#k writes

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

Texts with bakugou part 26

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likes comments and reblogs appreciated!!

-k

@babycheech

[writingonleaves]

wrap your arms around me, baby boy - will smith

pairing: will smith x original female character

warnings: swearing, probably the most dialogue in a piece i've ever had, mention of marijuana , boston college (as a boston university alum this is a valid warning❤️), niche massachusetts references, fluff fluff fluff

inspired by + title: paper rings by taylor swift

word count: 5.5k

author's note: hi!! tried not to overthink this one too much because i've been in a writing rut lately and this turned out longer than i expected. i also usually try not to write about the kids or anyone younger than me but i feel like this song fit our fave lexington shark boy and i had fun exploring a college relationship like this. this is for @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy's eras tour fic challenge!! i hope you all enjoy it and lmk what you think!

october 2023

“I think I’m gonna marry you one day.” 

Danielle Layden doesn’t even look up from her notes, unimpressed. “Sure, dude.”

“I’m serious,” She sighs, before putting her pen down and looking up at Will Smith, who’s continuing like he’s just asking her about the homework, which he did about three minutes prior. “You don’t think so?

She blinks, making sure that the professor isn’t in the lecture hall yet. “Will, I met you, like, three weeks ago, while you and your friends were high off your asses, mind you, and you don’t know how to write a proposal.”

“You have something against marijuana and bad writers?”

She rolls her eyes as he laughs. “We have a quiz in 5 minutes. Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Well, seat partner, I don’t think I do,” he says smugly. 

“We are not seat partners,” she drawls out, taking a sip from the coffee that he brought her when he came in, toothy smile making her unable to be 100% annoyed with him. She doesn’t wanna overthink about the fact that it’s her exact order too, because he shouldn’t know that.

“I think we are,” he sings. “Are you coming to the game later?”

“What game?”

Will snorts. “Yeah, nice try. I know you stalked me on the internet after we met. I also talk about hockey all the time.”

“I don’t know what hockey is. Explain it to me again?”

“Smartass,” he mutters as a smile seeps through Danielle’s lips. “So are you coming?”

“Should I?”

“I think so.”

The professor claps his hands and he’s still looking at her, waiting for an answer. She just shrugs. She’ll leave him on his toes. 

The next week, as Danielle’s been learning to expect now, Will slips in the seat right next to her, sliding over her coffee. 

“How do you know my order?”

At the same time, he asks. “What did you think of the game?”

She blinks. “What if I didn’t go?”

“Dani,” he deadpans. “I know you went. I saw you in the crowd.”

“You saw me in the sold out crowd?” She eyes him warily. “I highly doubt it.”

“Evie told me where you guys were sitting beforehand.”

“Evie doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“What did you think of the game?” He repeats with insistence. 

She bites her lip. “You got a goal.”

“I did.”

“It was fun.”

He lights up like a puppy and she can’t help but melt. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nudges his shoulder. “You’re pretty good at this hockey thing. Better than you are at writing proposals.”

He chuckles, running a nervous hand through his hair. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“I’m glad you didn’t lose.”

“Doesn’t happen very often.”

“Cocky,” Danielle observes. 

“Just like you are about writing proposals.”

She switches the subject. “How do you know what my coffee order is?”

“You told me.”

She tilts her head to the side. “When?”

“The night we met.”

“When you were high off your ass?”

“Quiet down,” he scolds playfully. “I am an athlete, you know? Gotta keep up that pristine image.”

She lets out a bark of laughter. “Pristine image? Okay, dude.” 

“Hey, actually, before Langley comes in, I wanted to ask you something.” 

That gets her attention, as she turns fully towards him. “What’s up?” 

“Okay, so, you can say no,” Will starts, which, hilarious way to begin. She tries to hide her amused smile as he continues. “Would you mind looking over my midterm paper? I know you have all your own stuff to do so I totally get it. It’s just, it’s obvious you’re the best writer in this class and I’d really appreciate a second set of eyes like yours.”

A few seconds of silence pass by before Danielle smiles genuinely. “You don’t have to beg, Will. I’ll look over your paper. You only talk to me though. You don’t know that I’m the best writer in this class.”

“I think I do.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she deadpans.

He smirks, sliding his phone over. “Put in your number and we’ll find a time?”

She types her number in and texts herself, “I think you just wanna find an excuse to spend more time with me.”

“Busted. I did say I’m gonna marry you one day.”

“Let’s see what you get on your midterm first.”

november 2023

“Hey”

Danielle looks up from her books at the familiar voice, a bit disjointed because she’s not sitting in Fulton Hall but instead at the library. She takes her headphones out and tilts her head to the side at Will and two other guys right next to him. “Hi.”

“Do you mind?”

She starts clearing her stuff from the table, “As long as you’re not annoying.” She puts on a warm smile. “Hi. I’m Danielle. Or Dani. Whatever works.”

“I’m Ryan, and this is Gabe.” Ryan grins. 

She narrows her eyes a bit, gaze lingering on Gabe. “You look familiar. Have we been in a class together?”

“Maybe? What are you taking?”

“You’re in my Psych class,” she concludes. 

“With Petrovich?”

“The very one.”

Gabe lights up. It’s kinda adorable. “Where do you sit?”

“Don’t,” she says as Will chuckles, which causes one side of her lips to quirk up. “I’m not having a repeat with what’s happening with Will here.”

“Hey now,” Will says as his two friends laugh at him. “Leno’s the one from Amherst, by the way.”

Danielle lights up. “Oh! Will’s talked about you. I’m from Ludlow.”

“Really?” She nods as Ryan leans back in his seat. “I went to Pope Francis.”

“Of course you did,” she deadpans. “That’s almost as bad as St. Sebastian’s.”

Before she can think about if it’s too mean, Ryan has burst out into laughter. “You know what? Smitty should marry you. You’re funny.”

She whips her head towards Will, who looks smug. “Are you telling everyone that?”

“No,” he drawls out. 

“Yes,” Gabe says with a giggle. “I mean, you are the reason Will did well on his paper.”

“I know,” she says wryly. 

“So why wouldn’t he marry you?”

She ignores them and tilts her head to the side at Will. “You know, I didn’t think you’d lure your side pieces into this nonsense.”

“They’ve been here from the start!”

“Side pieces?”

She blinks, before, “Oh! You guys were also high the night we met. You were the friends. It was kinda dark so I didn’t really see your faces.”

“If Coach ever hears you, we’re banned from the team,” Will says. 

“I don’t really have plans to get to know your coach, so you’re in luck.”

“Do you like hockey?” Gabe asks. 

Danielle clicks her pen. “What’s hockey?”

“Don’t,” Will warns as she giggles. “She always does this.”

“What?” Ryan smirks. “Bust your ass?”

“I mean, good,” Gabe adds. “You need it, Smitty.”

She nudges Ryan in the shoulder and blows Gabe an air kiss. “I like you two. Dunno why you hang out with Will though, so that’s a character flaw.”

“Can you help me with Psych homework?” Gabe asks with a hopeful tilt. 

“Of course.”

Will narrows his eyes playfully. “Get your own seat partner, Gabo.”

“As fun as this has been, unless you all are doing homework and can quiet down-”

“Can we join?” Will asks, playful facade fading into a genuine one. “We can leave, but we also did come to do homework.”

She puts an earbud back in. “Be my guest.”

By the end of her time in the library, she’s gotten a cookie from Ryan (“413 have to stick together, baby”), Gabe’s phone number so they can study for Psychology together and smiles from Will that has her stomach feeling unsettled. As she’s walking back to her dorm, she gets a text from her roommate Tracy. There’s a hockey game this weekend. Does Danielle wanna come? 

She gives Tracy’s text a thumbs up.

december 2023

“Happy last class,” Will says, sitting down next to her. 

She reaches out automatically for the coffee he slides over with a smile. “I have something for you.”

“For me?” He teases, but he’s visibly taken aback.

“Yeah,” she reaches into her bag to feel around for the crochet eagle. Once she finds it, she pulls it out carefully and places it in his hands. 

His eyes soften. “You made this?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. I love crocheting and, I don’t know, it seemed fitting.”

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, clipping it onto one of the zippers on his backpack. She swallows, a frog suddenly appearing in her throat. “I’ll carry it with me everywhere.”

“When do you leave for Sweden?”

“Leaving BC the 13th, so gotta take all my finals early.”

She hums. “That’s soon.”

“It is,” he drums his fingers on the table. “It feels like this semester has flown by.”

“Yeah,” she says somewhat wistfully. A curl falls onto Will’s forehead and she has to dig her nails into her hands to prevent her from reaching up and fixing it. 

He shakes his head a bit at himself, as if trying to motivate himself to do something. “Listen, I, uh, you can totally say no, because I know I kinda forced you to be my friend in the first place. And I’ve been wanting to ask you this for weeks now, maybe months, but I was thinking maybe when I come back next semester we could hang out?”

She teases him. “Hang out? Should we invite Gabe and Ryan along? Maybe Jacob? I met him the other day, you know. He threw you under the bus.”

“No,” he presses and Danielle hides her giggle at his minor petulance. “Just us two. On a date. Dinner and all. The whole nine yards.”

Danielle is full out grinning now. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“You’re impossible,” Will deadpans. 

“Yes,” she says, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Yeah?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“I pay. I owe you for all the coffees this semester.”

He snorts. “Yeah, that’s not happening.” 

“You said anything.” 

“Dani.”

“Fine,” she pushes a finger into his chest. “You’re also deciding where we go though. I’m too indecisive for that.”

“Of course,” he grins, a slight blush painting his cheeks. “I’ll text you when I’m back on campus?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

january 2024

“It seems weird not seeing you Friday mornings anymore.”

Danielle chuckles as she opens the door to let Will inside. He steps to the side as she slips on her boots. “Not Mondays and Wednesdays?”

“Well, yes. But there was something nice about seeing you to end my week.”

She rolls her eyes. “Laying it down thick right at the start, huh?”

“Well, I would’ve brought flowers to really drive it home, but I remember you mentioning you didn’t like them.”

“You have a scarily good memory,” she remarks, grabbing her bag before they walk out of her dorm, Will’s hand hovering over her lower back. “Where are we going?”

“This restaurant called Seasons 52. It’s a 30 minute walk but we could also drive since I have my car. But it’s also nice out and I know you like walking everywhere-”

She halts in the hallway, causing Will to crash into her. “Will, that’s…a nice restaurant.”

“Is that okay? Too much?” His eyes widen in uncertainty. “I’ve been there with family for special events and stuff and it’s pretty good and I figured that-”

“It’s okay,” she assures him. “It is. I just, you didn’t have to do all that.”

Will shrugs as they wait for the elevator. “It’s not a big deal. You deserve all the stops. Wouldn’t wanna put that outfit to waste either.”

She snorts looking down at the nice brown sweater and jeans she put on. “This is nothing. You look very sharp. Different from the sweats you usually wear.”

“Hey!” He protests as she laughs. “Remember when you saw me in a suit before the game?”

“Yeah. I think I have those pictures on my phone still.”

He rolls his eyes at the memory of him seeing Danielle right before a game as she just snapped pictures of him with a smirk. “You know, the boys gave me crap about that for days.”

“Mission accomplished then.” She nudges his hip with hers right as the elevator doors open. “I know I texted you this already, but congrats on the Gold. My mom was confused why hockey was on the TV and it wasn’t the Bruins. My brother was pumped though. He’s been trying to convince me to get into hockey for years.”

He blinks. “You watched?”

“I tried to. Saw the gold medal match in full though. Landon loved Ryan’s celebration. What a bitch.”

“Landon’s your brother?”

“Yes he is.”

“Hockey fan?”

“Yeah. He went to BU.”

“Lame,” Will says without thinking. 

She laughs. “I tell him that all the time.”

“Just the one brother?”

“Nah. Two younger sisters too. He’s the oldest. He loves it.”

“Your sisters must love you.”

Danielle takes her hair out of her jacket as they start walking. “Why do you think so?”

“I have an older sister. Grace. She’s awesome. Also at BC actually. So I know what it’s like to have an older sister to look up to.”

“I do love them,” she admits. “I think I’m the lucky one to have them though.”

For January, it is surprisingly warm as they make their way to the restaurant. Will has a grin plastered on his face the whole time as he just lets Danielle playfully rag on him. At some point, she grabs his hand and their hands stay connected and Will feels like he just scored a hattrick. Dinner is yummy and romantic and so fun because everything about Danielle Layden is fun. Will snags the check, ignoring her look in the process. 

As they’re walking back to campus, Danielle has tucked herself into Will’s side. She pokes him playfully. “Do you still think we’re getting married?”

Will cackles. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

“No,” she says softly, biting her lip. 

He looks at her momentarily, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. “Good.”

Right in front of her dorm building, she kisses him. He smiles into her lips as he pulls her closer.

february 2024

Danielle has a big paper due next week. She doesn’t have time for this. 

She checks her phone again to skip the song and rolls her eyes at the dozens of messages from Will the whole morning. Thank God she’s been on Do Not Disturb. 

She may not know the ins and outs of hockey like her new boyfriend, but she knows what it’s like to lose. So she knows that he was really upset when BC lost in the first Beanpot game against BU. Hell, she was there in the stands. She knows the guys on the ice were one hundred times more upset than the fans in the stands representing the eagle. 

But ghosting her and then ditching her on a pre-planned date they had the next day is uncalled for. Judging from the sheer amount of texts and missed phone calls the last 24 hours, she knows Will knows he fucked up. But she’s not doing this. She’s not taking this crap from anyone, much less a boy. 

Two hours later, once she’s knocked out a good chunk of her paper, she leaves the library in search of some dinner outside of the dining hall to treat herself. It’s just her luck that as she’s walking past Conte with her headphones in, she sees some of the team in the distance walking towards her. Will is one of them. 

She sees the moment he recognizes her and then stubbornly puts her head down. She hears him call her name, but she just brushes roughly past him, shoulders knocking together. If he wants to explain herself, he’s gonna have to do more than that. 

When she’s just changed into her pajamas later that night, her phone rings. It’s Will again. She decides to answer.”

“What do you want?”

“Come outside.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t-”

“Please?” 

She hears the plea in her voice. “Fine.” She hangs up, grabs her keys and jacket, and runs down the stairs. 

As soon as she walks outside, she sees Will standing to the side, hands shoved in his pockets. “Hi,” he says.

“You ready to talk now?”

He flinches. “I deserved that.”

She crossed her arms, “Well?”

“I’m really, really sorry for ghosting you the last few days,” he rushes out quickly but tone dripped in sincerity and vulnerability. “I-it was really shitty of me to just avoid you and not respond to you at all, especially when I know you were just worried about me. I owed you more than that. I owe you more than that. I shouldn’t have let my emotions get to me like that. I’m sorry.”

She sighs. “Will, I get that losing a game like that sucks. I’m not really mad that you’re mad about it. I’m pissed that you didn’t talk to me, even if it was to tell me to leave you alone.”

“I’m really-”

She puts her hand up. “I’m not done yet.” He shuts his mouth and nods at her to continue. “I know I’m still trying to understand your world and how I fit into that, but getting ignored like I was the last few days sucked. We just started dating. It felt like a slap in the face. I don’t care if you don’t wanna talk to me, just tell me you don’t wanna talk to me instead of leaving me in the dark. If that happens again-”

“It won’t,” he says firmly. “It won’t. And it’s not my world that you have to fit into or whatever. It’s not about me. It’s never about me. It’ll never be about me. I fucked up, Dani. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”

She looks at him for a moment, before jabbing a finger into his chest. “Apology accepted. Just talk to me next time, okay?”

“I will, I promise,” he says, letting out a sigh of relief. “God, I’m such an idiot. It’s not like you’d ever judge me.”

“For what? The loss?”

“..Yeah?”

She rolls her eyes, taking her hands in his. “I judge you. I do it all the time, actually. Never, ever for that, though.” She squeezes his hands. “It just wasn’t you guys’ night. You’re a good hockey player, Will, but that’s not why I’m with you”

He chuckles wryly, leaning his forehead against hers. “I need to buy you a ring.”

“Easy, tiger,” she warns with a grin. “If you want me to completely forgive you, you owe me coffee for the next three months.”

“That easy?”

“No,” she admits. “But it’s a start.”

He places a quick kiss on her lips. “Anything. Anything you want.”

april 2024

The second the clock runs out, Danielle puts her head in her hands. There are murmurs of disappointment and cursing heard from attendants of the Frozen Four watch party her friend hosted, but all Danielle can do is bite her lip in sadness for Will and the other guys. She ses Ryan visibly sobbing and that’s her limit, as she walks into the kitchen to grab a glass of water to take a breather. She fingers through her phone to the text chain with Will, sending a red heart and “always proud of you” before putting her phone back in her pocket. 

She squeezes her eyes shut. God, they were so close. They worked so hard. Will’s worked so hard. But that’s just how it goes sometimes. 

As she’s helping clean up, she can’t help but think of the implications of the loss. She hasn’t been shy with Will after learning more about how big of a deal he is in the hockey world and how there’s a chance he may not come back next year. Initially it terrified her — getting into a relationship with someone who might not even be on the East Coast in a few months — and it still does somewhat, but he’s been so open and honest about it and Danielle has never been the kind of girl to not do something because she’s afraid. 

But that night, in her dorm, as she sees Will send a text back with just a heart, she’s afraid. They’ve only been dating for four months. And he’s become one of the best parts of her life. She has always wanted him to do what’s best for himself and his career — she has no part in that decision and doesn’t want to have a part — but if that means leaving BC, what does the future of them look like? 

The next morning, Danielle is up early and playing with her phone in bed mindlessly, waiting for the text from Will that he’s back and settled in his dorm. She knows the team had a flight scheduled to land early this morning and even before last night’s result, she was always going to see him.

Once she gets a text from Will, she’s bolting out the door, grabbing a small of groceries she had gotten the night before, knowing that him and Gabe’s fridge is emptier than usual and maybe a simple breakfast of a nice omelette and a smoothie will cheer them up. 

The door swings open before she can even text Will to let her in. She barely sees his face before he pulls her into a tight hug. She squeezes him, swaying them side to side, as students going in and out of the building step sideways to avoid them. 

“I’m sorry, dude.”

He somehow musters out a watery chuckle at the nickname that’s somehow become a petname between them. He mutters into her shoulder. “I fucking hate losing.”

She continues rubbing his back. “I know.”

“We were so close.”

“I know,” she pulls away and reaches up to run a hand through his hair. He practically collapses into himself, pulling her into another hug, resting his chin on top. “I’m proud of you regardless,” she says into his chest softly. “All of you. You worked so hard.”

“I love you,” he mutters and Danielle’s stomach flips. He first said it the day before he left for St. Paul when they were having a movie night at her place, snuggled up in her bed as he whispered it into her hair, but it still makes her throat close up with adoration. 

(She hasn’t said it back yet, but he hasn’t pressured her at all. She’s almost amazed at how much he doesn’t seem to be.)

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s go inside.”

He automatically reaches for the bag around her shoulders with a furrowed brow. “What’s in here?”

“Groceries. I figured you and Gabe hadn’t eaten yet so I thought I’d whip up an omelette or something.”

He steps into the empty elevator and kisses her for the first time since he left. “God, you’re an angel.”

“No, I think ahead,” she corrects. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there in person.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “I feel your support everywhere all the time.”

“You do?”

“With every call and text,” he assures. “Thanks for coming. I’m probably not going to be the best company today.”

“Will,” she taps his chin so he’ll look at her when she says her next statement. “There is nowhere else I would’ve been today, no matter the result.” He just pulls her closer to his side in response. 

When she gets to Will and Gabe’s suite, she immediately scurries around the kitchen as Will hovers. Usually she would shoo him away and make him wait elsewhere, but she knows he doesn’t wanna be alone right now. As she’s plating the second omelette, Gabe wanders out and she shoots him a small smile, stomach dropping at the bags under his eyes that mirror Will’s. She gestures at him to sit and slides over a plate and a glass of the green smoothie she made before giving him a hug. 

“Smitty’s lucky to have you,” Gabe says inbetween forkfuls. 

Danielle chuckles as she fixes herself a plate. “I’m just as lucky to have him. Where’s Ryan? I can fix him a plate if he wants.”

“Stop,” Will says with a look.

“What? I can!”

“I know,” he says fondly. “But you don’t need to.”

She gives him a deadpan look. “Well, is he coming?”

Will sighs. “He said he might stop by in a bit.”

“I’ll leave him some of the smoothie then.” She catches Will’s smile as she starts digging into her omelette, talking with Gabe about anything except the loss. 

After breakfast, she and Will venture to his room, where they lay in his bed and he puts on Brooklyn 99. As she’s laying on his chest and he’s twirling her hair around his finger, she can tell his head is everywhere but in this room. She lets him be like that for three episodes before she reaches for the remote to pause it. 

She turns to him. “What’s going through your mind?”

He shrugs. “Probably everything you think.” They sit in silence for a minute or two, before he pipes up again. “You can ask me.”

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because the answer is yours to decide, and I know you’re gonna ask for my opinion but I don’t want you to be influenced by it,” she smoothes over his furrowed brows with her thumbs. “Everything coming up next has been a thing long before we met. Even if I had an opinion about it, it shouldn’t be taken into account.”

“So you think I should leave BC and sign?”

“I think you should seriously weigh the pros and cons of both, which I already know you’re doing.”

He sighs with a wry smile. “You were born to be a lawyer.” 

She tilts her head to the side. “Do you want to talk about it now? Because we can.”

“Later, maybe.”

She hums. “Okay.”

“But I want to let you know that no matter what I decide, that how I feel about you is the same.” She raises an eyebrow but he’s so lost in his thoughts and what he wants to say that he misses it as he barrels on, determined. “Whatever decision I make, I still want this to keep going. Which is maybe unfair to ask you because there’s a chance I’d be all the way across the country. But I really care about you and-”

“Will,” she interrupts him, holding a hand up. “You’re getting so ahead of yourself. Make your decision first, and then we can talk about us, okay?”

“I don’t want you to think I’m just leaving you.”

“Huh? You’re not. I know you’re not. This is your career, dude. I’m never, ever going to hold that against you.” She presses a quick kiss on his lips to try to assure him. “I knew what I was getting into, okay? And I’m still here, aren’t I? We can talk about the logistics of it all later more in depth, if we even need to get to that point, but don’t worry yourself in a tizzy about the ‘us’ part of it so much, okay?”

He blinks. “I got you something.”

Deciding to go along with the sudden change of topic, she humors him. “What did you get me?”

He reaches over her to his bedside and she just lets him, exaggeratingly spitting out his hair that touches her mouth. He just rolls his eyes before retrieving a small white bag. 

She softens as he places it in her hands. “What’s this?”

He smiles, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You didn’t think I’d forget about your birthday, did you? I’m sorry I missed it.”

“You were competing for a national championship,” she responds automatically. “I didn’t-you didn’t have to get anything for me.”

He scoffs softly. “Bullshit,” he nods at the bag. “Open it.”

Biting her lip she carefully opens the bag, to see that there’s a ring box there. “Oh my God. Are you asking me to marry you?”

He rolls his eyes as she giggles. “You’re the worst.”

She pops open the box and it is a ring. She picks it up gently inbetween her fingers. A dainty leaf ring with light teal stones. It’s perfect. It matches with the rings she already wears. She slips it on and suddenly wants to cry. “I love it.”

“I’m glad.” 

She shoves the bag and box to the side before hugging him properly. “You didn’t have to, but thank you.”

“Happy birthday. Belated.”

As she looks down at the ring, she takes a deep breath. They’re going to be just fine. 

may 2024

As Ryan parks his car in front of Will’s childhood home in Lexington, Danielle suddenly feels like her feet are glued to the floor of his car. 

Ryan, noticing his friend’s girlfriend’s hesitation, nudges her shoulder gently. She’s quickly become one of his friends now, especially considering that he’s going to be staying at BC for at least another year. “Hey,” he says softly. “You good?”

“I’m great,” she responds automatically, reaching to the back seat to grab the box holding his present.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” he says. 

“It’s Will’s day,” she says firmly. “How I feel doesn’t matter.”

He clicks his tongue. “I’d disagree. And he would too. You can be happy for him and also sad that he’s moving to the other side of the country, you know?”

She looks over to him and swallows at the look on his face. The unspoken “I am” lingers in the air and she sighs. A small smile appears on her face as they exchange a look, as she leans forward to place a quick friendly kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for driving.”

“Anytime.”

The first person she recognizes as they filter into the home is Grace, who beams at the sight of them both. She wraps Ryan in a hug first, squeezing him tight before pushing him away to hug Danielle. 

“Oh, it’s so good to see you. How were finals?”

“A bit tough, I won’t lie.”

“You get used to it,” Grace says sympathetically, taking the box out of the younger girl’s hands. “He’s somewhere out back, surrounded by a bunch of people probably.”

Danielle nods and Grace must notice her lingering because the blonde offers her a reassuring smile. “He’s been talking about you all day.”

“That’s nice of him,” she comments softly. 

Grace gives her a knowing smile before lighting pushing her towards the direction of the back porch. “Go. He’ll be excited to see you.”

The second she walks outside, she smiles at all the teal balloons decorating the home and how wonderful the weather is to celebrate Will officially signing with San Jose. He made the decision a few weeks ago but waited until now to make it official and Danielle couldn't be any prouder. 

It seems like when her eyes land on him, he’s already looking back, eyes bright and a big smile on his face as he gestures for her to come to him. 

“Hi,” she says, leaning into his side for a hug. 

He instinctively kisses the top of her head. “Hi. This is Aidan, Nico and Max from the St. Sebs days. Boys, this is-”

“Dani,” Aidan says with a knowing smile. “Nice to meet you. Smitty hasn’t shut up about you since you guys met.”

“Unsurprising,” Danielle drawls out. “He’s kinda obsessed with me.”

The guys all laugh and Daniele giggles along with them. She looks up at Will, who’s beaming. She fights the urge to kiss him in front of all his friends, but he beats her to it, leaning down to kiss her sweetly. She laughs into his lips when his friends start chirping him goodheartedly. She hears Ryan saying that he’s used to seeing this shit all the time and that it’s frankly the cutest thing ever and Danielle is assured that Ryan’s a real one.

“Congrats,” she murmurs to Will, his friends now distracted. “I love you.”

(Danielle cracked a few weeks ago, when she finished her last final and Will took her out on a surprise date into the city. They were walking along the Charles River in the sunset and she felt like she just had to tell him she loved him at that moment. The smile from him after she said it is an image she’ll always have in her memory)

“Thanks, babe,” he says. He interlaces their hands together. “You ready to meet everyone?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

Will chuckles. “Come on. We’ll start with the cousins. They’re easy.”

She follows him as his thumb brushes against the ring.

[curatedcurios1ty]

I think Belphie is one of the brothers that acts the worst when you’re sick.

So in my head i'm thinking that human sickness is completely different then if a demon or angel were to get sick. (now that im thinking about it I don't think they would get sick at all lol, maybe.)

So with that being said, say mc has some run of mill sickness, like to the point where you can’t go to classes and have to stay in bed. But it’s not hospital sort of bad, nothing you can’t handle. The thing with Belphie is..

He won’t leave you alone!

Straight up does not understand why you keep kicking him out of your room

“You can't sleep here."

"Why not?"

"I'm sick"

“..Okay?" and he actually sounds genuinely confused to why he can’t lay down with you.

So you try and explain that while yes technically he could maybe still take his naps in here, it would help you recover faster if he didn’t. More importantly you’re kinda gross right now and don’t want anyone to see you like this.

“It’s okay if you’re a little gross. My gross little human.” He’s already curling up to you with that stupid small smirk of his, and you can’t even find the energy to argue. You don’t remember closing your eyes but soon enough you join him in dreamland.

—

What Belphegor won’t admit is that he loves whenever you’re sick. You push everyone else away (his brothers listen for the most part) but when he pushes back you back down, too weak to actually do anything.

With his brothers out the way he gets you to himself for days at a time (sometimes an entire week!) Not a single soul to bother the two of you.

Some deep, darker part of him wants to keep you like this forever. But he won’t (for now)

[dayas]

8 + elphaba & fiyero?

8 ⧽. giving them unabashed heart eyes when they do something cute and getting caught

AHHH MY FIRST FIYERABA PROMPT I AM SO EXCITED!!! I’ve been wanting to write for them since I got out of Wicked last week. Hopefully this is okay!

—

Fiyero Tigelaar isn’t exactly known for thinking. In fact, all he’s ever projected to his fellow students is that he doesn’t think, that he simply dances through life and refuses to invite further stresses and woes in with further consideration. And yet. He hasn’t been able to keep her out of his mind. Elphaba Thropp, the spirited, stunning witch he’d nearly trampled on accident in the forest. She’s the very reason he finds himself in the library of all places, a location he actively avoids. Books are mirrors just as much as they are windows into different worlds, and the last thing he wants to do is risk seeing himself reflected within the pages of some myth or legend.

She’s sitting at her favorite table, her head bent, her braids pulled back away from her face. Her finger traces a singular line a few times over before it moves on, winding itself around the ends of a few of her braids. She’s reading (no surprise there), but what catches his eye isn’t what she’s doing. It’s that she’s smiling. Fiyero doesn’t think he has ever seen Elphaba smile, not like the one she wears now. Something soft and secret, wholly hers, belonging to no one else. Unbeknownst to him, his own face mirrors her expression, a soft smile settled upon his lips. He watches her because he can’t help himself, because he’s still intrigued by her even when she’s silent.

“I can see you, you know.”

Elphaba’s eyes flicker up, catching his gaze and holding it hostage. Fiyero doesn’t flinch, only shrugs.

“I wasn���t certain you could. You’re missing your glasses today. I’m glad to know you’re so attuned to my presence, though.” Her eyes roll quickly, and that same fondness appears in his.

“Maybe in your dreams, Tigelaar.”

“So you dream about me, Thropp?”

She shakes her head, and he flashes a charming grin at her.

“What exactly happens in these dreams?”

“What do you want? You were staring rather intensely, so you must want something.”

Fiyero moves closer to her, settling a few steps away from where she is seated.

“Can’t a man admire beauty from afar?”

Elphaba frowns immediately.

“You don’t have to lie.”

He shocks himself by lowering his voice, the softness of his tone matched evenly by its authenticity.

“I’m not lying.”

Something flashes behind Elphaba’s eyes. He can’t tell what it is — she tears her gaze away from his before he is able to determine it.

When she speaks, it is barely audible.

“Why were you looking at me like that?”

Her eyes, so wide, a beautifully deep green, return to seek his out. The prince’s words are barely above a whisper, the blue of his own eyes holding hers steadily.

“You know why.”

Elphaba takes a sharp breath, biting down on her lip. She takes her book and stands abruptly, nearly running into him in her rush to leave.

“Elphaba — ” Fiyero says, confused, laying a gentle hand on her wrist to stop her. He’s thankful she does, and he uses his other hand to brush his fingers beneath her chin, turning her head so he can see her face. He’s shocked to find tears welling up in her eyes.

“You are a lot of things, Fiyero,” she whispers, her voice shaking, “but I never thought you were cruel. Not like this.”

“You don’t have to believe me.”

His own whisper is an impassioned blurt.

“You don’t have to believe me, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. That what I feel for you isn’t real.”

“It can’t be real.”

“It is.”

They are locked in a stalemate he never expected, but one he refuses to leave first. He feels it, when she begins to break down. He takes a step closer, cupping her cheek in his hand, his other holding hers.

“Tell me you don’t feel it too.”

He will leave her alone, he will, if she doesn’t. She’s close enough to him that their chests brush together with every breath they take.

“I can’t.”

The sound of heels clicking cuts through their moment.

“Meet me tonight,” Fiyero murmurs into her ear, “the woods. Eight o’clock.” Elphaba nods, and he takes off then, nearly crashing into Galinda as she puts herself in his path.

“There you are!” she chirps, as bright and bubbly as ever, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dearest.”

Fiyero lets her steer him away from the outside of the library and chatter on. He doesn’t hear a word she says; he’s too busy thinking of what will come when the sun sets and he can finally see the woman’s who’s forced him into thinking again.

[just-a-strange-boy]

a helping hand

part one

part two here

masterlist

Unable to use his hands after the accident, Stephen is in desperate need for some help. And who are you to refuse?

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (GN)

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), questionable sexual proposal, handjob, edging, orgasm control

A/N: IT'S TIME! buckle up bc this is shameless... and tbh who wouldn't love to help our poor Stephen in need

"Of course I'll help out", you had said, thinking that you could spare some time, to sporadically take care of Christine's friend, determined to offer a hand whenever you could.

It was a clear arrangement – whenever she couldn't be around to help, you'd be the one to step in for the time being. Keep an eye on him, help him around the house, and make sure he won't do anything stupid that might hurt himself.

And you had just been fine with that. It wasn't an issue for you to pop by once in a while. You had flexible work hours and being the reliable person that you were, Christine knew you'd definitely jump in when needed.

What you hadn't expected was kind of getting stuck with helping, something you had most definitely not signed up for, to the point where you found yourself regularly on duty during your free time. Not that you didn't like to help out – there were worse things you could have imagined and there must have been a good subconscious reason why you kept agreeing to it.

You just hadn't planned to get so wrapped up in it.

Instead of simply sparing a couple of hours for Christine's friend because you could and thought helping him out was a good deed, you had ended up agreeing to an entire week on duty at his apartment, because someone had the audacity to leave for a medical congress, letting the task of caring for him fall into your hands and not missing the opportunity to instate you as a personal watchdog.

"Yeah, don't worry about it", you had said, though her request initially confused you.

Why was she asking you to stay around his apartment for an entire week? Not even Christine stayed around him for that long, knowing fairly well how insufferable his behavior was sometimes, glad she had the distraction of leaving for work and getting out of the house once in a while.

Maybe you wouldn't have had to agree to staying at his apartment all week. A couple of hours would have sufficed and you couldn't even quite explain to yourself why you still put yourself up to the challenge.

Perhaps it was because Christine always had the tendency to put on that kind of tone and expression on her face that expressed 'Please do it for me or else I won't be able to get rest'.

Being the worry wart that she was, she wouldn't have let it go until you caved – which was exactly what you had done, agreeing to her request anyways and accepting you would just have to pester the man in question with your presence.

He probably would have been happy to stay on his own for a bit, with no one around to constantly get on his nerves. You often felt like this was exactly what Christine and you were doing.

He would have been fine, probably, because it wasn't like he was incapable of taking care of himself. Yes, he was in a vulnerable position, his last surgery hadn't been that long ago and his hands were still in some state. There were things he couldn't do on his own, he needed to rely on help with certain things, but he wasn't a child needing to be coddled.

Christine's friend, Stephen, had gotten into a fucking wreck of a car crash, leaving him unable to use his hands, which had taken the most damage. You had heard plenty about Stephen Strange before all that happened, considering he had been good friends with Christine ever since she had gotten employed at the Metro General. But you had never had the pleasure of truly getting to know him until you began helping him out.

Plenty of people probably knew, as did you, that Stephen used to be a truly brilliant neurosurgeon, who would obviously not be able to continue to work in that field since his hands were pretty mangled. Which of course was really frustrating him to the point where he had refused to accept help from outside, all alone in his stupidly huge apartment, relying on not another person in the world but Christine, who was pretty much the only friend he had.

And now he had you too, since Christine (understandably so) also needed a break from Stephen sometimes and had pulled in you, her sibling, for help.

At first Stephen had been mad at her for even bringing someone else around for something as ridiculous as being cared for, claiming he didn't need to be pitied by another person, as pity was all he had for himself and his lost career.

But once his frustration was out of the way, he had warmed up quickly to you. It might have been because he had quickly learned how snarky you were, unashamed to speak your mind and comment on his occasional dickish behavior, volleying his little jabs and teasing him right back.

Or perhaps, it was simply because you weren't throwing him a pity party, while never once belittling him for the amount of help he actually needed.

By all means, Stephen should consider himself lucky that someone put up with his shit.

It was a given that Christine helped him out, considering they'd been pretty close friends for years and colleagues as well, she was aggressively caring for those she loved, and since Stephen didn't have a lot of other people to rely on, she fit the role perfectly.

You also quickly began to understand why she had wanted to split 'Stephen duty' with someone else though and being family, you were apparently the only reasonable choice.

She could be certain that he wasn't going to dismiss you or else he would have to endure the wrath of Christine – and she sure had a temper people knew better than to mess with.

So had he though.

He truly was the perfect match for butting heads with on the regular. Sometimes you were convinced he was just being a cocky and arrogant ass out of spite, to rile you up, to get on your nerves as a payback for getting on his, to have some fun because he was getting sick of his recovery at home.

Sometimes you acted out of spite too, placing things out of his reach, screwing on bottle caps extra tight, rearranging his cupboards, to the point where he was forced to ask for help (which he hated doing), but this, as much as most of your comments, was all meant in good humor.

You were sure that Stephen got it. He didn't seem to mind that you were head-strong and speaking your mind, didn't seem too bothered by the harsh things you said sometimes or the not-so-friendly tone you tended to use when it was necessary.

He even seemed to find it rather amusing sometimes, making for playful banter, and in a way you were almost certain that he liked having someone to argue with, even if only for his entertainment.

It offered him some sort of distraction he desperately needed, after things going dastardly wrong, after all this suffering due to his own stupid lapse of judgment, letting himself be distracted while driving and leaping down a cliff.

There was a lot of pent up frustration within Stephen, a lot of sadness, and desperation. Things he didn't necessarily show, but obviously felt anyways. So whenever you managed to put a smile on his face with your gentle, friendly teasing, you were relieved to see him in a different mood.

You liked Stephen quite a bit, no matter how much he was irking you on some days – and no matter what it was, you were always there to help. So maybe staying at the apartment all week wouldn't be as bad.

Surprisingly enough, Stephen hadn't resented the idea either, though of course dropping the occasional comment about not wanting to be under supervision 24/7.

While you were not one to coddle, going after your own work on your laptop and giving Stephen some space during the day, you were insistent on taking care of his basic well-being, as usual.

You did care for Stephen, and not just because of your sister. In some sort, you considered him your own friend as of now, wanting to make sure he was having a reasonably pleasant recovery, fully aware how much it must suck to go through all of this.

How far you were willing to go though? No one, not even you, would have been able to tell.

"You can either eat the food I make for you or go back to wasting your money on shitty takeout", you had set pretty clear the first evening, scolding him like he was an insolent child not wanting to eat his greens, staring him down at the kitchen table when he wouldn't bother touching the dinner you made, "But I sure as hell won't let you miss out a meal."

Whenever you had stepped in prior, you were trying to make sure Stephen ate properly and regularly, because you knew the man occasionally refused to take a meal altogether, which usually ended in an argument. When arguing with Christine, she tended to give in.

While you were really fed up with his stubbornness sometimes, you had always accomplished getting at least some food into Stephen and this time was no different.

A mere two days later, you had been quietly working on your laptop in the living room, waiting for Stephen to finish up his shower, when you heard a thud and a loud "Fuck", thinking that perhaps the shampoo bottle had slipped out of his hands. It didn't sound like a dangerous bang, so you weren't sure whether you needed to check on him or not, but just in case something bad had occurred...

You still got up, caught a peek into the bathroom and rolled your eyes hard when noticing that it hadn't been his shampoo, and dear Lord, Stephen had apparently managed to slip, the spray of the shower still raining down on him while he was sulking on the tiled floor.

"Did you hurt yourself?", you asked instead of 'Are you okay?', because you knew that Stephen felt far from okay the way things were. He was obviously ashamed this had happened, any other person would have been too, but accepting of the situation itself, accepting that he needed help.

He didn't dare to look at you then, but you could tell there was defeat written all over him and it probably wasn't helping his embarrassment that he was stark naked – which wasn't the first time you had seen him like this, as you had assisted a few showers before and gotten into plenty of awkward situations whereas you'd seen a bit more than asking for, but still... the two of you sure could have imagined a more comfortable setting.

Though you were rather unafraid to touch him, which was a good thing. How else could you have possibly helped?

You touched Stephen all the time. Helping him get dressed? Done that. Combed his hair? Yup. Shaved his stupidly handsome face? Also yes. Changed the dressings on his hands? A given. Assisting him in holding as much as a spoon without dropping it? Daily. Tucking him into bed at night? Okay, maybe not that one, but you sure would have, if he had asked you to.

"It's hard to fall down gracefully without using your hands to help yourself", Stephen sighed, but turned out to be unharmed by his tumble, though he would likely still get away with some bruises from the impact. Coming round the shower cubicle, you could see his knees seemed to have taken a lot of the brunt, not too mention he had cracked the skin of his elbow open, trying to not use his hands to ease the momentum.

"This is ridiculous. Slipping in the shower like some seventy year old sod”, he grumbled.

"I slipped in the shower once as a child and that's how I lost two of my teeth. It happens, Stephen", you tried to ease the mood, momentarily seizing the spray, so you could aid Stephen to get back up without getting too wet yourself. You casually looked him over – he seemed fine enough to continue. At least he hadn't banged his head or something. Still, you decided to stay nearby for the rest of his shower, making sure he was able to get out unharmed.

"What were you even doing? Were you feeling dizzy?", you inquired, helping him towel off his hair, quietly acknowledging how long it had gotten since meeting him for the first time and especially how the gray on his temples had begun to spread.

"No, just unaware of my surroundings for a moment, didn't think and... there I went", Stephen answered, but you weren't sure if that was the whole truth.

You accepted it though, continuing to help him dry off. Situations like these brought an uncomfortable awareness to your mind - he was putting so much trust into you, letting you help him like this, and you had never really managed to find a good answer as to why he was allowing you do all of those things for him.

All the signs of trust were obviously there. He was letting himself be vulnerable with you, being in situations that were so deeply intimate without refusal or much shame.

Stephen was allowing you to touch him too, aiding him with getting dressed, letting you check his newly won bruises today – and as usual, quietly accepted your care for his hands, his sore point, tender and heavily scarred, so that he mostly kept them hidden beneath a layer of bandages, ashamed of having anyone see them.

Sometimes, only sometimes, you even got the impression that whenever your hands were on him, it seemed to ease the tension out of his shoulders, never minding the undoubted awkwardness of the moment.

You weren't one to judge. Maybe he did want a bit of comfort after all and therefore didn't mind being taken care of sometimes, even though always pretending that he didn't need any help or tending to.

Everyone needed someone. Even him.

Stephen was a very lonely person. He would have never admitted to it, but all the fame and the glory from his neurosurgery days hadn't really ensured stable friendships and people being actually interested in him on a personal level. On the contrary, a lot of people had dropped Stephen rather quickly. But not Christine.

And thanks to her, you wouldn't anytime soon either.

You grew aware of Stephen's actual issue, when your work was interrupted for another time that same day. Finally coming to actually work on a commission that had been prompted weeks ago, setting the final touches to the project, tapping away on your graphic tablet, you took note of the noises coming from Stephen's bedroom.

Somehow you tried to make sense of it as moans of discomfort, anguish, perhaps he was having a nightmare, perhaps he was in pain, perhaps he was just frustrated he couldn't sleep, a reoccurring problem he had described to you before.

Whatever it was, it did appeal to your little helper syndrome and you at least felt like you needed to look after him, figure out if anything was going on that might require your help.

So you went to check on him, no regard for personal privacy, quietly opening the door to the bedroom, about to inquire what was going on and whether he was okay.

"Stephen? Is everything... oh..." Shit. Okay.

You had barely crossed the threshold to the room when you took note of what exactly was happening. Because the noises of frustration weren't rooted in trouble sleeping, but as it seemed in sexual desperation – and apparently the man had been trying to get off, unable to take care of his evident erection, pulling the blankets over himself immediately once noticing that you were standing in the doorway.

Awkward.

Standing like a deer in headlights, you wondered which one of you would have rather wanted a hole to open in the ground and swallow you whole to avoid the complete embarrassment.

"God, fuck, I'm so sorry", you apologized after overcoming the initial full-body freeze, not sure whether to leap out of the room, cover your eyes or just act bluntly about it. Logically it would have been best to not make a big deal out of it, because it wasn't, not really.

Just a private moment you had interrupted. Nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone had needs.

"I was... uh... I was worried something was the matter and...", you tried to explain then, going on stuttering and noticing that nothing you were about to say was going to save the awkwardness of the situation.

"Well, you know what's the matter now", Stephen sighed, barely illuminated by the soft lamp light from the bedside table, though still turning away from you in plain shame, continuing on with the sort of self-pity you had never experienced so strongly from Stephen before.

"I'm pathetic. Can't shower without help, can't live without help, I can't even jerk off without help, because of this stupid fucking car crash and these stupid fucking hands and I can't even blame anyone but myself for it."

It wasn't all too often that the man voiced his own hurt so intensely, clearly on edge, emotional about what had and, in that case, what hadn't happened.

Understanding of his evident frustration, but unsure what to do with him now, in this state, you contemplated. Things were already awkward enough and it didn't help you remained standing there while Stephen was wallowing in self-pity, and you weren't really sure why the idea of helping him out even crossed your mind in the first place.

Sure, helping around the apartment was no big deal, attending to Stephen's needs was okay, but taking care of this rather specific issue... you didn't want to push his boundaries too much after all.

And yet you were so bold as to ask, "So, are you in need of a helping hand?"

"Fuck off, now is not the time to make fun of me", Stephen groaned, probably ready to smother himself (or you) with one of the pillows, "Life already mocks me enough. I don't need to have you ridiculing me because of this."

"I'm not... I'm not mocking you", you assured him, finally moving, closing the door shut behind you as you went over to the bed, watching his cowered figure, "I'm just... I'm not pitying you. It's just...me... requesting like... a favor for a friend in need? I'm sure I could help you out some way? If you wanted me to, that is."

"Why would you even offer that?", Stephen asked, though appearing neither dismissive nor exceptionally shaken about what you were suggesting. A little in disbelief perhaps, but that wasn't surprising since you were clearly deciding to cross a boundary for the two of you here.

"Because life's been shit for you and I guess you could need some relief. Since you can't seem to get off on your own, I'm offering to help you with it", your answer seemed to make him consider and you planted yourself down on his bedside. You reached out and touched his shoulder, trying to find out how he would respond to you initiating touch.

"Maybe it will help you unwind and relax?"

Stephen turned to look at you. "We will never speak of this ever again", he hummed in agreement, "And not a word to anyone. Especially not Christine."

"Promise", you agreed – this was definitely not something you were meaning to boast about. You just wanted to help and the decision to do this for Stephen had been surprisingly easy to make.

A normalcy had kind of settled over the situation, which however didn't mean that you weren't feeling some type of way. You were a little jittery as you slid into bed next to Stephen, making sure not to cuddle up to him too much, because you weren't sure how he would feel about any unnecessary affections.

This was just about a quick hand job and that was it. It already must have taken a lot for Stephen to even accept the offer. Not to mention, a lot of desperation too. But he trusted you. This was a friendly gesture and nothing more. It didn't have to mean anything, let alone be a big thing between you, something that might never be mentioned ever again.

Gently pulling back the blanket, you probably held your breath as much as he did, reaching out, making sure to touch Stephen where his sleep shirt had ridden up at first, your hand finding its place on his stomach, letting him get accustomed to your touch, which wasn't entirely new to him – this time with a little different intention than usually, which made it all the more exciting.

The man drew out a shaky breath, agitated even, and his muscles were tensing up before he was even thinking of relaxing. Looking at him, you could see there was concentration on his brow, his gaze averted to the ceiling, neither daring to look at you nor at where your hand was resting.

"Okay?", you asked.

"Yeah", Stephen said, barely a whisper. His consent urged you to go on, your fingers brushing over his abdomen, following the trail of hair down his navel, fully aware that his pants were still bunched down somewhere around his knees, and you could have reached for him right away. But you didn't, sliding your hand past his arousal, stroking along his thighs instead, bracing yourself to make the next step and touch him more intimately.

But even your hand on him alone was seemingly enough to awaken all sorts of things within Stephen and he sucked in a sharp breath as your hand skirted his inner thighs. He was warm, his thighs firm under your touch, and you gently squeezed them in reassurance.

"You're a damn tease", he muttered.

You thought replying something witty, but you knew better and just bit your tongue this time, curiously watching his face, not meaning to stare at his genitals. It wasn't like Stephen didn't seem to like it. He had closed his eyes, seemed concentrated, small breaths were slipping past his lips, and he swallowed hard.

As you continued to carefully caress his thighs, you could most certainly feel him squirm, tensing again, but not because he was uncomfortable. He was aroused, you had no doubts, and his words just made it all the more evident he wanted you to go on.

“Please don't make me wait”, he requested, so quiet as if he was speaking a forbidden thought aloud.

You didn't, fingers trailing the path up his thighs, enjoying the little huff that escaped Stephen when you brushed past his balls, reaching for the half-hard member, responding to your touch with a twitch, stirring in interest. Wrapping your fingers around him, you grabbed the base of his cock in a tight hold.

"God, I feel like I'm about to burst already", Stephen groaned in anguish as his breathing almost turned labored instantly, pressing his head back into the pillows, and the notion alone encouraged you to be a little more bold in your advances.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Spilling your cum all over my hand and I haven't even really gotten to touch you?", you chuckled, unsure how Stephen would react to your words, but unable to hold them back. He didn't seem to mind the dirty talk though – if anything, it seemed to rouse him even more. You could feel the warm flesh throbbing in your hand, practically begging to be touched, already craving some release.

But maybe you didn't have to make this as quick as you had planned for initially, only allowing him slow movements of your hand, gently tugging on his cock, drawing out soft moans. And dear lord, he sounded wonderful. It was entirely entrancing and you found it hard to choose where you'd rather look – at the subtle emotions passing Stephen's face during your ministrations or his erect cock. With utmost interest, your eyes flicked back and forth.

You made sure to touch all of him, from the base all the way to his tip, thumb gliding over the glistening cockhead, a satisfied smirk coming to your lips when you noticed how much precum he was already leaking, circling his glans, before stroking down again, tracing the veins on his length, making sure to give special attention to those spots that made him buck his hips when touched.

No wonder Stephen was responsive and desperate for it. You had no idea how long it might have been since someone had touched him, intimately most of all. Stephen didn't have anyone, wasn't partnered and you doubted that your sister was that sort of friend. His own hands wouldn't do, which had caused you two to end up like this in the first place. Touch-starved like this, there was no doubt Stephen deserved someone to take proper care of him – and you had made it your mission to do so.

Unfortunately for him, you weren't all that nice to just give everything to him right away.

So as the man tried to thrust into your hand, wanting to chase his own pleasure, needing more, you eased the grip of your fingers around him, almost letting go off him, stopping any sort of movement altogether, earning a huff from Stephen.

"Oh, fuck off", he groaned with evident frustration, fully aware you were doing this on purpose.

"Do you want me to stop then?", you asked, with a grin Stephen didn't see as he still kept his eyes closed, and loved the power you held over him - you could have just taken your hand away, walked off and left the man even more desperate than before. Of course, you would have never been so cruel to actually do this, now that you had already gotten started, but the thought was amusing.

"No", another groan followed, "I want you to go on, you asshole." Then a pause. "Please", he added then.

"As you wish", so you tightened the grip around him again, jerking him at a slower pace, gently at first, before beginning to move your hand a little quicker, knowing very well that the change of rhythm, the change of pressure applied, was going to keep Stephen more on edge than anything else. You knew how, in some ways, it was more than cruel to tease him like this, in his position no less, but if Stephen was seeking release that badly, you might at least make the best of it and draw it out as much as he could.

You'd make sure to give him an exceptional orgasm.

So whenever you felt Stephen tense up, his breath quickening, his moans increasing, his words more pleading, brows furrowing, biting down on his bottom lip, when he might have been just on that threshold to achieving an orgasm, you stilled any movements again, sometimes taking your hand off him entirely, sometimes only abandoning his cock for a moment, though always long enough for a looming orgasm to be ruined entirely. It was a torturous game to play, trying to bring Stephen close to the edge each time, only to deny him pleasure the last second.

It didn't take you much to drive him to madness with fleeting touches, promising release, not quite allowing him to get it, and then doing it all over again.

The sight of Stephen was wonderful. He was squirming, erratically breathing, his sweet moans turning to frustrated groans, his words reaching from "God, please, just let me come" to "I hate you for doing this to me", but still welcoming your hand whenever it returned to touch him, each time a little more.

You didn't even want to imagine how much his balls must have been aching after minutes of being edged and denied, but of course you decided to take pity on Stephen eventually. You weren't that heartless after all and when you finally gave into him chasing his pleasure, allowing him that sweet relief, guiding towards the long awaited orgasm, it was absolutely worth it.

For the last few strokes, you even let him thrust up into your hand, gently guiding him through his orgasm as it struck. A long and shaky moan escaped his throat, a sound of relief coming from deep within, his body completely tensing up, before that concentration finally left his brow and was replaced by a look of ease, surrendering to the sensations altogether.

You could feel his cock pulsing, thick cum spilling all over your fingers and it didn't even seem to end there. He really was bursting, arching his back off the mattress as he was coming loads and loads, his entire body was trembling, sweetly groaning.

You doubted anything could have ruined the moment for Stephen now and thoroughly enjoyed how he was seeming to enjoy himself, jerking him through the remaining throes of passion, until his body just slumped.

Noticing his orgasm had passed, you eventually took your hand off his cock, gently placing it on his lower stomach instead, both sticky with cum anyways. You smiled to yourself, following the movement of his chest, still breathing heavily, and decided to wait for him to calm down again, allowing him another moment of comfort, allowing him to have another presence near, someone warm and caring.

He deserved it.

Though it wasn't like you weren't doing this at least a little bit for your own gain. You had enjoyed doing this for Stephen, had drank in the sight of him, this intimate moment forever etched inside your brain. And now that you thought about it, you wondered about whether you could still only consider this a friendly favor or if perhaps you wanted things to change between you.

You had never really questioned the kind of feelings you harvested for the man. Or could see yourself potentially having for him, if there was any sort of potential at all. Of course, you had come to consider him a good friend – but good friends didn't just randomly pay each other sexual favors, did they? Not like you were counting on this being more than a one time thing... well, unless he wanted to perhaps.

"Jesus... that was kind of... mind blowing. I mean I haven't come for weeks, but I don't think I have ever come that hard in general...ever", Stephen commended you, interrupting your train of thought, still a little out of breath, "Fucking hell, where did you even learn to give handjobs like that?"

"Years of studying", you joked, deciding to definitely not give him an honest answer to his question, looking at him to find him curiously eyeing you in return, "Sorry for being a tease. Can't say that I didn't enjoy it though."

"So did I. As you can probably tell", Stephen sighed, seeming a lot more content, showing you one of his rare smiles, "Though I'm probably going to need to wash up again now. I'm sticky and sweaty."

"It was my pleasure. Make sure to tell me if you ever need assistance again", you patted his stomach and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, before withdrawing altogether, trying not to smear any of the sticky fluid on your hand anywhere else it wasn't supposed to be, deciding to flee the room quite fast after realization hit that you had just jerked your sister's friend off. You had made your own friend, a man relying on your help day by day, come the hardest in his life ever.

Though perhaps it didn't matter, for this was only going to be a one time thing and you'd accomplished to help him out, only because he needed it. The moment was gone now and it had been good while it had lasted. That was the most important thing.

Stephen's voice stopped you in the doorway when he spoke your name. "Thank you. Not just for this. For everything you do for me.”

You turned your head back for a moment, gave him a reassuring smile, acknowledging his gratitude, and left anyways.

[binancydrew]

and when you are all ready

Her heart was hammering against her ribcage. It was just a dream, right? They had all seen weirder things in Horseshoe Bay. Nancy gets stuck in a timeloop.

a @secretsleuthexchange gift for the most wonderful girl in the world, Jen, @nightspires x

⋙ read on AO3

[nerdygeekypastrychef]

Haven’t really had writing time lately but OH I’ve wanted it. Started a 30 day OTP challenge for Steddie, hopefully I can post in October. But, thought I’d give a sample of day 1 to see if there’s interest.

01 - Holding hands

Steve didn’t realize that he was a touchy person until Nancy pointed it out to him.

“I guess I don’t really mind but we don’t have to touch all the time, you know? Sometimes you hang off me.” She’d pulled him to a side hallway to talk to him, at least. No one else around to hear him get embarrassed.

“Gee, sorry Nance. I’ll just try and keep my hands to myself.” He’d pointedly shoved his hands into his pockets before they walked back into the main hallway. For years afterwards, he heard her slightly condescending words in his head telling him to keep his hands to himself.

Robin didn’t like to be touched in general but she didn’t fuss when they sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch watching movies. It certainly helped his need for contact but it only went so far. He still couldn’t help wanting more.

Eddie joining their little trauma-bonded family was a blessing in a lot of ways but for Steve he was everything. Eddie spent the entire time that he was healing at Steve’s house and they were in constant contact. At first it was because Eddie needed him; when he was first released from the hospital Eddie couldn’t do anything on his own except hold a glass of water to drink.

Slowly but surely, Eddie’s body healed but he never took the touching away from Steve. Pats on the back. Sitting hip to hip on the couch, arm casually thrown over someone’s shoulders. Feet knocking together under the table at breakfast. Steve was thriving. Steve was falling in love.

It was movie night and Steve was pressed up against Eddie in the oversized recliner while every other surface was taken up by their friends. Steve was sitting stiffly in the chair, trying to hold himself apart from Eddie because someone told him that they were being weird.

Eddie noticed. He reached over and grabbed Steve’s hand, pulling it into his own, threading their fingers together and squeezing tight before turning back to the movie. Steve’s heart was fluttering, feeling Eddie’s palm against his own; feeling Eddie’s long musician’s fingers curled with his. Eddie turned away from the tv, caught his eye in the flickering light and winked before squeezing comfortingly again.

[wintersstan]

KK taking care of drunk reader

DRUNK IN LOVE - Kamorea Arnolds

Warnings: none (?)

headcanons

-------˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹ 𐦍 ˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹-------

• kk would be calm and collected once she realizes you’re drunk, she knows exactly what to do having taken care of party Paige before and she handles the situation with care

•the first thing she would do is make sure you drink lots of water, basically forcing you to hydrate yourself

-“baby you have to drink water, here” she said softly as she hands you a cold bottle of water

•she would definitely listen to all of your drunken rambles, offering funny jokes or supportive words

-“yeah? what happened after that?” she laughed, her chin resting on her hand as she looked at you showing she was listening to your every word

•would definitely drop everything and anything she was doing if you needed her to come get you

- kk was sitting in bed, getting ready to go to sleep when she got a phone call from you. she answered it immediately. “hey, what’s up?” she asked, her voice filled with sleep. “um- can you come get me?” you slurred slightly due to the liquor running through your veins. “of course, whats the address?” she asked already getting up and putting her shoes on

•she wouldn’t judge you for how drunk you got, maybe a few teasing comments here and there the next day but she understands none the less

•kk would definitely make you a snack or food if you wanted some, no matter how late it was

- “i kinda want some toast right now..” you mumbled, laying on the couch. kk stood up and walked to the kitchen without hesitation. “what kind? plain, cinnamon, peanut butter, toasted pb&j?”

•she’d stay by your side all night, making sure you were okay and had enough liquid in your system. or even just sitting by you in the bathroom if you felt like throwing up

•she uses her humor to lighten the mood, cracking small jokes or sharing a funny story of her and Paige’s antics to get your mind off of the feeling of nausea

•her follow up care would be the best!! giving you some ibuprofen if you have a headache and getting you drinks/food with plenty of electrolytes in them to make sure your hangover isn’t that bad

-------˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹ 𐦍 ˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹-------

i actually haven’t written in so long, let alone ever writing headcanons so i apologize if this sucks🥰 (i also wrote this a lil bit intoxicated..)

[landhoe-norris]

Formula One Fanfic Masterlist

Carlando: Carlos Sainz & Lando Norris

Life After You [Chapters, Complete] 

Summary: Lando laid his hands on the lifeless chest of his fiancé's body, dressed in the suit he was supposed to get married in. He wanted to cry, to scream, to punch something. Everything had been taken away from him in the blink of an eye, and yet he couldn't mourn it. Not in the way he was expected to. He had shed tears when he had gotten the call, the voice on the other end telling him the man he was supposed to marry in two weeks had died in a car crash. But since then, there had been nothing. And now, on the weekend that was supposed to be the happiest of his life, he was watching his future being lowered into the ground.

all you have to do (stay) [One-Shot]

Summary: Lando doesn't quite know how it had evolved to this, how he had become the grid's trophy or consolation prize in some instances. All he knows is that it fills a void, gives him purpose, and makes him feel wanted.

He loves taking care of them.

But who's taking care of Lando?

the adventures of omega princess lando and his good boy, alpha carlos sainz jr [Series]

Summary: Lando is an omega princess who doesn't like to be told what to do, until he meets his new bodyguard, carlos sainz jr

the beauty of any first, is that it leads to a thousand others [One-Shot]

Summary: a snippets of firsts for carlos and lando

hanging by a moment (here with you) [One-Shot] Carlando + others

Summary: "Lando’s skin is golden from prolonged hours in the sun during summer break, and Carlos longs to kiss the juncture of his neck and shoulder where he’s especially sensitive. He wants to lick his way down to the perky nipples and graze his thumb over each one to make Lando shiver in excitement. But Carlos can wait; he’s perfected that."

or

Lando gets taken apart by Max and Charles, but in the end, only Carlos can make him experience pure ecstasy.

lando and carlos and carlos and carlos [Series] Carlando + others

Summary: Lando keeps making mistakes with men called Carlos. He keeps making mistakes until one night when he doesn't / Carlos watches and listens as Lando keeps making mistakes with men named Carlos, chipping away at his heart and mind until one night when he becomes whole again.

Good For You (I Just Wanna Be) [One-shot]

Summary: Carlos didn't expect this - to fall for his 19-year-old teammate. He also didn't expect his 19-year-old teammate to want to top him. And the last thing he expected was for Lando's dick to be this big.

But Carlos isn't complaining.

F1 Taskmaster edition [One-Shot]

Summary: Five teams, four drivers in each. A different task for each team, how will they handle it?

This is Taskmaster, F1 edition.

Black Velvet [Chapters, Complete]

Summary: Lando has gone through a lot in his life. When he was 13, his mom went missing, and he was left with a dad who wanted nothing to do with him. All of this has caused abandonment issues that make him cling to anyone who shows him kindness.

When he starts working at Sapphire, a strip club owned by Lewis Hamilton, he finally starts figuring himself out. But what he doesn't realise is that he's launching a chain of events that can ultimately lead him to lose everything he holds dear to his heart while simultaneously resurrecting the ghosts of his past.

Impractical Magic [Chapters, Complete]

Summary: Charles and Lando were born into a family where falling in love means you end up dead. They take different paths in life, Charles wanting nothing more in life than to feel the exhilaration love brings, and Lando too afraid to ever put himself out there.

When Charles gets into trouble with one of his boyfriends, Lando must figure out how to help him while trying his best not to fall in love with the one man who can take his life apart, Detective Carlos Sainz.

summer sweat [One-Shot]

Summary: "Now it's Carlos' turn to bite his lips. A moan almost escapes them, but he manages to hold back. Lando puts his lips on Carlos' earlobe and presses a soft kiss to it before whispering.

'I fingered myself in the bathroom. I'm ready.' It's an order, one that Carlos is barely able to deny.

'Not in front of your parents, Lando!' It's strangled; all of his energy is going into keeping his composure."

or

Carlos spends a hot summer day with Lando and his family, and Lando has some plans.

The Sins of the Father [Chapters, Complete]

Summary: Lando and Carlos are detectives that work together. Carlos is in a happy relationship, while Lando has a problem with settling down and spends his free time fucking around (and sometimes finding out).

Lando has emotional problems after his mother was murdered and his father had a mental breakdown resulting in him moving out of the country and leaving Lando with his former police partner and his wife. His mom's murder has never been solved, and when new evidence is brought up, Lando goes against everyone and everything he knows is right, to make sure that he can avenge her.

before you go [One-Shot]

Summary: "And then came the ultimatum. It was veiled as a proposition for a contract extension, but it was so much more than that.

The meaning was sharp and clear - Carlos needed to uphold an image, the traditional legacy of Ferrari. The proposal was simple, yet it tore through Carlos like a knife.

To secure his place in the team, to continue being part of the legacy he had craved since he was a young boy, Carlos was to enter into a public relationship with a woman, a facade to uphold traditional values."

Or

Carlos has a choice to make. Love or legacy?

don't look back (in anger) [Chapters, Complete]

Summary: Lando Wauman, a brilliant young engineer, shows up in to his new job in Maranello with a lot to prove but also with a secret and a plan for revenge. Lando quickly works his way up the ranks, but things get complicated when he falls in love with one of the drivers of the team he's trying to destroy.

You Found Me [Chapters, Complete]

Summary: Absolutely nothing had gone to plan. Lando had known that teaming up with the CNI was a bad idea, he didn’t trust them one bit. Especially Sainz, with who he had unfortunately been partnered.

or

Lando is MI6 and is forced to work with an arrogant CNI intelligence officer named Carlos.

Danger Zone [Chapters, Unfinished]

Summary: Lando "Baby" Norris. One of the youngest ever to be accepted into the TOPGUN program, where the best of the skies come together. There he has to come to terms with his past, the looming shadow of his father, his appetite for self-destruction and the fact that the guy with the slight Spanish accent makes his heart go faster than the plane he's flying.

buttered popcorn [One-Shot]

Summary: date night

Chaos in Egypt [Chapters, Unfinished]

Summary: Lando, George and Carlos reluctantly team up to find a lost city in Egypt, and chaos ensues.

Based on The Mummy (1999)

Charlos Sr: Carlos Sainz Sr & Charles Leclerc

papa carlos and his pillow princess [Series]

Summary: Charles and his teammate's dad. What could go wrong?

Carlando Sr: Carlos Sainz Sr & Lando Norris

he's not you but he'll have to do [One-Shot]

Summary: Lando wants Carlos and might even need him. But Carlos is in a relationship and has no interest in Lando.

Carlos Sr is the next best thing.

Other Pairings

worship me beneath the sheets [One-Shot] Charles/Lando/Daniel/Max

Summary: "It's so sensual, the way they're moving together, and Charles is lapping up the attention he's getting from both men. It's what he thrives on, craves, one of the reasons he became a model in the first place. All eyes are on him, always. He looks back up at Max only to see that he doesn't have his attention anymore, and neither does Daniel. He's looking over their shoulders. Charles wants to look behind to see what has captured his attention, but he's fairly stuck between their two bodies, so he doesn't; he just looks expectantly at Max as he holds out his hand. Charles can see a mop of curls come into his vision out of the corner of his eye, grabbing at Max's outstretched hand."

or

Best friends Daniel and Max meet strangers Charles and Lando at a club and take them back to their hotel.

the night belongs to lovers [One-Shot] Twitch Quartet

Summary: the twitch quartet celebrate in australia

[wodakoda]

“Mistake,” you repeat, just as you’d told Mr. Silvair earlier. “It was an mistake, an accident, he didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Them Possible Kill You. Them See Blood, Them Hurt You. Them Unsafe,” Mr. Crawling shakes his head, his grip on your hand tightening. “Me Understand Mistake, Them Mistake Hurt You. Future Mistake Possible Kill You. Mistake Danger, Them Unsafe!” He explains, voice gradually shifting into something akin to a plead towards the end. //Chapter 3/4, 6k words... (Total 16k as of chapter 3!)

[kernsing]

Han Yuhyeon has always been aware of the words others call him.

Some names are more important than others.

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

Texts with bakugou part 25

likes comments and reblogs appreciated!!

-k

[writingonleaves]

to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv

word count: 6.4k

author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!

*****

When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think. 

“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”

As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it. 

As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary. 

Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night. 

hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date 

Not even a minute later, and she gets a response. 

what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning

the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?

not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work

my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week

no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.

lucky timing

lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?

works for me!

you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier

are you kidding me?

i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out

where are you in the city? I’ll come to you

She smiles to herself.

I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere 

i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?

sure

i also can suggest some places as well!! 

appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan

Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.

okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week 

(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different. 

He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)

kinda wish we didn’t

oh?

saturday is so far away 

you’ll survive

She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.  

i found a place. well, a couple

i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do

*screenshot of list in Notes app*

i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever

sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working

I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now

honestly all of these places sound wonderful

i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste

any one in particular you like?

you choose

since you’re planning it after all 

lol

i really don’t want you having to travel that far

i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far

and you’re literally coming from jersey

i’ll be fine with any choice you make

seriously 

He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times. 

(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently. 

She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.

As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that. 

What does he want from her?)

*****

She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking. 

She doesn’t need to be shaking today. 

Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom. 

It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender. 

good morning! see you soon

She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous. 

She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy. 

Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area. 

She checks the time. On time. 

She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction. 

He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.

“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes. 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”

“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”

“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan. 

He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense. 

As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember. 

She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced. 

She’s having a really good time. 

She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief. 

Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her. 

They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”) 

They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.

And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.

(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)

But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out. 

Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.

When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that. 

What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.

She just doesn’t know. 

(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful. 

He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her. 

He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)

*****

Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that. 

(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)

On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Jack.”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”

“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”

“I’m sure it was,” she hums. 

“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”

“Almost a month.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”

“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly. 

She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”

“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you free?”

He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”

“Wanna do tomorrow?”

“You around?”

She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”

He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”

“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”

“This again?”

She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?

“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps. 

“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”

“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything you like.”

“Jack.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”

“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations. 

She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to. 

She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories. 

(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).

Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely. 

No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better. 

Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.

When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead. 

Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink. 

She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)

*****

Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.

He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”) 

It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him. 

(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.

She trusts him already)

When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed. 

And he did. 

Huh.

*****  

The next night, she’s nervous. 

Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.

When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans. 

He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair. 

“Hey.” She says softly. 

“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in. 

He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road. 

She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”

She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”

He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”

She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”

“Wanna get some right now?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”

“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.” 

“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”

“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”

She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”

“Really?”

He shrugs.

She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”

“You’re an introvert, then.”

“Is that surprising?”

He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”

She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”

“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”

“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”

He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next. 

(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)

He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name. 

(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)

They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view. 

He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is. 

She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out. 

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” 

Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?” 

He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.” 

She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.” 

He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could

sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.” 

“What makes you think I want casual?” 

She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.” 

“You think I’m hot?” 

Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”

He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.” 

“You can’t? Why not?” 

“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“All in?” 

“All in.”

“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it. 

“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”

“You’re too good for me.”

She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her Minnesota crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.  

She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.

He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”

Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”

She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”

“If I rejected you?” 

“Yes.”

“In what world would I have rejected you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”

She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now. 

(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.

Unstoppable)

(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted. 

He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)

[curatedcurios1ty]

(18+, fingering. reader has a pussy)

It had been a long week, and honestly, it had been even longer since you’ve masturbated.

It’s not that you dislike devildom or anything..it’s just a little frustrating not having any time to really take care of yourself.

So when the perfect night rolls around, with most brothers out of the house (lucifer meeting with diavolo, mammon doing god knows what, asmo clubbing, levi at a convention with beel tagging along, and satan at book club). You take full advantage.

And so, that’s how your night begins, you’re under your blanket with your knees up, underwear hanging off of one ankle, your hand makes its way between your legs and you sigh, finally.

And yeah maybe you’re kinda excited to be able to cum, too excited in fact. To the point where you almost (almost) miss the click of your door opening.

Dammit!

God Dammit. That’s it, you decide, the entire universe must be against you. Shouldn’t he be sleeping? Fuck! You drop your knees back down onto the bed. Belphegor makes his way over to the bed, he’s just about to get under your covers when you reach out a hand to stop him.

“Hold on, not tonight.” Thankfully he pauses, fist wrapped around the blanket.

“Why not?” His voice is soft, he’s almost pouting.

“It’s just…because, i’m busy right now.” You don’t have the heart to tell him what you were actually doing. Yet, after a moment of silence he’s already pressing forward again.

His expression shifts into something quizzical, like he’s trying to figure something out. You see him sniff the air around you and look back at you.

“You’re turned on. Were you masturbating?”

God fucking dammit. This is embarrassing. Is it a demon thing? You knew Asmodeus could sense lust, but can Belphie really smell your arousal? Well if he knows, he should be giving you space now. You hope.

“Uh, yeah actually,” That was still mortifying to admit, your body feels hot in more ways than one. “That was my plan for tonight, so maybe you should nap someplace else?” Even after all of this you still want to cum.

Instead of listening to you, Belphie fully slides under the covers. His eyes hold this intensity you’ve never seen before, and it’s all directed towards you.

“Let me help you, turn around.” He sounds more serious than you’ve ever heard. You don’t know what compels you to but you obey, turning so he’s pressed up against your back.

He wedges his head into the crook of your neck and inhales. “Let me take care of you.”

One of his hands traces along your side until it reaches the swell of your ass. He gives it a light squeeze before gripping your cheek and using it to push it to the side, giving him access to your pussy.

He uses his fingers to spread your pussy open, and fuck, you’re glad he can’t see how soaked you are..it’s just been so long.

As soon as that thought passes through you, feel his other hand reach under you. He drags his middle finger over your throbbing clit down to your sopping, wet hole before pulling back completely. You can’t help but moan, his touch is delicate yet deliberate. You want more.

You’re about to ask him why he stopped when his hand comes out from under the covers and into view. He holds it out in front of the two of you.

“Wow, you’re really wet, huh?” You can’t help but to be in awe as well. The digit is shining in slick juices, only made worse when he spreads it over to his pointer finger with his thumb.

“Belphie, keep going,” You don’t think you can take this teasing, not when he’s still holding you open. “please.”

“Okay.” The fingers disappear from view, a moment later you feel them on your clit rubbing in small circles. You move to grind on them but the hand on your ass holds you in place.

This continues for a while, you’re getting more turned on by the second. It’s good, but you need more.

“Put a finger inside.” You expect the ones on your clit to fulfill that task, but instead he stops holding you open to wriggle his other middle finger inside you. Fuck, it’s almost too much it’s-

“So good.”

He’s mouthing along your neck as he stretches you with his finger. He’s slow with it, but it feels like you’re on fire. Soon, you feel him slip out completely and trace over your hole with two fingers.

“Can I add another?” You nod, not sure if your voice would come out whole. Slowly, his fingers push in, and you gasp. He reaches so much deeper than you could on your own.

Slow thrust turn into slight stretching, which then turns into him curling his fingers. Hitting that gummy spot that makes your mind go blank.

“Do you think you could come, just like this?” His breath is hot against your neck, hell, everything is hot right now.

“Yeah, I could. Keep going, please.” And you mean it. Fuck, your orgasm is so close you can taste it. Like he can read your mind, his hands speed up. You’re moaning louder than before. And just like that something snaps.

You feel yourself clench around his fingers during your orgasm. Your sure belphie can feel it too, from the breathless way he says your name as his hands slow back down.

You’re still blinking hard from the aftershock when he finally pulls away. You turn your body to see him wipe his fingers on the corner of the blanket. Too out of it to say anything, you try to remember to wash it later.

He turns back to you and looks you in the eyes. Even if his face is flushed you can tell that he’s utterly exhausted. Your point is proven by how he cuddles up to you and completely deflates.

“Can we sleep now?” Any reply you would have giving would be useless. His eyes closed, and breathing already slowing down. You decide that you could save a real conversation for later.

For now you’ll just lie down with him.

[dayas]

MORE OF THIS PLEASEE ITS SO GOOD TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS IN THE WOODS 😭 https://www.tumblr.com/dayas/768628769117372416/8-elphaba-fiyero

Well anon, fortunately I’ve been thinking about this since last night 😵‍💫 let’s go 😁

—

The day drags on. Fiyero checks the clock every five minutes. He can’t help it — how is he meant to focus when all of his thoughts are arranging themselves into the shape of an extraordinary green girl? He huffs out an exhale to try and calm down. The fact that he’s thinking at all is abhorrent. Still, it’s only a few more hours. Those hours clip themselves down, shortening to mere halves. Halves turn to quarters, and quarters into minutes.

Then, at long last, it’s time. Fiyero races from his room, already having stripped off his coat, leaving him only in a light blue shirt, cream pants, and black boots. The path to the forest is well worn and familiar by now; it’s become a safe haven for him, the only place at Shiz he feels he can truly breathe. He hears her arrival before he sees her. She finds him pacing.

“You came.” His words are relieved, even if he doesn’t move from where he stands. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I wasn’t sure I would either.”

Her words are barely audible. He wants to go to her, he does, but for the first time in his entire life, Fiyero is worried he might scare someone off. He’d nearly done it before, in the library. He can’t risk it now. So he waits for her.

“Why did you ask me here, Fiyero?” Elphaba says at last, approaching him. His entire body feels as though it’s been doused and lit on fire. With each step she takes, everything grows hotter and hotter.

“You already know the answer to that.”

It’s obvious by now, it has to be. She still doesn’t have to believe him, but he will keep showing her until it sets in. He cannot resist asking her a question.

“Why did you come?”

She’s so close now, as she was before, her chest lightly pressed against him. Half a smile makes its way to her face.

“You already know the answer to that.”

He does. It’s not enough.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Fiyero.”

“Tell me, Elphaba. Why did you come to the woods?”

She’s trembling, he notices, and on instinct, he draws her into his arms. Her whisper coincides with his actions.

“Because I wanted to see you.”

He has to kiss her now, he thinks (that infernal thinking again), because she can’t tell him that and expect him not to act upon hearing it. He moves slowly, so she can see him, bringing his hands up to cup her face gently.

“Can I kiss you?”

His question is soft, spoken into the infinitesimal space between their lips. Her gasp is equally soft, and he tamps down on the urge to swallow it. He feels her nod, her nose skimming his.

“Elphaba. You need to tell me.”

He doesn’t want to risk her permission being a fluke, a figment of his own imagination.

“Kiss me, Fiyero.”

He is more than happy to honor her wish. The kiss is soft, perfectly sweet, short too, because he doesn’t know what she’s comfortable with. It is both shocking and delightful to find her pulling him back to her, kissing him more deeply. Her hand roots itself in his hair and he tugs on her bottom lip in return. He pulls away again, only to shower her neck in kisses and revel in the sound of his name falling from her lips over and over again. Eventually, she pulls his head up, and he’s in the middle of chasing her lips for the umpteenth time when she murmurs, “Wait.” He pauses immediately, searching her eyes with concern.

“I haven’t… I haven’t done this before. Anything like this.”

He can’t say he’s surprised, but he’s incredibly glad she’s chosen him for such an important first experience.

“You’re doing very well for someone entirely new to this.” He kisses her again quickly, beaming when she laughs.

“Be serious.”

“I am! It’s not my fault you’re a natural, Miss Thropp.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She kisses him this time. In turn, he mumbles against her lips, “You’re incredible.”

He is perfectly content losing himself in her for a few more minutes (a small, cursed part of his brain thinks again: for a lifetime, even, he wouldn’t mind being lost for the rest of his life in her). It’s probably for the best that she pulls back, resting her forehead against his. They catch their breath together, the sounds of the forest mixing in with their ragged breathing. He wants to continue, to kiss her senseless, to make her forget everything except for him. But he refuses to ruin this. She deserves better than that.

“What is it?” Elphaba hums, drawing him back to the present. Fiyero’s head shakes, once.

“Nothing important.” Her eyebrows furrow gently.

“I promise,” he adds, kissing the little wrinkle that appears on her forehead.

They remain close together, eventually making their way to the forest floor. She sits in between his legs, leaning back against his chest while his arms are wrapped around her. They talk about everything: colors, masks, their studies, what they feel for each other. And even if he worries she’ll change her mind, that she might regret this when the sun rises in the morning, it only takes the press of her lips against his cheek or neck to return him to the present moment.

Fiyero does not know what the coming day will bring.

But he swears he can face it, as long as he’s hers.

[just-a-strange-boy]

a wicked tongue

part two

part one here

masterlist

Two frustrating nights in a row leave you restless. Stephen finds himself concerned - and poses a kind offer. He seems all too eager to pay you a friendly favor.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (GN)

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), more questionable sexual proposals, friends with benefits (kind of), caught masturbating, oral sex (reader receiving), face sitting

A/N: one good turn deserves another ;) and I promised you a sequel, so there it is! thanks for all the love you left on a helping hand. I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible, but it was very hard to not get specific with this kind of sexual interaction. I suppose you could say it's a little more afab-coded, but I still hope you'll enjoy!

The world was kind of funny.

Two days ago you had decided to help your sister's friend get off after sort of stumbling upon him in a very private moment, failing to pleasure himself, and finding yourself to just be the right person for the task.

Now, after two frustrating nights in a row of trying, you were suddenly the one incapable of getting all the way to the edge on your own. You didn't know what the matter was, why it suddenly wouldn't just...work.

Perhaps it was the fact that you were staying at someone else's place that made you unable to orgasm in peace. Not even the shower would do, though the perfect place for masturbation as the door locked and the spray would conceal any noises you did not want Stephen to hear.

But your body simply wasn't able to relax, even though that had never been one of your concerns before.

Maybe you were just tired of only ever feeling your fingers – you had to admit it had been a long while since having someone else and you rarely used the opportunity of involving a sex toy.

It wasn't that you weren't horny enough, because heaven's sake you absolutely were. That's why it was so damn frustrating. The urge to get there was strong and arousal sparked almost violently, especially when you thought about Stephen. You needed release and just couldn't find it.

Maybe it was a Stephen problem.

The man had been riddling your thoughts ever since your little encounter in his bedroom – and you found yourself replaying how beautiful he had sounded, remembering the expressions on his face flicking from frustration to pleasure to bliss and relief, how incredibly hot it had been to have him (quite literally) in your hand and bring him to a mindblowing orgasm. But even that fantasy wasn't enough to do it for you and you frankly felt bad for using Stephen as means to get off.

Shame on you. Of course, you still thought about him. Whenever you thought you got there though, you failed to cum anyways.

It left you restless and frustrated, even though it had only been a few days without release, and that's exactly why you ended up sitting at the kitchen aisle in the middle of the night, deciding to start working on the next project because you imagined it at least might distract you enough from your own dissatisfaction.

So you had thought.

But once you had opened the program, you immediately realized that neither inspiration nor motivation would grace you tonight, so you kept typing and tapping away randomly, hoping some creative spark would finally strike and keep your mind busy.

Minutes and then an hour and then two hours went by. Nothing.

About 1am, you were surprised to find Stephen joining you in the kitchen, staggering in from the dark corridor – he acknowledged you with a curt nod, though his gaze seemed to linger on you a while longer, before he quietly walked towards the kitchen counter, apparently meaning to get himself a drink, just some water.

Because you greeted every distraction you could get at the moment, you decided to watch him bustle around instead of trying to focus on work. And what a perfect distraction he was, looking entirely adorable, his hair a little mussed and rumpled with sleep, careful with every single one of his steps, clumsily trying to open the cap of the water bottle, grumbling - probably about the fact his hands were absolutely pissing him off.

He had not paid your presence any more mind up until that point, but eventually gave up on the bottle cap, walked towards you and handed you the bottle with a pleading (albeit very tired) look. Stephen didn't speak his request out loud, but he didn't really need to – usually you liked having him ask and say 'Please' because it annoyed him to go the extra mile of niceties, though once in a while you had mercy.

You opened it for him in the blink of an eye and carefully returned it to his hands.

“Thanks”, he muttered. For a moment you thought, he might just have a sip and leave again. But then you noticed that he drank while staying real close by your seat and tried to catch a glimpse of what you were working on – it wasn't much, just a few scribbles on the screen, but still seemed to make him curious.

"That looks... not like something I'd expect from an actual graphic designer", he worded politely, though his cockiness seeped through, regardless of his exhausted state, “Let me guess. Couldn't get any sleep?”

"Nope, my body decided to betray me and I couldn't fall asleep. Now I'm just... here, doing work, because I might as well be productive", you sighed, obviously not planning to tell him about your frustration with another kind of handiwork, “But you can see how well that's going. It looks pathetic.”

"Is the couch getting too uncomfortable perhaps?", Stephen wondered. You almost snorted. It was definitely not the couch bothering you. “And by the way that looks, I doubt you'll get any further with your creativity tonight.”

"Yeah well, just a couple more days of suffering and Christine will be back and then I can finally go home to my own bed, while you can get on her nerves instead", you therefore replied, paying him a tired smile in response, trying to match his teasing nature, “Or she on yours. Probably both.”

"Already tired of playing caretaker?", Stephen joked, placed one of his bandaged hands on your shoulder and squeezed it gently, “And here I thought you liked me.”

"Don't blame me for thinking you are a horrible patient", you rolled your eyes at him, "Are you gonna bother me much longer or may I go back to work?"

"Actually, let me be the reasonable one for once. I have an idea", Stephen contemplated and by the way his tone suddenly shifted, you were almost expecting it to be a very suggestive one.

"How about you stop working and come join me in bed? You need some rest too, considering you'll have to deal with me for a few more days. There's space enough for the two of us, it's much more comfortable than the couch and maybe the presence of another human being will allow you and me both to finally get some sleep. I call that a win-win.”

You tried real hard to keep a neutral look on your face, not giving away that you were somewhat entertained by the suggestion, but also slightly confused.

Had you expected this coming from Stephen? No, certainly not. You didn't mind, but were still conflicted, because you couldn't tell whether it was actually meant to be so suggestive or just an innocent offer. Maybe he was really just trying to accommodate you in order for you to have a good rest, since he was the one getting on your nerves so very often.

Though it did sound like he wanted you near too, as if it would also help him to get some better sleep as well.

Stephen looked worried when you didn't answer immediately, like he feared he had made you uncomfortable. In truth he had simply rendered you speechless.

You caught yourself somewhere amidst the awkward silence between you. Instead of giving him an answer he was most certainly dreading, you let your actions speak, closing all of your programs and shutting off your laptop.

It was a silent agreement, but he sure understood.

It wouldn't do any harm, would it? Sleeping next to Stephen might be nice, just to have the comfort and warmth of another person might be enough to actually lull you to sleep, and it wasn't like this was crossing any more boundaries along the lines of friendship, considering you had jerked him off two days ago without a second thought.

Sharing a bed was nothing worth mentioning in contrast.

Your only concern was your current sexual frustration, something that might be intensified by the presence of a very attractive man and the proximity you'd get to enjoy while sleeping in the same bed – you would definitely not try to masturbate next to Stephen and if you were lucky enough, then maybe sleeping next to him would end up being just as relaxing as a possible orgasm.

Well, apparently you were going to find out.

As soon as you got settled into bed next to Stephen, sheets and pillows smelling delightfully fresh, of course a little like him, you let yourself be embraced by the warmth of the blanket immediately, sinking into the soft mattress. Heavenly. Definitely better than the couch, though the choice of furniture had certainly not been the underlying issue anyways.

Laying in a comfortable bed, suddenly feeling the dead tired weight of your limbs and your eyes dropping as well, you stopped worrying altogether.

There was not even a whim of discomfort in this moment, even though you hadn't shared a bed with anyone for months. Especially sharing it with Stephen, you had expected to find it perhaps odd, but now that you lay there – it was just fine. The exhaustion did its part.

You bid good night to one another and it took you mere minutes after closing your eyes until you were drifting off...

•

You could have sworn you had fallen asleep laying on your back, with an appropriate amount of distance between two people considered friends, but in your process of awakening you quickly noticed something was a little off.

Apparently you had rolled over onto your side at some point during the night, which wasn't that seldom. It was just a lot more comfortable than sleeping on your back. But that wasn't all.

You also undeniably found yourself in a warm embrace that wasn't just a blanket on top of you but an arm draped over your form and a warm body pressing up to your backside.

Oh lord.

Getting spooned in the morning had sure not been on your list for the day (or at all, as of lately), but you didn't bother to complain or even make the slightest attempt of moving away, no matter how much the initial realization startled you. Having Stephen near was kinda nice, more than you could have imagined.

It didn't feel wrong.

As this was probably the only cuddle you were going to get for a long while, you might as well enjoy it. It made you wonder though. He had likely just embraced you by accident, subconciously snuggling up to the one thing in his bed, but you wondered what his reaction might be like if he woke and noticed what was going on.

Would he be startled or entirely unfazed? Had it perhaps not been a subconcious decision at all? What if he had done this on purpose? What if he had wanted to hold you, feel another body close to his? Maybe that had been the reason for his invitation in the first place. But right now you couldn't find yourself to care too much about any ulterior motives and just let it happen.

Focusing on the sensations around and within you, you came to a few more realizations.

Stephen was a furnace, his presence alone incredibly warm. There was something comforting about his embrace, it was a protective but gentle hold, and you could probably get used to being cuddled in the morning by someone like him.

However, and worst of all – it was enough to turn you on instantly, to have his warm body pressed up to yours, the way he had claimed you all for himself, how right it felt.

You wanted to damn yourself for agreeing to his offer in the first place as it brought you into such a precarious position right now, but then again... you wouldn't want to risk missing the experience, would you? Besides that, it would never happen another time and you should enjoy it while it lasted – though if you both consented, perhaps it might not be the last time for you after all.

You greeted that idea. But this certainly crossed a boundary, a different one than having jerked him off. Allowing Stephen a sexual favor, for this one time, had been a friendly deed. You had wanted to make him feel better, because you cared for him, and you had accomplished just that.

But now, with his arm around you and you wishing to be able to experience this more often, you became uncomfortably aware that maybe being just friends would not be enough for you.

Because you wanted more. So much more. Especially right now.

It didn't help that Stephen was shifting behind you, drawing his arm around you tighter, pressing up to your back, his warm breath tickling your nape, obviously still fast asleep...

Your heart hammered in your chest, a familiar lust rushing to your loins, and you squirmed in interest, cautious to not press back into him in order to not accidentally wake him up. Because if you did and he became aware of what was going on, he would likely pull back and then this perfect moment would be over.

Or maybe not. But could you risk that?

If you surrendered to your own desire here, you might never be able to look Stephen in the eye ever again. Jerking him off had been a well-meant favor. Masturbating next to him would entirely be for your own gain and just wrong. But the temptation of doing something forbidden, the thought of maybe being discovered by Stephen... undeniably did something to you.

It wasn't like he had to know. For as long as he wouldn't wake, you'd be safe. It's not like you would use him for your own pleasure – no, he was just there and his presence was more than enough to feed your arousal. The rest, you could do yourself.

A little drowsy from sleep, you slid your hand down the pajama pants, over your underwear and eventually finding your evident excitement, letting fingers rub over yourself through the material. Seemed like this part of you was responding quite eagerly too.

God, with only noticing how touch-starved Stephen had been, you apparently had forgotten how starved for attention and desperate you were.

Alas, if you started touching yourself now, it would be twice as awkward for the man behind you to wake up and find you like that, but being so aroused, being so embraced too, you allowed to just let this take its toll.

Slightly ashamed, your cheeks burning with heat, breathing faster, you slipped your fingers under the remaining layer of clothing, brushing over your naked arousal, allowing yourself just a tiny bit of pleasure.

Going on like this, maybe for a handful of minutes, your fingers busy working between your thighs, trailing the spots that made you feel just right, trying hard to not shift or push back against Stephen, to not make too much noise, to not moan at how utterly excited you were and how your own touch might just be enough to finally get you to the edge, you nearly found yourself forgetting about being in a presence of another person.

Unsurprisingly so, it scared the shit out of you when Stephen suddenly stirred and moved, gently placing his bandaged hand on your forearm, a very definite sign that he was awake.

Oh no.

You stopped the movements immediately and by god, another hole in the ground opening up and swallowing you whole would have been great now. Your face must have literally been flaring red in your current state of embarrassment, burning with heat, and your entire body tensed. Rather awkwardly, you tried to remain as still as you could, pretending that you had not just touched yourself.

But he wasn't a fool, obviously. You sure were, hoping this would go unnoticed. What in heaven's name had you been thinking? And what was going to happen now?

Was he urging you to stop, but wouldn't mention it to you, letting the weight of silence consume the moment and ruin your arousal? Maybe he'd just let the moment pass and you could continue on to be friendly with each other, without ever demanding to talk about this? You'd greet that.

But could there be any chance he might just be okay with this? What if he'd be disgusted, resentful or would ridicule and tease you about this forever on?

You wished for the whole world to come crashing down just about now and spare you the embarrassment...

But then he spoke up, with the low rumble of his voice, warm breath brushing against the back of your neck, something that didn't help your arousal at all. "You know, you could have just told me that you're also desperate and need some relief. I wouldn't have judged."

"M'sorry", you sighed, pulling your hand out of your pants in utmost shame, Stephen's closeness and his careful touch on your arm burning into your skin, "I know I shouldn't have... but... I've just been struggling with getting off... and... I guess being held by you... just kinda did it for me. Not to say that you turn me on, I just... god, this is ridiculous."

"Oh come on, is it really so ridiculous?”, Stephen hummed, sounding very amused about this situation as a whole, "You jerked me off, remind you not that long ago, and this... is actually kind of hot. Having an adorable little minx like you in my bed trying to get off, too afraid to admit that they're turned on, too shy to ask for assistance. Sounds like a dream to me."

"More like a nightmare, being caught in the act", you turned your head to smush it further into the pillow. Why were you even having such a casual conversation right now? You, in this odd state between complete embarrassment and relentless arousal, and Stephen, having woken up to this, seemingly unfazed.

You should have just rolled out of bed and left the situation, hoping that Stephen would never mention it again and spare you any further shame.

Perhaps it was only fair – you had accidentally witnessed Stephen trying to masturbate and now he had discovered you. You were in an odd way even. Not that it made this any better.

"Do you want any help with that? I owe you something, don't I?", he asked, instead of letting it rest though, his voice still gravelly and low from sleep, his hand brushing over your arm in a comforting motion. Speaking of being suggestive...

"Fuck all the way off. You don't owe me anything", you replied, of course. You didn't want Stephen to feel like he had to offer you anything in return for the favor you had so willingly given, even though you obviously didn't actually mind the idea of it. Damn it.

He wasn't the type of person to be entirely selfless, so with offering something like this... maybe he wasn't opposed to the idea of being in more sexual situations with you and you didn't really know what to think about this.

Though you might not want to go as far as having sex with the man already (if ever) and while his hands might be a bit of an issue, you had no doubts it would be worth it, whatever he had in mind.

God, if Christine ever found out about this... she'd probably make fun of both of you, thinking you were absolutely ridiculous - which you no doubt were, dancing around each other and clutching onto the boundaries of a normal friendship, when you could perhaps be so much more if you were just bold and brave enough.

"Would it make this situation better if I wanted to help you?", Stephen admitted to you, sounding unsure, "I wasn't lying when I said I think it's hot."

"And we won't talk to anyone about this?", you asked.

"Not a word. Promise", Stephen confirmed, pressing up to your body from behind, his breath still ghosting over your neck, sending a whole different kind of shiver through you when his lips softly brushed your nape, "I'm just afraid my fingers currently won't be good enough to please you. But I have an idea."

"And if I may ask, what kind of idea might that be?" Curiosity killed the cat after all. You were still so horny you might have accepted any offer of pleasure, even though unsure whether it was wise, but you were looking forward to pick a piece of his mind, to find out what filthy thoughts he might harvest. He seemed so willing to do this, for whatever reason – and you yourself began wondering if all of this was just a dream, made up by your subconscious desires.

"You'll figure it out. Turn over", Stephen spoke and eased his embrace – and so you did, rolling onto your other side, facing him, who was watching you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a rather soft sleepy smile. You couldn't possibly tell what was crossing his thoughts and looked at each other for a quiet moment, since you didn't know what to expect or how to act next.

“If we're going to do this my way, you need to strip. At least get out of your pants”, was the subtle order that followed up – and so you did, even though followed by a little awkwardness, deciding to shuffle out of your pajama pants and underwear, still hidden from his gaze by the blanket resting over you. It didn't save you from feeling slightly self-conscious, a thousand thoughts running through your head.

What was he planning? What was he going to suggest next? Why was he doing this for you? Would you like it? And what would that mean for your friendship?

"Don't be shy. Come get on top of me", Stephen announced the third step and leisurely turned onto his back, appearing oddly expectant. You faltered, eyes widening at his suggestion. He wasn't expecting you to... he wasn't asking for sexual intercourse, was he?

Noticing your second guessing, his gaze softened and he smiled at you, assuredly. “You can trust me. If you don't like it, we can stop any time. But I'm thinking you might just enjoy it.”

“I just...”, you began. Your curiosity was catching up on you. You would have liked to find out.

“Come on up. I'll be nice”, Stephen's smile turned into that self-satisfied grin you knew him for and whatever it was that had you convinced in the end, you decided to surrender yourself. He had given into you mere days ago and so easily, putting so much trust in you, convinced you were meaning well – and in return, you'd allow him the same trust.

So you did as he suggested, slowly pushing back the blankets to awkwardly scramble onto Stephen's lap, finding your usual confidence whisked away, oddly exposed. The man's gaze was raking over your body and for a moment you quietly watched him in the soft morning light, his smug face, pupils dilating with desire as he consumed the sight of you.

What now, you asked yourself, bracing your palms against his stomach, feeling his warmth, the subtle movement of his breathing, perched on firm thighs. Was he waiting for you to make the next move? You had no doubt that if you grinded down on him, it would feel good. Perhaps you'd even get him to harden as well, adding to his pleasure as much as to your own.

But something told you it wasn't quite what he had in mind – he was meaning to give you a favor.

"Good. Place your hands on the headboard instead", he instructed you next, waiting for you to do just that, "And now you come further up here."

You swallowed hard as you stared back down at him and the clear indication he had just made. "Do you mean I should...? Like... on your... face?"

A sharp and quick "Yes" was the only respond you got. So that's what was he had planned.

Stephen was apparently very pleased with his idea and before you had a chance to second-guess, he snuck his arms around your waist, pulling you forward instantly, urging you to shuffle up until your knees were resting on the pillow, close to his head, and you were literally hovering over him, holding yourself up on the headboard.

You suddenly didn't dare to look at him and closed your eyes instead, contemplating just how unreal this situation was. Kneeling over him, you could feel Stephen's warm breath on your most private parts, his head between your thighs, and honestly, even that alone seemed too crazy to be true.

But this was really happening, wasn't it?

Only a broken moan escaped you when you suddenly felt Stephen's mouth on you, hot and welcoming, gently teasing, carefully sucking on your sensitive swollen sex, tongue lazily testing and probing all of you, to the point all your insecurities and doubts were whisked away.

"Fucking... fuck", you shuddered, clinging a little tighter onto the headboard immediately, careful not to crush the man under your own weight, but god... his mouth felt so good on you and Stephen was unashamed to taste every bit, exploring you, sometimes with the flat of his tongue, sometimes only giving you little flicks, paying more attention to those spots he had quickly figured how much you liked and humming in delight whenever he drew a reaction out of you.

You had known Stephen had a wicked tongue, judging by his snarky comments most of the time, but only now were you truly figuring out how skilled it was as well. He was downright devouring you, slow strokes of his flat tongue up and down, his mouth tasting you seemingly everywhere, sucking and licking and kissing, his tongue easing its way along every dip and curve, not leaving a single part of your arousal unattended.

Apparently he was trying to drive you mad too – just the right level of intensity, switching things up to keep you on edge, pausing, so you could only feel his breath ghosting over you, and you had to admit that you kinda deserved this torturous sweetness after having being cruel to Stephen himself last time. But god, how thorough and driven he was, all this to make you feel good.

At this point, it seemed a lot like the man wasn't too concerned with being smothered by you at all, hungrily pulling you further towards his own face, tasting you, lapping on you like a starving man, his heavy breath and scruffy beard tickling you. Nothing seemed to dampen his enthusiasm.

You couldn't remembered ever having someone as eager as him between your legs before and sank your head against the wall, unable to stop moaning, giving yourself over to the purest pleasure sparking within, Stephen's sinful mouth taking care of you like no one else ever had.

A whine left your lips just as Stephen's mouth parted from you, continuing to spread soft kisses and playful little bites on you inner thighs – as much as he could reach of them anyways – and you were so close to just grab him by the hair and lead him back to your aching arousal, if it meant he would continue to lick you.

It was just as intense when he returned to taste you with his tongue again.

Stephen didn't hold you back from grinding against his face either and you rolled your hips in time for the greedy laps of his tongue, chasing your orgasm just like this.

And when you came, gods, did you come hard.

It was seriously unreal, your entire body was suddenly trembling hard, you could feel the heavy jitters of your thighs taking over all of your body, moaning and panting, your brain was literally on fire, pleasure surging like electricity through your veins - and if that wasn't the literal definition of a mind-blowing orgasm, you didn't know what was.

You couldn't believe your own luck. A heavy weight was lifted off your chest, you felt carefree and light, floating in nothingness for a moment, mind entirely blank.

You must have carried a quite loopy smile, looking down at Stephen, having pulled back enough to let him breathe, not wanting to smother him altogether - because it would honestly have been a shame to get rid of him now.

But Stephen took it like a champ, entirely unfazed, just smiled back at you, hair still tousled from sleep, cheeks reddened, lips swollen red, mouth and chin glistening with saliva and slick of your arousal, a filthy reminder of what had just happened.

He looked damn pleased with himself and admittedly so, you were more than pleased with him as well.

Too weak in the knees to gracefully get off Stephen, you nearly tumbled backwards on top of him, almost crushing him with your awkward shuffling around. Your head was still a little too scrambled to word your satisfaction, but you were sure Stephen understood you quite well, even without words.

He seemed smug. Amused. There was this glimmer in his eyes as he watched you climbing off his body. You felt the urge to simply whack him with a pillow for his grin alone, but reconsidered.

Let him have a little joy. A little satisfaction. He seemed at ease and you loved to see it.

Coming to lay beside Stephen again, utterly tired and probably ready for another hour of sleep now that he had knocked this orgasm out of you, you found your own kind of enjoyment. Almost a sweet moment, if one ignored the fact you had just sat on his face mere minutes ago, and one you were willing to make the most of, for as long as it would last.

Instead of simply fleeing the scene like last time, you closed the distance to cuddle up to him, placing your head on his chest and a hand to his stomach, happy with the fact that the man accepted your affections and went on to hold you in his embrace. He seemed content and as you shut your eyes, fully welcoming his comforting warmth to lull you back to sleep, you swore you could feel him press a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

For now, it was more than enough. But who knew where this little encounter would eventually take the two of you?