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#it’s just so frustrating it makes me want to stop trying at all. but i’ve been down that road
pucksandpower · 5 hours
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Free Fucking Country
Max Verstappen x First Daughter of the US!Reader
Summary: the FIA needs a reality check — you’ve known this since they decided to punish your grown ass boyfriend for daring to say “fucked” in a press conference — and what better way to do this than by taking full advantage of your First Amendment rights … live on camera?
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The Texas sun beats down on the circuit. You’re standing off to the side, watching the race from a monitor, arms crossed. There’s an edge to your stance, a tightness in your jaw that no one’s missed, least of all Nico Rosberg.
“You look like you’re going to murder someone,” Nico says, chuckling under his breath. “Who’s the unlucky victim?”
You shoot him a sideways glance, not quite smiling. “Not someone. More like the entire FIA.”
Jenson Button raises a brow from his spot beside Nico. He’s been fiddling with a microphone, but now his full attention is on you. “Ah. Still upset about Singapore, then?”
You roll your eyes. “Still upset? I’m livid, Jenson. They punished Max for swearing. Swearing. Like, are we adults or are we running a kindergarten here?”
Nico and Jenson exchange a look, trying and failing to suppress a laugh.
“They’ve done worse to other drivers, to be fair,” Nico says, playing the diplomat despite the thirst for drama you know is itching to escape.
“I don’t care!” Your voice rises a little, and you realize you’re pacing now, hands flying around in frustration. “They target Max like he’s public enemy number one, and I swear it’s just because he’s honest. They can’t handle it when someone actually tells the truth!”
Nico nods, clearly amused by your rant but trying to stay neutral. “True. Max does have a ... blunt way of putting things.”
“He shouldn’t have to censor himself. It’s not like he was even that bad. They act like he threatened to burn down the paddock.” You huff, coming to a stop in front of Nico. “It’s just so stupid.”
Nico leans back, crossing his arms. “So, what are you going to do? You’re not exactly on the FIA’s Christmas card list either.”
A slow grin spreads across your face, and Nico’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh no. I don’t like that look. That’s trouble.”
Jenson smirks. “What’s she planning?”
“I need a favor,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief. You glance over at the camera setup behind them. “Can I borrow your camera for a minute?”
Both men stare at you like you’ve grown a second head.
“You want to go live? On Sky Sports?” Jenson asks, blinking in disbelief.
You shrug. “Why not?”
Nico shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re something else.”
But he steps aside, making way for you to take his place. “Alright, have at it. Just … maybe don’t get us all banned from the paddock, yeah?”
You wink. “No promises.”
Without missing a beat, you step in front of the camera, and within seconds, you’re live. Your pulse quickens, adrenaline buzzing in your veins. The weight of the moment hits you, but it only fuels your determination.
You clear your throat. “Hi, everyone! It’s me, your friendly neighborhood First Daughter, coming to you live from the US Grand Prix. Now, before we get back to the race, I have something I need to get off my chest.”
Nico and Jenson are barely holding back their laughter behind you, but you ignore them, fixing your gaze on the lens.
“Max Verstappen got punished for swearing during a press conference last week. Punished. For swearing. And you know what? That’s bullshit.”
The words fly out of your mouth, sharp and unfiltered. There’s a moment of stunned silence around you as people start to realize what’s happening.
You keep going, voice rising with every sentence. “The FIA is out of control. They’re so focused on micromanaging everything that they’ve forgotten what this sport is supposed to be about. Racing. Competition. Passion.”
Nico’s eyes widen as he leans toward Jenson. “Oh my God, she’s really doing it.”
Jenson just grins, watching in awe. “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
You don’t let up. “You want to punish someone for being honest? For being real? Then punish me too, because I’m about to say a hell of a lot more.”
You can see people gathering around, eyes glued to the monitors. You’ve got their attention now, and you’re not backing down.
“The FIA is so far up their own asses, they can’t see what’s really going on. Drivers are out there risking their lives, pushing the limits, and all they care about is how polite they are in a press conference? Are you fucking kidding me?”
You wave your hands around, the frustration boiling over. “I’m sick of this shitty double standard. Max gets penalized for cursing, but the countless times that the FIA has done something much worse? Silence. It’s ridiculous.”
By now, there’s a crowd forming around you. You see a few FIA officials watching from the corner, looking like they’re trying to figure out what to do. You don’t stop.
“If the FIA wants to keep policing language, they should start by looking at themselves. They’re a bunch of fucking hypocrites who don’t know the first thing about what it takes to be a real racer. They’re killing the spirit of the sport.”
Just then, you spot one of the stewards marching toward you, followed by two security guards. You flash a grin at the camera. “Oh look, here they come. The fun police.”
The steward, a stern-looking man with a clipboard, stops right in front of you. “Ma’am, you need to leave immediately.”
You laugh, leaning into the camera, making sure everyone’s still watching. “Really? You’re gonna kick me out for talking? Last time I checked, this is a free fucking country. First Amendment, bitches! Try to shut me up, I dare you.”
The steward’s face reddens. “You need to leave, now.
But before the security guards can even move, your Secret Service detail materializes out of nowhere, surrounding you. They stand tall, arms crossed, ready to intervene.
You laugh again, this time louder. “Oh, you didn’t think about that, did you? You can’t kick me out. What are you gonna do, arrest the President’s daughter on live TV?”
The steward looks like he’s about to explode, but there’s nothing he can do. He steps back, clearly out of his depth, while the camera continues rolling.
You take a deep breath, calming down just enough to finish your rant with a flourish. “So, FIA, if you’re watching — and I know you are — get your act together. Start treating the drivers like adults, and stop with the petty bullshit. Or I swear, I’ll make it my mission to drag you on the broadcast every single fucking race.”
Before you can say anything else, you feel a presence beside you. You turn just in time to see Max walking up, eyes wide, clearly catching on to what’s happening. He looks from you to the cameras, then back to you, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Without a word, he steps forward, wraps an arm around your waist, and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s sudden, unexpected, but it’s the kind of kiss that makes time stop, the kind that speaks louder than words.
When he pulls away, there’s a smirk playing on his lips. “You always know how to make a scene.”
You shrug, a mischievous grin on your face. “Someone’s gotta stand up for you.”
Max laughs, shaking his head. “Well, you sure did.”
Nico and Jenson are clapping from behind, both of them thoroughly entertained. Jenson leans into the camera, grinning from ear to ear. “Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N, everybody.”
You step back, still grinning, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The steward looks like he’s given up entirely, and the crowd is buzzing with energy.
Max leans in close, his voice low. “You know you’re going to get a lot of hate for this, right?”
You shrug, glancing up at him. “Let them try. I’m not scared of a little backlash.”
He shakes his head, eyes shining with admiration. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’m just getting started.”
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seventeenpins · 15 hours
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new rules
pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅
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You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.
DO NOT PICK UP
You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.
And then it lights up again.
Just ignore it. Just ignore it.
As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.
It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 
But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–
And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.
“Hi, baby-”
Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.
“Hi Logan.”
“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 
“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”
“But you answered.” 
Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.
“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”
It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.
"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.
“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”
You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.
“What do you want, Logan?”
He takes a deep breath.
“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”
“No.”
“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”
You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.
It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.
“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.
“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”
He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”
You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.
Is this really living?
“Fine. You can come over.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”
With a snort, he ends the call.
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He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 
With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.
He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.
When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 
Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.
It sends a shiver down your spine.
You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 
You need to gain some control back.
“Condom,” you tell him. 
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”
He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.
Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 
In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.
“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.
“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”
“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”
“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”
“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”
You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.
“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”
“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.
You groan, and he laughs.
You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 
The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.
But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 
You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-
He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.
After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.
For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.
But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.
“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”
Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.
“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”
He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 
He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.
“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”
You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.
“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-
“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 
“Fuck you, Logan.”
“Use your words.”
“Yes-”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”
You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.
It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.
He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 
As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.
He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 
You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.
At least you got those tide pens. 
You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.
You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.
—-
You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.
You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.
Back to this-
"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.
"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 
You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”
"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 
He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.
This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.
You leave the room.
A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.
"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”
He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.
"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.
You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”
He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.
You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.
A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.
"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”
Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.
You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.
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You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.
And then one night you get a text. 
He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.
DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video
With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.
You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.
Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–
It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.
It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.
There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.
This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.
You hit play. 
At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.
“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”
AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.
Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 
A moment later, the text comes through.
“Ready for you, princess.”
God, if only it would take more than that.
As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 
You’re at his house an hour later. 
You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 
You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.
And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.
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hyunebunx · 3 days
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Wow I’m stupid I pressed send way too fast 🩵 with Lee Know??
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˖˙ ᰋ ── 🩵 - kissing in the rain with Minho
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: a teeny tiny amount of angst but it has a happy ending
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: thank you sm for requesting!!! <3 i had soo many ways of writing this in my head that i struggled lol. i really hope you like what i came up with. it's loosely (very) based on the rain scene in pride and prejudice so enjoy!! <33
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Arguments were not a usual occurrence in your relationship. Most of the time you managed to settle any disagreement before it could escalate to such heights, the perfectly communicating couple all of your friends couldn’t help but feel a little envious of.
Now was not one of those times; your stress and emotions were getting the best of both you and Minho in the most unpleasant way. You hated arguing with him, getting angry and unable to see the other’s point of view, clouded by the desire to be right and make each other understand where you were coming from.
“You don’t get it.” Minho shakes his head with a sigh, forearms resting on the wheel as the rain poured outside your safe haven, hitting the windshield at an alarming pace and preventing you from seeing anything, even with the headlights on.
“Explain it to me, then!” You bite back, body facing his in the heated passenger seat that was keeping you warm and cozy despite the chill outside. Even when arguing you could admit Minho was the most considerate person alive – you didn’t ask him to turn on the heat, he must have done it when he noticed you trembling like a leaf after getting in.
He surprised you after work, dropping by and driving directly to one of your favorite restaurants just in time for dinner and a well deserved date night. Everything was perfect, the location, the food, and especially the company, laughing and having a great time with the love of your life.
Until things turned sour on your drive home, and what started as a silly disagreement turned into a full-on argument about something you didn’t find significant enough even to remember.
“That’s what I’ve been doing for the past ten minutes but it seems you don’t want to listen!”
You’ve been walking (or driving) in circles, with him getting frustrated and you following right on his tail until the car came to a stop right in front of your apartment building.
It’s not like you didn’t want to listen or care to hear him out, it’s just that Minho seemed to make something out of nothing, insisting and pushing forth the same idea like you were nothing more than a child who lacked basic comprehension. It was frustrating and exhausting, especially after the long day you’ve had.
“Min, I’ve been listening.” You try to smooth things over, warm hand landing on his thigh comfortingly. “Just because I’m not giving you the answers you want doesn’t mean I’m not hearing you.”
Minho remains silent, head turned the other way to stare out the window and not acknowledge your presence. When the silence stretches on, you give up with a sigh and retract your hand, reaching for your purse in the backseat and opening the car door in the same breath.
“What are you – “ You close it right before he can finish the sentence, set on getting inside with or without him to finally take the bubble bath you’ve been daydreaming about all day at work.
“Kitten!” His voice follows a moment later, the sound of the car door slamming louder than him amongst the deafening rain. “Y/n!”
Despite yourself and the insanity of spending even one more minute in this storm, you stop and allow him to catch up, not protesting as his warm hands land on your shoulders and turn you around almost desperately.
“Where are you going? We are not done talking.” He states, dark hair and clothes getting soaked at an alarming pace as the rain spares neither of you.
“But I am!” You exhale, the chill settling into your bones. “We won’t reach an agreement like this so let’s just stop!”
His eyes widen as he pulls you closer, chest to chest, figures illuminated by the bright headlights almost blinding. “Baby, wait – “
“I hate fighting with you, Min.” Without meaning to, you interrupt him once again, reaching up to cup his face and drag him closer. “I’m sorry, okay? We can talk this over calmly inside after we cool down. Just not like this, please, I can’t do it anymore.”
He nods instantly, agreeing without a doubt and most likely seeing his faults too, and not only yours. Then, when you expect him to let go and finally follow you in, Minho surprises you the second time tonight by leaning over and connecting your lips in a kiss full of passion and love, reminding you once again that the heart in his chest beats first and foremost for you. His upper limbs cling to your body just like your clothes, hugging you tightly while your hands squeeze his face affectionately, a smile sneaking past and pulling one from him as well, on the verge of beaming into the kiss.
The rain seems to disappear, the cold too, like you weren’t bothered by either in the first place. Minho has that effect on you, helping you see the good in every situation. Sure, the location was not ideal – nothing could be less romantic than a barely lit parking lot – but as always, the company mattered more. And the message he was trying to send. When words failed you, actions worked better, speaking louder and getting your point across without much effort.
Sure, the argument wasn’t resolved but you both managed to make the other understand what mattered the most. You might be disagreeing now, momentarily stuck in a small pothole along the way, but you still loved each other, you would get over it and be okay in the end.
Because that’s what true love meant. Getting through things together and continuing to walk down your joined paths, hand in hand, no matter how many potholes or rough patches you encounter. A small setback won’t ever erase your feelings for each other, or make you forget all the beautiful moments you’ve shared.
And maybe, just maybe, a kiss was all you needed to finally understand Minho’s point when you sat down and resolved things that night. He, on the other hand, needed a few more to be satisfied.
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ewyuzu · 2 days
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cold distance
toji fushiguro x reader
warning: contains emotional conflict and themes of abandonment.
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you sit at the edge of the bed, your fingers nervously tracing the hem of your shirt as you wait for toji to come back. the apartment feels colder when he’s not around, the silence heavy and unsettling. you hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. but instead of relief, all you feel is a knot tightening in your chest. he’s been gone for days—no call, no text, no sign of life.
he strolls in, as casual as ever, tossing his jacket onto the couch without so much as a glance in your direction. his hair is slightly dishevelled, and there’s a faint bruise on his jaw, but he acts like nothing’s wrong, like this is normal.
“you’re late again,” you say quietly, not wanting your voice to shake, but the frustration is hard to hide.
toji barely spares you a glance, his tone dismissive. “got caught up. not a big deal.”
you swallow hard, feeling the familiar anger rise up inside you. it’s always like this—he comes back late, no explanation, and expects you to just accept it. for once, you can’t. “it is a big deal,” you snap, standing up, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. “you disappear for days, and i have no idea if you’re even alive. and when you finally show up, you act like nothing happened.”
he arches a brow, his expression indifferent. “i told you before, this is how it is. if you can’t handle it, maybe you’re not cut out for this.”
his words sting more than you want to admit, but you can’t let him brush you off like that. “it’s not just about handling it, toji. you make everything else your priority—your jobs, your survival, even your past. but what about us? what about me?” your voice is trembling now, but you push through, needing him to understand.
he lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark hair. “i’ve told you from the start, i’m not the kind of guy who sits around and plays house. this is what i do. it’s how i survive.”
“and what about your son?” the words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and you immediately see his expression change. his eyes darken, and his posture stiffens. you know you’ve hit a nerve, but you can’t stop now. “you don’t just push me aside, you push everyone away. including him. don’t you even care about him?”
toji’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. the tension between you both thickens, the air heavy with unspoken words. when he finally speaks, his voice is low and controlled, but there’s an edge to it. “that’s none of your business.”
“it is my business,” you insist, taking a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “he’s your son, toji. and you act like he doesn’t even exist. how can you just ignore that?”
his eyes flash with something—anger, maybe, or guilt—but he doesn’t let it show. instead, he scoffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “you don’t know anything about it. about me, or him. so stop acting like you do.”
“then tell me,” you plead, your voice softer now, more desperate. “tell me why you’re so distant, why you shut everyone out. why you act like you don’t care.”
toji’s gaze hardens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to walk away, like he always does when things get too real. but instead, he steps closer, his presence looming over you. “i care about what i need to survive. that’s it. if you’re expecting more than that, you’re wasting your time.”
his words hit you like a punch to the gut. you can feel your chest tighten, your breath catching in your throat. you’ve known from the start that toji isn’t the type to open up easily, but hearing him say it so bluntly, so coldly, feels like a slap in the face.
“so that’s it?” you ask quietly, blinking back the sting of tears. “everything else comes second, including me?”
toji doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you, really looks at you for the first time since he walked in. there’s something in his eyes—something raw, something he’s trying to bury deep. but it’s fleeting, gone in an instant as he shrugs. “i’ve never promised you anything different.”
your heart sinks, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy stone. you don’t know what you expected—maybe some kind of reassurance, some sign that he does care, that you mean something to him. but all you’re left with is this cold, hard truth.
“i can’t keep doing this,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “i can’t keep waiting around, hoping you’ll change. i deserve more than that.”
toji’s jaw clenches, and for a split second, you think you see a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or hesitation. but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. he doesn’t try to stop you as you turn away, walking towards the door, your chest heavy with the weight of your decision.
just as your hand reaches the doorknob, his voice breaks the silence. “you don’t need me. you’ll be fine.”
you pause, your heart aching at the sound of his voice, at the emptiness in his words. you want to turn around, to see if he’s really as detached as he sounds. but you don’t. instead, you nod, even though he can’t see it, and open the door.
“maybe it’s you who needs to realise that,” you whisper, stepping out into the cold night, leaving him behind.
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mugiwara-lucy · 2 days
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So if you all are unaware, yesterday it was revealed that Georgia apparently wants to not only hand count their ballots but MAGA is trying to make Nebraska do a “winner take all” process.
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My thoughts on this? I say let them. Let’s not forget they tried this same nonsense back in 2020 when Trump was in power but now he’s just a candidate. And if anyone is feeling discouraged I HIGHLY recommend THIS:
They tried this fuckery four years and failed and will fail again.
Even though I’m VERY angry at how the “party of values, law and order 🙄 “ are partaking in tactics they’re supposedly against, I’m relieved to see people are angry and not throwing in the towel.
Why? Because let’s channel that frustration into ENERGY and use it to vote out these jokers and FINALLY be done with the nine year nightmare known as Donald Trump!! Did we let this stop us four years ago? No! So let’s get even more energized and fight back!!
And I’ve seen lots of early voting posts which makes me even more confident!
Remember, we’re close to the finish line now let’s ride it out ‘til the end!!
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anangelinthepit · 1 day
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Without You…
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Part 4
Warning ⚠️ - possessive behavior and break in. Uncomfortable topics
************************************************
Noah’s POV
“Oh Ruby, you forgot who you were married to didn’t you ?”
I pushed the guys off of me and let out a frustrated yell. Even though I’m pissed off, I couldn’t help but begin to laugh. One man with all my power doesn’t take losing control gently and welcomes the sweet insanity that follows.
“My wife,” I said looking up at the old broken down building she resided in.
“MY WIFE. The one who is carrying MY son threw me out of her house. This isn’t fucking happening. IM THE ONE WHO CALLS THE FUCKING SHOTS AROUND THIS BITCH.”
After punching the brick wall and kicking over trash cans, the voice of reason began to try and calm my anger.
“Dude, what the fuck was that?” Nick said in a demanding tone
“A conversation between me and the Mrs,” I said lighting a cigarette
“Noah she’s fucking six months pregnant, what were you planning on doing?”
“Oh please, I wasn’t gonna put my hands on her, but she needs to remember who fucking makes the rules around here. Nick, she shouldn’t be in this shady ass fucking apartment with some bitch she barely knows. I didn’t even have to get rid of her forcefully she was willing to run off and sleep with you. What does that tell you ?”
“It tells me that you’ve gone fucking insane and need to rethink what just happened. The woman you love fears you and doesn’t want anything to do with you. Do you have any idea what it takes to stand up to a person like you?”
“Person like me? I’m her fucking husband! She should obey and respect me!”
“You should be fucking thankful you had a woman like her Noah! Whatever happened to be calm or did that just fly out the fucking window?” Nick said crossing his arms
“I tried that Nick, but it seems like my wife forgot that I’m the only one in the relationship who is supposed to have a set of fucking balls!”
“Dude I may be your henchman but I’m also your best friend and I’m telling you this because I care about you. What you did in there just pushed her even further away. You are going to push her into the wrong fucking arms. She is to the point where the only way you’re going to get her back now is if you force her.”
I looked up at Nick and smiled at him. It’s almost like he read my mind.
“Force?” I said to myself
Feeling a sensation of happiness l and pure heat come over me, I gave myself a friendly and encouraging reminder.
I’m the strongest man in fucking California right now. Why didn’t I think of this before? I’ve got all the money, power, and men to control a fucking army. What is stopping me from bringing my wife home?
“No. NO. Noah don’t you fucking dare.” Nick said glaring at me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Call up Davis and tell him to meet us at the hotel. Ruby is coming home.” I said flicking my cigarette.
“I really gotta watch my fucking words from now on.”
We made our way back to the hotel with Davis and Matt waiting. The only thing I could think about was how my wife was gonna be begging for me to let her come home after all of this. She'll be at my feet, asking for my forgiveness. Of course, I'll have to play hard to get but the least I can do is give in a little.
“You got the blueprints of the building Davis?”
“No, but you’re not gonna need them. This building only has two exits and get this, Sapphire is 1 of 4 other tenants. The damn place is so old you could pull apart the bricks piece by piece.”
“That's it?”
“Yup”
“So what’s the plan here boss?” Matt asked
I took a deep breath and contemplated on if this was a good idea. As much as I hate causing her so much discomfort, this is my only option. I’ll change my ways but first, she needs to come back home to me. She doesn’t understand how much I truly need her, and if she could just stop being stubborn and open her fucking eyes she would see that.
If she won’t come home willing then I’m gonna show her how scary the world is without me there to protect her.
“In two days you guys are going to pay Y/N a visit.”
“What kind of visit?” Nick asked
“You’ll see.”
Nick got up and walked away in disgust. I don't know what his problem is lately but he's turning soft on me. I'm gonna need him to toughen up a bit if he wants to stick with this family.
“Davis go fucking talk to him. I don't have time to give the princess treatment right now.”
Davis grunted and went outside to catch up with Nick. I don't have time for his emotional bullshit. Right now I need to get my Ruby back home and make sure she stays there. Permanently
Nick's POV
“He doesn't fucking deserve her goddamit!”
I yelled throwing a trash can and kicking the remnants that fell. God if only he fucking knew. Does he not understand? He had a good woman next to him and he gave it up for all this bullshit. I lit a cigarette and tried to calm my nerves while Davis came out and asked me if I was okay.
“I'm fine dude I just need a minute.”
“Well, Noah told me to tell you to toughen up.
I laughed at what Davis said, it's so obvious that Noah is wrapped in his world and doesn't have time to be gentle in nurturing anyone. How is that man going to take care of a baby? Y/N was smart to run.
“He doesn't deserve her Davis. You know it and I know it.”
“It's not my business Nick. I work for the man.”
“This can't be happening,” I said dragging my fingers through my hair
“I do know one thing though, if you keep running your mouth and don't control that serpent that's in your pants, He's gonna make me cut it off and force you to watch..”
I couldn't help but scoff at him.
“You know don’t you?” I asked
“Seriously? Are you trying to get me killed too? If I admit what I know then we’re both in deep shit. I don’t like the way he treats her either but overstepping boundaries with him is not something I have the balls to do. I don’t think you realize you dug your own grave, Nick.”
I looked up at the sky for answers but as always received nothing. Did I make a mistake? What am I gonna do when he finds out and will I be able to handle him?
“I don’t know if I can pretend anymore.”
“Look dude, fake it till you make it. Fuck some other girl or smoke some weed. I don't care, just figure it out. Also, don't make me a fucking accomplice to whatever Lifetime movie bullshit you got going on. Got it?”
I flicked my cigarette and went back inside. I’m gonna have to keep this bullshit cover-up for a little while longer, and even though it kills me, I’m willing to do it.
I’m willing to do anything for her.
Noah and Matt were talking but stood abruptly and stared at me when I walked into the room. I’ll play my card right and keep the poker face that I’m so good at having on.
“I'm ready for whatever you need me for Boss.”
Noah shot me a smirk and waved me over. Hearing them talk over the plan made my gut turn, but having to agree with it was even worse.
Poison on my fucking tongue
Two days later
Y/N’s POV
I’m still feeling shaken up about what happened. I couldn't focus at work and Sapphire began to notice I was dwelling on how things needed between Noah and me. I’ve never seen him get so angry at me, now of course we had our fights but what I witnessed was what I can only consider as maximum rage. I used to think he would never lay his hands on me but him flipping that table the way he did now has me second-guessing. Six months pregnant and he almost put me in harm's way.
“You’re fucking mine!”
“I'm not his fucking wife, I'm his goddamn property,” I said to myself shaking my head. Why the hell did I ever agree to this?
The moonlight shined down on me after another shitty night at the bar. I waved goodbye to my boss and made the drive home. Still feeling on edge I got to the apartment and was met once again with silence. I began to get nervous as I called out for Sapphire, I heard nothing until I went towards her room and could hear her shower running. Having a wave of relief come over me, I went into my room and tried to wind down for the night. Sitting down on the bed trying to massage my swollen feet, I realized skipping out on a shared probably wasn’t in my best interest. I smelled like sweat and unwanted married men's hormones crawling all over me. I let out a huge sigh and made my way to the bathroom when I got a text.
It was from Sapphire
Sapphire
Hey, I met this really cute guy, so I'm gonna chill at his place 2night. Wish me luck ;)
Me
Oh so is that why you're in the shower? Lmfao gurll you do you. Just careful
I smiled and just shook my head at my bestie's promiscuous ways. I figured I should offer her a ride to this guy's house because I don't want her walking and it also gives me an excuse to go get Chinese food. As I made my way to her bedroom door, I received another text.
Sapphire
The shower? Girl I wish, my boss is making me close 2night so I still have another two hours left.
What…
Feeling my heart drop into my fucking stomach, I read over her message about 10 times. I frantically texted her back telling her that someone was in our apartment and what I should do.
Just like in a horror movie with an awful plot. The lights cut out in the fucking apartment, I wanted to scream but was too scared to do so. I slowly began to move away from her door and tried my hardest to make my way back to my bedroom to call the police. I began to back up, trying to not make myself noticeable to whoever was in her room. I could hear the shower water cut off, it was almost like the intruder was listening for my footsteps. I wasn't too far from my room when I heard frantic running in Sapphires. Whoever was in there heard me and was now making it their mission to get me. As my fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, I swiftly turned around to flee, only to be met by a tall figure who was as tough as concrete. Being shoved to the ground I began screaming and crying for them not to hurt me.
“Please, I'm pregnant! Don't hurt me I'm begging you!”
I could hear the men laughing as I struggled to back away from them. Not realizing my surroundings I ended up being backed into the wall.
“MY HUSBAND IS NOAH SEBASTIAN DAVIS, IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME HE’LL FUCKING KILL ALL OF YOU!”
Even in pitch-black darkness, I could tell that one of the men was only a couple of inches away from my face. I could feel and smell his hot breath in which I almost began to vomit. He put his hand on my stomach and leaned in to whisper in my ear
“Oh, babydoll.”
Those words cut through me like a knife
“I need you to do me a favor okay?”
I could feel something cold and sharp press against my neck and slid down to expose the cleavage under my shirt
“You tell Noah I said Hello, and if he ever lets you go again, I'm just gonna have to keep you.”
They kissed my forehead which caused me to break out into a cold sweat. God his lips felt dirty and unpure.
“Let's go boys!”
I heard what sounded like 4-5 men walk away from me and go towards my front door. My theory was confirmed when the hallway light shined in illuminating 5 men.
Before closing it, the one masked man gave me the “hush” sign and a creepy smile.
I lay there on the dirty hard wooden floor sobbing and falling apart. Making myself have enough courage and energy to get up and grab the phone. I dialed frantically and prayed he would pick up.
“Ruby?”
“Noah? Oh, thank God. Please listen to me, you have to come get me.
“Ruby, what happened?
“These. These m-men broke into my apartment and shoved me down for the g-ground.”
“Ruby slow down I can't understand you.”
I was shaking uncontrollably but I needed to pull myself together. I took a deep breath brought the phone back up to my ear and explained what happened.
“Noah I think there's a Rival group because they told me to tell you, that they're watching and if you let me go again they're gonna kidnap me. Noah Im so fucking scared please come get me!”
I fell back into hysterics and just wanted my husband. He's a fucking psycho but at least no one messed with me when I was with him.
“Are you and the baby okay?”
“Yes yes, Theo and I are fine. They just shoved me, I was able to catch myself so it wasn't so hard. Just please come get us.”
I heard nothing but silence on the phone. What the fcuk did he hang up on me? God if I can’t rely on him anymore then please protect me and my baby.
“Noah?”
“Do you finally get it, Ruby?”
“What?”
“I said do you finally get it?”
“Baby please stop, just come get me. Please!”
God, why is he making me beg?
“I can't protect you if you run away and try to be “miss independent”. Your life was always good here. If I come and get you, you better not pull this stunt ever again. There will be security in you 24/7 got it?”
I wanted to protest but the sound of phantom footsteps kept psyching me out. I didn't care anymore I just wanted to go home.
“Okay, okay, baby I will never do this again I swear, just please come get us. Noah, I can't do this on my own.”
Noah let out a huge sigh and told me he would be in about 10 minutes. I hurried and gathered my things and waited. Every minute felt like centuries, praying that those monsters wouldn't come back. I got a text from Noah saying he was here and sending Nick up to help me to the car. Oh, why couldn't it have been someone else? I waited for what seemed like forever and started to feel a nervous feeling in the bottom of my gut. I haven't seen Nick in so long, I almost forgot what he looked like. Hearing a pounding on my door, I ran over, took a deep breath, and opened it. I was met with long black hair, beautiful green eyes, and a warm smile that was always so welcoming.
“Nick”
“Y/N”
I don't know what it was but something about his smile made me collapse into his arms and start sobbing. His tight hold on me already made me feel so safe that the thought of letting go hurt.
“I got you, Angel.”
My legs could no longer hold me up and we slid down to the floor together.
“Oh, Nick. Please don't let me go.” I said sobbing into his chest
“You know I have to Angel, he's down there waiting for us.“
Nick caressed my face and made me look at him.
“Be my strong girl for me one more time, okay?
“Okay.”
Nick helped me up and walked me down to the limo. Jolly was waiting for me outside the vehicle and opened the door for me when I closed enough. I got in and could feel the tension in the air once again. Noah sat across from me with an evil look on his face. I'm not sure what I was expecting but this wasn't it. We began to drive and were only 10 minutes away from the house. I couldn't wait to shower and sleep in my bed again. I knew I wouldn't be let off so easily with this, I looked away from the window and saw that Noah was glaring at me while Nick was still facing the other way. I broke the silence and spoke which I should have known was a mistake.
“Thank you.”
Noah leaned forward and said, in a low deep growl.
“Get on your knees”
“Pardon?”
Nick snapped out of his trance and tried to grasp the situation.
“Noah she's six months pregnant, don't do this right now,” Nick begged
“Stay the fuck out of this Nick.” Noah snapped
“I said on your knees, Ruby”
I did as I was told, and got on the limo floor gently going down in my knees.
Noah yanked my chin upward forcing me to look him in the eyes.
“This is how obedient you are going to be from now on. Understand?”
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.
“Yes”
“Get the hell up and sit there. We will talk more when we get back to the house.”
I got back up in the seat and wiped my tears. How is it that I trade one evil for another? I can't keep doing this anymore, I started to regret my decision but now it's too late. I looked over at Nick who was having a stare-down with Noah. I wish he would just look at me and not trouble the waters that we got ourselves into.
I need him right now and I don’t know how much longer I will be able to play pretend.
**********************************************
Hey guys, sorry it took so long. This story really had me wondering what I should do with. I hope you all enjoyed. Love you dearly
-Magenta 🌹
Taglist
@reyadawn @bloodylullaby @fadingintothegrey @aubrey-melinoe @supersquirrel1996 @thisbicc @amelia-acero @dreamstyles @ashdreamsalone @iluvmewwwww75 @lma1986 @concreteemo
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Okay this is a rant
Fans project onto the drivers waaaaaay too much. They push their own emotions, personalities, and points of view on whichever driver is their favorite and try to force everything they say and do to fit that. It’s why there is so much Lando and Oscar hate right now. The fans are desperate for those two to be what they want them to be, usually soft uwu boys. And the minute they deviated away from it, especially Lando, everyone labeled them as evil or arrogant. I’m not even a Lando or Oscar fan and I can see that.
Famously all drivers are extremely competitive, willing to do whatever it takes, think theyre the best, and are assholes on the track. You can’t be in f1 without those traits. But so many fans refuse to admit that and the minute it becomes clear that this is the truth and not whatever fantasy they created, they freak. It’s beyond ridiculous. You should not be a fan of f1 if you can’t handle this. Cause yes, the drivers will say rude things, they will be arrogant about their skills, they will be bitchy about team orders, they will get pissy when they lose, they will usually not get along with their teammate, they will snipe at each other in the press, they will push too hard and hit each other on track and then claim it wasn’t their fault. That’s what happens. That’s fucking f1.
I’ve watched this sport get slowly santitized as the years go on, as new fans come in and decide the things they don’t like must be changed. It’s ridiculous. So now all teammates have to be best friends. So now team orders are evil. So now a driver being upset they didn’t win in ungrateful. So now a team is heartless for cutting an underperforming driver loose. So now all the drivers must be perfectly behaved little princes who are always happy, and grateful, and kind. I cannot imagine how frustrating and demeaning that is for them. I would rip out my own hair if people treated me like that. But no, if a driver expressed frustration with this I can almost guarantee fans would call them spoiled or ungrateful.
And on top of that all they have to contain, you have cameras shoved in their faces wherever they go. Any video you find of a driver, and their are at least five cameras not even a foot away from them. And people scream in their face, and grab them, and expect them to give them time because theyre a fan. Every movement is scrutinized, their facial expression and body language are over analyzed, people make assumptions about their relationships and lives, and they can’t say boo about it. It’s been like this to a smaller extent for years of course but it’s just exploded since honestly DTS. If I had 30 people shoving merch at me screaming my name, I signed it, and then some asshole on the internet made a whole video about how I wasn’t pleasant enough when I was getting mobbed and treated like a commodity I would explode.
I guess to finish off this super long take, I just want to say that f1 drivers will never be what you want them to be. So either fix your expectations and let them be human or stop fucking watching.
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Send us your unpopular F1 opinions!
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jhutchh19992 · 2 days
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Comfort in the Chaos
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Plot: you are claptons best friend since… well forever. you also had feelings for him since forever. but he had a girlfriend. now hes broken up with her and you comfort him, leading to an unexpected turn.
tags: no smut, fluff, comfort, slight angst, highschool, best friends to lovers
Clapton Davis. The king of not giving a damn. The guy who made skipping homework and blowing off tests look effortless. But despite all that, he was my best friend. The truth, though? I’d been in love with him for a while, and I always had this feeling he felt the same. Neither of us had ever said anything. Maybe we were afraid of ruining what we had, or maybe we were waiting for the right moment.
Today, though, something felt different.
I was sitting on my bed, scrolling through my phone, when I got a text from Clapton. It was one of those messages that sent my heart racing.
Clapton: "She broke up with me."
I stared at the screen, my heart both sinking and soaring. Fiona—his girlfriend—was out of the picture. For months, I had been trying to hide my jealousy whenever he talked about her, pretending I was happy for them. Now, I wasn’t sure how to feel.
Me: "I’m sorry. Do you want to come over?"
A few minutes later, him and his skateboard pulled up outside my house. I opened the door before he even knocked, and there he was, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, his face clouded with a mixture of frustration and sadness.
“Hey,” he mumbled, stepping inside.
“Hey,” I replied, offering him a weak smile. “Come on, let’s sit outside.”
We headed to the backyard, the sun setting in soft orange hues. I grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge and passed one to him as we settled onto the porch steps. For a few moments, we just sat in silence, letting the cool breeze wash over us.
“She said I was holding her back,” Clapton said after a while, his voice low. He stared ahead, not meeting my eyes. “Like I wasn’t enough.”
I frowned, anger bubbling up inside me. “That’s not true. She didn’t get you. She never did.”
He glanced over at me, his brow furrowed. “Yeah? What makes you say that?”
“Because I know you,” I said softly. “You’re not someone who needs to fit into anyone’s mold. You’re Clapton. And that’s more than enough.”
He didn’t say anything at first, but I could see the way his jaw tightened, like he was trying to hold back something. “It’s just—” he started, then stopped, running a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t get why I even cared so much. Fiona…she wasn’t it.”
My heart skipped a beat. This was the first time he had ever hinted that maybe he hadn’t been as into her as I’d thought. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I was afraid to push too hard.
Instead, I just said, “Maybe you were looking for something else.”
His eyes met mine, and for a second, something passed between us. Something that had always been there, just under the surface, waiting for one of us to acknowledge it.
“I think you’re right,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
We sat in silence again, but this time it wasn’t the comfortable quiet we usually shared. There was a tension in the air, a kind of electricity that made my skin tingle. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I wondered if he could hear it too.
“I don’t get why she didn’t see it,” I finally said, my voice low. “You’re more than just what people see at school, you know? You’re…you’re one of the best people I know.”
Clapton turned to me, his expression softening. “You really think that?”
I swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Yeah. I’ve always thought that.”
He was looking at me now, really looking at me, like he was seeing me for the first time. His eyes flickered to my lips for a brief second, and my breath caught in my throat. Was this finally happening?
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “About us.”
My heart skipped a beat. “About us?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah. I know I haven’t always been the best at showing it, but…there’s something here. Right?”
There it was. The thing we’d been dancing around for so long, finally out in the open. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to jump but terrified at the same time.
“I think so too,” I admitted, my voice shaky. “I’ve felt it for a while.”
Clapton’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I thought it was just me,” he said, letting out a quiet laugh. “I guess I was wrong.”
He shifted closer, his knee brushing against mine, and suddenly the space between us felt too small. My heart was racing, my hands trembling, and all I could think about was how much I wanted him to kiss me.
“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely audible, his eyes searching mine for permission.
I nodded, unable to find the words. My breath hitched as he leaned in slowly, closing the distance between us. His lips were soft and warm against mine, the kiss gentle but full of the things we had left unsaid for so long.
For a moment, time seemed to stop. It was just me and Clapton, sitting on my porch under the fading sunlight, finally crossing that invisible line we’d been toeing for years. And it felt right. More than right—it felt like this was exactly where we were supposed to be.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against mine, and we stayed like that for a few seconds, both of us catching our breath.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, his voice soft.
“Me too,” I whispered back.
We didn’t need to say anything else. There were no more questions, no more doubts. We had crossed the line, and there was no going back—but that was okay. Because whatever was ahead of us, we’d face it together.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in soft twilight as we sat there, fingers intertwined, quietly laughing at how long it had taken us to figure it out. And for the first time, everything felt perfectly, undeniably right.
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exopelagic · 7 months
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sudden realisation that the thing holding my art back is that I never had an anime phase
#going to find a time machine and get my younger self into death note or smth#I have been driving myself insane for the past few years bc I wanna draw characters but all I know how to do is portraits#I’m trying to figure out how I could recreate smth similar now and tragically I think it does just come down to draw more :/#however! I am also going to try using brushes which will be bad for sketchiness and better for lineart bc I might need to force myself here#I just gotta simplify things down to basic shapes how hard can it be#[has been thinking this exact thing for years and it’s not worked]#I am getting better every time I do stuff I’m just not satisfied bc art is frustrating when you know what you want but can’t get there#god it’s 2am I should not be awake rn but I could draw again tonight so I was taking advantage#endlessly frustrated by hair. why is it so awkward. I need to understand hair better how do I do this#i have a feeling it’s bc I’ve not figured out how to apply the shit I figured out abt volume yet#I’m also getting impatient bc I’ve been trying to do a study thing for some art styles but I decided I wanted to draw ocs instead of that#when I hadn’t gotten to the actually important bit which was. making smth new. but I can still do that#and I ended up doing a different style anyway (someone pls stop me rounding everything make me use high opacity square brush for my health)#the Other problem is I never wanna switch brushes. like I want to use one brush for whole drawing bc the extra clicks annoy me#I wonder if there’s a shortcut to swap brushes#anyway I’m gonna stop complaining bc drawing is fun but god I wish I’d drawn some more pokey mans when I was a teenager yknow#ideally younger. would rlly like to not have to actually think to figure this out rn#I’m probably overthinking stuff anyway honestly and I KNOW I’ll get it if I practice enough but goddamn it is hard to practice#especially when my me insists on making the bad things look better by making it more realistic#instead of figuring out why the shapes aren’t working#OKAY IM DONE WITH THIS NOW. GONNA TRY NEW ART THINGS LATER STOP TALKING <3#luke.txt
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raeathnos · 7 months
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#my nerves are so bad my parents are not helping holy shit#my dad’s starting like a million tasks in the past half hour and I’m over here like ‘we need to leave soon pls stop????’#and my mom is using me as her fucking therapist as always#she is retired and owns a home and is financially stable#but she’s telling me I can’t understand how stressed she is over having the house clean (it is)#and that she’s more stressed than I am about my job interview#which like#I need to make more money I can’t afford anything#but pls tell me how I have nothing to stress about#I wanna scream#I am trying to focus on interview questions in my head and I think I’ve got them down#this is my first interview in years#it’s the first legit one I’ve gotten since I started job hunting 3 months ago#the first 3 interviews were bogus- 1st ghosted me and 2nd+3rd weren’t legit and were trafficking schemes I think#‘don’t apply on indeed send your application to this address’#which I thought was just showing that you knew how to read and follow instructions maybe#nope! the one wanted to do an interview in a motel room and told me to come alone (ha not falling for that)#and the other gave me address that was an abandoned building with broken windows and all and also wanted me to come alone#like#it’s been so frustrating and the fact that they can’t understand that because ‘but you have a job!’#yeah and they treat me like crap and the pay is crap and they’re constantly trying to ignore my work accommodation#i need something that pays more and is full time and has benefits#and they literally don’t fucking get it#okay vent over#did not need that pent up during the interview#wish me luck guys ahhhhhhhhhhhh
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lymtw · 2 months
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The frustration that Satoru feels when he completely stops seeing you as just one of his best friends.
You’re so pretty, modeling the dress you’ll be wearing on your date with some guy who probably dims in comparison to you. Suguru says you should try the outfit without the cardigan, so you take it off for a second and do a little 360 for the trio. Shoko gasps when she sees the lacy details that were hidden by the coat and Suguru claps in validation. “You’re so gonna get some.”
Satoru just watches, cheek resting in his fist as he half listens to the little debate between Shoko and Suguru. It’s all a blur as he focuses on the one glowing in front of him.
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“Satoru?” You wave your hand in front of him.
“Hm?” He blinks up at you, acting like he wasn't zoned out while staring.
“Tie-breaker. Coat or no coat?”
He had heard what Suguru said when you took the cardigan off. 'You’re so gonna get some.'
He doesn’t want that.
“You should stay layered. You might get cold later.”
Suguru groans in disapproval, falling back into the couch cushion, while Shoko grins, smugly, at her small victory.
“Coat it is.” You smile, running back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.
“You like her, huh?” Suguru asks as soon as you’re out of sight, a squint of betrayal in his eyes.
“Pfft, nah. What makes you think that?” Satoru defends.
“She asked for our opinion on the dress and you went silent," Shoko says, throwing a knowing smirk at Satoru.
“You don’t want her to get laid or something? Why’d you vote for the granny cardigan?” Suguru adds, arms crossed over his chest.
“I want to see you take care of her when she’s sick. I did it last time, and she was unbearable. Also,” he turns to answer Shoko’s remark, “what can I say? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“A lot of her on your mind.” Suguru nods over at you.
Satoru turns, a lucent gleam in his eyes when he sees you.
“Alright, guys. I’ll be back before-“
“Don’t rush!” Shoko says, giggling at the dopey look on Satoru’s face.
There’s a smirk tugging on Suguru’s lips. “Have fun.”
“Call if you need me to pick you up," Satoru blurts, sitting up straight on the lounge chair he was seated in.
Shoko gasps and Suguru’s eyes go wide for a second.
“Uh... sure. Will do. Love you guys, bye!” You walk past your friends, opening the front door and shutting it behind you.
Your perfume had some effect on Satoru because for some reason his heart was racing and he was unable to calm it down.
“What?” Satoru asks when he notices the way his friends look at him. “I’m the only one with a car here.”
“Uh-huh, let’s put it that way," Shoko says, sharing a menacing look with Suguru.
You did end up having to call Satoru. Your date was the most annoying, insufferable person you had ever met and you weren't going to pretend like you were enjoying your time with him for the rest of the night. How can someone be so different the moment you’re alone together? You couldn’t stand him, so you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom halfway through your meal.
You called Satoru, hoping he wasn't kidding about calling him if you needed a ride home.
“Hey, uh, I know this is really inconsiderate of me, but can you come pick me up from the restaurant? If you can’t it’s totally fine. I’ll stay.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm fine. It turns out I can’t stand this guy.” You chuckle, your hand reaching for the sensor beneath the water faucet, the cool water running through your fingers. "He's gross and just... I don't know."
“Did he do anything to you? Are you okay? ‘Cause, you know, I can kick his ass.”
“You already asked me that, 'toru. I’m okay. He’s just…” you pause, a sigh filling in the silence, “...different from what I remember. I don’t know this guy.”
Satoru is already sitting in his car. The moment you asked him to pick you up, he grabbed his keys and headed for the car.
“Give me ten minutes.”
“It takes twenty to get here.”
“Too bad. I’m running a few red lights. Sit tight.”
“Sa-”
The call ends and you’re left staring at the contact photo you have for him. You turn your screen off and stare into the mirror. You don’t know if you should stay in the bathroom until Satoru gets there or if you should go back out to the man waiting for you.
“So, Satoru likes her, huh?” Shoko says, leaning back in the lounge chair Satoru sat in before.
“Who would have guessed? We’ve all been friends for years and he’s never looked at her like that.”
“We should invest in some noise cancelling headphones. Who knows what could happen after tonight?”
Suguru furrows his eyebrows in confusion, so Shoko grins and demonstrates. She rocks back and forth in the old lounge chair, the chair creaking and squealing.
“Oh.” Suguru’s face further scrunches. He didn't need the image of his friends doing that together, in his mind.
Your phone vibrates on the sink, and Satoru’s name appears on the screen when you flip it. You quickly answer the call.
“Hey, i’m outside.”
“How do I walk out of here without seeming like a bitch? I didn’t think this through.”
“First, walk out the restaurant doors. Then, get in my car. It’s pretty simple, honestly.”
“We haven’t paid the bill.”
“Fuck it. Let him pay.”
“That’s just wrong. Alright, i’ll be out in a bit. Bye.”
“Bye.”
You sum up all the courage you have and walk out of the bathroom. Once you reach the table, you pull out some cash you have just laying around in your purse, like forty-something bucks, and set it down in the middle of the table.
“Hopefully that’s enough to cover half of it.”
“Where are you going?” Your date asks.
“To keep it polite, I have to go. Have a good rest of your night.”
You walked out of the restaurant, immediately spotting Satoru’s blue Camaro.
The second you get in, you make yourself comfortable, removing your heels and taking down your hair from its updo.
“What’s wrong?” Satoru asks, when you don’t say anything.
“It’s fine. This guy just wasn’t the one.”
Satoru’s chest feels tight now that you’re in the car. The smell of your perfume has returned and you’re glowing in the moonlight. It makes him think of the effort you put into looking the way you do, and how you ended up having to hide in the bathroom.
“Do you wanna go home?”
You’re looking in the sun visor mirror, bobby pins in your mouth as you fix your hair so that it’s not in your face once Satoru starts driving.
“Mm… whatever you want to do,” you say, muffled by the pieces of metal pressing into your lips.
It wouldn’t be whatever he wants to do, though. All he wants to do is kiss you, right now. Do something to soothe the ache you must be feeling.
“Why are you acting like this?” He asks, watching you as you place another pin in your hair.
You laugh through your nose, a bobby pin still between your lips. You put it in your hair before answering.
“Like what?” You look at him while you put your seatbelt on.
“Like this doesn't bother you. You don't have to put up a front, you know? I'm not gonna laugh at you."
The metal clicks, and you fold the sun visor back up. “Because it didn’t bother me. I’m not gonna settle for someone I hate being around."
Part of Satoru wanted this to go well for you. He wanted to see a brilliant smile on your face when you got home. So, the fact that it didn’t end up that way strangely caused some heartache for him.
“Don’t look so down.” You give him a kind smile and pinch his cheek. “I’m okay. Really.”
He tries to distract himself from the warmth that seeps into his cheeks from your quick gesture. “Well, I don’t want to go home. Is that okay, with you?”
“What’s up with you?” You ask, bringing one of your legs up and folding it comfortably on the seat.
“Nothing.”
You stare at him until he breaks out his contagious smile and laugh.
“Really, nothing. I just want to spend some time out tonight. Shoko and Suguru want to stay home and be couch potatoes."
You see your date walking out of the restaurant, phone against his ear. He doesn’t look too defeated, but you don’t want him to see you with Satoru and make any bold assumptions.
“Okay, that’s totally fine, but can we go?” Your leg goes back down, meeting the floor mat and you turn to face the window.
Satoru analyzes your behavior and your expression. Your arms are crossed, you refuse to look in his direction again. It’s weird compared to how you were acting two seconds ago.
“What?” Satoru turns to look at whatever made you shrink, and as soon as he sees him he rolls his window up. “Really?” His eyes are lidded in disappointment. It’s not in you as a person, but in your lack of respect for yourself, choosing someone so far below your league.
“He was nice when I first met him.”
Satoru puts the gear in reverse, backing out of the parking spot. “He looks stupid and on top of that he acts like it, too? God.”
“I know, I know.” You lean against the car door and stare out the window.
“What made you think you deserved him? Honestly, I can’t wrap my head around how low this is for someone like you.”
“I don’t know.”
Your responses to Satoru's interrogation kept getting shorter and shorter and he realized he was beating a horse that was already down.
“You know I care," he mumbles, breaking the heavy silence. “I don’t mean to tell you who to date and who you should be with.”
“I hate this conversation. You’re not my dad, Satoru. It’s fine.” You sit up, back against the seat and face forward. “Where are we, anyway?”
“I just followed a random road to see where it would lead. I don’t wanna go home, but I also don’t want to know where I am.”
“So, we’re lost.” You laugh.
“Hey, as long as we have phones with enough battery, we’re not really lost.”
“Right.” You grin, continuing to watch the road. You look over the steering wheel to see how much gas the car has. It’s two marks below the bold F.
“Can you tell me something?”
You turn to Satoru, giving him your full attention. He’s been more serious than you know him to be since you left the house.
“What’s up?”
“I’m not trying to rehash this father-like conversation, but as one of your best friends… what were you thinking when you accepted a date with this guy?” He glances over at you for a second. “What went through your mind when you said 'yes' to a date with him?”
“Potential love, dates, butterflies. All the stuff that goes into getting to know someone as more than an acquaintance or friend.” You fidget with the extra hair tie on your wrist.
“You want all of that?” He asks, glimpsing at you again.
You nod, silently.
“You’re pretty enough to fuck around with whoever you want, you know? I know some people who wanna do some pretty... vulgar things with you."
Your eyes go wide at how far south the conversation went. You cracked the second you looked at Satoru though. He looked somewhat proud to be friends with someone who could get some anytime.
“That’s… good to know, I guess.” Your mind stumbles over the part where he called you pretty enough.
“You’re not interested in that, though, are you?”
You wince, jokingly. “It’s just not my cup of tea. I want something more long-term.”
Satoru grins, almost like he wants to talk about himself.
“That’s not your cup of tea, is it?” You reciprocate the grin.
“No, no. Believe it or not, the last relationship I was in lasted a whole two months.”
You slapped the car door dramatically. “A whole two months?!”
“Stop it. It’s nothing, really," Satoru jokes, grinning with faux pride.
“Hey, i’m not shaming you. You’re not down with commitment and that’s fine. We're young. There's no need to rush."
“I haven’t found someone I really want to commit to. I'm not stupid enough to ignore the fact that people are really only attracted to my body. They can't stand when I open my mouth, so I figured it’s better to fuck around than to put my heart into something that won’t last without sex.”
Satoru's personality was for people with acquired taste. On the other hand, Satoru's physical appearance was for anyone and everyone. The people who could appreciate all of him would be in for the most amazing ride, because even as his friend, you could confidently say that there is no one like him anywhere in the world. You can only hum in acknowledgement of how romantically lonely he must feel.
“What?” You ask when the car stops. Satoru puts the car in park before turning it off. “We’re not out of gas, so what’s the problem?”
He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face you, one leg bent on the seat. He’s met with a breathtaking sight. You look stunning in that navy blue dress, and that shade smeared over your lips was calling his name. He can see part of your thigh from where your dress rides up.
“Can I talk to you about something?” The tension behind the question was enough to make your ears go red.
“Of course you can. You’re scaring me, but go on.”
He smiles, trying to lighten up the mood. He knows better than to just dump information like this on you so heavily, but he can't go home tonight without telling you how he feels. He already doesn’t expect much to come of telling you this, but it's been eating him alive and he can't keep it in anymore.
“You've been on my mind a lot, lately." He sees your slightly furrowed eyebrows. They match the unintentional pout on your lips. You’re confused and for some reason you feel nervous, like your heart might escape your ribcage.
“What does that mean?” You ask, wanting a clearer understanding. He could be worried about you in a totally platonic way. He could be wondering about what you've been up to lately. You're having trouble assuming there's romantic notes to his statement after the brief discussion you just had.
“It's exactly as it sounds. I've been thinking about you." He's not smiling, he's not laughing yet this still sounds like a joke that he’s running to mess with you.
“You done with your jokes? We could both be home right about now," you say, not intending for your words to come out as sharp as they did. His hand is suddenly cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a speck of glitter from it.
“You say goodnight to me in the sweetest way—like you won't see me in the morning. And the soft smile you give me before you shut the door... it lingers in my mind. I dream of it from time to time."
You're trying so hard not to lean into his touch and nuzzle your cheek into his palm, but you make no effort to push his hand away. “What are you talking about, Satoru? Don't you think you're reading into it a little too much? I do that for all three of you. Ask Shoko and Suguru.”
His hand has been on your cheek for a while now, and he’s still looking at you like he has things to get off his chest. “I know you don't say it the same way to them as you do to me." He stops, a little sigh leaving him. He’s probably making you dizzy with all of this news, based on the look on your face. He retracts his hand and rests it on his thigh. You look stunned, so he cuts to the chase. “To be even more clear, I don’t see you as a friend. It doesn’t seem right to see you that way when I can picture us doing more. Being more."
“Doing more?” You repeat, cheeks growing warm.
“Holding hands, kissing, being alone together—more.”
The heavy silence returns, both of you nervously avoiding eye contact.
“I..." you huff. "I need some air.” You unbuckle yourself before exiting the car. Your scent remains in the car even after the door shuts behind you, leaving Satoru to wonder if things are screwed with you.
Your back is against the door, your hands interlocked in front of your eyes, shielding you from the gentle moonlight. You groan, irritated by the conflicted thoughts that came with Satoru's revelation.
It’s not long before Satoru comes out and joins you, leaning on the side of his car. It's cold and he doesn't want you to get sick again. His heart could barely handle your involuntarily weak display the first time.
“I didn’t stress you out, did I?” He asks, turning his head to look at you. You shake your head, your hands still covering your eyes. “There’s really no part of you that can envision an us between me and you?”
You chuckle, a sound that makes his heart pang. “It’s funny... you know, a long time ago it was all I dreamed about.”
Now this was baffling news to Satoru. How long ago was a long time ago? A couple months ago? Last year? Three years ago? And why didn’t you say anything?
“I considered you a pursuit that was out of reach. You had—have— all these girls just throwing themselves at you, and I couldn’t be one of them, so I befriended you instead.”
“How long ago was a long time ago?” He asks, nervous to hear the answer.
“Like last year in March. It was during your phase where you would never come home.”
He feels like an asshole. Especially since not too much later, he developed similar feelings for you that he endlessly denied.
“You liked the me you never got to see?”
You both chuckled at the rhyme of his words, your broken senses of humor adding some lightheartedness to the conversation.
“I guess you not coming home was more calming because I didn't have to be nervous to see you.”
You crossed your arms. The cardigan protected you, but not enough. The cold wind was starting to nip at your cheeks. Satoru notices and moves closer to you.
“Let’s go back inside, yeah?”
You didn’t want to. You were nervous being “stranded” with Satoru already, but minimizing the space between you was even more nerve-wracking. He was your greatest temptation before, and you could easily create those labyrinths that guide him into your mind again if you got close enough.
“I’ll be fine," you say, looking straight ahead at the field of weeds in front of you.
“You’re gonna catch a cold. Get in the car," Satoru prompts. He thought back to the tired look on your face as you laid in bed sick, waiting for him to bring you warm soup.
“No," you insisted, turning away from him.
He inched closer, not wanting to look at your back. “Please, get in the car." He thought of the gracious look on your sick face when he brought you another blanket to keep you warm.
“I said no, Satoru. I don't want to get in the car with you."
You were being stubborn as hell, and something about it made Satoru’s blood boil to the point where he did whatever his mind told him to do. You were suddenly pinned to the car, your hands on Satoru’s chest to keep some distance. He blocked every gust of wind that threatened to bite at your skin, and enveloped you in his warmth. You don’t know how, but in this freezing temperature, Satoru’s hands felt like sunlight on your cheeks. His face was centimeters away from yours, his bright eyes searching for a loophole in your feelings for him. Your eyes spoke with an infinite amount of possibility, and some of it didn't make sense, so he kissed you in hopes of translating what you were trying to say.
You didn’t have any fight left in you. Not when you felt so secure in this close proximity. Now, all you wanted was to be in the car with him, alone.
The kiss was released with light breaths from both of you, a look of feeling complete on Satoru’s face. “Will you get in the damn car,” he whispers, his arms caging you against the car.
“Say please," you say in the same intimate volume as him.
“Please," he complies, allowing his eyes to flit between your eyes and your lips.
“Pretty please?" you push.
“Pretty please," he says, the corners of his lips twitching.
“How about pretty please with a cherry on top?”
“Get in the car," he says through a laugh.
You chuckle, shoving him lightly before opening the door and entering the car. Satoru gets in the drivers seat and suddenly it all feels strange. Strange, but in the best way.
The tension from before returns. There's no wind blowing to fill in the silence when you both stop talking.
“Do you ever think of me when you're alone?” It was a weird question to be asked by him, especially since you had already told him that your feelings for him were left behind.
“Never," you reply, a softness in your tone that held memories of when all you thought about was Satoru.
He's somewhat disappointed, seeing as though there's a chance he might be too late.
“Do you think that will change after tonight?” He seems to be getting closer, or at least his hands are. Your skin is irresistible and he wants to feel how soft you are. He's been craving you for so long, and you're right there.
“There’s no way to tell.” You can see how slowly his hand is traveling. A minute ago it was on his lap, now it’s on the armrest between your seats. You can’t wait any longer. The suspense might make you jump out of the car again, so you grab his hand and put it on your thigh, where your dress rides up.
“I’ll throw the question back to you. Do you think of me when you're alone?” You ask him now because he won’t give you some bullshit response at a time like this, when he’s getting everything he’s wanted for who knows how long.
“All the time,” he responds so quickly. “When I wake up, before I go to sleep, in the shower, while I brush my teeth.” There’s this foolish look on his face, like he would give anything to never lose the ability to have you on his mind all the time. "You're in there, organizing the shrine I made for you," he admits, with a grin. His thumb presses into your thigh, massaging the plush skin. It makes you nervous as hell, but you like it.
“Have you told Suguru and Shoko?”
He chuckles, remembering the conversation he had with them after you left. “I’m positive they know."
Once again, you're left staring at each other in silence, drowning in the tension you’ve created within yourselves. Satoru has yet to move his hand away from your thigh, not letting up even when he feels goosebumps spread on your skin. He tests the boundaries you have set up, finding no resistance from you when his hand reaches further up your dress.
“You’re not gonna tell me to stop?” He asks as his fingers are met with lace, a texture that makes his heart thud rapidly in his chest.
You shake your head, leaning back in the seat. His fingers ghost over the front of your panties, finding a satin bow just below the elastic band.
“Were you going to let that guy touch you? Is that why you wore these?” He hasn’t even seen them, and yet he can tell they’re the cutest thing ever.
“Maybe," you mumble, looking away in slight embarrassment.
“Can I see them?” He asks.
You nod, allowing him to slowly pull up your dress. Your heart drops when you hear him gasp.
“God, no way," he says, sounding defeated. His ears slowly turn a bright shade of red as he observes the material covering your intimate area.
“Stop,” you whine, feeling flustered by his reaction and the way he stares.
His hand returns to its previous spot, continuing to play with the part of the elastic that sticks to your hip.
“You wear these types of panties on every date you go on?”
You nod, biting your lip as his fingers move just to feel the fabric. His touch is still ghost-like—light, barely there, but it’s working you up anyway. There’s barely enough friction, yet you can feel your wetness begin to ruin the garment.
He sighs. “You know, no one deserves you.” His tone is smooth and he smiles at you, an angel taking control of his features. “Not even me, but I can make up for the one who missed you tonight.”
He spares his attention to the spot in the middle of your panties, only smiling when a breathy moan involuntarily leaves you.
“God..." you groan in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. "I can’t with myself."
His thumb rubs up and down your clothed slit, applying pressure when he reaches your clit.
“Don’t be shy. Make as much noise as you want,” he says, luring a gasp from you.
You look away again, red-faced, feeling embarrassed beyond belief.
“What?” A low chuckle follows. His hands settle on your thighs as he leans in and tries to look at your flustered face.
“This is weird.” You look out the window, too nervous to look at Satoru.
“How come?”
You giggle. “I can’t stop seeing you as one of my friends. It’s strange to experience something like this with you.”
“I would hope Suguru and Shoko aren’t touching you like this.” His hand splays on your thigh, kneading softly. “Are they?” He asks, after a pause.
“Of course not.”
He seems satisfied with that response because he’s trying to hold back a smile, but the corners of his lips are twitching. His fingers snap the elastic band of your panties against your skin a couple more times.
“Is it too weird to go on?” He asks.
You consider the facts. He already touched you, he confessed his feelings for you before he touched you so you know he wasn't lying about his feelings for you and he doesn’t just want sex. You had those feelings for him before, but claimed to have lost them with time.
Your overwhelming thoughts are enough to put an end to what was going on. You pull down your dress, hiding the evidence of his touch, and sit up straight in the seat. “Maybe we should head home before we do something we might regret later.”
He hums and smiles, not an ounce of disappointment in his features. “No argument from me."
Satoru put his seatbelt on and watched as you did the same before starting the car. There was no need for him to set up the GPS because all he did was drive straight, so all he had to do was drive back the other way.
You didn’t expect the car ride to be so quiet. Maybe he did want things to go further. You couldn’t bear to look back at Satoru, even though you could feel him side eyeing you as he drove. There were a couple times where he turned his head to look at you when you stopped at red lights, but you knew you couldn’t look back until you had something to say. You were overthinking everything that happened until that point. What can you say when you just went through an entire roller coaster of emotions with someone you call a best friend? Someone who has now seen you in a vulnerable position.
“Did you at least eat?” Satoru asks, finally breaking the heavy silence that engulfed the car.
“Uh, yeah. I was able to get through my meal," you respond, glancing at him quickly before turning back to face the window.
He nods in acknowledgement. You see the stop sign at the end of your street, signaling the closeness of home.
Satoru parks the car in the driveway, and you finish removing your shoes. You enter the house, expecting to see Suguru and Shoko up waiting for you guys, but to your surprise, the doors to their bedrooms are shut.
“Goodnight, Satoru," you say. “Thanks again, for picking me up.”
“Yeah, no worries,” he responds. “Goodnight.”
You can’t shake the void left in your gut after your time with Satoru. You sit on your bed for a moment thinking of the intimacy that occurred between you and him. The gentleness of his touch, the lack of judgement from him when you basically told him that you dress your best even for scumbags. Something inside you was begging you to tell him how much you wanted him to sleep in your room—in your bed. And that’s exactly what you aimed for with this rush of adrenaline that surged through you. You rose off the bed quickly, and made haste to reach his bedroom.
You knocked, calling his name once. Once was all it took for him to leap to open the door.
“Can you help me with something?” You asked, hoping he held no ill will towards you and that he wouldn’t deny you.
“Sure. With what?”
You motion for him to follow you to your room, and he does with no further questions, following your bare feet as you lead him to your room.
“I tied the knot for my dress a little too tightly." You let out a quiet chuckle, your nervousness imbued into it.
“Oh, I see," he says, stifling a grin. "Turn around.” His finger circles in the air.
You turn your back to him, facing the mirror on your vanity. You can feel his knuckles grazing your lower back as he takes the time to slowly loosen the knot, the straps that once sat wrapped around your waist dropping loosely.
“There,” he murmurs, still standing behind you, looking at you through the mirror.
“Thank you,” you say so quietly that it’s almost a whisper.
Normally, that is the cue for someone to leave, but there was this branch of electricity connecting him to you. He couldn’t find a reason to step away from you, so instead he stepped closer. His arms encircled your waist, his hands interlocking above your lower abdomen. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies—blood thirsty ones that knew all too well that they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, so long as Satoru was in your room.
He leaned in to kiss your shoulder, an act that brought goosebumps to your skin. "You look really pretty." You give in to the feeling, tilting your head to give him the entire canvas of that side of your neck. He wondered if you would be upset if you saw his kisses on your neck in the morning.
He stops and looks for your approval first because he has arrived centimeters behind the line between friends who are really comfortable with each other and something deeper. You have to let him know that it’s okay to cross this line.
“It’s okay,” you say, squeezing the hands that rest on your lower abdomen. “Don't stop."
That’s the green light he needed in order to move on. He did not hesitate at all in pulling back his arms and undoing the knot that held your dress up. He watched as the smooth velvet cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but those precious lace panties. You felt vulnerable with your bare chest out, but made no attempt to hide yourself.
He was frozen for a second or two, speechless at the sight before him.
“No one deserves you,” he finally says, his arms snaking around your torso. His lips start leaving behind their marks on the other side of your neck. He drags his kisses down your shoulder, biting once, then twice, resulting in a couple giggles from you.
“Close the door, please,” you say, realizing Shoko and Suguru would see what was happening if they opened their doors.
Satoru releases you only to close the door, locking it for safe measures. As soon as he’s back, he’s wrapping his arms around you before pushing both of you towards your bed. He starts stripping his clothes off, until he's left in just his boxers. His eyes never leave yours, a lovestruck smile on his face.
“You will never know how many times I’ve dreamt of this scenario."
“Stop.” You giggle, withstanding the sting of his lips on more than you neck. It’s heat on your chest and on your stomach now, his hands holding your waist so gently. You’ll look like some abstract piece of art by morning with the endless waves of kisses that Satoru gives you. He wants you so badly. Devastatingly so. He wants to prove that he is the closest to deserving you by the end of the night.
Your heartbeat is inconsolable in your ribcage. The eye contact brought some reality to the situation. He chuckles at the doe-eyed look on your face before refocusing on his task. He's nearing the elastic band of your underwear, those cute lacy ones he got to touch in the car. His touch is already affecting you, the evidence being a wet spot reemerging in the middle of your underwear.
"You're so warm and soft, and..." he sighs, your body making his mind cloud. He couldn't have ever accurately imagined how stunning you would be with just the golden street lamp's light shining through your window. "...you smell really fucking good." His hands go beneath the elastic band of your underwear, dragging his dainty fingers through your slit enough times to earn a small gasp from you, before pulling his hand out. "Bet you taste amazing, too," he says, wrapping his lips around his glossy digits. "Mhm..." he practically moans when your taste coats his tastebuds. "Sweeter than I could have ever imagined."
You don't think you'll get over Satoru saying these explicit things to you.
"More. Fuck, I need more." There's so much he wants to do to you, so little time in the night despite it only being 11:30. "God, you're so..." he cuts himself off and kisses down your stomach, impatiently—desperately. "...so pretty. So—fuck— so pretty. Gonna make you feel so good."
"Okay, 'toru, make sure to breathe," you tease, running your fingers through his soft locks as he nears your throbbing core.
He drags his nose up and down the wet patch of your panties, audibly inhaling your scent and exhaling through shuddered breaths. He sounds feral, his aching cock creating its own pool of arousal in his boxers. The tip of his nose was covered in your slick, the remnants of you on his skin driving him absolutely crazy. Once he absolutely couldn't take it anymore, he yanked your underwear down, almost tearing the pretty fabric and tossed it onto the floor. You were soaked at the sight of his pure lust towards you. Those eyes were darker than you've ever seen them before.
He tries to be slow and gentle for you. You're the one thing he's wanted for the longest time and now he has you. You're not guaranteed to be his forever, after this, but at least the night is secured and he has this one chance to prove that he would do it right with you. That he could handle your body with a tenderness and loving that would make you weep. Everything you want in a lover will be given to you in one act of demonstrating how undeniably in love with you he is.
His attempt at slow sensuality never reaches you. His arms are hooked tightly around your thighs to prevent you from squirming away from his greedy mouth. He wants everything you give him to never end. The melodic sound of you moaning his name, the sweet nectar that just keeps drooling out of your cunt, the sting on his scalp from the firm hold you have on his hair and the tugging. He's in heaven. If the possibility of this reoccurring is nonexistent, he wants this moment to loop. For there to be a glitch in real life that allows him to replay this scenario as many times as he likes, like a story with multiple endings.
"You taste so good. So fucking good, princess. Wanna give you a taste," he rambles. He unwraps his right arm from your thigh and uses his forearm to pin it down so that he can use his fingers on you. He bends all his fingers down except for his index and middle fingers. Your slick is already streaming out of you, ready to be collected, but he can't resist the urge to dip his fingertips into your pulsing hole. "Oh fuck, you're so wet," he utters in awe, quickly tossing the idea of just his fingertips going in when his long, lithe fingers sink into you with ease.
"Satoru," you choke out, a sharp gasp following. The pads of his fingers brush against that spot within you that forces you to bite your lip. Your heart is racing. What if you get caught? How would you explain what's going on to your friends and would the dynamic of your living situation change because of it? You care, but clearly not enough to second guess this moment again, like you did in the car.
"Mmm..." he moans against your clit, his lips smacking after releasing the now throbbing bundle. "So sweet." He pulls his fingers out of you and admires the glaze that drips down to his knuckles. He wants to be selfish and put them in his mouth, but his need for you to know how good you are to his tastebuds overpowers those thoughts. "Open, pretty," he says, tapping his wet fingers against your lips. He watches with parted lips as you take his slick coated digits into your mouth, shutting your lips around them to completely suck off your essence. "Good, huh?" A pleased grin appears when you nod. "Yeah... I want it back." He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and puts them on your right breast, smearing your saliva all over your nipple until it pebbles.
All you can do is say "huh?" before your lips are enveloped by his. The kiss starts out slow— he's taking a moment to appreciate how perfect your lips feel against his. For a minute you can feel the way he innocently wants you. You have butterflies in your stomach all over again.
His hunger for you grows with every sharp breath you release and the squirming beneath his unrelenting hands on your chest. Your heart has been pounding in your ears since he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you have goosebumps from all the rubbing, brushing, and tweaking he offers your nipples, the throbbing in your cunt only intensifying as you withstand it. He thinks the whimpers that seep into your kisses are the cutest sounds ever and he doesn't want them to stop, so he glides a hand down your abdomen and gives you the touch you're missing.
You break the kiss, throwing your head back into the pillow at the feeling of Satoru rubbing your clit. He watches through gleaming eyes the way your jaw hangs and allows the sweetest moans to spill from your kissed up lips.
"Feeling good?" He asks, grinning when you respond with a moan that makes you clasp a hand over your mouth. "Yeah? That's an answer, too." He chuckles, watching intently as you crumble beneath his touch, not some zero's who made a fool out of himself.
You uncover your mouth, your sounds amplifying and flowing freely. "Satoru," you gasp. "Oh, fuck– S-Satoru!" The last words you manage to cry out before you cum without a warning.
You look way too pretty arching your back off the bed and chasing friction from his hand. Your neck looks palpable like that, exposed for him like you want him to mark it up and take a few bites.
"Let me make you feel good, pretty girl," he coos, drunk off the cute sounds of the heaves and sobs that wrack through your chest, your little whines shining through them. Lustful, lidded eyes watch as you try to wriggle away from his touch.
"P-Please," you huff out, your trembling thighs working to shut around his hand. It's too much, your peak has passed and now you're left to bear the overwhelming feeling of his unstopping fingers.
"I know, I know. It's terrible..." he murmurs. His tip is leaking so much at the sight of your body jerking and your eyes welling with tears. He really loves the way you've surrendered yourself to him. "You're so pretty." He sighs, dreamily. He stops and wiggles his hand out of the tight embrace of your thighs. You take a deep breath and blink away tears, focusing on the comforting movement of his hands caressing your thighs. He can see the way you look at his body. His chest, the sculpted muscles of his abdomen, the pale happy trail that leads to a part of him that you are unfamiliar with.
He crawls over you, his lower body wedged between your legs. "Don't be scared to touch," he says, his tone sultry. He grabs ahold of your hand and places it on his chest, initiating the contact for you. You take control and allow your hands to roam his body. Like you're in a room full of random unpressed buttons, you explore the different reactions you get from touching different parts of him. You discovered that his nipples are sensitive. He groaned into your neck when you palmed at his pecs and borderline whimpered when you focused your touch on his peaks. He shuddered when you traced along his ribs, but once you neared his stomach and waist, things got hot for you all over again. Your heart raced as he breathed into your neck due to the feeling of your nails gently scratching along his abs. He was rutting his clothed bulge against your cunt, desperate, low moans leaving him with every graze of your nails along his waist.
"F-Fuck, I can't wait anymore. Please, let me in." He whips out the cutest puppy eyes you've ever seen, and though they're unnecessary, you're not opposed to him having to resort to those means.
"Y-Yeah, okay," you breathe, feeling the throbbing in your cunt intensify when he stopped rolling his hips against you.
He's rushing, his movement stuttered and his hands shaking with desperation as he works his boxers off. He's impressed with the amount of precum that went into them, but he doesn't waste time admiring the mess any longer once he frees his achingly hard, drooling cock. It's sensitive to the touch. He'll cum if he doesn't play his cards right while lathering his length with the essence that beads at his tip. With that taken care of, he comes close to you again.
"This is gonna be the slowest start ever," he says under his breath, eyeing that sweet little smile on your face, like you understand the turmoil he's going through with just trying to get inside you. His tip nudges your clit, spreading some of his precum onto the nub as he guides it up and down your slit a couple times. He's working himself up to sinking in because he knows how wet you are. After a few more strokes, he presses just the tip in, nestling it into your warmth with a groan. You gasp as he slowly drives himself into you, the stretch his girth induces proving to be immense. He tries to steady his stuttering hips as he pushes more of his length in.
"Little more, just a liiittle more," he says through soft breaths, more to himself than you. Once he glides the rest of his length in, he feels like he's going to explode. He's throbbing so hard and you're not helping at all with the brief, inconsistent spasming of your walls. "Oh fuck... shit," he whimpers, thrusting only halfway into you. "Sorry—fuck—s-sorry... I can't-" He gasps when he thrusts the rest of the way in, spewing his load as he just grinds against you.
Your eyes widen as you watch him, his eyes shut tightly, his jaw hanging ajar to release shaky breaths. His cheeks, neck and chest are blazed, bright color smothered over his pale skin.
"Shit..." he rasps, still taking deep breaths.
You can't even ridicule him for this when he looks so fine. The laugh he let out was enough to make your thighs twitch.
"It's alright, Satoru. It's getting pretty late, anyway."
"No-the-fuck it's not," he says, looking down at you with the smallest crease between his brows. He's wanted this—wanted you—for way too long and he can't leave your room without showing you just how badly he desires you. It's a need, at this point.
A chill runs down your spine and your heart drops at his response.
"I mean, i'm not tired. Are you?" He asks, softening a little after coming in so hot with his last response.
You're not and even if you were, it's those eyes... They compel you to want to do things for his sake. They're so soft and you feel wanted beneath their force. You feel everything he said to you in the car when you peer into his eyes.
"No. I'm not tired either," you respond, which instantly puts a smile on his face.
"Good. Let me try again."
Neither of you mentioned any of what happened within that quick span of time. No mentions of him spilling the second he got inside you or you trying to end the night to save him the embarrassment, and it turned out for the better. No awkwardness once he recovered and went back to proving his love for you. He went straight into it, thrusting at a slow pace to start you off. He held onto your hips as he leaned in and kissed all over your chest, sucking your delicate skin to leave little reminders of him for you to see in the morning.
He groans, muffled by your warm skin, when you scratch the back of his head, guiding your nails through the short hairs of his undercut and down the nape of his neck. He's purring like a satisfied cat, the soft breaths he lets out through his nose grazing your neck.
With all these good feelings comes Satoru picking up the pace. His hips meet yours a little more quickly and suddenly both of you get a little more courage to make more sound.
"Fuck," you whimper. "Satoru... S-Satoru..."
"I know..." he grunts. "I know, baby. I feel really good, too."
You just look so damn pretty, with your starry eyes and your messy hair, and the way you keep moaning his name. He has to kiss you again. Each time he kissed you before was accompanied by fireworks. This time... who knows? He certainly won't unless he gains the courage to do it once more.
He leans forward and stares deep into your eyes. The level of intimacy has doubled down and you feel like your heart is trying even harder to lurch out of your chest. He's not stopping, you can feel his breath on your lips as he pants through the exertion of his hips. Then, once again, with a whimper as he closes the distance between your mouths, he kisses you. It's not fireworks this time, it's an entire fire and you kissing him back like you need him just as much is fanning the wild flames.
"Love... you," he disperses the words through his kisses. He doesn't only say it once. He says it multiple times as your lips are moving, making those pauses purposeful. "Fuck– I love you," he repeats, breaking the kiss when you don't say anything. "Come on," he chuckles. "Say it back."
"Satoru..." you say, softly.
"You say it all the time to us. What's another time?"
You bite back a laugh when you see those brilliant eyes again. He knows the effect they have on people and uses them to his advantage.
"It doesn't..." he groans, cursing under his breath when you suddenly clench around him. "...have to mean anything more than it usually does."
You're hesitant, but figure that as long as he doesn't take it as more than what he's used to—at least until things are talked through—there can't be any harm in saying what he wants to hear.
"Love you, 'toru."
The words are way too sweet, too gentle on his ears. The smile you offered as you delivered those words was devastatingly beautiful. You've said this a million times, each time so friendly, so lovingly, the meaning never feigned or faded with its repetition, but in that moment, he felt the words more than he ever did before. Your plush thighs are pressed against his hips, your hands are on his chest, and he can still smell that perfume you spritzed on your skin before you left. He's never heard you like this before, so sultry that it almost seems like an invasion of privacy.
"Again... say it again, p-please." With the scene that is playing out before his very eyes, he wants to imagine you meaning it as a term for lovers.
"I-I..." you let out a sharp gasp, your words cut off by the feeling of his cock brushing against that weak spot within you. "I love y-you, Satoru."
You're saying it to him only, right now. It's not 'I love you guys', it's 'I love you, Satoru', and he's drowning in it all. Your voice, the words, the blissed out look on your face. He's weak.
"Yeah?" He laughs, sounding almost delirious from how good he feels and how he's trying so hard not to cum.
"Mhm," you respond.
"T-That's good to know," he says, breathily. He's picking up the pace again, almost knocking the wind out of you with that first thrust in the change of pace. You're scratching up his back, wrapping your legs around his waist while he moans into the crook of your neck.
"G-Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum, again."
"Please... cum inside," you babble, nonsensically.
"Yeah? You want it inside again?" He asks, grinning when you hum and nod in confirmation. Who is he to deny you of such a simple want?
With a few more harder thrusts, he's filling you to the brim again with his warm cum. He's breathing heavily into your neck, mouthing at your skin sloppily as your cunt flutters around him. He's babbling on and on asking you if you came and if you feel good, while you're trying not to cry out too loudly from how hard you did. It's only until he unsticks himself from your tacky skin that he sees the aftermath of your orgasm. Your lidded eyes, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your shuddered breaths brushing past your lips. He's thinking about it again. No one deserves you, but clearly, he was the closest.
He tosses himself beside you once you both come down. Your blanket is shared between the two of you, it reaches just above your chest and above Satoru's hips.
He sighs as he turns over to face you as you stare up at the ceiling. "You think they heard us?" He asks, voice low and intimate, yet a mischievous smirk that tells you he wouldn't care if they did, plays on his lips.
"Not sure. I guess we'll find out tomorrow." Now it's your turn to sigh. You don't even want to think about how weird breakfast might be in the morning.
"Hey," he calls for your attention. You turn onto your side to face him, keeping the blanket close to your body. "It's gonna be fine. What's the worst that could happen? They tease us or call us dumb?" You give him a soft smile. Normally, you're the one calling him dumb while the others agree. "Don't know about you, but I don't mind. They don't know the story, anyway. Right?"
"Right."
Time slowed down in that moment. You both just stared at each other in silence, thinking about what just happened. You were comfortable together, lying there, satisfied with your decisions. He pulled you closer by your blanket covered waist and pressed kisses into your cheek, enough to make you giggle until you started returning the kisses. To anybody, this would be considered a sight of two lovers taking care of each other after a night of intimacy. The whispered words, the quiet laughter between kisses, the gentle drags of fingers on harsh marks—it all points to love. You think things might be okay, after all.
It took a while for you and Satoru to untangle yourselves from each other. Eventually, he got up and dressed into everything but his messy boxers. You weren't going to get back into your dress so you laid back for a while and watched as he collected himself.
"Well... I'll see you in the morning." His hand is on the doorknob and he's looking at you, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body as if he's trying to memorize you all over again within the short span of his goodnight to you.
"Mhm. Goodnight."
He pulls the door open, still not detaching his gaze from you. "Goodnight," he says, his voice low, yet warm and brimming with love. He spares one more soft smile for you, before walking out and clicking the door shut behind him.
You think you finally understand why he's so hung up on the way you say goodnight.
5K notes · View notes
j-esbian · 1 year
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i wish i knew. when it was my turn to talk about myself
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canthelpit0 · 5 months
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Intimate
Pairing: Matt x Reader
Wordcount: 2.1k +
In wich: matt has a borderline obsession with cock warming
Warnings: smut, cock warming, p in v, use of y/n, 1st pov, praise kink, name calling (slut), pet names, unprotected, creampie
(A/N: English is not my first language! Also this song has like barely anything to do w the plot, I just feel like that’s the vibe. This is sort of like a blurb. Hope you guys like it <3)
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One of the considerably weird things Matt is into is: cock warming.
I clench at the thought trying to focus on my history homework.
I’ve known Matt for practically all my life. We’ve always been close and no conversation between us was ever awkward.
Matt didn’t seem like the type to be into that sort of stuff. But one day, when, we were hanging out and cuddling like we were normally, I felt a hardness at my butt.
When I turned back to look at him he was blushing. Matt had his arms wrapped around my waist, spooning me.
After I asked him what that is, he responded with a question. “Can I..?” He trailed off and I wasn’t catching on to his train of thought.
“What? you want to fuck?” I huff rolling my eyes…not that I would be against it.
“No.” He said defensively squeezing my sides. “Can I just put it in?” Matt asked shyly.
I paused, But eventually complied. With the duvet being over us it shouldn’t be too awkward. He shuffled out of his sweatpants and pulled mine down too.
And before I knew it his finger was inside of me and I was wet.
After a few moments I felt the head of his dick press against me before feeling his entire length slide into me.
I never thought he’d be into that, but even further, I didn’t think that I’d like it too.
I shift feeling the angle change.
“Y/n/n, can you stop moving.” Matt huffs, his words sounding passive aggressive. He puts one of his hands on my hips to prevent as much movement as possible, his other hand still clutching his phone.
I clench again at the tone of his voice, slamming my pen down.
Ever since that day, when this first started off, I started to sit on him more often. Whether it was while we were cuddling or just mindlessly hanging out. We’re not necessarily friends with benefits tho.
I guess he just likes the feeling… but so do I.
It was bad, like we hung out so much Chris and Nick started to make joking remarks about it.
About us hanging out so much that is, not the… whatever we’re doing.
Like it was so bad that practically every time we were alone somewhere private, I was probably sitting on his dick.
It feels so intimate and good, and if we still have time after, he’ll rail me.
But I’m saying that when we’re at home doing homework, I’m sitting on his lap. Or when cuddling or sleepovers. Or even when we go get fast food to eat in the parking lot at night. I’ll climb over the middle console and sit down on it.
I was never a skirt person, but I started to wear skirts more often just for the easier access.
I could go hours just calmly sitting on it.
But sometimes after a while I would get frustrated.
I try to grind into him, Matt still holding me in place as much as he can.
“What? You wanna get yourself off on my dick?” He huffs. His grip on my hip gets harder making me whine, while his other hand still holds his phone.
He’d been scrolling through TikTok and various other social media while I was trying to get all of my homework done.
And it’s been probably over an hour now and I was getting frustrated from all the homework. doing math first was definitely a mistake.
And while on a normal day I would be fine with the intimacy and wouldn’t be trying to get myself off, the homework today was frustrating. And since Matt was already balls deep inside of me, I might as well.
He leans over putting his phone on my desk. With the movement his hand on my hip loosens giving me the opportunity to start to slightly ride him.
“Fuck-“ i sigh. I lean forward on my arms, trying to get as much friction as I can, both on my sweet spot and also my clit.
I hear Matt’s low groan. And suddenly his hands are on my hips again, holding me in place.
“Y/n I swear, i will make you cum over and over again until you’re seeing fucking stars if you don’t fucking stop right now and go back to your homework.”
His tone is authoritative and so hot. Why was he saying that like it would be such a bad thing anyway.
“Matt please.” I whine.
Sometimes Matt would get frustrated and fuck me while I wasn’t even paying him any mind, and sometimes it was the other way around.
He huffs letting go of my hips. Matt leans back as he just watched me and my every move.
I let out a shaky breath once again, leaning forward more to lift myself better.
“Fucking slut, getting yourself off on your best friends dick.” He rolls his eyes in exasperation.
His hands go to my waist, assisting my movements now instead of stopping me.
“If you cum I’m still gonna Make you warm me.” He warns his tone assertive.
Matt holds me in place for a few seconds and scoots the chair back. I sigh leaning forward, using my forearms to prop me up, before starting to ride him again.
His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth dropped in a silent moan while he watches me.
He somehow seemed way less sensitive than me. But I can literally feel the knot starting to tie In My stomach just waiting to snap.
By this point I was panting and Matt was letting out some heavy breaths too.
“Fuck- Matt, Matt” I whine his name my voice pitching higher as i keep getting closer.
“You close baby?” He breaths out keeping his hands on my hips for stability.
I let out a sharp breath letting my head drop forward as I keep up the angle and speed up in order to reach my climax faster.
“Yeah.” One of my hands go down to my clit to rub it, resulting in my other arm having to hold me up alone.
“Come then.” He demands, his voice sounding cocky. I can hear him breathe heavily and bite his lip to keep quiet.
With his hands tightening on my hips, I feel the knot in my stomach snap.
I let out a loud moan, piercing through the, otherwise, mostly quiet room.
I sit down again my pussy convulsing around his cock.
I sigh, trying to calm down again. Matt’s hands rub my sides, holding my back to his chest and mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.
“You good?” He asks after I mildly catch my breath. I lean more into him, my eyes fluttering closed as I mumble an agreement.
“You gonna go back to your homework now, or…?” He trails off waiting for me to answer.
“No” I breathe out and slightly look over my shoulder to make eye contact with him.
He lets his huge grin take over his features. He picks me up gently, making me wince, to wich he whispers encouraging praises into my ear.
My back makes contact with my bed. I sigh at the feeling of the soft sheets under me. And I watch as Matt hurriedly takes off his shirt.
I was still wearing my mini skirt and a long sleeve shirt, but Matt didn’t look like he was going to take them off. The access was easy, so really, why do the extra work.
Matt rubs my lower stomach, while his other hand holds his dick. He glides it up my folds before slipping it back into me. I whine at the feeling throwing my head back into the mattress.
I’m still sensitive from my previous orgasm and also from the hour of cock warming’s
It wasn’t like he wasn’t sensitive too. I could see him physically hold back from releasing right then and there.
Our eyes stay locked while he starts to rock his hips against me. I can feel him hit that spot in me that makes pure euphoria shoot through my entire body.
Despite not being labeled, it always felt so intimate with Matt.
Maybe it was because most of the time it was literally just cock warming and nothing else. But sometimes, when it did come to the actual intercourse - penetration type of thing, it still felt intimate.
“So good for me baby.” He breaths out. Our eyes stay locked, my mouth dropped in quiet moans.
“Fuck- you like being filled?” He chuckles. His hand stays on my lower abdomen, pressing down slightly to feel himself.
I close my eyes briefly trying to respond, but the way his hips snap into me, and the way he still manages to make this feel sensual, has my head fuzzy.
“Fuck..” Matt breaths out his eyes staying locked on my face. “Too fucked out to answer now?”
All I can do is whine out his name and moan loudly, and he takes pride in that. I know he does. I can see it in his eyes.
“You wanna be fucking full all the time, don’t you baby?” Matt taunts, somehow speeding up even more.
I clench around him my legs going stiff at the constant and heavy stimulation.
Matt notices and readjusts, picking up my legs further so they’re on his shoulders before he picks up pace again.
“Close” I whine out, I can feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter by the second, threatening to snap anytime now.
“Good girl” he hums. Matt’s fingers find their way towards my clit as he starts to vigorously rub it.
“Oh god-“ I moan loudly throwing my head back, my eyes shutting tightly as I try not to get overwhelmed, even tho i already am.
“Eyes on me.” Matt speaks lowly also panting. His movements pick up pace getting more rough and messy, indicating that he’s close too.
My eyes snap open, immediately meeting his. And as soon as they do, I feel my body convulse, my orgasm washing over me like a wave. But despite that, I try to keep my eyes on Matt as best as I can.
“So pretty.” He breathes out harshly and before either of us know it, he gives me one last thrust and fills me up.
I pant, trying to catch my breath. I feel a thin layer of sweat coat my skin, but despite that, I love this feeling.
This post orgasmic state was sending me into almost as much euphoria as the sex itself.
I watch through lazy, heavy-lidded eyes as Matt sits up straighter, moving my legs from off of his shoulders.
“You wanna clean up or sleep like this sweetheart?” He asks tilting his head. Matt was trying to contain a goofy smile.
“Just..” I trail off and let out a breath. Damn I didn’t realize just how out of breath I am.
“Just lay down.” I breathe out.
He licks his lips his eyes wandering from my face to my body and how it’s still clothed.
“You wanna sleep with clothes, or…” he trails off. Matt’s eyes come to meet mine again with a playful glint.
“Matt, I don’t care” I say exasperated.
“I wanna cuddle?” He says like I said we wouldn’t. I huff a slight laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation at hand.
Matt huffs trying and failing to hold back a smile. He gently and slowly pulls out in order to not hurt me. But I still wince from the over stimulation.
He pulls the skirt back down and than reaches for the zipper. He pulls the skirt off tossing it to the floor carelessly.
He then reaches for my long sleeve shirt. I sit up slightly so he can take that, and my bra also off.
Now being nude under him, he looks satisfied. He hums in approval and wordlessly lays down next to me, before I feel his arms go around my waist.
“You think you can warm me, baby?” He whisper sweetly into my ear. I feel a shiver run down my spine from his tone of voice. My eyes shut I take in his silk like words.
“Corse.” I breathe out pushing my hips back into him to tease him.
Matt chuckles lowly. I feel his length slide through my folds. Still being soaked in our combined juices, it was fairly easy for him to slip back in, not that it didn’t make me moan.
I felt way too sensitive, but like hell would I ever say no to this.
Matt chuckles at the low moan I let out. He has his arm spread out so I can lay on it his other arm around my waist. “You do like being full?” He asks in fake shock.
“You were the one that started this tho?” I question right back not moving at all. Simply keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the closeness and intimacy.
“Touché.”
Masterlist
A /N: sorry for being gone for so long guys. Schools been overwhelming. But yeah, I hope you guys liked this. Requests and asks are open & feedback is always appreciated 💕
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun
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rebelscums · 3 months
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Little Flower (Qimir x Padawan reader)
Rating: Fluff | Kissing | Light grinding | A pillow is thrown
Summary: You are the padawan to a masked man you had no name of. You have been by his side for years, training and mastering the arts of what he refers to as the dark side of the force. However, with Mae entering your life as his new favorite, you are beginning to question whether you belong there anymore. Something that you run to your closet fiend to talk about. Who knew confessing to Qimir about your trouble would bring a life changing moment.
“I’m not strong enough for him.” That was the first thing you said to Qirmir as you entered his shop. Borrowed shop? You didn’t care.
The defeat in your tone was enough to alert him of your dismay.
“That’s it. I’m officially useless to him. He doesn’t need me.” You blurted out all of your frustrations to the only person you have ever been able to call a friend, “All he cares about is his new acolyte Mae.”
You were both stationed here with Mae as she completed the next part of her trial which was to kill Master Torbin… Without a weapon.
“What makes you say that?” Qimir popped his head up from behind his counter.
“He’s been making me run these needless errands lately that literally anyone else in the galaxy can do.” You set a bag of powdered gold leaves onto the counter, “This took me an entire day to find and when I go back to the spot I left him, he was gone! Gone! Didn’t tell me where either.” You said frustratingly, “So I figured you might know what to do with this.”
Qimir took the bag and peered inside, a please look on his face as he hummed, “Actually I do. It’s the leaves I need to make a poison Mae requested.”
“Of course it is.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of her name.
Mae seemed to be taking the eyes of your master and Qimir lately. Something that made your eyes turn green with the overpowering feeling of jealousy… Of being abandoned.
“Look, I love Mae and she has become very dear to me, but… I was here first.” You felt like a child for saying that, “I know that sounds selfish, but it feels like he just tossed me aside for a better version.” You looked up at Qimir showing him the hurt and betrayal in your eyes before looking away to try and suppress your feelings, “And maybe… Maybe she is better than me… Maybe I should just take my loss and go.” You spoke in a near whisper, your throat tightening at the thought.
“No!” The way he quickly voiced his answer had you looking up at him waiting for him to continue, “You are strong with the force and an extremely skilled assassin.” He shook his head, “You don’t have to leave.”
You sighed and moved past him and the counter, “But what if he wants me to leave Qi? You don’t understand. It’s like he doesn’t even see me or the power I possess. All he ever says to me is that I’m not ready to become his acolyte and that I need to help Mae ascend yet…” You slumped into the cot that he called a bed with a huff, “I’m older than she is! I’ve been with him longer might I add. I’ve never questioned him, I’ve followed him loyally and this is what I am granted with? To be a baby sitter?”
“One useful skill may come out of that job.” He noted and you missed the blush in his face at whatever he was thinking about…
“And what might that be?” You muttered tiredly as you stared up at the ceiling contemplating your life and how you could just be better.
“You would make a good mother?” Qimir shrugged his shoulders as he tried to had the small smirk on his lips.
You launched one of the pillows on the bed the moment those words left his mouth. It was going straight for his head to which he surprisingly dodged with ease, but that didn’t stop the surprised look appear on his face as he raised his hands in surrender.
“Not funny.” You grumbled and crossed your arms, turning to face the wall with a pout.
“Okay okay. I’m sorry.” Qimir said as he walked over to where you were. When you didn’t turn to face him, he decided to take a seat on the edge of the bed beside you. There was a thoughtful look on his face before he spoke again, “Maybe… Maybe he is looking out for you.”
That got your attention. You sat up, your shoulders brushing against his as you peered up at him with confusion, “What do you mean?”
A nervous blush creeped up his face as you leaned closer to him, “Well I mean… I…” He trailed off nervously, “I just mean that maybe you just might be more important to him than you realize. He could be looking after you to take on a more important role.”
“What’s more important than being his acolyte?” You huffed in confusion as you look towards your fiddling hands, “I remember what he said to me all those years ago when we first met. He promised he would make me a powerful force weirder and that I would stand by his side as his acolyte and now… Now I’m starting to question if he really meant it.”
Qimir’s hand found yours and gave it a comforting squeeze, “He meant it and… You are powerful. Just as you are brave and unlawfully kind.” He assured and it was your turn to blush.
It seemed like he always knew what to say to you in ways that made your heart flutter and your cheeks burn, “Qi…” You breathed out as you glanced at his lips.
He was quick to copy your movements leaning in closer to you as he did so, “Maybe he sees too much good in you to turn you into something your not.” He whispered, his breath caressing your skin.
“You seem to know a lot about what he may think.” You whispered, suddenly lost in his darkening gaze, “Why is that?”
“What can I say? I’m good at reading people.” He smirked slightly as he looked down at your lips again, “I’m also extremely possessive over what I care about. Knowing him means knowing you.”
“Okay…” You hummed accepting his answer, “Alright then mister possessive, what am I thinking about right now?” You mused, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes.
It was something the Qimir couldn’t get enough of. It was your playfulness towards him that was like a breath of fresh air against the darkness he was met with daily.
“I would say…” His speech was slow as he traced your face with his eyes, “That you really want to kiss me.” He teased lowly. There was a small grin on his face in knowing that he was right.
He was always right.
“Do I now?” You didn’t try to deny it as you leaned in closer to him, “And you? What do you want to do?”
A low noise emanated from his throat, almost like a pleading sound as his lips brushed against yours, “I want to kiss you...” He said in a way that made your heart yearn for him.
“Then what are you waiting for? Kiss me.” You breathed out, your heart racing wildly in excitement.
That was all he needed to hear as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed at the soft sensation in the way that he kissed you. It was delicate and gentle as if he was afraid to push you too far, but the way your arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer to you, was all he needed to know.
He felt like light between your fingertips as you ran your hands through his hair and he was gentle with his movements in guiding you back against the bed. “Beautiful…” He breathed out, fitting himself snugly between your legs.
“Qi…” You breathed his name against his lips, arching your back as he tugged your bottom lips between his teeth. He held himself back, letting go of your lip to really look at you. You couldn’t help but look at him with awe as he gazed at you with so much love and devotion shining in his eyes.
“You are just… Breathtaking.” He admired you with every part of his being, “Utterly breathtaking…” He seemed mesmerized as his right hand traced along your curves.
You blushed, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked away from him embarrassed by his loving words, “Who knew you were such a flatterer.”
He chuckled lowly as he leaned back down to kiss your lips. All too quickly he left and began leaving a trail of kisses down to your neck. You couldn’t help your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.
“You deserve to be flattered.” He continued losing himself in everything that was you. He rocked himself against you as he held back the urge to devour you entirely. He wanted too so desperately now that he knew you were his, body, soul, and mind. He would never let you go, not now… Not until his last dying breath. “You deserve the galaxy, my little flower.” He muttered softly against your skin.
You have much to learn little flower.
You moaned lightly at the pleasure he filled you with almost kissing his last words, but you heard them. Your mind took a moment to register the deeper meaning behind his endearment, but when you did your eyes opened in realization. It was him. Qimir was him. No one knew about that little nickname except for…
“Master?” You whispered running your fingers through his hair in a gentle manner, but your heart beat widely in your chest as he stopped kissing you.
“Hm…” He hummed a small smirk gracing his lips as he breathed against your neck, “You finally figured it out.”
You placed your right hand on his cheek and gentle lifted his head to face you, “He’s you?” You said in awe as you pieced together every moment up until now, “You’re him?”
“I am.” He searched your eyes for any fear or resistance, but his shoulders relaxed as he saw none.
“So… That is why you were never around when he— I mean when you were training me? Because you were already there.” Your brows furrowed, “Does Mae know?” A small pang filled your chest at the possibility of her knowing your masters identity before you.
He shook his head, “No.”
The pang quickly left, filling your chest with relief as you let out a small sigh, “So… That’s how you were so sure about how he was feeling because that’s what you truly felt…” A blush filled your cheeks at the kind words he said to you earlier.
However, you realized something else as well. He was the one who kept you from becoming his acolyte. You gasped as you smacked his chest causing him to groan and you would have cared for the old Qimir if you didn’t already know how strong he truly was as your master.
“Why won’t you make me your acolyte?” You huffed slightly embarrassed now that you know you spilled your guts to him, “This entire time I have told you how I felt. I am devoted only to you master so why will you not let me become your acolyte?”
“I thought you would have figured that out by now.” He chuckled shaking his head.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? That is why you train me, it is why you let me stay with you, is it not?”
Strands of his hair fell into his eyes from the way he shook his head. You couldn’t help, but reach up to brush them away, something that had his heart flutter and his lips curl up into a soft smile. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed as he spoke softly, “I don’t want you to become my acolyte anymore because I couldn’t bear the thought of something ever happening to you.” His gaze darkened, “I would burn the galaxy before that ever happens.”
You smiled softly and brushed away the creases from his brow, “I know.”
“I want you to be mine.” He nuzzled his nose into your wrist before placing a gentle kiss upon in, “I want you to be my equal… Not as someone who does my bidding, not as my padawan or my acolyte, but someone who stands by me.”
“I want you my little flower because you are everything I wish the world to be.” He finished, a soft look in his eyes.
Love swelled up in your chest at the confession he conveyed so deeply to you. His love sealed your fate to him as you leaned up towards him. You brushed your lips against his, the both of you conveying your strong emotions to one another with the look of your eyes.
“You have my heart Qimir and I will stand by your side, always.” You agreed softly.
It was a promise that the two of you would keep without any doubt. He was yours and you were his until the end of time.
2K notes · View notes
reidsworld · 1 month
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Patience Wears Thin
Summary: Logan’s flirty behaviour has you thinking he’s just being sarcastic. But when his attitude changes and his grumpiness intensifies, leading to him avoiding you, you confront him, only for him to finally snap. Based on this request.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: Reader’s oblivious, mild language, sexual tension, slight jealous!logan, making out, hickeys, oral sex(m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), creampie, (semi) public sex (you’ll see what I mean), no use of Y/N, pet names (darlin’) — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!
Word Count: 2.9k
Mars speaks… It's been a while since I’ve posted but here we are!! Thank you for the request, this was kinda tough for me to write and didn’t really turn out how I wanted it but I hope it meets your expectations! The reader is a mutant but her powers aren’t specified. Any and all feedback is always appreciated!
Masterlist
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You were used to Logan’s gruffness, but lately, something had changed. At first, it was little things—him hanging around more often, offering to help with tasks that didn’t need his strength, or staying close by even when you were just making coffee. You noticed the way his hand would brush against yours when passing you something or how he’d rest his hand on your shoulder a little longer than necessary. Despite all of his actions, he was still cold around you, seemingly never able to escape his own grumpiness.
One evening, as you were getting ready for a date, Logan wandered by your room. His mood was clearly off as he knocked leaned against your door frame, his eyes closed and head tilted down. When you greeted him, he slowly looked you up and down. His expression shifted from frustration to shock as he took in how stunning you looked.
“Damn,” Logan said, his voice cold and deep, if you didn’t know him, you would’ve sworn he hated you. “You look incredible. Got a big night planned?”
You glanced up from the mirror, surprised by his comments. “Oh, I have a date tonight,” you replied with a smile, still adjusting your dress.
Logan’s eyes darkened slightly as he processed your words. “A date, huh?”
“Yep,” you said, focusing on your reflection. “I’m just trying to pick the right outfit.”
He pushed himself off the door frame, his gaze still fixed on you. “You don’t need to be worried about impressing anyone tonight, darlin’. Trust me, you look incredible.”
You laughed, thinking he was just being his usual flirtatious self. “Thanks, Logan. But it’s just dinner. Nothing too serious.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and he took a step back, his demeanour now distant. “Right. Well, have fun.”
You smiled at him, not noticing the shift in his attitude. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
As you left for your date, Logan watched you go, his face a mask of frustration and disappointment. The knowledge that you were going out with someone else hit him hard, and his mood darkened.
You were left puzzled by his sudden change in behaviour. However, in Logan’s mind, if you were going out with someone else, you clearly didn’t want him, so why should he put effort into a losing game?
But you didn’t think much of his compliments, chalking it up to Logan trying to be supportive. Until one day, you noticed something different—he started avoiding you.
It began with him skipping out on the usual training sessions you shared. Then, he stopped joining you for movie nights in the common room, always coming up with a vague excuse that didn’t make sense. He’d disappear for hours, not even leaving a trace of his familiar scent behind. The final straw was when he didn’t show up for your breakfast dates (well… that’s what they were to him), a ritual he never missed. It was confusing, and you couldn’t figure out what had changed.
You asked him once, in passing, if something was wrong. His answer was clipped, dismissive. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, darlin’.”
But you were worried. His behaviour was off, and no matter how much you replayed your interactions in your mind, you couldn’t pinpoint what had triggered this sudden shift.
A few days later, you walked into the kitchen to find Logan grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Relief washed over you—this was the first time you’d seen him in days without him immediately bolting. But when you greeted him, he barely grunted in response, not meeting your eyes.
“Logan, seriously,” you said, trying to sound casual but unable to keep the concern out of your voice. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me.”
His jaw clenched, and he didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the bottle in his hand. “Just been busy.”
“Busy?” You frowned, crossing your arms. “Too busy to even say hello?”
He looked up at you then, his eyes hard. “Yeah, busy. I don’t have time for games, alright?”
“Games?” you echoed, thrown off by the accusation. “What are you talking about? I’m not playing any games, Logan.”
He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head as he pushed past you, brushing your shoulder as he went. “Forget it.”
That was it? He was clearly upset, but he wouldn’t talk to you about it. It didn’t make sense. You stood there, staring at the spot where he’d just been, confusion and hurt swirling inside you. Logan was the last person you expected to act like this—especially toward you.
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A few more days passed, and the tension between you only grew. Logan’s avoidance became more blatant, and every time you tried to approach him, he’d find a way to leave before you could say anything. You started to wonder if you’d done something to upset him, but every time you asked, he brushed you off with a noncommittal grunt or a sarcastic remark.
It was driving you crazy.
Now you were sitting alone in the common room, you and Logan somehow being the only two in the mansion with everyone else out on various missions and overnight school trips. As you attempted to watch a movie to take your mind off things, Logan’s absence gnawed at you. He was always here for movie nights, even if he’d just sit silently in the corner. The emptiness of his usual spot was glaring, a constant reminder that something had shifted between you.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to confront him, to find out what the hell was going on.
When you walked into the gym, your eyes immediately found Logan, his muscular form sitting on a raised bench, sweat glistening on his skin. He didn’t acknowledge your presence, focusing on his workout with an intensity that made your stomach twist.
“Logan,” you called out, your voice firmer than you felt.
He paused, setting the dumbbells down with a heavy thud before finally looking at you. “What?”
“What is your problem?” you demanded, stepping closer, not giving him a chance to escape this time. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, and I want to know why.”
Logan’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off his face. “Maybe I’m just tired of tryin’,” he muttered, his voice low.
“Trying what?” You crossed your arms, frustration boiling over. “Logan, you’re not making any sense. You’ve been acting like I did something wrong, but I don’t even know what that is!”
His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, maybe? But there was something else too, something deeper that made your heart race.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he growled, stepping closer to you, his presence overwhelming.
“Get what?” you shot back, refusing to back down even though his proximity was making it hard to think straight.
Logan huffed, his hand running through his hair in a rare display of frustration. “I’ve been tryin’ to show you, but you’re too damn blind to see it.”
“Show me what?” You were at your wit’s end, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.
His eyes bore into yours, intense and unyielding. “That I want you, darlin’. I’ve wanted you for a long damn time, and I’m sick of you not seein’ it.”
You stared at him, stunned into silence. This was the last thing you expected him to say. Logan—gruff, no-nonsense Logan—wanted you? The thought was so far from anything you’d ever imagined that you couldn’t even process it.
“You…you want me?” you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the frustration in his eyes palpable. “I’ve been tryin’ to show ya, but you keep thinkin’ I’m just bein’ a grumpy bastard.”
You blinked, completely floored by his confession. “Logan, I…I didn’t know. I thought…”
“Thought I was messin’ with ya?” he finished for you, his voice rough, almost bitter. “That’s why I’ve been avoidin’ ya—figured if you couldn’t see it by now, I was just wastin’ my time.”
The weight of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. You hadn’t seen it, not because you didn’t want to, but because the idea that Logan could feel that way about you seemed impossible. And now, standing here, with him staring at you like you were the only person in the world, you realised how wrong you’d been.
“Logan, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. “I didn’t know. I never thought…”
“Don’t apologise,” he cut you off, his voice softer now, but still edged with frustration. “I’m just done waitin’, darlin’. I can’t keep doin’ this—dancin’ around it, hopin’ you’ll figure it out.”
You took a shaky breath, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think. “What do you want, Logan?”
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a way that made your knees weak. “You, darlin’. I’ve always wanted you.”
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, rough and demanding, as if he was trying to make up for all the time lost in that one kiss. The force of it stole your breath, your hands automatically reaching up to clutch his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fiercely.
Logan’s grip on you tightened, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing your lips until you parted them, letting him in. The taste of him—smoke, whiskey, and something unmistakably Logan—filled your senses, making your head spin.
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his breathing ragged, his pupils blown wide with desire. “Still think I’m jokin’?”
You shook your head, your heart racing, your thoughts scattered. “No,” you breathed out.
“Good,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours before he started kissing his way down your jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. “’Cause I’m gonna show you exactly how much I want you.”
His mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, making you gasp. Your hands fisted in his shirt, needing something to hold on to as his hands moved to your thighs, lifting you and moving to sit on the bench. Your legs desperately straddled him, pulling him closer.
Logan’s hands were everywhere—sliding under your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist, skimming up your ribs, his touch igniting a fire in you that you hadn’t realised was there. He was careful, almost reverent, despite the rough edge to his movements, as if he was holding himself back from completely losing control.
When his hands found your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric of your bra, you arched into him, a whimper escaping your lips. He growled, the sound low and primal, as his mouth found yours again, his kiss fierce and demanding.
You could feel the hardness of him pressing against your core, the friction sending waves of pleasure through you, and you couldn’t help but rock your hips against him, seeking more.
Logan’s response was immediate, his hands gripping your hips as you ground against him, his mouth devouring yours as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You were lost in the sensation, in the heat and the intensity of him, and it was all you could do to hold on.
Just when you thought you might lose yourself completely, Logan pulled back, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild as he looked up at you. “Tell me to stop,” he rasped, his voice strained, as if it was taking everything in him to hold back. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
But the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. You shook your head, your voice breathless as you whispered, “Don’t stop.”
Logan let out a low, feral sound, his lips crashing against yours again as he ripped off your shirt. His patience had worn thin, and now there was no turning back. As your lips roughly moulded together, tongues battling for dominance, your hands slid under his tank-top, brushing over his abs. You pulled away, taking off his shirt, jaw dropping at the sight of his glistening body from the sweat of his workout.
“Holy shit, you should be shirtless more often…”
He didn’t respond, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. Your hands trailed down his chest, fingers sliding down his happy trail. Climbing off him, you dropped down to your knees in front of him. He raised his hips as you pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, his dick springing out and slapping against his stomach.
You didn’t give him time to process what was happening as you immediately licked a stripe up his dick before taking the head into your mouth, tongue brushing against the tip, making him throw his head back against the bench and groan.
Your hands gently massaged his balls as your mouth focused on the head of his cock, gently sucking as his hand moved to gather your hair into a make-shift ponytail. You lowered your head, taking more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks.
Looking up through your lashes, your eyes met with his while you began to move your head up and down faster, your hands touching whatever couldn’t fit into your mouth. You continued this until your jaw was aching and his dick was twitching in your mouth.
He began to gently thrust into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. One of your hands slid down into your shorts, rubbing your clit before pushing a finger into your dripping pussy.
“Fuck, so good darlin’,” he grunted as you moaned around him, slipping another finger into yourself.
“If you don’t stop now, m’gonna cum, wanna feel you ‘round me.”
He pulled you off of him, revelling in your dishevelled appearance. You stood up, and pulled off your shorts and panties. You reached behind you, unclipping your bra, letting it slide off your body. His eyes trailed up and down your body admiring you. You bit your lip at the way his eyes shined with something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on but you never wanted him to stop looking at you like that.
You silently moved to straddle him, pulling him into a slow kiss as your bare core grinded against his cock. One of his hands wrapped around you, trailing up and down your back as you both sat there, grinding against each other. His other hand reached down and grabbed your hip.
You raised your hips as you reached for his cock, positioning at your entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. You leaned forward and he fell back against the bench and buried your face in his neck, letting out a simultaneous moan as you stretched around him. You stayed still, adjusting to his size, panting into his neck, making him harder than he thought possible.
Once you were ready, you slowly raised your hips before sinking back down onto him. His hands moved to grip your hips as you began to ride him, gently helping you. You kissed him roughly, moaning into his mouth as his hips thrust up to meet yours.
The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the loud moans and groans coming out of your mouths. In that moment, neither of you cared where you were— that there was a chance someone could easily walk in on you even though it was just the two of you in the mansion. All you two cared about was the feeling of him inside of you and how you wrapped so tightly around him.
He let out a rough groan as your lips met his neck, biting into it when his hips met yours. Bouncing on his dick, you clenched around him, making him let out an almost feral sound.
“Oh fuck don’t stop, wrapped so tightly ‘round me, s’like you were made for me.”
“‘M all yours, Lo.”
“Shoulda never avoided you, shoulda just manned up and kissed you, ‘stead of waiting ‘round for you to realise that I want you.”
If you weren’t so desperate for him, you would’ve laughed but all you could do was moan and nod into his neck.
“‘M gonna cum, Lo.”
“Give it to me, darlin’.”
His hand reached to roughly circle your clit, sending you over the edge. You moaned out as a feeling of ecstasy overcame you and your vision went white. Your body slumped against his but his thrusts were relentless. As they got sloppier, you could feel his dick twitch inside of you, making you moan.
“I’m so close, need to cum inside you.”
His mouth pressed against your neck, marking you like a blank canvas for everyone to see later. He pounded up into you, his hand still rubbing your clit causing you to cum for a second time. You tightened around him, making him shoot his cum deep inside you.
His thrusts slowed, fucking you through it as you both panted, trying to catch your breath. His movements came to a stop and he titled his head back, letting out a deep breath.
You raised your head, looking into his eyes and laughing,
“I can’t believe I could’ve had this so much sooner if I wasn’t so obvious.”
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Mars speaks… (again) woah that got… 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂
Tags… @pastelpinkflowerlife
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luvrxbunny · 10 months
Text
so much
pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara  x f!reader
summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)
wc: 2.1k
a/n: i blacked out again. 
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Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants. 
This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.” 
Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do. 
“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous. 
“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours. 
“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants. 
“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”
(“... So fucking bad but…”)
Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.   
What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…
“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”
Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’
The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs. 
He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes. 
He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”
“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him. 
You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.
(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)
“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you. 
“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles. 
("... strange, abnormal,")
“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re-  like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”
He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.
("No matter what I do.")
“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips. 
You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes. 
“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”
(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)
You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him. 
You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”
(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)
You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing. 
“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.
He’s cumming the moment he can see your face. 
You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.
You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest. 
“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.” 
(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)
(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier. 
(‘I love that.”)
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thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!
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