#just a reminder. a psa as it were | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvonmes-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Guilty

Y/N and Suguru were damn near polar opposites of each other. Y/N, a girl who wore her heart on her sleeve and gave and gave until she couldn't anymore. Suguru, a cocky dickhead who was spoon-fed opportunities and was given everything he ever wanted. how could the two ever make anything work?

Warnings - 18+ MDNI!! enemies to lovers! hockey player!geto, ice skater!reader, tatted!geto, pierced!geto, he gets bitched, getos a whiny little boy, smut, rough sex, sappy sex, daddy kink, breeding kink towards the end, some spit, sex in a public place, at some point Satoru walks in, Y/N kinda cries a lot (self-projection is real). i think theres more? lmk if i missed anything! w.c - 18.5k, not proof read. Song - Guilty By: TAEMIN

PSA - please do not compare this to Icebreaker. ik because of ice skating and the release of this book it’s the first thing you think of but, number one, that book sucks. number two, the book is supposed to have elements and revolve around muslim culture, the author obviously did not do enough research on what it is to be muslim and i hate it. number three, i actually spent time researching and even had someone help me make sure this was the best i can possibly make it, i’d like if my work was appreciated for being my work instead of it being appreciated because it reminds you of smt else. thank you!

all in all, DO NOT COMPARE THIS TO ICEBREAKER.

very special shout out to @r0ses4ndlilies for helping me use the proper ice skating terms!!!

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to say Suguru Geto was meant to be something - someone - important was as if to say the sun was meant to shine. obvious.

from a young age Suguru knew he was special, gifted in academics and sports, the only person to rival him - his own best friend, Satoru. the boys were their hometowns' prized possessions. their families bragged about them, boys wanted to be them, girls fawned after them. being in their presence meant there was never a dry day but as they grew older, they grew more focused. straying away from others to pursue their dream careers. the dream was finally reached in their college years, being accepted into the prestigious university, Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College. as soon as they graduated high school they were offered full rides to the school, as long as they played on the hockey team.

they took the offer without hesitation, going to one of the highest ranked schools and getting to play the sport of their dreams? easy yes. that was almost four years ago, the boys are in their last year of college, still playing for the hockey team, almost ready to graduate. the team was the best it had been in years, only three losses since Suguru and Satoru joined the team. not only were they the best on the team but the most popular in their frat as well - Sigma Beta Chi, courtesy of Satoru dragging Sugura to join along with him.

then there was you.

to say you had busted your ass to get where you were today would be an understatement. you poured your blood sweat and tears to get to the spot you’re in, captain of the TMTC ice skating team. as a child you’d always dreamed of becoming a figure skater. a video you had seen sparked your interest and since then you’d never let it go. it was hard, growing up your grandfather had tried his best to support you, going out of his way to pay for your skating lessons and even putting you into an after school program. he never told you of his financial struggles, he didn’t want you to give up on your dream but when you found out, you vowed to pay him back any way you could. you made sure your grades in school couldn’t be challenged, you took on many temp jobs, making money any way you could, while balancing the energy-draining skate practices you went to at night.

in your third year both upper and lower-classmen voted you as captain for the school's team and you were over the moon. you immediately called your grandfather to tell him the great news and he was just as happy as you, forever and always your number one supporter. since you became captain you’ve pushed yourself to and over your limit, challenging yourself in any way possible to make sure you were always at your best. many late nights were spent at the rink until your legs hurt so much you weren’t sure you’d be able to walk back to your dorm. you made sure the team was as best as they possibly could be, some members thought you were a bit harsh but never challenged you. after all, you had won them gold three times in a row for the first time in years.

the only conflict you had ever had in your four years of being a student at TMTC was with the hockey team. ironic seeing as your sports were the most similar of any other sport on campus but the rumor of all hockey players seemed true, they were dicks. especially the co-captains Suguru and Satoru. they didn’t seem to take your sport seriously, always taunting you whenever they’d see you. snide comments about your figure when they’d see you at practice or remarks about the uniforms you and the team wore. you wouldn’t go as far as to say you hate them (that’s just not you) but you weren’t particularly fond of them. they constantly got on your nerves, their deep boisterous laughs making your eye twitch whenever you heard them.

they ground your gears so much you just tried your best to avoid them. it wasn’t that hard seeing as you all lived on opposite sides of campus and in the two classes you had with Suguru, you sat closest to the wall while he sat dead center with his loud friends. Suguru was smart, extraordinarily so, which is exactly why you didn’t understand why he was such an asshole. you truly believed you two could be great friends but he was so rude it turned you away almost immediately. you never understood why he was so mean to you. the first time you had met you were all smiles and kind waves, you went to introduce yourself to him and he shot you down.

the coaches of both teams had called a meeting for all new team members. it was a run down of the rules and regulations, anti-harassment, anti-bullying, non-discrimination. so much that has done for you. after the meeting was over the coaches gave you the choices of either leaving or the opportunity to mingle. you took the chance to mingle, forever a social butterfly, going up to many different people. some of the girls from your team were a little hostile but open to talking, the hockey boys well… if they didn’t try to hit on you they mostly seemed uninterested in the conversation. making your rounds you finally ended up in front of Suguru and Satoru. Satoru had looked you up and down before walking away, hadn’t even given you the time. holding your hand out for Suguru to shake, you smiled at him.

“hi, i’m Y/N.” he stared at you before mumbling under his breath. you thought he was going to say something to you but Satoru had called after him, saying something about pizza. Suguru placed the cup he was drinking out of in your hand and walked over to his best friend. “o-oh…” he looked back at you, your face stuck with your mouth open and eyes wide, shocked. a couple of times after you tried to approach him, trying your best to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he’s not so mean. time and time again he proved you wrong. you would bring in gifts for the team, snacks for practice, water, anything they’d need. everyone was always so grateful, Satoru had even said thank you maybe a handful of times. Suguru had never even muttered anything.

you kept trying, ever the people pleaser, finding different ways to appease him, if you noticed he seemed to enjoy something more than another you would bring it in more. you would try to catch up to him after practice, spark up a conversation, he never seemed to care enough. you couldn’t understand why you were so obsessed with making him like you. maybe it was because growing up you always made sure everyone liked you, never leaving the house with a hair out place, always bending over backwards to make sure everyone was at least content with you. maybe it was because you couldn’t function if you felt like there was any sort of scrutiny upon your character. maybe you were so obsessed with making him like you because you had a little crush- no, no way. you kept up, trying so hard to get on his good side. it took up until one night, one night and the fixation fell. you were walking out after a long day of practice, he was in front of you, looking down on his phone.

“hey!” you yelled after him, starting in a little jog to catch up to him. he stopped for a second as you stepped next to him. “hi.” you were panting a little bit, breaths coming out in clouds due to the cold air. the snow that was falling landed in your eyelashes, you were smiling at him, so bright and wide, you looked so cute. cuter than anyone Suguru has seen before. “um, i saw a spin you did back there when you were practicing. i was wondering if maybe you could show it to me. i’ve seen some other skaters on your team do it before too, it’s really cool and i was hoping i could take it back to my team and show them.” you looked up at him, hopeful.

“yeah, no.”

“oh. please? i’d really appreciate it.” you flashed him with that bright smile of yours. he was tempted to say yes, so tempted. if he did teach you maybe he could make you smile more. smile at him.

“i said no.” you pouted, he was walking away before he turned back around to face you. your face lit back up, eyes sparkling, maybe he changed his mind? “and leave me alone, i notice the weird shit you do to get my attention. it’s annoying, stop.” your face dropped. he turned his back towards you again. after that day you did exactly what he said, left him alone. from that day on you’d begun avoiding him.

you’d done a great job at it too, for years you stayed out his way… until today.

it was another late night at the rink. wednesdays the rinks were always empty for mandatory deep cleaning, the captains would usually ask the manager of the building if they could borrow it on these nights to practice by themselves. there was a deal that the captains of the separate teams could have the rink every-other wednesday, tonight was your night. you were on your way into the rink, texting your friend Bri, she was telling you about how Satoru was staring at her from across the lecture hall. she was obsessed, it was odd seeing as you told her how much he got on your nerves and how he teased you in public. she didn’t seem to care too much.

as you were heading to the locker room you heard clinking coming from the ice, you had assumed it was the cleaning crew, they’d usually be finishing up right about now. lacing up your skates you finally put your phone down, over Bri’s delusions, you were too afraid to cut her off as a friend, scared of the potential consequences. walking to the rink, your guards scuffing against the floor as you dragged your feet, already feeling the pain in your legs. you were just about to sit down and take your guards off before you saw him. the infamous number two on his jersey moving against his body as he moved the hockey puck around with his customized stick.

“hey!” you yelled out through the windows separating the bleachers and the rink. “what are you doing?” he stopped just as he was about to hit the puck into the makeshift goal he mapped out in the corner. turning around to look at you with low eyes.

“what does it look like i’m doing?” he answered back, snarkily.

“it looks like you’re taking up my time.” you were annoyed, he knows this is your time, you’d even specified yesterday. talking just loudly enough for the hockey team to hear from across the rink, you knew they were listening in, they always do.

“your time?” he scoffed.

“yeah, my time.” you rolled your eyes. “listen, i don’t know how long you’ve been here but it’s long enough. i really don’t want to be mean or make this bigger than it is but i really need to practice. i’d really appreciate it if you left.” you gave him the kindest smile you could then sat down to take the guards off your skates.

“alright, princess, i was here first. that means i get the rink.” his arms were out at his side, gesturing to the rink. you shot back up quickly.

“no!” you exclaimed. “this is my night. you being here first doesn’t mean anything. and i told you to stop calling me that.” princess. the stupid nickname he had given you two years ago. you were leaving the rink after a meeting between the two teams, him and Satoru trailing behind laughing and giggling to each other. he’d tried calling after you, yelling your name a couple of times, you had ignored him, not wanting to deal with their antics. he yelled after you once more before the godforsaken nick-name fell from his lips. you stopped immediately, turning on your heels before telling him to not call you that. after that he made it a point to call you it whenever he could.

“first come first serve, princess.” your eye twitched.

“Geto-”

“what’s up with the formalities? can’t call me by my name?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“can you just leave?”

“i already told you-”

“i know what you told me and i’m telling you, it’s my night here and i’d like to practice now.” your tone was stern.

“no.” he stated simply. you guffawed.

“no?”

“no.” you took a deep breath before turning away.

“y’know what, nevermind.” beginning to walk away you heard the sound of his skates against the ice.

“you giving up that easily princess!?” he yelled after you. you turned back around to find him at the door of the rink, coming towards you.

“can you just not? i’m not in the mood for this today.” turning back around and trudging to the locker room. he caught up to you quickly - the advantage of having long legs - grabbing your arm. you pulled away immediately, walking away faster. at that he put out his stick, knocking it against the blade of your right skate, harder than he intended. you hit the ground before you could try to catch yourself. your knees took the brunt of the fall as well as your palms. turning over to sit down you felt a sharp pain in your ankle. as you lifted to assess it you heard a snap, yout foot fell ungracefully. looking down, a piece of the blade of your skate lay next to your shoe.

“shit.” Suguru muttered under his breath. “i- i’m sorry.” you wouldn’t look up at him, staring at your broken skate. he heard your shuddering breath before he saw a tear fall and soak into your stockings. “um- here, let me-”

“asshole.” he reached to help you up but you pulled away. unlacing your other skate and ripping it off, you shot up, grabbing your skates along with the broken blade, stumbling before quickly limping away. “you’re such a fucking asshole.” sniffling and wiping your face, you headed to the locker room. he followed after. “just go away.”

“stop being such a bitch and let me help you.” you stopped and whipped around to face him.

“i’m being bitch?” you questioned exasperatedly. “you broke my fucking skate and i’m being a bitch?!” he had never heard you speak so crudely. you’ve called him an asshole on multiple occasions, him and Satoru but he’d never heard you say fuck. it’s like you refused. “look at what you did! you’ve been torturing me since junior year and i’m the fucking bitch! do you know how much these cost?! how much new ones will cost?!” you were damn near hyperventilating, pacing back and forth.

“i’ll get you a new pair.” you scoffed and put your hands on your hips, facing the wall, the shoes in each one of your hands.

“you'll get me a new pair. you’ll get me a new pair?! do you even know where these came from?!” you were in distress, overwhelmed, Suguru seemed to have that effect on you. “you can’t just get me a new pair, Geto. i can’t believe you.” your voice broke. “i- i always knew you were a dick but i really didn’t you’d go so far to break my skates.”

“it’s really not that big of a deal.” he rolled his eyes.

“not a big deal?” you finally turned to face him, the look on your face did something to him, it actually made him feel… bad. “they were from my grandfather, he made them for me in junior year and the guy who made them closed shop the next year. you can’t get another pair.” shit. shit. he fucked up, bad. he was in too deep now, if he owned up to it now then that would means he’s wrong and Suguru Geto he never been wrong. well, not if you ever asked him.

“this wouldn’t have happened if you had just left.”

“it’s my night Geto, you knew that!”

“yeah well i needed the practice.”

“what the fuck did you think i needed?”

“come on, we both know which one of us is more important here.” you were pissing him off, he was deflecting.

“you can’t be serious.”

“i am. nobody takes you fucking serious, nobody cares about watching you parade around on the rink in your small little fucking skirts.” you looked up to the ceiling and nodded your head.

“right.” you turned away from him. “you’re right.” you walked away, he heard you go into the locker room and he went back to the ice. eventually he heard the front doors open and close.

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for the next three weeks he had not seen you come into your wednesday practices. he purposely came to the ones he knew you would be at but you had never showed up. he would wait until closing time, staying until the custodial staff would kick him out, you never appeared. he noticed you were in and out of your classes as well. you had the same classes together everyday, civics and economics, some days you would be there but have your head down and constantly checked your phone. other days you weren’t there at all. he had asked your professors if he could have your papers, to make sure you were getting them but each of them had replied that you didn’t need them, you were all caught up.

you didn’t come to your teams practices either, luckily you had always taught them the drills you came up with way beforehand. if Suguru had ever cared to look deeper into who you are (which he’d never admit that he did) he would maybe, possibly, just maybe own up to the fact that he might admire the way you carried yourself. you’re a great captain, an amazing skater, and an even better student. you’re just up there with him and Satoru. he’ll never tell you that though. he oftentimes wondered what you thought about him. did you think he was smart? a good skater? do you think he’s attractive? he wants to know if you think of him the way he thinks of you. he’ll never ask.

eventually you came back. two more weeks of not being there, then, he saw you again. you were in class, back at practice, running drills and laughing with your friends. but he noticed something different, you were more reserved, if you weren’t with your friends you weren’t with anyone at all. your smile didn’t reach your eyes like it usually did. after practice you left immediately, not waiting for everyone to leave like you usually did. you were out of the door before anybody could say bye. you weren’t you. Suguru looked after you, even if you weren’t aware, he did. he made sure when him and Satoru picked on you they never went too far. when he heard other guys on the team talk about you, he shut it down almost immediately. Suguru cared, he’d never outright show it or tell you but he did.

even now that you’re back you still weren’t coming to your wednesday practices. at some point he stopped going for “practice” and would wait for you to walk through the doors. you never did. he got around to asking one of your teammates, Yari, where you had been. she told him you found a new rink, a better one. apparently you knew the manager well and he would give you the space for two nights a week. she had said you lucked out, the rink was spacious and had more to offer. Suguru thanked Yari by finger-fucking her in the back office. she walked out dazed with a blissed out smile on her face while he sat… disgusted. he didn’t even like her. he didn’t like a lot of the girls he slept with, he just did. building up a reputation of one of the best fucks on campus, besides Satoru of course.

he’s always wanted one girl. he’s always wanted you but you’ve never paid him any mind. around campus he’s heard about you, the boyfriend you had in junior year, how much he hurt you and how you swore off relationships after. choosing to focus on school like you had promised yourself you would once entering the university. Suguru had a girlfriend, plenty of them. they never lasted, he couldn’t stay tied down to one girl. eyes always wandering. he broke up with them before it got too serious. he liked them enough to get with them just… not enough to stay.

walking into class you were heading to, looking at your phone checking your grandfather's location to make sure he was home like you told him to be. stopping in your tracks when you came across big black combat boots. looking up he had an all black outfit to match, like usual. his hair was down in a low bun, some strands framing his face. rolling your eyes and breathing out a sigh as you looked at him.

“what do you want?” sitting up in his - your - seat he sat down his pencil on the desk.

“you weren’t here.” he shrugged.

“so you took my seat?” he could see the annoyance bleeding onto your face.

“it’s not like you were here to stop me.” you just looked at him like he was stupid.

“fine.” moving away and three rows behind him, you plopped down into a random desk. he grabbed all his stuff and took up the desk next to you. you looked at him before looking away and to the window. your leg started bouncing up and down. “you just don’t give up do you?”

“give up what?”

“what do you want, Geto?” you turned towards him. “what do you want? you want me to cry again? you want me to grovel?”

“no. i just-”

“then what?”

“i was gonna say sorry but never-fucking-mind.”

“you were gonna say sorry?” you laughed in his face. “that’s a good joke, Geto.” for some reason that got on his nerves.

“what? i can’t apologize?”

“it’s not that you can’t. you don’t.” you’re right. “i don’t care anyway. so even if you do, it doesn’t matter.” he didn’t know what to say so for the rest of class he sat in silence. when the bell rang you packed your things up and left quickly. it was the last class of the day and he watched the direction you went in, he knew where you were headed so he followed. when you walked into the rink it was completely empty. you stopped in your tracks.

“all practices were canceled today.”

“you’re telling me now?”

“you didn’t get the email?”

“obviously not, Geto.” turning to leave you push past him but he grabs your arm. looking up into those brown eyes of his you try to pull away but he grips harder. “can you let go now?”

“why do you act like that?” you look at him confused.

“act like what.”

“like you hate me.”

“maybe cause i do.” you rip away from him, heading to the doors. he quickly catches up and blocks you from leaving. you let out a huff and try to push past him. “move.”

“you don’t hate me.”

“why wouldn’t i?” you look up at him. “hm? you make fun of my uniforms. you always say my drills suck. you and Satoru make fun of my team and my sport. you comment on the way i skate. hell, you broke my skates. skates i can’t get back. so why wouldn’t i?”

“hate isn’t in your vocabulary.” he states, simply. he’s right, it’s not but would you let him know that?

“yeah? how would you know?” he stared at you, questioning whether you did hate him or not. you were right, how would he know? pulling away from him you turn towards the locker rooms, if practice was canceled here today you would go somewhere else. he watched you for a second, contemplating leaving before he followed after you quickly. grabbing your things from your locker you watched him walk into the women’s locker room. “you’re not supposed to be in here-” he rushed over to you and before you could finish your sentence, his lips covered yours. his kiss was rough, lips moving over yours hurriedly, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. your arms stayed at your side and your eyes were wide. you pushed him away, making space between your bodies. “what is wrong with you?” you were panting, chest rising and falling quickly.

he moved in again, lips back on yours, this time you didn’t pull away. your bag fell off your shoulders and your new skates fell to the ground. your lips met his harshly, your fingers tangling in his hair. you pulled him down towards you, hunching him over. his hands slid around your waist to grip onto your shirt. he pushed you back into the lockers, the metal clanging as your body met them, he quickly spun you around, your torso pressing into the metal. he sucked on your ear and trailed wet kisses down your neck, the metal ball of his tongue piercing trailing down your skin. he panted into your skin as he ground his hardening cock on your ass.

“if you’re gonna fuck me Geto, get it over with.” you breathed. his hand wrapped around your neck, arching your back and resting your head against his shoulder.

“is that how you should talk to me? i’ll leave you right here.”

“your loss.” you shrugged, pushing him away to grab your things. before you could stray too far he pushed you back against the lockers. he made quick work of unbuttoning his pants and tugging them down just below his dick then, he pulled down your sweatpants, they pooled around your ankles. he ground his cock into your backside and groaned into your neck. his precum dripped on your back as he humped your ass. “hurry up.” you grumbled. sliding his tip through your folds, he pressed into your hole, sliding in only the tip before slipping back out. he did this over and over again until you were huffing in annoyance.

behind you, his face was beet red. he was panting, teasing you and himself in hopes of dragging this out for as long as he possibly could. finally over it, you stamped your foot down, ready to completely push him off of you. he didn’t give you the chance, stuffing his cock all the way into you at once, shuffling forward to press his entire body into yours. you yelped out as his entire length throbbed in you, shaping your ways to accommodate for every ridge and vein. he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken, so thick you’re sure your walls are stretched to the fullest and so long you could feel him in your throat.

“oh, fuck.” he moaned behind you. his heart was pounding in over-exertion. he was focusing so hard on trying not to cum so soon. he gave you time to adjust and time for himself to calm down before he busted before he even started. he groaned into your neck as you clenched around him, trying to get used to his girth.

“fuck, move.”

“you sure?”

“please, come on, just move Geto.” he nodded his head. giving one exploratory thrust, trying to gauge how you feel, how he'd feel. he moaned as his cock moved in and out of you. he could already feel the coil winding up within his lower stomach, he wasn’t gonna last. he thrust again, a whimper escaping his lips. your eyebrows raised at the noise. he whimpered. he started to develop a rhythm, hips moving languidly against yours. his hands moved up your body, gripping your boobs through your shirt, you’re not wearing a bra. he pinched your nipples through your shirt and a noise escaped your lips. the prettiest moan fell from your lips.

he angled his hips differently and he hit that certain spot in you just right. a louder moan exited your mouth and he whimpered at it. your moans are so pretty, so pretty they made his dick throb. little “ah, ah, ah’s” left your lips at each thrust, everything about him took over your entire being. all you could feel was his hands on your body, all you could smell was his cedarwood and vanilla cologne. you were drowning in him, every sense revolved around him. Suguru couldn’t feel anything else besides your tight walls gripping him. you were so tight around him his eyes rolled back. he’d never been so vocal before, let alone whined to a girl he was fucking.

you brought something in him, something he didn’t know existed. a need. a need for him to express how good you’re making him feel. “faster.” he shook his head against your shoulder. “come on, Geto, faster.”

“i can’t, fuck,” he whined. “i’ll cum, i’ll fucking cum and it’ll all be over.”

“already?” you moaned out a scoff. “i’m not even close, Geto.” he thrust into you faster. his length continuously brushing over you g-spot. one hand that was gripping your boob moved down to rub circles over your clit. his fingers were nimble and quick but messy. the circles are uncoordinated but good enough to make your thighs shake. you're so wet it's dripping down your thighs and getting on his, his hand is soaked now.

“stop calling me that.” he whined. “say my name.”

“that is your name-”

“no. my name please.” he sounded so pretty whining for you.

“Suguru.” he moaned. “i’m gonna cum, Suguru.” you were the one whining now.

“please.” he rubbed your clit faster, hurriedly thrusting into you. you met him thrust for thrust, moving with him. “fuck, just like that, princess.” the claps of skin on skin could be heard throughout the locker room. you pray to whatever God out there that no one is here. “i’m gonna cum, i need you to first.” he licked a stripe up your neck, leading to your ear before he bit at your lobe. his nose pressed into your ear and he panted into your skin, harsh breaths against you. all the stimulation was getting to you, his fingers rubbing at your clit, his other hand grabbing your boob, his mouth breathing heavily against you and biting at you. the final straw was when he moved his hand from your chest to your neck, squeezing slightly, just enough to make your breathing labored and make you dizzy. your head fell to his shoulder and you dear damn screamed out as you came.

your thighs shook violently as you creamed around Suguru. the essence of your orgasm dripping down his cock. his mouth dropped open as he felt you clench and unclench around him. he moaned out as he felt his own orgasm creeping up on him. “pull out.” you whimpered. “Suguru, pull out.” he didn’t want to, God, he didn’t want to. finally building up enough strength, he pulled out. his hand wrapped around his tip, jerking his cock quickly, your wetness helping his hand glide smoothly up and down his skin. the first spurt of his cum landed on your back, the warm fluid dripped down your back. the rest came and he moaned with each one. his chest heaved as he came, possibly the hardest he has since his first time, maybe better than that. there was so much of it too, long thick strings painted on your back. he removed his grip from his dick and ran his thumb through the small puddle on your back, smearing it across your skin.

“that was…” he huffed out a breath, smiling up at the roof.

“yeah, let’s not talk about it.” you were quick to pull up your pants.

“what?” Suguru followed after, pulling up his pants, buttoning them, and buckling his belt. “i thought- i thought it was good. you thought it was good right?” you gathered all your things and headed to the door.

“it was fine.”

“just fine?” you were rushing to the front door. “come on, it was more than just fine. Y/N, look at me.” you kept going, not sparing him a glance. “come on.” he reached out for you, grabbing your shoulder and turning you to him. “look at me.”

“for what?!” you yelled at him. “for what? it happened. you can go brag about it.”

“you think i’m gonna brag about it?”

“that’s what you do, Geto. you fuck some girl and go tell the team about it or some boy in your frat. next thing you know the whole school knows about it and that girls just some whore. i’ve gone this fucking long without being caught up in this shit and you corner me once now i’m one of them.” tears built up in your eyes. “at least give me the courtesy of not saying my name.” you walked away from him, leaving him to stand alone, stunned.

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Geto didn’t tell anyone. it’s been two weeks and he hasn’t muttered a single word about what happened in the rink. he didn’t even tell Satoru, the only person in the world he tells everything. ever since it happened you wouldn’t even look at him. if he caught your eyes you would immediately cast yours down. you went back to avoiding him and he hated it, he fucked up. he still can’t explain what came over him that night, he doesn’t know why it happened but he can’t take it back now. he thought it would open the door for something, some way in for him. it didn’t.

one of your friends, Reí, had noticed something was up with you. you were quieter, there was this awkward air to you. she approached you one day when you were leaving class.

“hey, what’s up with you?” you were heading to the quad, it was lunch time and you had some extra work you’d like to get done, you figured fresh air would be good for you.

“nothings up with me.” you chuckled awkwardly. you took a seat on a bench under a shady tree. the sky was a little muted today, the fall season in full effect, it wasn’t a bright day like it usually would be. the sky not a bright blue and the sun not shining as much as it would. it seemed as though the earth was reflecting your mood.

“come on, Y/N/N, be honest with me.” she laughed. “what’s up?” you huffed a bit as you looked over your campus. a gust of wind blew past you, blowing your hair over your shoulder.

“i fucked up.” you whispered.

“you? you never fuck up.” Reí tried to joke.

“i did, i do. i- i don’t know.” you began to pick at your nails.

“what happened?” you sighed before turning to look her in her eyes.

“there’s this guy.”

“a guy?”

“yeah.”

“so… what about this guy? do you like him? is that it, you like a guy?”

“no. i don’t like this guy, that’s the problem.”

“well Y/N/N, i don’t think it’s that much of a problem. you don’t like him, it can’t be that serious. right?”

“we fucked.”

“oh!”

“we fucked and i don’t know what to do.” you sobbed, tears running down your face. Reí moved closer and pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you and petting your hair. she shushed you as you cried into her neck. “i don’t do that type of thing and- and ever since J i haven’t done anything and then this one guy comes out of nowhere and just fucks it all up!”

“it’s ok, we all have flings in college, it’s cool.”

“no! it’s not just a fling, Reí, i hate this guy.” your sentences came out in broken sobs. “that was never supposed to happen and now when everyone finds out they’re gonna think i’m some slut for letting it happen.” you pulled back to look at her, your lower lip trembling as you spoke.

“why would anybody think that?” she tucked pieces of your hair behind your ear and wiped your tears.

“cause that’s what everybody thinks.” you looked down and played with your hands. “everyone here thinks all the girls here who have sex are nasty.” you looked back up to her. “i don’t wanna be nasty.” you pouted.

“aww, baby, no one’s gonna think you’re nasty.”

“yes they will.” you nodded at her. “you should’ve heard what they said when me and J broke up. he told them what we did. he told them i let him take my virginity and everyone called me really mean names.” you swallowed harshly. “it took months for everyone to forget about that, until the next thing happened everyone was so mean. i didn’t even do anything! i thought i was just being a good girlfriend.”

“what do you mean?” she gave you a puzzled look.

“J wanted to have sex.” you looked into her eyes. “i told him i wasn’t ready but he told me everyone else was doing it. he said that we should too and i’d be the best girlfriend. i didn’t even know what i was supposed to do.”

“Y/N/N he didn’t… did he?”

“no. i told him it was ok but i regretted it after. he got mad i didn’t wanna do anything anymore so he broke up with me.” another tear trailed down your face. “he told almost everyone. all the girls laughed at me and all they guys called me a prude. said i wasn’t even worth it.”

“he was a dick, Y/N/N. he wasn’t worth it and i’m so sorry that happened.” you shrugged at her. “but, what does this have to do with this guy?” she tilted her head, her pretty brown hair falling over her shoulder.

“cause he’s a dick too. he’s a dick and i know he’s gonna tell everyone.”

“how long ago was it?”

“like… two weeks ago?”

“well, i haven’t heard anything and y’know, most guys wouldn’t wait two weeks to start telling everyone who he fucked, right?”

“i guess.”

“look, i know this is a lot to think about, how about we get your mind off it. let’s go get some lunch, on me?” she was hopeful, she didn’t want to watch you sulk, you’re one of the best and brightest people she knows. you shook your head.

“i have some stuff to do.” you whispered.

“ok. fine, ok. you want me to sit with you?”

“no. i wanna be alone if that’s ok.”

“sure. just- just let me know if you need anything, yeah? i’m always here.” you gave her a nod and she leant down to give you a peck on the forehead before she walked away. she’d always been a good friend to you. looking back out to the campus, you saw his familiar black hair, in a half up half down style now. he walked with some girl - Yari, from your team - he was walking her to the science building and once they reached the front doors, she turned around and smiled at him. they spoke for a bit before he grabbed her by her chin, pulling her to him and planting a kiss on her lips. once he let go she looked up to him, her eyes sparkling.

your heart clenched.

getting up and gathering your things you stormed off and towards your dorm. retreating there for the rest of the day.

Suguru didn’t mean to get involved with Yari. really, it just… happened. he was upset about the situation between you two and she just so happened to be there. the only reason he’s stayed talking to her for this long is because in some way, she reminds him of you. the way her eyes light up when she looks at him, as if he’s hung the moon and the stars, it reminds him of how you used to look at him way back when. before he fucked you over. before he was so mean to you, how your eyes would shine when you looked at him. if he squinted just enough when looking at her, he could see you. ever since that night in the rink, he’s only wanted to see you. to feel you again, to hold you. his hands have been itching to grab for you whenever you two cross paths. not having you is like living hell. he hates it.

finally leaving Yari, he turns around to head to his own class. making his way across the quad he sees a figure hurriedly walking in some direction. when he looks over at it, he recognizes it’s you. he wants to follow you, so bad. but he knows he shouldn’t, if he did you’d probably have his head on a stake.

----------------

another week had passed before you started feeling somewhat like yourself again. Reí had decided to take you out a couple of days ago. she took you to the diner not too far off campus, you two talked over milkshakes and french fries. she didn’t pry too much but talking to her made you feel like you had a weight lifted off your chest. it felt great. practice was canceled again today, something about one of the coaches having a family emergency, so the rink was free for the day.

you decided to take it over for the night. one of the custodians told you no one was coming in tonight so you were free to have it. you were trying to get one specific move down, the same one you’ve been trying to learn since freshman year. it was a move all hockey players used. a hockey stop, simple yet, you’d once seen Suguru spin and come to a full hockey stop. you’d wondered how he did it. while your sports were similar there was a clear difference between them. figure skaters were gentle with their movements and it took more agility to follow through with them. hockey players were more aggressive. hockey was about defense and brutality, the players were more up-front and they lacked flexibility.

while you were a figure skater, you did appreciate hockey and had taken a liking to practicing their moves. you’d even introduced some into the choreography of your team, giving some contrast to the ensemble. the harshness of the hockey moves plus the gentleness of figure skating make for a beautiful scene. you’ve mastered the hockey stop, it’s an easy move but when you had watched Suguru do a complete 360 and come to the stop it was something you had wanted to do as well. while you’d seen him do it years ago it never really left your head and with the new choreography you were coming up with, you wanted to include the move.

you were getting closer, you think. well, it was better than before. at first you had completely busted your ass, sliding along the ice and hurting your chin. now most times when you fell, you went down slower. able to catch yourself before you fell on your ass again. as you were practicing you fell again, sitting down and huffing out a breath. the ice nipped at your legs through your tights and you sat for a second, looking up at the roof before looking down to play with your hands. what you hadn’t noticed was a guest within the seats, watching you as you tried to ace the move over, and over again.

“you’re putting too much weight on your back foot.” your head shot around quickly, turning to face the booming voice. you rolled your eyes when you looked at him. there he stood, 6 '2'' stature wearing all black, his arms at his side and his jet black hair falling over his wide shoulders.

“can you just go away?”

“can i help you?” the question was genuine, he wanted to help. and maybe spend time with you.

“no.”

“why not?”

“cause i don’t want your help.” you deadpanned. Suguru got up and walked away, you thanked God he chose to adhere to your request. getting back up, you went to the other side of the rink, skating yourself across the ice. you turned backwards and put your left leg out, turning into a camel spin, both your arms placed straight out to your sides. bringing your leg back down for an upright spin, putting an abrupt stop to the turn you jut out your right leg for the hockey stop. just as you thought you had gotten it, you fell back onto your palms. sitting back down and heaving out another sigh, you were ready to give up for the day. just as you were ready to go, you heard the doors to the rink being opened. you turned to see Suguru walking onto the ice. falling out and splaying yourself along the ice you groaned quite dramatically.

“get up.” he stood over you.

“i told you to go away.” you looked to him, one eye closed as the light shined in it.

“i told you i was going to help.”

“i don’t need your help. i’m done.” you sat up, getting on your knees to stand up fully. Suguru grabbed your arm pulling you up and into him. “can you get off of me?” instead of responding, he started skating to the opposite side of the rink, dragging you along with him. once you reached the corner, he let go.

“show me.” he gestured to the rink.

“yeah, i’d rather not.” you were going to walk away but he grabbed you and turned you towards the open space of the rink.

“you want to get it down right? show me.” his voice was soft as he spoke to you. you contemplated for a second. you could leave and go home or you could get help from the person who inspired the move. going home seemed like a really good option. getting into position, you started skating before doing just as you had done before, camel into an upright spin and full hockey stop. once again tipping over and landing on your ass. “like i said, you’re putting too much weight on your back foot, that’s why you keep falling back. and you can’t just stop, it’s too much force, you need to build up some sort of momentum so there’s something to combat the weight of your body.” his arms were crossed over his chest as he spoke to you, muscles bulging even through his black shirt. you were staring at the veins in his hands before you quickly brought your eyes up to his then looked away.

“sure.” taking up your spot next to him you did as he said, once again a camel into an upright spinning and once your right foot met the ice again, you gave yourself a slight push before coming into the hockey stop. this time you didn’t fall onto your ass, landing on one of your knees instead. slightly better.

“you’re not compensating enough for your own weight, look.” Suguru started his own skate and turned into a spin, not exactly an upright one but close enough. as the turn came to a close, he pushed himself forward again, quite harshly, before stopping. “see, you need a counter for yourself. just stopping isn’t enough to carry you. now you do it.” this time when you did it, following through with an extra push, you didn’t fall. instead you had tripped forward and bumped into the wall. “now you’re putting too much weight on your front foot. you need to find a balance. do we have to run first year training drills?”

“i’m not some freshman, Geto. i know what i’m doing.” you snapped.

“do you?” you stared at him quizzically before giving up.

“nevermind. i’m done.” walking away you headed to the door.

“wait.” you paused. “i- i don’t mean to be rude or anything. i’m actually trying to help.”

“you think you’re gonna help by demeaning my skill set? i’m captain for a reason.”

“i’m not trying to. i’m captain too, remember?”

“we play two different sports.”

“yeah, and you’re trying to perfect one of my moves. let me help you.”

“i can do it by myself.” you turned to face him.

“i’m not saying you can’t. but i know it pretty well and i can show you how to do it.” you stared at him blankly. “listen, if… if i help you get this right, you can teach me some moves from your team.” that got your attention.

“really?”

“yeah.” you slowly skated to him.

“ok.” for the next hour, Suguru had shown you how to incorporate a hockey stop into your routine. you had finally gotten to a point where you didn’t fall at all. the move could use a little work but it was way better than what you had before. once you had finally gotten it, you were so excited you jumped with glee, somehow making your way into Sugurus arms. his large arms had wrapped around you as you hugged him. when you noticed where you were, you immediately backed out of his embrace.

“sorry.”

“it’s fine.” you began to slowly skate backwards.

“i should go now, it’s pretty late.” your voice came out quietly and you pointed behind you. Suguru began to skate toward you.

“or, we can stay, practice a little longer?”

“i- um, i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“why not?” he was in front of you. you had skated yourself so far back and somehow, into a wall.

“cause.”

“because?” there’s a small space left between your bodies and Suguru had reached forward, pulling you into him, he leaned down, inching his face closer to yours. “because what?” he whispered against your lips.

“cause- um,” he pressed himself closer to you, torso to torso. “cause-” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as he gently pressed his lips to yours. you sighed into his mouth as your lips met. you wrapped your arms around his neck, falling into him as you breathed him in. he deepened the kiss, parting your lips with his own and sliding his tongue against yours. you moaned into his mouth and he groaned against yours. suddenly, reality hit you and you pulled away. “what is wrong with you?”

“huh?”

“don’t act dumb, Geto, oh my God. i- i can’t.”

“can’t what?” you pressed a hand to your forehead and began to skate away.

“what are you gonna tell your girlfriend?”

“girlfriend? i- i don’t-”

“what?” you turned back to him. “she doesn’t have to know? don’t give me that.”

“Y/N, what fucking girlfriend are you talking about.”

“Yari!” you exhaled, exasperated.

“Yari’s not my girlfriend.”

“so you’ve been doing this with her too? what, you fucked her in the locker room like you did me? does your girlfriend know about her-”

“i don’t have a girlfriend!” he yelled over you.

“then why do i always see you with Yari?!”

“see me with her? i’m never with her.”

“yes you are, Suguru! you’re always with her! i see you parading around campus with her, walking her to class, sitting out on the quad with her. she- she comes to practice talking about you.” you began picking at your nails.

“i-” he didn’t know what to say, you’re right, he’s always with her. it’s not his choice, she just follows him around everywhere. he told her to leave him alone last week but she swore they had something special, that she loved him and knew he loved her too. talk about delusional.

“so i’m right?” you scoffed. deciding to exit from the conversation, you began to skate to the exit. Suguru quickly caught up, grabbing your hand, he turned you to him.

“you’re wrong.” you just stared at him, a glazed over look in your eye. “she’s not my girlfriend. yeah, ok, we did something but that was it. i fucked with her for a while but i told her i didn’t like her, she just- she won’t leave me alone. i don’t have a girlfriend, at all. i don’t want one.”

“so what’s this supposed to be?” you gestured between the two of you with your free hand.

“i didn’t mean it like that.”

“then what did you mean?”

“Satoru’s having a thing tomorrow night,”

“i don’t do parties.”

“it’s not a party,” he rushed out. “Satoru said it’s just a little get together with some friends. can you stop by? maybe we can talk then?” you wanted to say no, there’s nothing to talk about but your mind didn’t have time to catch up with your body. you were nodding your head before a word could be muttered. “ok.” he let go of your hand, it was then that you realized your fingers were intertwined.

when you finally got back to your room that night, you screamed into a pillow. every pent up emotion that was building inside of you from spending so much time with Suguru escaping as you yelled. you couldn’t believe you let him get to you, again. and you can’t believe you agreed to meet him tomorrow night. what was wrong with you.

----------------

the next day flew by, your classes went by smoothly, Suguru staring at you from across the room in the ones you had together. practice was a little rushed, it was a friday and a break was coming up, everyone was excited to get out. now you sat in your dorm, staring at your phone as the time ticked by. it was 7:23, Suguru never gave you a time to show up. what time were you supposed to come? were you already late? would he be mad? you sat for another hour, finally leaving the comfort of your room and heading across campus to the frat house.

walking up to the house, lights were flashing and music was booming. people were sitting outside, all huddled up because of the cold, passing around a blunt. “so much for a ‘small get together.’” you muttered to yourself. approaching the front door, you walked in and were immediately hit with the smell of a college party. sweaty bodies jumped and rubbed against each other, others were making out somewhere in a corner. looking over the area, you tried to spot his tall stature and black hair. when you didn’t see him you moved into the crowd. walking through the people and moving to the kitchen, you grabbed a water bottle before going back to searching around. after searching for a while, you gave up, finding one of his frat brothers instead. “have you seen Suguru?” he looked you up and down before responding.

“you that crazy bitch?”

“huh?”

“you that crazy bitch?” he said, more pointedly.

“what crazy bitch?”

“what’s her name? um, she’s on the figure team.”

“Yari?”

“yeah! that’s you?”

“i’m not Yari.” he squinted his eyes before shrugging.

“upstairs, second door to the left. knock.” that’s all he said before turning to walk over to a group of girls, they all looked at you weird before he approached them. going up the stairs, you almost made it to the top before you saw him. his broad stature leaned against a wall, hair tied back in a bun, his arms crossed over his chest as he spoke. he sat talking to some girl, eyes hooded as he looked at her, a smirk on his face. you stared at the two, her short brown hair falling to one side as she tilted her head. walking back down the steps, especially quiet so they wouldn’t hear you, you headed back to the kitchen. you leaned against the counter, gripping the sides. ok, if he wants to be all over every girl, you can be all over every guy.

stomping out of the kitchen you looked around before making your way to the makeshift dance floor. you slipped in between the bodies, finding your way to the middle. settling into the people grinding on each other, you tapped the shoulder of some random guy, Haibara his name is, another brother of the frat, you asked if he wanted to dance. he looked between you and the girl he was dancing with before completely turning to you, letting out and enthusiastic, “sure!” you heard the girl mutter something before she walked away angrily. turning around, you pulled the boy closer to you, pressing your ass to his crotch, you heard a stuttered breath escape his lips.

you placed his hands on your hips and swayed slowly, grinding against him to the beat of the song. you saw Suguru make his way down the steps slowly, one arm hanging over the shoulder of the girl, they laughed together loudly. out of spite, you dragged one of Haibara's hands up your body slowly. his breathing grew heavier behind you. you knew he was shy, one of the more reserved brothers of the frat. he only joined because Satoru and Suguru made Nanami join and by association, him. you felt bad, you weren’t sure what he was comfortable with and here you were making him feel you up. he didn’t seem to care though, pulling you closer and laying his forehead on your shoulder. Suguru saw you from across the room, eyes locking onto you and the figure behind you. you saw him whisper something in the girl's ear and she looked over too, she gestured to you and Haibara, Suguru kissed her forehead quickly and let go.

he quickly made his way over to you two. when he reached you, he grabbed your forearm and pulled you away from the brunette boy. “hey- oh! what’s up Suguru.” Haibara smiled.

“nothing.” he dragged you along with him as he walked away, taking you to the steps.

“let go of me.” you tried to pull away but his grip grew more firm. “Suguru let go-” he spun you around when you reached the first step pushing you up against the wall. people around stared for a while before going back to minding their business.

“Haibara?” he questioned, his nostril flaring as he breathed.

“what?”

“i come downstairs cause someone told me you’re looking for me and i catch you fucking with Haibara?”

“why does it matter?” you rolled your eyes.

“cause it fucking does.”

“but it doesn’t matter when it’s you though, right?”

“what are you talking about.”

“i go upstairs to find you and i see you laughing and giggling with some girl? the same thing with Yari. it’s cool when you do it, right?”

“some girl?” he stared at you for a second before he started laughing.

“what’s so funny?” he continued to laugh, damn near hunched over now.

“aww, princess.” he stood back up, you glared at him. “you jealous?”

“jealous?” you said incredulously. “why would i be jealous of anything you do?”

“that was Ieiri, princess, my best friend.”

“oh…”

“yeah and i told you i don’t like Yari.”

“you don’t act like it.” was your quick reply.

“ok.” he stepped back. “go upstairs.”

“for?” he stepped back into your personal space.

“go upstairs, when i get up there i want you sitting down in just that pretty little set i know you have on for me.” he whispered in your ear. your face felt like it was on fire.

“i- i don’t have on a set.”

“i know you do, princess.” he walked away, going to the kitchen, before he passed the threshold he looked back to you, raising his eyebrow at you. you turned around and walked up the steps, going straight to his room. once you entered, you contemplated for a second, would you really do this? yes. you took off your shirt first, letting it fall to the floor, you fixed the cups of your pretty bra before unbuttoning your pants. you let them pool around your ankles before kicking them off. you sat on the bed, tucking your legs under yourself and placing your hands on your knees. you sat there for maybe two minutes picking at your thumbs. the door opened and you jumped a bit.

Suguru entered with two water bottles in his hands and something wrapped up. he smiled when he saw you sitting so prettily on his bed. you stood out against his dark sheets. the bright pale blue and pinks of your lingerie contrasting with his dark gray bedspread. “you look so pretty like that.” he sat the things in his hands down and walked over to you, cupping his hand under your chin and tilting your head up. he ran the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down and then letting it pop back up into place. he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, it quickly grew messy, “open.” he murmured against your lips. you parted your lips, looking up to him with wide eyes. he let a glob of spit from his mouth fall into yours. “swallow.” he watched your throat bob up and down, you could taste the fruit punch he drank earlier. he tasted sweet. “sit back and spread your legs for me.” you looked up at him as he stood back up, leaning himself against his dresser. “you gonna do it or do i have to make you?”

you crawled up to his headboard slowly on all fours, he watched you, his cock twitching in his pants as he watched you ass sway side to side. he cleared his throat as you settled against his pillows. you spread your legs for him, watching him from across the room. “what do you want me to do?” you asked in a whisper.

“i want you to fuck yourself on you fingers like you do when you think of me.”

“i-”

“what?”

“i don’t think of you.”

“come on, princess, we both know you do. why else would you get your panties in a twist when you see me with another girl?” you sighed, looking down at yourself. “pull those pretty little panties to the side and spread yourself open on your fingers.”

“ok.” you whispered. your fingers twitched nervously, not sure what to do with him staring at you.

“just pretend i’m not here, pretty girl, it’s ok.” you nodded your head. everything around you was so irrecoverably him, the sheets were soft against him and smelled like him, so warm. if you focused hard enough you could hear his breathing from across the room. closing your eyes you began to slowly trail your fingers down your body, hyper aware of your own touch. you dragged your fingers back up your stomach and to your chest, cupping your boobs through your bra. “take it off.” you obliged, quickly unclipping the offending garment and letting it fall off the side of the bed. “fuck.” you could hear the sound of a zipper and some shuffling. pinching your nipples you let out a soft sound, tweaking both of them between your thumb and forefinger. letting one hand trail down your body again, you dragged it down and began to run circles over your clit on top of your underwear.

“Suguru.” you moaned softly. he groaned at the noise. you slipped your hand into your underwear, the stimulation sent sparks up your spine. dragging your fingers down to your hole, you circled it before slipping your middle finger in. you could hear a wet noise coming from where he is and the idea of him pulling on his cock to your fingering yourself pulled a moan out of you. slipping another finger into yourself, you moved them faster, the pads of them rubbing against your walls.

“go faster. wanna hear it.” he panted. wanted to hear it..? oh. oh. he wanted to hear the sound of your wetness as you fucked yourself. your back arched as you fucked yourself faster. your other hand continued to tweak at your nipple. you moaned out as you felt your stomach clench.

“Suguru! i’m gonna cum!” your toes curled and you whimpered. you could hear his stuttered breathing and he jerked himself off.

“let me see, pull your panties down.” he panted. your hand quickly moved to tug the gusset of your panties to the side. Suguru watched your fingers move in and out of you. his dream was finally coming true, the one girl he wanted was splayed out on his bed, fucking herself on her fingers, moaning out his name. his orgasm was building up quickly, he was going to bust everywhere from just watching you. you clenched around your fingers, mouth dropping open as you orgasm washed over you. you arched off the bed, moaning Sugurus name over and over again. he watched as you came, the way your essence dripped around and seeped through your fingers, how your chest raised and fell as you breathed heavily. Suguru groaned as he played with his tip, thumb running over it and you looked at him when you heard the noise.

“Sugu,” you whined. “wanna see you cum,” his jaw dropped and a small noise escaped his lips. “please.” he came all over his hand and the floor. spurts of his cum falling from his tip and he groaned as he came. you’re gonna be the death of him. once he regrouped, he walked over to you, kneeling above you as he looked into your eyes. he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips and taking the two fingers that were just inside of you and putting them in his mouth. you moaned as he sucked on your fingers and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“you taste so good, princess.” your hand fell from his mouth back to your side. “wanna taste for myself, flip over.” you took too long to listen to him so he flipped you over himself. he had you on your hands and knees, back arched for him. he went behind you, watching your pretty pussy drip for him. “fuck.” he whispered to himself. one hand rubbed over your ass as the other pulled your panties down. you kicked them off completely and he sniffed them before dropping them off the bed. “count.”

“huh?” slap! one loud clap against your ass, you yelped out at the initial pain but it eventually turned into a pleasurable stinging sensation.

“count.” he said more firmly.

“one,” slap! “two,” slap! “three…” on and on he spanked you again and again. you counted all the way up to eleven before he let up. your ass stung from the spanking but the line between pleasure and pain was blurred. it hurt so bad it felt good. you whimpered when he circled his hands over your ass. before you could recognize what was going on, you felt a stripe being licked from your clit to your clenching hole. “Sugu!” you looked behind you to see him hunched over, sucking harshly on your clit as he spread your ass. another stripe licked up to your hole before he slipped his tongue in, you clenched around it, the cold metal of his piercing contrasted against the warmth of your walls and you swore you saw heaven. you shook as he fucked you with his tongue, falling onto your front your back arched perfectly for him as you pushed back against him.

the sounds were obscene, you could hear his tongue working against you and him groaning into your pussy. you moaned when he landed another slap to your ass, he gripped and jiggled it against his face. “oh my- fuck!” you squealed. he tongue licked and prodded against your walls as he ate you out. your thighs began to tremble, toes curling as your legs shook. his mouth moved down from your hole to your clit and you felt two of his fingers prodding at your entrance. his thick middle and ring fingers stretched you open he slipped them into you. he sucked on your clit and pressed his long fingers into that one spot inside of you. you whined loudly and he fucked you open on his fingers. “S-Sugu,” you slurred. “Sugu i’m gonna cum..!” you squeaked. he continued to work at you and another orgasm was building up in you. you kicked your feet as you felt your orgasm approaching but this felt different.

the coil in your stomach wound up tighter, you felt a pressure on your bladder and you trembled. you reached behind you blindly, grabbing Sugurus head and tangling your fingers in his hair. you felt him moan against you as you did so. “Sugu s-stop, i’m gonna pee.” you whined. he kept going, he either didn’t hear you or didn’t care but either way, he wasn’t gonna stop. “Sugu, wait!” he sucked harder at your clit and pressed his fingers into your g-spot. your toes curled as your back arched and you screamed out. your eyes rolled to the back of your head and all you saw was white. all you felt was your body shaking and wetness dripping down your thighs. your legs trembled at the earth-shattering orgasm and you whined and trembled at every touch you felt. Suguru moaned and groaned behind you, getting absolutely soaked as you squirted all over him and his bed. “Suguru!” you cried out, your feet kicked as he kept going.

“one more, just give me one more princess, i know you can.” you sobbed as he went back to sucking on your clit. another orgasm was building up quickly, your entire body shook as he sucked and prodded at you.

“Suguru,” you cried out. “i can’t.”

“yes you can, i know you can.” he muttered against you. tears were streaming down your face, you shook and trembled with every pass of his tongue. your one hand gripped his hair as the other gripped the sheets. the next orgasm came quickly and you cried out as it took over your body. his bed was almost completely soaked through because of you. the essence of your orgasm streaked down your thighs. he let go of you, sitting back on his knees and your body relaxed. you fell against the sheets, they stuck against your body because of how soaked they were. he watched you take deep breaths, your body slowly calming down. you could feel some shuffling behind you and hear the sound of fabric ruffling. you felt the weight of the bed shift, Suguru leaned above you, trailing kisses up your spine.

you felt his weight against your back as he laid on top of you. he kissed and licked at your neck, breathing into your ear. he took all his clothes off, he laid completely naked on top of you, his bare chest pressing against your back. you could feel everything, every outline of his abs against your back, you could also feel his cock pressing into your ass. grabbing his dick he ran his tips through your folds, collecting your wetness and smearing it along his cock. he pushed your left leg up, spreading you open for him and lifting your ass up so he could slip in easily. he pressed his tip into you, slowly slipping in your walls. you whimpered as you felt him throb within you. “oh, fuck.” he sighed. “you feel so fucking good.” he moaned, resting his head in your neck. you pushed back against him, pressing your ass flush against. he whined into your neck, “you’re gonna kill me.”

“move, please.”

“i can’t.” you got a flashback to the first night he fucked you. “i’ll cum.”

“please, Sugu. please.” you begged.

“ok.” he nodded, “ok.” he thrusted once and whimpered. he built up a steady rhythm, small noises fell from his lips as he fucked himself into you. “so fuckin’ tight, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” he fucked into you harder, the sounds of skin on skin bouncing off the walls of his room. “so much better than those other girls.” your body jerked and you looked behind you. “don’t worry princess, i’m not saying it to make you jealous.” he chuckled. “never had somebody like you, so fuckin perfect. you’re perfect y’know that?” when you didn’t respond he stopped moving. “answer me.”

“yes daddy!” you whined. his eyes crossed and his cock twitched deep within you, he never thought you were one to call somebody daddy, never took you as the submissive type at all. he leaned down over you.

“good girl.” he groaned into your ear. “good fucking girl.” he started moving again, fucking you deeper. his tip nudged your cervix each time from how deep he was and the pain added to your pleasure. you were damn near fucked dumb, any train of thought you had completely gone, all you could focus on was Suguru fucking you. you tightened around him, your orgasm building up in your lower stomach. “fuck, are you close?” you nodded your head. “you gonna cum for me, princess? make a mess all over me, yeah?” one hand trailed down your body, fingers playing with your clit and pushing you closer to the edge. you gripped the sheets hard, you swore you could hear the seams ripping.

“i’m gonna cum, Sugu!”

“hold it.” you shook your head. “you can hold it for me, i know you can.”

“i can’t, i can’t!” you sobbed. “i can’t, daddy, i’m gonna cum, please let me cum.”

“i said ‘hold it,’ right?” your body tensed up completely, your legs locking around Suguru from behind. before you could stop yourself, you were creaming around him. you cried out as you came, eyes crossing and rolling to the back of your head. you squeezed so tight around him he almost slipped out. he groaned as you clenched around him, his face was completely red, eyes hooded as he watched you cum around him. “i thought i told you to hold it.”

“i couldn’t do it.” you sniffled. “‘m sorry daddy.”

“aww, it’s ok baby.” he tucked some of your hair behind your ear, looking at your face. tears stained your face, mascara running down your cheeks, he smiled at you.

“want you to cum, daddy. want you to cum in me.” he groaned at your words, his cock twitched violently inside of you. he completely covered you, laying on top of you and matching his body up with yours. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. he began thrusting into you again, building up a fast pace, chasing his own orgasm.

“i’m gonna cum, right in this pretty little pussy and you’re gonna hold it all inside you. then, you’re gonna walk around the house with it all in you, let everybody know that i did it, let everybody know i’m yours.” let everybody know i'm yours. he wants to kill you. his pace began to falter and he gave a couple of more thrusts before stilling above you. he moaned into your ear, quieting himself by biting your neck. you felt him fill you up, rope after rope of his cum filling you up. you moaned with him, another orgasm taking over your body. Sugurus' body twitched as he came, he sighed out as his orgasm finally passed over him. he relaxed into you, falling on top of you.

“you’re heavy.” he laughed at you, sliding out of you and laying down next to your side. you turned your head to face him, he was already staring at you with a small smile on his face. “what?” your voice was hoarse.

“you’re so pretty,” he said quietly. you looked down before looking back into his eyes.

“thank you.” you whispered. he got up quickly, pulling on his boxer briefs, you sat up, covering yourself with your arms. “where are you going?”

“nowhere.”

“are you leaving?” you asked shyly.

“no, Y/N/N, i’m not leaving.” he walked over to his dresser, grabbing the two water bottles and whatever was wrapped up in the foil. making his way back to the bed, he sat down next to you. “here, drink something, it’ll help your throat.” he opened the water bottle for you. you took it from him and sipped from it slowly. he unwrapped what was in the foil - a sandwich. “eat this.” you took the sandwich from him and ate it. he watched you, he turned over to his nightstand - it was then you noticed the dragon tattoo displayed on his back - he grabbed some wipes and began unpacking them. he wiped the smeared mascara off of your face and wiped some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. “can i?” he gestured to you. you raised an eyebrow at him. “wipe you?”

“oh, you don’t have to.”

“yeah but i want to.”

“ok.” you laid back and opened your legs for him, he got in between them with a new new wipe.

“can you push it out for me?”

“thought you wanted me to keep it all in.”

“just do what i say.” he looked up at you, he looked so good between your legs like this, you’ll have to get him between them like this again.

“yes, daddy.” you rolled your eyes. sighing, you tried your best to squeeze all of his cum out of you. he watched it flow out you in thick globs.

“fuck.” he leaned down, licking at you quickly.

“Sugu!” your thighs closed around his head. “don’t do that. ‘m sensitive.”

“sorry, princess, you just look so good.” he smirked at you. he cleaned you up gently, getting up and searching through his drawers for a shirt and passing you one of his old gray tees. he picked you up and carried you out of the room, you hadn’t even noticed the party had stopped. carrying you to the bathroom and setting you on the sink he grabbed an extra toothbrush and any other thing he thought you would need. “i’m gonna go change the sheets real quick. you can come back to the room when you’re done.” he pecked your lips before exiting the bathroom. you got ready to go to bed, brushing your teeth and washing your face. you dried your hands and left the bathroom. you trekked back into his room, there he sat on the edge of it, scrolling on his phone. he put it down at his side and gestured for you to come over to him. when close enough he grabbed your hips and pulled you to him.

“did you um- did you dry the wet spot?” you asked, embarrassed. his hands rubbed up and down your thighs. your own hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck, his bun was looser now, more hairs framing his face.

“wet spot?” he looked behind him. “oh.” he laughed.

“what’s so funny?” you froze.

“waterproof liner.” you looked at him questioningly. “spilled some shit on my bed once, couldn’t get the stain out so i bought some waterproof liners. do you want to lay down?”

“um, no.”

“why not?”

“cause i should go. y’know, it’s late and i don’t want my roommate-”

“you don’t want to stay here.”

“what? no. that’s not- i’d love to stay.”

“so why don’t you?”

“cause i don’t want you to get tired of me.”

“tired?” you looked down awkwardly.

“i know how this goes, Suguru. i don’t want to stay only to be embarrassed later.”

“i wouldn’t embarrass you-”

“you can’t promise me that.”

“yeah, i can. do you- do you not see how much i care for you?”

“care?”

“i don’t want anybody the way i want you. never have. you make me… you make me feel good.”

“oh-”

“not like that. yeah, you make me feel good.” he chuckled. “but i just, i don’t know, i like the way you look at me.”

“how do i look at you?”

“like you care for me too. i like that. it makes me feel like i mean something.”

“everybody thinks you mean something.” you rubbed at his scalp and he felt shudders down his spine.

“yeah but it’s different. everyone cares cause they think i can do something for them, y’know. it’s fake but when it’s you, it feels right.” your face burned at his words and you looked down shyly.

“oh.” you giggled.

“oh?”

“i didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“why wouldn’t i?”

“cause you’re mean.”

“i am. i’m sorry.”

“you’re sorry?”

“yeah, i just, i didn’t know how to tell you i like you.”

“so you were practically a bully?”

“i guess.” he shrugged and laughed.

“how backwards is that?”

“i’ll have you backwards.” he smirked.

“what does that even mean?!” you laughed.

“wanna find out?”

“huh-” before you could finish, Suguru wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down to the bed next to him. you fell in a fit of giggles and he laughed along with you, silencing you with a kiss. the rest of the tight was spent with shared laughter, kisses, and fingers tangled together. it felt nice, you weren’t used to this side of him. he fell asleep before you, his head resting on his own pillow while one arm stayed on your stomach. you stared at him, watched his eyes flutter under his lids and the way his lips parted as he breathed. you tucked some hair behind his ear and pressed a kiss to his cheek, snuggling into his side, you let sleep overtake you and it may have been the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while. it just felt right to be in his arms.

----------------

for the next week you were either in Sugurus' room or somewhere out on the town with him. he kept you fed, hydrated, and full of dick. there were marks up and down your body from him, bites, hickeys, scratches, you had them all. all the brothers of his frat gave you a knowing look whenever you left his room, always in one of his shirts. when he took you out, Suguru made sure to always take you to places you’d never been before. which was pretty easy seeing as you spent most of your time cooped up in your dorm or in the rink. you’d found a new favorite diner, they had the best fries and milkshakes. the first time Suguru had watched you dip your fries into your vanilla shake, he stared at you in disgust. you’d forced him to try it, he had a whole fit before you stuffed his mouth with the fries. he shut up after a while and agreed that it wasn’t that bad, he wouldn’t tell you he actually liked it.

eventually Satoru had found out when he just walked into Sugurus room only to find him balls deep inside you. Suguru yelled at him to get out, throwing a shoe at his head. Satoru quickly slammed the door but not before he let out a wolf whistle at the sight. you were mortified, vowing to never show your face to Satoru again. that was in vain as the next morning at breakfast he had walked into the kitchen and stared at you for a while before exiting and making his way back upstairs. Suguru made sure his best friend would never mention it to you again, knowing how embarrassed you felt to be found in such a vulnerable position.

you sat in Sugurus bed scrolling on your phone while his T.V played a random show in the back. he laid next to you asleep, tired from running around from errands all day. he stirred awake, rubbing at his eyes and looking at you. “g’mornin’.”

“Sugu, it’s one p.m.” you snickered.

“oh. good afternoon.”

“hi.” you giggled. “do you wanna-” there was a knock at the door. Suguru went to get up but you grabbed his bicep. “i got it, lay back down.” you went to open the door. turning the knob, a familiar voice broke through the threshold before you could get it all the way open.

“Geto, have you seen Satoru-” Bri paused as she stared at you. “no fucking way.”

“oh. hey Bri.” you chuckled awkwardly.

“you’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

“what?”

“i can’t see Satoru but you can fuck his best friend.” the anger was obvious on her face.

“i didn’t- i don’t-”

“are we fucking serious right now? you’re gonna lie about it. i thought you were a bitch but this is low even for you.”

“i- i never told you you couldn’t see Satoru and we’re not just fucking-”

“just shut up. you practically shouted how much you hated the idea of me and Satoru together. were you jealous? is that what it was? you were mad because i actually had him and you wanted his best friend? when he’s over you next week, don’t come fucking crying to me.” Suguru jumped up from his bed and stormed over to the door.

“watch your fucking mouth when you’re taking to her.” your breathing stuttered and tears built up in your eyes. “no ones fucking jealous of you, i don’t even know why she’s friends with someone like you. Satoru doesn’t fucking like you, he told you that but you keep coming back here cause you think you can change his mind. let me tell you something, no matter how many times you fuck him, it’ll never change.” he stepped closer to her. “all he sees you as is something to nut in, that’s all everybody sees.” her eyes flickered all over his face. “go some fucking where before you embarrass yourself.” he slammed the door in her face and turned around to you. he saw the tears falling down your cheeks and immediately pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what her problem is, she was out of line.”

“it’s fine. she’s right.” you sniffled out.

“how is she right?” he pulled away from you.

“i am a hypocrite.” you cried. “i told her you and Satoru are dicks and then she finds me with you. it’s wrong.”

“hey, hey.” he cupped your face and made you look up at him. “it’s not wrong, you’re right, me and Satoru are dicks but that doesn’t mean she can just talk to you like that.” you looked down to the floor, closing your eyes. “look at me. she’s the one whose jealous. she’s jealous because she knows Satoru doesn’t like her and you’re here with me. she wants to be you, that’s it. don’t listen to her, ok?”

“ok.” you whimpered.

“how about a nap, yeah. sleep and when you wake up we can get milkshakes and fries.” you nodded and let him pull you down to the bed.

----------------

it took a while for you to cheer up after the situation with Bri. Satoru had stopped talking to her completely after Suguru told him what happened, he’d even apologized for letting it happen when it wasn’t his fault at all. now, you sat on the sides of a rink at a major competition. the TMTC figure skating team had won a spot in a regional competition, schools from four different states were coming to compete and whatever team won got a grant of 7,000 dollars to use to upgrade their schools ice skating rink, an unnecessarily large trophy that sat in a glass case across the rink, and the chance to go to nationals. your team had won the spot at the competition a while ago after winning gold against Kyoto college. while you belonged here, it was proven in the way you participated in the last comp, you were deep in your own head.

you made the team practice non-stop to ace the choreography, making sure everyone was on their a-game. you sat on the bench with your hands on your knees, hands tucked under your chin and one of your knees bouncing up and down. you were nervous, you’d never performed in such a large stadium before, let alone in front of so many people.

Suguru sat in a chair not too far from the rink, close enough to see your features and how nervous you were. he wanted to go out on the ice and hold you, tell you it was ok and he knew you would win because he did. you got this far, you carried your team all the way to this comp, he had no doubt in his mind you would bring gold home. he hoped you knew that as well. your team was up next, two already went before you. it was your time to get ready and you led the team to the locker room. everyone was lacing up their skates in silence, the nerves bouncing off all the girls. once you finished tying your skates you stood in front of them all.

“guys.” you started. “i know i’m not really good at the whole encouraging speech thing but i just wanted you all to know that i’m proud of us. we got all the way here, we made it this far because of our hard work. i don’t want y’all to put too much pressure on yourselves. no matter what we all joined this sport because we love it and it’s fun. we can have fun tonight, don’t let some competitions take the joy out of this. whatever happens tonight, whether we win or we lose, it’s fine. i won’t say i wouldn’t be disappointed if we lost but we got here. we worked our asses off and proved we belong. so when we go out there, i want y’all to show everyone who we are. we’re not just the TMTC figure skating team, we’re girls who all have our own personalities and joined this sport for different reasons. show them that.” everyone clapped and smiled fondly at you, standing up and huddling around. they called for your team on the loud speakers. “alright, this is our time, don’t take it for granted.”

the team left the locker room and you headed out behind them. you all lined up along the ice and waited for your que. the song you had chosen began to play and one by one the line began to disperse. following the choreography you had come up with, the dance started slowly. every girl skated out into a step sequence, their movements following the tempo of the song. the music began to speed up and so did the moves, excluding you there was an even amount of girls on the team, so you paired them in twos. two girls were assigned to each other and executed the choreography together. they did a combination of moves supporting one another. you skated through them, sometimes grabbing onto their waists as they spun around to spin with them, crouching down onto your knees and tucking your head into your shoulders.

the music became louder, the beat progressing and each of your moves becoming harsher, more restricted to display the emotion of the dance. you skated on one leg, through four of the girls, you placed one of your legs down, turning the move onto an upright spin and once you began to spin faster, two sets of hands grabbed your waist stopping you. your turn stopped abruptly, just as you stopped you broke free, skating away from them and towards one wall, just as you reached it, you fell to your knees, turning on them as the rest of the team approached you. they covered your body completely, all of their hands reaching to grab some part of you and just as they moved and light broke through the makeshift cover they made over you, they hoisted you into the air. not too high to the point you’d land dangerously, but enough so you landed and turned, one foot poured out behind you and hands displayed in front of you for balance.

the girls began skating to you quite fast, their moves harsh as they came at you, just before they reached you, they stopped. clasping hands and beginning the next part of the choreo you taught them. while everyone was distracted by their dance, you snuck off into a corner, sitting and waiting for your que. you sat for a minute before your que came up. the girls were lined up once again, like they were when the dance started. they all had their backs turned to you. the music grew again, reaching its crescendo. skating to them, one by one from each row they all turned to you, skating faster and lifting one leg in the air, you held your hands out behind you. bringing that foot back down and jumping, you turned in the air and landed on the opposite foot, now skating backwards, body swaying side to side.

just as you saw the tip of someone’s skate just in your view - strategically placed for you - you brought that leg back down again, pushing yourself forward off the tip of your blade and turning around, you headed for the gap between the girls split directly in the middle. you began to spin again just as you reached the gap some of their hands began reaching for you but stopping the turn, you came to a full hockey stop, falling down into position for a hydroblade. four girls behind you fell dramatically onto another while others began to turn into a sit spin. you laid with your chest pressing against the floor, rising and falling into the ice as you panted. the music stopped abruptly, the rest of the girls falling out of their sitting spins onto the floor as well and for a second all there was was silence. all you could hear was your own breathing before the stadium erupted into loud cheers. claps could be heard all throughout the stadium, whistles and the thumps of people’s boots and sneakers as they jumped.

relaxing and getting up from the ice you turned to the team, everyone was looking around the stadium at all the people clapping for them. from across the arena, Suguru yelled for you. he clapped so hard his hands were red. “that’s my fucking girl!” he goaded, he was so proud of you he felt like his chest could burst. he whooped and yelled for you as you and the team headed back to the locker room. he stood out against everyone else, 6’2” frame wearing all black with jet black hair cheering for some girl on a team wearing a bright pink tutu, it was almost comical. you and the team got undressed in the locker room, all dressed in TMTC tracksuits. you skated back to the rink to sit back on your assigned bench. there are three more teams after you. you had to sit through all of them before the results came in.

the teams after you were so good, you clapped and cheered for them when they finished and it was finally the end of the night. the panelists had called for all teams to come stand in the rink as they announced the winners, the announcements began. people from within the stadium voted on who they wanted to win on the website on their phones, they picked who they thought belonged in first, second and third. the victors for second and third were announced and you let your head hang. you had at least expected third, your performance wasn’t like others, it took a more aggressive approach rather than the usual gentleness of figure skating. maybe you should have stuck to what you knew. preparing for the disappointment of a loss, you began slowly backing away from the team.

“and the first place winner for this year's regional competition is…” silence overtook the audience. “Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College!” you paused, not exactly sure if you heard him right. the crowd broke out in applause, cheers damn near breaking the sound barrier. your team was already at the man with the trophy’s side. they watched you before they all yelled at you to come get your trophy. you skated over to them quickly, Reí held out the trophy for you to grab and as you took it, you fell to your knees. you cried as you held the trophy. the team stood over you, rubbing your back, thanking you for leading them this far. you cried harder.

leaving the large stadium with the large trophy on your hand, everyone behind you was yelling out proudly. some stragglers from the crowd congratulated you as you left. once you got to the parking lot, you saw Suguru leaning against his car. you tried your best to run over to him, placing down the trophy and crashing into him. his arms wrapped around you and lifted you into the air, your feet left the concrete and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “you did it.”

“i did.” you sobbed, so proud of yourself.

“i’m so proud of you. i knew you were gonna win.” you cried into his neck. “you did so good pretty girl, you were the best.”

“you’re just saying that cause you’re fucking me.”

“no.” he placed you down, making you look at him. “that’s not why.”

“then what, Sugu?” he stared at you for a second before he turned around and opened his car door, grabbing something and hiding it strategically so you couldn’t see it. once he turned back to face you his ears were bright red and he huffed out a breath.

“Y/N L/N, will you do me the amazing honor and accept me as your boyfriend?” from behind his back, he pulled a beautiful bouquet of purple and white flowers. your jaw dropped and you looked between him and the flowers. “you gonna answer?”

“yes!” you wrapped your arms around him again. holding him close to you. you pulled back and pressed a messy kiss to his lips, tongues and teeth clashing. “you’re so corny.” you whispered to him.

“what can i say? you bring it out of me.” you laughed together. eventually he led you to the passenger seat, buckling you in and pressing kisses to your face. you stared at him as he got in the car. fondness all over your features, how lucky could you have been?

----------------

two months later you found yourself in the spot where everything started. back in the now improved locker room of your school, lacing up your skates to head to the ice. Suguru was waiting for you outside, sitting down staring out to the floor. approaching him from behind you tapped his shoulder. “come on.”

“what are we doing here?”

“just come on.” you rolled your eyes. grabbing his hands in your own, you began to walk backwards to the ice, watching him watch you. now on the rink you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you.

“what are we doing here?”

“why are you complaining?”

“cause,” he whined. “i wanna go back to my room and watch movies with my favorite person.”

“and who’s your favorite person?”

“Satoru.” he deadpanned, you hit his shoulder.

“be serious.” he let out a hearty laugh.

“ok but what are we doing here? it’s late.”

“you remember that one night you told me if i let you teach me the hockey stop, i could teach you one of my own moves?” he groaned and let his head fall back.

“i thought you forgot about that.”

“i did.” you shrugged. “‘till i didn’t.”

“do we have to?” he pouted.

“yes, now stop being a baby. it’ll be easy, i promise.” you led him to the middle of the rink and let go. “ok, watch me.” you began skating away, once far enough you put one leg out. eventually putting it down you turned back to your boyfriend. “easy, right?”

“sure.”

“now you do it.” he began skating forward but as soon as he put his leg up, he stumbled forward, quickly catching himself. you crouched over laughing.

“it’s not funny, Y/N/N.”

“yes it is.” you laughed even harder, he huffed. “ok, ok, i’m sorry, try again.” he kept trying, sometimes stumbling. he complained a lot along the way, asking if you two could just leave. you wouldn’t let him give up, you kept pushing until he finally got it.

“was there a point to this?”

“of course.” you skated from your spot to him, grabbing him and pulling him along with you. beginning to gain speed, you pressed your back to his and placed his hands on your waist. you leaned forward, kicking your leg out as you skated, Suguru watched and knew what you wanted him to do. he did just the same as you, your bodies lined up together and you skated around half the rink like that. putting your leg down to stop you looked at him. “see, i had a point.”

“yeah but my point is better.”

“you didn’t even make a point.”

“yeah i did.”

“then what’s your point?”

“this.” he grabbed your jaw between his hand and planted his lips on yours. he parted your lips with his own and slipped his tongue into your mouth, you moaned around him. cupping the back of your head, he slowly inched you down until you were both lying on the floor. he kissed from your mouth to your neck, unbuttoning your shirt slowly, he trailed his fingertips along your body. his hands ran along the hem of your skirt before he slipped it under the garment. his finger circled your clit and slid down to your entrance. he circled it and felt you flutter before he slid one into you, you moaned when he entered another. you were so wet, soaking his entire hand as he fucked it in you, he stopped just as you felt your orgasm approaching.

“hey!” you whined at him.

“i know, i know. i’ll make it up to you.” he began suckling small marks into the skin and trailing them down your body. leaving kisses down your body as you heaved at the affection. he licked into your belly button before looking at you. “you’re so pretty.”

“you tell me all the time.”

“just making sure you know.” he leaned down to unlace both your and his skates and threw them somewhere across the rink. his hand slithered up your thigh and he gripped the stockings you were wearing under your skirt. “these are so dumb.” before you could reply, you heard the loud rip of the fabric.

“Suguru!” you yelled at him, “i have to wear these out of here!”

“it’ll be fine.”

“they’re my favorite pair.” you pouted.

“i’ll get you some more, ok?”

“fine.” he moves down your body once more, now coming face to face with the wet spot on your panties. he ran his finger over and pushed into your hole slightly, collecting more wetness on the fabric. he pulled your panties to the side. he breathed against your skin, your pussy fluttering as you felt it. he licked your clit, his piercing running over it quickly. he dove straight into it. wasting no time he began eating at you like a man starved. your back arched off the ice, fingers tangling in his hair, you pulled on it roughly and he moaned into you. you guided his head up and down in you, his tongue dragging over your clit, his piercing rubbing over it. he looked up to you and the sight above him was beautiful, your mouth was dropped open and your chest was arched off the floor. one of his hands began to run circles over your hole, he slipped two fingers in you. you moaned as his fingers rubbed your walls, his tongue piercing rolled over your engorged clit and your voice broke as you cried out his name.

his fingers began to fuck into you faster and he went from licking your clit to sucking on it. an orgasm was building up quickly and you couldn’t fight it off. “Sugu, i’m gonna cum.” ever since the two of you got together, Suguru spent his time learning your body, learning what made you tick and twitch. your hips began bucking up in his face, his other hand came up to hold you down. his palm pushed you back against the floor, making sure you couldn’t squirm away from him. he sucked on your clit harder, your stomach clenched and your toes curled. “Sugu!” your things trembled and you cried as you came, you shook as Suguru kept sucking, his fingers stilled inside of you pressing into your walls instead.

“give me another.” he murmured softly, he began sucking on your clit again. you panted, gripping his head harder, pressing him more into you. you clenched around his fingers harder and before you could warn him, you were squirting all over his face. he gulped it down happily, drinking from you like he was a parched man and you a fountain. he sat up and smiled at you, your juices dripping from his chin. you sighed as he let up, body relaxing into the floor. “i love it when you do that.”

“i don’t.”

“why.” he whined like a petulant child.

“it takes a lot out of me. take your pants off.” he obliged, sliding them to the middle of his thighs.

“you’re bossy,” he joked.

“you like it.” he nodded his head with a smirk on his face, he does like it, you’re the only person who can put him in his place. he lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist, his body engulfed yours, wrapping his arms around and you cradling your head as his body bent over yours. he lined his tip up with your entrance. he groaned as he pushed into you, your walls fluttered around him and you took him inch by inch. you turned your head to him searching for his lips. “Sugu.” you whispered, he turned to face you and you pressed your lips to his. he began thrusting into you, your lips moved against each other, you sucked on his tongue and his eyes rolled back. his moan vibrated through your head, you took the ball of his piercing into your mouth, rolling your tongue over it and biting the metal playfully.

“you’re so big.” you rested your head on the ice, your ass was pressed against it. the tights were ripped around your thighs, your panties pulled to the side rubbing against Sugurus cock as he fucked you.

“you’re so tight,” he moaned. “fuck, i love you.” your eyes widened. that was the first time he ever said it to you. his thrusts slowed down and grew deeper, he went from slutting you out to fucking you passionately. “i love you.” he pressed his lips to yours, his hand that was cradling your head tangled into your hair, pulling at it to make you look at him. his tongue ran over your lips, opening them and sliding it into your mouth. you took a minute to kiss him back, your eyes stayed open as he kissed you. his pelvis rubbed directly on your clit and your eyes crossed. he cock continuously rubbed your g-spot, his tip nudged your cervix. you panted and moaned into his mouth, he breathed you in, soaking up every sound that escaped your lips.

“i’m gonna cum.” you whimpered.

“me too.” the kiss between you two grew sloppy, less of a kiss and more of a combination of tongues and slobber. everything was so wet, your face with his spit, your body with sweat, in between your legs with his precum and your arousal. “i’m gonna cum in this tight pussy, gonna fill you up. wanna watch you grow, watch your stomach get bigger causa me.” you moaned at his words, who knew Suguru Geto had a breeding kink? “tell me.” he bit your lip. “tell me you want it. you want my kids.”

“fuck, i want it.” you sobbed, back arching to his chest.

“you want it? wanna be a mommy? gonna make me a daddy?”

“yes! gonna make you a daddy, want you to make me a mommy.” you slurred, words stringing together.

“you’re gonna be such a pretty mommy, princess, gonna have the cutest kids.” he lifted his face to look into your eyes. he gripped your chin, making you look at him. “look at me when you cum, keep your eyes open.” you tried but your eyes rolled back into your head. he landed quick gentle slaps to your face “open ‘em.” your mouth dropped open, you tried to tell him you were close but all that came out were garbled words. “i know, pretty girl, you’re so close.” he mocked. “gonna cum all over me? make a mess? let it go.” you cried out as you came, voice cracking from the volume. “there it is, let it out for me.” your legs shook with your orgasm, your back arched and fell with tremors. “i’m gonna cum.” his thrust faltered, one, two, three more before he filled you up. there was so much of it that you swore you could see your stomach expanding with each rope.

“Sugu, there’s so much.”

“fuck, i know.” it seeped out around him, dripping from you down his balls. he pulled out of you, wincing as the coldness of the rink met his cock. he laid next to you, sprawling out on the ice. “i meant it.” you looked at him. “i know what you’re thinking, i meant it. i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t.” you sighed with relief.

“i love you too.” he smiled so wide you thought it would stick to his face. “did you mean the other thing?”

“what? making you a mom?” you nodded. “fuck yeah.” he laughed. “you’d look hot as a mom.”

“Suguru!”

“what?! you would. and i’d get to watch it. getting hard jus’ thinkin’ bout it.”

“you’re gross.” your face turned up jokingly.

“maybe but it’s more than that. i want that with you, i want kids with you, wanna have everything with you.”

“i want it too.”

“really?”

“yeah but it might be too early right now.” you turned on your side, laying your head on his chest. “how about… meeting my grandfather next saturday?”

“ok. is he gonna kill me?”

“probably.”

“fuck.”

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THIS TOOK FOREVER!! i was supposed to have this out weeks ago but it's out now! i hope you enjoyed. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

@shadowthief78 @alittlepuppyslut @leave-rae-alone @sugurusprettygirl @kissyblake-uwu @blubearxy @moonlithavensworld @deanzelly @xxharumixx @httpghostface @enhypen-scholarship @breeziebetty @3xv5s @iwannachokeontojifushiguroscock @ilovemydogsimon @jellyamour @secretanimesimp @literallynothingandnobody @morganadorodo @shiroganekagami @mmeerraa @lunairiki @saccharine-nectarine @deepinballs @boba-is-a-soup @localgaytrainwreck @bootlegroach @r0ses4ndlilies @shoyos-sugarbaby @sativaxc @spam-love @sh0rtccakee @onlypickless @nishii28 @missgab @anastasijaiwaizumi @strawberry-hyacinth @ynmnln @flrdete @megmercury @bforbiblio @hwanin @reinersweiner @childof-iluvatar @toijisdilfdaddy @doniveatry @cursedwings2005 @liaurokodaki @vixensbrainrotts @pillowow @beelzmunchkin @idkkk343 @xoxohyuniin09 @fartzalot @ghostlillah @diiaicar @vampl-sh @bffrrufr @jay-mach @firstwarmdayofbluespring @svtkiss

#getou suguru x y/n #geto x you #geto suguru x reader smut #geto suguro x reader #geto suguru smut #suguro geto #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto x y/n #jjk geto

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anaconamor · 9 months ago

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photo booth kisses - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: sharing a cheesy kiss with your boyfriend who can’t hide his shy face away from you.

psa 🗣️: a little birthday gift from me to you 🤭🤍

“sit here,” said jude tapping his lap as you closed the red curtain from the booth. you sat on his lap your legs resting by his right side and wrapping an arm behind his shoulders. “i’ll pay!” you quickly say pulling out your card and doing so before jude.

the whole date he refused to let you pay. the food, the arcade, the gifts you won at the end. while you loved the idea of being spoiled you wanted to do something for him, well the both of you to remember the date. you had made a memory box together, which held concert tickets, small flowers he picked for you, polaroids, and other reminders from old dates.

“why did you do that?” jude frowned pulling you closer to him resting his head on top of your shoulder. “because i wanted to,” you mocked him, knowing this would make him rage inside like how you felt when he said to you. “how many did you pay for?” he asked adjusting himself and you so you fit better in the frame.

“three, one for me and one for you! and then the other can go on the fridge or my vanity,” you explained smiling like an idiot as you looked up and saw jude in the frame, cheesing harder and wanting to press kisses all over his face. “i’m putting ours in my locker. my good luck anytime i play,” jude replied kissing your shoulder as you fixed the setting and picked out a cute xoxo frames for the pictures.

“or maybe cut it in half and place it in my wallet to carry you around with me all day,” he said making you pout with joy. “you’re so cute baby,” you tell him seeing jude’s face flush in shyness, his lips in a upside down smile and face begging to be tucked into your neck. “okay get ready! these have to be perfect!” you say clapping your hands excitedly.

three. two. one.

you pose cheesing and smiling hard together, two ducks in a lake happier and more in love then ever. your face beamed with a glow that only appeared when you were with him, not to say the least with jude, his brown eyes shimmering with adoration and love towards you.

three. two. one.

the two of you did a silly face. jude posing like roadman while you stuck up a peace and sticker your tongue out. you laughed it off brushing away how silly jude indeed looked while posing. you had not noticed that it automatically took a picture of you two laughing catched off guard. which made you want to squeal at how perfect it looked.

three. two. one.

you brushed your hand against jude’s jaw, bring his face close to yours and brushed your lips together. the kiss so soft and delicate it made you want more. jude sighed in pleasure, his eyes fluttering as his hands tugged your waist, his thumb rubbing shapes against your skin. you deepen the kiss, jude’s tongue brushing against yours, he tasted like candy, so sweet and tasty.

you both pulled away at the same time, you bit your bottom lip as jude hid the tiny shy smirk in your neck. just like in the movies and tv shows you had seen growing up as a teen, but now you finally experienced it with your handsome boyfriend. who also couldn’t stop cheesing at the kiss and you.

oh he was a madly in love with you. jude was never afraid of anything, but after meeting you, he was so afraid to lose you, so used to you now in his life. you were his lucky charm and the perfect person to be sent at the most perfect time for him. like a photograph taken at the most perfect time and place. a gorgeous flower grown and standing tall between roots and roots of short and dull grass.

“why are you hiding from me?” you teased jude who rested his head still on your shoulder. “because i get shy,” jude admitted with pursed lips. “because when you look at me… all i feel is this?” he took your hand and placed it over his heart. “i love you y/n…” he pecked your lips again, hearing you murmur and i love you back and feel you smiling.

“oh hey wait! they gave us four in total!”

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

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baka-bakeneko · 1 month ago

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Bed Dreams - Logan Howlett

DP3! Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

summary: you've been thinking of Logan, awake and asleep. Logan notices when you take a nap together.

tags: NSFW, MDNI, consensual napping, nocturnal orgasm, quickie, cowgirl, wrap it before you tap it psa

a/n: Wade, my other love, you have reminded me of my first love.

It was very rare, as roommates, that you and Logan were home alone. Al barely left the house and, as Logan's new best bub, Wade was clamped to his side every waking, and some unwoken, moments.

So for Logan to open the front door just as you relaxed into the daybed to nap was new to you.

"Hey," you said, smiling as you lounged on the couch pillow and turning your head to the television.

"Hey," he repeated, his voice nothing short of honey whiskey. "You settling in for a nap?"

You nodded, shifting a bit towards the wall to offer him space to join you. "Just a few minutes, wanna relax?"

Another rare occurrence between you two, sharing any kind of space intimately as friends. Wade usually liked to cuddle on the couch, throwing his legs over your lap while Logan tended to grimace from his recliner.

Let it be him, the old man, to love his singular brown recliner. His eyes never let off of you two, though.

It was judgemental, his glare at the two of you before peeling his eyes away in a short huff.

Logan stepped towards you, cocking his jaw at you stretched out on the daybed; you had one of Al's frilly tapestry blankets draped over your legs with your arm tucked under your head.

"Why the hell not?" He shrugged, kicking his boots off and sitting down on the edge. "No funny business, missy."

You grinned, shifting further away from Logan to accommodate his frame. He lay down with a tired exhale, his back cradled by the flimsy springs of the daybed.

Logan draped his arm out around you, allowing you to rest your head on his bicep. There was a friendly distance between you, a hands-length of breath between you as Logan stared at the ceiling and relaxed.

You curled further into yourself, slipping quickly into a nap. Logan inhaled deeply, just letting the day take a pause. His back had been hurting lately from tossing and turning overnight.

Logan tenderly tilted his head over to you, inhaling the scent from the top of your head. He sighed, blinkling slowly before finally drifting off.

He woke up moments later, it seemed, to you stirring next to him. Squinting down at you, he found you in a completely different position than before.

You were on your stomach, your arm draped over Logan's chest though your head left Logan's arm empty. He clenched his hand into a fist, distracting himself for a moment before you moved again.

It was subtle, your legs stretching out before raising a leg against Logan's. He watched you twitch, your breath escaping in sharp huffs. Raising a brow, Logan carefully reached for you, ready to wake you.

A dewy sweat beaded over your forehead, your mouth falling open with soft pitches. Logan stared, sickly intrigued while still hazy in sleep.

Then it was sudden. You moaned. Not only that, but you moaned Logan's name.

He froze, his heart skipping at the thought of you dreaming about him. Or whatever it was you were doing, which he was still concerned about.

You continued, panting in your sleep, gripping at your shirt before letting out a final moan. Logan leaned in to smell you again, not making it to your head to smell a sweet scent emanating from you.

He raised his brows, sniffing a bit harder at the scent to find where it'd come from. His query didn't go far as you shifted your leg further up his.

Oh.

So you were...in your sleep...to Logan.

Oh.

He couldn't help but laugh lowly, dropping his head back down to stare at the ceiling again. Logan gulped as he tried to will himself back to sleep.

But that was easier said than done. With his free hand, he adjusted his jeans, giving him a bit more breathing room though he was losing it. You orgasmed, in your sleep, to him.

Logan felt his heart trip again, rushing with adrenaline at the thought of how often you did it. And you lay next to him, knowing that it could happen.

He released a shuddering breath, shutting his eyes to take his mind off of it for however long it'd take for you to wake up.

It wasn't long after that you both were woken up by an audience. Blind Al, accompanied by Wade standing close behind her.

"Now I don't have a problem with y'all napping in here," Al began, with Wade accentuating with a few 'mhmm's and head bobbing. "But fuck in your own room, please."

"And how dare you not invite me to the cuddle sesh?" Wade said, partially offended as he poked Logan in the chest.

You stared up at the two of them, tucked on Logan's arm, not understanding what they meant. As you sat up, Logan's hand slipped off of your leg draped up to his waist.

You recoiled, embarrassed, and produced the same friendly sliver between you and Logan. Logan grimaced, at both your leaving and the cockblock duo.

"Fuck off," he offered to Wade, swatting his hand away before sitting up.

He looked back at you, a new glow about you from napping...among other things. Your hair was slightly mussed, the sleeve of your shirt slipped askew to your shoulder.

Logan tensed his jaw at the same time his cock flinched. He turned away and pushed to his feet, shoving Wade out of the way to the kitchen.

You edged off of the daybed after Logan, watching as he retreated to his room, punctuating his silence with his door slamming.

"What did you do to him?" Wade asked, thumbing over his shoulder after Logan.

Al's nose twitched, sniffing the air. "Y'all didn't fuck."

You straightened up and climbed off of the daybed, picking up your shoes to take to your room. "Of course we didn't, I invited him to nap with me."

"And he actually did it," Al added, shuffling to her signature seat in the living room.

"But when I ask him to have a boys' shower with me...!" Wade raised his voice, hoping Logan could hear him.

You stood in the hallway, staring across to Logan's closed off room, then over to your room next to Wade's. Instead of going to your room, you dropped your shoes at the front door then went to Logan's door.

Logan sat on the edge of his bed, willing himself to get back up and leave the apartment for a drink. That was until you opened the door.

"You okay?" You asked, holding onto the doorknob in case you needed a quick exit.

"Fine," Logan responded, short and gruff.

"Because I thought you were okay with napping next to me. If I'd have known you would embarrassed--"

Logan looked over at you, his brow quirking before sitting back on his hands. "Shut the door."

He tilted his chin for you to do so and you did with minimal hesitation. You stood against the doorknob, raising your brows at him to continue.

"Do you know you orgasm in you sleep?" Logan teased, smirking at you.

Something about his grin, so thin edged between menacing if not for the light in his eyes, gave you the feeling of being expertly seen.

Too seen, as if the animal man mutant was in fact targeted on you. Your breath stilted a beat, staring at Logan.

"I...I've been told of it before." You tried to hide the blush from your answer, keeping your eyes on him.

Logan's smirk strained a bit, his eyes flicking down your body in a half-second. "And you didn't think to warn me just in case? What about funny business?"

You broke, laughing nervously as you looked away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't think it'd happen, it's usually in my bed."

Logan stood up, cocking a brow at you before reaching to undo his jacket. His smirk never left, turning away from you for a second as he went to his closet for a white beater.

"So, it's nothing about me being in your little wet dreams?"

You were struck still, as if Logan's words had Medusa's power. He liked how you squirmed so miniscule where you stood.

Your scent was strong, a growing sweat emerging from his line of questioning. Even now, he noticed how you were edging your thighs together as if to stop your arousal.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." You were sure, or as sure as you could be, that when you did that, you didn't think you were saying anyone's name. Not that there were a lot of names on your roster.

It was a measly little crush you thought you were keeping quiet, but you were apparently projecting your crush on Logan as loud as possible.

Logan rolled his beat down to cover his body, looking over his shoulder to you. He turned and cornered you against his door.

"You made my name sound so good on your lips," he whispered down at you, his eyes eneveloping all of your intimate beauty.

Your eyes sparkled as he closed in, your blushing cheeks so biteable and inviting. Logan grit into his teeth, holding back even though he wanted to devour you. He had to admit to himself that he'd been hunting you in the apartment soon after you moved it.

It'd been too long since he'd been around a woman, much less a woman like you. Logan shut his eyes to breathe you in again, reminding himself of how he thought of you in his sleep. He'd wake up restless, harder than his own fucking claws, having to take matters into his own hands.

You bit into your bottom lip, titling your head up to meet Logan's eyes again. If he kept staring at you so hungry, you were sure you'd hyperventilate into your worst party trick again.

But Logan liked it. Because it involved him. It starred him.

"I must be good in your head, I make you cum every time." Logan's hand ghosted up your neck, bracing your jaw to hover just before your lips. "And so intensely, I want to make it real."

You begged internally for Logan to do so, your pussy pulsing readily as it did when you involuntarily came. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip, awaiting your answer only for you to whimper out: "Please."

Logan's eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring like an animal. The brown in his eyes was slivered against his dilated pupils.

He dove into your lips, kissing hungrily and taking every soft whimper you offered in response. Logan reached to lock the door, allowing you to curl your arms around his neck.

He bent, grabbing the backs of your legs and carrying you over to his bed. "Strip. I wanna see that wet pussy."

You edged onto your elbows, working down your pants while your nerves enlivened against Logan's clean sheets. Your butt greeted his pillow comforter as you peeled your jeans down your thighs, only for Logan to take them the rest of the way.

He aggressively tugged them off of your ankles, leaving your legs suspended in the air for a moment until Logan grabbed onto them. Your breathing came uneven as Logan ran his calloused hands up your legs, admiring them begore draping your ankles against his shoulders.

He avowed to himself to try every position imaginable, just to taint your dreams further with his presence. He kissed at your ankle, nipped at your skin before raking his eyes down to glance at your bare pussy.

Shutting his eyes, Logan metered his excitement. He would not wear you out in your first time with him; maybe if he'd keep you overnight you'd realize how long his stamina was.

"Tell me how you want me," Logan ordered, though it was posed as a question.

Logan was stood between your legs, admiring and caressing them, pressing his waist just inches before your core.

"Like you are," you rushed out, reaching for your shirt to peel it off. "Right now."

Logan's eyes were graced with your natural form, the afternoon sun streaking across his comforter and your naked skin. The gold gave you the glow of a goddess, waiting patiently to be praised.

Logan would readily bend to your whim this way; his normally built up, guarded nature felt flawed as he was coaxed in your direction.

He reached to peel up his shirt, to embrace your skin with his, but you stopped him with a shake of your head. "Take your cock out and fuck me." The words made your mouth feel weird, though it came straight from your dreams.

Logan sneered, capturing your lips again as he undid his pants and pushed them far enough to free his cock, throbbing and leaking.

He braced a knee on the bed, guiding his cock up and down your slickened lips before sinking in an inch. You both paused, adjusting to this bold step in your relationship. His cock stretched at your entrance, making you point your toes in silent exclamation.

Logan noticed your pert nipples harden, your stomach hollowing as your walls pulsed eagerly around him. He relaxed his shoulders, once again pacing his desire from splitting you in half.

"Logan," you moaned, raising your hips for him to continue. "Please."

His ears perked at the soft piques that escaped your parted lips, trying to chase more of him. Logan's hand ran down to your hips, holding them off of the bed to sink in another inch.

You craned your head back to release a pent up moan. Logan instinctively reached out to clamp his hand over your mouth, bewildering you in the process.

"Shh, we have roommates." He spoke softly, a new tone for him. His eyes narrowed, boring into you and making you squirm under his stare.

Logan was in control over you, just as you wanted, inching further into and earning another muted sound. He dropped your legs, no longer able to keep the distance from you.

He slid over your body, hissing at the feeling of your nipples pebbled against his chest. Logan took your legs around his waist, thrusting in the rest of the way and earning a heightened noise from behind his palm.

He was burning alive, the heat from your cunt only driving him over the edge. Logan ducked his face for a moment, trying to regain himself from with anfew soft whimpers.

You were delighted to hear him break so close to your ear; your eyes fluttered as your hands drifted under his shirt to admire the structure of his back.

You shrugged his shirt up, guiding it over his head before tangling it off of his arms. Logan reluctantly broke away for a moment, tossing his shirt to the head of his bed before grabbing at you again.

He turned you both, sitting up on the edge of the bed and sinking even further into you. You and Logan looked down at him, realizing he was still inches out of you though he was already ringing your core.

He held his hands at your hips, biting his lip as his thumb brushed over the bulging lower part of your stomach. You rested your hands on his shoulders, circling your hips on his length before edging up on your knees.

Logan exhaled, another whimper escaping him as you met his eyes. Riding him, you felt his hands grip into your ass, following your movements on him.

He seethed, tilting his head back as you panted before his mouth. Logan took over a moment, thrusting upward into and earning a whimper.

He no longer wanted to keep you quiet, ready to hear and ingest every noise you made while fucking. Louder than in your dreams, earning the real thing.

"Logan," you mewed, staring into the man's feral eyes.

He growled, pressing his chest to yours so you could feel it. Your nipples grazed his wiry hairs, sliding down on his huge cock as he ran his dull nails down your thighs.

It was a salacious trio, earning you to pause midway and slam down on his length. You cried out, which Logan soaked in with running his lips up your elongated throat.

He gripped tighter at your ass, rolling your hips further to take in more of his cock. Logan grit, attempting to withhold longer than your now gripping pussy, ready to milk him dry.

Logan succumbed, groaning outwardly as his claws emerged from his knuckles and he came with a purpose for the first time in years.

You rolled your hips into Logan, riding into his spurting cock as your pussy drank it in. Ducking your head back, you whined, already wanting to go again.

Leveling back before Logan, you ran your hands up to curl your fingers through the short hair on his nape.

Logan kept you still, sparing his eyes away for a moment to will his claws back in without cutting you. He was slow in his efforts, distracted slightly by your descension to sucking on his neck.

He tilted his head to allow you further, grunting as your teeth grazed his skin. It was an intimate bubble you two curated, sweaty and clumsy. The streaks of sun stretched further into the room, decorating you both in golden hour glow.

Logan slid a hand up to your breast, kneading at it gently before taking your nipple into his mouth. You whimpered into his neck, pulling off of him to caress his nape.

You both froze as a knock on the door interrupted your intimacy.

"Logan, buddy, do you want to go get some shwarma? Tony Stark and friends went to this one up the street..."

"No." Logan barked out, causing you to flinch on his cock. He moaned lowly at your reaction before aiding you off of his length.

You reached for his shirt and put it on just as Wade wiggled the door handle.

"C'mon, Wolvie. I'm sure some food will cheer you up."

"Fuck off, Wade," Logan replied, undressing fully before climbing after you.

He grabbed your ankle, turning you onto your stomach. You grinned, hiding your giggles into the comforter as his shirt rode up to your stomach.

Logan teasingly bit at the backs of your thighs, then your ass before dragging his tongue up your back. You crooned, raising your hips in response.

"I want to replace every dream with the real thing," Logan huffed behind your ear, lining up behind you.

You raised up on your elbows, angling your hips, ready for Logan to keep going.

"Logan, the door is locked, bud!" Wade called out, making you snicker lowly.

Logan dropped his head back with a groan. "There's a reason!"

"You know to hang your mask on the door when you're 'polishing your claws'. And to hang mine when you need help."

You raised a curious brow back at Logan, who shook his head.

"Wade, seriously?"

"Come on, Droolverine. Let's hang out!" Wade rhythmically patted on the door.

You sat up as Logan climbed off of the bed and went to the door. He unlocked it, throwing it open far enough to greet Wade with his full frontal.

"Wade, for the last time, fuck off," Logan offered, leaning into the doorway.

Wade's eyes migrated carefully down Logan's torso, remapping everything he'd seen before, then barely dipped his eyes to take in his friend's hardened length.

"Oh, so you were 'polishing your claws'," Wade said with a wink. "And you don't need help with your honey badger?"

Logan snarled, earning Wade raising his hands in defeat. "Fair enough, I'll leave you to it. Hey, have you seen our other roomie? She's not in her room but her shoes are still here."

"Wade, they're fuckin'." Al called out from the living room. "Now go get some damn shwarma, 'cause I'm starving."

Wade laughed at Al, not taking it seriously until Logan opened the door further, showing you sat on his bed, in his shirt.

"And I wasn't invited? Come on!"

#fan work #fanfic #bakeneko #fanwork #bakeneko fanwork #logan howlett #logan howlet smut #logan x reader #logan wolverine #logan howlet x reader #james howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine #xmen wolverine

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mothman-etd · 1 year ago

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Just a PSA that "anonymous" and "confidential" employer surveys are not anonymous or confidential.

I just got a reminder that I have not filled out my survey, and there were 12 other employees CCed on that email. How did they know we specifically have not done the survey yet? Also now I know who has not done the survey, not exactly taking this confidential information all that seriously are we.

I am sure there is some HR/legal reason for making this claim but honestly I would have done the survey if it was not for the straight up lie that my name would not be tied to my answers.

#I really like the company I work at fyi #I just hate getting daily reminders to take a 'voluntary' survey #also the survey is just going to be used for HR propaganda anyways so make up your own bullshit

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bookshelf-dust · 7 days ago

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relief

evan buckley x fem!reader

gif by @suledins

PSA IF YOU’RE A MINOR: GET THE FUCK OFF MY PORCH BEFORE I WHOOP YOUR ASS. THIS FIC IS STRICTLY 18+. I RESPECT YOUR BOUNDARIES, YOU RESPECT MINE.

word count: 6,568

warnings: nsfw 18+ only; swearing, inexperienced!reader, mentions of therapy/insecurities regarding inexperience, conversations about sex, heavy petting, fingering

synopsis: buck is a walking golden retriever. when he asks you out for the first time and begins to learn more about his arson-investigating coworker, it’s easy to say he puts that eagerness to use.

a/n: this is the very first smut fic i have EVER written (aside from some old old dirty nsfw headcanons). that being said, please bear with me, because this stuff is hard!! shoutout to all the wonderful writers who do this all the time because phew! 🤧 i am pretty happy with how this turned out, and i’m proud of myself for writing for a new character and trying something totally different from my norm! i had no plan of direction for this fic when i started it, but i hope the end result will resonate with some of you, and if it doesn’t, i still hope it gives you some good feelings and a little escape from this fuck ass world <33

————

Evan Buckley is a hellishly gorgeous man. Oftentimes, you have to remind yourself that he’s real—that he’s not some sort of mirage, a result of your constant sleep deprived state. He’s the kind of breathtaking that you find to be unfair.

You started working for the 118 as their house arson investigator three months ago. Captain Nash soothed every nerve you had going in, showing you to your quaint little office, introducing you to everyone else in the house. You’d definitely needed the comfort of that transition, but hadn’t expected your colleagues to be so welcoming.

You were transferred as part of a greater Los Angeles initiative to create stronger communication and collaboration between the first responders and specialized investigators, as so much of their jobs go hand-in-hand. Although you’re pretty sure it’s only because the department heads get sick of answering follow-up questions about causes of fires—if people had insurance, if it was an accident or an attack, etc.

So they split up you and the rest of your original team into varying firehouses so that there would always be an arson investigator on hand. And if there’s any foul play, then the police can be contacted quicker, as the investigator becomes a direct source to target those issues. You’d complain about all these silly loopholes if it weren’t for the fact that you’d gotten a pretty raise for your trouble.

In truth, working with the 118 is the most useful you’ve felt in a long time. You know you’re good at your job, and you’d tell anyone who asked that you’ve done the work and you know that to be true. This opportunity has allowed you so much more field work than you could’ve imagined, which excites you. And there is the benefit of the eye-candy your coworker provides.

Which is why, each time Buck approaches you, you have to blink a few times, press your nails into your palm, do something to ground yourself so that you might be able to carry on a conversation with him. Tonight though, he’s managed to sneak up on you, giving you no time to seem more like a sociable human being.

“Hey, uh, you ever figure out the cause of that house fire from the other night?”

Buck is propped up against the door to your office, the air immediately responding to his presence, making everything feel lighter.

You look up from your desk, huff out a breath to try and blow the hair away from your eyes.

“Oh, hey, Buck. The house that the newlywed couple had just bought?”

Knowing him is enough to tell you that this particular fire would be the one to stick in his memory come week's end, the others being much too mundane for conversation.

Buck nods, a mischievous smirk appearing on his face.

“Yeah, actually,” you say, encouraged to continue. “Turns out the couple started it without even realizing. They didn’t remember everything at first, but after going over there and questioning them some more, they finally pieced it together.”

Buck steps a little further into your office. You watch as he bends at the waist, hands coming to rest on one of the squishy chairs across from you.

“How do you start a fire in your own house, and not notice?” he asks, that playful lilt to his voice reaching your ears.

Your cheeks burn, a flush running through your body and turning you hot, head to toe. You tap your pen against your wrist. This isn’t usually the kind of information you’re excited to share with your coworkers—not that they wouldn’t be entertained by it. It’s that they’ll all be too entertained by it.

“Well,” you cough, “turns out they were having a rather aggressive intimate moment and one thing led to another…” You trail off, hoping you won’t have to say it out loud. It was bad enough being in the room when they described their evening in detail, talking directly to one another like you really weren’t there.

Buck cocks his head at you, like a cat that’s just spotted a bug. “I don’t follow,” he says. His mouth quirks up the slightest bit at the corners.

You inhale, mustering up enough courage to blurt it out before this becomes any more awkward than it has to be.

“They were having sex in the kitchen and her ass bumped up against the stove top, turning on the burner. She’d grabbed onto a dish towel, for support or whatever, and when they moved it upstairs, she tossed the towel behind her and…”

“Neither of them noticed the fire because they were too caught up in the heat of the moment,” Buck finishes for you.

You nod, sucking your teeth just slightly. “Yep. What’s worse is after spending an hour digging around and talking to them, the wife went ‘You know, now that you say all this, I do remember my bum feeling hotter than usual before we made it to the bed.’” You roll your eyes.

Buck drags his hands down his cheeks, straightening. There’s a smile on his face when he says, “Well, I guess they say love makes you do crazy things.”

“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” you say, laughing a little tensely. You chance a bit of eye contact with him, realizing he’d already been staring at you for who knows how long. “Was there anything else you needed? Or just curious about the local arsonists?”

Buck chuckles, turning his face away from you momentarily.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to go out for drinks tonight.”

You glance at the clock on the upper right hand corner of your computer monitor. It reads 5:43. “Is it a special occasion or something? I feel like no one’s really done that since Chimney had a kid.”

Buck says your name. A knot forms in your throat. “I didn’t mean with everybody. I meant just the two of us.”

You blink. “Why?” You blurt out, the one syllable making you stutter.

His brows knit together. “Uh, so we can get to know each other better? I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious that I like you.”

You’re pretty sure steam might be coming out of your ears. “Um, well, I don’t like to assume. I mean, you’re a pretty flirty guy, you know?”

He says your name again as he plants his hands on your desk. Your pen falls out of your grasp. You’re mesmerized as you watch him pick it up and place it in the cup over to your left.

“This is Buck 3.0, remember? I don’t just flirt with anyone. Besides, flirting usually comes to me, what with being a sight for sore eyes and whatnot.”

You snort: this cute little laugh that comes straight from the back of your throat that Buck has grown to love.

Buck decides not to rile you up anymore. “So, drinks or no? I definitely won’t cry myself to sleep tonight if you say no.”

You facepalm. “Yeah, alright. Filling my bloodstream with alcohol might be exactly what I need right now.”

————

Two cosmos in, and you’re feeling a lot better. You’re grateful for having kept a pair of jeans and a relatively-okay-for-going-out top in your locker, allowing you to look somewhat presentable enough to be so near Buck for an entire evening.

So far it’s been pleasant, the both of you making small talk, you showing him pictures of your cat and him listening intently to all the antics said cat gets up to during the night.

You’re chewing on a bacon covered cheese fry when Buck speaks. “What did you mean earlier, when you said you didn’t like to assume? Like, not assuming a guy would be into you?”

You nod, pausing with your hand in front of your mouth while you swallow. “That’s exactly what I meant. This isn’t something that happens often.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me,” Buck says, taking another swig from his beer. If he’s not careful, he’s going to spill it down his shirtfront.

Your chest thumps with self-deprecation, the voices from the sides of your head—the ones that create that pressure behind your eyes—telling you this might be a great moment to talk shit about yourself. To air out all your faults to this man you probably don’t even deserve to be sitting across from. God knows he won’t be interested when he really gets to know you.

You inhale.

You’ve been in therapy long enough to know the power of positive thinking. You know that everyone is on a different, unique timeline—that things happen for everyone at different points in their lives.

But being inexperienced in all aspects of the romantic world is something you’ve carried shame for practically your entire adult life. Only you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let it consume you anymore. It’s your life, and you have the ability to change the way you think. That doesn’t mean your body doesn’t still react, though, doesn’t still flush with anger at how your life has gone thus far, like your veins don’t thrum as you think of all the vile comments you could say about yourself, the ways you could punish yourself for being the odd one out.

That’s why being approached by Buck in such a blunt, upfront way was such a shock to your system. That just doesn’t, or rather, it hasn’t ever happened to you.

And with Buck being who he is, it felt like even more of a fever dream. You almost wanted to spin around and tell them to cut the cameras, the lenses zooming in on your face—mockumentary style.

“I’m not though,” you say. “Guys don’t usually come up to me and ask me out on a date, or ask me anything really.”

Buck is staring at you intently, and you almost wonder if you went too far by calling this a date.

“Are you for real?”

“Well, I wish you wouldn’t say it like that, but yeah. I guess there’s just something about me that’s not super alluring to most men? That’s why I was so surprised by you.”

He waves his hands around gently. “I didn’t mean it like a bad thing, I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around that.”

You eat a few more cheese fries. “Why?”

He stutters for a few moments. “Because you’re just so…so perfect?” You snort, an air of sarcasm to it. “Like, for one, you’re super hot. You’ve got this whole shy but totally badass vibe about you, and you’re passionate and great at what you do. I guess I just can’t fathom there not being a line of guys wanting to jump your bones if you’ll let them.”

You laugh. It makes Buck smile.

“I appreciate that you think those things about me. For a long time, I thought that was pretty impossible. Guess when you go twenty four years without anyone actively pursuing you, you start to wonder.”

The table falls silent, and you finish your drink, thanking the waiter when he takes your empty glass, returning with a full cup of water for you.

“So, let me get this clear,” Buck says. Normally those words would freak you the fuck out, but you’re feeling a lot less tense now, less scared of talking about your situation. It’s not what you want, but it’s how it is. “No guy has ever asked you out. So you’ve never had a boyfriend? Never had a first kiss? Never had…sex? Or anything adjacent to it?”

“That’s right,” you say. “And the orgasms I’ve given myself don’t count towards the adjacent. So yeah, you’re right. It’s embarrassing, trust me, I know.”

Buck is still reeling from you saying the word orgasm out loud to him right now, not to mention the images flashing through his mind because of it. He pulls himself together.

“It’s not embarrassing. Are you embarrassed by it?”

You clear your throat. “I’m certainly not happy about it. Honestly, I’ve spent a lot of time wondering what it is that I’m missing that makes me so behind everyone else. And I’ve spent a lot of time being angry at myself. But it’s not like I can force those things to happen for me, you know?”

Buck gives you this look, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. A small grin makes an appearance on your face.

“Well, I mean, you could,” Buck says. “But I can see why you haven’t. In my experience, just hooking up with someone to get off, or just say you’ve done something, kinda makes you feel like shit.”

You wrap your hands around your cool glass, running your fingers up and down through the condensation.

“Unfortunately, I’m also a hopeless romantic. So I’ve thought about just hooking up with someone so that I’m not a virgin anymore, but that’s not what I want. I want a proper relationship and someone that cares about me and wants to be with me. Seems that’s a lot to ask for though.”

Buck reaches across the table and sets his hand on your wrist. “Hey, no, it’s not a lot to ask for. And it’s not bad to be a hopeless romantic! Honestly, I think there are more people like that than we know, but they do whatever to fit in. I am sorry that you’ve felt like this is something to be ashamed of. I can’t imagine how that feels. But I also think it means any relationship you’d have would be more successful because you’ve got your shit together already.”

That makes you laugh, just a little, and Buck is immediately thrilled, fully taking your hand in his. You don’t even have it in you to argue with him. For once, you just listen and try to see yourself through his eyes.

“Well, I do appreciate you saying all of that, Buck. It’s only that I’ve been patient for so long, and I’m starting to think being wanted isn’t in the cards for me.”

Your gaze has dropped to the glossy table in front of you. You can see the reflections from the overhead televisions, from other patrons walking by, waiters carrying trays of drinks. Buck squeezes your hand in a way that makes you lock eyes with him.

“So…what is it you think this is then?”

You blink. You have absolutely no response in your brain that would be the appropriate answer for this question.

“You asked me out for drinks.”

His grip on your hand moves up to your wrist, and a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his thumb press into your pulse. This is the most contact you’ve ever had with a man. Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of his skin on yours, the feeling of his calloused palms, shockingly cool and free of sweat, much to the contrary of your own. Your heart begins to race when it finally catches up. Maybe it’s better that this is coming on so unexpectedly.

“And…” Buck says.

You cough even though absolutely nothing is tickling your throat. “You said you wanted to get to know me better.”

If it’s possible, Buck’s smile gets bigger. “Because?”

“You said you liked me?”

“Atta girl!” He teases. A shock of heat shoots straight from your throat down to your low belly. You pray he can’t see it on your face. Luckily, he continues talking. “So, now that we’re clear on me having a thing for you, what would you like to do with that information?”

You take a quick sip of water, mouth suddenly dry. “Well, my immediate thought is that I should run away and hide because in my head, a potential relationship, or whatever, sounds great but right now? Right here with you touching my hand and looking at me? It sounds kind of terrifying.”

Buck starts with the reading again, sliding his thumb further up until it’s nestled in the center of your forearm. It makes you shiver and his eyes flash.

“Sounds like we’ve gotta get you out of that head of yours and into the present.”

————

With therapy, you’ve gotten exponentially better at learning how to breathe, how to focus on what’s happening right now, so that you don’t spiral out of control just thinking about what might be happening in a few hours, days, weeks. Being more present is something you’ve learned. That is, in your daily life. But when you’re not used to interacting with men, these feelings are so strange, uncomfortable and scary.

Your imagination can only take you so far, and you’re accustomed to those limitations. Not knowing what a kiss feels like, not knowing the feeling of anyone else’s touch but your own, not being able to properly picture what might happen to your mind and body when in physical contact with someone you want.

It’s both exciting—sitting here, in Buck’s Jeep, as he drives you home, imagining that those feelings might finally be attainable—and nerve wracking, because how does any of this really work?

Reading about relationships, hearing about your best friend’s escapades, watching a love scene on tv—it’s all different than really experiencing it. Truthfully, it feels like there’s a part of your brain focused on dissociating so that your heart doesn’t fall out of your ass or so that you don’t go into hiding before anything can happen.

By the time Buck pulls into your driveway, you’re feeling like hiding might be your safest bet.

He stops the car, turns off the engine. “Let me walk you to your door?”

You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt with shaky hands.

Buck follows you up the short sidewalk and up to your little front porch. You both pause under your outside lights, listening to the sound of crickets screeching from the shrubs. He puts his hands in his pockets and starts to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“So, uh, you were kinda quiet on the way here…did I freak you out earlier? Because if I didn’t, I didn’t mean—”

“No!” you blurt. “You didn’t freak me out, you made me hopeful, actually, I think I’m just afraid of all that romantic stuff because I’ve never done it before…”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, of course it’s a little nerve wracking, but wouldn’t it make you happy to experience those things? Like say, a hug, for starters?”

“Are you trying to hug me right now?” You deadpan, though excitement is thrumming through your veins, blocking out any hesitance.

“Well, actually, I was hoping to kiss you, but warm up to it first, you know?” Buck says, a teasing lilt to his voice, a naughty smirk playing on his lips. You wish there was another word for it, but there’s not.

You freeze. Your face has got to be on fire. You bring your hands to your cheeks, covering yourself from his view.

Buck chuckles. Loosely, he circles your wrists. “Hey, don’t hide. What’s wrong?”

You’ve glued your hands to your face. “You’re making me sweat, Buckley.”

If at all possible, this makes him smile bigger, laugh harder, insanely pleased with himself. You hear the rustling of his coat as he leans down, leveling his lips with the shell of your ear. “Is that such a bad thing?” he whispers.

You pull away quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Not fair!” you joke. “But, I would like a hug…”

At your consent, he’s on you immediately. If you thought he was big just looking at him, having his body pressed to yours, in the most beautiful bear hug embrace you’ve ever experienced, he seems impossibly huge. It makes it feel like you’re the only person in the world. He’s so warm, so solid. His arms are around your back. He’d helped guide yours around his neck, but you’re so dazed that you hadn’t noticed.

God, he’s so tall. You can feel the soft of his tummy, and you’re afraid that if you stay like this for too long you won’t ever be able to get through another day without craving the contact. His hair is surprisingly smooth where you feel it against your cheek. His form practically swallows you whole. Not to mention how nice he smells. You’ve never been able to understand those lines in your romance novels, talking about spice and man and ginger whatever. But now you do. He smells like vanilla shampoo and woody body wash.

“This is so nice,” you mumble into the side of his neck, way before you can talk yourself out of it. You can feel Buck’s laugh against your chest. It feels amazing. It’s like an out of body experience.

He pulls back just enough so that he can look at you, but he doesn’t remove his arms, only shifts so that his hands are gently grasping your waist. You’ve never felt this way before—like all your nerves are being sent into overdrive. You’re alive with the smallest of touches.

“I genuinely can’t fathom how any man has ever looked at you and not wanted to make you theirs on the spot. I could scoop you up and keep you all to myself right now.”

This time you manage to maintain eye contact with him. You grin, biting the inside of your lip. “Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m feeling really brave right now so if you were serious about that kissing stuff, this might be the time to act.”

Buck tosses his head back, gleeful laughter filling the small space of your front porch. Even so, his hands move up to the sides of your neck, fingers warm against your skin. “You’re sure?” he asks, his thumb caressing your pulse. He feels a kick of cockiness knowing he’s done that to you.

“I’m sure,” you say. Nod your head one firm time.

“Maybe your cheek first? As a warm up?”

You nod again. You’ve officially steeled yourself. Buck bends to meet you, tilting your head back just slightly so that he can reach you from a better angle. His hand cups the back of your neck as he presses his lips to your cheek. He’s so sure of himself, so passionate about this small thing, that it feels sensual. It puts you in a trance. His lips remain on your cheek for just a minute, the beginnings of stubble scratching at your skin. You have the urge to giggle like a frenzied teen.

“How was that?”

You bite your lip, hating the way you’re buzzing with adrenaline, filling with excitement at all these new sensations. But more so, you feel so special. So seen. You feel fuller than you ever have before at being treated so gently, being cherished and looked at like you’re this precious being. “I really, really liked it,” you tell him.

“Well, I’m glad.” He winks. “I did too.” He relishes in your little giggle. “How about a real one before we call it a night?”

You’re nodding again. “Yes. I would like that very much. I just want you to know that I might be really bad at it and I’m probably gonna embarrass myself and it’s probably going to be the worst, most awful kiss you’ve ever had and—”

Buck’s lips are on yours, successfully shutting you up. You squeak.

In truth, it does feel pretty awkward for the first few seconds, buck Buck takes it in stride. Doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, just takes what you’re giving him and guides you in a better direction. He tips your head back again, slotting his lips over yours and pressing himself to you. Your brain goes completely quiet. You can’t think or feel anything that isn’t Buck. This feeling spreads throughout your body, easing the ache in your chest, making you feel light on your toes.

Relief.

You admittedly have no idea what you’re doing but try your best to follow his lead, trying to kiss him back with as much passion as you’re feeling inside, tentatively threading your fingers through his hair, setting a hand on his chest. At one point, his tongue runs over your bottom lip and you shiver. Buck’s hand flies to the small of your back, keeping you grounded. You let it happen, curious as to how it might feel. You don’t have words. He licks into your mouth, and you giggle. It makes him smile and he separates from you long enough to enquire what’s got you laughing.

“I just realized what people mean when a couple looks like they’re eating each other's faces. It’s really nice, actually. Not as gross as people make it out to be.”

Buck snorts. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, already scrambling to get his mouth back on yours. He doesn’t feel like teasing, letting you pull him down, letting you try and lead this one. You’re so gentle—trying to figure out the right way, the way that works for the both of you, to kiss him. He likes that you treat him so carefully.

When you finally end the kiss, you break the silence created by an intense few minutes of eye contact. “Was I bad? You can tell me, I know I was a little clumsy at the least.”

“Nah, not bad,” Buck says. “You’re a quick learner. I enjoyed it. Ten out of ten, would do it again.”

“Me too. Practice makes perfect, right?”

————

For the past few weeks, things with Buck have been going well. Since that first night out, he’s prioritized getting to know you better, spending time with you that doesn’t revolve around a nasty fire and the plethora of causes it may or may not have had. Time that doesn’t allow for any of your coworkers to pick and tease.

Buck is starting to feel like one of your best friends. That was cemented the night he watched you play Resident Evil 7: Biohazard, enraptured by how quickly you were solving the puzzles and taking down those grimy basement monsters that, frankly, scared the shit out of him. You only told him that you’d played at least four times at the end of the evening. But hey, all your romance novels have told you that the best relationships are based on solid friendships.

You’ve had the opportunity to kiss him more, some of it sweet and exploratory, you being courageous enough to ask Buck how he likes to be kissed, if he likes it when you tug his hair, if there’s anything you can change or do differently. He’ll only answer those questions if you do first, telling him what’s working and what you want more of. As useful as all of this communication is, it was tremendously embarrassing to share your intimate thoughts with him at first.

Some of the kissing has gotten a bit heavier. The first time you sat in his lap ran through your mind constantly for days after, appearing in your dreams, day and night. You couldn’t get over the way he felt beneath you—solid, warm, so real. How he sounded when he kissed you, how his hands felt on your hips and the curve of your ass. How it had felt when he’d encouraged you to grind against him for the first time. You hadn’t meant to moan, but it was like relief had shot through you. Like your imagination was finally getting to take a break because now you were actually doing the things you imagined. You felt so alive, so powerful, feeling him get hard between your legs, hearing the strain in his voice as he encouraged you to keep moving until you finished.

Tonight is the first night of your long weekend. Neither of you have shifts for the next few days, and you took it upon yourself to ask if he’d like to stay over, maybe get takeout and watch a movie or something. It hadn’t been meant as a request with the hope that it would turn into something more. Frankly, you’ve been feeling more shy since that moment you shared a few weeks ago.

You hadn’t expected to watch a movie in your bed instead of on the couch, hadn’t expected to pause it halfway through because Buck’s stare was practically burning a hole through the side of your head and you had to figure out what was up.

“You’re staring, Buck. Is something wrong?”

He’d laughed. It was unlike a laugh you’d heard from him before. It felt sensual. It felt laced with want.

“Nah, nothing’s wrong. I just can’t get you out of my head.”

Your eyebrows had bunched together. “But…I’m right here. Shouldn’t that help?” That laugh again.

“That’s not what I mean, sweetheart. I mean that I can’t stop thinking about fucking you with my fingers.”

And that’s how you’d ended up on your back, head pressed to your pillows, with Buck hovering over you. He’s kissing you, dragging his tongue over the sides of your neck and kissing a trail back right back up. His hand is resting on your collarbone, fingers tilting you up to him.

“How’s this feel?” he asks, voice muffled against your shoulder.

“G-good,” you manage. “Really good.”

He pulls back, sitting back on his knees and setting his hands on your thighs. “Yeah? You’ve been squirming an awful lot.”

The heat radiating off of you, the way you cover your mouth with the back of your hand is enough of a response. Buck doesn’t say anything more, the both of you sitting in silence for a few minutes. He knows you want to say something. But he won’t force it out of you. He’ll wait until you use your words.

“Buck?” Your voice is a whisper. He hums. You clear your throat, and he bites his lip to hide the pride racing through him at knowing he’s got you all flustered. “What you said before, about touching me? I want you to do it.”

“Yeah?” His smile is so gorgeous, so cocky, and if you weren’t so dazed with lust you might reach out and smack him.

“Yeah,” you say. You give him your best, pleading eyes. That’s the first time you’ve ever looked at him that way, and Buck knows that he’s gonna give in any time you do from here on out. He leans back down, kissing you again. You take one of his hands and bring it between your legs, encouraging him to cup you. “You’ve been kissin’ me like that for so long…already feel pretty wound up.”

He nudges your nose with his, a smirk playing on his lips. He sets his palm down against you, over your shorts. The heel digs into your clit and he starts rubbing you, slow, but firm enough that you gasp. Your hips buck.

“Honestly,” he says, “I’d thought about teasing you, but I feel like you deserve this, after all that patient waiting you’ve done. Is that what you want?”

His middle finger presses over your hole. You’re so warm. He can feel how damp you’ve gotten, that you’ve started to soak through your panties.

“Please,” you breathe. “Want you to touch me, so bad, Buck.” You brace your hands on his shoulders, feeling like all this pent up sexual energy is just begging to come out. You feel feral.

“Okay, baby, okay. Let me get your shorts off, alright?” He taps your hip and you lift up, letting him slide them down your legs.

“Oh, um,” he pauses, a concerned look on his face. “I just wanted to tell you, I-I haven’t shaved or anything. I mean, I trimmed like a week ago, but, if that bothers you, I-”

“Hey, no big deal,” Buck says. “Doesn’t matter to me. Not ever gonna stop me from making my girl feel good.”

My girl.

That alone felt like an orgasm.

He pulls your panties down, and you feel heat rising to your face when he marvels at how they stick to you. But the second Buck lays eyes on your perfect little pussy, he’s the one feeling dazed.

“How no one has ever touched you like this…” He licks a stripe up your inner thigh. “How no one has ever told you how much they fucking want you, never fallen on their knees for you…” He spreads your legs farther, shamelessly trying to memorize every detail of you. “Is beyond me.”

Buck sets his middle and ring finger on the hood of your clit, starting to rub you in slow, agonizing circles.

“Because I feel like I could devour you right now.”

Your feet slide up the bedsheets, legs bending at the knee and allowing Buck to get more comfortable as he settles between them. Buck sets his chin on top of your knee. He’s watching his own hand and how it moves over you. His left hand is pushing up your t-shirt just a little so that he’s massaging the fat of your hip. For a moment he pictures holding onto said hips while he fucks you for the first time, imagines what sounds you might make, and he has to keep himself from letting out a moan.

Buck slides his fingers down to circle your hole, reveling in how soft your skin is, how warm and messy and perfect. He gathers some of your arousal on the tips of his fingers, dragging it up through your lips and over your clit.

“How’s that feel?” he asks. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

You swallow hard, looking up at him. “Feels good. When you do t-that—jesus—the up and down? It’s so nice, but the circles, that’s what will get me to—”

“That’s what’ll get you to come all over my fingers?”

You moan. It’s high pitched and whiny, a sound you didn’t know you could make. You force the words out of your throat. “Yes.”

“You wanna take a finger now?” Buck kisses your knee. You’re pretty sure he’s sucked a hickey into the skin above it while you’ve been otherwise distracted.

“Please, please, Buck, I need to know how it feels—fuck!”

Buck’s fingers are bigger than yours. Much bigger. The sight of him hovering above you, his eyes almost black, burning with desire for you, really does you in. He starts slow: a few soft thrusts of his finger rubbing your walls, exploring the inside of you.

Then he curls his finger upwards. Your eyes roll back in your head and at the same time your body gives away how fucking turned on you are, how desperate you are for him—and it’s loud.

You’re so wet that your pussy squelches. Something about that sound flips a switch in Buck, and you’re crying out as he adds a second finger, curling them both, clearly enjoying the filthy sounds you’re making.

Buck pushes your knee down and away, settling completely beside you, propped up so he can see your face properly while he’s fingering you within an inch of your life. The way he’s looking at you tells you that he’s going to make you come soon. He’s making it a mission. He wants your orgasm as much as you do. He needs it.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. ‘M so glad you let me help out this time. I bet you’ve spent so many nights spread out on this bed, fucking yourself, doing all the work alone.”

Buck’s fingers are making you brainless. You feel blissful, so serene, so calm, so fucking good. He keeps curling his fingers, scissoring them every once in a while. You want to tell him that you can’t usually come just from this, that you need external stimulation. You grab onto his bicep.

“Yeah, yeah, Buck—I have. You’re takin’ such good care of me.” He slows down his ministrations, letting you take a breather. Letting you gather your thoughts before he pushes you over the edge. You cup his cheek, pull him down for a kiss. He’s practically got hearts in his eyes.

“Need you to play with my clit, B-Buckley. W-won’t come without it. I wanna come.”

You look down, suddenly entranced by the way Buck’s fingers are moving inside you. He follows your gaze, chuckling to himself. “You like to watch, pretty girl? Guess next time I’ll have to get you a mirror.”

Buck pulls his fingers out of your pussy and you whine. You shiver. You feel so empty. But all is forgotten when he puts the very same fingers that were just inside of you into his mouth. He maintains eye contact with you while he sucks them clean. You moan, despite the fact that he’s not touching you. It’s just so fucking sexy.

His hand returns to your drenched skin, fingers pressing firmly against your clit.

“Where’s that spot, huh?” he asks. “Show me where it feels the best.” You guide him, a little to your left, that spot on the hood of your clit, not directly on it where the stimulation will be too much, but the spot that has you arching your back, quite possibly more revved up than you ever have been before.

Buck is quick to begin soothing those precise little circles again, a look of determination on his face. For a moment, neither of you say anything. There’s only the sound of your breathing, the wet, filthy sound of him rubbing at your clit.

That telltale heat spreads its way through your low belly, through the tops of your thighs, through your pelvis, up your spine. It’s right there, you think.

“Fuck, I’m—” The words are barely out of your mouth by the time your orgasm washes over you, making the room go fuzzy, shrouding you in pure, thoughtless bliss. He fucks you through it, rubbing you until you’re twitching, successfully overstimulated.

You lay there, covered in a sheen of sweat, attempting to restore your breathing to a normal rhythm when he comes back with a damp cloth. You’d been able to tell him where they were, tell him you could clean yourself up, but he insisted. He wipes you off, gets you clean underwear and a fresh t-shirt.

You sit on the edge of your bed, taking in your surroundings, taking in your own feelings about what you’ve just done. You feel so nice. So special. Confident in yourself and your body.

You feel happy. Having this little piece of you cared for so well doesn’t make you whole. You didn’t need the experience to feel complete, or like it made you normal. But you do feel powerful. This was just the icing on top of the cake. Something of a treat. You wish you could think of another way to put it, but you feel like a badass woman.

Buck’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He bumps your shoulder.

“I was gonna ask if you enjoyed yourself, but…I mean, I did kind of see that you did.”

You laugh, taking his hand in both of yours. “I did, Buck. I’m glad I got to do that with you. It was perfect for me.”

He shoots you a wink. “Good. And I did wanna preface that I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to do all the other stuff.” He watches the way your eyes crinkle up as you smile.

“I look forward to doing all that other stuff with you. But for now…wanna have a sleepover?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

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ckret2 · 3 days ago

Text

Chapter 84 of human Bill Cipher getting a day pass out of being the Mystery Shack's prisoner: so it turns out Bill and Pacifica have a lot in common! And it's not weird at all! It's—it's very normal. Their childhoods were so normal.

(Since this entire chapter is from the point of view of a character who doesn't know the person she's talking to is Bill, a PSA for those of y'all who missed it. Thanks.)

####

"Okay, that's as much as I can do to help your hair without deep conditioning it," Pacifica said. "Now let's talk about styling it."

They were back in Pacifica's office, with Goldie seated in his folding chair and Mabel sitting in Pacifica's desk chair (slowly spinning it back and forth) as Pacifica lectured them. Pacifica had given Goldie a spare t-shirt to dry his hair with (you could never have too much spare clothing on hand when you were dealing with farm animals), but he'd just loosely wrapped it around his hair and promptly ignored it.

Pacifica said, "You've got this issue where the weight of your curls pulls the top of your hair down and makes it flatten out near your scalp—but your hair's all the same length, so it really flares out near your shoulders. It's called triangle hair and it is not a cute look."

Goldie and Mabel bit their lips and exchanged a look, and Pacifica got the distinct impression that she'd accidentally reminded them about some inside joke she wasn't part of.

Trying to ignore the feeling that she was being left out of something, Pacifica cleared her throat and went on. "So, uh—you can fix it with like, layering your haircut and stuff? But. I don't actually... know how to do that." All her knowledge of curly hair and its care—much less fashionable haircuts—came from fashion and beauty magazines, which covered things like shampoo and flattering styles but assumed you'd leave the actual hair-cutting to the professionals. "So. I can get your curls presentable, and I guess we can figure out a way to pin it that looks nice? But that's the best I can do without an emergency salon trip."

"You sure we can't leave the triangle hair?" Goldie asked innocently. "I think it's cute. It really feels like me." Mabel clapped a hand over her mouth and snorted.

Pacifica raised her brows. "Do you want to feel like you, or do you want to get the guy?"

"Right, of course," Goldie said. "I almost forgot what's really important!"

Pacifica passed Goldie her phone. "Here—I wasn't sure what kind of look you were going for so I saved a few pictures of curly hair styles, let me know if you like any of these." She searched through the collection of makeup on her desk for the bobby pins and hair ties she'd picked up earlier. "The trend this year is for slicked-back styles, braids, and buns—but your curls are so pretty, I'd hate to hide them."

Mabel leaned halfway across the desk to try to see the pictures too; Goldie's held out the phone to meet her halfway as as he scrolled—and scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled. He said, "Good job narrowing down the list to a modest two hundred pictures."

Pacifica said, "Excuse me for wanting you to have options."

Mabel pointed. "Awww, look at that one with all the little butterfly hair clips!"

"It's like butterflies are eating her brain."

"And they look adorable doing it."

"Too juvenile for me. It looks like something Prisma the fairy would wear," Goldie said. "You should wear it."

Mabel's eyes lit up. "You've got to help me make fifty butterfly hair clips."

"You got it." He closed out of Pacifica's pictures, opened up the browser, and awkwardly typed in a search. "Hey, Alpaca, look at this one."

That was the second time he'd called her that. "Do you actually know my name?"

"Rapunzel." He held up a picture of some seventies movie star with thick, feathery hair that fluffed out around her face like the wings of a panicked swan trying to take off. "Think you can pull this one off?"

Pacifica grimaced. "You'd look like my mom." Except even worse and more old fashioned. (She kept that part to herself.)

Flatly, he said, "Oh no, how will I ever convince a male that I'm a prize worth winning if I literally look like a trophy wife."

That would be just about the only part of Goldie that looked like a trophy wife. (She kept that part to herself too.) "And we'd have to give you bangs."

As she suspected, Goldie grimaced and flipped to another image. At least he knew bang weren't for him. "How 'bout this one?"

It looked like a solid helmet of hair, with the ends uniformly curled outward like the embarrassing forced-whimsical hairstyle of the minions of an insane chocolatier. "Ew. That's about the only thing that could make you look even worse than you already do."

"Pacifica," Mabel said sharply. "Be nice!"

"Sorry!" She'd kept so many parts to herself that she didn't have any spare room to keep that part. "I can't do it, anyway. It would need a flat iron and a curling iron, and I don't have either."

"Can't we get some?" Goldie asked. "Any drug store should have 'em, it's a fifteen minute walk to—"

"I don't use them," Pacifica said sharply.

Goldie's stare was like a heat lamp—or maybe that was just self-consciousness heating up Pacifica's face as he scrutinized her. But after several long seconds, Goldie's gaze turned off her face. She quietly sighed in relief.

"Okay," he said. "Then this one." He showed her another picture. It had curly shoulder-length bangs, which wasn't really in style but fine, but behind them was a bouffant shaped like a deflating basketball with a wilting palm tree sprouting out of it.

Pacifica cringed. It was, unfortunately, doable. A note of pleading in her voice, she asked, "Are you really into this look? Really?"

("I think it's pretty," Mabel muttered.)

"Oh, no way!" Goldie said. "Look at that mess! That's way too much effort for a 'do that looks like she did it drunk in the dark in under two minutes."

(Mabel looked at Goldie like he'd personally betrayed her.)

"But," he went on, "it's what our guy is into, and that's what matters here. Right?"

Pacifica studied the picture dubiously. "You're sure?"

"He went through puberty in the 70s! When his libido opened its eyes for the first time, this is what it imprinted on."

Pacifica bit her lip. Well. At least Goldie didn't think it looked good, but. "Can I at least improve it a little?"

"Oh, please!"

She picked up the comb again and grabbed a couple of bobby pins. "No promises, but I'll do what I can."

Pacifica talked a big game, but in truth, she knew a lot more about the theory of hairstyles than she did about actually styling hair. You don't have to film a blockbuster to be a film critic. So at that point, all she could do was experiment with Goldie's hair as she attempted to approximate the picture he'd shown her. She circled around him as she worked—putting in pins, taking them out, occasionally asking him his opinion.

But although Goldie had previously been a non-stop chatterer, the moment she'd started working on his hair, he'd fallen silent.

He only glanced in the hand mirror she'd given him when she prompted him, and then only to give one-word answers—usually "fine." His shoulders were as tense and his mouth as tight as Pacifica's had been the first time she had to wash alpaca poop off the bottom of a boot. And Pacifica had nearly vommed, so, that was pretty serious.

Why? It couldn't be pain. Pacifica had gotten all the knots out of his hair earlier—and even when she wasn't using the comb, it was like she couldn't even move a lock of his hair without him wincing. She kept wanting to apologize even though she was just doing what he wanted her to.

There was something going on here. It wasn't just how uncomfortable he was with being touched. There was also the way he did an awful job of washing his hair even though he knew how to perfectly well. And how he'd rather let Mabel brush his hair into a frizzy mess than comb it out himself. And beyond all that, the first thing Pacifica had ever learned about him was that he'd gotten his hair melted off and needed emergency help to grow it back. "You... really don't like your hair, do you?"

"I like it fine. It's gorgeous." He was speaking through gritted teeth, and he had his legs crossed with his feet under his thighs, palms up in lap, eyes fixed on the blanket Mabel had made, as though having a staring contest with the triangle creep would help him endure the torture without flinching. "I just—don't like messing with it."

"Which is fine," Mabel cut in. "Because I like brushing it!" She quickly amended herself: "Combing it. We've got like a symbiotic relationship going on."

"Yeah! Star girl's my personal stylist! She does my hair and makeup. I wouldn't deprive her of that honor!"

Pacifica nodded slowly. Right—all that, and he was defensive about not taking care of it.

Not embarrassed because he didn't take care of it, it dawned on her; embarrassed because he couldn't take care of it. She had a sense for those sorts of things—a middle school queen bee had to develop that sense—because that was what you targeted if you really wanted to humiliate someone: something that they couldn't help. That was it, wasn't it? He'd said he was apathetic about his body; he didn't care that his hair was messy. Because if he did care that it was messy, he would have done something about it. Unless he couldn't. Like, a mental block.

As she tried for the eighth time to gather the bulk of his hair into an updo that looked sorta fun and casual without looking stupid, she turned over everything she knew about him—about his hair, his apathy, his shame... the things he'd said to her the moment they met, before they even got started.

It wasn't a logical deduction so much as it was an instinct, and just looking at Goldie it seemed impossible; but still she said, hesitantly, "Your mom made you do pageants as a kid, didn't she?"

Mabel sat up a little straighter, confused; but Goldie turned around to stare at her, dumbfounded. "How— What—makes you think that?"

Oh please. He wasn't fooling anyone, it was all over his face. "You're so weird about your hair. It's obviously trauma from your mom."

Beneath his sunburn, Goldie's burned cheeks somehow managed to flush even darker. He gaped at her, wide-eyed and terrified, like she was a psychic who had just told him how his own parents had died. He croaked, "What?"

Pacifica burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh, you should see your face! Listen, you're clearly familiar with pageant life. And I saw so many curly girls getting their hair mauled by their moms half an hour before going on stage. I don't blame you for being weird about touching it! I had it easy—" she flipped her naturally straight hair, "—but even at that, I can't stand using a flat iron to this day."

Goldie relaxed, apparently reassured that Pacifica hadn't read his mind. He settled back in his seat. "Oh, I dunno, I find the smell of burning hair comforting! It reminds me of home!"

"Ha! Okay, yeah, you do get used to it after a while." She started attempt number nine to gather up his curls. "I wouldn't have guessed when you came in. You don't look like a... I mean... you know. No offense."

"Well, duh, you can't tell now." He gestured at himself, "I lost my good looks. What I wouldn't give to have my old body back..." He sighed wistfully.

Pacifica held back a snort. Oh yeah. More than anything else he'd said so far, that convinced her he really was a former pageant kid. In her experience, every single pageant mom trying to relive her own beauty queen glory days through her daughter said things exactly like that.

Mabel said, "Aww..." She stretched a hand out toward Goldie, couldn't reach him across Pacifica's enormous desk, and with a grunt heaved herself up to lay across the top—knocking over a couple of the cosmetic supplies Pacifica had set up in the process—so she could pat his shoulder. "There, there."

"Thanks."

She slid back into her seat. "Did you really do pageants? You didn't tell me that." A note of betrayal crept into her voice.

"I didn't tell her either—" he jabbed a thumb at Pacifica, "—but here we are!" (Pacifica shrugged unapologetically.) "I've got a lotta backstory you're still catching up on."

"Well, yeah, but—you said you just did..." She grasped for the right words, and settled on, "build-y stuff with pageants."

"I didn't say that," he said breezily. Mabel scowled at him; but shot a look at Pacifica, and just sat back without saying anything, arms crossed, her feet audibly kicking at the inside of the desk.

He didn't seem as stressed about his hair while he was talking, Pacifica noticed. (Maybe that was why hairdressers were so chatty? Or maybe just because it was kind of weird to stick your hands in someone's hair for an hour in total silence.) She asked, "Which pageant systems did you compete in?"

"None you'd have heard about," Goldie said. "They weren't on this continent and it was like a trillion years ago." Before Pacifica could pry about which continent, he added, "Hey, fun fact! Didja know that the first beauty contest in Oregon was established here in Gravity Falls?"

"Pff, duh, of course I know that," Pacifica said. "It was established by the town founder, my great-great grandpa."

"Close, but no," he said gleefully. "It was established by the real town founder."

Pacifica grimaced. "Him? The crazy undead guy without pants? Ugh, no wonder we're the only pageant with a mandatory bird calls category."

"The first three competitions were actually won by birds! They only added a fashion category to balance out the birds' unfair advantage at birdsong. Quentin resigned from the judges' panel in protest."

"He should've taken the dumb birdsong requirement with him," Pacifica muttered. "They make the kids pageant do it too. I had to get a private tutor to learn how to whistle."

"That sounds fun, though," Mabel said. "I can do bird song! Grunkle Ford taught me some. Listen to this!" She let out an admittedly impressive moo.

"Not a bad cowl call," Goldie said. "You woulda killed it at the accompanying bird costume requirement."

Mabel gasped. "I can make feather wings. Hey, do you think I could compete?"

"Not unless you move to Oregon."

"Aww."

"We can still make wings, though," Goldie said.

Pacifica had never had to deal with the dumb bird costume requirement, thank goodness. That only started in the teen brackets. Which made her wonder—"How old were you when you quit? Pretty young, right? Like, no offense, but if you need teenagers to do your makeup..." If Goldie was living as a guy now, it'd make sense if he didn't wear makeup day-to-day; but if he'd stuck with pageants past like age ten, he would have at least learned how to do his own makeup.

"Ha! You're right. I started when I was young enough that my mom could dust glitter on my butt without getting weird looks! I quit around... equivalent to third or fourth grade in the States? She wanted me to keep going—so I said, 'You want me to perform? Fine then—I'll put on the best performance you've ever seen.' And that's exactly what I did!" Thoughtfully, he added, "But for some reason I didn't win the talent portion. I guess the judges weren't impressed that I could play the piano and set it on fire at the same time."

Pacifica cracked up. "Okay wow—I retired during the talent portion too, but how you did it is way more exciting. The year I was aging out of the 9-11 bracket, I kinda had a meltdown on stage over losing to some girl with a hula hoop? Yeah, I did not win supreme that year."

"You shoulda won talent just for that scream! You hit some impressively high notes." At Pacifica's odd look, Goldie said, "Saw it online."

Figured. That was probably coming back to haunt her in ten years. "It's weird. There's like... two ways pageant girls go—er, girls or guys or... whatever."

"Whatever," Goldie agreed.

"Yeah. Either they make it part of their identity? And keep up the makeup and fashion and everything, sometimes stick with pageants as teens or start modeling professionally? Which is what I did. Or they totally burn out, don't want anythingto do with the beauty industry, and just, like, wear sweats forever."

With a faint air of wounded pride, Goldie said, "It's the bedsheet sarong, isn't it."

"No offense! I'm just saying."

"I'll have you know it's laundry day and Jesús stole my clean clothes instead of my dirty laundry." (Pacifica decided to forgive him for the weird fish smell.) "You're looking at me at a low point, kid. I was actually a pretty snappy dresser up until... lllast summer."

Hearing Goldie call her kid gave Pacifica a little jolt of surprise. For a moment, she'd forgotten she was talking to somebody with an age; she'd started to feel like she was being visited by the immortal Spirit of Washed-Up Former Pageant Children. As if he'd died and stopped aging the same time he retired. "What happened last summer?"

Goldie looked at Mabel. "Yeah, what did happen last summer?"

"Um." Mabel froze. "He... lost it all in a... um... overseas parrot circus venture! Yeah—all the trained parrots escaped before the opening night of the circus and he lost all his money."

Goldie let out a shrill cackle. "I like that, I'm keeping that."

Okay, got it, it wasn't any of Pacifica's business. "I think... this is the best I can do with your hair." She stepped back. "Unless you want to pick a style that doesn't suck."

He gave himself a cursory glance in the hand mirror, immediately lowered it, and said, "Sucky style's fine!"

"Don't say that, you look so beautiful," Mabel said. "You look like a babysitter!"

"Well, it doesn't get much better than that." He dropped the mirror on the desk. "What's next?"

####

Next—finally—was the part they'd actually come here for: the makeup.

"Okay, I tried to get around the eyepatch while I was doing your hair, but you've got to take it off for this part," Pacifica said.

He groaned, but muttered, "Fine, I've put up with this tyranny so far," removed it, and looked at her with his previously-covered eye squinted against the light—which was the point at which Pacifica realized that he had eyepatch tan lines... around his other eye. How???

There was no fixing that before tomorrow. She bit her lips, shut her eyes, pressed her hands together, and took in a deep breath. Okay. She could handle this.

"Why do you even wear this?" She tossed the eyepatch to Mabel—it was one of those cheap costume pirate-y looking patches. "Is this one of the Mystery Shack's gimmicky touristy things? Both your eyes work! And wearing an eyepatch when you obviously don't need it is just tacky."

"I've got a neurological condition! Seeing through two eyes messes up my depth perception," Goldie said. "I get migraines if I don't keep one covered! Which is admittedly the most fun thing you can do to your brain without involving narcotics, but it makes it hard to keep down lunch!"

"Oh," Pacifica mumbled. Maybe she should just get to work before she shoved her foot any deeper in her mouth.

She started by slapping aloe vera on as much sunburned skin as she could reach, handed over the jar with strict instructions to apply more in the morning, and gave him an emphatic lecture on sunburns and sunscreen and skin damage that petered out when he cheerfully started telling her about skin cancer statistics. She changed the topic when he started listing his favorite kinds of skin cancer.

She stripped off the nail polish that Goldie had apparently gotten during one of Mabel's sleepovers, and repainted it with, at Pacifica's insistence, something more "mature." (She vetoed Mabel's suggestion to paint little hearts. She vetoed Goldie's request for gold. She gave him the choice between white French tips, pale pink, or solid red. He chose red.)

She hadn't anticipated that her customer would be in such dire straits that she'd need to shave him, so she didn't have any supplies for that; but she also ordered him to get his legs as smooth as the surface of a balloon as soon as he got home—"And do you think there's any chance this guy you're after will see your pits?" "He already has!" "Hm. Okay. Yeah, uh, get those anyway."—and informed him that she would report him to the police for vandalism if he "shaved" using whatever depilatory cream he'd previously used on his hair.

As she finished plucking his brows, she said, "Okay, I think you're finally in decent enough condition for actual makeup." She stepped back, took in his face, and said, "Barely." She grimaced. "I wish I'd bought a concealer with better coverage. I didn't know the situation was so bad."

To his credit, Goldie had taken her criticism (and occasional looks of horror) like a champ. He simply drawled, amused, "The body rituals of the Nacirema are as elaborate as they are bizarre."

She picked up a couple of the foundations she'd bought and held them up next to the eye that had been protected by the eyepatch tan line, trying to determine which one was a closer match for whatever his skin tone was when he wasn't burned. "Who're the Nacirema? One of the tribes that used to live around here?"

"They're still in the area. Look 'em up."

Pacifica thought the darker foundation was closer; she tested it on his inner arm to be sure. "So, how much makeup do you already know how to apply? Any?"

"I can do mascara, eyeliner, and mascara."

"Riiight. Okay, both of you pay attention to what I'm doing." She evicted Mabel from her desk chair and dragged it around in front of Goldie's folding chair. "Because I will not be coming over to do this tomorrow, so the two of you will have to repeat this yourself. Here." She handed Goldie a mirror so he could watch her work.

Mabel hopped up to sit on the desk next to Goldie. "You have one hundred percent of my attention!" She immediately looked away from Pacifica at the makeup brushes laid out on the desk, picked up a fan brush curiously, and started dragging it up and down her arm. "Ooh. Tickly."

"Emphasize my eyes," Goldie said. "They're my best feature. You can forget about everything else, but my eyes have to look good."

Pacifica looked at his eyes. Pacifica really looked at his eyes.

There was something wrong with his eyes.

She decided to stop looking at his eyes. "Okaaay, great great great, you've got suuuper long lashes, that's fantastic. We can totally draw attention there. You don't even need fake lashes. And you've got nice big prominent eyes. Kinda bulgy, but that should be easy to hide with eyeshadow. I'm thinking maybe a smokey eye?"

"What about metallics? Like gold?" Goldie asked innocently. "Kind of a retro 'secret agent villainess' look, don't you think! It'd bring out the yellow in my eyes!"

Pacifica said, "You do not want to bring out your jaundice."

"Don't tell me what I want."

"No gold eyeshadow," Pacifica said. "Period. If you want to experiment with color, we can try a smoky eye in burgundy. Burgundy is hot this year."

Goldie muttered something about welcoming a bottle of burgundy right now, then said, "Fine! Burgundy."

(As Pacifica looked through her makeup palettes for the burgundy, Bill leaned over to Mabel and whispered, "Do we have any leftover gold eyeshadow?" Mabel nodded and winked. Bill winked back.)

"What about the rest of your face?"

"Skip it."

"I'm not letting you go bare-faced aside from your eyes," Pacifica said. "But we can do a natural makeup look."

"That's so boring," Mabel said. She was dragging the fan brush over her lips now. "If it looks natural why's he wearing any makeup at all?"

Goldie said, "Because humans are insane about the most uninteresting things."

As Pacifica worked her way through the foundation, concealer—she decided his sunburned skin had enough of a sun-kissed glow that she could skip bronzer—and contouring, she said, "You are... really good at holding still when you try." He'd gone completely still, like a statue. A statue that was making direct eye contact with her soul. She felt a bead of sweat slide down her neck. She wasn't sure he was breathing.

"He's super good," Mabel agreed. "It's kinda creepy."

"Thanks!" And just like that, he was smiling and alive again. "I do a lot of meditating! Gimme a focal point to watch and I can go like two billion years!"

"You didn't learn from...?"

"Pageants? Ha! No way, I was the wiggliest little demon you've ever seen. It drove my mom nuts when she was trying to do my lashes. She used to say 'If you love me, hold still' to keep me in place—but you know how contrary kids are when they're mad! Eventually I got fed up and said, 'Well then, maybe I don't love you!' And she didn't speak to me for three days." Goldie laughed. "Ahh, I had the most dramatic mom."

"Wow, my mom would kill me if I ever tried something like that—especially if it was in public where people could see us," Pacifica said. "She hired makeup artists so I'd struggle against them instead of her. Your mom did your makeup? Did she ever hire anyone?"

"Nooo way. We ran our operation on a razor-thin budget to maximize the profits from my winnings. The name of the game was efficiency!"

"My mom's sure wasn't," Pacifica said. "(Shut your right eye, I've got to get your eyeshadow.) We went through like, fifty makeup artists or something. Sometimes more than one while prepping for the same pageant." She lowered her voice a tad, "A couple times when the makeup artist was a creep, I messed up my own makeup just so Mom would fire them."

"Ha! Suckers. Yeah, that's probably how it woulda gone if my mom had handed me off to a makeup artist. I was not afraid to sic her on adults! We didn't have any hired help when I was that age, but the principal was terrified of her. And if another kid at a competition was getting on my nerves, I'd go crying to her that they pushed me and oh, man, she'd come down on their parents like the asteroid on Chicxulub."

"Me too! There was this girl in third grade who was so... I don't know, just—" she pulled a face, "eugh, you know? I complained to mom about her and got her family blacklisted by the whole town. They had to move out of the state just to get a job."

Goldie laughed loudly. "Now that is impressive!"

Pacifica's gut shifted uncomfortably. Was it? "Other eye now." She didn't speak for a moment as she tried to get both eyes matching. "Actually... it was... kinda scary?"

She'd asked her mom if she could puh-lease get this girl out of Pacifica's class. She'd just expected the girl to be switched to another teacher.

Instead, over the next few weeks, she heard about the girl's mother losing her job, then her father. Her older brother got kicked out of the local Future Lumberjacks of America chapter. One day the girl came to school in tears after being cut from the softball team. A couple months later, the girl's friends—the two that hadn't drifted away from her as her family became pariahs—threw her a tearful goodbye party during lunch with a mall-bought cookie cake; and the next day, she was gone forever.

After that first time Pacifica had complained about her classmate, her mom had never once mentioned the girl or her family. She never asked if Pacifica had any more trouble with her. Not even when they left town. It was as though, after her mom ground them under her heel, they were beneath her notice. Just four crushed ants.

But Goldie was staring at her, frowning in confusion, like she didn't make any sense. "What—scary for the other kid?" he asked. "Sure. It's supposed to be, isn't it?"

Pacifica didn't reply for a second. I'm afraid of how good she was at doing exactly what I asked her to do without realizing I was asking for it—that sounded stupid. Finally, she said, "Don't wrinkle your face like that, I haven't set your foundation yet. It'll make it cake up."

"Your moms sound insane," Mabel said. While they'd been swapping stories about their childhoods, she'd been staring at them, chin in one hand, chewing on the fan brush's bristles. "Were you guys tortured growing up?"

"Pfff, what? No, of course not!" Pacifica said. "My parents would never. You've only seen my mom's worst side, she's not really that bad. I mean—not to me. She's horrible to poor people, but that's different."

Goldie said, "Yeah, my mom was my biggest defender! If anyone tried to hold me back, she'd rip them a new one."

"But—forcing you to do pageants until you have a breakdown?" Mabel said, glancing between Goldie and Pacifica, mouth twisting up like the words tasted sour. "Guilting you into wearing makeup and attacking other parents and stuff? That's nuts."

"It's not like that," Pacifica said automatically, then tried to figure out what it was like.

"Now we're calling a kid's temper tantrum a breakdown? You've got a future career in propaganda, star girl," Goldie said wryly. "It's a mom's job to bring out a kid's potential, right? Sure, it drove me nuts at the time—but kids don't want their potential brought out, kids are lazy!" He shrugged, "Yeah, my parents weren't perfect—they didn't really 'get' me, they held me back from reaching my full potential because they couldn't see what it was—but I'd never have gotten on the road to unlocking my potential myself if they hadn't put me on the right path as a kid."

Pacifica nodded. "Totally! That's just normal mom stuff! My parents are exactly the same—they don't get my alpaca business at all—but there's no way I'd be running a business at thirteen if my mom hadn't pushed me to be the best I can be. Or supporting my alpacas through modeling if I hadn't learned how to present myself in the pageant system. Even mini-golf was just a hobby until my parents got me a coach and started taking me to competitions."

"And I wouldn't be the huge success I am today without those early lessons in public speaking!"

Mabel shot Goldie a meaningful look. He pointed at her. "Don't say a word. I've had a bad year, you can't judge me by that. Anyone could've lost their parrots in a freak accident."

"And some kids had it way worse," Pacifica said. "Some parents would hit their kids or scream at them for messing up their routines or getting distracted? Those girls never lasted long, you can tell if a contestant's just going through the motions because she's scared. I was never treated like that. My pageant coach taught my parents to use a 'warning bell,' when they rang it that was my warning to stop goofing off and focus on practicing or listen to them or whatever. They'd pay me in chocolate if I got back in line."

"Ha!" Goldie smacked the desk, "Oh wow, that's hilarious! Pageant coach Pavlov. My parents would have loved that when I was in the toddler competitions."

"Right?!" Pacifica laughed. "Now I'm like, wow, I used to be bribable with a piece of chocolate? Kids are sooo easy to manipulate."

"But hey, it's a good life lesson: the occasional reward and the fear of punishment is a lot more effective at keeping people in line than actual punishments."

Pacifica nodded thoughtfully. "Wow. That's so insightful."

"See?" Goldie beamed at Mabel. "Pageants teach kids all kinds of useful things! Ambition, poise, charisma, self-confidence, social skills..."

She grimaced. "Yeah, but... all the restrictions and pressure and trauma and stuff? That really sounds bad."

"I think you're just bitter that you can't enter the birdsong contest."

She kicked his arm. "I'm serious!"

He pushed back her shoe and waved her off dismissively. "It only sounds bad to you because you were never in the pageant world! It's got its own rituals and expectations, of course it looks weird to outsiders."

"And everyone judges pageants so much more harshly than other competitive sports—which is what pageants basically are," Pacifica said. "Like, pageants and competitive mini-golf took just as much practice, just as much coaching, just as much time and money—but in real life, knowing how to make myself look presentable and talk to adults has helped me way more often than knowing how to knock a ball into a hole. Mini-golf only saved my life once."

"Charisma will get you everywhere," Goldie agreed. "It's the most effective form of mind-control you can do without psychically rewiring someone's neurons."

"Basically! But getting a medal at the Sportlympics has everyone talk about how skilled and hard-working and dedicated you are, and getting a tiara in a national pageant gets people who have never even watched a pageant calling you a bimbo. Like, what?"

"Blatant double standards!" To Mabel, Goldie said, "Both your parents work in Silicon Valley. Their priority is intelligence and grades instead of looks and charisma, so that's why you and your brother get pushed in school—but it's all the same! Parents push their kids to be successful whatever way they know how."

Mabel stared into space. "Huh." She fell silent, gnawing on the fan brush's handle—pondering whether her parents worrying about her so-so grades was comparable to the pageant moms desperate for their daughters' straight hair to be straighter and curly hair to be curlier.

Smugly, Goldie went on, "If anything, the pageant circuit was more useful than school. I—"

"(Stop moving around, I've got to do your other eye.)"

Goldie obediently leaned forward and shut his other eye. "I went from pageants straight into public speaking. I had an entire career before I was out of school. Everyone loved me! I was a natural in the spotlight!"

"Really?" Pacifica said dubiously. She could buy that he might have been a competitor as a kid, but honestly, he seemed pretty creepy to her. Enough confidence could carry you pretty far, but...

He rolled his open eye. "Don't take that tone with me. It was before you were born! And like I said—I've lost my looks. I used to be..."

He trailed off, staring down at his nail polished hands like he didn't recognize them.

He muttered, "I used to be so much better than this."

Mabel reached out and rubbed his upper arm comfortingly.

Sometimes Pacifica caught her mom staring in a mirror, studying her face with an expression somewhere between nervous and depressed, gently touching her fingertips to the thin lines beginning to appear around her eyes and mouth as though she were examining gruesome wounds. Her mother had always said that looks are everything; and even though she didn't talk about her feelings directly, from the way she sometimes snapped at Pacifica to keep up her skincare—moisturizer, sunscreen, hydration, don't frown too hard—Pacifica thought maybe she wasn't worried about Pacifica's face so much as her own.

Goldie only had the faintest traces of the start of wrinkles, unnoticeable if Pacifica hadn't just spent the past few minutes plastering foundation on his face. She wondered how old he was. She wondered whether he had the same fear her mother did: that his body was letting him down, slowly dying all around him.

You don't go through the child pageant world without learning two things: everyone wants you to look and act older than you are; and the older you get, the less anyone wants you.

"I've got to do your lips," Pacifica said, picking out a couple of options: a red so bright it was nearly orange (totally in this year), a nice glossy nude that ought to be a close match to Goldie's natural lip color. "Did you want to stick with the natural look, or...?"

He glanced up from his hands at the offered lipsticks. "What the heck," he sighed. "Let's make it red."

Pacifica nodded. "Pooch your lips out for me, like this." And that was the last they spoke for a while.

####

(Here's your regular TBOB report: no actual plot was changed due to TBOB. I added in a few lines referencing it: the imagery of Priscilla grinding normal people beneath her heel is meant to be reminiscent of Pacifica's giant nightmare on TINAWDC; the "meditating" for specifically two billion years is a direct reference to the barber pole, although I'd already headcanoned that Bill can meditate/dissociate for absolutely vast quantities of time; I already had dialogue where he goes on the importance of charisma and how much everyone adored him as a kid, but I tossed in another sentence or two about charisma just because of how strongly he emphasizes it in TBOB; and originally I had dialogue where Bill went on about what big supporters his parents were, even though he privately feels like they didn't get him—all I changed was deciding to make him admit to some of those feelings out loud, since it's something he says outright in TBOB. I've imagined that he tends to swing between "they were the best/they were the worst" based on how he's feeling at the time with no neutral ground in between—whiiich lines up pretty well with what TBOB gave us.

And unrelated but I spent way too long researching makeup & hair trends in the 70s and in 2013. I had no idea orange lipstick was hot for a while. My idea of doing makeup is painting my nails once every six years.

Hope y'all enjoyed, and I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts! I've been eager to dive into this aspect of Bill's backstory and Pacifica's POV for a while.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #pacifica northwest #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(god i hate the chapters from the POV of characters who don't know they're interacting with Bill)#(calling him the wrong name the whole chapter is torture. I kept having to correct his name. ... un-correct his name?)

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jhyoos · 11 days ago

Text

REBEL GIRL

rockstar sevika x influencer reader

Chapter 10: Family Reunion

summary : (y/n) takes sevika to her annual family reunion.

mentions : homophobia, lil angst, angry sevika, competitive sevika, drunk sevika, fame au, modern au, happy ending, time skip, fast paced beginning, sevika being a passenger princess, domestic sevika

notes: last chapter yall…😔 just a psa it’s been a total of 5 1/2 months (y/n) and Sevika have been together after the end

You were seated in first class, but the quiet wasn’t comforting—it felt strange, almost unsettling, after weeks of chaos. No Caitlyn lightly humming a tune while tapping out a melody on her keyboard. No Jinx banging out a rhythm on any surface she could find, nor Vi throwing mock punches into the air while Sevika teased her with bass riffs. It was just you now, left to your thoughts and the buzzing emptiness.

You leaned back, headphones over your ears, but even the music didn’t drown out the vivid memories. Watching them all on stage had been electric: Vi’s commanding voice tearing through the air as her fingers shredded the guitar strings, Jinx drumming like she was setting the world on fire, and Sevika—wild and untamed—plucking her bass with enough intensity to send the crowd into a frenzy. Caitlyn was the calm amidst the chaos, playing her keys and singing backing vocals with a steady, elegant precision that balanced the energy of the others.

You missed it all: the long road trips, the ridiculous banter, the post-show exhilaration, and of course, Sevika—completely in her element, sweating and grinning like a maniac as the fans screamed her name. You sighed, pulling out your phone and setting up your camera on the tray table in front of you. The angle wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

After connecting your microphone to ensure the audio was crisp, you pressed record.

“Hey, guys,” you began, offering a small, tired smile. “So... this is it. I’m officially done touring with Shattered Souls. I’m back to personal bigger things and most definitely the biggest high of my career. By the time I post this video, they’ll still be out there, tearing it up on stage. If you can, seriously, buy a ticket to the nearest city. Watching them live is something else. Trust me, it’s worth it.”

You paused, the faint hum of the airplane filling the silence as you gathered your thoughts.

“I just wanna say, before I close this video off, that I had the time of my life with them. They are genuine, talented, and absolutely insane—in the best way possible. They love their fans, they love their music, and they give it everything they’ve got every single night.

“Honestly, when Caitlyn first messaged me asking if I wanted to collab with her band, I thought it was a terrible idea.” You laughed, shaking your head at the memory. “But it turned out to be the best mistake of my life. Because of that, I met Sevika, and I love her so much. Like... a ridiculous amount.”

The smile on your face softened as the emotions bubbled up.

“I’ve also grown to connect with all of them like family. Vi’s chaotic energy, Jinx being, well, Jinx, Caitlyn’s calm genius... and Sevika—who’s somehow even crazier on stage than Vi and Jinx combined. These people have become such an important part of my life, and I know I’ll keep that connection with them.

“If you haven’t checked them out or their music yet, their Spotify link will, of course, be below along with their Instagrams. Go give them a listen. Seriously, do it.”

You took a deep breath, letting your smile linger a little longer.

“And, uh, yeah... this is your favorite YouTuber logging off. Until next time.”

You stopped the recording, turning off the microphone on your phone. The screen went blank, but your thoughts raced. You missed them already—missed the energy, the madness, the shared moments of triumph after a show. But this wasn’t the end, you reminded yourself. It was just the beginning of a new chapter.

Leaning back into your seat, you closed your eyes, the faint echoes of their last performance still buzzing in your ears. You couldn’t wait for the moment you’d reunite, and until then, you’d hold onto every memory like a lifeline.

“Yes, Sevika, I am on the way,” you grumbled into the phone as you slid into the driver’s seat and started your car. It had been a whole month since you’d last seen Sevika and the others. A long month. During that time, your last video blew up, garnering millions of views and likes. That kind of exposure turned every one of Shattered Souls’ remaining shows into sold-out events. Their managers even had to add repeat shows in certain states due to the overwhelming demand, raking in even more cash.

You adjusted your AirPods as Sevika’s voice came through, teasing you about having to get up so early. “Oh, like it’s my fault you booked the first flight out,” you shot back, exasperated but grinning nonetheless. She had insisted on an early flight to see you as soon as possible, leaving the others to return on their usual schedule.

You glanced down at yourself as you hit the road, slightly embarrassed by your appearance. A ramen-stained shirt, baggy sweatpants, and mismatched Crocs—whatever you’d found in the rush out the door. “I swear, I look like I just rolled out of bed,” you muttered, though Sevika didn’t seem to care.

As you drove, she kept the conversation light, her laughter filling the silence in between. “Did you have to book such an early flight, ba—OH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, WHO TOLD YOU TO GO?!” you yelled, slamming on the brakes as a car cut you off.

The sound of Sevika laughing uproariously came through your AirPods, and you could practically hear the smirk on her face. “You’re really not a morning person, are you?” she teased.

You grumbled under your breath, trying to focus on the road as you neared the airport. “Ugh… I’m parking now. Come out—I’m in a red Camaro,” you said, glancing for an empty spot.

“I think I know what your car looks like,” Sevika replied dryly. “You’ve sent me about a hundred photos of it since you bought it.”

“Well, excuse me for being proud of my baby,” you retorted, cutting the engine. You tapped your fingers on the steering wheel as you waited, watching the revolving doors of the terminal. The anticipation of seeing her again after so long was starting to make your heart race.

A few minutes later, you spotted her walking toward the car, looking impossibly good even after an early morning flight. “Finally,” you sighed as she opened the passenger door and slid in.

“Took you long enough,” Sevika teased, leaning over to plant a kiss on your temple.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, a soft smile creeping onto your face despite yourself. Seeing her again made the whole chaotic morning worth it.

The morning sunlight streamed through the blinds as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself. It was another busy day ahead, but the real challenge was getting Sevika out of bed. After another long night exploring new... territories in your sex life, she was completely passed out, her arm draped over her face as if shielding herself from any obligations.

Sevika had been bouncing between your house and hers for months now. Between her schedule and your own packed calendar, your time together felt fleeting. Since your influencer career had skyrocketed, luxury brands were constantly reaching out to have you model for their campaigns. You’d even graced a few runways, though so far, only in Los Angeles. Despite your hectic modeling gigs, you always found time to vlog, keeping your followers engaged and rooting for your success.

Once dressed, you glanced at Sevika sprawled on the bed. She was still deep in sleep, the faintest smile tugging at her lips as if she was dreaming about something—probably last night. Rolling your eyes, you walked over and leaned down, brushing your lips against hers until she stirred.

“Mmm,” she groaned, cracking one eye open to see you. A sleepy smile tugged at her face before she pulled you down for another kiss.

“Wake up,” you said against her lips, pulling back just enough to speak. “We’ve gotta be in New York by noon.”

She groaned again, flopping back dramatically as you straightened up and grabbed the suitcases you both had packed the night before. Dragging them to the bedroom door, you glanced over your shoulder. “Come on, Sev. I’m not breaking a nail carrying these downstairs.”

That seemed to do the trick. With a grumble and a stretch, Sevika swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. “You’re lucky I love you,” she muttered as she tugged on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, her hair still a little messy but effortlessly cool.

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, watching as she hefted the suitcases with ease and carried them to the car. You followed her downstairs, doing a final mental checklist to make sure nothing was forgotten. Tomorrow was Easter, which meant a big family reunion, and you needed to be in New York by the afternoon to help with food prep, decorations, and setting up games for the kids.

Once the suitcases were securely packed in the trunk, you walked around the car to the driver’s side. “We have everything, right?” you asked, pausing before opening the door.

“Everything,” Sevika confirmed, already buckled in and leaning back in her seat.

You nodded, climbing in and starting the car. The drive to the airport wasn’t long, but the anticipation of seeing your family—and the chaos that always came with reunions—had you both a little on edge.

The private jet you’d rented was waiting for you on the tarmac, sleek and ready to whisk you both away to New York. It was a luxury you didn’t take for granted, and as you settled into the plush seats, you glanced over at Sevika. She was already dozing off again, her head resting against the window.

“Lazy,” you muttered under your breath, smiling softly. With everything you had going on, moments like these—just the two of you—were what you treasured the most.

The crisp New York air greeted you as you stepped out of the car with Sevika, luggage in tow. Your parents’ house came into view, its familiar warmth already making you smile. The front door opened before you even had a chance to knock, and your parents stood there beaming.

“Oh, welcome, Sevika!” your mother exclaimed, stepping forward to hug her tightly. Your mother wasn’t the handshake type, and neither was your father, who followed with an equally warm hug. Sevika, though a little caught off guard by their enthusiasm, accepted their hugs with a shy smile, murmuring her thanks.

“Come on in,” your dad said, motioning toward the door. “I cleaned (Y/N)’s room for you two… Well, I dusted. She’s always been good about keeping her room clean,” he added with a chuckle.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, shooting him a playful grin. You turned to Sevika and gestured toward the stairs. “Sevika, you can go ahead and take the luggage up to my room. I’m sure I already need to help with the food.”

“Sure,” Sevika said, hefting the bags effortlessly. She paused for a moment. “You sure I can’t help out either?”

“You’ll have plenty to do, trust me,” you teased, patting her arm before heading toward the kitchen with your mom.

As the evening progressed, Sevika became an unofficial extra set of hands for your family. Anytime someone needed a jar opened, a can pried, or something retrieved from the highest shelf, Sevika was called upon.

“Sevika, can you open this?” your mom asked, holding out a stubborn jar of pickles.

“Sevika, can you grab that pan up there? No, no, the one way in the back,” your dad chimed in, pointing toward the top shelf.

Sevika handled each request with ease, and despite her usually intimidating demeanor, she blended in with your family as if she’d been there all along.

By the time everything was prepped and ready for the reunion, you found Sevika sitting at the kitchen counter, a slightly amused look on her face. “I told you you’d have plenty to do,” you said with a grin, handing her a glass of water.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied, smirking. “I didn’t think I’d be the designated muscle for the night, though.”

Your parents laughed from across the room. “You’re a lifesaver, Sevika,” your mom said. “We might have to borrow you for every holiday!”

“Don’t get used to it,” Sevika joked, but there was a softness in her tone, like she didn’t really mind.

You smiled, watching her interact so naturally with your family. It made you feel even more certain that she belonged here, with you, no matter how chaotic things got.

The clock had just struck midnight, and the kitchen was still bustling with activity. The counters were covered with bowls, spatulas, and a fine dusting of flour from the cakes you and your mom had been making earlier. The sweet aroma of vanilla and chocolate wafted through the air as the cakes baked in the oven, their golden tops rising slowly.

You let out a long yawn, leaning against the counter as your eyelids grew heavier. “I think I’m gonna take a nap for a few hours,” you said, your voice tinged with exhaustion.

Your dad, sitting on the couch in the living room, was deeply engrossed in an episode of Criminal Minds. Sevika was right beside him, equally locked in, her arms crossed as she stared at the screen with intense focus. Neither of them even glanced away as they replied in perfect unison, “Okay.”

Your mom, still wiping down the counters, looked over at you with a soft smile. “Of course, hun. Get plenty of sleep. I’ll finish up here.”

You gave her a small nod, your movements slow and heavy as the sleepiness really started to set in. “Good night,” you said, your voice gentle as you turned toward the living room.

“Good night,” your dad mumbled distractedly, his eyes glued to the TV.

“Night,” Sevika added, sparing you a quick glance and a small smirk before her attention returned to the unfolding crime scene on the screen.

With that, you headed upstairs, the sound of the TV faintly trailing behind you. As you climbed into your old bed, you smiled faintly at the thought of Sevika and your dad bonding over their shared love of Criminal Minds. It wasn’t long before the warmth of your blanket and the faint hum of the oven downstairs lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

When you woke up, the faint sounds of movement from the kitchen drew you out of bed. After showering and getting dressed, you headed downstairs, expecting to find your mom working on the last-minute preparations. Instead, you were met with a sight that stopped you in your tracks.

Sevika was already a thousand steps ahead of you. She stood at the counter wearing a pink apron with the word “Mommy” embroidered on it, her broad frame completely at odds with the delicate garment. Your mom was by her side, showing her how to frost the cakes that had been cooling overnight.

You leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene. Sevika’s muscles flexed every time she squeezed the piping bag, her large hands surprisingly gentle as she guided the frosting in smooth, even swirls across the cake’s surface. Her face was the perfect picture of concentration, her tongue sticking out just slightly as she focused on getting the perfect amount of frosting out. It was almost unfair how good she looked—domestic and strong all at once.

You couldn’t help yourself. You took out your phone and snapped a quick picture without her noticing. It was too cute not to capture. Her brows furrowed, her tongue still poking out as she worked, completely unaware of you standing there. The sight of her in that ridiculous pink apron, paired with her muscular build, was the perfect contradiction—and you were adding this to your “Sevi-bear” photo album immediately.

You grinned to yourself as you looked at the photo, already imagining teasing her about it later. But for now, you stayed quiet, content to watch her try something so completely out of her element—and excel at it, as she always did.

The family car was packed carefully, each dish delicately arranged in the trunk to avoid any spills. You and Sevika sat in the backseat with the cakes balanced on your laps, your mom driving while your dad gave directions. Sevika kept her hand steady on one of the cakes to ensure it wouldn’t slide, her other hand casually resting on your knee.

When you arrived at the reunion venue, the energy was palpable. Family members swarmed to greet you, all warm smiles and hugs. For a brief moment, some assumed Sevika was just a friend accompanying you. That assumption didn’t last long as the day unfolded.

Your little cousins were particularly fascinated by Sevika’s metal arm. A cluster of them crowded around her, asking endless questions and eagerly poking at the cool surface. She was patient with them, answering their curious questions and even flexing the arm for their amusement. “Does it hurt?” one of them asked, wide-eyed. “Not anymore,” Sevika replied, ruffling the kid’s hair with her free hand.

As more family members chatted with you, the usual questions about your career came up. You fielded inquiries about your success as an influencer, politely sidestepping the occasional fake family member who tried to slip in a request for money or a shoutout. Sevika noticed, giving you a small smirk when one particularly pushy cousin asked for free promo. You handled it gracefully, your hand squeezing Sevika’s reassuringly.

After lunch, it became clear to most of the family that Sevika wasn’t just your friend. It started with her casually wiping frosting off your cheek, the gesture intimate and tender. Some family members caught on quickly and congratulated you on finding someone who seemed to genuinely adore you. Others weren’t as supportive—chiefly your grandpa.

You hadn’t prepared Sevika for your grandfather’s homophobic tendencies, so when he began loudly hurling slurs, it caught her completely off guard. The room fell silent as Sevika’s face darkened with anger. You quickly grabbed her arm and led her outside before she could say or do something she might regret.

“I’m sorry, Sevi,” you said once you were outside, your voice trembling. “I should’ve told you about him. I didn’t think—”

“It’s not your fault,” Sevika interrupted, her jaw tight but her voice steady. “I’ll take his words as a challenge. He’ll come around.”

Her words hung in the air, and before you could fully grasp what she meant, the evening’s adult games kicked off—and Sevika turned them into a battleground. She and your grandpa faced off in every event: drinking musical chairs, beer pong, and even an impromptu dance battle when both were too drunk to care about anything else. You stood on the sidelines, utterly baffled as your girlfriend and grandfather line-danced together like lifelong friends, the rest of the family cheering them on.

By the end of the night, your grandpa was slumped in a chair next to Sevika, both of them too drunk to stand but deep in conversation about fishing, hunting, and other pastimes you never knew Sevika had indulged in before her rockstar days. You listened quietly as they spoke, the unexpected camaraderie between them leaving you stunned.

At one point, their conversation shifted, and both pairs of eyes landed on you.

“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?” Sevika said, her voice filled with affection.

“She got the looks from her grandmother,” your grandpa replied, his words slurred but sincere. “May she rest in peace.”

“I’m gonna marry her,” Sevika announced casually, taking a sip from her beer.

Your heart stopped. “Marry my wife?” your grandfather slurred, looking utterly confused.

“No, you dumbass,” Sevika shot back with a drunken grin. “Marry your granddaughter. I’ve already got her parents’ approval, and I’ve got the ring. I just need yours, old man.”

Your eyes widened as the words sank in. Sevika was planning to propose to you? And you were finding out like this?

Your grandfather scratched his chin, pretending to mull it over. Finally, he shrugged. “Sure… why not.”

Sevika grinned triumphantly, raising her beer in a mock toast. “Good. Now you can’t take it back.”

You stood there in shock, your heart racing, as Sevika shot you a sly look. “Surprise,” she muttered, clearly enjoying your reaction.

Sevika knelt before you, the vibrant sounds of All of Me played softly in the background, the violinist swaying to each note with practiced grace. Snow glistened around the edges of the path, blending with the blooming flowers of early spring in Central Park. The people you loved most—your parents, your grandpa, your cousins, and even Sevika’s closest friends from the band, Vi, Jinx, and Caitlyn—stood nearby, beaming with anticipation.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your hand flew to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes. Sevika, the tough, confident rockstar you’d fallen in love with, now looked at you with such softness it was almost overwhelming. Her fingers, calloused from years of playing guitar, trembled slightly as she held the velvet box in her hands.

“Before you say anything,” she began, her voice steady but laced with emotion, “let me talk.” She took a deep breath, her stormy gray eyes locking onto yours, and you saw the vulnerability she rarely let anyone else see.

“I know we’ve only been together for a few months,” she started, a small, self-deprecating chuckle escaping her lips. “But in those months, you’ve turned my life upside down in the best way. Touring was always the dream for me—traveling from state to state, performing for thousands of people, living that wild rockstar life. But I didn’t realize how empty it all felt until I met you.”

Your tears began to spill over as she continued, her voice growing softer.

“Every stop on tour, you made it feel like home. Whether it was late-night takeout in crappy motels or those quiet moments backstage before a show, you reminded me that life isn’t just about the music or the fame—it’s about who you share it with.”

“This place,” Sevika said, glancing around at the snowy park and the familiar gates overlooking the water, “I knew it was special to you. Your mom told me this is where your dad proposed to her. And I wanted this moment to be just as meaningful for us.”

She took a steadying breath, her voice firm as she said, “I know what I want. And what I want is you—your laughter, your humor, the way you stayed up late at night with me on FaceTime, and the way you saw past my stubbornness and taught me how to love. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. So… will you marry me?”

The world seemed to stand still as you nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The crowd erupted into cheers as Sevika slipped the ring onto your finger, her hands surprisingly gentle despite their strength. She stood, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a kiss that made your heart race.

“You’re mine now,” she murmured softly against your lips, her smirk returning as the confidence you loved so much settled back into place.

“Always,” you replied, smiling as your arms wrapped tightly around her neck.

As your family and friends crowded around to congratulate you, the violinist transitioned into a celebratory tune, and Sevika looked at you like you were her entire world. And in that moment, with the love of your life holding you close, you knew that this was only the beginning of your next adventure together.

— ran out of divider space :(

SURPRISE SHAWTY EXTRAS !

Three years had passed since you and Sevika tied the knot, and not a day went by where the memories of that perfect wedding didn’t make you smile. Everything about it had been uniquely you and Sevika—the all-black theme, the gothic elegance, and the sheer joy radiating from your friends and family as they celebrated your love. Famous faces mingled with relatives, everyone dressed to impress, and the night was filled with laughter, Jayce’s weird ass speech, dancing, and, of course, music. Sevika even performed a surprise set, which had everyone raving for weeks afterward.

After the honeymoon, you and Sevika bought into two homes in LA and New York, though the sunny LA house became you guys primary sanctuary. You continued thriving in your career as a model and influencer, while Sevika poured her heart and soul into Shattered Souls, the band only growing bigger with each passing year. Every album release brought in millions, and their relentless touring schedule kept Sevika busy, but it was clear she always prioritized you.

Life had been eventful not just for you but for your inner circle too. Not long after your wedding, Vi and Caitlyn also said their vows, sealing their love in a ceremony that was just as vibrant and wild as their personalities. Things took an unexpected yet joyous turn when Caitlyn announced she was pregnant. She and Vi had chosen a donor together, and though Cait took a temporary break from the band to focus on the pregnancy, she urged Vi to stay with Shattered Souls until the baby arrived.

When Caitlyn’s pregnancy began progressing, you decided to take a break from your own work to help out. Between the late-night cravings and Cait’s stubborn insistence on decorating the nursery herself, there was plenty to keep you occupied. Sevika often teased you about being "Mommy’s helper," but her eyes always sparkled with pride when she saw how much you loved caring for Cait.

Around this time, you started having more serious conversations with Sevika about starting a family of your own. It wasn’t exactly a new topic—Sevika had been talking about wanting kids ever since the engagement, casually dreaming about what your future family might look like. But now, it felt real. Sevika was patient and understanding, knowing you wanted everything to be just right.

For months, you searched for the perfect donor, determined to find someone who bore a strong resemblance to Sevika. It wasn’t just about looks; it was about creating a child that truly felt like a piece of both of you. You pored over profiles, cross-checked every detail, and refused to settle for anything less than perfection.

Sevika, as always, supported your every decision. Whenever she caught you deep in thought, scrolling through potential donors, she’d come up behind you, rest her chin on your shoulder, and say, “We’ll find them. Our kid’s gonna be amazing, just like you.” Her unwavering confidence made you believe it too.

The two of you spent countless nights dreaming about the future. Sevika talked about teaching your kid to play guitar, how they’d grow up surrounded by music and love. She joked about how they’d have to deal with two moms who would fiercely embarrass them at every school recital or sports game. You laughed, imagining the chaos, but deep down, the idea of starting a family with Sevika made your heart ache in the best way.

After weeks of searching, you finally found him—the perfect donor. He had Sevika’s striking features: her sharp nose, deep skin tone, tall and athletic build, and a clean bill of health that only made the decision easier. Everything about him mirrored Sevika in the best way, and without hesitation, you jumped at the opportunity. The next step was IVF, a process you were both equally nervous and excited about. Now came the hardest part—waiting.

To pass the time, you threw yourself into helping Caitlyn with her nursery. From painting the walls in a soft pastel blue to assembling cribs and organizing baby clothes, you and Cait poured all your energy into making the space perfect. Caitlyn often joked that you were acting more like a second mom than a helper, but you didn’t mind—it kept your hands busy and your mind occupied. By the time the few weeks of waiting were up, the nursery was complete, right down to the tiniest detail.

Then the day came. You sat on the toilet in your bathroom, staring at the Clearblue pregnancy test in your hand, willing yourself to stay calm. Sevika stood a few feet away, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. She was usually the picture of composure, but the anticipation had her just as wound up as you were. “How long does this thing take?” she muttered, running a hand through her short hair for the third time.

“It’ll beep when it’s ready,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seconds felt like hours, but then—beep.

Your heart raced as you looked down at the little screen. There it was, clear as day: Pregnant.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, the realization washing over you like a wave. Then, louder, “OH MY GOD, I’M PREGNANT!”

You jumped to your feet, holding the test up for Sevika to see. Her eyes widened as she stepped closer, taking it from your hands to double-check. When the word registered, a wide grin broke across her face.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “We’re gonna have a baby…”

The two of you hugged tightly, your emotions spilling over in laughter and tears. Sevika’s strong arms held you close as she kissed your temple. “We’re gonna be awesome parents,” you said, your voice shaking with happiness.

“Damn right we are,” Sevika replied, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “You’re gonna be an amazing mom. And I’ll—well, I’ll try not to mess the kid up too much.”

You laughed, wiping at your tears. “You? Mess them up? Sev, you’re going to be their hero.”

She smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re already mine.”

That moment felt like the start of something magical, the first step into a whole new chapter of your lives. Together, you were ready to take it on, one step at a time.

taglist : @moodient @whatlefoop @nonexistentsourcherry @swordfemm4 @m00npjm @sevikasleftarm @fayecreates @artfairyyyyy @mulan-but-gay @inlovewithsevikaandambessa @sapphiellar @fudosl @nanajustnana-a

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