#ignore me I’m going through it for a number of reasons
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Something that I find so special about that article is that daniel is the only person on the grid who could give that interview. No other driver could have provided such an extremely personal view on Max and what he has accomplished. Daniel could give that insight because he’s been there since the beginning. Sure you have other drivers who’ve known Max as long or longer but Daniel played a significant role in Max’s growth and has felt the impact of Max and his talent perhaps more than any other driver. And even when it was difficult he always appreciated and respected Max for who he is both as a person outside of the sport and as driver with insane talent and ability. That article used just about every label imaginable to describe what they’ve been to each other over the years but through it all It’s just Max and Daniel and i think that’s pretty neat.
#ignore me I’m going through it for a number of reasons#sorry but they’re just different#give them back to each other full time#they’re yin and yang baby#During the worst year of his career Daniel said if it can’t be me I’m glad it’s him.#this article was the long version of the max is max quote and the of it can’t be me I’m glad it’s him quote#it is of course daniel#maxv#dr3#zandvoort24
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CALL ME DADDY w/Jujutsu Kaisen
More: Fem!Reader, explicit content, daddy Kink, dd/lg undertones, implied 24/7 kink play, blowjob, praise, punishment, spanking with a paddle, blood, riding, cunnilingus, squirting
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento & Choso Kamo
☾ Satoru Gojo
The ‘Dad Joke’ Daddy, ’s very playful and dorky. He loves doing the stereotypical TV dad things like smoking cigars, having a world’s best dad mug, and reading the paper during breakfast. Your number one supporter, always at every event or promotion you have, and he’s the first to support you when you’re down. Because he has more life experience, he enjoys guiding you.
“Quiet baby, Daddy’s tryin' ta read the paper.” He hushes you with a firm pat on the head. You're on your knees under the table, with his cock buried as far as it can go.
“Sorry Daddy,” you whisper, taking his heavy cock out of your mouth. “I promise I’ll be quiet.” You look up at him expectantly through wet lashes.
“I know you will, love.” He smiles down at you before gently pushing your head back towards his cock. You happily shove It back into your mouth while he picks up his favorite mug and reads about the current world events.
“Such a good girl, always listenin’ to what Daddy tells you, hmm? I think you deserve an award.”
☾ Ryomen Sukuna
The 'Disciplinarian' Daddy, has very high expectations of you. Very strict with SO many guidelines and rules, it's almost like he wants you to fail so he has a reason to punish you. He’s a brat tamer who readily reminds you who's in charge. Likes to physically enforce his rules and never skips a good spanking.
“I’m sorry Daddy, promise I am!” You sob as the wooden paddle comes down on your already bruised ass.
“You didn't sound sorry laughin' and messin’ with me durin’ my meeting.” He grits out, forcing your hands to stay on to the side when you try to cover your ass.
“Thought it was funny while m’ just tryin’ ta support us,” he brings the paddle down, ignoring your screams for mercy. “All you do is sit at home and’ spend my hard-earned money.”
“I'm sorry Daddy I won’t do it again.” You squirm when he rubs an especially sore spot on your ass that you know for a fact is going to sting for the next week.
“Yea?” He slowly lets go of your hands.
“Yes! Yes! I swear Daddy, on my life!” Your sob of relief turns into a scream when he brings his hand down again.
“What did I say about swearing things on your life, huh!?”
☾ Nanami Kento
The ‘Professor’ Daddy, he's so calm and patient with you. All he wants is to see you succeed. Likes taking you on informational dates like going to a museum or aquarium or just staying in and watching documentaries. He’s a pillar of strength, very structured and strict but also forgiving and nurturing. Loves giving you praise and seeing your face lighten up when he teaches you something interesting.
“C'mon little girl, you can do it.” He encourages you from his place underneath you.
“I can’t do it! ‘S too big, I’m so stupid!’ You cry out, covering your tear-ridden face from your daddy.
He must be so disappointed, you think.
“Hey…Hey, you can, princess, I know you can. Remember what Daddy taught you?” he pulls your hands from your face and places them on his big chest. You look into his eyes and nod.
“Yea,” he settles you over his cock. “Daddy knows he taught you how to ride, you just have to do it yourself now. C'mon perfect girl you can do it.”
With his praise you nod to yourself before slowly guiding yourself down his shaft. Once you reach the hilt you moan and smile down at him. He smiles back before nodding back expectantly. You brace your knees on the soft pillows underneath them and slowly start bouncing exactly like he taught you.
“My perfect girl.”
☾ Choso Kamo
The ‘lowercase ‘d’ Daddy, the rare submissive daddy. He loves doing anything that pleases you and tends to be more forgiving when you break the few rules he has. He enjoys providing from a submissive mindset and being wrapped around his partner's finger.
“Do you feel good, baby?” Chosos asks from his position underneath your dress.
“Mhm, feels so good Daddy, you always make me feel so good.” You moan when he goes back to eating you out. He says something else but it's muffled as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curl into your g-spot.
“Right there Daddy,” You squeeze his head between your thighs. “M’gonna squirt Daddy, you’re gonna make me squirt!” You yell before releasing all over his face.
“Fuck that felt so good Daddy.” You grin at Choso who’s come out of your now damp dress.
“Yea? You tasted fuckin’ divine babygirl.” He grins up at you.
“Can you do me a big favor?” You blink innocently, already knowing the answer. His eyebrows frown in confusion.
“Course I will baby, what is it?”
“Can you lick my mess up off the floor, don’ want my parents to wonder why the floor is wet.”
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#jjk#smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#choso smut#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso x reader#choso x y/n#choso x you#sukuna smut#sukuna scenarios#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x y/n#nanami x you
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MINE ft. Yeji
yeji x male reader smut
9k words
it's a follow up to... NURSE
“You’re unbelievable!”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
“You’re going to make me go insane!”
“That good, am I?”
“I swear one of these days—”
“I know, I know, I feel the same—”
“—I am seriously going to kill you!”
“Uh, shit, I’m out of jokes with that one.”
“Good, because I am Not. Fucking. Joking.”
Yeji’s well and truly pissed—rightfully so, mind you (you really fucked up this time), and for the first time ever there may really be no clever quip or line that can get you out of this one.
But of course, that won’t stop you from trying.
“Look around! This isn’t a fucking joke!”
She’s glaring at you, the kind of furious that could melt steel with her gaze alone, eyes narrowed into sharp slits that slice through your bullshit like a hot knife.
And so, you blink first, balking under Yeji’s glare, and decide to take her advice and look away, look around at your surroundings—at the many, many reasons Yeji is justifiably upset.
For one, there’s your current location—a hospital room, not a good look. Then, there’s the cast around your arm and bandages on your head—not the worse of injuries, but again, when you couple it with the IV snaking its way up your arm, and the morbid beeping of a heart rate monitor filling the silence, it really does not make you out to be the most intact of individuals.
Finally, there’s Yeji, her eyes verging on tears and her hands balled into fists, clutching the fabric of your hospital gown and looking like she’s ready to tear the room apart.
Add them all together: a hospital room, a handsome but seriously injured boyfriend, with his devastated girlfriend wracked with worry besides him… it doesn’t paint the best of pictures.
But yet, before you can stop yourself, another attempt at lightening the mood: “You should see the other guy.”
There it is! A crack in Yeji’s armour, a flicker of something other than righteous fury on her face—eyes widen slightly, lips part just a smidge—a ghost of a smile, perhaps?
But it’s gone before you can confirm its existence—Yeji’s façade is maintained and all you get is a minuscule quirk of her eyebrow.
“The other guy was a car,” she says through gritted teeth.
“And now that car is being turned into scrap and I get to be in the presence of the most beautiful girl in all of Korea.”
“I hate you,” she replies, lovingly (you hope).
“Most beautiful girl in all of Asia?” You’re almost there, you can see it on her face.
“Still hate you.” An ease in tension—a slight drop of her shoulders, a relaxing of her grip.
“The world?”
A sigh, a frown slowly turning upwards, success! — “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m your idiot,” you add, and that gets you a smile—a real, genuine, heart-stopping smile that lights up the room more than any fluorescent bulb could ever dream of.
“What am I going to do with you?” She’s shaking her head, letting you have your little victory.
“What would I do without you?” You ask, and she's rolling her eyes—nothing she hasn't heard you say before. “Certainly wouldn’t get to stay in a room this nice.”
Yeji blushes, her cheeks taking on the same shade of the excessive number of roses decorating your bedside. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Seriously, Yeji?” You say, and echo back to her, “look around.”
It’s Yeji’s turn to act coy—as if it’s perfectly normal for a hospital room to come with a flat-screen TV, designer furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the city.
The room is closer to a luxury suite than a recovery ward—bigger than your apartment, even—and there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to maybe risk another injury so you can maybe extend your stay even longer, especially if it means getting to have Yeji fuss over you like this.
“I might have called in a favour or two,” Yeji admits. “But they said this was the only room available!”
“Yeji, this is too much,” you say, but she’s already ignoring you, waving her hand dismissively.
“It’s nothing,” she says, rising off the bed and leaving you to your own devices, satisfied that you’ve been properly scolded.
But, you know better. While Yeji is like this with everyone she cares about—always giving, always putting others first—with you she gets especially intense with her caring, and as much as she’d probably deny it otherwise, you know that she’s more than a little smug at the sight of you laid up in this fancy hospital room, with nothing to do but let her pamper you.
“Sure, sure,” you say, but you can easily imagine her on the phone with every hospital in a fifty-kilometre radius, pulling strings left and right, leaning on the right people to get what she wants.
It’s just who Yeji is—no half measures, above and beyond in every aspect.
“I should unpack,” Yeji decides, retrieving a ridiculously oversized bag from the corner of your suite.
“Unpack?” You ask, but your question falls on deaf ears.
“I was halfway across the world when I heard what happened.” Yeji's clicking her tongue with annoyance as she struggles with the zipper for the bag. “Two days before I could get a flight out!”
“You didn’t have to rush—” you start to say, but Yeji whips her head around, a clear warning not to finish the very stupid sentence you’re about to complete.
“I didn’t have time to pack everything, just grabbed what I could from our place—” (your place, technically) “—and came straight here.”
Yeji instantly sets about your room, making sure that there isn’t a corner that hasn't been touched by her: your favourite tea brewing, the last book you were reading, a Bluetooth speaker playing her ‘songs to remind you of me’ playlist; every single thing you could possibly need to feel better.
It’s not even what she’s doing as she completes her takeover of your hospital room, it’s how she’s doing it.
She’s in her normal everyday uniform: one of your flannel shirts over a tank top that just so happens to ride up just right, showing off her toned midriff as she reaches to hang a change of clothes for you in the wardrobe. Then there’s the snug, tight yoga pants moulded to her curves that stretch over her unbearably firm ass every time she needs to bend over and take something else out from her bag.
It’s all too perfect to be accidental, and you start to get conspiratorial, like perhaps this innocent act of care is just a torturous reminder of your what you can’t have while you’re all laid up and injured.
She is dressed normally. But normal, everyday clothes for anyone else on someone like Yeji, with her body—all sleek muscles and tight lines—is absolutely devastating.
Yeji works fast, a tornado of love and care clad in a dangerous pair of leggings, and in minutes she’s done, adding a finishing touch by spraying her perfume around the room, overpowering the sterile hospital scent with the sweet, floral notes that are uniquely hers—this is her space now, anyway.
Finally, she stops at the foot of your hospital bed, picking up your medical chart, reading it like she understands it all (actually, knowing Yeji, she probably got her medical degree on the way to the hospital just in case she deemed the doctors and nurses weren't doing a good enough job and she decided to take over).
“Hm,” is Yeji’s summary of your current condition. It’s cute, seeing her stare at the clipboard with a focus she usually reserves for the stage. “Eating well, no signs of deterioration in fine motor skills, very responsive, and very… friendly?”
You raise an eyebrow. “They wrote that down?”
“Attending physician: Dr. Park Yoona, Nurses: Roh Ji Yun, Jeon Jeong ah, Bae Hye Jin,” Yeji starts to read out the list of names—female names—and you start to hear the nails being hammered into your coffin, “Nurse Kim Ji Won—seriously, like the actress? All women. Hm.”
“Really, I hadn’t noticed!” Maybe feigning ignorance would increase your chances of survival. “You’d think in this day and age there’d be more male nurses now though, right?”
“Hm,” it’s that noise again. “I’m glad to hear that while I was worried sick about you, desperately trying to get over here, you’ve been well taken care of. Must be nice surrounded by all these cute women in their little nurse outfits.”
“Oh, please,” you test a deflection, “they’re just doing their jobs.”
Yeji’s eyes bore into you. “One of these nurses dots her ‘I’s with love hearts.”
You can only sigh at your impending doom. It’s been a good life.
“Who do these women think they are?”
You switch up your strategy, trying another angle: “They’re medical professionals, Yeji, not strippers.”
“Right, medical professionals,” Yeji echoes, her tone thick with sarcasm, before she suddenly switches up, putting on her sweetest, and most uncomfortable, baby voice. “Oh no, such a big, strong man that needs help. Tell me where it hurts so I can rub it better for you!”
“Stop, stop,” you protest, as much as you would like her to rub it better, you still have your pride. “I barely even talk to them—they just do their check-ups and leave. I can’t even remember what they look like, they’re probably all just plain, old ladies.”
You regret the words as soon as you say them (you really should’ve seen this coming), because before you can get any further into your pitiful defence, the door to your room swings open, and in struts a young, cheery, bouncy woman.
“Is my favourite patient ready for another check-up?” You're already cringing at the nurse’s question—her voice a squeak that’s far too high-pitched and far too cute for a hospital. If anything, she looks like an actress playing the role of a nurse, in some bad movie where they clearly casted for looks over believability.
Yeji’s eyes widen at the sight of the new, endowed occupant of the room, and she reads the name on the nurse’s tag, pinned firmly over a set of scrubs that’s a few sizes too small, and you’re immediately reminded of her earlier threat to kill you with surprising clarity.
“Kim Ji Won,” Yeji reads out loud, before suddenly remembering herself, lowering a baseball cap over her eyes and slipping on a surgical mask, hiding her face from view. She turns away, pretending to fuss with the flowers on your bedside table.
“Oh!” The nurse exclaims, and you’re starting to feel the walls of what was once a luxurious hospital room start to close in. “I didn’t realise you had a guest,” she says, as light and cheerful as ever, “is she perhaps your… sister?”
Oh God, Yeji might really kill you after this. “No, no, no, she’s my—”
But Nurse JI Won ploughs onwards, having the gall (or lack of a sense of self-preservation) to turn to Yeji, and chat away. “Your brother has been the perfect patient! Me and all the other nurses just can’t get enough of him! He’s such a charmer!”
Yep. Definitely dying. It’s been a good life.
“Oh, oops!” Ji Won giggles, as she somehow drops the clipboard she was holding, sending papers scattering across the floor. “I’m so silly, give me a second to get it together!”
“No, no, it’s okay you don’t need to—” you try, but by now you should know better, “—bend over and pick it up.”
She’s already turned away from you, pointing her ass up and straight into the air, performatively picking up the pages one by one, taking her time so you can commit to memory the exact colour of the lacy thong peeking out of her pants.
It’s so blatant that you’re almost impressed, but compared to the practiced ease of your girlfriend, it’s a pale imitation. Still, your mind can’t resist making the comparison, even though there’s no ass in the world that can hold a candle to Yeji’s cheeks wrapped in sheer nylon.
Look at you, all loyal and shit—even in the face of all temptation, you’re still a committed boyfriend, through and through.
If only Yeji, who is now evaluating you with a glare as hot as a thousand suns, could know that your mind is filled with thoughts of just her… even as you're staring at Nurse Ji Won’s ass.
You’re dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
“Aha, got it!” Ji Won is back on her feet, jumping with a cheer that suggests that maybe she could use a little more support, whilst completely immune to the sudden drop in temperature in the room. Yeji might as well be a ghost to her, the nurse looks only at you, scanning your body, searching for any new injuries that may have popped up since your last check-up.
If only she knew to just come back in an hour.
“It says here it’s about time to take out your IV!” Ji Won sunnily declares.
Consent isn’t a word that seems to exist in this nurse’s vocabulary, and she takes the opportunity to lean real close over you, pressing her ample chest against your side, making sure you get the full feel of her curves as she reaches across to the stand.
Of course, you don’t look—that would be insane. Instead your eyes are on Yeji, who’s definitely not looking at the nurse. No, she’s still boring a hole right through your skull, her hands holding a shredded flower, her knuckles turning white.
“Okay, that’s all done!” Ji Won chirps, and mercifully removes her breasts from your shoulder. “Hey, why are you acting all shy? You’re usually so much friendlier!”
“Oh?” Yeji makes a noise for the first time, and it terrifies you.
But again, the nurse pretends like she doesn’t even exist. “Let me check your heartbeat… And—”
“I’m sure it’s all fine and you can leave now, right—” You try a last-ditch effort to save this poor nurse’s life, but she’s clearly not taking the hint.
“Perfect as always, Mr. Metronome!” She says, writing down on her clipboard, clearly not noticing the seconds of her remaining lifespan ticking away. “We always talk about how you must work out so much to have a heart rate so low and consistent, I mean, obviously you do—look at you!”
You file her comments away as yet another reason your life is about to end, and try to push on, “so—I’m all good, right?”
“Of course you are,” Ji Won replies, turning the volume right up on the flirtiness, and her eyes flicker over to Yeji before she winks at you. “But I’ll just double-check everything before I go.”
“No, I think that’s enough!” Yeji breaks the conversation with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and the poor nurse jumps from the sternness of her voice. “You said he’s fine, he said he’s tired, and so that means you can leave now!”
“Oh, he’s tired? Does he need extra pillows, or is there anything I can do to make him more comfortable?”
But Yeji already has her out the door, practically dragging the girl out of the room by her collar of her scrubs. “He’s fine!”
The door slams behind the nurse, but not before you hear her giggle, “Hey, you look familiar!”
An icy silence fills the room once the nurse is gone, thick and tense. Yeji doesn’t move for several beats, it’s eerie the way she just stands there, staring at the closed door of your hospital room.
Something clicks in her head, though, and she locks the door, turning back to you, seemingly having made a final decision on your fate.
“So…” you throw out a feeler, trying your best to move straight past, well, everything. “How’s the tour going?”
“Is she perhaps your sister?” Yeji’s voice jumps an octave, a perfect imitation of the high-pitched squeak that had just left the room. She turns to you, throwing the cap off her head and tearing the mask off her face. “Vomit.”
“I have no idea what that nurse was talking about,” you say, immediately making a case to plead your innocence.
“So gross!” Her words are dripping with pure disgust, but at least it isn’t directed at you (for now, anyway). “That’s it! We’re moving hospitals!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down.”
“What is it with girls like that? Oh, you must work out a lot, I mean obviously you do!” Yeji continues her eerily uncanny impersonation. “Seriously, you’re an adult and you’re doing baby talk? ‘Perfect as always Mr. Metronome!”
“She’s just being nice, probably didn’t mean anything at all,” it’s a very weak argument you’re making, the only way the nurse could make her intentions more obvious were if she was wearing a bright neon sign that flashed ‘please fuck me!’.
“Bitch. Shameless! Hitting on my boyfriend in front of me. Acting so cute, so helpless—oops! I dropped my clipboard!” Yeji’s pouting now, fluttering her lashes, mimicking every blatant flirtation Nurse Ji Won had thrown your way.
“Really, we’re doing caricatures now?”
“Carica-what?” Yeji tilts her head to the side, and starts to sway her way over to you, her hips swinging from side to side with an exaggerated bounce. She’s playing it up to a T, making sure to sway, shake, to jiggle with each step she takes. “What does that word even mean? It’s such a big word. You must be really smart.”
Yeji settles into the role of the pretty, ditzy nurse far too easily, and her eyes tell you that she’s enjoying it far too much. For now though, you play along, clearing your throat and putting on your manliest voice—“I have been told I have a rather expansive vocabulary.”
“Wow, another big word,” Yeji’s at your bedside again, taking your hand into hers, looking up at you with wide-eyed awe. “Oh, you’re just so clever!” She giggles, as her other hand just so happens to come down on your thigh, leaving her free to squeeze and massage your muscles. “And so strong too! Do you work out?”
You grit your teeth as Yeji starts to trace her thumb in gentle circles over your skin, all the while staring up at you so innocently—she’s laying it on thick. “Sometimes…”
“I can tell…” Yeji continues, her voice trailing off as she runs her hand further up your thigh, light as a feather, but when she’s looking at you with those eyes and that smile, it’s if she’s dragging a live wire across your skin. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure as she leans in closer, lets her top hang a little loose, lets you get a peek at the soft swell of her breasts, parts those full, pouty lips of hers, her fingers tracing the contour of your leg as she moves higher and higher and higher, until her fingertips are on your—“Unbelievable! I cannot believe that actually works on you!”
“That’s unfair!” You shout in surprise, letting go of a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. “You can’t expect me not to react when you’re doing that!”
“Uh huh, I bet!” Yeji says, clearly not buying it. “You’re not at all attracted to the helpless, innocent, bouncy little slut that leans close so you can get a good view of her fat tits?”
“I’ll have you know I’m a singular pair of tits kind of guy.”
“This bitch,” Yeji curses under her breath, throwing her hands up in frustration. She unfortunately removes her hand from your leg, and plops herself down on your bed (it’s easily big enough for two), stewing in her emotions. You watch each cross her face: concern, jealousy, disbelief, a slight hint of amusement.
“Yeji,” you say, getting her attention, snapping her out of her thoughts. “You’re my girlfriend. I’m yours. That’s that.”
She stares back at you, her eyes light up at the declaration, and she punches your arm—your healthy one, of course. “You better be.”
It’s strange, seeing Yeji like this—so raw, so visibly affected by someone else’s attention on you. You’ve always thought of her as so strong, so confident, but there’s something in her possessiveness over you that is making you think about things that should definitely not happen in a hospital.
Fuck it, injuries be damned, without another word, you stretch forward and grab her by the waist, your good hand wrapping around her firmly, pulling her closer to you. She gasps, but doesn’t resist, no, she leans into your touch, her body melting into yours as if it’s been starved for affection.
You hold her tight, letting her settle into your embrace, and can only laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation you’re in. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be taking care of me, you’re really not helping my blood pressure right now.”
“I’m still mad at you,” Yeji murmurs into your chest, but there’s no venom in her voice. Instead, it’s filled with something else entirely—something softer, more vulnerable. Her body relaxes against you, and you feel the tension in the room start to dissipate.
“Let’s not pretend that you weren’t enjoying acting like a helpless, little slut, Yeji,” you accuse, and Yeji’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. “I know you.”
“It’s your fault,” Yeji says, still hiding her face in your chest. “You and your ridiculous sexy nurse fantasy.”
“It’s a classic,” you shrug, before making an executive decision. “And this time, we actually have the right setting for it.”
Yeji looks around the room, shyly biting her lip. Again, all an act, she’s far too perceptive to not have the same thought on the forefront of her mind. “Here?”
“I saw you lock the door.” You catch the smirk that flashes across Yeji’s face. “Your mind is as filthy as mine, Yeji, I’m just better at vocalising it.”
“You think you can read my mind?”
“You know I can.” You lean in, your mouth finding hers in a soft kiss to prove your point—you didn’t need to ask to know that this is what she’s been after the whole time. Your lips find her forehead, “I can read your mind”—a kiss on her cheek—“your body”—and a whisper in her ear— “your pussy.”
You know you’re right by the hitch in Yeji’s breathing, how she leans into your touch, and when she straddles you without a second thought. Her thighs squeeze down against yours, the fabric of her yoga pants sliding against your hospital gown. She’s all soft curves and heat as she settles herself over you, her hands pressing down on your chest to keep herself steady.
“That nurse really riled you up, didn’t she?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yeji steals another kiss from you, a moan muffled against your mouth. But yet, there’s the slight grind of hips—slow, deliberate friction, unbearable by design. “I’m just here to take care of my helpless boyfriend.”
“Yoga pants, Yeji. Again,” you say. “I saw it all. How you just so happened to need to stretch, or bend over, or lean just right,” you tease, even though it’s getting harder and harder to get your words out by the second. “You’re just as bad as her, only you’re way better at it.”
You kiss her again, this time with more urgency, the type of kiss you’ve been dying to give her since she first walked into the room, your tongue slipping into her mouth and tasting minty sweetness on her breath.
“And you look way fucking hotter than her when you do it, too.”
A smug smile plays on Yeji's lips as she's kissing you again. “I am the most beautiful woman in Korea.”
“The world,” you correct her.
“Goes without saying,” she finished. “’Extremely hot girlfriend’, if I remember correctly?”
“On fucking fire,” you summarise, and reach out to touch her, needing to feel her, but Yeji stops you placing your hand back on the bed.
She gives you a stern look, and shakes her head. “No, no, no. You’re the patient here, remember? You’re not allowed to do anything,” she says, her voice a mix of playfulness and authority. Yeji leans in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “You have to let the slutty nurse take care of you.”
You see it again—that switch—and Yeji gets more adventurous, cutting off your breath as she drags her hand down, sliding it under your thin hospital gown, walking her fingers back up your thigh. She stops just shy of your hardened cock, her eyes never leaving yours, revelling in your neediness for her, your want, before finally she takes a hold of you, her grip firm and tight and sure.
There’s heat in her palm, and she pulls a moan out of you and into her mouth as she starts to slowly stroke. It’s the softness of her hand against the growing stiffness of your shaft, her fingertips grazing your skin—you know you should be more careful, more considerate of where you are, but with Yeji’s touch, all rational thought is lost.
“I bet none of those bitch nurses could make you feel like this.” Yeji’s touch is a masterpiece of precision and passion, each movement calculated, practiced, she’s right—she’s the only one who knows how to touch you in just the perfect way to make you ache. Her fingers dance along your shaft, her grip tightening and loosening in a rhythm that only she can hear.
“I don’t even know who you’re talking about.” You groan, playing dumb, your mind filled with nothing but Yeji’s body on top of you, her fingers wrapped around you. “What other women?”
Yeji’s eyes narrow, but she can’t hold back her smile. “Good answer,” she whispers, rewarding you by moving faster now, each stroke deeper, more deliberate, reading your every reaction to the way she pumps you, timing her fingers with your stuttering breaths.
She likes—loves—taking care of you, making you feel good, there’s a thrill in it for her, knowing that she’s the one who can make you this vulnerable, this desperate. Her hand moves with confidence, her strokes become more insistent, her gaze hungrier, and she leans forward, pressing herself into your chest, letting you feel the softness of her breasts, the stiffness of her nipples through the flimsy fabric of her top.
“Does this feel good, honey?” She asks, like she doesn’t already know the answer, like she can’t feel your hips bucking up to meet her touch. "Do you like it when I take care of you?"
You nod, unable to form words, unable to do anything but keep your eyes on Yeji and marvel at just how fucking hot she is on top of you as she strokes you. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, tickling your neck and cheeks, and her eyes—those piercing, all-knowing eyes—affixed to yours, holding you hostage.
“God, I love this cock,” Yeji murmurs between kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck, “so big, so hard… All mine…” She’s so satisfied, so happy with herself—with your cock—her constant praise as much for her as it is for you. “Fuck, look how big you’re getting for me, barely fits in my hand.”
“God, Yeji,” you gasp, struggling to keep together, to keep from losing yourself in the palm of her hand, as each of her strokes, each of her words, keep coming, stroking your cock, your ego, fucking with you completely. “I’m getting close—”
“Not yet.” Yeji lets you go, leaving you panting, your tortured cock standing tall and missing her attention.
Before you can even mount a protest, she’s sliding up your body, stretching above your head to grab the hospital bed remote, smothering you with the soft mounds of her breasts as she does so. You groan into her, forced to feel the weight of her pressing down on you, the warmth of her skin against yours, teasing you in a way that’s both infuriating and heavenly.
With a click, the bed whirs into action, reclining back until you're flat on your back, staring directly up at her. She kneels over your head, and there’s the outline of her pussy through the fabric of her leggings, all swollen and damp and begging for your tongue.
She doesn’t have to look to know she has your undivided attention—she's pulling her shirt and her top over her head, setting her breasts, ripe and full, bouncing free from their confinement. No bra today (of course she didn’t, what would be the fucking point?) and you get a full view of those perfect tits, her dark, pebbled nipples already stiff for you.
“It’s your turn to take care of me.”
Yeji lowers herself onto your waiting mouth, lets out a noise that’s so needy, so fucking greedy, as your lips meet her heat for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
“Fuuuuuuck…”
You kiss, lick, nibble at her, tease her, groan into her thighs, as she urges herself against you, making you breathe in the scent of her sex, so immediately wet for you.
It’s not nearly enough for either of you—you need to feel her against your lips, your tongue. You move your hand up her thigh and towards her hip, digging your fingers into her waistband. But Yeji stops you again, and says the four most pleasant words in any language. “Just fucking rip them.”
There’s no hesitation—she lifts her hips off your face, you snake your hand between her legs, take one end of the fabric between your fingers, and another in your teeth: one quick, sharp yank, and you tear. The nylon gives way with a satisfying rip, and Yeji shivers above you as the cool air hits her full, puffy, exposed cunt.
“Mmmph, yesssss,” Yeji hisses as you pull her back down onto your lips, shuddering as you kiss that lovely crease where her thigh meets her pelvis, her pleasure vibrating through your own skull. She quivers, shifts, needy for your lips on her naked pussy, and she pleads, “stop teasing… I need it…”
You smile against her skin, your breath ghosting over her pussy, making her squirm. "What's the magic word?"
"Now," Yeji says, her voice firm, her thighs so magnificently tense. "The magic word is now."
With that, you give her a long lick, starting from the very bottom of her pussy and moving upward, tasting every millimetre of her juicy cunt, tracing the entire length of her slit, ending with an indulgent flick of her clit.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Yeji cries out, shivering, falling apart as your tongue finds that sweet spot, her thighs tightening around your neck. Her hands come down to either side of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place as she starts to rock back and forth, setting her own rhythm, matching her hips with the pace of your tongue. “God, you’re so fucking good at that, always so fucking good at that.”
She’s whining, so, so desperate, so pleading, and you’re eager as you taste her, explore her, will her to come apart in your mouth. You’re taking generous licks, tongue dancing around her clit, teasing it, testing her full vocal range as she cries out your name
“Oh, please, please baby, fucking please.” She’s getting wetter and wetter, coating your tongue, your lips, your chin. “I missed this,” she gasps, grinding herself against your tongue, all desperation and utter awe. “Missed you making me feel so fucking good.”
You look up, up at her as she rides your face, she’s so fucking breathtaking. Her body tensing around you and on top of you—so tight, so firm—chiselled abs honed by decades of dancing, that gorgeous curve of her waist leading up to her perky, petite tits, so lovely, bouncing with every gasp she takes.
"I'm so wet for you, honey, so fucking wet," Yeji whimpers, “you always make me so fucking wet—I can’t—ah!”
A sharp inhale, you suck her clit into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the sensitive nub. She’s moaning so fucking loud, so unrestrained, echoing through the hospital room and down the hallways, loud enough to let every nurse on the floor know exactly how fucking good it feels to be on top of you. Her hips jerk, she can’t control her own body now, and you know she’s getting closer and closer, determined to ride your tongue right to the end.
Just looking at her is all it takes for you—seeing her so damn horny, so satisfied sets you on edge, needing something, anything to take your cock and match her euphoria.
“Do you want me to help you out, baby?” Yeji’s reading your mind. You groan and affirmative into the folds of her cunt, and in an instant, you go from being smothered by her juices to being faced with the full, perfect tautness of her ass.
She makes it look so easy, so graceful, lifting herself off your face and spinning around to this new position—face down, ass up.
A second later and your wishes are granted—your cock, so heavy with need, standing neglected and alone is met by Yeji’s soft, warm lips, kissing the very tip of you, tasting the drops of pre-cum that’s already leaking out of you.
“Let me make you feel better,” is all Yeji says—just one light kiss, a whisper into your cock, and she dives onto you, swallowing your cock whole. It’s far too much, far too quickly, you’re out of breath and ready to tap out as her warm, wet mouth envelopes your whole rod in one, smooth suck.
Her tongue swirls around you, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, she takes you deeper and deeper, until you’re buried down her throat. You throb inside her, her throat muscles contracting back around you, and you can’t help but thrust up into her mouth, seeking more, needing more.
“Yeji!” You cry out her name on reflex as she takes you in, her hands digging into your thighs as she works her mouth up and down, bobbing, taking you deep and noisily, smacking her lips, sloshing her tongue. Whatever pain you had lingering from your arm, your head, or your ribs, it’s all forgotten—there’s only Yeji, and her exquisite lips, doing everything she can to wring every drop of pleasure out from your body.
It's too much, too intense, and you’ve been on the edge since she first grabbed a hold on you. This can’t end now, not when she’s sucking you so hard, practically worshipping your cock. You need a distraction—pull her hips back, gently, firmly, push that beautiful ass back into your face and indulge in her again.
“Mmmph—!” Yeji moans into you as your tongue meets her cunt, the sound reverberating down your shaft and right into your brain.
And now it’s a competition—you push through her pussy with her tongue, feel her walls tightening around you. She’s pushing back into you, grinding down on you, making sure you get the full flavour of her cunt, her ass, every inch of her on your taste buds.
She’s more frantic now, moving faster, sloppier on your cock as you push her closer and closer to climax. Her tongue slides against you, her cheeks hollow out around you, she drools and dribbles down your shaft—it’s messy and wet and absolutely fucking amazing.
But you can’t let her win, not this time. You double down on your efforts, suctioning your lips over her clit and start rapidly flicking your tongue, setting a relentless pace that you know will make her crumble. She tries her best to keep up, to keep going, but she’s a mess of sucking and moaning and quivering all over your face and on your cock.
Yeji works her tongue, her lips, her mouth—she makes sure you know it’s all yours. But then, after taking you all the way to the back of her throat, your cock pops out of her mouth with a wet smack, and she lets out a cry of pure, unbridled ecstasy. “Fuck, I can’t, I can’t, I’m gonna—FUCK!”
She collapses, bent over and prone, only her ass rocking and grinding against your face as she utterly, completely falls apart, ruined by just your tongue, ruined by the orgasm you’re giving her.
“So good—God—fuck—keep going, keep going, keep going!” Yeji’s voice is a chant, a prayer that you’re more than happy to answer. She’s shaking, her pussy pulsing against your face as you lick and suck at her clit, clouding your mind with the heady mix of sweetness and desire that has you hooked. She’s lost, given up and given over to you now, her moans becoming screams—“your tongue, your fucking tongue—gah!”
Her body geos rigid, locking up as she hits that wonderful peak—but you’re not ready to stop. You keep licking, keep pushing through wave after wave of pleasure that crash over her, not giving a second of rest. Her juices flood your mouth and you swallow greedily, drinking her in like it’s the only medicine you need.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck—fucking making me feel so good—God!”
Nothing fucking matters, all you know is Yeij’s cunt is on your tongue and her ass is in your face, and your only job is to keep licking her to her core, until she finally goes slack, crumbling on top of you.
She stays like that, her legs shaking like she’s just run a marathon, her nipples squashed against your chest, her gasps hot and ragged against your thigh. You can feel the staccato of her heart, and you hold her close, massaging her lower back as she does her best to catch her breath.
And yet, there you are, still throbbing, still so fucking hard and delirious with your need for her touch.
There’s no point in hiding it, she’s so close you can feel her breath on your cock, your close enough to poke her eye out with how hard you are.
“Someone’s feeling left out,” she says, as if she’s not entirely to blame. “Is that for me?”
“You know it is,” you respond, far weaker, more pleading than you intended.
A gentle, torturous kiss against your thigh, and you’re just about ready to explode in her face. “Then I guess as your dutiful, loving, girlfriend, I better do something about it.”
It’s so easy for her—one moment she’s exhausted, out of breath on top of you, the next she’s fully recovered, back on top and mounting you, facing you as she smears the tip of your cock with her wetness.
You try to sit up, eager to get straight to it, straight to fucking her like you need to, but her hands are on your shoulders and she’s pushing you back down.
“Lie down, baby,” she hushes you, pressing you down onto the mattress. “Just enjoy this.”
Her eyes narrow as she drinks in the sight of you, bursting with anticipation as she lowers her pussy onto your cock. It’s a special kind of torment, one that makes your hips buck involuntarily, so impatient to feel her warmth again.
But she takes her sweet time, and it’s only when she’s close enough, she bends down, mouth hovering over yours. Your eyes drift shut, and you wait for that soft contact of her lips, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, she whispers, "I've got you," and you feel the warm, velvety embrace of her cunt as she takes you in, inch by agonising inch.
Fully seated, her walls close around you, and that’s when she kisses you hard, her tongue pushing past your lips and into your mouth with the same aching hunger of her cunt around your cock.
She tastes so damn good, feels incredible—it’s been too long, and you want nothing but to grab her, hold her and slam her hips down onto yours and drive deeper into her, but your body won’t cooperate.
You can only lay there as she starts to move, her hips rocking back and forth, slowly, intentionally, having you seeing stars. And then, just when you think you can’t take it anymore, she lifts herself up off your cock, and in one swift motion, sinks herself straight back down, whispering “holy fuck yesss” against your lips.
She needs time to get used to you, used to your cock filling her whole again. “This fucking cock,” she bites your lip as she rides you, “always so big, always so perfect.”
Yeji has to take it slow, has to let her pussy stretch around you, adjust to you, before she can start to ride you, to fuck you like she really wants to. And she does want to—wants to claim you, erase any doubt about who is the one person that can fuck you like you deserve to be—so, so much.
Each movement down the length of your cock is faster than the one before, each moan into your mouth hotter, each clench of her cunt around yours so much tighter, until she’s fucking you in earnest—harder, faster.
“So thick, so, so, riiiiight,” Yeji groans.“I’ve missed this, needed this.”
She’s riding you like she’s been waiting for this forever, like this might be the last time, bouncing her ass up and down, her eyes hooded with lust, her hair a wild mess around her flushed face, her nipples swinging every time your hips meet.
“When you get better, honey, I need you to fuck me real hard,” Yeji whispers in your ear, her breath hot and tickling, thick with lust, her tight cunt milking you, keeping you on the edge of insanity. “But I’ll take care of you for now, I’ll take care of this cock—fuck I love it—I love you—I love that you’re mine.”
“You’re mine too, Yeji,” you groan back to her.
“That’s right—I belong to you and you belong to me,” Yeji punctuates her point with a hard slam of her cunt down onto your cock. "You're My. Fucking. Boyfriend."
She’s getting faster and faster now, picking up her pace, like she needs to prove something, to herself, to you, to the entire fucking hospital.
“Those other bitches can’t ride you like I do—can’t fuck you like I do,” Yeji’s panting, each word fucked out of her, coming out like a proud battle cry. She’s right, you’re sure of it—no one else can make you feel this way, no one else can take you, claim you like she can. She’s lost in it now, lost in the heat and the friction, her whole body consumed by a burning desire to show you just how good she is at this.
Yeji leans back, sitting upright, giving herself better leverage to bounce on your cock, giving you a better view of her body—all perfectly sculpted edges and soft curves—and those fucking perky tits. They’re stunning, just like the rest of her, and you reach for them on instinct, cupping the soft mounds, feeling the weight of them in your palm. Her nipples are so hard, erect, begging for your touch, and you don’t want to disappoint—could never—so you pinch and twist them, watching her face contort with pleasure, feeling her pussy tighten around you as she cries out.
“No one can take this big fucking cock like I can—down my throat, in my cunt.” It’s a declaration—loud and proud, for every single person in the hospital to know.
“Jealous?” You grunt out the word, hoarse, rough. “Thinking about me fucking other woman like I fuck you? Making them scream—making them cum as hard as I’m about to make you?”
You can see the twist in Yeji’s face, how her pupils dilate as your words sink in. There’s a war playing out on her face, jealousy and desire, the mere thought of you fucking other woman making her pussy spasm around you. “Oh, fuck you! You would ruin them, honey, they wouldn’t be able to take you. Or is that what you want to hear? Some cute bitch screaming: ‘oh baby, oh please, oh daddy, I can’t take it—I can’t take this big fucking cock!’”
There’s truth in the mockery, and there’s a dark thrill in Yeji’s jealousy. But now’s not the time for anything (or anyone) else but her—you’re too close, too far gone, your cock throbbing with the need to spill into her.
“Only I can take it, it’s mine, mine, mine.” She’s soaking you, so needy, so deep, so fucking filthy as she whines over your cock. “You better keep fucking me—only me—or I will make your life hell.”
“Show me then,” you challenge her, and you can see something flash across her eyes—something primal, something rough.
“I’m yours,” she declares again, riding you in a way that can only be described as pure art, her whole body moving in perfect harmony with a singular goal—to be absolutely wrecked by your cock. “All yours, nobody else’s. And you’re mine.”
It takes one hard pump into her tight, sweaty body and she’s falling into you, her body pressed on top of you, her forehead pressed against yours. It’s electric, the connection between your bodies, a jolt of pleasure surging through your cock and her cunt until all that matters is the feel of her fucking you like her life depends on it.
It’s love at every thrust, every gasp and moan. Nothing but Yeji on top of you, her soft skin pressed against you, her heartbeat racing against yours, her wetness coating your cock like a silk glove. Not just pleasure, you’re claiming each other—she’s whispering it in your ear, whispering your name like a promise, a declaration of war against anyone who would dare to come between you.
“Fuuuck.” Yeji bites down on your shoulder, digs her nails in your skin, squeezes her pussy around you like a vice. “I’m gonna do it again,” she mewls, “this cock—your beautiful cock—is gonna make me cum all over again.”
She’s chasing that precious feeling, desperate for it, her hips moving in erratic circles, determined to bring you with her. You can feel it too, the beginnings rising from the base of your cock, the tension in your balls. You want to hold on, to make this last, but at this point it’s like trying to hold back a tidal wave.
“Give—fuck—give me more!” Yeji’s eyes are squeezed shut; her mouth open in a silent scream as she grinds down on you, her body trembling with the effort to keep her balance. You can see the tension in every line of her body, how her abs clench, her toes curl. It's like watching a live wire, and you're the one holding the current. "Nobody can fuck me like you do—fuck—nobody can take you like I can!"
You wrap your arm around her shoulder, holding her tight, wrenching control from her, making her prove her words with every forceful thrust. You’re going to be in pain later, but fuck all that—Yeji’s so wet, so tight, so fucking hot—she’s a force of nature, and you’re just the lucky fuck that gets to be in the eye of the storm.
“You’re going to cum in me, now, okay? I’m going to cum so fucking hard and then you’re going to cum right inside me.” Yeji’s completely given herself over to you, letting you fuck her, use her, she’s all yours anyway. “Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!”
And then she’s there, her cunt gripping you like a fist, her walls pulsing and quivering around you. Yeji’s eyes fly open, her gaze locks onto yours, and she’s cumming hard.
Her orgasm rips through her body, she’s choking your cock with pussy, muscles tightening and release in a painful rhythm, and all she can do is shake and cry out every filthy word she knows, every sweet noise she can make as she spills and creams and comes apart on top of you.
“It’s too much,” Yeji’s barely holding on, panting incessantly, “too-fucking-much—too-fucking-much!”
The way she looks, the way she fucks, the way she cums—it’s a thing of beauty, an absolute fucking honour to witness—every twitch, every shiver, every gasp that falls from her swollen lips. Her nails pierce your skin, her teeth threaten to draw blood, her eyes wide and wild as her climax crashes over her.
“Please-please-fucking-please!”
But she doesn’t stop. If anything, she’s becoming more insistent, more urgent, fucking back against you again, her hips moving in a blur, taking you like a woman possessed. She’s pleading for you, pleading for you to give in, to let go, to follow her into bliss. Yeji’s a woman on a mission—to make you feel her, to make you fill her and you realise that maybe this isn’t just about jealousy anymore—it’s about making you know in every fibre of your being that your cum belongs in her cunt and her cunt only.
"Give it to me," Yeji demands, “I need you to—please—fuck—cum in me!”
Every word’s a trigger, sending you spiralling over the edge. It’s been building for an eternity now, an unbearable pressure needing to find a home in Yeji’s scorching, sopping wet pussy.
“Kiss me—I need you to—need to taste—fuck—please—kiss me now!”
There’s nothing left to do but obey, bringing your hand to the back of her neck and pulling her down into a fierce, bruising kiss. Your mouths crash together, your tongues dance and entangle, your teeth clash, and all the while Yeji’s clenching around you, cunt contracting in an effort to keep you still, keep you together.
“Fill me.”
A final, triumphant spear into her and your gone—releasing, spurting your cum deep inside her—so hard, so hot, so intense, emptying everything, all of you, every last drop into her greedy pussy.
“Yesssssss—this—this is what I needed.” Yeji hums a satisfied note into your collarbone, so full, so complete, so content. She’s still slowly rocking her hips back and forth, still pulsing around you, milking you dry. “I feel so…full.”
She dissolves into a puddle in your arms, nuzzling her head into the crook of your neck. Your hand finds its way to her back, tracing gentle circles, rubbing away the tension that’s been built up, the strain she’s put her body through.
She’s warm, she's so alive, and you can feel her heart beating against your chest, a stilted, hurried rhythm that's gradually slowing down. You kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, anywhere you can reach without having to strain yourself. It’s a gentle reassurance, making sure that for all the fucking and the filthiness, she knows that no matter what happens, you’re there to make sure she’s okay.
Yeji whispers an “I love you,” her words like a balm to your soul. “I really, really, fucking love you, you know?”
“I know, Yeji,” you say, low enough for only her to hear. “I really, really, fucking love you too.”
There’s still the embers of your shared climax resonating through your bodies, the come down from an epic high that’s left the two of you a tangled mess of limbs and hospital sheets. You both lay there, Yeji’s pussy still spasming around your cock, your cum and her juices dribbling down and pooling between your bodies.
“I was really worried about you.” Yeji whispers, vulnerable. The admission hangs in the air above you, a stark reminder of the fear and insecurity that’s been simmering just beneath the surface. “When they called me, I thought—I—I fucking hated that feeling.”
“I’m sorry,” you say. It’s all there is left to say.
“And I am really pissed about these nurses,” Yeji adds with a deadly seriousness, that only makes you smile. “I’m moving you to another hospital as soon as I can.”
“We just might have to after this,” you murmur, stroking her hair as you catch your breath. “No way they didn’t hear any of that.”
“Good.” Yeji declares, a little too intensely, too smugly.
You look down at her and can’t help but chuckle. “Well aren’t you all happy and copacetic now?”
Yeji looks back at you, pauses, and then grins. “Copa-what-tic?”
You can only roll your eyes. “Copacetic.”
“Wow,” Yeji starts, her voice back up an octave, laced with sickly sweetness. “Such a big, complicated word. You’re so smart.”
“Uh huh.”
“And these muscles too! Look at you all pumped and sweaty. Have you been working out?” Yeji teases, her cheeks still flushed a bright pink shade. She reaches down to give your bicep a gentle squeeze, mouthing an exaggerated ‘wow’ in amazement of its size.
“I did just finish a pretty intense workout. Might’ve even got another concussion from having my brains fucked out.”
“In that case, as your nurse it’s my responsibility to get you good and clean.” Yeji’s kissing you again, soft and slow. “Come on now, let me give you a good, nice scrub.”
“Is this going to be a reciprocal thing, you wash my back, I wash yours?”
“Why don’t you come with me and find out?” Yeji slides off your cock, peeling herself off your sticky body, and lifts herself up and off the bed.
You watch as she stretches, her body a glorious mess of grace and sweat and cum, and for a moment you’re just in awe of her. She’s glowing, and she’s not even trying.
“Aren’t you going to join me?” Yeji winks, already sauntering away from you and towards the bathroom, her hips swaying, her ass calling for you with each perfect bounce. “It’s time for some serious physical therapy. Nurse’s orders.”
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Billy and the Robins
Marvel has met all the Robins up until now. Like, let’s say Billy has been doing this for like eight maybe ten years. This Billy as Marvel met Dick a year before he became Nightwing, met Jason all the way through until his death, met Tim, and met Damian. He’s also been able to connect them to their new vigilante identities almost immediately. Now, Damian still is Robin and of course, Tim going from Robin to Red Robin isn’t too hard to figure out but I can see him doing this to the other two:
*Nightwing just joins the Justice League and all is looking swell so far. His first mission is with Captain Marvel and he remembers the dude being pretty nice. The mission goes well and they’re on their way back to the Watchtower.*
*Two are talking about whatever*
Marvel: *Pauses mid convo and stares at Nightwing a bit before he does a little finger snap* “Oh! That’s where I know you from! You’re Robin! Dude, it is so cool you became your own hero. The blue’s awesome.”
Nightwing: *Has a mini-heart attack* “Wha? Psshh… Dude, I’m not Robin.”
Marvel: “Uh… Yeah you are? You guys have the same” *gestures to Nightwing*
Nightwing: “The same what?”
Marvel: “You know. The same” *gestures to Nightwing again* Nightwing: “You do know that doesn’t tell me anything… right?”
or
*Zatanna, her father, and Constantine are unavailable to help with a magic artifact. This led Bruce to begrudgingly ask Billy for help. At the scene are Bruce, Billy, Damian, Cassandra, and Jason. Bruce is briefing them on something Marvel isn’t listening to as he stares at Jason trying to figure out why he’s familiar.*
Marvel: *cuts Bruce off* “Aren’t you Robin number 2?” *ignores the stares as he looks at Jason.*
*silence from literally everyone*
Marvel: “Holy moly. You’re like 6’2.” (He says as if his Marvel form isn’t like 6’11. I love freakishly tall Marvel) “You used to be so tiny!”
Red Hood: *Gets hit in the face with a flashback*
//Flashback//
(Recently adopted Jason)
Jason: *sitting on a couch in one of the Watchtower’s rec rooms eyeing a box of donuts on a coffee table.*
Marvel: *walks into rec room with the intent to steal said donuts as food for Billy. Sees Jason.* “Robin?” *Walks over.* “You look… different.”
Jason: *fumbling for words, slightly surprised a hero came up to talk to him* “Oh uh- I’m not Robin- Your Robin. The Robin that you know.”
Marvel: “Yeah, well, that’s kinda obvious. You’re all skin and bones, kid.”
*The joke was met with no laughs and a look of hurt.*
Marvel: “Not- not that I’m saying it’s a bad thing! As somebody who frequently lived on ketchup sandwiches and sugar water at your age,” (as if he isn’t still that age, and still lives like that) “trust me when I say, I’m not making fun of you.” *grabs the box of donuts and offers it to Jason* “Look, why don’t you take one of these, or maybe a couple. I saw you eying them when I walked in. I’m sorry if you got upset at what I said.” *really doesn’t want Jason to cry*
Jason: *grabs two donuts. Chocolate and strawberry* “Why?”
Marvel: “Why what?”
Jason: “Why’d you live like that at my age?” (He finds it surprising this guy, this hero, lived like that at some point.)
Marvel: *contemplates whether or not telling Jason is a good idea for like 3 seconds before he throws it out the window* “I was homeless.” *shrugs*
Jason: “Oh. Me too.” *nibbles on one of the donuts*
*After a while of awkward conversation, Marvel soon gets Jason to open up and they branch away from the topic homelessness and spiral into other topics. Jason goes back to Bruce with a smile on his little face*
*After that, and a couple more encounters between the two, Marvel was the first person Jason bee-lined too at the Watchtower. Of course, not before saying hi to Wonder Woman. Greek heroes hold a special place in his heart for some reason.*
//End of Flashback//
*Under the helmet, Jason’s face slowly reddens in embarrassment and he just facepalms, not caring that he hit the metal of his helmet as he went through memories upon memories of little him following Marvel around like a little duckling.*
#billy batson#jason todd#red hood#batman#bruce wayne#nightwing#richard grayson#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#shazam#fawcett city#fawcett#fawcett comics
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2
You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.
[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]
warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.
The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.
They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.
It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.
You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.
The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.
The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.
But the next battle was worse.
It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.
It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.
You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.
But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.
One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.
Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.
It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.
Cassian.
He'd been run through.
It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'
'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.
You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'
He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.
You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'
He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'
'Do it yourself,' you groaned.
Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.
Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.
Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.
Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.
That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.
It only got worse.
Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.
It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.
And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.
Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.
'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.
You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'
'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.
'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'
And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.
You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-
An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.
You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.
'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'
You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?
'Y'n.'
You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'
'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.
'Elian, Azriel-'
'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.
'Feyre isn't strong enough.'
'She'll have to be.'
'You should take them, Elian-'
'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'
Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.
Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.
Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.
'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.
He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.
Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.
Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.
You hated your brother for a long moment.
Elain wondered over, chained but whole.
Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.
The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.
Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'
He didn't have to be told twice.
You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.
You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.
You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.
He was thinking of you when it snapped.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.
His shadows whispered it.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
y/n.
And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.
You, lying in your own blood. Again.
He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.
'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'
Mate. Mate. Mate.
You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'
'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'
Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'
Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.
She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.
Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'
'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.
'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.
'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?
'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.
'What?' said Rhys.
'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.
He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'
Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.
They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.
'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.
Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.
You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.
Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'
'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'
Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.
Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'
'She-She told me,'
Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.
His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.
Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'
'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.
Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'
Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.
Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.
You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.
He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.
Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.
Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.
Cassian held him back, physically.
Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.
Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'
He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'
'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'
Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'
Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'
'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'
Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'
He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'
Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'
‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'
'Of course I cared.'
'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'
‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'
'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'
Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'
Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.
And then all Azriel could feel, was you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.
Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.
There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...
That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.
The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.
The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.
You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.
Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.
'What happened?' you asked.
'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.
'Oh.'
'You're my mate.'
Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'
'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'
You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'
'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'
'It's-it's not a big deal.'
'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'
'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.
'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.
'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.
He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'
'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'
'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'
You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.
Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'
'What?'
He gulped.
You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'
He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'
'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'
Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'
You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'
He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'
'Because of the bond?'
'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'
You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'
'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'
You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?
'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.
You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.
One person in the whole world to belong to.
And he was stuck with her.
'Azriel-'
'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'
You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'
'You're everything.'
'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'
Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'
You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.
'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.
You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'
'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'
You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.
But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.
'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'
Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'
You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'
'It's not that-'
'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'
'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'
'I can't ask you to do that.'
He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'
You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.
Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'
'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'
'Mother above,' you sighed.
'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'
'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.
You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.
He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.
Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.
For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?
Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.
Your family, safe.
Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.
You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.
And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.
If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.
After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.
Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.
'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.
'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.
Rhysand.
You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'
'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'
You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'
'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.
You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.
Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'
'Well, don't give me ideas.'
His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'
You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.
The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.
Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'
You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.
'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'
'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'
'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'
'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'
He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'
You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'
'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'
You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.
'You'll always be my sister.'
You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'
'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'
The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.
'What's going on with you two?'
'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'
He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'
You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.
'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'
You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.
'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.
Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.
Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.
Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'
'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.
'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'
Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.
You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.
It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.
'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.
'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.
After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.
Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.
Hesitantly, you followed in.
It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.
And yet, strangely familiar.
'I made this place,' said Azriel.
You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'
'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'
You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.
'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'
He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.
Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'
You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.
'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.
Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'
Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.
Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'
You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'
He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'
Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.
'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'
Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.
His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.
You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'
But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Taglist: @tothestarsandwhateverend @darlingbravebelle @lil-lupa @haileycannotcometothephantom @fairywriter-oracle @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @unleashthelion @naturakaashi @aurora1115 @sirens-and-moonflowers @azriels-shadowsinger @willowpains @crazylokonugget @abysshaven @anuttellaa @wishfulwithwine @one-big-fangirl @harrystylesfan2686 @charlotteintumbleland @mellowarcadefun @starseedsamurai
#azriel x cassian x reader#azriel x you#azriel x reader#azriel#acotar#rhysand#cassian#nesta archeron#feyre archeron#azriel x oc#azriel x elain#azriel x female!reader#azriel x original character#swifties
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TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME. you dope, have a player ‘bout to choke, i was at a loss for words first time that we spoke.
CHAPTER ONE! pairing, paige bueckers x teammate!oc. notes, new ju series just dropped who clapped… i’m so excited for this so please let me know what you think and what you wanna see!!! it’ll feature a few different tropes (these bitches are complicated as hell) and i’ll be using different songs. this was also supposed to be out yesterday whoops. warnings, not much just some slight rivalry.
april, 2022
paige sat on the floor, her back pressed against azzi’s bed, eyes staring blankly at her phone screen. the dorm was packed to the brim, all of her teammates crammed into the room, waiting for the news to drop. she wasn’t sure why her palms felt clammy, or why her heart was hammering harder than it should be for a thursday night in late april… or she was completely sure and refused to come to terms with it.
we’re really doing this again, huh?
it had been weeks since the national championship loss, and yet the sting still hadn’t faded. south carolina. dawn staley’s generational ran gamecocks who got almost everything, including that damn sana caruso.
for years, their careers had paralleled each other, both rising basketball stars, always in the spotlight, always part of the same conversations. and yet, for reasons paige couldn’t quite figure out for the life of her, they had never crossed paths. sana was stubborn, that much she knew. paige remembered the day south carolina landed her—it had been all anyone could talk about. opinions flew in every direction: sana should’ve gone to stanford, to ucla, anywhere but there. paige couldn’t lie—part of her had wondered why uconn hadn’t even been in the mix, but it was now, and the blonde felt like she was reliving that evening in 2019 all over again.
wherever she ended up, it would be some news that would flip the script. impact their season, because sana was undoubtedly everywhere. the defensive mastermind, the one who didn’t care if she was 5’10 going up against post players towering over her. she locked them down, put up numbers, and somehow always found her way into the conversation, even when paige tried not to pay attention.
they were talked about like rivals, the head of every one of their matchups, but there had never been any real competition, at least not on the court. paige couldn’t remember a time they’d even properly interacted. but despite how much they were constantly compared, sana had made it painfully clear that paige might as well not exist in her world, and it was infuriating as hell.
“you think she’s really coming?” azzi asked, her voice soft and almost like she didn’t believe it herself as she cut through paige’s thoughts. no one did.
aaliyah, sprawled out on the floor, rolled her eyes. it’d been pushing 10 o’clock, and almost everyone had class in the morning. what had that been stopping, though? absolutely nothing. “if dorka doesn’t hurry up with the article, we’ll never know.”
“hey, be patient.” dorka threw her hand up, shooting her teammates some tight-lipped grin as she furiously scrolled through her phone. “they’re slow with these drops.”
“thats that uconn wifi,” aubrey mumbled, sending everyone into different variations of a laugh.
nika snorted. “nah, she’s right. it’s either that or we’ve got like, fifty million people trying to figure out where sana’s going.”
“bro, you know espn’s probably crashed by now,” aaliyah chipped in, leaning back on her elbows.
paige didn’t know why, but it bugged her that sana had never really acknowledged her—like, at all. not a comment, not a follow, not even a glance her way during games. paige wasn’t used to that. she wasn’t used to being ignored, and their minimal interactions only made the internet have more of a field day with that non-existent rivalry, and if sana weren’t to say anything, why would paige?
and now here they were, possibly about to be on the same team. paige had no clue how that was going to play out, but the thought of it made her stomach flip. it was like some cosmic joke.
“yo, i’m serious though,” aaliyah said, slowly rising from her spot on the floor. “how wild is this? if she really comes here, we’re stacked. that chip is ours this year.”
the blonde suddenly felt defensive. they didn’t need sana caruso to get that chip for them. “she’s not coming here,” paige blurted, half to herself, shaking her head. “no way.”
“why not?” azzi asked, narrowing her eyes. “i mean, all signs point here, right? unless i’m crazy.”
“yeah, but it’s sana,” paige replied as if it were the most obvious thing, running a hand through her hair. “she does what she wants, she’s the type to pick somewhere else just ‘cause everyone thinks she’s coming here.”
“you sound so stupid! and in denial,” nika snickered, throwing herself back into the couch. “just admit you want her on the team, paige.”
paige shot her a look, but couldn’t quite hide the smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “i don’t care what she does.” she pointed at her chest, sinking further into her spot. “she could go anywhere.”
“sure,” dorka added, inserting herself into the conversation. her eyes didn’t leave her screen as she continued to refresh her browser, almost like she didn’t have to. “because that’s exactly why you’ve been all up in your head about her this whole time.”
“hey, wait. don’t do that.” but it was too late, her teammates had already been throwing out their ‘ooh’s,’ like this were some kindergarten class. but the truth was, she couldn’t deny it. there was something about sana that had her all twisted up, more than she cared to admit. maybe it was the way she carried herself, like she didn’t need anyone’s approval, or the fact that she always seemed to be a step ahead. and it didn’t help that she was ridiculously pretty. like, stupidly pretty. the kind of pretty that got under paige’s skin and made her feel something, even when she tried to act like it was no big deal.
maybe that was what really irked her all these years.
“nah, for real, though,” paige said, trying to keep her cool, “she’s different. she’ll probably pull some wild move and end up at notre dame or something.”
“notre dame?” azzi shot her a confused look. “you’re reaching now.”
“i’m just saying!” paige replied through a laugh, although it was mainly just a gesture to defend herself. shrugging and throwing her hands up in surrender. “she doesn’t follow the crowd. everyone thinks she’s coming here because it makes sense, but you know sana—”
“you don’t know sana,” aubrey cut in with a laugh. “that’s the problem.”
“you sound really passionate about this, paige,” nika laughed out, always the one getting the biggest kick out of things like this. she was always in the mood to tease her twin.
paige opened her mouth to argue, but she stopped short, because aubrey wasn’t exactly wrong. she didn’t know sana, at least not personally. she’d known this version she made up of her in her head, the one that frustrated her to no end, the one she couldn’t ever figure out. and while she did that, sana, with her perfectly highlighted curls that framed her perfect face that always held that stupid fucking smirk probably hadn’t even thought twice about paige bueckers once in her damn life.
“you’ve definitely thought about this way too much,” azzi said, chuckling herself. “like, more than any of us.”
paige threw her head back, groaning. “why is this about me all of a sudden?”
“‘cause you’re acting like she’s been living in your head rent-free for years,” nika teased again, her next laugh coming out in a sputter. this entire thing had clearly been amusing someone.
“yeah, okay, whatever,” paige mumbled, crossing her arms.
“hey, don’t worry,” dorka said, eyes glued to her phone as she moved her hand to rest on paige’s thigh comfortably, consolingly. “you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what’s going on in that head of hers.”
paige raised a brow, lifting her head and turning to the other blonde. “what do you mean?”
dorka’s grin widened as she looked up, everyone’s attention turning back to her. “because she’s coming here. she’s ours, guys!”
for a second, the room went dead silent, the words hanging in the air like they needed time to settle in.
then, chaos.
sana caruso is a uconn husky, meaning paige bueckers could finally figure out what made the girl tick.
july, 2022
the gym was full—more than usual. everyone was there for the first day of summer workouts, even the players sitting out due to injuries. there was the familiar sound of sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor, and the faint trace of cleaning solution still lingering from the early morning scrubs. july in storrs was hot, too. the kind of heat that clung to your skin and didn’t let go, even inside the gym.
the team was standing around near the sidelines, waiting to start. geno had the new recruits huddled, running through some preseason talk, but all paige could think about was sana—standing a few feet away. they’d obviously been in the same room before, the same gym before, but today felt all too intimate. as it should, though. they were teammates now. hell, they’d be sharing the backcourt.
this would be the first time she’d see her up close—really up close—since everything went down. the transfer news, the headlines, the pics of sana decked out in uconn gear flooding her feed (a sight paige needed to mentally prepare for because damn, did she look good in white and navy blue). it had all felt surreal then, but now, it was about to be real real.
what’s she even thinking right now? paige wondered, feeling a slight pinch of annoyance. because as much as she wanted to believe this was just another day in the gym, it wasn’t. not for her.
when handshakes started, paige couldn’t even hear her own thoughts due to the loudness as everyone went through the routine of greeting the new faces. paige made her way through her teammates, exchanging quick daps and nods, her focus drifting back to sana more times than she’d like to admit.
the blonde was normally more noisy, doing everything in her power to get on with the people she’d be spending the season with. but right now, her interaction with sana would either confirm or deny every assumption she’s ever had, and that was quite frankly the only thing consuming her mind.
she could feel the intensity in her chest when it came time to shake sana’s hand. she stepped forward, hand extended, ready to make some kind of connection, but sana barely looked at her. it was quick, almost dismissive. no eye contact, no words exchanged. paige pulled her hand back, clenching her jaw as she watched her move into conversation with azzi, who seemed to earn a more genuine response than paige could get. a smile, and a giggle that could’ve been mistaken for music.
seriously?
the team broke off, moving toward the court. this’ll be a long practice.
they lined up, and as they went through the typical routine—light shooting drills, ball-handling, footwork—it became clear that sana wasn’t just good. she was a standout. and for someone who was only 5’10 in the basketball world, she carried herself like she could take on anyone, work with anyone, too, no matter the size or position.
“she got handles,” nika muttered under her breath. the comment was meant for the girls around her to catch and respond to, but paige just stood, eye squinted and arms crossed.
“handles? she got vision too,” ice brady, a freshman added, eyes wide as sana weaved through a defense drill, her speed and precision on full display. her ponytail swung perfectly on her head, lip tugged tightly between her teeth as she moved to make a layup. the ball went in, and ayanna moved to grab her rebound. the group cheered her on voluntarily, and paige only moved to turn her head as sana jogged past her to the back of the line, her demeanor as calm and collected as ever. and damn annoying.
the players gathered at the top of the key, forming a loose circle as they got ready to start a more structured scrimmage. paige found herself standing across from sana, their eyes meeting for the first time that morning, but the moment left as quick as it started. sana had her hands on her hips, listening intently to geno as if she didn’t already know what they’d be doing, because the blonde wasn’t supposed to have caught her looking.
“let’s run it!” geno’s voice snapped through the gym again, clapping his hands once, and the team split into two sides as directed, ready to play.
as the scrimmage began, paige tried to shake off the weird tension and focus, although it wasn’t really working. nothing had ever managed to get her off-game this bad. it was the escape, after all, so why did it feel like it would be causing her more problems now? she ran the court as a point guard, eyes scanning for plays, calling out switches, directing traffic. but every time the ball moved to sana, paige noticed the same thing—she’d find a way to dish it to someone else. anyone but her.
what the hell?
on a fast break, paige found herself wide open again, just outside the three-point line. she threw her hands up, calling for the pass. sana had the ball at the top of the key, and paige practically begged for some type of acknowledgment that she didn’t get. but instead of passing, sana faked it and lobbed it to aaliyah under the basket for an easy layup. paige didn’t even move. she just stood there, hands still raised, eyes burning into her ponytail.
“alright, switch it up!” geno called, and the team rotated.
the ball was in her hands now, and she dribbled down the court, eyes searching for a play, trying to shake off the irritation in her chest. the worst part was that no one seemed to notice, because sana had a way of singling the blonde out in a way that made her think she was fucking crazy. she passed to nika, and they rotated again, the pace of the scrimmage picking up.
it finally came to a head when they were working on a transition drill. paige had the ball, racing down the court, and sana was on the wing. paige pushed the tempo, looking for an outlet, but sana cut her off at the last second, forcing her to pull up and reset the play.
that was it. paige lost it.
“yo! if we’re gonna work the backcourt together, you’ve gotta work with me,” she snapped, her voice only turning a few rather concerned heads. she stopped dribbling, staring at sana, her breath coming out in heavy bursts.
sana finally turned to face her, full body and everything, their eyes locking for what felt like the first time all day.
she wasn’t angry, wasn’t startled by paige’s tone. she was calm like she always was, and the slight tilt of her head only pissed paige off more. she was looking right at her now, really looking, and all the playful cockiness that always held some undercurrent, yet always came so naturally to paige, was just gone.
damn.
she didn’t know why she was still standing there, seething, waiting for sana to say something after her outburst. and when she finally spoke, it wasn’t the apology or acknowledgment paige might have been expecting.
“you’re pressing,” sana said, her voice maddeningly casual. like there had been no heat from the beginning. “you’re rushing everything. it’s like you’re trying to do too much.”
paige blinked, caught off guard. rushing? she almost laughed. her jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the ball. she hated how calm sana was, how she managed to deliver criticism like she was just making an observation. “too much?” she shot back, stepping closer. “i’m just trying to get us moving, trying to get you involved. but it seems like you’re more interested in doing your own thing.” she hated that every time she tried to connect with sana on the court, it felt like she was hitting a wall.
but she also hated that she cared about it so much.
sana didn’t break, expression remaining composed, annoyingly unreadable with her short manicured nails digging into her hip. “you think running the floor means you’re the only one who gets to call the shots? that’s not how i play.”
paige blinked, trying to regain her footing, mentally and physically. “you’re not even trying to work with me!” her voice raised a bit as she addressed what had been bothering her before, causing a few heads to turn. the exchange didn’t look entirely friendly after all. “every time i’m open, you’re looking the other way.” she pointed to the court.
sana’s eyes narrowed slightly, some kind of look crossing her face—was it amusement? “it’s not personal, paige. it’s basketball.” it was the first time the blonde’s name left her mouth, first time she felt like an actual person to her, and it still didn’t feel good.
sana, on the other hand, was watching her closely, reading paige’s reaction like she was still deciding how much of this back-and-forth was worth it. she knew she was poking at her ego, but she also thought that ego could use a little deflating. everyone talked about her like she was the second coming of basketball itself, and while sana could respect her talent, the way everyone hung on her every move grated on her.
sana wasn’t jealous. not even a little bit. she wasn’t wired like that. but that didn’t mean she was going to be another cog in the well-oiled bueckers machine. she never liked to make things more complicated than they needed to be, and basketball? basketball was supposed to be simple. play smart, play efficient, make the right decisions. that’s why she was here. that’s why geno recruited her. she didn’t bring flash—she brought results. she played smooth, and if she wasn’t in charge, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone treat her like a sidekick. especially not paige bueckers.
she was willing to work with her, of course. sana was well aware of what her transfer meant, how good it would be for the both of them if people stopped pitting them against each other. but it didn’t mean she would warm up straight away. they’d make an unstoppable duo—if they could just figure out how to coexist.
“look, i’m just saying, you’re pushing too hard. sometimes it’s about playing smart, not playing fast.”
paige’s stomach churned at the implication. she wasn’t just some showboat out there. it felt like a direct shot to everything she stood for.
“you think i’m not playing smart?”
sana raised an eyebrow, her lips curling just slightly. “i think you’re playing like you’ve got something to prove.”
and that stopped paige cold. she’d proven enough. but the way sana was looking at her, cool and detached, like she could see right through her, made her feel small despite her taller figure. it wasn’t anger that sana was giving her—it was indifference. like she didn’t even care enough to be mad.
“run it again!” geno yelled, and they did.
paige inhaled sharply, chewing on her lip as she clutched the ball to her side, watching as sana jogged off, obeying orders immediately. she could feel the eyes of her teammates on her, especially nika, who was biting back a grin from the sidelines, one hundred percent sure her best friend just got schooled. dorka raised an eyebrow at her, silently urging her to keep her cool.
they lined up for the play again, the ball bouncing back into paige’s hands. she hated it, but sana’s words echoed in her head. pressing… rushing… trying too hard. as much as she didn’t want to admit it, maybe she was pressing. maybe she was letting this whole situation get to her in ways she shouldn’t.
when the whistle blew, paige instinctively took control again, charging down the court. but she couldn’t stop herself from hesitating for just a second, looking toward sana on the wing. without overthinking it, she passed the ball to her, her hands moving almost against her will.
sana caught it, knees bent and ready before driving to the basket. she didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch. she just played, like she always did. the ball went in, and the play was perfect, but paige didn’t feel satisfied. if anything, she felt worse. it felt like they were already at odds, and the season hadn’t even started yet.
it had worked. but it was because she’d done what sana said. and if it wasn’t personal before, it definitely was now.
#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers x reader#uconn x reader#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers headcannons#paige bueckers uconn#uconn huskies#uconn#paige bueckers fluff#paige bueckers smut#paige x reader#wlw fanfic#wlw smut#wlw post#lgbtq#lgbtqia#wlw blog#tcptg#ju’s fic’s 🫀
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Pinky Promise
Pinky Promise 2
Part 3
Part 4
Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.
Word count: 2k
A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C
You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.
The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.
Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.
The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.
“Seresin.”
“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.
“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.
“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.
“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?
“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.
“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.
“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.
“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.
“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.
“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.
But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.
You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.
It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.
“Yes ma’am?”
“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.
“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.
“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.
“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.
“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.
“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.
“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.
“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.
“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.
Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.
When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.
He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”
Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.
“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.
He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”
You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.
“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.
“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.
“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.
“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.
“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.
“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.
“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.
It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.
“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.
“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.
He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.
“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.
He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.
Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman
He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.
Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.
A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!
Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy
#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin#topgun maverick#top gun maverick#chelsea writes#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader
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Eddie’s live-streaming, just chattering away about nothing in particular when Steve comes into the room. Hes holding his phone away from his face, frowning at it before rolling his eyes.
The phone is not on speaker but you can clearly hear the lecture that’s Steve’s ignoring when he turns to Eddie and gives him that smile that gets him everything he wants, “Hi, baby.”
Just because Eddie is aware that he’s being played, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love the game, “Stevie, do you want something?”
“Nothing big,” Steve nods. “Just the number of that lawyer you have on retainer.”
The audience at home can visually se Eddie’s brain come to a screeching halt, “I don’t have a lawyer. My recons label has a lawyer.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Eddie leans in and whispers, “…What did you do?”
“Nothing, yet,” Steve replies, dropping the act all together. “My lawyer says she won’t defend me if I get arrested. Traitor.”
Oh, yeah. That is definitely Erica’s voice lecturing him on the phone. Cool. Eddie nods to himself, “Arrested for what?”
“I’m going to throw a rock through our neighbor’s window.”
There’s a beat where Eddie realizes he’s serious and is like, “Is that a reasonable response to a guy accidentally backing his truck into our flower bed.”
“No, we’re pass that,” Steve says over his shoulder, leaving both Eddie and his phone behind. “I’m going to burn down his house though.”
Eddie shakes his head, looks back at his live-stream but then hears a sound and is like, “Was that front door? Did he leave? Shit.”
And then Eddie’s gone.
#in fairness: Steve has never liked their neighbor Dan#a couple weeks ago Dan backed his truck into their flowerbed and nearly took out their mailbox too#and Steve didn’t do anything. he just invited El over and somehow all of Dan’s tires popped#and then Dan put a big ass spotlight in his yard that shines directly into their bedroom#and now Steve’s going to commit a crime#eddie munson tiktok saga#steve harrington#eddie munson
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Jealous! Gojo Satoru
jealous! Gojo who ignores Geto's advice, to give you time to adapt and be friends first before starting to woo you.
jealous! Gojo who practically melts every time you bite the tip of your pencil while trying to understand something particularly difficult in class.
jealous! Gojo who growls under his breath when he finds you in Nanami's arms after receiving some distressing news. Unable to think straight, gets dangerously close to lash out at the goodhearted blonde just to become an utterly inoffensive kitten, the moment he sees the tears in your eyes.
jealous! Gojo who not so discreetly asks for your number and pretends that it is for another reason other than his torrid crush on you but ends up sending you good morning and goodnight messages and all kinds of cat memes where he replaces the head with Suguru's photo.
jealous! Gojo who goes through your socials as soon as he has the chance and can’t help but grin like a maniac when he sees a picture of you. You have him at your mercy. You’re gorgeous, no! you are perfect to him! he just wants you all to himself.
jealous! Gojo who always tries to be one step ahead so that your missions are always with him, not with Suguru, not with Nanami, not with Yu...only with him, since if he is honest, he does not trust them around you.
jealous! Gojo who believes that he is slowly making his way into your heart, but he only ends up more madly in love with you, until one day he can't resist it anymore and holds your hand... and to his surprise, you don't ask him to let you go but just say adorably blushing: Your hands are so big and warm, Satoru.
jealous! Gojo who now walks hand in hand with you almost all the time, when you go to class, when he takes you to your dorm at night and even when Geto claims he's delusional, he insists, you guys are already dating.
jealous! Gojo who finally confesses his feelings for you and refuses to let you answer by kissing you, igniting a steamy hot make out session which leaves you breathless, whatever negative reply you had, its lost and even your reluctance goes to the back of your head, in order, to give him a chance.
jealous! Gojo who is over the moon, elated you ‘agreed’ and now you let him hold you whenever he wants. “Satoru, don’t be so clingy” Geto had said but he only stuck his tongue at him, every time the raven-haired tried to latch his hands away from you another came to replace it. Making Satoru smirk, wickedly. “God. Suguru, are you jealous?”
jealous! Gojo who slowly begins to let out his true possessive self, making comments about the most random things, like your skirt: "Isn't it too short, beautiful? I love it but I would hate for you to attract the attention of unwanted people" about your classmates: "I know that Nanami and Yu are your besties but with me by your side, do you really need to be so close to them?" slowly monopolizing your time for himself, after all he is not only your boyfriend but also your upper classmate, surely he only wants the best for you.
jealous! Gojo who literally breaks Naoya's nose when he blatantly hits on you at a meeting. "Back off, Zenin!" His eyes glowed ferally, to which Naoya just indifferently wiped the traces of blood with the back of his hand, tsking his tongue, nonchalantly. "She's not even THAT pretty, Gojo." All the available sorcerers had to separate them to prevent them from killing each other. You remember there being so much blood.
jealous! Gojo Who becomes even more jealous after that incident, scaring off any male that gets too close to you but claiming it's for your own safety, only those closest to him are allowed around but not for a long time.
jealous! Gojo who changes your mind with sex feats that blow your fucking mind away. "Nanami is my best friend, I’m going to the movies with him, period!" Gojo is bending you on his knee to spank that attitude out of you and when hears the first attempt of a sob, he pulls your panties down and massages the sore skin gently as he eats your pretty tight cunt until you are a shivering, moaning mess. "Suguru told me he saw you flirting with the girl tending the mochi shop" Gojo's pummeling his hips against your thighs, deep and steady, to make you forget his attempt to get free stuff, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh so loud and lewd that you even forget what you were complaining about, he’s fucking pounding your sensitive pussy till it’s puffy and leaking with his cum. He’s a little toxic like that.
jealous! Gojo who likes having you all to himself, he doesn't want to share you with anyone, not even Shoko or Mei, he loves you so damn much he could explode. He loves having you with him, having you on top of him, under him, against him. He's not your favorite sitting place but sure as hell, he always makes himself the only seat available. You actually don't remember how it feels to sit on something other than his muscular thighs… Shoko once said that he loves you more than is probably healthy to him.
jealous! Gojo who becomes more possessive with each passing day, growing more toxic and more aggressive when he believes that someone wants to take you away from him but loves you so, SO much that you can't help but forgive him every time, since he always promises that his blue eyes only see you, and so it will be FOREVER. You're not sure how you feel about the eternal part of that promise, but it certainly makes you feel like the most protected person in the entire planet.
I MADE SOME SICK SFW/NSFW ARTS FOR THIS DRABBLE, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. ;)
#gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo drabbles#satoru fluff#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#gojo x oc#fanfiction#satoru smut#jjk writing#jjk#satoru x you#satoru fanfic#gojo smut#gojo satoru#gojo x you#jealousy#jjk smut
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show me | l. at
virgin!anton x fem. reader | 7.5k words
stop writing fics with mutual hopeless pining challenge FAILED.
contains: loss of virginity
“are you going on a date next week?”
you tried to sound even as you asked the question. you hid behind your phone while you spoke, only turning your head to the side to see anton’s reaction. you swore you could feel him tense beside you on the bed before he went back to his phone, swiping away on some social media app as he nodded his head.
“i didn’t know you knew about that.” anton said simply.
you went back to your own phone, trying desperately to ignore the way your stomach dropped.
“your mom told me.” you responded.
you could hear anton sigh beside you, mentally cursing himself for trusting his mom with such personal information.
“we are going to go eat.” anton slid down his notification window on his phone, probably too see if his soon to be girlfriend had texted him “then we are going to watch a movie at her place.” he said.
knowing the details of the date made the pain significantly worse. it was already bad enough that you felt perpetually stuck in the friend zone with anton. the two of you were always like this—at one point in time all you wanted was to be his friend. but you grew up and so did he, and as your personalities began to differ you saw him as less of a friend and more as a partner.
it didn’t help that skinship with anton never changed. you two would still hold hands like you did when you were kids, and you two laid in beds and sat so close together on couches that your thighs would touch. one day you saw it platonically and one day you did not. you felt your body become hot when anton would get too close, and you would hesitate for no reason. anton was oblivious to it all, so much so that he started letting himself be pursued by girls. you had no choice but to watch it happen, girls that didn’t pay attention to anton talked to him now couldn’t get enough of him. you sat quietly, forced to seem as neutral as possible when they would curiously ask you what anton’s type was.
one girl was able to break through, giving anton his number and eventually asking him out on a date. this is what you gathered from his mother, atleast. she took you aside when you first came into their house, curiously asking you what you knew about a girl named belle. you remembered her, one of the more recent girls that tried for anton’s attention. you told her what you knew, that she was a girl who seemed nice. anton’s mother gave you a knowing smile as she told you anton had a date with her next week. she always had that smile on her face when she spoke to you now, especially when she caught you and anton sitting next to eachother on the couch when there was so much room left on the sofa.
you couldn’t hide your shock, quickly walking up to anton’s room as his mom was on her way out. something about running low on groceries and picking up anton’s brother from practice. everything was lost on you, the only thing occupying your mind was the thought of anton going on a date next week.
you tried to keep it to yourself, atleast until anton decided to tell you himself. but as you laid next to anton on his bed watching him scroll wordlessly on his phone you felt the question bubbling in the back of your throat. when you saw a notification from her pop up on anton’s phone you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing it up.
“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
anton only shrugged, clearing the notification from the top of his phone before turning off his device. he let his phone rest on his chest as he covered his eyes, an awkward laugh coming from his lips. he took his hands away, not making eye contact with you as he confessed.
“i’m embarrassed.” anton said.
he was still laughing lightly, even as the tips of his ears turned red. you shook your head, propping yourself up from the bed to look down at him.
“you’re my bestfriend, anton.” you try not to focus too much on his lips or his eyes as you try to remain neutral. “you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me anything.” you say.
anton props himself up on his elbows, his face coming closer to yours. he is significantly worse at remaining neutral. anton’s eyes immediately go to your glossy lips and stay there. he swears they sparkle in the light of his room, and our eyes stare back at him so intensely he can’t look at them for too long.
too many times you have been stuck in this position with anton. you above him, your lips dangerously close to touching his. in times like this, almost always someone would interrupt this moment. whether it was his mom coming to tell you two food was ready, his brother barging into his room unannounced, sometimes even a notification on anton’s phone would bring you two back to the present. each time there was an outside force that would pull you two apart, acting as a buffer so you two could go back into your normal habits without mentioning what happened moments earlier. but now there was nothing to break the tension or to pull you two apart. it was only you, anton, an empty house, and unresolved feelings that existed in the space between your lips.
when you shifted on the bed and your hand got closer to anton’s body he couldn’t stop himself.
“i’ve never been with anyone before.” he rushed.
you blinked, pulling away from anton to sit up on the bed. you looked around the space of his room, until you circled back to him.
“is that why you’re nervous for your date? because you have no experience?” you asked.
the fog in anton’s mind almost made him ask you what date you were talking about. it wasn’t until anton’s phone rang from another texting notification that he remembered his obligation next weekend. maybe antoon was reading too much into the moment he shared with you, the shimmer on your lips distracted him. so anton nodded at your question, still feeling dizzy after being so close to kissing you.
anton sits up on his bed, leaning against his headboard as he draws his knees to his chest. he focuses on his knees, a habitual shy smile across his face as he avoids your gaze.
“i’m not prepared at all, if we go further.” anton brings one hand to scratch at the nape of his neck. “if she has experience i’m screwed.” anton says.
he can only bring himself to look at you when he feels you look away again. you look past anton to stare at his window, deep in thought as his eyes roam your side profile. you look so pretty like this, he wishes he had the nerve to tell you. part of anton wants to reach out and caress your soft cheek, something he hadn’t been able to do in so long. he has to hold himself back when you turn your head to look at him again.
“what about this.” anton sees the figurative bulb light up over your head as you shift on his bed. “what if i help you. like if i tell you what to do when you’re in that situation with her.” you say.
anton tilts his head when you paused before sayign her. the two of you have been going to school with anton’s future date for as long as he could remember. you knew belle’s name, you were her partner in a project together last week. why was belle suddenly her?
“what do you mean?” anton asked.
anton sees you feign annoyance, how even you realize what you’re proposing is ridiculous. regardless, you lean forward and move in front of anton. your balled up fists hold you upright on his bed, dipping the mattress as you try to justify your reasoning.
“i want to help you not be embarrassed.” you lean back, sitting on the back of your legs as you gently smooth out anton’s sheets with your hands “so you can become confident in expressing your feelings.” you say.
what you say fully sinks in for anton. he feels heat blossom in his chest and spread across his body like a wildfire. he doesn’t know if there’s enough confidence in the world to help anton. he can’t even bring himself to confirm what you’re offering.
“do you mean—” he stutters.
“we can go as far as you’re comfortable with.” you put your hand over anton’s quickly as if you’re trying to compensate for coming on strong. “i don’t want you to mess it up with her.” you reason.
there’s that her again.
“with belle?” anton specifies.
you don’t say her name, only nod your head as you keep your hand on anton’s. he doesn’t know if he should believe you, the situation is too confusing for anton to navigate. you were unpredictable in this way, sometimes so non-assuming you didn’t know what you were hinting at. anton had to be direct, but he had to let his heart calm down first. his eyes went back to looking at your hand resting over his. you were squeezing him at first, but your grip loosened to the point that anton feared you were going to pull away. he had to keep you there, he had to keep feeling your soft hand on top of his.
“just a friend helping another friend out?” anton asks, looking up at you from your hand.
anton sees you hesitate before you nod.
“completely as friends.” you confirm.
anton nods his head, bringing his knees down to sit criss crossed on his bed. now that you two have agreed, neither of you knew how to proceed. it was almost awkward. you felt the urge to go back on your word.
“should we start with kissing?” anton asked.
you nodded your head, scooting closer to anton on the bed. he got closer too, you could see his chest raise and fall quickly as his hands moved towards you. anton talked himself out of touching you, his hands falling back onto the top of his mattress.
“you should touch her first.” you look down at anton’s hands, wishing they were on you instead. you bring wide eyes back to anton, trying to blink away how wet they already feel. “it’s hard but making the first move from the start matters.” you say.
anton nods, bringing his hands up to your shoulder. it’s awkward, you can tell he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he hesitates on where to put it. he squeezes gently and shakes you softly, smiling at you. you smile at him for a second before a shy laugh slips out. anton does the same, giggling as he brings his free hand to cover his toothy grin.
“i don’t know if i know how to kiss.” anton giggles out truthfully.
you nod, and when your laughing subsides you bring anton’s hand from his mouth to rest on your cheek. instantly he’s caressing your skin, light as a feather as you fit into his hand perfectly.
“you can still bring her in.” anton begins pulling you in, his mouth slightly opening as his lips get closer to yours. before they can touch, you speak, desperate to cut through the tension. “let her guide you once you start and you’ll get the hang of it.” you say.
you look up to anton’s eyes one more time, and he nods again before going back to his previous position. he brings you in an you follow in closer, screwing your eyes shut your your lips finally touch.
anton melds to you like it’s second nature. he follows the curves of your lips, and only stumbles for a second before following your lead perfectly. your hand finds its way to his hair, holding the soft strands for comfort. when you tilt your head anton follows, and when you move to the other side anton does the same.
you go from pecks to lingering wet kisses. the sound of your lips parting fills the room, the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. it’s soft like anton’s hand on your cheek, how he got the courage to tilt your head up to his liking. you submit instantly, reveling in anton taking the reigns. it’s him who slips a tongue into your mouth first, and you let him explore your mouth. when his tongue presses against yours you do it back, swapping spit between eachothers mouths.
you’re the one that has to pull away for air first. you almost stay there, intoxicated by the way anton sighs contently into you. but you feel your heart is about to explode. when you finally pull away you’re breathless, looking at your fast learner in awe. anton looks at you with wide eyes, running his tongue over his glossy lips to see if he can taste you again.
“you’re a natural.” you say breathlessly.
“thank you.” anton says back.
he’s just as rattled as you, his mussed hair reflecting his scrambled mind. anton pulls you back in with both hands while you still try catching your breath, placing one last wet kiss on your lips. your hands go to his shoulders and stay there even when he pulls apart from you.
you two still hold eachother, huffing in air like you both just ran a mile. anton comes back first, eyes determined as he takes his hands away from your face.
“what’s next?” anton asks.
you have to sit there and think, not because you don’t know what comes after passionate makeout sessions. you have to gather your thoughts, thinking how you can be normal about your friendship with anton if the two of you go any further. you decide that’s something for later when anton puts his hands on your legs and gives you a look that has your heart leaping in your chest.
“she might only let you finger her since it’s the first date.” you start reaching for your pants. “you have really nice hands so that’s a plus. definitely play into that.”
you wanted to cringe at how you sounded, saying something so lewd so casually. anton was all ears though, not teasing you for the compliment you have wanted to tell him a million times before. his phone was long discarded as he sat up on his bed in front of you. he had his fisted hands pressed into the mattress beside him, flexing his fist as he listened to what you were saying. he nodded at everythin, eyes focused on new parts of your body that were exposed as you got yourself undressed. first it was your thighs and then your calfs as you struggled to take your pants off.
anton was too shy to offer his help, but something inside of him liked seeing you struggle and liked seeing you get undressed for him. before you could expose your stomach, you paused. anton’s eyes went from your thighs and how they were pressed together to your face.
“this is a disclaimer, before we go any further.” anton clenched his fist again when you let go of your shirt, letting it drape down your body again. “she might want you to do things a different way. not all girls are the same.” you say matter-of-factly.
“just show me what you like.” when your eyes got wide anton quickly defended himself. “i can figure out the rest with her when the time comes.”
you nodded your head, agreeing with his reasoning. you and anton sat like that for a minute in complete silence while you gathered your thoughts. anton was patient and he was obedient, giving you his hand instantly when you reached out for it.
you brought his hand to your face, using your own hands to bring his ring and pinky finger to his palm. when only antons thumb, index finger, and middle finger were left you guided his hand to rest on your lips. you slowly opened your mouth and anton understood, shivering while he pushed his fingers past your plush lips.
when his fingers were inside of your mouth he left them rest on top of your tongue. you nodded approvingly, and anton nodded back as he let his thumb rest underneath your chin. he took charge slightly, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks.
what you truly wanted anton to do was stick his fingers so far into your mouth that you gagged on them. but you settled for his large fingers pressing lightly on your tongue. you could see his mouth fall open as you made a show of sucking on him.
“okay now pull them out” you mumbled around his fingers.
anton nodded his head, but before he pulled out his fingers out he brought your chin forward with his thumb, eyes focused on his fingers as he stuck them further into your mouth. the entranced look in anton’s eyes distracted you, and before you could prepare yourself his fingers went too far. you gagged pathetically when anton’s fingers went past your tongue.
anton’s gaze went from his fingers in your mouth to your eyes. he had a look you had never seen, so different from the your shy bestfriend. he kept them there for a beat too short, before you could ease your throat to stop your eyes from getting glossy anton withdrew his fingers slowly. when he saw your eyes get glossy he pulled them out slowly. both of you looked at the the string of spit that connected your lip to his fingers.
“sorry” anton said sheepishly.
as fast as you saw the look in anton’s eyes it was gone, replaced with the same shy expression you were used to seeing. he kept his two fingers together in the air, waiting for your next instructions. you look down at your legs, how they pressed together. the image of anton prying them apart while he had that look in his eyes flashed across your mind. you closed your eyes before looking back up at anton with a thinking look. anton shifted on the bed as you leaned back, following your movements until you moved your legs from underneath you.
when your legs were bent in front of you, anton stayed still. his wet fingers were still in the air, drying from the cool air in his room. you smiled before reaching forward and grabbing his hand, putting it on your knee.
“make sure you always ask if everything is okay, especially if it’s the first time.” you say.
you start applying light pressure to anton’s hand on your knee, showing him to lightly spread your legs apart. he understands immediately, bringing his other hand to your other knee to part them.
“is this okay?” anton asks.
it’s genuine, the way he looks at you with big eyes. you wordlessly nod your head, leaning back to prop yourself on your hands while anton continues spreading you apart.
when you add resistance against anton’s push, he stops completely. you can see him remembering the distance between your parted knees. she is so lucky.
when a sigh slips from your lips anton’s gaze snaps up to you. you play it off well, moving your shoulders slightly to feign contemplation. before anton can ask you what next, you point your feet.
“help me take my underwear off.” you say.
any attempt to sound bossy is hindered by the hush in your voice. you’re being too soft but you can’t help it. you’re lucky anton is too focused on getting you undressed he doesn’t notice the way you bite at your lip nervously.
anton’s hands are timid as his fingers go underneath your waistband. he thinks it would be easier if he approached the situation like ripping off a bandaid, but it’s slow as he pulls your panties up to your thighs and down your knee. your pointed feet helps anton in the end, he leaves the pair next to him on the bed, dropped gently from his hand.
anton sees the first definite crack in your composure when he can’t take his eyes away from your core. you glisten and seize around nothing. the pornos he’s watched and the stories he’s heard falls short—nothing can compare to you.
“wow.” anton sighs.
your knees wobble as you try to close them in subconsciously. anton keeps them apart, slotting himself between your legs to stop them from closing completely he will fight anything that tries to obstruct his view of you. anton looks down at you to watch you change your pleased expression a beat to late.
“flattery will get you very far, anton.” you say.
you try to be sarcastic, but anton is serious as he shakes his head. one of his hands leaves your knee to press on your pearl that protrudes at the top of your cunt. you jolt from the feeling, fists balling the sheets. maybe the pornos got some things right. anton looks at your face, watching more and more of your resolve crumbles in from of him. you are stubborn, clearing your throat to try and bring back some volume to your voice.
“i’m wet already. feel it.” you say.
anton’s finger that presses your pearl drifts down. he can feel you wet and slick against his fingers. he pulls his hand away from you and rubs it between his thumb and index finger.
“that’s how you know you’re doing something atleast a little right.” you shift your hips closer to anton, inviting him to touch you some more. anton went back to touching your folds, pressing in slightly. you could tell he was looking for your hole, and you let him find on his own. you shivered as anton got closer and closer, going further down your cunt. when he found he he pressed in slightly. you showed him he was right by sighing and arching your back.
“it’s lower than i thought.” anton laughed quietly to himself.
“yeah.” you said breathlessly.
you were caught up in the feeling of anton’s probing fingers so close to being fully inside of you. you almost forgot you had a job to do as anton’s bestfriend.
“start off with just one finger. your hands are big.” you say.
anton pushes in a finger, looking up at you as he eases in. you clamp around his fingers before relaxing, allowing him to go all the way inside of you. anton pulls his finger out before pushing it back in, watching the way his digit disappears inside of you.
“holy shit.” anton whispers.
you clench around his finger, before telling him to put another finger in. anton heeds your request, adding his middle finger to sink into your cunt. you can’t stop your hand from grabbing his bicep. anton stops, and you guide him to a faster pace.
your hold on anton’s bicep doesn’t falter as he picks up the speed. when he takes it upon himself to face his palm upwards the discomfort in his wrist is gone immediately. his fingers can fuck you smoothly when he faces his palm upwards. the confidence anton gets when you close your eyes and turn your head to your shoulder makes him add another finger. he can hear your toes crack as you flex your feet, and anton sees your free hand ball up in the sheets.
“do this with your other hand if you can.”
the words fly out of your mouth at your hand on anton’s bicep goes to your clit. you show anton the speed you like immediately, touching the pearl gently in comparison to anton’s hasty pumping fingers. his free hand goes to your hand, mimicking the movements. when you’re satisfied you move your hand away, letting anton take your place. he falters for a little bit, trying to synchronize his pumping fingers to his gentle hand on your clit. soon enough he can feel you squeezing tightly against his fingers, and your eyes are screwed shut.
“i’m so close.” you say around the teeth digging into your lip.
anton nods, wishing he was good enough at multitasking to kiss your turned cheek. instead anton only nods, sitting down on his bed to get a better angle.
without his body between your legs, your knees close in on eachother. it’s pathetic, the way you whimper and withhold moans as you come undone around anton’s fingers. you’re so quiet he doesn’t know you came. so anton continues, waiting for you to call out his name and announce to him how good he’s making you feel. anton doesn’t know you came until near cries come out, and your hands go to his wrists to stop him. anton looks at you confused, until he sees the tears dotting your vision again and your shaking shoulders. anton experimentally presses a finger harshly to your clit, you jolt and whimper again.
“sorry.” anton says unapologetically.
you fall onto your back, looking up at anton’s ceiling fan. it’s completely turned off, you imagine the blades are spinning to try and occupy your mind. your knees are still closed on eachother and you tremble occasionally. you put all your brainpower into the nonmoving blades to distract yourself from anton’s hands on your thighs that spread you further apart. you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. when his breath fans your center you shiver, still dealing with the after effects of your orgasm. when anton comes so close that his nose pokes your fold you pinch the covers on his bed between your two fingers.
“what should i do?” anton asks.
even if you are not looking at anton, you can tell he’s not all the way there with you. you can feel his eyes boring into your heat, you can almost hear him bringing in your smell. you have to clear your own thoughts to focus getting words out from your dry throat.
“you have to tease first.” you swallow on nothing. “to like build the tension, ya know?”
you don’t know when you’ll drop the act of trying to remain nonchalant. hiding your moans requires self control you don’t have anymore. when anton presses a kiss to your thigh you let him hear the sighs you tried so hard to suppress. anton smiles against your skin when he kisses the other side.
“how should i eat you out?” anton asks.
you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at anton. he’s curious, eyes filled with you as he presses a kiss closer to your cunt. you bring your your legs to rest on his shoulders.
“pretending like you’re making out with me.” you whimper.
anton’s eyes widen at your desperate voice. you can’t bring yourself to care anymore, you can’t hold back when anton keeps eye contact with you as his tongue gets closer and closer to your heat. he looks down at your pussy like it’s his next meal, latching his lips to your clit and sucking.
instantly your back is pressed into the mattress again, squirming as you try to stop yourself from thrusting into anton’s mouth. he’s a step ahead, putting hands underneath your ass to prop your lower half up. he goes into his own groove, letting his tongue occasionally poke past your hole to taste you. when anton compares your noises, he finds himself driven to continue sucking on your clit. he knows he made the right decision when he hears your moan rip through his room for the first time. he looks up to your with satisfaction, when he starts using his fingers to fuck you again your hand grips his hair tightly.
“are you sure you’re a virgin?” you ask genuinely.
when anton’s laugh vibrates against you, you dig your back into the mattress. you pathetically lift your suspended hips into anton’s mouth. you feel euphoria building over you again, and you push antons face back from your pussy with a hand to his forehead.
anton looks at you like a man starved before licking his lips.
“is everything okay?” anton asks.
you nod, a hand going to your face as you wipe sweat away. you close your eyes to save yourself from the stimulation, remaining quiet until your foggy mind can form full sentences again. you sit up fully on the bed and anton’s meets you, bringing you in to kiss him again. you can taste yourself on his lips, and you can feel his wet fingers touch your face. when you pull away you still keep your lips against his.
“do you want to wait until next week—” you look at anton unsure, feeling his hot cheeks underneath the pads of your fingers. you don’t want to assume his feelings for you, or take something he might’ve been saving for someone that isn’t his bestfriend. “do you want to wait until next week to go all the way?” you ask
anton shakes his head, both of his hands going to the side of your head to force eye contact. you look him in the eyes before he brings you in for another big kiss.
“i think i found the confidence to tell you how i feel now.” anton says.
“i’ve wanted you for so long.” you say.
anton nods his head, telling you he’s felt the same way.
“we are a mess.” anton says laughing.
you laugh with him again, your head going to anton’s shoulder as you recall all the moments you both chose to ignore. the fleeting looks, the accidental touches, the almost kisses. it’s almost embarrassing that it took you guys this long to come to terms and to confess, under these circumstances nonetheless. it would’ve been embarrassing if it wasn’t so funny.
anton pulls you from his shoulder and kisses your forehead again, and you grab his face to kiss his forehead back. anton smiles and pecks your lips.
“i’m ready.” anton says.
you nod your head, trying to sound as assertive as possible.
“the guy should always bring a condom.” you say it matter-of-factly, holding up a finger like it’s a fact.
anton laughs at you again, before reaching to his drawer. he pulls out an unopened box of condoms, mouth opening getting ready to ask anton a question.
“my dad.” when your eyes widen anton only shakes his head. “don’t ask. please don’t ask.” he says.
you nod your head, grabbing the box from anton to open it. you pull out the first one, tearing it from the foil like and the opening the package. anton watches you pull out the rubber, small in your hand. you look at anton, still clothed, clad in tight jeans that strain against his dick and a shirt that is too hot on him. as if on cue he stumbles over the edge of the bed, taking off his pants and shirt leaving him in his briefs.
when he gets on the bed in the same position, you still hold the condom in your hand. you look at anton twitching in his boxers. you resist the urge to pounce on him when you see the wet patch in his underwear.
“can i see it?” you don’t hide the desperate lift in your voice. anton is nervous, hands pressed flat to his thighs in efforts to wipe off the sweat. “please?” you beg.
anton nods, leaning back on the bed the same way you did when he took your underwear off. you lean forward on the bed, handing the condom to anton and you gently pull his waistband down his legs. you imagine anton wanted to be treated the same way he treated you, slow and gentle like you’re made of glass. by the time his underwear is off his face is red in splotches, the tips of his ears hot to the touch. you would’ve seen anton’s face get more red by the second if you weren’t staring at his dick, it was thick, shooting straight up without the confinements of his briefs. his tip was pink and soft like his lips, and beading endless with precum. the translucent pearls made his dick look like porcelain. you smile at anton before sticking touching his leaking tip gently.
“so pretty.” you coo.
anton shakes his head, his large hand clasping around your wrist when you tried pumping his dick. his sensitivity went without saying, and you didn’t want to waste it either. you tapped on anton’s wrist to make him open his eyes, pointing to the condom in his clenched hand when he looked at you.
“sorry.” anton said.
“don’t apologize.” you pinch the tip of the condom, sliding the band down until anton’s dick is covered completely. “you don’t have to apologize to me.”
anton hisses, bucking his hips up when you experimentally squeeze his length.
“and why is that?” anton asks.
“i’m your bestfriend.” you say casually.
when friend falls from your lips anton scoffs and shakes his head. he checks to see if the condom is on securely, touching his length to see what contact feels like.
“think we are a little more than that now.” anton says under his breath.
you coo at him, pinching his cheeks before letting your hands explore the rest of his body. when you reach anton’s shoulders you gently tug at him, bringing him to you. you let yourself lean back on anton’s bed again as you continue pulling him by his shoulders. when your back is against the sheets anton is hovering over you, and he’s so close that his hair touches your face. he moves a hand to plant into the mattress beside your head to hold himself upright. his other hand grips your hip, a hold so tight like anton thinks you’ll slip away. you’re the same, a white knuckle grip on his shoulders.
you look up at anton, and he swears he sees your eyes soften. they’re gentle and welcoming, like your pupils have become heart shaped. anton uses his hand planted into the mattress to move some hair from your face. you pucker your lips and make a kissing sound, signaling to anton to press his lips against yours. when he pulls back you take a hand from his shoulder and trail it down his body. you look at him with each inch you cover. when anton bites his lip you hesitate, worried that he might suddenly decide he’s not ready. but anton hangs his head low to look between your two bodies, how close your hand is to grabbing his dick again.
he whimpers and instantly goes to the crook of your neck, his sheets balling up in his clenched fists. you pump his dick a few times, wishing to yourself that a condom wasn’t separating the two of you. there will be plenty of time for that later you have to tell yourself. you focus instead on anton, how he hopelessly sucks on the skin of your neck as you jerk him off.
“i really won’t last long.” anton says.
his words are hushed and fan across your skin in warm huffs. you nod, moving your other hand to the back of anton’s head.
“it’s okay.” you continue jerking anton off until he lets out a shaky exhale. you stop pumping, pulling his head from the crook of your neck so you can look at him. “can you help me?” you ask sweetly.
instantly anton nods his head.
“what do you need me to do?” anton asks.
for a moment he thinks he might be crushing you underneath his body weight. before he can pull back your hand that moved to his shoulder blades keeps him in pace. you’re sheepish, the hand that was on anton’s dick goes to his hand that’s on your hip. you wrap your hands around his pinky finger, holding tight as you tug at his hand slightly.
“let’s put it in together.” you say.
anton swallows, both of your hands are slow going back to his dick. the anticipation has you both ready to leap out of your skin, and when you put your hands to anton both of you gasp. it’s a new feeling, your hand over anton’s as he guides his tip to your cunt. you already feel your hole fluttering around nothing, pulsing like a heartbeat. anton has to take his hand away when he gets too close, instead propping his elbow beside your head so he can hover above you.
his lips are already parted, and you see the glossy look in his eyes as you pump his length a few more times.
“are you ready?“ you ask.
you feel nearly out of breath yourself. when you move lower down on the bed anton’s tip prods your entrance, almost inside of you.
“i’m ready.” anton says.
you almost close your eyes when you feel anton push his hips against yours—the only thing that keeps them open is so your can look at anton above you. his eyes shut in euphoria as he pushes deeper into you. you don’t tell anton to stop while taking all of him, you revel in the stretch and the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part even more. a whimper slips past anton’s lips and he lets his head hand when he’s all the way in. he whimpers again when you seize around him, and a big hand squeezes on your waist.
“so big.” you whisper to anton.
he stays like that above you for awhile, falling victim to your warm wet fluttering walls and your sweet voice. his grip on your waist is rough but it the only thing keeping him grounded. anton twitches inside of you and he clenches the first next to your head. each attempt to move fails, it’s almost like you’re pulling him back in.
“can i move?” anton asks.
when he lifts his head back up, he sees you wide eyed nodding vigorously. you lift your own hips slightly, giving anton room to pull back to meet you again. he draws a shaky breath as he feels his dick dragging out of you. when he slides back in slowly anton’s head goes to the crook of your neck. your hand goes to anton’s back, pressing gently to bring him closer.
“what does it feel like?” you draw your hips back and forth, giving anton shallow thrusts.
“warm and wet.” anton’s voice shakes as he slowly starts thrusting into you. “like a really nice hug.” he says.
you hum at anton’s observation, desperate to know what it feels like to him. you want to tell anton how good he’s being, how he fits perfectly inside of you and makes you feel full. but this is about anton, you have plenty of time to tell him how he makes you feel later.
you wedge your hand between your bodies and press on your stomach, letting out a sigh when you feel your stomach tighten. anton keeps the slow deep thrusts, panting into the crook of your neck. when he snaps his hips a particular way, an unexpected choked whine slips past your lips. anton pulls away from your skin looking down at you.
anton’s blown out eyes look down at you. you can already see his face becoming red and splotchy as he takes you in. he looks at your lips, where a sound he’s never heard before came from and to your eyes that were wet just like his. the previous accidental thrust becomes purposeful, anton snaps his hips the same way he did before while looking at your face. the sound falls from you again, and you have to fight to keep your eyes open. anton does it again, and you can see his hair and the apples of his cheeks move from the force. the fourth time anton snaps his hips harder, and your back arches off the bed.
“so big.” you say into anton’s ear.
you press your hand deeper into your stomach, ad anton presses his forehead to yours to look down between your two bodies. he looks only for a second before his hooded eyes go back to yours.
his mouth opens as he looks down at you, words caught in his throat as he focuses on thrusting inside of you. but you already know what he’s going to ask. you press your hand deeper into your stomach while nodding your head.
“so deep.” you whine.
anton’s parted lips turn into a smile, a quick smirk that reveals his perfect teeth. you only see it for a second before anton goes back to feeling weak. anton switches his snapping hips to something more languid, trading the harsh slapping for the smooth and wet sound you two make together.
anton’s hair is wet with sweat as you fist it, pulling it away from his face so you can see all of him. you keep his head against yours, pressing gentle kisses to his plush lips.
“you feel so good inside of me, anton.” you tell him.
he can only nod quickly, drops of sweat falling onto you as he picks up the pace. your hand that pressed into your stomach moves to your clit. when you touch the bundle of nerves the moans fall from your lips, moving anton to do the same thing. his sounds are airy gasps, almost crying while yours become pouty.
the two of you no longer speak while you chase your instincts. anton’s languid thrusts turn to rutting hips, and all your reservations flies out the window as you bring your knee to your chest. anton’s hand on your hip helps you, applying force to the back of your thigh to press it closer. the new angle makes anton fuck you deeper and harder, you give up circling your clit to put both hands on anton for stability. he lifts his body from yours slightly, looking down at all of you. when you feel his eyes drift down from your face to your chest, you arch your back to come closer to his mouth. anton gives you a quick look of uncertainty and you soften your features to show him how desperate you feel, how close you are. you don’t get the chance to beg for something more when anton bends his body to attach his lips to your nipple.
you’re quick reacting to anton wet tongue that laves your senstive skin. you’re propping yourself up on one of your elbows in a second, forcing your hand to grip anton’s sheets to find stability. you arch your back and fist anton’s hair, the stimulation from his rutting hips and teeth grazing your sensitive skin makes you pull his hair at the root.
“i’m so close.” you whimper.
you look down at anton, how he is so content sucking on your chest. when he looks up at you with little hearts swimming around in his big brown eyes you let your head lean back.
it’s too fast, you can’t announce you’re cumming before it hits you in full force. your leg twitches as anton’s grip on your thigh tightens, pushing you further to open you up more. he hits deep, and your cries bounce off the walls in his room. you are nearly crying when anton stills inside of you—he didn’t get the chance to warn you either. one moment he had control the next he didn’t, emptying into the condom as your name falls from his parted lips in pants and high-pitched whines. anton has to screw his eyes shut from the relief that takes over his body, and when he finally comes down he slumps against your body completely.
you let anton crush you, loving the feeling of his sweaty body pressing into yours. you can still feel him twitching inside of you and you can still feel your walls flutter around him.
neither of you move until you hear the front door open and anton’s mom call you both down to help bring the groceries inside. the two of you were so caught up in your own world you forgot other people existed. you nearly kicked anton off of you, pushing him backwards so you could put your clothes back on. anton’s door was left open, and you could hear his brother making his way up the stairs. the two of you rushed trying to become decent. you threw on anton’s shirt and almost put your jeans on backwards. anton ended up grabbing a completely new outfit, tripping over his feet as he put his shorts on.
the steps were getting closer to anton’s room when you guys started to desperately smooth out eachother’s features, trying to lay anton’s hair down straight while anton time making his shirt on you not look like his shirt.
his brother did a once over of you and anton, standing in the middle of his room looking frazzled. he decided he didn’t care, walking out of sight as he went into his room.
“mom said to come downstairs.” he said over his shoulder.
“okay.” when anton’s voice sounded too hoarse he cleared his throat. “be down there in a second.” anton said.
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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u
Part: 8
Click here to read the first part.
Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture
Word Count: 4674
A/N: English is not my first language.
* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.
You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.
He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”
Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.
You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.
You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”
“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.
“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”
Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”
Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”
“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”
“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”
“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”
You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.
Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”
“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”
Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.
“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”
“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.
He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.
Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”
Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.
Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.
Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.
“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”
Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.
None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.
Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”
That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.
Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”
You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.
“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”
He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”
“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”
“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”
“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”
Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”
You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”
Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.
You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.
“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”
Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”
“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”
“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”
Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.
You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.
You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.
You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.
“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”
You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”
“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.
You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.
“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”
Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”
Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.
Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”
“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”
You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.
“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.
You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”
“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”
“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”
“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."
He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.
“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.
“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”
“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”
You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.
It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.
You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.
“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.
Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.
Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.
“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.
“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”
“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”
“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.
“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.
“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”
You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.
Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”
Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”
The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”
Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”
Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”
You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”
Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”
She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”
“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.
Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.
With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”
Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.
Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.
“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”
“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”
“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal.
Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.
Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”
“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.
Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”
“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.
When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.
“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”
Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.
“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”
Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.
Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.
Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.
Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.
“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”
“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”
You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”
He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.
“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”
Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”
You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.
Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”
Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”
Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.
“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.
With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”
But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.
He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”
Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.
You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.
Next Chapter
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A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-
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The Favor 11
Dear lord… this took a million years to write and I’m sorry for that 😭 I’ve never written something of this nature before and I wanted to get it right. I hope you enjoy because this is a shift in the whole thing!
The Favor masterlist
Check out our Patreon for early access to part 12 and 200+ exclusive writings
WC- 6.5k
Warnings- cuckolding, Danny (ew), bd/sm elements, dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, creampie, slight angst, fluff, obvious smut, soft dom!h, kinda asshole h (to Danny hehe)
Y/N wasn’t sure what she had thought this sort of scenario would look like, but she was putting her trust in Harry. In this case, it was her trusting him to set this up at a hotel instead of his place, saying that neutral ground would be better in case Danny had an unsavory reaction.
It was a classy joint, that much was obvious. He’d painted it as a weekend staycation for the both of them, which she liked more than she cared to admit- but there were mixed reaction she had in the idea of Danny being there at all. It was like an intrusion in a way, having him look in to their private little world… but on the other hand, she wanted to show him how far gone she was for him. How Harry could provide for her things that she needed and he could never provide.
“Y’alright, pet?” He stroked over her hair as he knelt down in front of her. His shirt had been discarded to the side not too long ago, setting up the bed for their activity. The dominant had ran through what would be happening tonight with her a number of times to make sure she felt safe and comfortable, but there was nothing like the anticipation of her boyfriend she was actively planning on dumping coming up to watch the man she was utterly infatuated with give her the type of sex that had made her dream come true.
“Yeah. A little nervous.” The admission was quiet, her eyes reaching his own. It was instant comfort. Another reason why she knew it was the right thing to break up with Danny. As cruel as it may sound, she’d be doing him a favor. Never in her life had she had just a simple look calming her down. Perhaps it was the trust, maybe it was the familiar, but there was no doubt in her mind that Harry was going to take care of her.
“That’s alright, and very normal.” He reassured. “But it’s not too late to cancel. It’s never too late to stop. The moment you color, we can stop and we can send him out. Okay?” The tenderness he treated her with had never failed to make her fall further down the cracks, right into the palm of his hand.
“I know. I trust you.” Reaching out, her hands cupped his face and impulsively brought him forward.
It was something that had started to become normal. The kissing like lovers, kissing for comfort and passion, and it far exceeded what a strictly Dominant and Submissive relationship would be, but they both knew it was much more than that. He was going to be hers Officially soon enough, and selfishly he was giving in. Indulging, smug that finally she had decided to drop the man- and better yet, prove to him that it was only the natural choice.
Humming into the kiss, he stood up and guided her to follow, securing his hand over her throat and giving it a gentle squeeze as he pulled back. Wet lips and a soft pant, he thumbed over her lip and wiped away a bit of the slickness his tongue had left. “I trust you, too. And m’happy that you’re….” He paused for a second. “I’m happy that you are leaving a relationship that isn’t good for you.”
It was a moment she could have ignored, simply nodding her head, but she could see that subconsciously he was searching for validation in his own way- so she gave it to him. “I’m leaving him because someone else is making me happier than I ever thought I could be. So I’m very happy, too.”
The loaded statement had him staring at her for a few seconds before his mouth fell back on hers, a bruising kiss making her whimper into the air. He was happy with that, more than that, but he had no time to properly respond when there was that dreaded knock on the door.
Fucking prick, always ruining everything. As evil as it was, he was going to take full pleasure in fucking Y/N in front of him and making him see how he had failed to provide even the simplest pleasures to her. He wasn’t going to mourn their friendship like he thought he would. Not when he got the better option in it.
“Go lay on the bed, baby.” He gave one last kiss, a small squeeze to her throat before he loosened up. “I’m gonna let him in and remind him of the rules.”
They had decided that she was going to keep her lingerie on. Harry wasn’t keen on him getting a full show, full access to what now belonged to him- and Y/N not so excited to have him see every part of her at once. He’d be able to see Harry’s cock in her, but her breasts would be hidden away. That was solely for H.
She did as he asked, getting into the agreed position. Face down, ass up. Hands at her side, face turned away from the chair Danny would sit in. The silk eye mask slipped over her eyes, she did her best to be a good girl and laid on her position as she heard the murmuring.
The pre established rules had been simple
No touching
No talking to Y/N
Phone off, Harry would place it inside a drawer.
Leave when he said to leave.
This was something that she hadn’t expected to happen when the arrangement had first started, but then again- she hadn’t expected to fall in love with Harry either.
Silly, foolish girl. As if she ever had a chance at resisting.
It was nearly impossible to not fall for him. Between his attentiveness, his thoughtful gestures, his sweet demeanor, his humor, his patience, his ability to take care of her and the way he fucked her? It was inevitable. There was no way she could have ever resisted that.
The water bottle he’d gotten her sat on the side table of the bed, filled up with cool water for when she needed it, for fucks sake. Danny had barely ever gotten her gifts, let alone just because he was thinking of her. Not that she needed to be showered in material things, but the fact that Harry had come up with the ideas on his own and thought of her enough to grab something just for her had been enough of an indication that it was something she liked and wanted far more of.
Her decision to break up with him wasn’t one she had come to lightly, but seeing how she was treated by Harry had proven she deserved better. Even if… Harry decided he wasn’t into her anymore down the line, he set the new precedent that she could and should be treated with more respect. She could have the things she wanted and it wasn’t necessarily odd of her to ask for them. The right person would be happy to fulfill those wants, and more.
Her body was cold, but her insides were hot. Hearing the shuffling, the door closing, being unable to see but having the knowledge that he was sitting on that chair about to watch Harry, the man he’d essentially pawned her off to on loan, give her the things he couldn’t dream of doing. There had been mixed feelings at first, unsure if it was the right thing to do, but considering he had asked and consented, Harry had calmed her about it.
He was kind enough not to mention how wet it had made her when she had spread her legs after that conversation and he got a glimpse of the wet patch on her cotton panties.
Her mind was going a million miles a minute, not stopping once as the thoughts continued racing around her brain- until she felt his hand on her. Smooth, large fingers running over her back, all the way up until he gently wrapped them up in her hair and pulled her face up, giving her cheeks a squeeze with the opposite hand. “You know your safe words, my sweet. At any time, for any reason, if you want to stop…. What are you gonna say?”
“Red, sir.” She peeped, leaning into his touch. It was her body’s natural inclination now. The moment Harry started talking in that specific tone, that tilt to his voice, her body knew exactly how to react. Melt, give in, please him. It’s all she wanted.
“That’s my good girl.” Another squeeze to her cheeks had her lips pouting out before he gently laid her head back down on the sheet. “You just keep bein’ good for me and I’ll take care of everything. Just like normal, hm?” He ran his hand back down her body, using one finger over her asscheek.
“Yes, sir.” She nodded, rubbing her face against the soft fabric. “Take good care of me always.”
Harry grinned, moving back towards the end of the bed. “Good. Be as loud as you’d like tonight, my pet.” His eyes were soft when he looked down at her, body splayed out on the blankets but not completely bare. There were some things Danny was never going to get to see again- and god, did that make him happy. Moving towards the side, he undid his belt lazily. Letting it draw out not only to build anticipation, but to leave her guessing.
Danny had never seen anything like this before and in all honesty, they’d agreed to keep it relatively vanilla for that reason… and another. He didn’t deserve to see the flogging, the paddle, the ropes, not at all.. Y/N wouldn’t feel fully safe with him in the room with Danny watching either, so she had eagerly agreed to keep it downplayed, insisting that their sex had been missionary and bland to begin with so even the shit they’d done without the bells and whistles would be enough to shock him. Even though that made him jealous, it only added motivation to prove that Harry could give it to her a hundred times better even without the toys and tools. He could make her cum harder than Danny could have ever dreamt of with just his fingers, just a few flicks of them, because they had a connection that no one had been expecting.
Perhaps his inkling of a god complex was showing, but he was more than happy to show off just how much better he was.
“Legs together.” He ordered, watching with a little smile as she immediately placed them together. “Don’t want to deal with you squirming too much today. Know you love to when it gets to feel too good, but I think keeping you restrained would be better.” Diligently, he wrapped the leather through her ankles and began to wrap them up. Firm, he tightened it so she had no chance of wriggling them out, he hummed at his handiwork.
“Is that safe?” For the first time, Danny spoke. Harry’s head snapped towards him, a reproachful look shot his way.
“Yes, it’s safe. Everything we do is safe. I’d never put her in danger… Not too much.” His hand ran over her thighs. “Now shut up. You want to watch? Fine. But we’re going to pretend you aren’t there.” His voice was gruff as he placed his attention back to Y/N. There was nothing else said as he used his binding as a grip, pulling her down so her feet nearly touched the ground, her upper body on the plushy bed.
“Yeah.. This is a nice position, isn’t it?” He murmured, focusing solely on her now. “You look so gorgeous like this, pet.” His fingers gently slipped over her cunt, cupping it lightly as he got that gasp he was looking for. He bit back a groan as he felt how wet she was for him, how she had ruined the pretty lace. Giving it a squeeze, he clicked his tongue down at her. “Exactly what I expected. S’not a day that goes by that this cunt isn’t desperate for my cock, hm?”
Y/N held back the urge to grind into his hand, her breathing picking up as he began to touch her. She felt hyperaware of everything going on around her- and a little fucking pissed that Danny had opened his mouth.
How dare he ask as if he actually gave a fuck? He had essentially made her someone else's problem, not at all looked into the sort of shit BDSM could entail. Thankfully Harry was an absolute godsend, but what if he hadn’t been? Would he have just given her up to any other of his friends? Just because someone did kinky shit didn’t mean they were good enough or safe enough to give our girlfriend over to. It was infuriating.
“Yes, sir. I always want it.” She answered without hesitation. It was the truth. Over her time with Harry, he’d fine tuned her into being addicted to him in every possible way- and now she was pretty sure he felt the same way about her.
“That’s good. Considering how much you whine for it, I’m not shocked.” Thumbing over her clit, he felt increasingly smug. “You need to get that wet for me anyway. Poor little hole has a bit of trouble fitting me in, doesn’t it?”
“Mhm. I love it.” She breathed, only to squeal a few seconds later as his hand came down on her ass. The burn sent tingles down her body, cunt throbbing against his hand as she opened up her mouth again. “Sir! I love it, sir. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure y’are, pet. You usually are so good for me, jus’ a little overwhelmed. I know how my girl is.” He crooned, leaning himself forwards and pressing his cock against her ass. “Kept you worked up all day. I know it’s a lot for you, ‘specially when your pretty head gets a bit empty when you’re waiting for my cock…. But you have been so good for me.”
Harry found himself slipping into his own headspace. They’d both agreed to keep it relatively short with the other man in the room and he had been more than happy with that agreement, but he liked that he was getting a look at how she came undone for him. That he got to hear the little gasp she let out as he slipped a finger inside of her cunt, and then two, fucking them into her slippery hole.
“There it is. Barely touched you and you’re dripping like a whore.” His coo was contradictory to his harsh word, tone soft with a slight chuckle at the end because of course she was. Y/N got worked up so easily, the tiniest things making her wet for him and that was one of his favorite things about her. Her eagerness that could borderline desperation. The submissive could try if she wanted, to pretend that she wasn’t a whore for him- but it would be a lie. “Do you like being a slut for me, pet? Barely touched you and you’re dripping down my knuckles.”
Y/N’s head spun at his word, nodding into the fabric under her face. Maybe she’d be embarrassed if she hadn’t come to terms with the fact that Harry had some sort of magic touch to him, but between the both of them it was no secret. She’d get on her knees or bend herself over the moment he even suggested it because she was greedy and they both knew it. “Uh-huh.” She nodded. “I love being your whore, sir.”
To his credit, his fingers knew exactly where to curl, where to stroke, how hard and fast to move. Harry had been becoming an expert in all things Y/N, but especially when it came to how her body reacted to him. The feeling of her bound ankles keeping her from squirming too much and the practiced ease of his fingers curled right into a spot he knew would make her weak already had her feeling pathetically close. “Sir- I’m gonna cum- can I-“
A sharp spank was given to her ass again, his free hand squeezing the stinging flesh as she bit back a moan. “We’ve been over this, pet.”
“S-Sorry, may I? I’m gonna if you keep-“
“Cum.” Harry didn’t make her finish her sentence as he continued his motions, watching his fingers sinking into her and her legs tremble just a bit. He had known exactly how to get her there, betting on it actually, as he felt the fluttering around his digits as she breathed heavier and did her best to writhe despite her constraints. It was one of the most beautiful things, he thinks, watching her lose herself to pleasure that he personally gave her.
He just didn’t stop there. He could feel her pulsate around his fingers as he fucked them into her harder, placing one hand on her lower back as he continued thrusting them inside her weeping cunt. Overstimulation was a favorite of his, always, but he liked even more so making her cum when he knew it was getting her to relax. To get to that headspace easier. Part of him wished he could see her eyes, watch them get teary for him as she began to babble slightly, but he didn’t want anything taking her out of this moment.
Out of the corner of his eye he was reminded that they had someone watching but he didn’t pay him any mind, focusing solely on the woman in front of him that took up the majority of his mind even when she wasn’t here.
“H-ha…” She went to say his name but caught herself, letting out a muffled moan as she buried her face in the comforter of the bed again. The leather of the belt bit into her skin but in the best way, the burn of her legs trying to push apart to both trap his hand and push it away adding to the pleasure swirling in her tummy. It was borderline too much, his palm slapping against her and the constant stimulation to her spot, but she knew that Harry knew best.
“Hm? What was that you’re tryin’ to say, pet?” He hummed, gently letting his nails run over the expanse of the lingerie. It tickled, making her squirm a bit but she had no complaints except a hybrid of a giggled moan. “Are you feeling good?”
“S’good, it’s so good.” Her head nodded quickly. “I’m just- you’ll make me cum again, sir. A-and I haven’t even made you cum and I don’t wanna be greedy, I want to make you happy and-“ her words were cut off with his fingers back in her hair, pulling her up a bit so he could make her back arch.
“I’m doing what I want. This makes me happy. Like seeing you dripping on my fingers, squirming around the bed because you can’t help it. I’ll cum when I feel like it. I want you to do it again on my hand and then we’ll worry about me, yeah?”
The pinpricks of the grip on her hair had her mouth hanging open, and if the eye mask was uncovered he’d see her eyes rolled back into her head. It was a heavenly combination in her opinion. The only thing that would make it better would be to replace his fingers with his cock but she wasn’t about to make any demands.
“Now cum for me again. Want that cunt nice and soft for me when I slip into it.”
Y/N knew that Harry had an ungodly level of control over her body just by command alone, but it took the both of them off guard by how quickly her orgasm came. Wet gasps into the air as his honorific left her lips, slick arousal dripping off his knuckles and over his palm as he worked her throat the second orgasm well enough before giving her another surprise.
The dominant didn’t give her a chance to recover as his cock was pushed into her, a garbled moan leaving her throat as she felt it fill her up. Her nails dug into her palms as she felt the grip on her hair tighten, pulling her further up as he dug in deep. It was in her stomach, her toes curling as she panted into the air. “Oh-“
Harry repeated it. “Shush.” He muttered, slipping his fingers into her gaping mouth. “Suck these clean. You want me to feel good? Take my cock and shut up, sweetheart.”
“Don’t talk to her like that.”
Danny. Y/N had forgotten about him until she heard his voice, her body tensing slightly- but Harry didn’t stop. Pushing his fingers back in her throat he made her gag, knowing that she’d need the distraction to keep sucking again.
“If you can’t keep your mouth shut, you’ll get the fuck out.” Harry’s voice was unlike how it usually was, even being mean to her. It was cold. If it was ever directed at her like that she’d cry- but she couldn’t deny that a part of her liked him being mean to Danny. Especially because it was mostly on her behalf. “She likes this shit. Clearly, you’ve no fucking clue what gets her off… S’why you sent her to me, isn’t it? Couldn’t get her off in the way she wanted so you sent her to someone who could.” He scoffed, pulling his saliva soaked fingers from her mouth. “You like when I tell you you to shut up and take it, mm baby?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded without a second guess. “I l-love it so much. I love how you fuck me.” The second part wasn’t necessary, but she wanted to say it. As if it wasn’t visible and audible by how wet she was around his dick, how she moaned. Then again, Danny really didn’t have a clue about how to make Y/N feel good anyway.
“See?” Harry grinned maliciously, finally glancing over to the man. His face was flushed and he looked slightly bothered, but he wasn’t making any effort to move. “I’ve taken the time t’learn what she likes, I’ve listened to what she wants- shown her the shit you’re too scared to even try. So if I want to tell her to shut up n’take it so she soaks my cock a bit more? M’gonna fucking do it.” His thrusts were deeper, making Y/N let out little noises as he got into her tummy. “If you want to keep watching, don’t talk. I won’t warn you again. I’ll simply kick you out and make her finish on my own.”
Maybe she should feel bad about how aroused this was getting her. The show of dominance and how overwhelmingly clear it was that Harry was in charge, that he’d always been in charge and that he was so blatant about the fact that he was the one making her feel good. It would make her felt guilty later, she’s sure, that her cunt got more slick and she clenched around him as he essentially told him to shut the fuck up and let him get to business or get out, that their pleasure wasn’t indicative on if he was there or not.
But right now, it had her melting, malleable, easy for him to do as he pleased.
Subconsciously she could probably surmise that it was because a man was finally showing initiative. He was claiming her, in a way, with little care for anyone but her opinion. He had made sure she was okay with this but leaned into it with the somewhat unspoken knowledge that this was going to further prove that they were the better match. Harry showed that cared about her when he smacked her ass and pulled her hair and called her a filthy bitch when he came inside of her, because he knew that’s exactly what she wanted.
“More.” Her voice broke through the weighted lack of words, only the sounds of sex. “More, sir- I want more.”
“Okay, pet.” He grinned- she didn’t have to look at him to hear it in his voice. “Been going too soft on you, I know.”
The dominant knew what she wanted. So he gave it to her.
The last threads of caring about the man she called a boyfriend in name only fell away as Harry fucked her. Deep, heavy thrusts as he pulled her up and wrapped his arm around her chest, letting his mouth pant against her ear as his cock filled her over and over again.
“You like it.” He murmured, just for her. “You like that he knows that he can’t give this t’you. My dirty girl.” He pressed a kiss right under her ear, chuckling as she immediately gave him room. The proof was in how she held him tight, dripping and weeping all over his cock as he manhandled her. She had no control in this, not in appearance anyway, and it’s what she wanted.
“I want…” her voice was hoarse as she tried to turn her head so Danny couldn’t hear. “Wanna have you cum in me with him watching. It’s your pussy.” The words fell out as her guard lowered, interrupted at the end by his mouth. Part of her wished to be naked right now so she didn’t have the layer between them, but Danny had lost the privilege of seeing her fully nude. That was something she only wanted Harry to see.
“That last part.” He grunted. “Say it louder.”
“It’s yours.” Even with a slightly straightened voice, she tried her hardest. His other hand collared her throat, keeping it tightly wound with slight pressure. That promise had been something that set him off, and she liked that bit of power she felt with making him lose it slightly.
“I can’t quite understand, Pet.” He spoke louder, giving the ability for it to be heard now. “What’s mine? Need you to elaborate on that for me.”
“My cunt.” She gasped, feeling his teeth graze her jaw. “My cunt- it’s yours. You- you fuck me so good and I want it all the t-time. I need it.”
“Yeah, baby? You need me?” He’d let the softer pet name slip, as well as the fondness he’d been trying to keep from his tone- but if the man sitting in the chair had any sense at all, he’d be able to see that he’d lost the girl. That she was Harry’s, and it was his own fault.
He’d sent her straight into Harry’s arms. Straight into his bed. He’d stupidly assumed that Y/N didn’t actually know what she wanted, that she’d be scared off- but now, she knew even more so. She begged for it, was greedy for it. She was hiccuping slightly as he slowly pushed her down, pushing her face into the blankets as he adjusted just so- making her let out a soft sob. He’s found the spot he had been avoiding, her legs quivering under them.
“Yeah, I need it. I need it, I need it so much, I need you-“ she let out a shuddering breath. “Please, Sir. You’re gonna make me cum again and I need to- I need you to cum too. Wanna be good.” It was her favorite line.
Little did she know, Y/N was always good. Harry had been a little spooked at first at just how good she actually was, how much he had wanted her. He had been a goner since day one, as soon as he got permission to look at her as more than a friend’s lover and potentially one of his own- he should have known he’d never be able to give her back.
“You are, pet. You are. Such a good fucking good with a perfect cunt. Dunno how anyone could ever let you out of their sight.” A slight dig at Danny, but he wanted him to watch and understand. “Where do you want me to cum, hm? Your precious cunt’s got me close.” He slipped the hair away from her mouth, adjusting the mask over her eyes. “Want it on your ass? On that cute little tummy?”
He was taunting her, making her ask for it out loud.
“No- no, sir. Please, y’know where I want it. Want it inside me.” She was whining, his sweet girl, pushing her ass up the best she could with the position she was in. “Please, please, please, just let me cum n’I can take all of yours, I’ll do a good job. I’ll clean you up, I-“
“Oh, darling. Love when you ramble like that, know there isn’t much going on in your head when you get drunk on cock like this- but I’ll give it to you. You’ve been so good.” The praise seemed to have her melting into the bed. “Go on, baby. Tell me who you belong to when you cum on my cock.”
Harry knew it would be a lot, but he didn’t realize how satisfying it would truly be to hear her whine out loudly, her body trembling under him as she soaked him. Slightly gushing on his cock, his brows furrowed as he watched the mess she made on him. Even he had underestimated how good this would be. “Yours- m’yours, it’s yours, H-sir, I can’t…” her tongue tied, her body writhing slightly under his as her pussy massaged her his cock.
It wasn’t like he stood a chance. Coughing out a loud groan, he hovered over her, burying his face in her hair as he let his hips stutter and cum shoot into her. It felt like a lot- it probably was, considering how heavy his balls had felt- but he felt a piece of his settle. The scent of her shampoo he’d gotten her, her softness underneath him, the velvety walls of her cunt milking every drop from him, it was almost there. The claiming in front of him has felt like one of the final pieces, a nail in a coffin, lips pressed against her temple as he whispered praises to her.
The only thing that caught his attention was the sound of ruffling that had his head turning. Danny stood looking a mixture of angry and…
Something else. Unsure what to do. Harry sighed, not wanting to leave the warm confines of her pussy.
“Your phone is in the drawer in the entrance. You can leave.” He said simply, deciding that was enough. There wasn’t much else that could be said- could there?
He couldn’t apologize. There was nothing he was sorry for. Being the better man and giving the girl the proper treatment wasn’t something he’d feel bad for. He’d asked to watch himself, and maybe it hadn’t been all the paddles and whips and chains but it had been kinky in terms of someone watching- so he got a hint of it. A real clue about how good Y/N felt with him.
His whole body relaxed once he heard the drawer open and the door close, finally ridding them of the man neither of them really wanted much to do with in the first place.
“He’s gone, baby.” Harry spoke softly to her, ever so lightly lifting the mask from her eyes. He could see her wince at the light, though not much of it, the cute little nose wrinkling making his cock twitch inside of her. Even the cute things she did made him feel borderline insane. “There she is.” He cooed, leaning further up to kiss under her eye and over her brow.
“Hi.” She said quietly, blinking up at him a few times before letting her cheek melt into the bed. They were alone now, truly alone, and she could let her guard down. As much as Harry made her feel as safe as she could in that scene, it was exactly why she had wanted to feel in relatively vanilla. Add in the idea of anything experimental or really kinky and she wouldn’t have had good connotations.
“How are you feeling?” It felt like a dumb question to ask but he couldn’t help but ask it. It was something he needed to know.
“I’m okay, weirdly.” She admitted. “I thought I’d feel more emotional. I don’t, though.” There was peace underneath it all. Yes, she’d deliberate later about how she would actually have the conversation with him about breaking up with him- but she wanted to enjoy her weekend with Harry first. “I think… I’ve known it’s been over for a bit and it felt nice to…” it was hard to say it out loud but not because she regretted it, but more so because it was difficult to put into words. “I think that I felt nice knowing he was getting to see that you care about me and you give me something he never has. Part of me felt guilty at first but not so much anymore. I forgot he was here most of the time.” Harry was her focus.
“Okay.” He nodded, seeing that maybe it was something that she needed to think about some more on her own. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind she was going to go through with it, but he knew it had to be difficult to break up with someone. She was over him and that was clear, but the anxieties that surrounded all of that would rise to the surface soon and he didn’t want to make it worse. “We can talk about it some more later.” The last thing he wanted was to pull out of her but he needed to undo her restraint and make sure she was cleaned up and comfortable. “But for now, why don’t you let me clean you up, hm? I’ll order something for us on the room service menu, you won’t have to think about a thing.”
—-
One of the best parts about being with Harry was letting go. It wasn’t just physically, though that was nice- but emotionally, mentally. She felt the restraints slipping, allowing him to make decisions she usually would make herself. It wasn’t that he thought her as incapable, no. Not at all. But he wanted to make it easier for her. It started with him picking out food for her in the room service menu, and then her sleep set. The next morning, he’d asked her if she wanted him to do the same and she had shyly agreed.
He picked out her outfit from the bag they’d packed for their little staycation- a lilac dress with a little cardigan to go overtop, her comfy pink cotton panties (which had surprised her considering there were sexier options) and her slightly beat up black converse. It was interesting to see what he had chosen to put on her, but she felt extra giddy as he let his eyes roam over her, humming in approval when she finished getting ready.
“Love this.” He pinched the cardigan. “I like you in those. You look soft. You are soft- but S’like a reminder.” And fuck if she didn’t fall to her knees right then and there. “Can you put your hair up for me, please? S’a little windy today and I know it bothers you when it gets in your face. Or do you need help with it?”
Y/N realistically didn’t need any help. Thousands of times she had tossed her hair up, but when it came to the specific ask… she wanted to have him do it. It took a few tries, but he got it eventually, focused on making sure there was no fall out except a few pieces that framed her face. “Beautiful.”
It had haunted her all day, really. Flirting at the back of her mind, but knowing it wasn’t exactly the time to ask it. Was this something they could do all the time? Was that something that he’d want?
It came naturally to him. That much was very glaringly obvious. Harry was easy to slip into the dominant role both in and out of the bedroom and she wondered if he was fully aware how he was doing it as they walked around. They were only 30 minutes outside their town, but it felt like another universe as he held her hand firmly, making sure he walked on the side of the street near traffic, opened doors, ordered for her during lunch again, picked out some clothes she had trouble deciding on when they went into the shops. It felt right.
She didn’t want to go home.
As much as she missed his house and his dog, she wanted to live in this little world.
“You’re quiet today.” He noticed. Of course he did. Y/N doubted there was much the man missed. When you first met him you wouldn’t expect the sharp eye for detail but she caught on fairly quickly how attentive he was to even the slightest shift in her demeanor or her face- or even her texts.
“I’m sorry.” She apologized, sitting back on the hotel bed. They’d decided to spend their last night here before returning to Harry’s tomorrow. “I just don’t want this weekend to end.”
Harry’s shoulders dropped in what seemed to be relief as he took a seat next to her, gingerly pulling her legs on his lap. “I don’t either. But we’ve got next weekend. Or… well.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Depending on when you have your discussion with Danny, I don’t think we’ll need to stick to just a weekend schedule. If that’s something you’d like, of course.”
Seeing him blush wasn’t super common, but it was fucking adorable. She wanted to coo but instead smiled, placing her hand over his as some of the nerves at the idea of him wanting to end all of this because her breakup with Danny would mean the deal was over slipping off her back. “Yeah? You don’t think you’d get sick of me?”
The man scoffed. If only she knew just how clingy he had started to feel. How he had to talk himself out to texting her far more than he did, how he had tried his best to make sure he didn’t come on too strong when she was still figuring things out with her last relationship- but if she was willing to spend more time with him, he would take up every single crumb, every second, every tiny sliver her could. “I don’t think you really get how…” he sighed, readjusting the words. “I don’t think that you comprehend how much I’d love to have you around more often. I don’t think it’s possible for me to get sick of you.”
That brought a smile to her face. “I don’t know. I do sing a bit obnoxiously. And I keep forgetting to put the cap on the toothpaste…”
“As long as it’s a good song, I don’t mind. As for the toothpaste… we can work on it.” He raised an eyebrow. “I know plenty of ways to get you to remember. Don’t worry about that.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#the favor#harry fanfic#harry styles fanfics#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfictions#harry styles one shots#harry styles au
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Incorrect Tmnt quotes
Mikey: What does 'take out' mean? Donnie: Food. Leo: Dating Raph: Murder Y/n: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.
Donnie: Favourite horror movie?
Mikey: It
Raph: Saw
Leo: Annabelle
Y/n: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics
Leo: Croissants: dropped
Raph: Road: works ahead
Y/n: BBQ sauce: on my titties
April: Shavacado: fre
Mikey: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead
Donnie:
Donnie: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.
Y/n: Change is inedible.
Donnie: Don't you mean inevitable?
Y/n, spitting out coins: No, I did not.
Mikey: Hey Donnie,
Donnie: Yes?
Mikey: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?
Donnie:
Donnie: Where’s Y/n?
Donnie: April isn’t answering their phone
Y/n: I’ll call
Donnie: Casey and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-
April: Hello?
Y/n: Top 30 reasons why y/n is sorry... Number 5 will surprise you!
Raph: Top 30 anime deaths. Number One: YOUR FUCKING ASS RIGHT NOW!!!
Mikey: I'm incredibly fast at maths.
Y/n: Alright, what's 30x17?
Mikey: 47
Y/n: That's not even close.
Mikey: But it was fast.
Donnie: Would you guys be there for me if I was going through something?
Raph: Nope, absolutely not.
Leo: I hope it sucks, whatever you're going through.
Mikey: I hope it emotionally scars you for the rest of your life.
Casey: I hope you reach out to me so I can ignore you.
Y/n: I can't wait to go to your funeral, knowing I could've changed that outcome.
*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker*
Splinter: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.
Everyone:
Leo: ...I did. I broke it.
Splinter: No. No you didn't. Mikey?
Mikey: Don't look at me. Look at Y/n.
Y/n: What?! I didn't break it.
Mikey: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?
Y/n: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.
Mikey: Suspicious.
Y/n: No, it's not!
Raph: If it matters, probably not, but April was the last one to use it.
April: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!
Raph: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?
April: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Raph!
Leo: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, person A.
Splinter: No! Who broke it!?
Everyone:
Raph: Splinter... Donnie’s been awfully quiet.
Donnie: rEALLY?!
*Everyone starts arguing*
Splinter, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it.
Splinter: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick.
Splinter:
Splinter: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.
'Can I copy the homework?'
Donnie: I can help you with it!
April: Yeah, sure.
Y/n: Bold of you to assume I did the homework.
Raph: lol nope.
Mikey: Wait, we had homework?!?!?!
Leo: *Read 5:55pm*
Leo: bitches b like “im baby” but have childhood trauma and neglect like wtf do u know about being baby u were forced to grow up from an early age anyways I’m bitches
Leo, driving y/n and April: So how was your day?
Y/n: We almost got surprise adopted!
Leo: What?
April: We almost got kidnapped.
Leo: Oh, okay.
Leo: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!
#donatello x reader#donnie x reader#leonardo x reader#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt x reader#tmnt x reader fluff#mikey tmnt#2012 tmnt x reader#platonic tmnt x reader#raphael tmnt#tmnt#tmnt 2012 x reader#tmnt donnie#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt mikey x reader#tmnt raph x reader#tmnt raphael x reader#tmnt x gn reader#tmnt x reader platonic#tmnt 2012#teenage mutant ninja turtles#turtle tots
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SHOCK FACTOR★彡 PART 3
Previous. Next.
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader
Warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes/language, tension
Summary: having Paige’s number means she can bother you whenever she wants, but maybe a night out with her isn’t a bother at all.
A/n: enjoy guys 😇lmk what you think of this one
YOU
is this paige?
???
Has anyone else given you their number since you got here?
YOU
no…
PAIGE
Aight, so who else would it be then? 🤘🏼
YOU
i should’ve thrown out that napkin tbh!🙂
PAIGE
Ignoring that. How’s the hangover?
YOU
it’s ok. getting coffee helped ig
PAIGE
Having another night out might help too…if u fw that
YOU
with you? id rather die then “fw that” 🙏
PAIGE
Ok rot in ya hotel room see if I care 🤷🏼♀️
Seen.
PAIGE
Actually nvm I feel bad for ur miserable ass. U shud fr go out and see what Connecticut has to offer. Ever been to Gianni’s?
YOU
no i haven’t, I’ve only been here for like two days. is it italian food?
PAIGE
Only the best in town 😉 u shud def go
YOU
ugh I would but i have to see if elaine can take me cus my teammates are busy
PAIGE
I could take u if u want?
YOU
typing…
YOU CAN FEEL yourself getting socially drained as you text her, at least that’s what you tell yourself. Paige is infuriating and arrogant, which comes with the deadly additions of charisma and the ability to keep you on edge with every word spoken, or even typed.
You’d always known of this, even before your game with her that day. A player like Paige can be hard to come across; perfectly capable, talented and independent yet somehow the best team player out there, sharing passes she can without a doubt make. Why? Because she doesn’t need to prove anything.
It often bothered you, especially since you constantly needed to prove yourself during the start of your college career. You took every shot you could get your hands on, and she gave shots away like candy whilst still having a huge reputation as a player. Obviously it went deeper than that, but the simple fact just stuck to your brain.
You can’t help but recall her face, inches from yours attempting to pry your ball from your grasp. Like she was deserving, like it was hers for the taking. She had made a similar face on the panel where she dissed you soon afterwards, and then again while watching you at the bar, and just before writing her number on the napkin. You wondered if she was making that face right now as she texts you.
PAIGE
I could take u if u want?
The text is simple but it summons some sort of unique feeling in you. Paige Bueckers is offering to pick you up in her car, on her night off, and take you to a restaurant. And you, for whatever reason, are considering saying yes.
Sighing to yourself, you weigh your options. Option one: you sit around your hotel alone till your teammates come back, most probably drunk from a bar since it’s a Saturday. Option two: you ask Elaine to take you out once again, even though you’re probably gonna see her the whole week you’re here. Option three: you let the girl who shit-talked you at a post game conference take you out for dinner.
YOU
i guess i should go out. DONT act like ur doing me a favour tho….n if I don’t have fun i’m blocking u.
PAIGE
Drop the addy. I’ll come by in an hour
Seen.
After hurriedly pulling yourself together, taking an Advil, checking out the restaurant’s Instagram and getting ready you can’t help but find your heart steadily hammering inside of you. Paige is coming to your hotel. You’re gonna be in her car. She’s taking you to her favourite restaurant. This has to be the most peculiar thing that has happened all year.
-
The car ride is significantly better then you expected it would be. Paige adamantly seems to prevent any room for awkward silence to seep through, commenting on your outfit and filling the vehicle with music that makes the interior buzz from the volume. She has a free look on her face, chair reclined more then you’d dare if you were in the drivers seat, hair blowing in her face from the windows being down.
“I’m surprised you’re driving me out.” You say, finally airing what was on your mind.
Paige shrugs. “Didn’t feel like drinking today. Plus, I’m in the mood to be generous and show you what Storrs has.”
“If someone told me I’d be hanging out with Paige Bueckers like a week ago, I think I’d be fucking appalled. Or disgusted. Or both.” You laugh.
She chuckles, glancing at you sneakily. “You swear a lot, don’t you?”
“Awe my bad.” You pout, giving her a fake-concerned look. “Forgot you can’t handle a little language.”
“I can handle it,” she grumbles. “I just think cursing is better for specific situations.”
“Like what?”
Paige wets her lips almost sheepishly, but she keeps her eyes straight on the road. “Like sex.”
A beat passes before you respond “Sorry I couldn’t savour a couple words for you and your little kink.”
She looks over at you now, and you meet her gaze as equally as you can. She just lets out a smile, shaking her head to herself as she pulls into the parking lot. You try to ignore the elevator-sinking feeling in your stomach from her words as you get out from the car.
The restaurant is beautiful. It’s cozy, ambient and well decorated. Not too fancy and not too full, just perfect. You’re seated in a more secluded area, per Paige’s request. She orders for you, insisting she knows exactly what to get for the best possible experience.
The food is good, and you don’t feel the need to hide it from Paige, who visibly grows at your praise for the place she picked out.
“So, are you jus in Connecticut for Elaine?” She says.
“Not really.” You reply. “Me and some of the others are just doing a little East Coast road-trip. I wasn’t really interested in coming to Storrs, but it made sense to come by and see her.”
“For a whole week?” She raises her eyebrow. “Seems like you’re close.”
“I was only gonna stay in Storrs for a couple days, then go to Hartford but the girls seem to like it here.” You shrug. “They think it’s cute, being a small town and all, but it’s pretty boring if you’re not a student.”
“It’s better if you’re with fun people.” She smiles.
“I hope you don’t think you’re fun.”
“Compared to Elaine I definitely am.” Paige scoffs.
You can’t help but feel a little more hostility than humour in her tone.
“Do you guys know each other?” You ask, as sly and innocent as you can muster. Paige seems hesitant.
“Nah.” She finally decides. “I mean, we’ve talked before. Ion know her personally.”
“It’s kinda funny, she said she doesn’t pay much attention to you but I think she might have a little crush.” You laugh.
Paige visibly stiffens at this, which catches you by surprise.
In a split second she regains her calm, unbothered composure. “What has she said?”
“Not much.” You shrug. “Just seems a little interested.”
Paige’s jaw clenches for a moment, and you’re not surprised when she changes the subject. “How many people have been on your case since I posted that picture of us from the bar on my story?”
“God, so many.” You laugh, shaking your head. “You?”
“You don’t even wanna know.” She scoffs. “Not sure why everyone was so crazy bout it though, s’not like we were beefing for real.”
“Right!” You say, happy she seems to be on the same page. “It was just some petty crap. I guess people just really were hoping there would be some rivalry.”
You think for a moment, before saying. “Maybe we should keep this drama thing up. Might be fun.”
“It’s a lil too late for that,” Paige shakes her head with a slight smile. “remember how KK and Ice were on live yesterday at the coffee shop? Yeah, we kinda were in the background at some point. People saw us talking.”
“You’re joking.”
“Dead serious. There are edits and everything.”
You rest your head in your hands, elbows on the table, lessening the proximity between you and her. “I only get into these weird ass situations when I interact with you, Paige.”
She sits up in her seat, blue eyes quickly looking you up and down. “Yet you’re still here.”
“Girl’s gotta have fun.” You shrug. Her foot hits yours under the table, her eyebrow raised as if challenging you. You have a sudden thought of going under the table and letting your hands unzip her cargo pants, but instead you just kick her back.
“Wanna go?” She asks. You don’t want to go back to the hotel, and she seems to pick up on it. “The area we’re in is nice. We can walk around a bit.”
You smile and nod. “Split the bill?”
“Fuck no.” She shoots you a look, pulling out her credit card from the back of her phone.
“You cursed!” You exclaim, to which she scoffs.
“I said it’s alright in specific situations.”
Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Well we’re not having sex, are we?”
The way her eyelashes flutter at your question gives you jitters. “Aight, stop talking.” She finally manages to respond. You just send her a look that you hope makes her nervous.
-
“You’re not funny.” She grumbles, attempting to grab your phone from you.
“Back off, Bueckers! I’m serious.” You laugh, sidestepping her with your phone above your head. The street was empty and the lights were on, putting the two of you in a yellow glow against the night. You’d been walking around the neighbourhood, observing houses and learning a bit about Storrs for the past hour.
“Give me your phone, I know you ain’t deleting those.” She huffs, grabbing for your phone. You try to escape her grasp but she’s got longer limbs, so eventually your phone is in her pocket and she’s wearing a proud look on her face.
It’s nice to walk in the quiet of evening, her beside you. You have no idea where you are but you can’t help but trust she can get you back to the car in no time. Not just yet though.
You turn to look at Paige almost shamelessly. There’s just so much to observe with her. Her confident posture, toothy smile, sleek straightened blonde hair, even the baggy cargo pants and sweater. She always looked good, it never failed to annoy you.
“Either your pants are too tight or crazy baggy.” You note. She just raises her eyebrow.
“Sounds like you just want me to take my pants off at this point.”
“Wouldn’t mind a little show.” You reply almost instantly, shocking yourself at the surge of confidence. She doesn’t seem taken aback, in fact she’s intrigued.
“Is that your usual routine? Have a meal out then have a meal at home?”
“Maybe it is.” You shrug. “I never object to a wine n dine.”
“And what exactly would you object to?”
“Cocky girls who think they’re the shit.” You say, turning your head to face her. You don’t mean to target her, but she simply smiles.
“Is it really being cocky if I can back it up though?” Paige asks quietly. You’re not walking anymore, stuck in place on an empty path between buildings. She’s closing in on you until your back hits a brick wall. The way Paige is staring down at you, hands in her pockets, lip between her teeth. It’s nothing you’d object to, ever.
“I won’t believe it till I see it.” You mutter, holding her eye. The air is tense in a new way that you haven’t felt with her since you first met in the bar. Her face is entrancing.
Paige’s hands lift your jaw upwards, and she leans into your ear. “You might not see it,” she mumbles, breath hot against your skin. “But you’ll definitely feel it.”
When she pulls back from your ear she stays hovering just above you, hands chastely holding your head up. You’re in the perfect position to kiss, and you can’t stop your eyes from darting between her electric stare to her lush, pink lips.
You can literally feel her breath on your mouth when a piercing ring cuts through the moment. It’s coming from her pocket, and she pulls out your phone. Paige’s face twists as she reads the screen. “It’s Elaine.”
“Just- just decline it.” You rush out, not caring how desperate you sound. You can feel how wet you are, and the lack of heat against you is blaring.
“She texted you too.” Paige scoffs. “She’s waiting for you at your hotel.”
You don’t even know what to say. Paige’s face is expressionless. You’re disappointed, but there’s no point in begging. Nothing really happened.
“Let’s get you home.” She says, starting to walk back from where you came. “Shouldn’t keep her waiting.” Her tone is dripping with toxicity. It makes you shiver.
#Spotify#fanfiction#fanfic#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#rpf#paige bueckers x reader#paige buckets#paige x reader#x reader#tension#uconn women’s basketball#usc wbb#rivals to lovers
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SUNSHINE
PAIRING ➩ basketball player heeseung x cheerleader reader
WARNINGS ➩ um its super rough smut lol
WC ➩ 5k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ i hate both short works and straight smut but i guess that vlog got to me so here you go NOT PROOFREAD also i don’t like writing the boys completely out of character and i do not think hs would say or do half of these things lol but for the sake of the story
“You might just be the least positive cheerleader of all time.”
You were turning your head to the side to glare at the voice suddenly appearing from your left, sighing and rolling your eyes when you spotted who it was and going back to your position with your arms crossed on the side of the court as the game continued on.
“Aren’t you guys supposed to be all smiley and ‘go team’?” Heeseung was continuing on even though you were clearly ignoring him, something you did every time he attempted to bug you during the games and rile you up enough to get a reaction.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on the court and not sat next to me on the bench?” You were snapping back at him and you quickly glanced at him before looking away when you saw the familiar smirk creeping up on his face.
Heeseung was definitely not a bench warmer, far from it considering he was practically the star of your schools basketball team and he knew you were aware of this. That still didn’t stop him from occasionally allowing the coach to switch him out so he could come and sit near the cheerleaders, seemingly finding a lot of mid game entertainment in you and your cold reactions.
You’d gone to school with him for most of your life but you never really noticed him until high school started and you joined the cheerleading team under the pressuring words of your mom.
She’d been one when she was your age and she claimed it to be the sole reason she loved high school, the place where she met all of her friends and eventually your father when he transferred their junior year. You’d pretty much expected to be forced into it since you were a child and now on your fourth and final year, you were more so just going through the motions.
Your stoic, and borderline aggressive, personality mixed with the image of you in a small glittery skirt and your hair sporting a giant obnoxious bow in your schools representative colors, seemed to catch the attention of the star player and he hadn’t left you alone since.
“When would I get to talk to you if I wasn’t on the bench?” He was leaning sideways towards you and you frowned softly, trying to ignore him and the stupid smirk sticking to his face now. “It’s not like you stop for me in the hallways.”
“Have you tried taking a hint?” You were once again harshly spitting the words at him and you felt a bit frustrated with yourself for not being able to keep your composure like normal, already stressed from an intense workload and the building pressure of graduation as it approached. “Why can’t you go bother your fan club, I’m sure they’d be more than willing.”
Heeseung definitely didn’t have the same concerns as you and you didn’t necessarily blame him. It isn’t his fault he was immediately offered full ride sport scholarships to multiple different schools and as much as you hated to admit it, he worked hard for his success and he deserved it.
That fact still didn’t make it any less annoying that he was constantly bugging you with his quick comments about your attitude or his countless attempts to flirt with you, asking for your number or sending you Valentine’s Day singing grams every year since you’d met, even though you’d stormed into the cafeteria freshman year and dumped his soda on his head for humiliating you.
He hadn’t gotten upset and started to dislike you like you had hoped for, instead he smiled and moved his wet hair out of his face before asking if you liked the flowers he’d left at your locker.
“Why would I do that? You know you’re my favorite, sunshine.” His tone was lower now and the nickname fell from his lips casually, routine by now considering how much he said it despite the fact you told him to knock it off every single time he used it.
You were sparing him once last glare before turning back towards the game and ignoring the fact he was a lot closer to you now, one small sideways scoot away from being off the bench and on the same bleacher seat you were on.
He was persistent to a point that you could almost admire and you’d never be foolish enough to deny that he was almost stupidly attractive but that didn’t change anything for you. You had too many differences for you to be truly interested and it didn’t help that he smelt like sweat almost every single time you saw him.
Plus, you weren’t lying about his fan club and you already had to deal with numerous sharp glares and mean whispers throughout the years and that was without you reciprocating the interest.
You’d long associated the boy with negative things so it was pretty common for you to greet his smiley face with an eye roll or a straight up sneer, trying your hardest to ignore him but typically falling into a small session of half bickering half flirting before he was giving up again and leaving you to sit and seethe. You couldn’t even escape him at home either, something you were especially aware of right now.
It was two hours into trying to get some homework done and your patience was wearing thin the longer the sound of the basketball outside continued on.
You just so happened to be in the universes shit list and you lived directly across from a park in the neighborhood. You’d been excited when you first moved in, being able to play constantly when you were younger and eventually developing it into a nice place to sit and relax after school. You would have solo picnics under one of the big trees or just go and listen to music laying in the grass.
That is until Lee Heeseung also moved into the neighborhood, starting off your sophomore year with a big obnoxious moving truck on the other side of the park and what followed nearly drove you insane.
He was outside nearly every single day after school and practice, no matter if it was cold or hot, rain or snow. What once had been a calming spot for you to unwind was quickly overtaken by the sound of rubber against cement and you stopped going the day he started.
Sometimes he’d wave at you from the court, catching sight of you glaring down at him from your open bedroom window, but he never made any attempts to talk to you or invite you to join him unlike he did in school and neither of you ever mentioned the fact you were neighbors during your little moments of heated conversation. You learned to ignore him over time but you were particularly stressed recently and before you knew it you were letting out an annoyed yell before marching out of your room.
You’d barely processed the fact you were moving as you tugged a hoodie over your head and slipped on your boots, heading out the door and slamming it as you passed through.
Some of your fire had disappeared by the time you were actually pushing out into the cold night air and crossing the empty street, your steps becoming more hesitant as you entered the park and approached the basketball court, realizing you were going to have to actually speak to him. He didn’t look over as you got closer and your frown appeared again at the sweat gleaming from his skin, his neck red and agitated like he was pushing himself past his limit.
“Do you ever go home?” You were asking before you had decided it was a good idea and you were almost as surprised as he was to hear your voice, jumping slightly at the same time he did as he whipped around to look at you.
He looked confused for a second when he saw you standing there on the court with your hands stuffed in your pockets but when he seemingly processed it was you, he was breaking into a small smile.
You watched him as he continued to pant and try and catch his breath to be able to respond to you, sighing in the meantime and taking a few step backwards so you could sit on one of the benches and stare up at him in the middle of the court.
“Almost didn’t recognize you without your pretty little skirt, sunshine.” His response was eventually coming and it immediately pulled an eye roll from you despite the fact your stomach flipped as he took a few steps in your direction, tucking his basketball under his arm routinely and watching you with amusement and interest.
“Yeah well…” You couldn’t think of a good comeback as he continued to get closer and you inwardly blamed it on the cold.
“Did you come to cheer me on?” He was asking in a soft voice but it had a mocking hint to it, not necessarily mean but potentially bitter and you stared up at him as his eyebrow cocked. “My own personal cheerleader?”
You were trying to get a good read on his expression but it wasn’t making any sense to you, his face lacking it’s usual lightheartedness and almost looking conflicted as he watched you and seemingly waited for you to finally think of a witty response. You didn’t have one, thrown off by both his strange demeanor and having a conversation in an unfamiliar place and you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disappointed at your sudden loss for words.
He wasn’t saying anything further and you would’ve sighed in relief if it wasn’t for the fact he was watching you so intensely, eventually sitting beside you on the bench and you tensed up when you felt his thigh pressing against yours.
“You didn’t have to stop playing.” You were eventually muttering and you would’ve been more self conscious about your out of character behavior if he wasn’t already being so strange.
“Yeah I did.” He was sighing and you turned your head to look at him, being met with his side profile as he stared straight ahead towards the court and ignored the fact you were staring at him. “You’re a distraction.”
A laugh was bursting from your lips accidentally, almost a scoff and you cut it off short by covering your mouth and giggling out an apology when he shot you a sideways glare. You were shaking your head and trying to gather yourself before clearing your throat softly. “You see me every time you play, never been a distraction then.”
“Are you kidding me?” Now it was his turn to laugh but it was a lot more dry than yours and almost sarcastic sounding, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually said that. “You don’t think seeing you in that outfit every game is a distraction?”
He was finally looking at you now and your face flushed at how close that made you, nearly touching noses if either of you leaned forward slightly but you stayed perfectly still and scanned over his face as you tried to take in his words. You would’ve thought he was joking around and doing his usual rounds of mindless flirting but his tone was flat and his face remained serious, even as you watched him curiously.
You weren’t exactly sure how to respond and your words felt caught in your dry throat, letting down your guard for just a second too long and being struck with nerves.
“A good distraction?” You were eventually pushing out and your voice lifted in a curious tilt, his serious face breaking into a small smile again at the sound of your soft question and hesitant tone, two things he rarely heard from you.
“Yeah sunshine, it’s good.”
——
You spent the next two days avoiding Heeseung as much as you can, having ended the night in some more whispered small talk before he was resuming practice and you were eventually slipping off back to your house once the cold became too much for your hands and nose.
It was weirdly nice to watch him play in a place where he wasn’t obviously trying to show off and under the pressures of competition, watching the skillful way he moved and the sweat that continued to reflect off his deep tanned skin despite the bitter cold touching on yours.
You still felt awkward for having interrupted him and it didn’t help that you had finally played into his flirting for once, mistakenly letting your guard down once you saw him in a more neutral environment and you felt extremely embarrassed about the whole entire encounter. You were telling yourself it had nothing to do with the fact he made your face flush every time he leaned closer or the way your stomach flipped as he talked about your skirt distracting him.
Sadly, you couldn’t stay away from him for long considering a school year quarter pep rally was approaching and everybody involved needed to come to the gymnasium to practice together, including both the cheerleaders and the basketball team.
You frequented the gym a lot more regularly than other students and were pretty used to being in front of a crowd or performing routines to all of your peers but you could tell some of the clubs who would be involved were feeling nervous, striking up conversation with one of the boys from the dance club to try and ease his nerves.
The conversation was entirely friendly and even a little bit awkward considering you barely knew him and he was a lot younger than you but little did you know, Heeseung was watching you from across the gym and making his own assumptions about the interaction.
You completely missed the way his jaw was clenching as he watched the two of you laugh, you instinctively leaning forward and touching the boys arm as a comforting gesture and giving further reason for the hard glare being sent your way from the other side of the room. It didn’t help that you hadn’t been speaking to him and had went right back to actively avoiding him, he’d been overthinking it and looking forward to talking to you about his worries today since you had to be in close proximity.
So it was driving him crazy that you still hadn’t approached him and even worse, you were too caught up in a conversation with some kid he didn’t bother to place a name to.
Eventually the first round of practice was going to start soon and Heeseung watched as your coach said something to you briefly, stared as you nodded in acceptance and then wandered off to go and gather whatever it was that she had asked for.
He was following behind you without even thinking about it, completely ignoring the calls from his teammates asking where he was going and urging him to hurry up before the run through started. You were heading back towards the storage lockers where there was plenty of extra balls and uniforms, anything that might be needed during a game or an event.
You were barely thinking about the basketball player during this whole time, too distracted with the busyness of the day, but he immediately came to mind when you felt something pressing up against you from behind after entering the storage room that was tucked behind the large indoor bleachers.
“What are you doing?” You were grumbling out to him in your usual annoyed tone even though your stomach was flipping at the fact he was actually touching you for once, something he rarely did despite his constant advances.
He wasn’t fully pressed against you but just enough so that you could feel his clothing near yours, you could sense his large frame looming over you and practically caging you in near the wall you’d been passing when he arrived. You shifted slightly so you could turn your head to look over your shoulder and glare up at him when he didn’t respond.
“Who’s the kid?” He was responding and his voice was lower than usual, lacking it’s typical lightness and humor that came along whenever he felt like teasing you.
“Don’t be jealous of a freshman, it’s not a good look on you.” You were shaking your head and sighing, turning back to look at the shelf and try your best to ignore him despite your alarming awareness to how close the two of you were.
It was only increasing when his hand was finally touching you, snaking forward and resting against your hip in a way that caused your breath to catch in your throat, making you lose your nonchalant demeanor for just a split second before you were attempting to compose yourself again. He was just holding onto your hip, his hand large enough that his fingertips were pressing into your stomach.
You didn’t say anything as he touched you and you still didn’t when he was tugging you backwards softly, pulling your bottom half against his instead of fully pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second at the feeling of him but you didn’t want him to see the obvious effect he had over you.
You were wearing a hoodie over your cheerleading uniform and half of his hand was underneath it so he could feel the hem of your skirt properly, bunching up the thick fabric around his arm slightly. He’d only pulled your lower half backwards so you were partially bent over now, barely enough to be noticiable but the implication made your cheeks burn.
“Why would I be jealous?” He was finally asking and his voice didn’t cut the tension at all, if anything worsening it. “Wasn’t him you were thinking about when you put this on.”
A scoff was falling from your lips at his sudden claim, despite how true it was considering you’d stared in the mirror particularly long this morning thinking about Heeseung calling you a distraction. Your careless attitude wasn’t holding too strong especially since he was squeezing your hip bone softly, your body instinctively pushing back further against him and causing your breath to stutter.
You felt slightly dizzy from the feeling of him against you so intimately, mixed with the fact that he had obviously been jealous over something as simple as you having a conversation. It should’ve annoyed you like it normally did but your heart raced slightly instead and you placed your hands against the wall subconsciously.
He took that as a cue to bend you over more, bringing his other hand up to your empty hip and using both of them to tug you fully backwards by the waist so you were flushed against him.
“Why are you wearing this?” He was suddenly asking and you were confused for a second before you felt him tugging on your large hoodie, childish annoyance in his tone at the fact most of your uniform was covered up.
You laughed softly at his whining, your voice embarrassingly affected and breathless. “Didn’t want to be a distraction.”
“That’s bullshit, you like knowing I’m watching you.” He was mumbling again now and it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, not really caring if you heard him. He was taking another step forward now and you could feel him more now, your head falling forward at the realization he was hard against you. “You’d let me take you right here, wouldn’t you?”
You considered not answering for a second and lowering his ego but he was slightly shifting backwards and releasing the pressure and a wave of panic ran through you.
“Yes yes I would.” You were rushing out and moving backwards to try and feel him again, ignoring the soft chuckle he gave and the way he squeezed your desperate hips in amusement. “You know I would.”
“Always so mean to me sunshine.” His voice was mocking again like it was the other night at the park and you were slightly thrown off by his change of demeanor, not expecting the roughness from the boy who was always big smiles and loud laughter everytime you’d seen him. He was bordering mean at times with his rough touches and provoking voice but you didn’t mind it at all, knowing you’d be dripping down your thighs if you were less clothed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being mean Hee.” Your voice was high and whiny but you were too turned on to be embarrassed, knowing how pathetic you must look.
“Show me how sorry you are.” He was instructing and you paused for a second, not exactly sure what he meant until he was lessening his hold on your hips. “Fuck yourself against me.”
Your breath was catching in your throat again and you let out a soft whine, one of your hands on the wall sliding down it slightly as you almost lost your balance.
He wasn’t exactly radiating patience and you were beyond desperate so you wasted no time in giving him what he wanted, pushing yourself back against him harder and crying out when you felt that he wanted it as much as you did, almost painfully hard now. His hips instinctively moved forward to meet yours but he immediately froze and stopped, letting you do all the work as you continued to roll your hips against him and try to get some sort of relief.
It wasn’t nearly enough for you, barely enough pressure for you to feel him and imagine how deep he would feel inside you but not enough to actually help you out in your building desperation, overwhelmed with longing for him as your hand fell off the wall and reach back to grab into his wrist.
“Please, I need you to touch me please.” You were begging him and a soft cry sunk into your voice, your head spinning with how bad you wanted to feel him anywhere.
“Fuck look at you.” He was grunting out before caving into your request, pulling you up softly and walking forward so now your entire body was pressed against the wall.
The cement was cold on your cheek and it would’ve been too uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the immediate distraction he was providing, his large hand slipping under your hoodie and aggressively groping your chest. His knuckles must’ve been rubbing against the wall but he didn’t show any signs of caring about the pain, twisting your hard nipple in his fingers and humping himself against you.
Your head was falling backwards to land on his shoulder, panting and letting out streams of high pitched whines as he roughly played with your mounds and thrusted against your skirt covered core.
He was using his free hand to reach over and grip your chin, holding it tightly between his fingers and turning your face so he could sloppily kiss you from where you laid on his shoulder. You were happily humming into his mouth despite the amateurish way you were moving against each other, more combined teeth and swapped spit than an actual kiss.
You could feel it dripping down your chin as he licked into your mouth, completely filthy and dirtier than you ever imagined him being. It was driving you absolutely insane and you’d completely forgotten about where you were or the fact people were expecting you back, the door not locked and accesible to anyone who came looking for you.
“Want you inside me Hee, please.” You were crying out into the kiss and he was only pulling back enough so you could speak, watching you with hooded eyes and parted lips and he tried to catch his breath and process what you were begging for. “I need you so bad, I can’t breathe.”
“Want me to fuck you sunshine?” His mocking tone was back and he squeezed your chest aggressively to emphasize his words, rutting against you in a sharp thrust that sent you harder into the wall again. He ignored your shocked cry and did it again before laying another wet kiss against your mouth. “Tell me baby, go on and beg for me.”
“I’ll do anything please, anything.” You were nearly sobbing now as you desperately tried to appeal to him, rocking yourself backwards into his hard cock to try and get him riled up enough to snap. “Need your cock in me so bad, do anything.”
Your words were slurred and mainly gibberish by now but it seemed to be enough for him, he cursed under his breath as he watched you desperately beg for him and you barely had time to process the fact he was moving before he was tugging down his basketball shorts and pressing your face against the wall again.
You moaned sharply into the cold cement and you were grateful it muffled it slightly considering you only got louder once he was roughly pulling up your skirt, ripping down your panties in one go and not bothering to warn or prep you before he was pressing the head of his hard cock against your entrance.
“Next time I’ll take my time with you, make you fall apart for me slow.” He was muttering in your ear as he lined himself up, pressing forward slightly and covering your mouth with his head when you let out a loud cry. “Can’t wait anymore though, gonna fuck you like the slut you are.”
You were nodding enthusiastically at his demeaning words, the more coherent part of you fluttering with butterflies at the fact he was already thinking about a next time that wasn’t so rushed. You had no issue with him simply fucking you now, feeling like you’d die if he spent another second teasing you or building up to it.
He was finally pushing himself fully inside you and your legs would’ve gave out if it wasn’t for his arm that was snaking around your stomach and his heavy weight pressing you against the wall, practically suffocating you as you lost your breath from the feeling of his complete length inside of you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He was hissing out between gritted teeth and you instinctively clenched around him at the comment, satisfaction rolling through you when he groaned at the feeling. “No idea how long I thought about this.”
“Then show me.” You were snapping out, immediately hearing him laugh as your usual attitude resurfaced for a second, quickly growing impatient the longer he stayed still inside of you.
You were quickly taking back any anger you had when he was pulling out of you, almost all the way, before slamming his entire length back in. You could feel him so deep that you almost couldn’t catch a breath, bucking forward and your mouth parting in a silent cry that was immediately interrupted when he started to fuck into you at a fast pace.
He gave you no time to adjust to his thick size and you were grateful for it, the rough burn of him stretching you being exactly what you needed after years of bickering and teasing with him. It was beyond what you could’ve imagined, all that tension finally bursting into relief as he fucked you so rough you’d surely be coated in bruised by the time the pep rally actually rolled around.
You’d gone completely dumb and you knew he had too, holding his composure just enough to continue his aggressive thrust but losing all ability to tease you or make more comments towards your behavior.
He was holding you tightly against him and you almost wished you were somewhere more private so you could see him undressed, suddenly overcome with the need to feel his skin against yours and be completely covered in his warmth. You tried to ignore the unusually soft thought towards him and focus on how good he was making you feel, the familiar tight coil building in your stomach as he continued to fuck into you deep and rough.
“Please please.” You were begging again but you weren’t even sure what for at this point, your mouth just moving on instinctively so he didn’t stop under any circumstances.
“I know baby I know.” His voice was more gentle than it had been before but still just as tight and overwhelmed, definitely reaching the end rapidly himself like you were and trying his hardest to prolong it considering how good you felt as you kept getting tighter and tighter around him. “Squeezing my cock so good sunshine, you’re so perfect for me.”
“For you, just for you.” You were quickly responding to the casual possessiveness he had showed and this seemed to affect him more than anything, his hips faltering for a second in their assault before he was fucking into you even harder than you thought was possible. He clearly liked hearing you claim yourself as his own and you felt overwhelming dizzy at the realization.
It was a complete blur now as he fucked into you, coming undone faster than you ever had before and blacking out for a few seconds from the pleasure of him doing the same inside of you. You were too out of your head to care about the fact he had came inside of you and you didn’t even think about it.
You were immediately worried it would be awkward once you were coming back to your senses but then you processed the fact that Heeseung was placing soft kisses against your neck, turning you around gently so you were finally facing him and you felt a bit emotional from how kind he was being now after he’d just taken you so aggressively.
You were definitely in some sort of dropped space after the intensity you’d just been through because you were kissing him suddenly, happy you’d had him in that way but now feeling like you’d missed out on seeing him from this point of view.
He was grateful accepting the kiss and tugging you forward by your lower back, the same place he’d been holding but very different context now as he softly moved his mouth against yours and brushed your hair out of your face.
“Are you going to let me take you on a date now?” He was asking into the kiss and you pulled back to laugh softly, laying your head down on his shoulder and feeling the way they lifted as he chuckled at your reaction.
“Yeah hotshot… I’m sure we can work that out.”
#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fanfiction#heeseung#heeseung drabbles#heeseung x reader#heeseung smut#heeseung au#enhypen smut#enhypen au#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fic#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#lee heeseung#heeseung imagine#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung fanfic#heeseung fic#enha smut
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stuck
mark sloan x shy, fem!reader
summary: you and mark get to know each other when you get stuck in an elevator
A/N- i feel like he would love star wars (not as much as bailey tho)? but this gives me such katniss and peeta vibes
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You read the files that Doctor Shepherd had given you to take a look through because he thought his new patient may have some sort of problem with their heart and cardiology was your specialty. You were currently in the elevator, heading up to find an empty room to study your new case when the elevator suddenly came to a halt. Confusedly you glanced around and noticed Mark Sloan, the world’s number one man-whore was the only other person there.
He glanced up from his papers and made eye contact with you. “What happened?”, he questioned with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. This was the first time you’d heard him so nervous. “I think the elevator just broke.”, you sighed as the realisation just set in once you said it out loud. He huffed to himself. “Hopefully they’ll be able to fix it soon, I have a surgery in an hour.”, he stated, checking the time on his watch.
“Might as well get comfortable.”, he added as he fixed himself on the floor and placed his files beside him. You copied his actions and sat opposite him. “So, what case have you got there?”, he asked you, striking conversation. “Oh, just a new case Derek wanted me to check up on. What about you?”, you awkwardly asked as your cheeks blazed. “Just some boring charts of burn victims, I have to reconstruct their faces, arms and legs.”, he said. “Oh, lovely.”, you replied sarcastically.
You stared at the wall of the lift and zoned out into your own thoughts. It must have been around five minutes of silence before Mark started speaking again: “If we’re gonna be here for a while then we may as well get to know each other.”, he said, looking into your eyes. It wasn’t a bad idea, there was nothing else you could really do.
“Tell me three random facts about yourself. I’ll go first: I used to live in New York (I’m sure you’ve heard about that), my middle name is Everett and I love the Star Wars movies.”
“Uhm… this is actually hard to think about, hold on.”, you said, embarrassed. He chuckled slightly. “Okay, I hate posh restaurants, I also love the Star Wars movies and I have a pet cat named Jack.”
“Cool, why do you hate posh restaurants though?”, he questioned as he turned to you with amusement in his eyes. “They’re just so intimidating and I just generally don’t like the vibe of the, do you know what I mean? Also, they’re so overpriced like you could find some cosy place that sells nicer food for way cheaper.”, you said passionately. You did not like posh restaurants at all. “I get what you’re coming from to be honest. I always preferred a cute and little cafe opposed to a fancy restaurant.”, he reasoned.
“If I ever ask you out on a date, I guess I’ll know where to take you.”, he flirted which left your cheeks on fire, well that’s what it felt like anyway. “I’m not surprised everyone calls you a man-whore.”, you said as you ignored what he previously said. “That’s not my proudest nickname.”, he responded. “I want to change my nickname, I don’t want to be known as that anymore. I don’t want loads of hook-ups and flings, I want a real relationship.”
He gazed at you. “I swear we’re having a whole confession session here. Oh my God, it rhymed.”, he laughed to himself. You laughed along with him, he was pretty funny and cute. If you looked past his reputation, he was a nice guy.
After another fifteen minutes of talking and joking, firefighters had arrived and gotten the two of you out of the elevator. “Hey, Y/N, do you wanna hang out one day? Not in an elevator, of course.”, he asked you, almost anxiously as he awaited a response. “Yeah, I’d love to.”
“I promise I won’t take you to a posh restaurant.”, he added as he walked away and charmingly smirked at you. You laughed to yourself and waved him off. “We can work out a date.”
#mark sloan#mark sloan x reader#mcsteamy#greys anatomy#greys anatomy x reader#greys anatomy imagine#greys abc#fem!reader
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