couldn't even think straight, the only thing on your mind was how good Tsukishima was fucking you.

"Been wanting to do this since you made me that cake," He breathed out between moans and thrusts, "You have no idea what you do to me,"

Your hand reached down to your clit but was swatted away and replaced by Tsukishimas fingers, "Such a needy girl, yeah?" It wasn't even processing in your mind what he was saying, all you knew was to agree and take it.

With every thrust, your moans grew louder, every time he hit your soft spot harder and harder, the sounds of skin on the skin filled the room along with your nonsense blabbers about how good he was fucking you.

"Fuck, baby, I'm close," He groaned out, his pace grew sloppier with his thrusts, and his fingers on your clit got faster, "Can I cum inside you?" He asked, leaning down to breathe in your scent.

"Yes, please, please," Your sentence rambled off into noncoherent moans as the familiar knot in your stomach tightened. Tsukishima whispered all sorts of praises in your ear, but one stood out to you.

"Your body is perfect for me, baby," His sentence was enough to drive you over the edge, your walls clamped down tightly around his dick as you let out a shriek of pleasure, chanting his name over and over, it brought Tsukishima to his own climax, and with one deep thrust you felt his cum fill you in warm sputters, his hips bucked through his climax while his head rested on your shoulder, small pants coming from him as he caught his breath.

You both had stayed in that position for a while, seemingly going over what had just happened.

He stood up suddenly, leaving your walls to clench around nothing and you stared up at his glow in the dark stars as he cleaned you off silently

mlist. rules. tags.

© 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ please don't copy, translate, or post any of my work without my permission !

tags: @ilovemymomscooking

<< part one part three >>>

[ccazimi]

White Chrysanthemums

Part 1

plot: you are sukuna's most puzzling job to date. why would anyone hire a professional assassin for some ordinary woman? wc: 1.4k a/n: this part is kind of just a teaser :3

Sukuna has never been one to ask questions, not where it doesn’t matter. Which is probably part of why he’s so successful at what he does.

Assassination is about efficiency, and lethal precision. His job is to eliminate, not wonder.

And still, this job — this might just be the most odd job he’s ever been given.

The file said you lived in a building just off a quiet residential street, surrounded by plum trees that had long shed their blossoms.

Sukuna didn’t need much to locate you.

You live on the third floor, balcony door always unlocked. A few half dead potted plants sitting there. Your curtains are too sheer to matter even if they do happen to be pulled closed. No pets, no roommates, no boyfriend, just some freelance graphic designer that lives alone.

Your life, according to the dossier, is painfully uneventful.

And yet, there’s a bounty on your head for 225 million yen.

The first time he sees you, you arrive home late in the afternoon — arms full of groceries (why you didn’t just get a grocery bag is anyone’s guess), oversized hoodie slightly damp from the rain. He watches as you kick the apartment door shut, a lemon falling out of your hands and tumbling onto the ground.

For a second, you just stand there staring at it like you’ve watched your soul escape.

And then, you put the groceries in your arms down on your dining table. Sukuna, who’s crouched across the street on a rooftop, just expects you to immediately go and pick up the lemon, like any sensible person would.

You don’t.

Instead, you decide to put away every single other grocery first.

And Sukuna just waits there, watching through his binoculars, unable to remember the last time he felt so stressed at the sheer inefficiency of how someone lived their day to day life.

And finally, finally, once everything else is put in its place, you go and pick up the fucking lemon.

He breathes a sigh of relief, before putting down the lenses and deciding what to think.

You move like someone with no predators — no paranoia, no fear, no unease.

Your apartment has just one lock, your phone password is four digits — probably your birthday.

You live like you have no idea that someone like him even exists.

But he’s checked the file countless times, he’s followed you enough to make sure that this is the person. Without a doubt, it is you, with that exorbitant bounty on your head.

Sukuna doesn’t have questions about his targets.

But this? This is something he can’t wrap his mind around — something that makes him uncomfortable.

So, he watches some more.

It doesn’t take Sukuna long to figure out your schedule. You have a few freelance clients, and work from home. Sometimes you’ll go to the park with a sketchbook, other times you’ll buy yourselves flowers or sit outside convenience stores inhaling onigiri.

You smile at strangers, and seem to be rather fond of stray cats — feeding them tidbits of your food, scratching and petting them — but strangely enough you don’t ever speak to them. Or to yourself, like he might have expected from someone like you.

You love plants, clear from the amount of random ones you bring home, which Sukuna finds mildly humorous considering they always seem to end up dying within a few days of your care. You drink coffee, usually with so much milk and sugar he’s not even sure if it should be allowed to be called “coffee”. You try to cook, whether the meal will be a success or not is entirely up to chance. Maybe partially because you don’t use the gas stove ever — if you cook things it’ll either be in the microwave or oven.

Sukuna feels himself starting to grow more and more uncomfortable.

Because for some odd reason, despite the suffocating mundane nature of you and your life, you don’t feel like prey.

It’s another rainy afternoon, and Sukuna’s once again tailing you as you stop by the convenience store by your house. He’s been watching from a distance, planning to get closer but not quite sure on how to do it yet.

He knows it's not a good idea considering he's planning to murder you, but something about all this simply doesn't sit right. Maybe if he actually meets the target, he'll be able to understand better.

You run into the store without an umbrella, hoodie slightly soaked, and grab your usual- a pack of onigiri, canned coffee, and some white chrysanthemums from the convenience store rack.

You rush out, juggling everything in your arms as you always do, no matter the fact that it never gets easier. Unsurprisingly, one of the cans of coffee slips from your grasp and rolls down the pavement — straight to where he’s standing at the overhang, smoking a cigarette, acting like just another nonchalant guy avoiding the rain.

You chase after it, a little breathless, just to look up and find him holding out the can to you.

“You dropped this,” he says, cool and unreadable.

“Oh.” You blink up at him like you’re not used to being seen, raindrops glittering in your lashes. “Thanks.”

You take the can carefully, fingers brushing his for a second too long.

And as you start to leave, a grey tabby trots up out of nowhere—wet and scrawny. It meows.

“Oh, Cement,” you murmur, crouching down to open your onigiri and break off a piece. “I told you salmon wasn’t good for your kidneys.”

The cat takes it anyway, evidently holding no concern for the wellbeing of its kidneys.

Sukuna furrows his brows in confusion. “You named it Cement?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You pause and look up at him like he’s asked the most stupid question in the world. “Uh…because he’s the color of cement?”

Sukuna looks at the cat, and now he’s not sure why he even asked that or what answer he really expected.

Cement finishes his morsel of food, and then to both yours and Sukuna’s surprise, he brushes against his ankle.

You glance up, half-joking. “He doesn’t usually like people.”

Sukuna shrugs. “Maybe he’s got bad taste.”

You snort. “Rude.”

Your nose twitches a bit as you suddenly glance over to he cigarette between his fingers, before commenting, “You smoke the same brand as… someone I know… used to. I hate it.”

He blinks. “That so?”

“Mhm.” You stand up again. “He died in a fire.” And then as if you’re already expecting some awkward answer of pity, you jokingly add, “Not your fault, unless you’re secretly an arsonist or something.”

There’s a faint smile on your lips, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. You adjust your groceries, pause, then extend your hand like you just remembered how introductions work, and give him your name before asking for his.

Sukuna gives his real name.

Should he give a fake one? Probably.

But his pride wouldn’t allow such a thing. Besides, you don’t really seem like much of a threat anyway.

“Well,” you say, glancing at the cigarette again. “You shouldn’t smoke near cats. It’s bad for their lungs.”

It’s bad for humans’ lungs too, he almost wants to say, but you’re already walking off, disappearing into the rain, flowers crushed slightly under your arm.

He stays standing there long after you’re gone.

“I’m telling you,” he says, voice clipped, trying to keep his irritation in check, “you’ve got the wrong woman. This doesn’t make any sense.”

His employer’s voice crackles through the phone, dry and mechanical. “You’ve been given the target. Proceed as directed.”

“No,” Sukuna interrupts, running a hand through his hair, his impatience flaring. “I’m serious. You sent me after her. But there’s nothing special about her. She’s... harmless. She doesn’t even look like she knows what the hell’s going on.” He stares out the window, narrowing his eyes as the rain pelts against the glass, a sound that almost drowns out the gnawing confusion in his mind. “Why the hell is she worth so much money? What’s the catch?”

The employer’s response is cold, as if they’re reading from a script. “Do the job, Sukuna. Payment will be processed when it’s complete.”

Sukuna’s frustration grows. “Fuck. Just tell me something — anything. Do you know what she named her cat? She named it Cement. She fucking named the stupid cat Cement because it’s the color of cement! And this is the person you want dead?”

A long pause on the other end of the line. Then the employer, unfazed, replies flatly, “I mean... I guess that’s a pretty decent reason to name a cat Cement.”

“I-” Sukuna growls in aggravation, raking his hand over his face. “Just forget Cement! Don’t you think this entire job is kinda off? It’s like you just tossed me a random target, and now I’m supposed to play along.”

He leans against the window, staring out at the rainy street, the soft thrum of water hitting the glass doing nothing to calm him. He exhales sharply through his nose. “I get it, you want it done, but come on... Something doesn’t sit right with me. Why her?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, and for a moment, Sukuna wonders if they’ve hung up.

Then the employer speaks again, as monotone as ever, “Your assignment is not to question the target. Proceed with the mission, Sukuna.”

Sukuna closes his eyes, annoyed, but he doesn’t hang up. He knows this is pointless. “Fine. I’ll do it. But I want full payment, up front, once it’s done. No more bullshit, no more waiting.”

He pauses for a beat, thinking, before finally muttering, “And if anything happens... If something goes wrong with this, I’ll be coming for you. No one gives me a job this shady without consequences.”

The line goes dead, and Sukuna stands there for a moment, his thoughts swirling. He hasn’t let it go, not yet.

He’s not sure if he’ll be able to anytime soon.

a/n: so. i intend for this to be a fic with multiple parts, and ofc a multichapter fic means i just have to... play around with certain elements. meaning i probably won't start regularly posting the other parts until i plan a bit more, finish my other fics, and of course start writing. this was me just testing the waters hehe

taglist: @thequeenofcurses

[pearlymel]

☆ cw. mdni, fem!reader, fluffy smut, talks of having children, established relationship.

Zayne Always admired that look on your face whenever he would start making love to you.

Your messed up hair that no matter how much he tried smoothening it out with his fingers, it would end up even messier, your swollen parted glossy lips, and half-lidded awaiting eyes.

Zayne doesn't really know when he became fond of you. Perhaps it was when he first met you all those years ago, when you two were kids. Maybe it was when he found you passed out under a tree during a storm.

But ever since he realized his feelings for you all he could think about was making sure you don't get hurt. He's not sure if he's been doing a good job with that. Especially when you're asking for another round after he just wrecked your pussy from the long hours at the hospital, could you really blame him?

As if you could read his mind, you whisper "you're doing well, dearest."

"I should be the one reassuring you, love." He chuckled as he pressed a kiss on your forehead. He's quite glad you're in his arms. There are days where his work takes a toll on him more than usual.

He knows sometimes you're able and willing to go another round since you're quite greedy to keep the feeling going, he'd always make sure to stop you. You can be a little too impatient sometimes, it makes his cheeks flush a rosy pink as he rubbed the tip of his re-hardend flushed length against your slit, coating himself in your slick.

And there's your gasp and arch of your back once he pushed in with a slow, deliberate thrust, filling you all at once, like your cunt was swallowing him in that it never misses to make him dizzy.

His right hand traces along your left arm until it reached your hand to enclose your fingers together, where he could feel your wedding ring on his skin. with that, Zayne starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm. He sets a gentle pace, focusing on long, deep strokes that aim to please rather than overwhelm as your lips find his into a messy, open-mouthed kiss, your tongues tangling lazily.

He angles his hips, hitting that spongy spot inside you that never fails to make you whimper and squirm underneath him. He reaches his free hand down between your bodies to find your clit, and he rubs slow, tight circles around the sensitive bud, matching the rhythm of his thrusts and your hand squeezes his so hard, signalling your pending orgasm.

Zayne can feel his own release building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, he redoubles his efforts, his fingers working on your clit faster as his cock starts pounding into harder, deeper for your pleasures. Your fluttering walls responds with a tight clench around his cock until your eyes are rolling back.

"Zayne," you pant his name softly like a prayer to his ear, your fingertips brushing over his shoulder to his cheek, "do you ever.. ever want to have a baby—"

The question catches him off guard. It's not that the thought of having kids with you doesn't excite him. Quite the opposite. You've both been married for a while, and he's quite keen on the idea.

"Haaah—" So keen that that it makes him cum right on the spot, he buries himself to the hilt inside, he groans low and long, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed into your awaiting womb in hot, thick spurts.

You're both silent in eachother's embrace for a while before he pulls out, you watch his every move without a word, from him cleaning you up to joining you back in bed so he could hold you close.

"You didn't answer me." You poke your question at him, and he raises an amused eyebrow, ".. the thought of having kids with you crosses my mind everytime i see you play with them." He answers you with passion, your heart skips a beat.

"... I think a copy of you and i would be cute." The idea of having a child that's a mix of both him and you being cute was something he also thought many times before. "Is that the only reason you want a kid?" He teased lowly, his hand moving to caress your nape now.

"Well you'd be a great father," you say it as if it's the obvious, and Zayne's smile grows wider as your statement, he couldn't help but feel happy hearing you think of him as a father.

The thought of you, carrying his child was quite appealing to him. He's quite sure he'd pamper you and take care of you ten times more than before.

"Do you really think so?" He asks as he watches you blink sleepily, "of course.. you're attentive, caring, loving, plus a doctor."

"And you think those will make me a great father?" His hand moves further down from your nape, it's now resting on the top of your hip, grabbing it lightly. Zayne's thumb continues to trace the skin of your hip in a soft manner. "How about you? Would you be a good mother?" He asks genuinely.

You're hesitant, "i don't think so."

"Why not?"

"..."

"I think you'll be an amazing mother, you just don't know it yet." Zayne softly pecks your cheek, and you blink slowly at the kiss.

Sometimes even he wonders why you can't see yourself the same way he does. He's sure if you were to give birth to his child, you'd instantly be in love with the little baby in your hands.

"you're so easy to love." You murmur, and his eyebrows furrow, "i mean.. anyone could fall for you because of your loveable nature." You peck at the corner of his lips this time.

Zayne's response is silent as he's still bewildered by what you said. He's never considered himself to be someone that would make a woman fall madly in love with him, when all he's ever thought of loving was that one person he's known all his life, in every universe.

"Don't think about it so much," you look down at him from your side in this still night, with your arms moving to cage him in close, "I love you."

He's quite lucky to have someone like you in his life, you're too sweet and kind with your words. He's always known that.

He stares at you quietly for a moment before responding. "I love you, so much."

You both retire for the night, with your heart's content knowing there still is a long way to your marriage.

[ghstyles]

Firsts | FWFW extra

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WC: 5.2k

Summary: Harry and Y/N discuss the time they lost. They touch on ‘firsts’ they experienced, and Harry is upset he wasn’t there

Based on this ask

FWFW Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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The evening had settled into a comfortable rhythm, the way it often did these days. Three months into their reconciliation, Harry and Y/N had developed routines that felt at once new and achingly familiar. It was as though they were remembering rather than creating them.

Tonight found them in the library of their London home, a fire crackling in the hearth to ward off the November chill. Harry lounged on one end of the oversized leather sofa, his long legs stretched out before him, a half-empty glass of whiskey balanced on his knee. Y/N sat at the opposite end, her feet tucked beneath her, nursing a glass of red wine.

They'd been trading stories for the past hour, filling in the blanks of the decade they'd spent apart. It had started innocently enough with Harry recounting an early tour disaster involving a broken guitar string and an overzealous fan, Y/N sharing anecdotes about the various odd jobs she'd worked to support her family after her father's death.

As the night wore on and the drinks lowered their usual guards, the conversation had turned more personal, more vulnerable.

"Do you remember that summer when we were sixteen?" Y/N asked, swirling the remaining wine in her glass. "When your family rented the house by the lake?"

Harry's expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Course I do. That was the summer I taught you to swim properly."

Y/N laughed, the sound warm with memory. "You were such a show-off, diving off those rocks."

"Only because I wanted to impress you," Harry admitted, his gaze fond as it rested on her face. "Did it work?"

"Maybe a little," Y/N conceded with a smile. "Though I was more impressed when you stood up to those boys who were bothering me at the village festival."

Harry's expression darkened slightly at the memory. "Wankers," he muttered, taking a sip of his whiskey. "I wanted to do more than just tell them off."

"My hero," Y/N teased gently, reaching across to squeeze his ankle where it rested near her hip. "Even then."

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the occasional pop and crackle of the fire. Harry seemed lost in thought, his thumb absently tracing the rim of his glass.

"I thought about you," he said suddenly, his voice quieter than before. "After that summer. After my mother made sure we never returned to that house."

Y/N's heart squeezed at the admission. "I thought about you too," she confessed. "I kept expecting to see you the next summer, and the next. I didn't understand why you never came back."

Harry's jaw tightened, the familiar tension that always appeared when his mother was mentioned. "She knew I liked you. Said you were...a distraction. That I needed to focus on my future, not waste time with 'some village girl.'"

The bitterness in his voice was palpable, even after all these years.

"It wasn't just that summer, you know," Harry continued after a moment, his gaze fixed on the fire rather than her face. "I thought about you during all the big moments. My first major award, the first time I played Wembley...even stupid things, like the first time I got properly drunk or when I got my first tattoo."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, imagining a younger Harry carrying thoughts of her through the milestones of his extraordinary life.

"I wondered if you were watching," he admitted softly. "If you ever saw me on TV or in a magazine and thought about that summer too."

"I did," Y/N assured him, setting her wine glass on the coffee table so she could move closer to him on the sofa. "I saw everything. Your first album, that ridiculous haircut you had in 2014..."

Harry laughed, the sound breaking some of the tension that had built between them. "Hey, that hair was iconic," he protested, reaching out to tug gently on a strand of her own hair. "But seriously...you kept track of me?"

Y/N nodded, settling against his side as his arm came around her shoulders. "How could I not? You were everywhere. And then suddenly you were this massive star, and I was just..."

"Just what?" Harry prompted when she trailed off.

Y/N shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Just the girl who used to know you. Before."

Harry's arm tightened around her, pulling her more firmly against him. "You were never 'just' anything to me," he said firmly. "Even when I was being a total prick to you during those first months of our arrangement."

Y/N smiled against his shoulder, recognizing the apology wrapped in his words. "You had your moments," she acknowledged lightly.

They settled into another comfortable silence, Harry's fingers idly playing with the ends of her hair. The fire had died down slightly, casting the room in a soft, golden glow that made everything feel slightly dreamlike.

"What about your first?" Harry asked suddenly, the question seeming to surprise even him as it left his mouth.

Y/N lifted her head from his shoulder, brow furrowed in confusion. "My first what?"

A faint flush colored Harry's cheeks, visible even in the dim light. "Your first time," he clarified, his voice carefully neutral despite the intensity that had appeared in his eyes. "You never told me about that."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in topic. "Oh," she said, sitting up slightly. "Um, it was nothing special, really. I was nineteen, at university. His name was David and he was in my English literature course."

Something flickered across Harry's face. A tightening around his eyes, a slight clench of his jaw.

"Was he..." Harry began, then seemed to reconsider his words. "Were you together long?"

Y/N shook her head, increasingly aware of the tension radiating from Harry's body beside her. "A few months. He transferred to another university the following term."

Harry nodded, his expression still carefully controlled. "And after him?"

Y/N studied his face, beginning to understand the direction of his thoughts. "There were a few others," she admitted quietly. "Nothing serious. No one that lasted."

Harry's gaze dropped to his glass, his thumb resuming its restless circuit around the rim. "Right," he said, his voice slightly rougher than before. "Course there were."

Recognizing the hurt beneath his attempt at nonchalance, Y/N reached out to take the glass from his hand, setting it beside her wine on the coffee table before turning back to face him fully.

"Harry," she said gently, waiting until he looked at her. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture she'd come to recognize as a sign of discomfort or frustration.

"It's stupid," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"Tell me anyway," Y/N encouraged, placing a hand on his knee.

Harry was quiet for a long moment, his internal struggle visible in the furrow of his brow. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost reluctant.

"I just...I hate that I missed it," he admitted. "That someone else was your first. That I wasn't there."

The raw honesty in his voice made Y/N's heart ache. She moved closer, taking his hand in both of hers.

"Harry..."

"I know it's ridiculous," he continued, the words coming faster now. "I know it doesn't matter. I've been with other people too obviously. But sometimes I think about all those years we lost, all the firsts we could have had together, and it just..."

He trailed off, shaking his head as though frustrated by his inability to articulate the feeling.

"It hurts," Y/N finished for him softly.

Harry nodded, finally meeting her gaze. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "It fucking hurts."

Y/N shifted to straddle his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, bringing their faces level. She cradled his face in her hands, thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones.

"Listen to me," she said, her voice firm despite its softness. "Those people, David, the others, they weren't you. They were just...placeholders. Attempts to find something that felt half as real as what I felt with you during that one summer when we were sixteen."

Harry's hands came to rest on her waist, his grip tightening slightly at her words.

"Every relationship I had failed because none of them were you," Y/N continued, her gaze steady on his. "None of them made me feel the way you did, the way you do. They were first in chronology only, Harry. They were never first in my heart."

A flash of vulnerability crossed Harry's face, so raw and honest that it nearly took Y/N's breath away.

"Really?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. "Really," she confirmed. "And as for all that lost time..."

She pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze directly. "We have now," she reminded him. "We have tomorrow, and next week, and next year. We have all the time in the world to make new firsts together."

The tension in Harry's body began to ease, his hands sliding around to the small of her back, drawing her closer against him.

"What kind of firsts did you have in mind?" he asked, a hint of his usual playfulness returning to his voice.

Y/N smiled, relieved to see the darkness lifting from his expression. "Well, we've never been to Paris together," she suggested. "Or gone skiing. Or ran a marathon."

Harry's lips curved into a smile, his thumbs tracing small circles at the base of her spine. "Those all sound good," he agreed. "What about more immediate firsts?"

His meaning was clear in the sudden heat of his gaze, the slight shift of his body beneath hers. Y/N felt an answering warmth bloom low in her belly.

"I'm listening," she murmured, her fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Harry's smile turned wicked, his hands moving to cup her hips more firmly. "We've never made love in this library," he pointed out, his voice dropping to a register that sent shivers down Y/N's spine. "Seems like an oversight."

Y/N pretended to consider this, though her racing pulse betrayed her affected nonchalance. "The sofa is rather comfortable," she acknowledged.

"And the door locks," Harry added, his thumbs now slipping beneath the hem of her sweater to find the warm skin beneath.

Y/N leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "And I've never had sex in front of a fireplace before."

A low groan escaped Harry's throat, his hands tightening on her waist. "Now that," he said, his voice rough with desire, "is a first I'd very much like to remedy."

Without warning, he stood, lifting Y/N with him as though she weighed nothing. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her the short distance to the plush rug in front of the hearth.

He laid her down with unexpected gentleness, the firelight casting golden highlights across her skin as he helped her out of her sweater. His own shirt followed, revealing the familiar landscape of tattoos across his chest and arms.

As Harry settled over her, his weight supported on his forearms, Y/N reached up to trace the line of his jaw with her fingertips.

"I love you," she told him softly, the words still new enough to send a thrill through her when she said them. "Past, present, and future. All of it. Every version of you."

Something fierce and tender flashed in Harry's eyes as he bent to capture her lips in a kiss that spoke of possession, protection, and profound love. 

"You're mine now," he murmured against her mouth, his hand sliding down to grip her thigh, hitching it higher against his hip. "And I'm yours. And I plan to make up for every second of those ten years we lost."

Y/N arched beneath him as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Starting now?" she gasped, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

Harry lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as they met hers. "Starting now," he confirmed, his voice a low growl that promised delicious things to come. "And I'm going to take my fucking time about it."

As his mouth descended to her collarbone, then lower still, Y/N surrendered to the exquisite sensation of being thoroughly, completely loved by the man who had always held her heart, even during the years they'd spent apart.

Lost time could never be reclaimed, but new memories could be created—first upon first, moment upon moment, building a future together that would render the past nothing more than prologue to their real story.

And as Harry's talented mouth and hands drew gasps and then cries from her lips, Y/N knew with absolute certainty that their best firsts were still ahead of them.

---

Later, much later, they lay tangled together on the rug, a throw blanket hastily pulled from the sofa draped across their cooling bodies. The fire had burned down to embers, casting the room in a soft, red glow that made Harry's skin look like burnished gold where it pressed against hers.

His head rested on her chest, her fingers lazily combing through his tousled hair as their breathing gradually slowed to normal.

"That was definitely a first," Y/N murmured, amusement coloring her voice. "I don't think I've ever...quite like that..."

Harry chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin. "Told you I'd make it memorable," he said, pressing a kiss to the curve of her breast.

"Mmm, mission accomplished," Y/N assured him, stretching languidly beneath him. "Though I may never look at this library the same way again."

Harry propped himself up on one elbow, his expression smug as he surveyed the evidence of their passion. Clothing scattered across the rug, the cushions from the sofa knocked to the floor, and Y/N's wine glass miraculously still upright but entirely forgotten.

"Good," he said with satisfaction. "That was the plan."

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress her smile. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it," Harry countered, bending to steal another kiss.

"I do," Y/N agreed when they parted, her tone more serious. "I love all of you”

Something vulnerable flickered in Harry's eyes, a glimpse of the insecurity that had sparked their earlier conversation.

"Even though I wasn't your first?" he asked, his attempt at a light tone not quite masking the genuine question beneath.

Y/N reached up to cup his face, making sure he was looking directly at her when she replied. "You're my last," she told him firmly. "That's what matters."

The tension in Harry's expression eased, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Your last," he repeated, as though testing the weight of the words. "I like the sound of that."

Y/N smiled back, her thumb tracing the curve of his lower lip. "Besides," she added with deliberate lightness, "we have plenty of firsts still ahead of us."

"Like what?" Harry asked, settling back down beside her, his arm draped possessively across her waist.

Y/N pretended to consider, her fingers trailing along the tattoos on his forearm. "Well, there's our first Christmas together, properly together, I mean."

Harry nodded, his expression warming at the thought. "I've already got your gift," he admitted. "Been planning it for weeks."

“Harry...it's March,” Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "No hints?"

"Not a chance," Harry replied with a grin. "You'll just have to wait."

Y/N made a face at him, then continued her list. "There's our first anniversary, of this, I mean. Us being real."

"Three months down," Harry noted, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Lifetime to go."

The casual certainty with which he spoke of their future sent a warm glow spreading through Y/N's chest.

"Our first vacation together," she continued softly. "Our first home that we choose together, rather than just me moving into yours."

Harry's eyes brightened at that. "We could start looking," he suggested, his enthusiasm evident. "Something that's ours from the beginning."

Y/N smiled, touched by his eagerness. "I'd like that," she told him.

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the occasional pop from the dying fire. Harry's hand had begun a slow, absent-minded caress along her side, from ribs to hip and back again.

"You know," he said after a while, his voice thoughtful, "when I think about it now, maybe it's better this way."

Y/N turned her head to look at him, curious. "What do you mean?"

Harry shifted slightly, propping himself up again so he could see her face properly. "If we'd been each other's firsts back then, if we'd never lost those years, we might not appreciate what we have now as much."

Y/N considered this, surprised by the insight. "That's...actually quite profound," she acknowledged.

Harry's lips quirked in a self-deprecating smile. "Don't sound so shocked," he chided gently. "I do occasionally have deep thoughts."

Y/N laughed, stretching up to kiss the underside of his jaw. "I know you do," she assured him. "And you might be right. Maybe we needed those years apart to become the people who could make this work."

Harry nodded, his expression turning serious again. "I know I did," he admitted. "I was a mess after my first album took off. Arrogant, selfish...I wouldn't have been good for you then."

"And I was too lost after my father died," Y/N confessed quietly. "Too focused on taking care of my family to have anything left for anyone else."

Harry's hand found hers, their fingers intertwining on the blanket between them. "So maybe the timing is perfect," he suggested. "Maybe now is exactly when we were meant to find our way back to each other."

Y/N squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of rightness settle over her. "I think you might be right," she agreed softly. "Though I still wish..."

"What?" Harry prompted when she trailed off.

Y/N sighed, a wistful smile touching her lips. "I still wish I could have seen you perform for the first time," she admitted. "Your very first show. I bet you were terrified."

Harry laughed, the sound rich with memory. "Absolutely bricking it," he confirmed. "My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the microphone."

"I wish I'd been there," Y/N said, her tone tinged with regret.

Harry studied her face for a moment, then sat up abruptly, the blanket pooling around his waist. "Wait here," he instructed, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before standing.

Y/N watched in bemusement as he crossed the room naked, disappearing through the library door. She heard his footsteps on the stairs, then the distant sound of a drawer opening and closing.

A few minutes later he returned, a small black device in his hand. As he settled back beside her on the rug, Y/N recognized it as a portable hard drive.

"What's this?" she asked, sitting up and pulling the blanket around her shoulders.

Harry held up the drive, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. "I have videos," he explained. "From the early days. My mum filmed a lot of it, and then the label had people documenting everything once we started getting attention."

Y/N's eyes widened in understanding. "Including your first performance?"

Harry nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Including that," he confirmed. "And a lot of other firsts. First TV appearance, first award show, first stadium concert..."

He held out the drive to her, his expression suddenly vulnerable despite his earlier confidence. "I want you to see them," he told her quietly. "All of them. If you want to."

Y/N took the drive, cradling it in her palm as though it were infinitely precious—which, in many ways, it was. A record of all the moments she'd missed, offered now as a gift to bridge the gap of those lost years.

"Harry," she breathed, looking up at him with eyes that shimmered with unshed tears. "I don't know what to say."

He shrugged, though the casualness of the gesture was belied by the intensity in his gaze. "Say you'll watch them with me," he suggested. "Tomorrow night, maybe. We can order in, make a proper evening of it."

Y/N nodded, too moved to speak for a moment. When she found her voice again, it was thick with emotion. "I'd love that," she told him. "Thank you."

Harry's smile was soft, almost shy. "I want to share it all with you," he said simply. "Even the parts you couldn't be there for."

Y/N leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips that conveyed all the love and gratitude she couldn't quite put into words. When they parted, she brushed her thumb along his cheekbone, marveling at the man before her. So different from the boy she'd known, yet somehow still the same in all the ways that mattered.

"I love you," she told him, the words feeling both familiar and new each time she said them. "

Harry's arms came around her, pulling her against his chest as he lay back on the rug, bringing her with him. "And I love all of you," he murmured against her hair. "Yesterday, today, and every tomorrow we have coming."

As they lay together in the dying firelight, the hard drive safely set aside on the coffee table, Y/N felt the last lingering shadows of their time apart begin to recede. They couldn't reclaim the past, but they could share it with each other. It wasn't perfect. It was better than that. 

It was real.

Harry's expression had just begun to settle into contentment when Y/N shifted against him, propping herself up slightly to look at his face. Something in her eyes, a mixture of shyness and mischief, caught his attention immediately.

"What?" he asked, his lips curving into a curious smile. "You've got that look."

"What look?" Y/N countered, feigning innocence despite the telltale flush creeping up her cheeks.

Harry reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering against her skin. "The one that says you're about to either tell me something important or completely upend my world," he explained, his tone light but his eyes attentive. "Possibly both."

Y/N bit her lower lip, hesitating for a moment before she spoke.

"I was just thinking," she began, her fingers tracing abstract patterns on his chest, following the lines of his tattoos, "if it makes you feel any better about all those firsts we missed..."

She paused, meeting his gaze with a softness that made his breath catch.

"That day in the woods, right before you left for good. Remember that?"

A shadow of recognition passed over Harry's face, followed by something warmer, more intimate.

"Course I do," he said quietly, his hand coming up to cover hers where it rested against his heart. "Last day of summer. I snuck away from that ridiculous garden party my mum made me attend."

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing at her lips at the accuracy of his memory. "You wore that blue button-up shirt your mother insisted on, but you'd rolled the sleeves up and undone the top buttons the minute you were out of her sight."

Harry chuckled, the sound rumbling pleasantly beneath her palm. "Bloody thing was choking me," he recalled. "And it was so hot that day."

"It was," Y/N agreed, her eyes taking on a faraway look as she traveled back to that August afternoon. "We went to that clearing by the old oak tree. The one with the rope swing."

"Where you always refused to go higher than the second knot," Harry teased gently, his thumb stroking across her knuckles.

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her smile remained. "Some of us had a healthy respect for gravity, Harold."

His laugh was genuine this time, warming her from the inside out.

"We stayed out there for hours," she continued, her voice softening. "Just talking about nothing and everything. You told me your mum was making you go to some posh boarding school in the fall."

Harry's expression sobered slightly at the memory. "I didn't want to go," he admitted. "I begged her to let me stay at the local school, but she wouldn't hear of it."

"You were so angry," Y/N remembered. "I'd never seen you like that before."

Harry's jaw tightened briefly. "It wasn't just about the school," he confessed. "She'd told me that morning we wouldn't be coming back the next summer. That she'd found a 'more suitable' vacation spot in the South of France."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly. "You never told me that part."

"Didn't want to ruin our last day," Harry said with a small shrug that didn't quite disguise the old hurt. "Thought if I didn't say it out loud, maybe it wouldn't be real."

Y/N's heart ached for the sixteen-year-old boy he'd been, forced into a life he hadn't chosen, separated from the things, and people, that mattered to him.

"You looked so beautiful," Harry murmured, reaching up to cup her cheek. "The sun was setting behind you, turning your hair to gold, and I just...I couldn't help myself."

"You kissed me," Y/N whispered, turning her face slightly to press her lips against his palm. "Right there by the stream, with the crickets starting to sing and the fireflies just beginning to come out."

Harry's thumb brushed across her bottom lip, his eyes tracking the movement. "Best decision I ever made," he said softly.

Y/N met his gaze steadily, her heart racing as she prepared to share the piece of herself she'd kept tucked away all these years.

"It was my first," she told him quietly. "My first kiss, Harry."

For a moment, Harry went completely still, his eyes widening fractionally as her words registered.

"What?" he breathed, searching her face as though looking for confirmation that he'd heard her correctly.

Y/N nodded, a shy smile curving her lips. "You were my first kiss," she repeated. "I'd never kissed anyone before that moment."

A complex mix of emotions flickered across Harry's face. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, sitting up slightly, bringing them even closer together. "I would have—I don't know, made it more special or something."

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head at his concern. "It was already perfect," she assured him, reaching up to smooth the furrow from his brow. "You were perfect."

Harry caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm that made her breath catch.

"I had no idea," he said, his voice tinged with wonder. "I thought—I assumed you must have kissed other boys before me."

Y/N shook her head again. "There was only you," she told him softly. "I was shy, remember? And none of the boys at school made me feel the way you did."

Something fierce and tender flashed in Harry's eyes at her admission.

"So I was your first," he said, a note of satisfaction entering his voice as he pulled her closer, until she was practically in his lap, the blanket slipping to pool around their waists.

"You were my first," Y/N confirmed, her arms sliding around his neck. "And if things had been different—if your mother hadn't taken you away, if we'd had the chance..."

She didn't need to finish the thought. The understanding that passed between them was perfect and complete.

"You would have been my only," Harry murmured, completing her unspoken sentence. "My first and my last."

Y/N nodded, suddenly finding it difficult to speak around the lump in her throat.

Harry drew her impossibly closer, his forehead resting against hers, their breath mingling in the small space between them.

"I didn't know," he said again, his voice rough with emotion. "That day, that kiss, it meant everything to me. But knowing I was your first..."

He trailed off, clearly struggling to articulate the depth of what he was feeling.

"Does it help?" Y/N asked softly, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Knowing you were the first person to kiss me?"

Harry pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his green eyes dark and serious. "It shouldn't matter," he admitted. "It's ridiculous that it does. But..."

"But it does," Y/N finished for him, understanding completely.

Harry nodded, a small, almost sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah," he agreed. "It does."

His hand came up to cup the back of her head, drawing her in for a kiss that was at once achingly tender and possessively claiming. When they parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against hers once more.

"You were fifteen," he murmured, a hint of teasing entering his voice. "Practically ancient for a first kiss."

Y/N laughed, lightly smacking his shoulder. "Excuse me for having standards," she retorted.

Harry's answering laugh was warm against her skin. "High standards," he agreed, his hands sliding down to her waist. "The highest."

"I was waiting for someone worth waiting for," Y/N told him, her tone light but her words utterly sincere.

Something in Harry's expression shifted, the teasing fading into something more profound.

"Thank you for telling me," he said quietly, brushing a soft kiss against her temple. "It means more than you know."

Y/N nodded, understanding the complex tangle of emotions behind his simple words. The pride, the possessiveness, the bittersweet joy of knowing he'd been her first in at least one significant way.

"I wanted you to know," she told him softly. "That even though we lost all those years, even though there were others after you...you were still my first. The one that mattered most."

Harry's arms tightened around her, his face buried in the curve of her neck. For a moment, they simply held each other, the weight of the past and the promise of the future suspended between them.

"I love you," Harry murmured against her skin, the words simple but weighted with everything he felt for her. "I think I've loved you since that day by the stream."

Y/N's hand came up to cradle the back of his head, her fingers gentle in his hair. "I love you too," she whispered. "I always have."

As they sank back down onto the rug, their bodies entwining with renewed purpose, Y/Nx knew that this, what they shared now, was worth every moment of waiting, every heartache of separation. They might have missed some firsts, but the ones they'd shared had shaped them both in ways neither could fully articulate.

And as Harry's lips found hers again, she knew with absolute certainty that the best firsts, their firsts, together, were still to come.

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

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[cuteandhughesy]

Ceilings╰┈➤ LH43 (part 2/2)

summary: you are a bet for luke and his friends, but that doesn't stop you two from actually falling in love, luke just prays you never find out the truth

[word count] 21.4K (total)

warnings: NSFW! frenemies to lovers | relationship betting | fake dating | college!au | umich!luke | angst | suggestive themes | kissing | smut | oral (female receiving) | fingering | protected!p in v intercourse | light breast play | read at your own discretion.

🎵ceilings by lizzy mcalpine, too well by renee rapp, promise by laufey, you and me by niall horan, say don't go by taylor swift, look after you by the fray, sofia by clario, you're just a guy by avery lynch, like real people do by hozier, + unwritten by natasha bedingfield

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

part seven: the kiss one week after matt

you never got texts from ethan edwards. mark texted you often when he was hanging with ariana, usually when her phone had died and he was letting you know her plans. rutger was usually sending you memes (that only he found funny) and anytime he wanted to know where luke was. dylan when he needed reassurance on homework- but ethan...never.

which is why when you finished your late shift at work and finally checked your phone in the comfort of your car: you were confused and slightly worried.

ethan edwards

something happened. can you come by after work?

his question had you feeling a bit panicked.

y/n

yeah, i'm on my way

you didn't ask questions, because you were to anxious to know the answers. getting there in record time, you parked your car on the curb by their house, jogging up the steps and knocking on the door rather frantically.

"hey," you say as ethan opens the door, "what's wrong?"

"hi," he says, letting you come inside. "after the third period tonight, there was some pushing and shoving, the other team started it. and this one guy pushed luke hard, and he fell and hit the ice. he's got a minor concussion. the doctor said he'll be good for playoffs in two weeks but right now...he's a big whiny baby and he kept asking for you," ethan breathes, "I didn't want to worry you too bad, but I wanted to get you over here so I can stop hearing about how much he misses you."

you're pretty sure you flush deep red at ethan's words, but you do a good job at keeping yourself collected. "okay," you sigh, "is he still upstairs?"

ethan nods, "yeah, he's in his room."

you nod without another word, making your way up the small staircase towards the second floor of the home.

luke's bedroom door is slightly ajar, and you knock once and peek your head through the gap, "luke?"

his room was empty.

you frown, and start walking further down the hall. you try not to overthink and make yourself sick with worry, thoughts of a missing luke were the last thing you needed. after all, you think, he could've been in the kitchen unknowingly to you or ethan - grabbing snacks or a drink. you glance over your shoulder to see if you catch him coming upstairs, but only find yourself running into a body.

you gasp, turning to face the chest you ran into. luke grabs ahold of your arms, a gentle smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you.

at the sight of him, you body relaxes and you let out a breath you hasn't realized you'd been holding. "luke." you state gently.

"hi there," he says lightly, hands still holding onto your biceps to keep your in place. "you okay? you look worried."

"ethan texted me all frantic so I raced over here -almost hit a squirrel, by the way. and then you weren't in your room and i panicked thinking the concussion was worse than ethan said -"

"you were worried about me?" he asks you. you stop your rambling, expecting a teasing smirk and knowing gleam in his eyes, but he's only looking at you with fondness.

you swallow, "yeah."

"I just had to go to the bathroom," he admits, thumbing behind his shoulder to the open bathroom door.

"how are you feeling?" you ask gently. he lets go of your arms fully, and you try not to dwell on the emptiness you feel without his touch.

luke shrugs, "eh, i'll be okay."

you nod once more, eyes briefly meeting the floor. "I hope it's okay that ethan texted me. he does think we are dating to be fair, which we can stop now, if you want...god, sorry I'm rambling-" you look up towards his face and he looks at you with such admiration your stomach is swooping.

"well, I was the one who told him I wanted you here - so i'm glad he messaged you." luke admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck like he's nervous. luke was nervous around you. "so don't apologize," he says softly, "don't think I don't want you here, because I do." almost hesitantly, luke reaches towards you and tucks a piece of loose hair behind your ear.

you gulp slightly, eyes searching his face to try and read him. "you do?"

he nods, "is that okay? that I want you here?"

subconsciously, you shuffle closer to him in the dim lighting of the upstairs hallway. "more than okay." you grab ahold of three long fingers, gently tugging his hand closer towards you. you look up at him gently, tongue jutting out to wet your bottom lip.

he blushes and swallows gently. "let's go to my room."

"why?" you ask gently, and you pray the hopefulness of your words aren't too obvious.

"because I don't want somebody to walk up here when I'm kissing you."

you can't help but smile slightly at his words, pushing impossibly closer to his chest. you drop his hand in favour of pressing on his abs. "I don't care if they see, I can't wait any longer."

luke smiles, reaching forward to gently hold your face, tilting your head back until you're at the perfect angle for him to lean down and connect your mouths together. although he looked nervous earlier, the kiss doesn't have any traces of that. his lips move against yours softly but skillfully, slotting with yours like you've kissed a million times before this.

suddenly, everything made sense. anytime you had been talking to matthew - that feeling of warmth you had in your stomach was because luke was always there with you. meeting up with luke wasn't enjoyable because you were talking about matthew, it was enjoyable because of luke and luke only. stupid hockey players.

slowly, he pulls away. forehead pressed against yours as you regain breathing. you peek at him, and see him with closed eyes, brows pulled together.

you frown gently, one of your hands sneaking up to caresses the side of his face."did that hurt your head?"

his eyes snap open and he stands to his full height. the way you ask the question so genuinely makes luke feel like he's healed. he smirks lazily down at you, "no -i'm feeling really good."

"oh my god," you shake your head in disbelief, but you're blushing and smiling at him anyways.

and then, you push up on your toes and nudge your nose against his. luke gets the hint immediately, and kisses you again. the second kiss is a bit messier, and you both keep smiling into each other mouths. one of luke's hands slides to hold the back of your head, and the other wraps around your waist.

"fuck, my bad."

you and luke pull apart quickly. looking behind you, you see ethan covering his eyes, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

"hold on, this is a common area," his hand falls from his face, "yall need to go luke's room before this escalates any further - i don't want to see anything too crazy."

"alright, alright," luke interrupts his friend with a breathy chuckle, "we're going."

once you and luke get to his bedroom and he shuts the door, he looks at you a little sheepishly, not meeting your eyes for too long before looking away.

you break the tension, "so you kiss all your fake girlfriends ? or just me?"

luke laughs, and all nerves from before have gone. the sight of your face and blush has him feeling more than relaxed. he reaches towards you, hands landing on your cheeks. "only the ones i'm falling for."

you smile softly, eyes sparking at his confession. "and how many have you fallen for?" your words are a whisper between you.

luke pretends to ponder for a moment, but his smile gives him away. "I think...just you."

you felt yourself blush deeper - because, oh my god, was this actually happening. you hold onto his wrist, keeping luke's hands on your face. "good, because it would've been awkward if I was the only one who was falling."

he cracks a big grin at your words. without another second, luke kisses you again. "I can't believe it took a concussion for you to admit your feelings."

"don't start with me, luke."

you kiss him again.

again.

and again.

you had stayed the night at luke's and drove home in the morning before your first class. you actually shared the class with jacob, so you agreed to ride together.

before you could leave, luke kissed you in the threshold of the front door - for all his roommates to see. a few wolf whistled, jacob faux gagging behind your back.

you pull away with a bashful smile, leaving with jacob for class. luke watches you leave, his own smile adorning his face.

once your car pulled off his street, luke sighed.

wordlessly, he moves towards the sectional in the living room, sitting with mark and dylan. ethan and rutger give each other an amused look, but don't do anything other than smirk.

dylan breaks the ice, "looks like we get to do rutgers hair soon."

luke looks beside him at his good friend with a puzzled look, "what?"

"the bet," ethan interrupts. "she's totally in love with you."

"have you hit it yet though? that was apart of it."

luke laughs once awkwardly, "maybe we should call the bet off?" he suggests and rutger laughs. "I mean with everything that's happened with matt and-"

rutger interrupts, not talking in his teammates words. "what happened with matt sucks - absolutely and that asshole is being kicked out, but that has nothing to do with the bet."

"I just don't want her to get hurt." luke admits vulnerably.

"she won't get hurt," rutger says, "she's never gunna know. the bet is still on. it's really not that deep." rutger says, taking a sip of his protein smoothie. "and then you can just break it off when this is all over - just like a normal relationship."

but it is that deep, luke thinks. this isn't just some random girl anymore - it's you. the girl he's falling in love with.

"he probably hasn't hit it yet, doesn't want to loose." ethan chuckles wearily, very obviously trying to break the tension between the teammates. mark sends him a look, but luke doesn't catch it.

the defence man stands from his seat. "i'm not feeling well, i'm going to lay down."

luke has never felt guilt like the guilt he is feeling right now. why did he take the stupid bet.

luke was never expecting you to actually fall for him. that first day when he proposed the idea, he was hoping sure, shaving rutgers head would be comical, and maybe you would end up liking him, maybe, but now he was sure he was actually in love with you. he couldn't tell you about the bet now, it would've been different if you and matt ended up together - but now it was you and luke. he's so screwed.

part eight: the first time

luke has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, fingers toying with the ends of your hair. the two of you are watching tiktok's on his phone, laughing together in the comfort of his bedroom.

just as another funny video finishes, luke laughs, rolling his head into the side of your face to stifle his laughter. every time he does that, your stomach does jumping jacks at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin.

he scrolls after the two of your regain your composure but almost immediately, your attention is drawn to the snapchat notification that comes through at the top of his phone screen.

amy is typing...

amy sent you a chat!

even her bitmoji was pretty - long blonde hair, bright eyes and she was pretty much a hockey players type on paper. she was another ariana and your face drops.

luke can feel your body stiffen and he looks over at you. "you okay?"

you nod, cuddling deeper into your oversized hoodie. he either didn't see the notification or he just didn't care. at first, you don't want to say anything - because like technically, luke hasn't asked to be exclusive. but your heart wins, and you decide to speak up. "who's amy?" you try to ask it nonchalantly after a moment of silence.

"some girl ethan used to hang out with - she wants to hook up with me."

"oh." you huff.

"i've never though, hooked up with her, I mean!" luke says quickly. you can hear the phone click off, and suddenly luke is turned fully towards you. "don't worry, I've been meaning to remove her anyways."

"am I pretty enough to be with a hockey player?" you ask it quietly, fear of your embarrassment consuming you.

"what?" luke says it so softly, hand moving up to tuck a piece of your dark hair behind your ear. "you're too beautiful to even be thinking like that."

"oh," you blush, "I didn't know that you thought that."

"of course I think that," luke sort of laughs in his exhale, "how I managed to get you to like me is just insane."

you smile, "well I think you're like the hottest guy ever so..."

luke rushes forward to kiss you, his hands holding onto your face delicately as his lips move against your own. you moan into it, hand resting on his chest to keep yourself grounded.

he rolls fully on top of you, arms bracketing around the sides of your head. his lips move down your neck, sucking and kissing your sensitive skin until you're moaning out. you pull him back up to your mouth, your hands then sliding down and slipping under his shirt, feeling his toned muscles beneath your finger tips.

"take this off," you breathe, tugging on his t-shirt. he nods, sitting back and pulling off his shirt. you're smirking up at him all pretty and luke can feel himself throb. he leans back down, lifting the hem of your hoodie until he sees the soft skin of your belly. he keeps pushing up the top, kissing any new skin that is revealed until he reaches your bra.

your breathing heavy under him, legs spread to accommodate his body between them. "can I take it off?" he asks and you nod, letting him pull off the sweater and toss it on the floor beside his bed. in your sat up position, you unhook your bra, letting luke nudge down the straps until you're completely naked from the waist up, bra joining your hoodie in a pile.

"you're so beautiful," luke says, mouth moving to kiss you again. it isn't long before your lazily unbuckled his belt, letting the leather fall open to reveal the button of his jeans.

"luke," you whisper against his lips and he looks at you, eyes glazed and cheeks rosy. he nods. "take off my pants."

he's nodding even quicker at your words and you giggle. at your laugh he smirks down at you, one hand grabbing your waistband and pulling down your leggings until they reach your ankles. he climbs down your body, using both hands to take them off from around your ankles, taking your socks with them.

luke kisses the side of your ankle and your sitting up on your elbows, watching as his kisses move higher up your leg, right until he's where you need him the most. he doesn't touch you yet, eyes glancing up to meet yours. "please touch me lukey."

he doesn't need to be told twice. he kisses you clit over your underwear first and your mouth hangs open at the touch, head rolling back slightly. luke hooks two fingers and pulls your panties to the side, immediately using his tongue to collect your arousal, dragging up to your clit and sucking.

you moan out, probably too loudly for not being home alone, but neither of you care too much in that moment.

he uses his two fingers and plunges them into you, adding to your pleasure. he pulls your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access and you more pleasure. it isn't long before your gripping his hair, stomach tightening from his mouth. "luke, i'm gunna-"

you cum, clamping on his fingers as he brings you through your orgasim. he removes his mouth from you and sit up. you try not to moan when you see his face, your juices covering his chin and lips. "you're so hot," he breathes out, letting you grab his face and pull him into a lazy kiss, tongues swirling together in a hot make out.

"your pants next," you say, fingers already unzipping his jeans. he smirks, standing up so he could properly remove his clothes, pants and boxers meeting his shirt on the floor. he's crawling up over you again, and just as he's reaching your mouth, you push him down, straddling his hips.

"god," luke says breathlessly, eyes watching as you slide yourself over his dick. he was so painfully hard he thinks he might combust. "i'm not gunna last if you keep doing that."

you giggle. "you got a condom?"

he nods, " yeah...my, umm, in my drawer." you lean over, giving luke the perfect view of your boobs. he puts his mouth around on your nipples and grind down on him automatically, fingers grabbing the condom quickly before sitting up straight again.

he takes it from you, tearing it open with his teeth. you rise off him just enough so he can slide the condom on. immediately, you take him in your hand, lining him up with your entrance before sinking down, taking him all at once.

you both moan in unison. "you're so good for me," luke says, hands massaging your hips as you start to move, rolling against him, your clit hitting his pelvis with every movement.

"you're so big," you whine, hands pushing on his strong chest as you bounce on him. "fuck."

"you're doing so good," luke praises, thumb rubbing your bundle on nerves. he can feel your walls clench around him.

"i'm gunna cum again," you moan, still jumping on his dick roughly.

"that's it, baby, come for me."

it's only a few more bounces before your faltering, cumming hard around his cock, legs shaking as you slow.

luke brackets you in his arms, flipping you onto your back beneath him. he kisses you slow before he starts to move again, pounding into your pussy in search of his own high. "you feel so good," he says.

your hands run up his back, up into his hair. "yeah?"

"i'm close."

"come for me," you say, legs tightening around his waist as his hips splutter, spilling his load into the condom with a groan. "fuck," he says breathlessly.

and then he's kissing you again, slow and lazily as he pumps into you a couple more times. you both moan at the feeling of him pulling out.

he's on his knees, pulling off his condom before tying it and tossing it in his trashcan. you lay on his bed, staring at him breathlessly, a lazy smile on your lips, cheeks flushed.

"i'm gunna go to the bathroom," he says, pulling on a pair of sweatpants, "do you need anything? water? are you hungry?"

"i'm okay," you say gently and he smiles, moving back towards you and giving you a chaste kiss.

"i'll be right back," he says against your mouth and you nod.

you get dressed while he's gone, raiding his closet for a pair of sweatpants before climbing back into his bed. luke returns a few minutes later with a mug of water and a bag of chips and you smile to yourself.

after putting everything on his nightstand, he's crawling back into bed, shirt long forgotten. he pulls you into him, kissing your head. "you're amazing," he tells you.

you look up at him, "you're good at that you know."

he smirks, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, "what can I say?"

you laugh loudly, flicking his peck.

he kisses you once again. a deep hard one that has you exhaling gently, stomach swooping.

"coach texted while I was downstairs," luke says once he pulls away. the tone of his voice is definitely off and it has you furrowing your brows.

"everything okay?"

"yeah," he says, "just reminding us about the playoff schedule and like the extra practices."

"oh," you frown, "okay...what's wrong? you look worried."

he ignores how easily you can read his face. "I'm just...this is the first year of playoffs where I have two brothers playing in the NHL and they're both kicking ass..i'm worried that I won't be good enough. like, I'll just suck and let my team down - I don't want them to expect too much because I can't preform like jack or quinn."

"what? don't say that," you say, leaning up on your elbow so you can look into his eyes properly "luke...don't even think like that. I don't know much about hockey but even I know you're like stupid good at it. your team isn't expecting you to be your brothers - there expecting you. because being  you is just what they need."

he's looking at you all soft again and you run a hand through his head of curls "i'm glad you said that." he whispers.

"i'm happy you told me how you were feeling," you say immediately, "you're going to play amazing lukey."

luke smirks, wrapping his hands around your waist. "I will if you're by my side," he kisses you once quickly.

"you're my favourite hughes brother," you tease him and he laughs hard.

"I better be," he smirks, "I'm the one who put his dick in you-"

you place a hand over his mouth and giggle.

part nine: the game

"are you sure nobody can cover your shift?" luke asked you for the third time this day. you signed and rolled over to your stomach, head resting on your crossed arms. "I really want you to come baby."

"that's really nice, lukey, but I'm working." you said, running your hand through his head of curls. luke groaned, rolling off his stomach and onto his side, effectively turning his back on you.

"you can't be mad at me." you said.

"I'm not." he grumbled, back still turned.

you rolled your eyes. "look at me." you ordered him, and he did so reluctantly, flipping sides so he could see you. "I'll be watching from the tv at work, cheering you on."

"I know you will," luke says, "it's just playoffs and all the other guys girlfriends will be there and...I don't know."

you can't help but smile, "oh so i'm your girlfriend now?"

his eyes jolt up to look into yours and once he sees your playful expression. "well, yeah."

"oh I didn't know that." you shrug nonchalantly. you can't keep your expression at bay when luke jumps up, rolling you into your back and tackling you, kissing your face until your giggling. you grab luke's face to stop his attack, placing one deep kiss onto his lips, reluctantly pulling away.

he sighs again, "I wish you could be there."

"me too," you admit. "but you'll play great regardless, I know it."

he smirks, "I'd play better if you were there." you give him a look and he laughs, kissing your neck once, "I know, you have to work."

"how about I give you something else instead?" you say seductively, fingers trailing down his shirt before brushing against his waistband.

"what did you have in mind?" he inquires, a raise to his brows.

you don't say anything, instead you kiss him, hands trailing back up to hold his face to yours. you feel his hands wrap around the small of your back, slightly lifting you off the mattress. you sigh into the kiss and you can feel him smirk.

he pulls away from you, sitting up on his knees so he could take his shirt off. you bit your lip, hand touching his abs briefly before he's lifting your shirt off, revealing your gray bra. immediately, he's coming back down, ripping down one your bra cups and attacking your nipple with his mouth. your mouth hangs open in pleasure, hissing when the cold air hits your one boob while he's moving to the next one. "luke, please." you're not even sure what your asking for, but he's up immediately, tugging your leggings down your legs before discarding his own pants and boxers with them.

it's been a week since you and luke fucked for the first time, and you guys have done it many times since then, but his size never fails to impress you.

he leans back over you, grabbing one of his pillows and shoving it under your hips, all while you stroke his dick. he thrusts into your hand with a groan. "fuck, baby."

it's your turn to smirk, "put it in me lukey, before I have to leave."

he pulls your string underwear to the side, revealing your glistening wetness. he leans over you to grab a condom, ripping it open and rolling it on. he slides into you then, and you both moan out. he starts thrusting and your moans continue to get louder and more frequent until luke puts a hand over your mouth, "people are home," he says but you can't focus, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure.

luke's breathing is heavy as he's thrusting, your body jolting with every move, sending you up the bed from the force. he grabs your leg, lifting it so it can rest on his shoulder. the new angle sends you both into a new realm of pleasure, your moans silenced by his hand, luke's grunts falling into the crook of your neck.

"i'm gunna cum soon," you whine, finger blindly finding your clit to rub it. luke pushed your hand away, his own thumb replacing your fingers. "me too," he grunts.

you cum hot and loud, your walls clamping down on his cock while he continues thrusting. a moment later, his rythym picks up, hips spluttering as he releases his load into the condom.

you two catch your breath for a moment before you speak, "I thought there was no sex on game days?"

he sends you a look with raised brows, "you started it."

you scoff, "I was just gunna give you a hand job," you giggle.

he smiles, "well if we loose blaming you."

you scoff, "rude."

he pulls out of you, discarding the condom before the two of you start getting dressed (and if you have to throw out your underwear because you were too wet, that's nobody's business.)

"I should go," you say, "I work in 2 hours and I have to shower now," you send your boyfriend a look and he just smirks, flexing his arm in your direction, which has you rolling your eyes.

"yeah, I gotta head to the rink soon," he agrees.

you nod, stepping towards him and pushing up on your tip toes, to which he leans down, giving you a brief kiss. "have a good game," you whisper and he sighs.

"I will."

you get home 10 minutes later and ariana is sitting on the couch, waiting for you. "hey," you say, kicking off your shoes at the entry way.

"hey," she says, "what took you so long?"

you shrug, "we lost track of time."

ariana studies your appearance and then puts two and two together, "I don't know if i'm angry because we were supposed to start getting ready 10 minutes ago...or if i'm jealous because you just got railed and I didn't."

you laugh.

"anyways," she shakes her head, "mark dropped this off twenty minutes ago," she tosses you a jersey and you smile upon seeing the material. you unfold it, holding it up to see the back, which read: hughes 43.

"he is going to be so surprised," you settle on.

ariana smiles, "he really has no idea you're coming?"

"no," you smirk, "he thinks I have to work. i'll have to thank mark for stealing this for me."

"yeah," your friend agrees, "okay, i'm gunna start getting ready, but you like, need a shower...you smell like sex."

you laugh in disbelief at her and ariana giggles with you. "I was planning on it," you state, "I'll be back." you say before jogging upstairs for a much needed shower.

it wasn't long before it was time for the two of you to head over to the wolverines arena. luke had texted you before your supposed shift was suppose to start, once again wishing you could be at his game. if only he could see you right now.

the boys had already finished warmups when the two of you arrived. the only available seats were near the back, which was good; you didn't want luke to see you and feel distracted for the game. the wolverines had taken the ice for the first period not long after you sat down. you have never been to a hockey game before, and even though luke has tried to teach you the rules, the game was too fast, leaving ariana having to explain what offside was 5 times before the third period.

the game ended with a win for game 1 for the wolverines, and you never thought you would be cheering for your hockey playing boyfriend at a hockey game: but here you were. you and ariana had waited for most of the crowd to disappear before walking down to wait by the locker room, just like the rest of family and other girlfriends of the team.

you're not waiting too long before you see mark and rutger emerge from the locker room, who grin at one another when they see you. luke follows behind, too busy chatting with ethan to even see that you're there. but ethan sees you, nudging luke until he looks up.

"what the -" he smiles, rushing forward to wrap you in a hug. "I thought you were working."

you laughed, "I lied."

he pulls away from the hug and you let him give you a quick kiss. "I hate you," he laughs.

"you don't," you smile up at him.

"no," he whispers, "I really don't."

"alright love birds, are we going out to eat or what? i'm fucking starving and I'm desperate for some 5 guys." rutger groans, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

you and everybody else agree, 5 guys sounds heavenly. luke wraps his arm around you shoulders as you all leave, the two of you falling a few steps behind your friends.

"where'd you get this?" his hand that's resting your your arm plucks the material of your jersey.

you look up at him, "mark stole it for me. does it look good?"

he takes your hand and twirls you around, much to your dismay, but you're laughing anyways. "you always look so hot in my clothes, even when it's sweatpants and a tshirt." in that moment you think back to the party, before you and luke got together, back when you pushed your feelings for him deep down: the night when you had to change out of your dirty uniform and into his clothes. look at you now. "if you think i'm not fucking you in that jersey, you're wrong."

you gasp in shock, hitting his chest. but he just smirks down at you, the two of you continuing your way to the car.

part ten: the truth

you're standing in the kitchen of luke's home, pouring yourself and luke another drink while he and the rest of his teammates party: the guys had a healthy amount of people over to celebrate the win of the first playoff game. there's another girl in the kitchen with you, a brunette that rutger has been hooking up with - she's really sweet, a little dipsy, but who are you to judge.

the two of you are chatting amongst yourselves when somebody else enters the kitchen. you glance over your shoulder to see luke, cheeks rosy from the alcohol and smile bright as he spots you. "what's taking so long?" luke asks you, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

"i'm just chatting with lacey," you laugh at his drunken state, the way he was clinging onto you - he was so cute.

"okay, well, come back...I miss you," he lazily kisses your cheek three times and lacey has to laugh behind the rim of her plastic cup.

"okay, okay," you giggle, "i'll come socialize if...you go upstairs and plug my phone in for me?" you turn to luke with a hopeful grin and luke playfully rolls his eyes, plucking your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

"anything for you baby," he says, leaving you to make his way upstairs.

"wow," lacey says, "you have him wrapped around your finger." she observes. you shrug nonchalantly, but that doesn't stop your smile and cheeks from blushing. "you love him?"

you are kind of shocked at her question because what? it's only been two months- almost three since you've started hanging out with luke. but then yeah, you think, how could you not love luke. In a world full of boys he's the gentleman. so, "yeah," you say, "I think I do."

she giggles, "rutger must be devastated then."

you furrow yours brows, "what? why?"

she quirks a brow, "the bet. he mentioned the guys get to style his hair or cut it...whatever: if he lost the bet." lacey can see the confused look on your face and squints at you, "you know, the bet."

"I don't know about a bet." you say hesitantly.

"the one he made with luke," she says it nonchalantly, organizing all the bottles of liquor as she talks, "that if luke could make a girl fall in love with him by playoffs, they get to style or cut rutgers hair however they want- you know how he is about his hair," she laughs. "and if he couldn't, luke had to dish up $200, but clearly, he could do it. you're in love."

when you don't respond, lacey looks over to you, only to see your eyes trained on the counter, a look of anger settled on your face. lacey gulps, "I thought luke would've told you."

"will you excuse me," without waiting for her response you storm out of the kitchen. you don't see luke in the living room: he must be upstairs still with your phone. you're pretty sure mark calls your name, he can probably tell something is wrong by your face, but you ignore him, stomping up the stairs and pushing open luke's bedroom door, slamming it shut behind you.

"jesus," luke chuckles, "you scared me." he turns to look at you and his face drops when he sees the look on yours. "hey, what's wrong?-"

"I'm a bet," you seethe, interrupting him. even in the dim light of his bedroom you can see his face pale, his body tensing. he doesn't say anything, just stares at you until you become angrier. "was I just a bet? answer me."

luke knows he's caught, "yeah," he whispers, "i'm sorry." he stutters.

"god," you say while your knees buckle slightly and your eyes start to water. "so this whole time - everything we've done together was all so you could save yourself fucking $200! what the fuck luke!"

"what? no, that's not it."

you weren't listening to him. "is that why you offered to help me with matt? so you could try and crack me? just get me in your bed? huh, luke. tell me the truth."

he goes to reach out to you but you send a lethal glare in his direction so he retracts his hand. "I thought that if we were seen spending more time together- my roommates would think we were dating so then I came the fake dating idea and - y/n I didn't want to hurt you."

your lip wobbles. "that's why I couldn't tell anybody we were only fake dating, right? because then your little plan might get messed up?" all luke can do is muster up a nod. "the reason you started talking to me at that party...was because you were trying to get me to like you? so what, was I was just the first girl you saw?"

"rutger got to choose. he chose you because you don't date hockey players." his words are a whisper and you laugh in disbelief.

"oh my god! so what, flirting with me, kissing me, dating me, sleeping with me, was that all apart of the bet too?"

he's looking deep into your eyes, the guilt evident in his face. he looks down towards the hardwood then, no guts to keep your eye contact "ethan he umm, said I had to sleep with the girl - but that's not why I slept with you, y/n!"

you sigh and your legs give out, sending you to the ground as a sob rips through your chest. luke drops down to his knees infront of you, and you don't have the energy to push him off when his hands touch your knees. "did I really mean less than $200? why did you lie to me?"

luke's lip trembles slightly. "no, no! you mean everything to me, baby. I haven't even thought of that stupid bet in forever! I didn't flirt with you, or kiss you or fucking sleep with you because of the bet! I did it because you're my girlfriend."

"I wouldn't be your girlfriend if it wasn't for a bet, luke. I can't believe this...I thought ...," you sob again and luke can feel his own eyes well up watching you cry.

"please forgive me," he whispers, "I hate myself for what I did. I should've told you."

"god and your roommates! they all know, have they just been making fun of me this whole time? that's why they were always watching us! and why you needed me to act like we were together in front of them! the basketball game...the parties....stupid me, right, falling for a guy who was just going to discard me."

"I wasn't going to discard you!"

"were you ever going to tell me? even if i didn't find out?" luke stays silent and your lip wobbles as you look at him. his silence is enough of an answer for you. "I hate you," you whisper.

"please don't say that," he says, "please, can we just talk about this."

"we've talked enough, luke. I can't even stand you right now," you spit. "i'm going home."

"please don't. just stay and in the morning we can-"

"no, luke!," you snap, "we're done. enjoy cutting rutgers hair," you laugh in disbelief as you're standing up and luke can't even register you leaving until you're out the door, slamming it on your way out.

you start walking down the hall, tears falling down your cheeks. at the top of the stairs, you spot rutger, a guilty look on his face. you're not sure if he overheard you and luke or if lacey had told him she spilled the beans, regardless, you pause and look him dead in the eye, "screw you."

he sighs and starts to apologize but you brush past him, making your way down the stairs and out the house. the front door open and closes behind you, alerting you that somebody has followed you outside, but you don't look behind yourself.

"y/n," mark calls out, "let me drive you home."

"did you know?!" you spin around forcefully, eyes full of anger. "about the bet."

"please just let me drive you home." he sighs, "it's a far walk and...you're drunk."

you don't feel like fighting anymore so you just nod, a sob ripping from your lungs as mark leads you to his car.

a knock sounds on luke's bedroom door and he wipes his eyes briefly, just in case any tears had fallen. he opens the threshold to see rutger. "I really don't want to talk right now," luke says.

rutger sighs, "I should've let you call it off dude. i'm sorry, I didn't think it would be this bad..."

"well it is!," luke says powerfully, "it so fucking bad dude! i've lost the only girl i've ever loved and only because of your stupid bet!"

"I know," rutger says, "dude, I said I was sorry."

"yeah, I know," luke scoffs, "just...leave. get out. I need to be alone." he says and rutger just nods. he apologizes once more before he leaves but luke ignores him, letting him go with nothing but the shut of the door.

lukey 😍 (12:47)

y/n, i'm sorry. please let's talk

tomorrow

lukey 😍 (12:50)

please

lukey 😍 (12:52)

I fucked up but please give me

a chance to ask for your

forgiveness

lukey 😍 (12:53)

please baby

part eleven: the end

tears are leaking from the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision briefly before they fall, rolling down your temples and dripping on your ears.

the ceiling above you has never been stared at longer. it's been almost three weeks since you found out about the bet: since you broke up with luke. you don't know why you were so upset, you'd only known luke for three months, only had been intimate with him for two weeks or so: but you just felt so....heartbroken.

you barley had any energy, only mustering up enough to work your shifts and attend important classes. thankfully, you hadn't run into any of the boys often. you'd seen mark the most, usually running into him coming out of the bathroom in your home, and well, you couldn't escape him there.

when you first told ariana about what happened that night at the hockey house, she was shocked and so very heartbroken for you. she had cuddled you on the couch all night, sharing junk food and watching sad movies as much as your heart desired. she gave mark an earful when she saw him next and you had never been more grateful for your best friend.

luke texted you a lot. usually just saying sorry, or asking you to meet up. you only responded once, about two days ago and you told him to give you space: you hadn't heard from luke since. you felt so stupid. it's similar to how you felt when you realized you were wrong about matt, expect this time it was worse. worse because it was all fake, even when luke comforted you about matt and what he did to you : none of it was real. the feelings, the friendship, the sly smirks and longing looks. you were probably the laughing stock of the wolverines hockey team - god, you think, he's probably described your face during sex -

a knock on your door has you sitting up off your bed, ariana's head of blonde hair poking through the door frame. "hey," she says, "i'm off to the game." you nodded because even if she hasn't said anything, you could tell by her perfectly styled hair and the michigan letter jacket she was sporting.

"okay."

she frowns slightly, "are you sure you don't want me to stay here?"

you shake your head, "no. just because my boyfriend was an asshole and I'm not going to- doesn't mean you shouldnt watch yours play, besides, they're doing good, right? it'll be a good game." ariana had told you that the guys had won first round and were currently in the second, only two wins away from moving forward.

"okay," she hesitates by the door and gives you another look. "are you positive?"

you laugh briefly and the skin of your cheeks feel dry from the salty water you cried before. "go," you urge.

"i'll send luke dirty looks for you," ariana promises and you smile slightly. "i'll text you when i'm on my way back, or if I end up staying at marks."

ariana left after that, making it to the bustling arena full of michigan students and staff alike, all sporting school colours and team jerseys. the game was fast and rough, rutger had even got into a fight in the third period. despite their efforts, the wolverines lost the game 3 - 2.

mark texted ariana after the game, asking her to wait by the locker rooms for him. so there the blonde stood, around a couple other girlfriends, all waiting for the boys to make their appearance. ethan comes out first, nothing more than a nod in ariana's direction before leaving the rink. rutger and mark come out together, chatting amongst themselves as they make their way over to her, luke trialing behind them, his now usual sour expression evident on his face.

"hey," mark greets, giving her a quick kiss. ariana greets him back, "good game."

"could've been better," rutger says. "did you see me lay that guy flat?"

"yeah," ariana nods, "I can also tell by that impending black eye you got going on." rutger smirks proudly.

"you want to come back to ours?," mark asks her, squeezing her shoulder until she's pushed into his side.

ariana winced, "I shouldn't, y/n is home alone and...yeah."

luke's eyes meet hers and ariana raises her brows at him. he swallows hard, "how is she?"

"dude," mark sighs.

"why would I tell you?" she snaps, "it's not your business...not anymore."

"I know," luke agrees, "I just thought id ask...I still care about her."

ariana really looks at him then and she has to stop her frown forming. he looked miserable. he had terrible bags under his eyes, and his cheeks looked gaunt, no colour when they once were always rosy. he was struggling, by only at his own fault. in a moment of weakness, ariana sighs, "she's not great. y/n, I mean. she's sad all the time but she's getting there."

rutger coughs, "hey, mark, wanna help me with something outside?" mark nods slowly, understanding the situation. he sends his girlfriend a small smile and then the two leave luke and ariana alone.

"I fucked up," luke sighs.

ariana scoffs, hands tucked into her jacket pockets. "yeah, i'm aware." luke just runs a hand over his face so ariana continues, "you know, when she told me that you and her started dating, I was shocked because she hasn't had eyes for anybody but matt since freshman year...but then I saw the two of you together, and I understood why she liked you so much. you treated her good, and you were always so supportive and then she told me it was fake...a bet. how could you do that to her?"

"it wasn't fake," luke sighs and then he backtracks, "well, yeah you're right. it started as bet and I never thought I would actually...or that she would...I thought by the end of this it would've ended differently. and then I fell in love with her and everything changed."

"you love her?" ariana asks softly.

"yeah," he admits.

"does she know that? what you just said...all of it, does she know?" luke shakes his head no and ariana sighs, contemplating if she's really about to say what she wants to say. "you need to tell her, luke. she's home right now and I think she needs to hear that. and i'm not saying this because she will forgive you, because I don't know if she will. but she deserves to hear it."

"okay," luke says, "I will go...right now. thank you."

ariana nods and watches him walk away, his shoulders a bit higher than before.

you're just hearing downstairs when your phone buzzes. expecting a message from ariana.

ariana 😈

i'm sorry in advance

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, your thumbs start moving, ready to type your response and then there's a knock at your door. even more confused, you pocket your phone, making the short trip to the front entryway and pulling on the door. luke stands there, and he looks even worse than you. good, you think, you should feel bad.

"what are you doing here?"

"I need to apologize. a proper apology, not like the lame excuse of one I gave you at that party when I was drunk and filled with guilt. you deserve a proper explanation," he says it quickly, as if you would shut the door in his face at any second. you give him a look of hesitation, "please, y/n, just 5 minutes and then you can kick me out."

you nod once, moving aside so he can step in. you gesture for him to sit on the couch, and he tried not to freak out at the lack of words from you. you walk past him, grabbing yourself a drink before joining him again. "how was your game?" you ask without looking at him.

he nods and then remembers you can't actually see him in that moment. "we lost."

you just nod, finally turning to face him. "you have 4 minutes left."

luke wipes his hands on his pants as a nervous habit. "I have never felt worse than I have felt these past few weeks. I shouldn't have agreed to that bet, and I definitely shouldn't have let rutger pick you. you are so much more than just a bet...you are the most beautiful, the kindest, most loving girl i've ever met...and I hate that i've upset you."

"then why? why did go through all that trouble if you knew..."

"I thought that it would work...the fake dating idea. I thought by the end of this you and matt would be together and then i could've told you about the bet. you probably still would've been mad at me, but it wouldn't of mattered because it worked...you would've got the guy. I wasn't expecting it to be anything."

"but it did become something."

"I know," luke agrees, "at that point the stupid bet was a distant memory. and I'm going to say it again; I didn't kiss you, or date you or sleep with you because of a bet, I did it because I fell in love with you."

your eyes go wide at his words but luke isn't looking at you but rather the hands in his lap, fiddling with the string of his pants. "and i'm not just saying that because I want your forgiveness or want to get back together with you, of course I do, but im not here for that. i'm here to try and heal your broken heart."

you grab his face softly and his eyes snap up to meet yours. "you love me?"

luke nods gently. "i'm sorry for not telling you about the bet and im sorry there was a bet in the first place...but if im being honest, im glad rutger picked that bet for me, because if he didn't i would've never found love with you."

you're crying now and it's luke's turn to hold your face. "you can kick me out if you want, or you can scream at me or hit me...whatever you need to do -"

"I love you too lukey," you sniff and you watch luke's eye go wide.

"really?" he breathes, his shoulders falling.

"yes," you nod, "and I can - in some twisted way - understand why you didn't tell me: you just didn't want to hurt me. I just wish i found out from you, instead of lacey. i'm not saying I completely forgive you, because that will take time but we can work on it." you press your forehead to his, "I'm glad matt ended up being a total creep because i like the guy I ended up with much better."

you watched him smile, and you laugh through your tears, "kiss me already."

and he does, pressing his lips to your plump ones in a toe curling wet kiss that had you gasping into his mouth, his hands tangling in your hair to hold you closer. he drops one hand, wrapping it around your waist and pulls you closer until your straddling his lap. "hold on," you breathe.

he looks up at you with concerned eyes, "did I do something?"

"no," you say immediately, "I just need to thank ariana,"

he smirks as you grab your phone, making a mental note to also thank your small blonde bestie. luke studies your face, cheeks flushed, lips pink and eyes wide, much different from when you first opened the door. in a moment of boldness he says, "I told you that you and I have chemistry."

you smile, playing with the hair at the back of his head as you think about that very first night when luke had found you at the party. "I didn't believe you back then."

"do you believe me now baby?"

"I guess so lukey." you tease and he smirks before kissing you again.

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