#which I honestly don’t mind because i feel it could get boring?

[iolite-flames]

PROMPT 7!!! ONE WEEK OF GORETOBERS OFFICIALLY COMPLETED FOR THE BOOKS!!! Really dig the lighting in this one ❤️

The prompt is Sliced!

[purple-plum-petals]

⊱ What It’s Like Cuddling with Him ⊰ || Mr. Gap Headcanons

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Character(s): Mr. Gap (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): None! Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~590 words. Request: “Please I've been dying for content 😔 can I get uhhhh mr.gap content plz ?? I can't stop thinking about him popping up between ur blankets on you. Love ur homicipher stuff so far btw 🩷” Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the kind words! I’ve been enjoying writing for the fandom, too. Everyone has been so incredibly supportive, and that just means the world to me as a writer who never thinks their work is good enough. I love you, Homicipher fandom. 😭🫶 I went ahead and did headcanons about how Mr. Gap would be as a cuddle buddy since you mentioned the scene of him popping up between the blankets (and because they’re a lot easier to crank out than full-on drabbles haha). I hope you enjoy!  

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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🕳️: The first time Mr. Gap surprised you by suddenly appearing under the covers, you nearly died of a heart attack right then in there before scolding him to never do that again. He simply rolled his eyes at you, calling you boring before disappearing into the void once again. He never did stop like you had asked him to which, honestly, wasn’t surprising in the slightest. Eventually, you got used to his sudden presence to the point where it didn’t startle you as horribly as it used to (much to his disappointment). 

🕳️: Even if you don’t get startled by his appearance as often as you used to, that doesn’t mean you never get scared when he suddenly pops up. He enjoys spooking you, smiling widely whenever you gasp or let out a shriek when he lunges at your face from under the sheets like an alligator shooting out of the water to grab unsuspecting prey in its maws. He leaves with a chuckle if you smack or try to hit him, vanishing before you can do any damage. Your reactions are funny to him, and he enjoys being able to get a rise out of you. 

🕳️: You eventually become fed up with him and ask him with a huff if he wants to cuddle after lifting your covers and seeing his face in the darkness underneath, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. He grimaces and asks you what that even means, not familiar with the term. After explaining it to him as best as you could considering the language barrier, his semi-disgusted expression doesn’t change, and he leaves faster than it took you to blink. This continues for a while, you ask him with a smirk if he wants to cuddle with you which successfully manages to chase the trickster away (you just have to threaten him with physical affection... good information to know).

🕳️: However, one day, Mr. Gap doesn’t leave after your half-hearted threat. He stays and stares up at you with a blank look on his face before, to your shock, agrees to cuddle with you. It’s strange laying in bed with a ghost that doesn’t have a body in the conventional sense, his head resting on your chest while his arms rest limply at your sides (he usually doesn’t hold you back, instead laying on you like a dead fish). While you can feel the presence of a form on top of you, whenever you try to catch a glimpse, you cannot see anything resembling a body underneath the covers. It’s not an unpleasant feeling, though, and he reminds you of a weighted blanket. 

🕳️: Mr. Gap doesn’t move or make much noise whenever you two are cuddling, an occurrence that has become more frequent as time goes on. He isn’t the biggest fan of physical touch, but he finds himself not minding the way your hands feel threading through his hair or the sound of your beating heart while his ear is pressed against your chest. The noise is strangely comforting... 

🕳️: If you inquire about his lack of commentary, he looks up at you and smirks, asking if you would give him your heart. You just tell him no with a smile since you were used to his questions at this point and close your eyes, your hands returning to combing out in knots in his black locks without another word… He kind of hates how he doesn’t find himself disgusted by your touch, and he can’t help but wonder why that is. 

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (11)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: after a lil bit of a break, chem ov has returned! More of the drama, the yearning, and the tension is served here, for your pleasure <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Following the reader's unfortunate accident, tensions run high between the two men vying for her heart. The cast get together to celebrate Ewan's birthday, and things go exactly as you would expect. And then some.

Ewan has never been the most active in the cast group chat. It does amuse him some, especially when Tom and Rhys get into those selfie battles of theirs, when all throughout the day, the chat would be flooded with deliberately posed pictures of the two pulling the most ridiculous faces in increasingly absurd locations.

It's a place for playful jabs, catching up, sharing updates. Light banter all around.

Which is why Ewan's heart nearly jumped out of his chest when the latest message came. He had been on location in LA, running through the script for his film when he received the notification. He’d ignored it at first, never one to reply promptly anyway. But a flicker of instinct – or maybe he felt it, felt you – made him check. 

Phia informed the group that you had an accident.

“... and it was during stunt training, but she’s fine and is in the hospital now…”

Everyone was encouraged to visit if they could or send their well wishes. 

Ewan’s mind reeled. Fine? What the hell does that mean? Fine could be a scratch or it could be… Fuck.

He read the message over and over until they blurred together. He knew he was willing the words to change like some idiot. You had to be okay. Nothing bad could happen to you.

Phia had just casually dropped the bombshell. She might as well have said, “Hey, how is everyone, good? Oh, by the way, she almost died but it’s cool.”

Ewan knew none of it was Phia’s fault, but that didn’t stop him from feeling an overwhelming irritation. What did ‘fine’ even mean? If he threw his phone across the room like he wanted, would that be fine?

He felt nauseous with worry as he dialled whoever he could – anyone who might give him more than just that damn word. Time went by torturously slowly, the only thing repeating in his head was the image of you – broken, unconscious, or worse – until Phia finally confirmed that it wasn’t life-threatening. 

He had to calm down, according to her. You are being taken care of, and are set to make a swift recovery.

But even then, it wasn’t enough.

Because it was you.

“Love… you’re awake.”

Sitting beside your hospital bed, Ewan gets a good look at you – finally awake but still too fragile for his liking. He hadn’t slept properly, and he feels like a whole mess. 

You blink slowly, your eyes meeting his. “Ewan?”

He feels like breathing again after being underwater for far too long. He can’t help the awkward smile that tugs at his lips. “Hey, darling. You look like you just fought a dragon.”

You start to laugh, but it quickly turns into a wince, and you relax back into the pillow. “Oh, jeez, don’t make me laugh. My head hurts.”

He quickly reaches for the glass of water on your bedside table and offers it to you. “Sorry, my bad. I’ll be my usual, stoic, boring self then.”

“You’re never boring, Mitchell.” You roll your eyes, before taking a sip.

He can’t help but watch you closely, as if you might vanish if he looks away. “Phia told the whole cast about your accident in the group chat. Did you know that?” he said, trying to keep things light.

“Oh great,” you mumble. “Did Rhys send one of his motivational selfies?”

“Well,” Ewan smiles. “He did. Said something about you ‘getting back in the saddle’ while he posed with a horse. It was inspirational, honestly.”

Ewan hadn’t felt anything when he saw that, consumed with thoughts of you, but now he feels free to let amusement wash over him. Now that he’s with you.

You roll your eyes again, softly smiling. “Of course he did. Well, I appreciate it.”

You are okay, which means Ewan is okay.

He knows just how in love he is with you. Even though you’d broken things off for his sake, even though the boundaries had blurred. Then friends with benefits. No strings. Except those strings had tightened around both of you, slowly suffocating the pretense until it collapsed. And now here you both were – again. With the issue of his PR looming like a goddamn stormcloud, and there is no running from it. 

He clears his throat. “You scared the hell out of me, you know?”

Your expression softens as you look at him. “I’m sorry. But I’m okay, really.”

He sighs, running a hand through his unruly dark blonde hair. “I didn’t know what I’d find when I got here. And Phia, bless her, has a knack for delivering life-altering news like she’s talking about what she had for breakfast.”

“She means well.” You smile, shaking your head.

“Yeah, darling, but next time, let’s just skip the part where you end up in a hospital bed, okay?” He reaches for your hand, his voice wavering slightly. He hates how vulnerable he sounds, but there’s nothing he can do to hide it.

“Deal.” You give his hand a playful shake, but your tone is sincere. 

Ewan glances down, his jaw tightening. He wants to ask if things can finally go back to the way they were – to you being his. He’s already yours anyway. 

But instead, he swallows hard and forces a lighthearted tone. “You know, if I had been there to teach you how to ride the Buck, then this never would have happened.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really, Mitchell? I’m pretty sure you almost got thrown off once.”

Ewan scoffs, giving you his best offended look. “Almost doesn’t count, darling. I’ve practically mastered it now. I do ride the biggest and fiercest dragon in the realm, remember?”

“I said don’t make me laugh,” you say, giving him a pointed look. 

He leans forward, his smirk widening. “I’m just saying. I could’ve saved you from all the stale hospital food. I mean – ” There’s a familiar flicker in his expression. With his head tilted downward, he looks at you through his eyelashes. “ – I have seen you ride, and you’ve got skill, but you do need my help.”

Your mouth falls open at his audacity. “Mitchell! When have you been this smug?”

“Only you have seen the full range of my talents,” he teased.

“Oh really?” you counter. “I did hit my head, so maybe I forgot all about them.”

“Recover quick, and I can jog your memory.”

He can feel the pull – he’d always felt it – and the familiar ache creeps back into his chest, stronger than ever. He wants to reach for you and close the gap. But instead, he buries it beneath a smirk.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good. I’ll even throw in a few tricks. You know, to keep things interesting.”

“You said it, Mitchell,” you snort softly.

His gaze lingers on you, and the playful banter stalls, replaced by something heavier. And before he can stop himself, he leans close, hovering over you. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, darling,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You don’t respond, but you don’t need to. The way you look at him, the way your eyes soften, says enough. He hesitates for just a moment, his hand brushing gently against yours before he leans in further.

Gently, he presses his lips to your forehead, the touch light and lingering. When he pulls back, his face is close to yours, his gaze searching as if he is waiting for something. An answer. A sign. Anything to tell him where this was going.

There is something in your expression that seems like the same yearning that he has been unable to fight for so long.

“I’ll be here,” he whispers, the heavy significance of the words settling. “Whenever you need me.”

It’s your third morning at the hospital, when Phia, Liv and Tom burst into your room like a gust of fresh air, their loud voices echoing out in the hall.

Phia’s holding an extravagant bouquet of flowers – so big it practically obscures her face – while Liv balances a tray of coffees, her smile bright and warm. Tom walks in last with a massive balloon arrangement, the centre one reading GET WELL SOON in neon colours. 

“Look who’s alive and kicking!” Tom announces, waving the balloons around. “For a while there, we thought Alyna was going to have to be recast!”

Liv elbows him sharply in the ribs, then sets the coffees down on your bedside. “Tom, honestly.”

You can’t help the grin that creeps onto your face. “Yeah, right. As if there could ever be a better Alyna.”

Ewan sits by your bed, arms crossed, watching the group with quiet amusement. But the second Phia notices him, she arches a brow and points at him with a no-nonsense look. “Mitchell. Go home. Shower. Sleep. You look like death cooked over.”

Ewan’s brow furrows, and he opens his mouth to protest, but Phia cuts him off with a stern glare. “I’m not asking. I’m telling.”

He glances down at you, his expression conflicted, but you give him a small, tired nod. “You probably should. You’ve been here the whole time.”

Ewan hesitates, but then sighs, resigned. “Alright. But I’ll be back soon, darling.”

Phia nods, pleased. “Good. And don’t come back until you’ve slept at least eight hours… darling.”

Ewan shoots her a mock glare, then leans down toward you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “See you in a few hours,” he murmurs softly, his voice just for you.

You nod, watching as he leaves the room, your heart sinking just a little. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, Phia turns to you with a smirk. “He’s so whipped.”

Your cheeks flush instantly. “He’s just… worried.”

“Worried?” Tom scoffs, dropping into a chair beside Phia. “Right. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

“Please,” Liv chimes in, smiling knowingly. “He’s been practically glued to your side since you woke up.”

You shift uncomfortably, trying to deflect. “Yeah, well, after everything, we’re just… friends.”

Phia arches a brow. “Friends? You guys stopped being just friends since the age of the fucking dinosaurs, doll.”

You open your mouth to argue, but Liv interrupts, sliding you a cup of water from the tray. “Alright, we’ll stop harassing you – for now. Let’s talk birthday plans instead.”

At the mention of birthdays, guilt twists in your stomach. Ewan’s birthday had been in March, just a few weeks ago. You had known, but with the mess of the overall situation, it had slipped by.

“I completely forgot his birthday,” you murmur, the guilt weighing heavy. “I should’ve done something.”

Liv squeezes your hand gently. “You’ve had a lot on your plate. I’m sure he understands.”

Tom leans forward with a grin. “That’s why we’ve got a plan to make up for it. Joint birthday bash.”

Phia nods, her eyes twinkling. “For Ewan, Fabien, and Freddie. We’re thinking a trip to Spain, some villa, maybe a pool party, lots of sunshine. It’ll be a proper holiday for everyone.”

“Wait, what?” You blink, surprised by the sudden reveal of such an elaborate plan.

Liv grins. “Yeah. We’ve already started organising it. It’ll be in mid April, just after you’re up and moving again. A real joint celebration for the three of them.”

Tom gestures grandly. “Fabien’s excited. Lord Freddie’s thrilled to be celebrated, you know how he is. Ewan – well, he doesn’t know yet, cause all he thinks about is you.”

The idea sounds incredible – a break in Spain with the cast, a chance to relax and celebrate together. Especially after your on-set slipup. But the more they talk, the more conflicted you feel. Being in the same place with both Ewan and Matty… would be something indeed. 

Ewan is still to be in a carefully curated PR relationship, all for the sake of his movie. You dislike it, though you understand it, that relentless Hollywood game of optics. But the thought of spending time with him at a secluded villa in Spain – away from cameras, prying eyes, and staged appearances – sends your heart racing. You know Ewan. He’d see it as an opportunity. A chance to be close to you, to slip back into old habits, to erase the distance that the PR relationship has forced between you.

There would be no cameras, no script to follow – just the two of you in the same space, and you already know what that would lead to.

The memory of the masquerade ball is still fresh in your mind. That one night, where the lines had blurred so easily. You’d been wrapped in the heat of his arms, the press of his body against yours, the intoxicating thrill of being with him without anyone knowing.

And then there is Matty. Sweet Matty who is too charming for his own good. You had started seeing him casually, trying to convince yourself you could make it work, and you can’t deny the pull he has on you. How easy it all could be. Being with him feels like standing with the warm embrace of sunshine. 

You love Ewan. You want Matty. Thousands of girls would scramble to be in your position – the one who captured the boys’ affections. You, the one lying there in a hospital gown, with a broken ankle and head gauze.

So glamorous. So desirable. 

Tom’s voice cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. “So, Spain. Swimming, sunbathing, a giant villa – what do you think?”

You blink, catching up to the conversation. “I think… I’m in.”

Phia grins widely. “Good. Ewan’ll be thrilled you’re coming.”

Liv smiles. “We thought the party could be a way for everyone to unwind, you included. No pressure.”

No pressure. But you know there is pressure – at least, there is for you. You’ve been avoiding it, dancing around the feelings you can’t admit to yourself, let alone to Ewan. And Matty – kind, supportive Matty, who doesn’t deserve to be caught up in your mess.

“Yeah, no pressure,” you say softly, but the words feel hollow.

Phia stands up suddenly, clapping her hands together. “Alright, enough of this emotional nonsense. Let’s talk logistics – birthday cake! We’re doing three layers, one for each of the boys.”

Tom dryly says, “I offered to get Martha to bake it, but we decided against it because her specialty is burnt-charcoal waffles.”

Phia shoots him a deadpan look. “They were practically concrete. Love her though!”

Liv laughs, shaking her head. “We’ll leave the cake to the professionals, thanks.”

As the conversation shifts to party details and farfetched ideas, your mind drifts. You try to stay focused, but your thoughts keep circling back to the same place – Spain, the party, Ewan and Matty. The idea of being around them for days, in a relaxed holiday setting, feels both exciting and terrifying. 

You know it’s not just a party. It’s a ticking time bomb.

Ewan’s footsteps echo in the sterile hospital hallway, his grip tight on the bouquet he’s brought for you – your favourite flowers, carefully chosen. As per Phia’s orders, he had gone home and slept a good 10 hours, being more exhausted than he must have realised. The day after, going back to you was the only thing that came to mind, and he was out the door in no time.

As he rounds the corner toward your room, his steps falter at the sight of someone else approaching. 

Matt.

His tall frame is impossible to miss. He saunters down the hall from the opposite direction, holding a similar bouquet in one hand and a gift bag in the other. Ewan feels the tension twisting in his stomach as Matt’s eyes meet his across the corridor. 

For a moment, the hallway falls into an eerie silence, the air thick with an unspoken challenge. Neither of them says a word as they approach the door to your room at almost the same time, both armed with flowers, both here for you. 

“Ewan,” Matt greets first, his voice low, almost amused.

Ewan nods, keeping his expression neutral. “Matt.”

Ewan’s eyes flick to the flowers in Matt’s hand, and a bitter taste rises in his throat. Matt isn’t just another visitor, he’s the guy who’s been with you while Ewan is forced to sit on the sidelines. 

“You’re here again,” Matt comments, breaking the silence. “Not that I’m surprised.” 

Ewan raises an eyebrow. “And why wouldn’t I be? She needs support.”

Matt’s eyes narrow slightly, and his smile is tight. “I get that. But I’m here now too. She’s got plenty of support.”

Ewan feels a flicker of annoyance, his grip tightening on the bouquet. “You think that’s all it is? Just showing up with flowers and pretending you know what she needs?”

Matt’s jaw clenches, but he keeps his cool. He knows better than to cause a scene in the middle of a public hallway. “And you think you’re the only one who cares about her? The only one who knows her? She and I – we’ve been spending plenty of time together. I’ve got some idea of what she needs.”

The possessiveness in Matt’s tone is unmistakable, and it sets Ewan on edge. He steps closer, his eyes locked on Matt’s. “You’ve only been dating her for a few weeks, mate. But we’ve been through things that you couldn’t even begin to understand.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about your history. But let’s be real – if you were so good for her, why’d she end things with you? Why’s she with me now?”

Ewan feels a sharp pang at the reminder, but he doesn’t back down. “If you think things are over between me and her, then you’re mistaken. It will never be over. Maybe you’re a convenience. Someone for the moment.”

Matt takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. “A convenience? Right. I don’t see you making any moves to change the situation. You’ve been content to sit back and watch while I’ve been with her. Maybe you’re the one who’s convenient, yeah?”

Ewan’s jaw tightens, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows Matt’s right, in a way – he’s been stuck, unable to break free from the PR relationship that’s kept him and you apart. But that doesn’t make what Matt’s saying any easier to swallow.

“The way I see it, you’re just a distraction,” Ewan says, his voice sharp, laced with bitterness, “a way for her to forget what she really wants.”

Matt’s eyes flash with anger now, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “And what she really wants is you, is that it? Tell me, Ewan, if you’re so sure she’s still in love with you, why hasn’t she said anything? Why hasn’t she kicked me to the curb and come running back?”

The words hit harder than Ewan expects, and for a moment, he falters. He knows you still love him – he can see it in the way you look at him, the way you can never quite let go. But Matt’s right. You haven’t made a choice. And now here they are, two men standing in a hallway, both fighting for something that feels just out of reach.

Ewan steps even closer. “You think just because you’re in the picture now, I’m going to step aside and let you have her? Not a fucking chance, mate.”

Matt takes a deep breath in an attempt to collect himself. It’s clear to him that Ewan isn’t going to loosen up easily. Especially not when he’s being provoked. “I’m not asking you to step aside. But unless she tells me otherwise, I’ll keep showing up. So maybe you should get used to that.”

Ewan looks away, his voice lowering. “We… both… care about her. I’m not denying that. But don’t fool yourself. She hasn’t made her choice yet.”

“Maybe she hasn’t.” Matt holds his gaze. “But I’m here, and I’m willing to wait. Are you?”

The hallway feels suffocating, the weight of their words heavy in the air. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ewan speaks again, his voice softer but no less intense.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Matt nods once. “Neither am I.”

They stand there in silence for a moment, the unspoken agreement settling between them. It’s a temporary truce, but they both know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Finally, they turn toward your room, the door looming in front of them like a gateway to another battle. Ewan’s heart pounds as he pushes the door open, stepping inside, with Matt close behind.

You’re awake, sitting up slightly in bed, looking both surprised and nervous as you see the two of them enter together.

“Well, this is… unexpected,” you say, your voice tinged with humour as your eyes dart between the two men.

“Hey,” Matt says with an easy smile, walking over to place his flowers on the table by your bed. “Thought I’d stop by, check in on you.”

Ewan follows suit, setting his bouquet down next to Matt’s, though his gaze stays fixed on you. “And I came back, as promised.”

“Funny that you show up at the same time.” You glance between them, your brow raising. 

Matt chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, we didn’t exactly plan it.”

Ewan forces a smile, trying to keep things light. “Just making sure you’re not causing any more trouble, darling.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Oh, I’m definitely the troublemaker here.”

Ewan sinks into the chair by your bed while Matt leans against the windowsill, arms crossed. For a brief moment, it almost feels normal. Almost.

“Phia mentioned Spain,” Matt says after a beat, his voice casual, but there’s an edge to his tone. “The birthday trip.”

You nod eagerly. “The joint birthday for the lads.” Your eyes flicker to Ewan. “I feel terrible for missing your birthday last month.”

Ewan shakes his head, his expression softening. “You had a lot going on. Don’t worry about it.”

The casual mention of his birthday tugs at your heartstrings. You hadn’t forgotten exactly, but things had been so complicated. Now, though, guilt gnaws at you.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you say sincerely, looking at Ewan, and the way his eyes hold yours makes your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, the villa should be fun,” Matt chimes in, but there’s something sharp in his tone. “But we have to be sure you’re in tip top shape first, love.”

“I’ll be the one in the bikini and a leg cast,” you joke. 

The conversation drifts into lighter topics – memories of on-set pranks, silly cast antics – but there’s an underlying tension, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. It’s almost like watching a film in slow motion, each moment dragging longer than it should, with none of you willing to say what you’re really thinking.

After a while, Ewan checks his phone, his brows knitting together. He glances at you, a reluctant sigh escaping his lips. “Darling, I need to head out. I’ve got a meeting with my manager to sort out the filming schedule.”

You nod in understanding. “You did leave LA pretty quickly. I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

Ewan’s gaze softens. “It’s not trouble,” he says quietly. “Not when it’s for you.”

As he walks to the door, he pauses and looks back at you, his expression unreadable. He hesitates, then takes a few steps back toward the bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. The gesture is tender, and it leaves a warmth in its wake that lingers long after he’s gone.

“Rest up, darling,” he murmurs before turning to leave.

You’re left with Matt, the silence between you more comfortable and less tense than it was with Ewan. He moves from his spot by the window and sits down in the chair Ewan just vacated. He offers you a gentle smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “He cares about you a lot, you know,” he says.

“I know,” you reply softly.

Matt smirks, his cheekiness resurfacing. “Almost as much as I do.”

The atmosphere eases after that, Matt joking about the cast’s upcoming trip to Spain, trying to make you laugh. After a while, your body begins to give in to exhaustion, your eyes growing heavy. He notices and encourages you to rest, and you doze off before long, the soft hum of his voice lulling you to sleep. 

But just as you slip into that hazy space between wakefulness and dreaming, you hear Matt’s voice again, quieter now, like he’s talking to himself. Or maybe to you, thinking you’re already asleep.

“I know you still love him,” he says softly, the words almost painful to hear. “I can see it every time you look at him. It’s obvious.”

Your heart tightens in your chest, but you keep your breathing steady, pretending to stay asleep.

“I don’t blame you,” Matt continues, his voice rough with emotion. “He’s good for you, isn’t he? You’ve got history. I knew what I was getting into when we started this… whatever this is. But I can’t help it. I see myself falling in love with you, and it terrifies me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and your eyes burn behind your closed lids. You want to say something, anything, but you don’t. You lie there, frozen, letting Matty’s confession hang in the air between you.

“You don’t have to choose me,” Matt whispers, almost as if he’s resigned to his fate. “But I… I certainly wouldn’t mind it if you do, love.” He laughs bitterly at the end, then turns serious once more. “We could… we could be happy.”

His voice cracks slightly, and it takes everything in you not to react. You hadn’t realised just how much this meant to him, how deeply he felt. He always seemed so easygoing, so casual, and now you see that there was more beneath the surface. So much more.

You lie still, pretending to sleep, as Matt gently brushes a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll be here, if you want me,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. 

You chose yourself, selfish as it might have been, and you would make the same decision again if given the chance. You needed to do that; you owed it to yourself. You also sought companionship and a shot at happiness with him. But that hadn’t been final. 

No matter who it will be in the end, someone’s heart is going to break. 

Your ankle is forgotten, your concussion a trifling thing.

Because the weight of that choice is a much heavier burden to bear.

The villa in Spain is like something out of a dream, nestled in the rolling hills of Mallorca. Its white stone walls gleam against the deep blue backdrop of the Mediterranean, the ocean stretching endlessly in the distance. The courtyard is lined with blooming florals and tall cypress trees. It’s the kind of place that makes you forget about the rest of the world, even if just for a moment, and let go of everything that’s complicated and heavy.

But not for Ewan, who sits alert under the shade of a large patio umbrella by the pool, clad in only his navy blue swim trunks. His sunglasses are perched on his nose, as he pretends to read a script – his attention is elsewhere. 

They track you, where you’re surrounded by the girls, all of them fussing over you like a flock of mother hens. Your fracture boot is propped up on the sun chair, crutches leaning nearby. 

Ewan smiles to himself when you laugh at something Liv says, your face lighting up completely. He's relieved that you’re able to relax after everything. But underneath that relief is something else – something that coils even tighter every time he glances at Matt nearby.

Matt’s never far, either. Ewan notices it. Of course, he notices. How could he not? The way Matt hovers just on the edge of the group, never too close to seem overbearing but always there. It’s the same thing Ewan’s doing, and it’s infuriating because he knows exactly what it means. 

Ewan watches as a shirtless Matt hands you a cold drink, his hand brushing yours for a second longer than necessary. You look up, smile gratefully at him, and Ewan feels the sharp sting of it, like a jab to the ribs. He clenches his jaw and forces himself to look away, his grip tightening on the already tattered script in his hands.

“Mitchell, my boy,” Freddie says, plopping down in the chair beside him. “You’ve clearly got a thousand-yard stare going on underneath those shades. You alright?”

Ewan shrugs, trying to play it off. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

Freddie is unconvinced, but he doesn’t push. “It’s our celebration in paradise, mate. You should think about getting a drink in you. Pretend to have fun before Tom ropes us all into some ridiculous pool game.”

Ewan huffs a laugh, grateful for the distraction, but it’s short-lived. His eyes drift back to you, watching as Phia ties a sun hat around your head, joking about protecting ‘the merchandise,’ while Liv adjusts the chair to make sure you’re comfortable. You’re surrounded by care, by laughter, and yet… Ewan can’t shake the need to be near you. To be the one making sure you’re alright.

He hates the way Matt looks at you, like he’s got some claim, like he knows what’s best for you. He doesn’t know you. Not like Ewan does. He hasn’t been through the heartbreak, the sleepless nights, the mess of trying to hold it together when everything was falling apart. He hasn’t watched you fight through everything, hasn’t seen the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.

Matt is there, sure, but Ewan has been there.

He wants to go over, tell the girls to give you some space, be the one to take care of you himself. But he doesn’t. Not with Matt there, standing just close enough to remind him that you’re not his to take care of. Not anymore. 

“Careful, mate,” Fabien materialises from the side, a drink in hand. “You keep looking at her like that, and it’s gonna get messy.”

“It’s already messy,” Ewan replies, clicking his tongue. He shifts in his seat, trying to focus on the script in front of him, but it’s pointless. He watches as Matt crouches down beside you, leaning in to say something quietly. You laugh, and the sound hits like a white-hot surge to his veins – an instinctual, possessive reaction he can’t suppress. 

Ewan doesn’t want to cause a scene. It’s a holiday, after all – everyone’s in good spirits, and you finally look like you’re getting some much-needed rest.

But before he even realises it, he’s already halfway across the courtyard, his steps brisk and determined. 

“Hey,” Ewan says when he reaches you, his tone light, almost forced. “Mind if I join?”

Matt straightens, settling in the chair next to you. “Well, look who finally decided to come over. Thought you were just going to lurk all day.”

You shift in your chair, adjusting your fracture boot, letting Ewan sit next to your outstretched legs. “I’m fine, by the way. If that’s what this is about.”

The girls are now watching intently in their respective sun chairs, pretending to sip their drinks but clearly enjoying the show. You’re caught between rolling your eyes and laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Ewan casts a quick glance at your ankle boot, the tenderness in his gaze flickering just for a moment before he locks eyes with Matt again. “I’m just making sure you’re not overwhelming her. She might need her space,” he says.

Matt raises an eyebrow, his casual posture not matching the edge in his voice. “Space? Mate, that’s rich coming from the guy who’s crowding her chair right now.”

Phia snorts into her drink, earning a stern look from Liv, but it’s too late. The tension is starting to draw a crowd, and even Fabien and Freddie are craning their necks to watch. Freddie whispers something to Fabien, who laughs, clearly entertained.

Instead of rising to the bait, Ewan exhales sharply and forces a smile. “Just making sure my… friend is comfortable.”

Liv arches an eyebrow. “My god, friend, is it? Please don’t tell me I’m your friend too.”

Emma freely chortles at Liv’s remark, while Phia doubles over in glee.

You interject with a sigh, waving your hands between them. “Okay, enough. I love a good ego battle as much as the next girl, but seriously – this is supposed to be a holiday. Can we not do this?”

“Honestly, you two,” Phia says, “I thought I already made it clear – she’s my girl.”

The tension cracks as the group erupts into laughter, and even Ewan and Matt can’t help but smile. 

“Alright, alright,” Ewan mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Truce. For now.”

Matt smirks, extending a hand mockingly toward Ewan, who rolls his eyes but shakes it briefly before turning his attention back to you. His gaze softens as he catches your eye. “Just… don’t overdo it, yeah?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling. “I’m the one in a boot. Trust me, I’m not going anywhere fast.”

Emma’s enjoying the scene, calmly sipping on their negroni sbagliato. “Honestly, with the way things are unfolding, this drama could end up being better than the show.”

Before anyone can throw in another comment, Ewan’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his trunks. His expression darkens briefly when he glances at the screen. It’s his manager, but she knows not to disturb him on holiday unless it’s urgent. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll be right back.” He catches your eye for a brief moment before stepping away.

The world of Hollywood is no stranger to scandal, but this one is poised to shake the industry to its core.

Bruce Haversham, the powerful executive behind some of the biggest film projects in recent decades, had been untouchable at the very top of the mountain. Until now.

The news broke late in the afternoon, first as a whisper across social media before exploding into full-blown coverage on every major network. Accusations of sexual harassment and assault came pouring in, one after the other, each more damning than the last.

By the time the story hit the major outlets, it was clear that Bruce Haversham’s reign was over.

In New York, where he had been arrested, footage of him being escorted from his apartment in handcuffs circulated widely. The headlines were merciless: Hollywood Titan Falls, The End of Bruce Haversham’s Empire, A Predator Unmasked.

For Ewan, this is more than just a story on the evening news. It’s personal.

It was Bruce who masterminded the PR relationship that drove a wedge between Ewan and the one he truly loves. 

Now, everything changes. Bruce Haversham is out. Effective immediately. 

The path ahead wouldn’t be easy – far from it – but now, at least it is a path Ewan can walk freely. 

His mind races as he drops the call, the flood of information almost too much to process at once. Talk about a late birthday gift.

The relief hit him fast, like a cool rush of air. But it is immediately followed by something else – confusion, uncertainty. What now? What does this mean for him, and for you?

Matt had swooped in, offering you comfort and companionship, complicating things further. He cares about you, Ewan knows that. And from the outside, it makes sense – you and Matt seem good together. 

But Ewan knows better. Deep down, he is certain – absolutely sure – that what you and he shared isn’t just good. It was right. You and him… you are perfect together.

Ewan’s free from his strings, and all bets are off. 

It’s all or nothing this time. 

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

The rest of the holiday will take up most of part 12! Ewan can actually properly enjoy himself now 😉

Don't think it'll be that easy! Darling's tied to Matty too, in a way. And after that confession? Damn it, Matthew, you sly loverboy you.

How far will Ewan go? And will Matty double down on his efforts? It's all chemical. It's all overriding. 🤷🏻‍♀️💙

[retroellie]

Twisted Game

Summary: After the prison collapses, you and Daryl are stuck on the road. After chugging down some moonshine a game of "Never have i ever" turns into a night you'll never forget.

A/N: I've had this in my drafts for weeks, i finished it up all today so it might be choppy. But this shit was the horniess thing i have ever written God damn. Also, the way this gif has a choke hold on me, HIS TUMMY, i simply cannot.

Warnings: NSFW, Loss of virginity, unprotected sex, Oral sex, dirty talk and squirting

Word count: 6.9K

“So you understand the game now?” You asked the man sitting across from you.

He gave you a look, blue eyes boring into your skin as you raised your brow to him. You had butterflies in your stomach, whether that was because you were sitting across from a beautiful man or it was the moonshine kicking In. He hesitated, knowing this game could end up in hurt feelings or you being completely grossed out about his redneck life. Opening up to people wasn’t Daryl’s strong suit.

“Fine…” he mumbled.

You guys had been on the road for days, only stopping to set up camp to rest and cook your squirrels or whatever Daryl had hunted for y’all. You missed your family, your family that you wouldn’t even look at twice before all this but yet they were the closest people to you. Daryl was unfortunately a part of that little family but he made you feel like a burden, he was never your favorite person ever but at this moment he was.

He was the only one left to you, he was the only person left of your entire fucked up family you had. You had broken down so many times, crying at night hoping Daryl didn’t hear… he always did. He wasn’t too good at feelings so he never said anything but he wanted to. But here y’all were now, sipping on moonshine after Daryl had picked it out for you. He thought maybe it would take your mind off things… if it ever will be taken off your mind.

“Okay great!! I’ll start!” You said, smiling wildly as you thought about what you’d say.

You were usually well reserved, never really opening up to anyone but carol and maybe Rick at times. But you were tipsy, the moonshine burning low into your stomach and you were let loose. If someone were to tell you that you would be in an abandoned trailer with moonshine in your hand next to a pretty redneck?? You’d laugh in their face.

“I’ve never…. Drank before… I mean besides this.” You said, smirking over at Daryl.

Daryl rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his moonshine before putting it back down. It amazed you how he didn’t even make a face when he downed it, he’s definitely used to drinking you thought.

“Okay… it’s your turn!” You said

Daryl thought, there’s not much he hasn’t done so this is trying to rack his brain to find out something you have done that he hasn’t… It was hard.

“I never read a book and enjoyed it…” he said

This caused you to chuckle lightly, it was silly that he’d hadn’t enjoyed a book ever… completely opposite of you, books helped you get through the day sometimes.

“Really?? Like never?” You asked

He nodded, letting a smirk on his face at your reaction. He didn’t like you too much but he can’t deny your beauty, especially your smile.. You brought your cup up to your lips and took a swig. You tried to not make a face, trying to mimic what Daryl did but you couldn’t… this shit tasted awful.

“Yuck.. I’ve never liked drinking…” you joked, sticking your tongue out and shivering.

“It ain’t for everyone… I just like the buzz.” He said, sipping on his moonshine willingly. You gagged jokingly.

“Yeah… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this shit.” You said, trying to swallow down the burning sensation as it creeped down your throat.

You guys went back and forth for a bit, Daryl saying something he hasn’t done which caused you to drink and then you saying something you haven’t done causing Daryl to drink. It’s funny how a simple game could bring you two closer together which honestly allowed you to ease up and just sit back for a minute. You weren’t thinking any thoughts but what you haven’t done in your life, it really made you think about how you honestly haven’t really lived.

You liked seeing Daryl smile, you’ve never really been able to see that smile of his but now you were addicted to it. You found yourself cracking stupid jokes just go see it and honestly, this might be the moonshine talking, you couldn’t help the dull ache that it created deep within you.

“Okay hmmm I’ve never…” you thought once again… thinking of any embarrassing thing you haven’t done.

You don’t know what came over you but you just blurted the first thing that came into your head, it was strange… like the moonshine was taking over. Your lips had become loose, not able to control them because you were far too gone for that now.

“I’ve never had sex” you were surprised you even said it and it kinda grossed you out.

You were definitely not yourself right now, you would never willingly say that to anyone. You weren’t ashamed of it but it can be a little embarrassing due to the fact you’re in your 20s and still a virgin. It’s not that you didn’t want to or you were actively trying to not have sex, it’s just something that never crossed your mind ever when you were with a person. You’ve had boyfriends and girlfriends, all of them have tried but you always told them you weren’t ready for it.

You looked up at Daryl, seeing that his facial expression never changed… but instead he lifted his cup to his lips and chugged down his moonshine.

“Sorry I…” you started, not able to finish before Daryl asked a hard hitting question.

“Why not?” He asked, setting his cup down.

You were surprised Daryl even continued the game after that, it was all fun and games… no gross shit until you brought that up. You were embarrassed, wishing you never said anything but honestly intrigued about what Daryl would say about the subject.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, staring down into your moonshine glass. “I've just never been interested enough in someone to do it…”

You looked up at Daryl, making sure he was paying attention to you before you went on. He was staring at you with a different look in his eyes than usual, it wasn’t his usual hard stare he gave everyone. It was softer but still with the same hardness, his pupils were bigger… almost black as he bore them into your skin. When you say you weren’t yourself right now, you meant it. Without even having to rack out your courage from your brain, you looked daryl right in the eyes.

“Until now…” you confessed which created an even deeper ache within you.

Daryl’s eyes stayed on you, not flinching or moving off of you… not even once. You thought maybe he didn’t hear you at first and honestly deep down you wish he didn’t, you were embarrassed at your sudden neediness. Then you thought maybe he didn’t get your hint, maybe you were being too subtle about it. You hoped maybe he would be able to drop it so it would save the embarrassment but what you didn’t know was it lit something inside Daryl.

His blood ran cold when you said that, he watched as you gave him a clueless, innocent look as those filth covered words slipped out of your mouth. Daryl hated how childish you were, how cheery and how you were so optimistic about the world ending… yet he couldn’t shake the thought of you below him as you sucked his dick, he imagined you would be so sloppy with it. He could imagine your drool spill over his cock, making a mess out of yourself. His favorite day dream was you on your hands and knees in front of him as he rammed himself so deep inside you, his hands shoving you down into the pillow as you took his length like the whore you are… or the whore he thought you were.

You being a virgin struck a different feeling into Daryl, you had never been touched before and you never even wanted to be touched… except by Daryl. It was almost as if you waited for him, waited for him to take what was his. He just hates how it had to be this way, after losing everyone and getting drunk on moonshine but Daryl didn’t mind. Daryl had been waiting for this moment since he met you and knowing you’re a virgin was enough to send him off the edge.

“Take your shirt off…” was the only thing he said, suddenly you sobered up.

You were now hyper aware of everything happening in this moment. You could hear the walker outside, you could feel the carpet underneath you and how filthy it was, you could hear every breath that came out of Daryl… they were much deeper than before. You took a moment to let his words linger, making sure you heard him right but after a moment… you did what you were told.

You slowly unbuttoned your shirt, each button showing more and more skin to Daryl causing his breath to hitch. You heated up with every button, finally getting to the final one and then allowing your shirt to slide down your arms. You sat tall, watching Daryl’s eyes scan over your breast. Daryl sat there for a minute, just staring as your face began to heat up more than it already had been.

Then after a moment of hesitation, Daryl stood up and made his way over to where you sat on the floor. You could see how hard he was through his pants, his big cock standing to attention causing your mouth to water slightly.

“You really want this?” He asked, staring down at you as you sat on your knees like an obedient whore you thought you’d never become

You nodded violently, hands scratching at your thighs as you held back the need to touch him. Daryl just chuckled at your actions, running a hand through your hair, getting a good look at your innocence before he completely destroyed you.

“Then you're gonna have to work for it…” he grinned, taking his other hand so he could undo his belt slowly.

You were nervous to say the least, you had dreamed about this for months but it finally freaked you out. Not to mention you’ve never done anything like this, what if you weren’t good enough for him. You watched as he slowly undid his pants, watching as he went teasingly slow. When his pants were successfully undone, he pulled them down so they were down to his knees. You could see his cock straining against his boxers, you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together for some kind of friction.

Then Daryl shed the last piece of clothing that covered himself, pulling down his underwear which allowed his cock to spring free. You felt a whole world wind of emotions, excitement, nervousness and pleasure all running deep within your bones. He was much bigger than you expected, causing everything wrong to go through your brain. Will it fit? Is it going to rip you open? Will you be able to take him? Daryl saw your nervousness, giving you a reassuring scratch on the head.

“We don’t have to… we can stop now.” He said, lifting your head to look up at him.

He gave you the softest look you had ever seen him give anyone, his fingers danced along your chin as you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. You shook your head, readjusting yourself on your knees but really… you were trying to silence the ache that was affecting your entire body at this point.

“No… I mean, yes I want this I just..” you paused, biting your lip nervously. “I’ve never done this before… like any of it… I don’t know how.”

You tried to explain it the best you could, you thought you sounded stupid but Daryl knew what you meant. Daryl gave you a smirk, setting his hand on his dick as he slowly pumped it… you saw it twitch out of the corner of your eye. Daryl placed his hand back in your hair, not roughly, not trying to force your head down on him but it was comforting. His hand lightly scratched your scalp, trying to ease your nervousness.

“I’ll teach ya, ya can’t really mess it up so don’t worry.” He joked, even despite your nervousness you let out a chuckle.

You stood taller on your knees, coming face to face with his throbbing cock. You watched as Daryl thrusted his cock into his hand, watching as he set a slow pace for it. He engulfed his entire length in his hand, making sure to slide his fingers along the tip at times.

“Since you are a beginner, go ahead and start at the tip.” He spoke, watching as you looked up at him and then down at his cock once more.

You nodded, getting your lips wet as you opened your mouth and attached it to the pink flush tip. You saw a porno or two, seeing how the girls would give the tip kisses and tiny licks to tease the man. You started off making circles with your tongue on the tip, pulling off to set small kisses to it before going back. Daryl’s groans caused you to go a bit deeper, doing the same thing with the top of his cock.

“Good girl…” he groaned out, his hand in your hair giving you a reassuring scratch once again. “Now when ya think yer ready… hollow your cheeks and take as much as you can of me.”

You moaned at the pet name, loving the way he was talking you through it all. You started small once again, taking in small amounts of him. Your tongue went crazy on him, you weren’t quite sure what to do with it but it made his cock twitch in your mouth so you thought maybe you were doing it right. You bobbed your head up and down, each time you took more and more of him in your mouth.

You could feel Daryl tense up, you could see how hard he was trying to stop his hips from bucking… oh how he wanted to watch you choke and slobber all over his cock, but Daryl wasn’t that mean. Your first time was already going to be in a piss stained trailer, he might as well let you take your time with it. Daryl’s hand was now grabbing at your hair, which part of it was to help you bob your head up and down at a good pace, the other part was because your mouth just felt too good on him… he needed to grab something.

“Fuck… y/n, your doing so fucking good.” He moaned, you would have never guessed Daryl Dixon had such pretty moans.

You smiled on his cock, the praise was getting to your head slightly, you would even say it was causing you to get too big of a head. You attempted to take all of him all at once, you just wanted to make him feel good but you completely forgot about the fact you hadn’t done this before, you were still so new to it. You took your mouth almost all the way off before shoving his cock right down your throat, you gagged causing you to retract back from it.

“Woah there…” Daryl said, seeing how your eyes started to water slightly and your lips were rubbed raw from his cock. “Ya can’t take all of me… not yet at least, you have to start slow bunny.”

“I’m sorry…” you said pathetically, you had become so needy and the only thing you wanted to do was make Daryl feel good.

“ ‘s okay, you can try again if you want or we can stop.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You looked down at Daryl’s spit covered cock, the ache in your cunt was too much to bear now. You didn’t want to continue but you needed to, it felt like you were out of oxygen in the stuffy room you had been in and the only thing that could ease that feeling was Daryl. Even through your embarrassment you wanted to make it up to Daryl and suck the life out of him.

You looked up into Daryl’s eyes, placing your mouth on his cock once more. You bobbed your head at the same pace you had been before, making sure to not take your eyes off Daryl as his eyes closed slightly. You were much slower  this time, taking in as much as you could, licking up the small vein that laid on the back of his cock. You tried this time to have a small head about it, not get too cocky so as to not embarrass yourself again.

You had gotten to the point where you couldn’t take anymore, Daryl’s hand in your hair wouldn’t let you go that far anymore. Although seeing you choke on his cock gave him a power rush, he would never make you do it if you couldn’t.

“If you can’t take much more, you can use your hands on the rest.” He stated, reaching for your hand and you gave it to him. He placed your hand on the base of his cock, the small section you could not fit in your mouth. “Keep it at the pace yer mouth is going… there ya go.”

You were doing great so far or at least you thought. His cock felt comfortable in your mouth, although you wanted to go deeper, you wanted him all in your mouth but you knew what happened then. You watched as Daryl gripped into the table behind him, knuckles turning white as he had a violent grip on it. His head was thrown back, his nostrils flared as he tried to control his breathing. You liked what you were doing to him, how hard he had to keep himself contained. Who knew that you could do this to someone like Daryl Dixon.

“Doing so good y/n… fuck ‘m gonna cum..” he groaned, hand gripping harder at your scalp. “Gonna cum all over those tits…”

The idea excited you, the idea of you covered in Daryl’s cum, watching as he covered your tits with his seed. You picked up the already fast pace on his cock, taking him further into your mouth. He had gotten quite good at it, a little over half of his cock was fitted deep within your mouth and you could probably take in more if you really tried.

You could feel Daryl’s cock twitch more and more, his hips starting to buck into your mouth slightly, not enough to gag you on him but enough to feel in the back of your throat. You sucked harder, wanting to see how pretty he looked as he came especially when he came from you sucking his cock.

“Shit.. gonna cum…” he said once more, pulling you off of him with his hand and then placing his hand on his cock. “Pull your bra down… lemme see those pretty tits hm?”

You did as you were told, pulling your bra down so your tits were exposed to him. He gripped his cock harshly, starting his thrust at a fast pace as he looked down at you. Your eyes were lust blown and slightly teary, your mouth was wet with your own spit which had dribbled down onto your tits, your tits heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath. Daryl grunted as he thrusted into his hand, his hand that was in your hair reached down to grab one of your breasts.

He fondled it in his hand, he was delicate with it though. Pinching the skin softly as not to hurt you, but his hips snapped violently against his own hand. You watched as his face was engulfed by pleasure, watching as his orgasm took over his body. Daryl thrusted a few more times into his hands as his cock spilled his cum all over your tits, exactly where he said he was. He pumped himself through his orgasm, the ropes of cum landing perfectly on your tits. You were too busy watching as his face looked so angelic as he came on you, doing the most disgusting thing but still looking so pretty while doing it.

Daryl milked himself onto you, almost completely covering you with himself. Daryl slowly came down from his high, cock still throbbing as it became hard again. You could do nothing but watch, watch as Daryl literally lost his mind for 20 seconds and then became his composed self after.

“Good girl… you did good for me.” He breathed out, moving strands of your hair from your face so he can get a good look at you once again. You were so obedient to him, it turned Daryl on to the max. “You still want me to fuck you?”

You nodded, pressing your thighs together once again. The ache just wouldn’t go away without him fucking you, you couldn’t keep yourself contained anymore. If you had to beg Daryl to fuck you, you would in a heart beat. Daryl nodded down at you, looking around the trailer… for something.

“I’m not gonna fuck you on a dirty floor, I’ll go get a sheet for the couch.” He said, walking back into the trailer. Leaving you there with his cum coating your tits.

You were so ready, you didn’t think you could be this ready for anything but you were. You tried to sit still but you couldn’t, you fidgeted on your knees trying to keep yourself from touching yourself then and there. Your nervousness nowhere to be seen, you were suddenly sober and ready for the pretty redneck to go ram you into the floor.

“You ready?” Daryl said from behind you, you were so in your own head you didn’t even realize Daryl had sprawled and put a sheet on the couch already. You looked up at him, seeing him hold out his hand for you to grab.

You looked down at his hand and then back up at him, with a smile, you took his hand in yours. He helped you up onto your feet but that didn’t last long before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Daryl couldn’t help but chuckle at your eagerness but he didn’t try to stop you, no he just grabbed onto your hips and pulled you closer to him.

You slipped your tongue within his mouth, feeling every crevice of his mouth as his tongue fought with yours. As you were too busy trying to tongue fuck his mouth Daryl had walked you back onto the couch, knocking things off of tables as he did so. He laid you on the couch, your legs wrapped around him tightly. He supported himself with his arms but you pulled him down on top of you fully, wanting to feel his warmth in you as much as you could.

Daryl let it happen, letting you do whatever you needed to make yourself comfortable. Daryl snaked a hand down your body, creeping them into your pants and underwear as he slipped a finger through your slit. The sudden touch on your bundle of nerves caused you to gasp, no one had ever touched you there before and his rough hands had felt they were made for it. After Daryl had collected a good amount of slick on his fingers, he pulled it out of your pants and placed his fingers in his mouth.

“So wet… god can’t wait to fuck you.” He said, pulling you in for another kiss so you could taste yourself.

The makeout session didn’t take too long because as you were too lost in Daryl’s lips, he was pulling the rest of your clothing off along with his. When you had finally pulled away from his lips, you both were completely naked and your bodies were pressed together in one sticky and sweaty mess. Daryl looked down at you as he rubbed his cock between your slit, allowing himself to get as wet as possible.

“Are you ready for me bunny?” He asked, brushing your hair with his hands comfortably so you were feeling as safe as he could.

“I’m ready Daryl…” you whispered, pecking his lips softly.

Daryl loved how soft and sweet you were but he knew what came next, the sting of him stretching you out and the pain of your experience. Daryl wanted this probably as much as you but he hated being the one to take your virginity, he didn’t want to pain you in any way especially if he couldn’t control the pain. Down the road he’d show you good types of pain, how pain can make you feel good but this isn’t one of the pains he would want you to experience.

“It’s gonna hurt but only for a minute okay? You tell me when you want me to stop.” He stated, watching as you nodded.

You were too lust driven to understand the meaning of his words, you weren’t expecting to hurt that bad. Daryl nodded, grabbing onto your hand so you could squeeze it if needed. He lined himself up with your entrance before pushing himself in slightly. He watched as your brows furrowed and your eyes closed, he could tell you were already starting to feel the sting. He went in deeper, hoping it didn’t feel too much different but your yelp proved differently.

“ ‘m sorry..” he whispered, leaving soft kisses on your neck and jaw.

Daryl could feel your hand squeeze his harshly, you took in a harsh breath as the sting continued as he pushed more of himself in. He once again dragged his fingers down your body so he could rub the bundle of nerves, hoping that would take your mind off the pain for maybe a moment so he could push more of himself in you.

You felt like being ripped open but it was a weird good way, it wasn’t something you would like to feel any longer but it felt nice to know It was Daryl Dixon's pretty cock that was causing you this pain. Daryl tried to be quick with it, trying to shove himself in without causing too much pain. His quick work on your clit made it a little less painful, now the pain and pleasure mixing together to make a beautiful feeling deep in your stomach. It was complete hell for Daryl, he was only seconds away from going completely feral and his patients were wearing thin. He kept composure, trying to just focus on the way your face scrunched in pain.

“Are you almost in…” you gasped as he continued to ever so slowly inch into you.

He was almost half way in, he took moments to allow you to adjust to his size here and there but he was trying to make this go as fast as possible so you were able to feel our pleasure. You were soaked to say the least so Daryl was slipping right in, it’s just the pain and your contracting walls that caused his speed.

“Almost there… just a little more bunny.” He said, suddenly liking the pet name he’d given to you.

He continued to slide himself in slowly, only picking up the speed on your clit to make it easier for you all the while he peppered your neck with love bites. Daryl wasn’t a very affectionate man but right now he had a mission to make you feel as safe as he could make you and if he had to break down all his walls, he would. You had started to get a little fidgety, wanting to reject his cock out of you but also wanting him inside you fully… you craved it. Your body was heating up, your eyes filled with tears as the sting became so much and moans had slipped your lips like water out of a faucet.

You had never felt quite like this before, sure you’d touch yourself at night and one time you had dry humped one of your exes but it was nothing like this. You felt so full yet so empty all at the same time, you needed and wanted more even throughout the pain that coursed through your body. When you thought you were going inside, you felt Daryl’s hips fully against yours. You swear you could feel him inside your guts, it was such a beautiful feeling… being stretched out by his cock, the cock you had made cum no more than 10 minutes ago. You were in heaven…

“ ‘m in… just tell me when to move.” He whispered, landing a kiss on your tear streaked face.

You dug your nails into Daryl, trying to wait till the dull sting had stopped. It wasn’t too bad now, after a bit it had become nothing but an annoying ache but you weren’t ready for him to pound you yet. You stayed there, allowing your walls to get used to him. Daryl held back with everything he had, your velvet walls took his cock so well and he couldn’t wait to fuck them until they were worn down. Daryl couldn’t even day dream how good this feeling would feel, not even his hand could mimic the feeling of it.

You had completely molded to him, causing your walls to twitch slightly and your hips to buck into him. You could hear Daryl grunt into your ear as you teased him with your hips, you knew how hard he was trying to not hurt you… you thought it was sweet, so sweet that you wanted him to feel your appreciation.

“ You… can move now..” you said through a strangled moan.

That’s all Daryl needed, he started slow… teasingly slow even though he wanted nothing more than to slam into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge already, with the way his hand had taken a slow speed to your clit and how his cock was slowly bucking in and out of you… you could cum in seconds. Daryl kept his pace, his hand still in yours as he so softly pecked your lips.

Your moans filled the room, the annoying ache, the sting, the stretching no longer paining you anymore, it was now just pure pleasure. You were needing Daryl to speed up, you tried to buck your hips into his but your hips were sore and you couldn’t quite keep a good pace before exhausting yourself out. Daryl knew what you wanted though, he saw your face contort from pain to pleasure in a matter of seconds, he knew you were ready for a good pounding.

“I’m gonna move ya okay?” He said, asking for consent before he did pretty much anything.

“I don’t care… just go faster please!” You whined, causing Daryl to chuckle at your needy behavior.

Daryl sat up, seeing you pout as he took himself out. You asked for more but he gave you less, you were shitty but you weren’t upset for long. Daryl manhandled you basically, smacking your butt lightly to give you the hint to turn around. You did what he wanted, turning around in your hands and knees before Daryl pushed you down until only your front was pushed down into the sheets.

You shivered as the cold air hit your exposed cunt, you slightly whined due to the fact you couldn’t see Daryl. You never even thought the situation of you not seeing Daryl would give you any type of distress but here you were, ass up and waiting for Daryl to fuck you. Daryl got himself comfortable behind you, placing his hands on your hips as he looked down at your face pushed into the pillows.

“You okay? Need another pillow or a blanket?” He asked, watching you get frustrated with him.

“Jesus Christ! Daryl just fuck me!!” You yelled, loud enough for the walker outside to hear.

Daryl just chuckled, lining his throbbing cock up with your cunt once more before he pushed himself in again. You were still very much adjusted to his size, it felt like a hole inside you was filled as he did so… which literally happened but felt more hypothetical in the moment. Daryl started with his slow pace once again, this time only staying with it for mere seconds before he sped up. You twisted your hands in the sheets as his cock hit your g-spot every single thrust.

You were already on the edge before, the knot in your stomach had become annoyingly unbearable as Daryl sped his thrusts up. You couldn’t handle it, you felt like a hungry mad man who had just come across water for the first time in years. You could do much to stop yourself from coming up, you could only scream Daryl’s name at the top of your lungs as your cunt fluttered violently on his cock. Your vision went out, then your hearing and then you felt Daryl’s hands in your hair once again.

He pulled you back to earth with a single pull of your hair as he fucked you through your first orgasm. He spread your cunt apart with one hand as he continued his fast pace, his hips slapping against your ass every single time. You didn’t want him to stop, not even if your sensitive clit was begging for the abuse on it to stop.

“Fuck your so tight for me bunny ain’t ya? You needed to be fucked by my cock huh?” His words cause a deep desire within you, causing a wave of wetness to pour out of you once more.

Daryl was now at an animalistic pace, his hands now bruisingly gripped onto your hips as he thrusted you back into his cock. You moaned out a few “yes”’s and “need you.”’s as a reply to him but really it was the only thing you could say right now. Your mind was too clouded with his cock to be able to think any coherent thoughts, you had quite literally became a fuck toy  for him.

His abuse on your cunt continued, feeling your cunt contract on his cock as your second orgasm within the last 5 minutes started to stir up within your stomach. It only took a few thrusts from Daryl before it came undone again, he felt your cunt spasm once again on his cock. Daryl was close, so fucking close but he needed you to cum again before he could cum deep inside you.

“Just one more time bunny… need you to cum on my cock one more time…” he groaned, not stopping his hips as you came once again on his cock.

His words made yet another knot form within your belly, not waiting for your second orgasm to stop before moving onto the next. You were legit on fire, every one of your senses tingling, your throat burned from the screams that erupted deep down inside of you, your eyes were wet with your salty tears, your skin laced with a small sheet of sweat that seemed to pour out of your. Every inch of your body screamed at you to stop but also all at the same time wanted more, mixing pleasure and pain together as you got higher and higher to your third orgasm.

Daryl grabbed onto your shoulders, lifted you up off the couch so you were unbelievably close to him. Your back was flush against his chest, he held you there, locking your hips in place as he thrusted deeper and harder into your cunt. Your body was screaming for release at this point,  wanting nothing more than to explode under the pressure but you couldn’t get the push you needed to send yourself off the edge.

“I c-can’t…. Fuck Daryl!” You whined, the knot in your stomach so unbelievably tight.

You felt you were going to explode, you shook violently in the hands of Daryl as he thrusted relentlessly into you. Daryl slid his hand down to your clit, giving you an overwhelming amount of pleasure as you let out strangled moans and probably every curse word possible in this moment.

“You can bunny… your doing so fucking good for me, just cum on my cock one more time…” he whispered in your ear, lightly biting the lobe of it.

His words were exactly what you needed, that was the push that sent you over the edge. Suddenly the knot snapped, it didn’t feel anything like it did before though. It sent intense shocks through your body, every inch of your body screaming as it did so. You let out a scream, scratching at Daryl’s arm that was still placed roughly on your hips. You threw your head back over his shoulder, feeling your cunt shoot out fluids.

“God damn… fuck y/n!” Daryl moaned, thrusting only once more before spilling himself inside you.

Daryl’s cum filled you up to the brim, shoving his cock deep inside you so it can coat every inch of your insides. You watched as Daryl came, peaking at him through half closed eyes and seeing his face once again light up with pleasure. Daryl fucked not only you but himself through your orgasms, allowing you both to come down from your highs before he slid his now soft cock out of you.

Daryl held you for a minute, allowing you to go limp in his arms. Daryl wouldn’t say he was in love with you, he didn’t quite know what that felt like but the way he grabbed onto him now, half conscious as he held you softly, he would say you meant something to him. This moment all he wanted to do was protect you, he would kill anyone or anything that even tried to harm you… that terrified him.

“Uh… I’ll go check to see if that shower still works, so you can get cleaned up.” Daryl said, delicately placing you down on the couch.

You were still out of it, you could feel the moonshine creeping back up on you as your head pounded and your stomach twisted. You were plain exhausted as you watched Daryl get up and start collecting his clothes, pulling up his underwear and pants back onto his legs.

“Wait… Daryl?” You called out to him, sitting up so you could see him clearer.

“Yeah?” He answered, not even looking at you as he collected his clothes.

The thought saddened you but the only thing you thought was about how this was a one night stand to Daryl, his efforts to leave, to make you clean up after him, to be by yourself after you gave yourself to him. Daryl didn’t mean to make you feel like that but he didn’t do feelings, so when an ounce of feeling for you creeped up on him… he freaked. He suddenly felt like the world was collapsing under him and if that’s what love felt like, he didn’t want it.

“What does this mean for us?” You asked, seeing how the question left him frozen.

“What do you mean?” He tried to play dumb so hopefully you would just drop it, he begged of you to let him fuck you and leave so he wouldn’t have to deal with his feelings.

“I mean… I told you I haven’t felt this way about anyone before, I didn’t just give you my virginity just because..” you stated, eyes slightly watering as you could see yourself alone already.

Daryl didn’t mean to make you cry, he didn’t want to make you cry ever. God damn he just wanted to be alone now, he thought about you all the time, there wasn’t a single day he didn’t. He told himself that he hated you, you and your stupid optimism but it was just a way to trick himself because he knew he loved that about you. You were so happy and so hopeful, he was the complete opposite of that, and what do they say about the opposite? How do they attract each other?

“I ain’t good with labels” was all he said, not explaining what he meant by that.

It made your heart break slightly, you felt the same way about Daryl but you saw the way he pushed you away. He almost never allowed you to get close to him, ever. So you tried to push down the thoughts you had of him, even the dirty ones you would get at night. Hearing how maybe the man you had fallen in love with was willing to fuck you and than leave, it broke your heart. Daryl picked up on your change of posture, fuck he really didn’t mean it to come out like that.

“But this ain’t a one night stand if that’s what yer thinking.” He reassured me, hoping to get you to stop being so sad. “I do care about you…”

The confession made your heart flutter, you weren’t there what this meant, if this’ll be the start of something or you’ll just remain each other’s fuck buddies. What you did know was what the world meant to you, every word that left his mouth meant something to you. You knew that was his way of confessing he did have feelings for you, causing a big smile to appear on your face.

“You know what,” you started, wrapping yourself up in the sheet. “I’ll take it…”

[revelboo]

Not a request but just to say thank you for all the work youve done for us!!! Your characterization’s are just top tier and I love how you build up the interactions and focus on the smaller things, really gives us a feel of everythingg

Please do take breaks though!! The rate which you write is crazy honestly😭😭😭

I can technically do these short form fics very quickly if I want to, but my day job is keeping me a bit busy right now.

Better Open The Door Pt 8

IDW Thundercracker x Reader

• Using a spare blanket to rub your hair dry, your mind keeps dredging up the memory of his lips pressing softly against your spine. He’d behaved himself after, but he’d spent more time watching your furtive attempts to wash without flashing him than even trying to wash himself. It’s just his weird fascinations with humans and you know it, but still. The feel of his lips on you had been warm, felt real even if it can’t possibly be. Groaning, you drape the blanket over your head and just hide. From him and from your own weird thoughts. From the fact that even though you should resent him, it’s hard to.

• Watching you from his desk as he fiddles with his data pad, he leans to try and tug the blanket off of you. “What are you doing?” You latch onto it, resisting and while he knows he could easily uncover you, he lets you have whatever this is. Privacy? You’re back in your coverings, so maybe you’re just tired? “I can dim the lights if you need to rest.” And there you are, peeking out at him.

• You want to ask. About his possessive words before and that touch, because you’re not sure he’s playing the same game anymore and you hate not understanding the rules. He’d taken you just to play pretend, playing house with you to satisfy some weird desire from watching too many movies. Right? Whatever that was in the wash racks hadn’t felt like playing, though. “What am I to you?”

• Don’t you already know? Reaching out to tip your chin up and smiling when you catch his servo, but don’t push him away, he studies your expression. “We’re friends, right?” He asks even though that’s not quite right at all. Wants to protect the peace you give him, your smiles and laughs that had come so easily before he’d taken you, but now they’re brittle. Unhappy with him for keeping you here. For not giving you a choice.

• “Yeah, friends,” you mutter, blowing out a breath. And as annoyed as you are with him, he’s just so genuinely invested in you, in worrying over you and trying to make you happy, that it’s hard to stay furious with him for kidnapping you. No matter what he insists, he will get bored with you. You’re not that interesting and he has to realize that. This can’t last, but it’s not like you can hate him. He’s still Thundercracker. Still painfully optimistic and hopeful, just wanting to be with you. Maybe lonely, too.

• “Best friends,” he insists, choosing to ignore it when you roll your eyes at him. “I downloaded some movies on my data pad.” Reaching for you, his servos stop shy of touching you. Giving you a choice. He misses your real smiles, wants to go back to when you trusted him. Because this uneasy tension hurts. It’s almost more lonely than he’d been before he found you. Your head tips to study his expression and he fully expects you to refuse, so when you wrap yourself in your blanket and place yourself in his servos, it means everything. He can’t tell you the truth, yet. Can’t explain why he took you, what’s coming. Because when he admits that his war is likely going to take everything from you, you really will hate him.

Previous

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[4mnji]

FORGIVE ME, BABY ᡣ𐭩 eren yeager x reader

synopsis: u find out ur fwb has been fucking other girls on the low and u hate being one of his options, so he comes over to “apologize” to you

warnings: kissessss, pussy eating, fingering, orgasm denial, choking, pet names (baby, my love, princess), eren is just a lil mean n nonchalant 😠, reader is kinda possessive hehe 🎀, reader and eren r both in their 3rd year of college, once again written with a black women in mind but anyone can read

wc: 1.4k

a/n: here’s another fic that has been collecting dust in my notes for a hot minute. i hope yall enjoy 💋

you’re chilling on your bed, scrolling through instagram bored outta your mind when you get a call from your fuck buddy, eren. you shot up from ur position on the bed making sure u looked good enough to answer the facetime call. when you were just about to pick up, you stopped in your tracks and let it ring until the call eventually went away.

you wanted to pick up, you really did but you had remembered that just a few days ago mikasa, your best friend, had sent you a screenshot of one of her instagram mutuals close friends post with a message undernesth it saying “isn’t that ur man??”. you clicked on the screenshot and it was a picture of eren and some random girl laying in bed, eren with his face buried deep into her neck displaying all the hickeys he must’ve gotten from her with her hand touching his back. you instantly knew it was eren because of the tattoo behind his ear. obviously you knew you and eren weren’t together and probably would never be, but you just couldn’t stand the sight of seeing him give the d to anyone else who wasn’t u when he could simply just hit you up if he wanted a good fuck. your phone dinged 2 times, making you snap out of your trance.

rennie 💋💋

why u ain’t pick up?

i have ur location, ik ur ass is home.

you rolled your eyes at his messages, deciding not to text him back and just call him instead. he picks up on the first ring, instantly questioning you, not even giving u a proper greeting. “why didn’t you pick up?” he says with a blank stare. “well hello to you too” you scoff which doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he chooses to ignore it. “i was in the bathroom.” you lied. eren nods his head, looking away from the camera not saying anything. there’s a moment of silence before he breaks it and shifts his focus back onto you. “i wanna come over, i miss you.” you shake ur head laughing a bit at his statement. “you don’t miss me, you was just with some other girl like 2 days ago. if you really missed me you would’ve came to me instead of her” eren opens his mouth to speak, but you countinue talking. “eren, you know how i feel about being one of your lil hoes. if you wanna have multiple girls on your roster and pick and choose who u want to fuck on what days, you can get the fuck off my line because i’m not gonna be apart of that bullshit.”

eren sighs and doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. he thinks about his next actions and choice of words carefully. on one hand, he can argue with you, which would then lead to you not talking to him for a week, ignoring all his messages and calls and then eventually you’ll get tired of doing that and tell him to come over so y’all can “talk”. or he can just agree with whatever you were saying—and he chose the latter. his patience was wearing thin, he actually did miss you and he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances of seeing you with some stupid argument.

after thinking out his words he finally speaks “you’re right princess, i’m sorry” he says trying to sound as sympathetic as possible. honestly, eren didn’t give a fuck if u did or didn’t like his lifestyle, he does whatever the hell he wants to do. however, he didn’t want u to get any more upset with him than u already were, so he decided to make u feel like u had the upper hand so u would let him come over.

you were about to open your mouth to say some slick shit to him because you knew that these type of conversations between the two of you always ended up in some type of back and forth argument, so you were taken aback when he not only agreed with what you were saying, but even apologized. and eren never apologizes. “im right?” u question, confusion laced in your tone. “yea baby, you are and i’m sorry for making you feel that way. i’ll stop fucking around with all these girls i promise, just let me come over so i can make it up to you properly” after hearing all of eren’s empty promises and him actually “agreeing” with what u had to say for once, you folded immediately and told him to come over. you probably would’ve been standing on buisness a little bit more if u didn’t crave his touch so much but you did, you needed wanted him badly.

once you gave eren the green light that he can come over he was there in less than fifteen minutes and had you butt naked on your bed in less than five.

“keep your legs up, baby” eren instructs and u do as he says. you lift your legs up, locking your arms around them to keep them in place. eren begins to kiss all over the lower half of your tummy and slowly trails down to your pretty pussy. his kisses are so sweet, slow, and sensual that is has your toes curling in the air.

“mmm ren..f-feels good” you mutter out while letting out soft moans. eren hums, which sends a little vibration into you. eren knew u were close, even if u didn’t tell him u were. he was always so good at reading u like a book, but for now he decided to play dumb by pulling away and pretending like he didn’t know why u let out that little grunt when he did. before you can question why he stopped he starts rubbing on your puffy clit while looking into your eyes.

“y/n, i really am sorry that i didn’t come to you the other day. i don’t know what i was thinking princess, you think you can forgive me?” eren coos at you, with a little smirk on his face that goes unnoticed by you since your head is in the clouds with the way he’s rubbing on you. when he doesn’t get a response he slaps your pussy, earning a loud whine from you. “you didn’t answer me my love. you forgive me?” he asks again. “y-yes eren…i-i forgive you!” u hardly manage to let out.

eren smiles at you before he gives the lower half of your stomach another wet kiss. he moves his head back down so he can start making out with your pussy again. he’s being so sloppy with it but lord it feels so good. you try to push eren’s head away but he doesn’t let up and instead starts adding two of his long digits into your wet pussy while eating it.

you had no more strength left in your body to push his head away with the way he was eating and fingering your pussy. “erennnn im so closeee!!” you whine. and just when you were about to have your release, eren stops. he lifts his body up so he can sit down straight on the bed and he looks down at ur trembling body and just laughs.

“rennn what are u doing…?” u question quietly. eren rests his large palm on the right side of your cheek “i’m glad you forgive me, but you know…” he pretends to think for a moment, “i never got an apology from you for telling me what to do and you know i hate that bossy shit” his hands slides up to your neck and he gives it a little squeeze just enough to make you cough a bit. you rest ur smaller hands on top of eren’s, mentally hoping that you can make him forgive you and he’ll forget about all this and just make you cum.

“r-ren i swear i wont do it again im really sorry i-“ eren cuts you off and leans down to press a quick kiss onto your lips that were now swollen from you biting on them previously. he lets go of your neck and gives you his signature annoying (but sexy) smirk and god you wished you could slap that stupid look off his face, but you’re in such a weak state right now from how he was eating you out </3.

“show me how sorry you are and maybe i’ll think about forgiving you, sound good princess?”

[hsjazebel]

Desperate part 1*

Word count: 2387

A/n: This is the first part of a series. It’s the first time I’ve written in a long time so I hope you like it! Also I would like to thank @gurugirl for her help which was very important to me!💘

Content Warning: this is a dbf story so if you don’t like these kind of things please just don’t read it! 18+, age gap (15 years), female masturbation - that’s all for this part.

main masterlist | desperate masterlist

You never had so-called daddy issues as you always had a good relationship with your father, but there was something about that man with green eyes that made you feel desperate.

Your father had a large group of friends and they often organized parties and lunches or dinners together, but you never liked these things because there was no one of your age since everyone had younger children and the same age as your sister (so she often abandoned you to be with her friends) and because of this, you found everything very boring.

That is until a new figure appeared in the middle of a barbecue in your backyard: a handsome, curly-haired man with green eyes that seemed to peer into your soul.

You were sure you had never seen this man before because if you had you would definitely remember him given how amazingly handsome he was.

You were peacefully sunbathing on a lounger by the pool while continuing to watch videos on TikTok until your father arrived to interrupt your peace. “Y/n, I wanted to introduce you to someone! Harry. He arrived yesterday from London and as soon as I told him I was having a barbecue at home he wasted no time and arrived. Harry, this is my daughter Y/n!”

As soon as you lay eyes on Harry, your jaw nearly drops. You stand up and offer your hand to the man. “Nice to meet you, Harry.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m surprised James has a daughter your age.”

You laugh at his joke; it was true many of your parents' friends were surprised when you said you were 23, given that both your parents were not yet 50.

Your hand is still in contact with Harry's and you honestly don't want to take it away, his hand was so big compared to yours and it was so soft and smooth. And then his beautiful voice with his English accent… oh god! You had always had a weakness for the English accent and hearing it on Harry you could say that you would imagine entering heaven like this.

“Let's say that Alice and I didn't wait long to get married and start a family, and she's not that big, she's still my little princess.” Your father's voice brings you back to reality and you feel Harry's hand slip away from yours. “Darling, Harry and I are going back to the others, I'll call you when lunch is ready!” And with that, he kisses you on the head and leaves with Harry not before the man with green eyes says goodbye to you.

After eating you decide to go back into the house to lie down for a while; staying in the sun all day had made you tired and in any case after lunch you always had the habit of taking a nap and the fact that your parents are having a party outside in your garden certainly won't stop you.

You get into the shower to get rid of the chlorine from the pool and also to cool off from all the heat today and finally get into your bed.

There's just one problem: after spending twenty long minutes tossing and turning in bed, you can't sleep, so you decide to do what you always do when you can't sleep: use your fingers to pleasure yourself. You slide your shorts down along with your panties and open your legs. You go straight to your clit because you know it's the fastest way to bring you to release and you start twisting your fingers quickly bringing dirty thoughts to your mind. But the only thing that appears in your head is the penetrating gaze of the English man you met not many hours ago and who is in your garden right now. You start to think about how good his hands would feel on you and how deep his voice would be as he whispers dirty things in your ear. Or how good his tongue would feel on your pussy and how quickly it would bring you to orgasm – because you could swear that man would know how to make a woman feel good. And so within a few minutes, you feel that feeling in your lower belly and you reach your orgasm with Harry in your mind.

You immediately feel tired all over your body and fall asleep soon after.

-

You didn't think you were that tired, but you were wrong because you woke up and the first thing you see when you open your eyes is your dog, Chery, lying on your legs - which you didn't even know how he got into your room seeing as the door was closed - and the alarm clock on your bedside table read 5:32 pm. You get out of bed and go to wash your face to try to remove some traces of sleep. Soon after you dress in a white top and a pair of shorts, pick up your dog, and go down to the living room.

As soon as you enter you notice from the glass doors overlooking the garden that all the guests have now left, but the thing that immediately catches your eye is Harry sitting on the sofa with your dad watching a football match. “Good morning sleeping beauty!” Your dad greets you.

“Mmh good morning,” you greet, putting your dog down and she jumps directly onto the sofa, placing himself next to Harry.

“There will be 5 of us this evening, Harry is also staying for dinner.”

“Yes, your father and I have a lot of time to catch up on,” Harry tells you with his beautiful smile that makes those pretty dimples of his appear that you want to touch with your index; and then those hands with which he is caressing Chery with… oh lord! Those same hands you fantasized about a few hours ago, with his long fingers and - ok maybe you shouldn't have thought so much about your father's friend like that but it wasn't your fault if he looked like a Greek god.

It's your father's voice that brings you back to reality, “I was thinking you could make your own special pasta, that dish is really delicious!”

“Oh, yes of course!”

Harry looks at you smiling and says, “I love pasta! I can't wait to taste it."

-

The dinner goes very well, you hear some anecdotes about your father's life as a teenager and you also discover that he was the most wanted boy at university! “I swear I remember being in the cafeteria one day and I heard this group of girls talking about how sexy James was and I was like what?? Are we talking about the same person?” Harry laughs.

And your father being the touchy man he is replies, “You're just jealous because they were talking about me and not you! If maybe at 21 you hadn't had long hair you would have seen that girls would have talked about you too!"

“Hey don't talk like that about my long hair,” Harry says putting a hand on his heart pretending to be hurt by your father's words.

And the evening continues like this, with constant banter between Harry and your father even when dinner is over and they decide to go out on the patio to drink a glass of whiskey while your mother goes to bed and you and your sister retire to your room.

"So Harry isn't that bad right?" Your sister starts. “If he wasn't Dad's friend I would also tell you to flirt with him.” Your eyelids widen at this statement and she continues, “Oh come on don't make that face, I know you think he’s sexy as hell.”

Well, actually your sister wasn't entirely wrong. “I can't deny he's handsome but I would never hit on him! He's dad's friend, like you said, and he'll be twice my age!"

“Yeah y/n as you say, but I know he has already enchanted you with his green eyes and his English accent! Goodnight and try not to dream about it,” she winks at you and walks out of your room leaving you alone.

You quickly realized that sleeping so much in the afternoon wasn't a great idea because you obviously weren't sleepy now and so you turned on the television to watch a few episodes of Friends while putting on a face mask.

After 5 episodes the tiredness was finally making itself felt so you decide to go to sleep, but you realize that the bottle of water on your bedside table is empty, and since you already know that you will wake up at night to drink, you take the bottle and go down to the kitchen to fill it up and finally, you can go to sleep afterward.

But what you don't expect when you get to the kitchen is to see Harry sitting on the couch reading a book. You remain frozen in your place for a moment, partly out of fear because certainly at this time of night, you weren't expecting anyone up, and also because you weren't expecting to see him.

He gives you a sweet smile as soon as he sees you, “Oh hi y/n! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

“No, don't worry, I just didn't expect to see you here." You say as you walk behind the kitchen island to fill the bottle.

“Oh yes since while your father and I were talking it got late he offered me to stay here for the night and I accepted,” he follows you with his gaze as he closes the book and places it on the table placed in front of the sofa. “Sorry again for scaring you, I didn't think I'd find anyone awake at this hour. By the way, why are you awake?”

You finish filling the bottle by taking a sip and then reply, “I realized my bottle was empty so I came down to fill it. And I could ask the same question to you, why aren't you sleeping?”

"I wasn't sleepy either and I remembered that when I entered the house I had seen a bookshelf and I decided to stay here and read a bit, trying to get myself to sleep."

You approach the sofa where he is sitting, "What book did you choose?”

He takes it from the table and shows you the cover, "Dostoevsky's White Nights, I love this book."

Your eyes widen in surprise, "Oh my god it's my favorite book too! In fact, for the record, that book is mine.”

“So sorry for borrowing it without telling you,” he laughs. “So you like Russian literature?”

“We can say that I love literature in general, especially the classics. In Russian literature I especially love Dostoevsky and Tolstoy," you reply, sitting on the sofa, even if a little far from where Harry is.

“I've never read anything by Tolstoy, maybe I could ask you for some advice.”

“I would be more than happy to help you!”

So you start talking about this and that. You discover that he has a degree in economics and management and has his own company in London. He met your father at the university where they were both doing a master's degree.

“And what can you tell me about yourself? Do you study or work?" At this point, you both had moved a little closer to each other.

“I actually do both. I have been studying fashion marketing in Milan for two years and in the meantime, I work for an Italian fashion magazine!” You've always liked talking about what you study because it's been a great passion of yours since you were little and you still can't believe that you're doing your dream job.

“So you live in Milan? I have been there many times and I love that city as I love all of Italy.”

“Yes, I live in Milan but I always come back here in the summer to be with my family. And I love Italy too, everyone is so hospitable and nice!”

"You can say it for sure! And why did you decide to study in Italy from California? If I may ask,” he asks curiously.

“In reality, I have always liked the world of fashion and when I finished school I was sure of what I wanted to do. Then talking to Mum and Dad I tried to convince them to let me study abroad but Dad didn't seem very convinced, then in the end Mum convinced him and I started looking for a good course of study. I wasn't sure from the beginning about going to Milan but then thinking about it, that is the cradle of fashion and so I made my decision!”

“Wow, I'm really impressed y/n! And can you also speak Italian?”

“Well, I had to learn it to live by it even though my pronunciation isn't that perfect.”

“I also learned Italian during my business trips. It's a frequent destination and I've made a few friends who have taught me something!”

You end up talking about your experiences in Italy until you notice from the windows that the sky is starting to lighten, a sign that the sun will come out soon. Harry notices too and lets out a small laugh when you let out a yawn, covering your mouth with your hand, “Sorry, I think sleep is kicking in now,” you laugh too.

"Yes, you are right. I didn't realize how much time had passed. Maybe now it's time to go to sleep even if soon I think someone in your family will get up."

You nod in agreement with him, "Yes, you are right. I think it's time for bed!” You stand up and he does the same.

“Goodnight or rather buonanotte!” He tells you with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen.

“Buonanotte!” you reply and so you turn and walk towards the stairs to go back to your room, bringing to mind the words your sister had said to you hours before, “Try not to dream about him”. Maybe it will be a little difficult because when you finally get into your bed and close your eyes you see beautiful dimples and green eyes.

[traumawhomst]

Vampire v Hunter Fledgling let’s goooo

Tw: Reader is fatally wounded and dies but it is not shown graphically.

Honestly it was cute in the beginning, to be singled out by a Hunter, it hadn’t happened in centuries. It was a bit of an ego boost to think his name was still being spread.

The first time he sees them he almost coos, looking at this twee Hunter, all serious in their leathers, a black mask staring at Him across the room. What really piqued his interest was the fact that they never spoke.

Their first fight was more, well, a play fight for him if he was honest. He threw insults and witticisms trying to get a reaction from the Hunter with no luck. No matter how much he mocked and belittled them, they never once spoke back. Or really make noise other than grunts or slight groans due to exertion. It was charming actually, so many Hunters had their little speeches ready, about their tragic life or to mock Him, or worse go on a tirade about ‘good’ and ‘evil’. Those ones never lasted long, too caught up in their egos to focus on the extremely hard task of actually killing a vampire.

If they’re silent well, that means business, a single minded focus that He could respect. So he lets them live after the first fight. A reward for tracking him down when so many had failed in the first place, something to soften the failure of trying to kill him. He figured he’d never see them again, and he was feeling generous.

Oh but you had to keep finding Him didn’t you? Second time you ambushed him he chalked it to dumb luck, and fought you off with him seriously pulling his punches. You were still silent and nothing he seemed to say got you to crack. The third time was just annoying, he was headed to a party hosted by a dear friend, only to find you waiting right outside for him. He didn’t kill you that time, mostly because he didn’t want to be more late because than he already was.

The fourth time you appeared he was completely done with the situation. It has been fun the first few times but it was starting to seem like you needed a harsher lesson. He was going to just break a limb or something, force you to stop for a while.

And then you winged him, the spike firmly lodged in his left arm. That’s when he was done playing. Faster than you could see he moved forward and threw you into the nearest wall.

It was pitiful, even if he didn’t have much pity at the moment, to see you on your side breathing ragged your body too hurt to even curl into yourself. He pulled out the stake complaining about his shirt and the hole left behind as he strolled up to the Hunter who was trying and failing to reach their cross-bow stake launcher, and He stepped on it, breaking it with a satisfying crunch.

The Hunters hand fell and their body stilled as he got closer.

“Honestly, if a vampire beats you three times you should learn your lesson. I was being quite generous with you, but the ‘indomitable human spirit etcetera’,” he said his tone bored, as he prodded at the Hunter’s quivering body. “That would be the shock settling in,” he said blithely, going to stand up before changing his mind. “Actually,” which was the only warning you got when he pulled off the mask and you closed your eyes waiting for the killing blow.

When you looked at Him, abject horror was not what you expected to see on his face. Had you been injured that bad? You don’t think he got your face. The Vampire’s face was glued to yours and for a moment you were unsure if the silence was worse than a quick death.

“You’re eleven!” He balked pulling back for a second. He was of course off by a decade more or less, but the thought was still mildly annoying.

“Who’s letting you do this? Where did you get your equipment? Where in gods name are your parents?”

From your limited prospective he seemed to be having a complete mental breakdown. He kept speaking in some language you didn’t recognize as he looked over your body again and again. Then his eyes seemed to get wider as he remembered that you were in fact dying at the moment. There was no hospital near enough even with his supernatural speed it wouldn’t be enough time, even if someone came at this very moment he didn’t like your odds of survival.

Part of you relaxed when he finally bit down on your wrist, some of it due to his venom, but the other smaller part who was just ready for the pain to end.

You had not expected to come to, still laying on the ground as a seeping cold numbness grew. Your body hurt but not like it had before, somehow this pain was more terrifying. You spoke for the first time, asking in a broken voice what he’d done to you.

He on the other had just seemed relieved to see you awake. “I saved you darling,” he said running a hand over your head. “You don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

How big of a lie it was.

[planetpedri]

If you want to — Lamine Yamal.

Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lamine noticed you hadn’t been sleeping and offers to spend the night with you so you aren’t alone. But you hadn’t expected his presence to relax you so much.

Word Count: 1.8K

Disclaimer/s: all fluff <3 talks of not sleeping (insomnia), cursing.

A/N: This is based off “If you want to” by Beabadoobee!

A nudge to your shoulder had snapped you to attention, your heart rate skyrocketing as you’d just been woken from a half-sleeping state. Rubbing your tired eyes, you turn your attention to your best friend, your eyebrows furrowed. “What? Did I miss something?”

A quiet chuckle leaves Lamine’s lips as he nods his head to the rest of the classroom. Everyone was packing up their things before shuffling their way out of your maths class.

“You practically slept through the whole period.” Lamine notes as you begin putting your own things into your backpack.

Even then, you were moving at a sluggish pace. “My bad.” You sigh, tugging on the metallic zipper with an irritated huff. It’d got caught on the fabric, not budging no matter how harshly you tugged on it.

Before you could lose your temper, Lamine gentle takes the black backpack from your grasp. You watch with a frown as he slowly and gently fixes it, zipping it all the way down without any more of a struggle.

He hands it back with a teasing look, “next time don’t try to rip it apart and maybe it’ll cooperate?”

“Shut up.” You huff, standing up to tug the straps onto your shoulders.

Exiting the classroom, you walk beside Lamine. It was now lunch time, which meant you had the whole thirty minutes to possibly nap in the Library while the athlete got his fair share of carbs in.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” The boy beside you asks, his eyebrows dipped in concern.

Chewing on your bottom lip you reply honestly, “three or four, give or take. Probably closer to three.”

You wish you were joking, but unfortunately your insomnia was taking a tole on you. Getting worse and worse since the school year had started. It was pretty evident in your face as well, as Lamine had pointed out a few times before. Large purple eye bags and heavy eyes had now become your normal. No makeup could conceal the tired look that was always on your face.

Lamine nods his head slowly, opening the light washed doors for the both of you. He says your name in a drawled out tone, cocking his head to the side as he watches you walk past him and into the bustling cafeteria, “you gotta get more sleep, man.”

“I know that!” You groan, “but I just can’t sleep, like ever. It sucks too because I get so bored, but my brain just doesn’t shut off.”

“What if I come over tonight? I’ll hang out with you and we can study for the exam on Monday, maybe it’ll tore you out?” Lamine suggests, his smile genuine as he grabs the red trey before entering the short line for food.

“Really?” You perk up, “I mean, only if you want to, don’t feel obligated or anything.” You add on quickly, grabbing your own trey.

Lamine laughs, “if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have suggested it.” He grins, his elbow lightly tapping your bicep, sending a flurry of something new to your stomach. Something you definitely needed to ignore.

—

That night, Lamine texted you to inform you he’d be over right after he helped his mom clean up dinner. You smiled as you typed back a quick response to let him know the door would be unlocked.

It’d taken very little convincing for your parents to give the all okay when you’d asked if Lamine could stay over, as it was a very normal thing between you since you were kids. Plus, it helped that it was a Friday night.

You were sitting comfortably on your bed, the TV on and playing season three of Criminal minds (your second rewatch of the month), when your door opened without a knock. Lamine’s pajama clad figure entering soon after.

“Hey—“ He stops short, looking to the TV with a disappointed look. “Didn’t you just finish season fifteen like.. last week?”

“Technically, five days ago actually.” You shrug, watching as he makes his way around the bed, setting his backpack on the edge of the bed before slipping onto the bed.

He grabs the remote, pausing the episode. “Have you ever considered that damn show is why you can’t sleep?” He quirks his eyebrow, pressing the red button at the top of the remote, turning the TV black.

“Hey—! I was—whatever, ugh.” You slump back onto your many pillows with a huff of air. “It is just background noise, honestly.”

“Whatever you say..” Lamine sighs, reaching for his laptop in his backpack, pausing and turning to you, “are you going to get yours or..”

You blink, realizing you’d been staring at him without a thought in your head. “Oh! Right.. Homework and studying.. how fun.” Not.

For the next thirty minutes you attempted to focus on the work in front of you, but your mind was trailing off to earlier that day. You’d felt a strange sensation at his touch, one you hadn’t felt before and it was consuming your thoughts now more than ever as he sat beside you, your legs touching.

With a defeating groan, you close your laptop. “I can’t do this. I’m so sick of school, I just want to sleep.” Your frown deepens on your lips as you tilt you head to the side, resting it against the wall as Lamine mirrors you.

“Then sleep?” He offers obviously. “Without the TV on.” He quickly adds, a small grin on his face.

“I’m gonna hit you.” You scowl, but begin to put your laptop and textbook onto the side table.

Lamine does the same, setting them aside and getting comfortable under your large white blanket. Once the two of you were settled, you close your eyes, begging sleep to find you easily.

It doesn’t.

You toss and you turn and you huff and puff, yet you cannot sleep.

A loud yelp escapes your lips as Lamine rolls over, placing an arm around your waist and securing you against him, forcing you to stop moving.

“You’re being loud.” He grumbles through a sleepy voice. And that was enough to shut you up.

Lying in his arms, your heart beat rapidly slowing in your chest the longer he held you. And then the unexplainable happened, you fell asleep, a small smile on your face at the feeling of his soft breaths on your shoulder.

—

Your eyes flutter open, immediately clamping shut as the bright sunlight that burned your eyes. Letting out a loud whine, you move to face away from the sun, only to find your movement halted by the weight of an arm around you.

Right.

You open your eyes again, slower this time as they adjust to the sight in front of you. Lamine was silently scrolling on TikTok, his phone resting against your pillow, his head still resting beside yours.

A smile creeps onto your face, “what are you doing?” You laugh, moving your head to catch sight of his.

“Watching TikTok, what does it look like?” He quips, a humor filled grin on his face as he stares into your eyes, drinking in the way the sunlight hits off your face. He finds himself getting lost in the way your eyes are twinkling with amusement.

Clearing your throat, you face his phone once again, “well turn up the sound, weirdo.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He says, clicking the side of his phone till it’s at the perfect level. Butterflies attack your stomach at his words, but you push the feeling aside as you two watch his for you page, laughing at the stupid and funny ones, occasionally teasing him when an edit of himself pops up.

It’s not until your eyes flicker up to the time when you gasp, “Lamine! It’s 1:30? Why did you let me sleep in so long!?”

“I didn’t want to wake you!” Lamine argues defensively, “you needed your sleep.” He says the last sentence a lot more softly, more out of care than to actually prove a point.

Your bottom lip juts out, “wait, thats sweet. Appreciate it.” You grin, turning around to place a peck on his cheek, which was a normal thing you did, but this time he hadn’t expected it.

Lamine turns to face you, just as your lips were supposed to connect with his cheek, his lips are suddenly in the way. Soft lips instead of soft cheeks catches you off guard, your eyes widening as you quickly pull away.

“Oh fuck—“ You stutter out, “i’m so—“

“No! No—it’s okay!” He’s stumbling over his own words, both of your cheeks are flushed as you look at each other in shock.

It’s quiet for a moment, both of you staring at one another with slightly parted lips, the silence deafening. You were still in his arms, he was still holding onto you, neither of you dared to move.

“I’m so sorry, I genuinely didn’t mean to do that.” You finally cough out, your eyes narrowing with worry. Did you just fuck everything up?

Lamine’s chocolate eyes soften, “don’t feel sorry.”

Maybe you were reading too into things, but was he trying to say something more?

“I just kissed you..?” You cringe at the way the words that come from your mouth, you sounded like an idiot. This was humiliating.

Lamine’s mouth opens, then closes, then he gives you that look. The one he gave you every time you were slow to catch a meaning behind something. The one that made his lips pull back and his cheeks puffed a little. A look you loved.

God, you loved it. You loved him.

“What? Why are you making that face?” You say through a nervous giggle.

“I don’t want you to be sorry for kissing me, I just want you to do it again.” Lamine says, a bit more confidence in his voice as he does so. He was looking at you with longing in his eyes, and you couldn’t deny him any longer.

Your lips press against his again, feeling the way his lips form a smile as he kisses you right back. His hand snakes through your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. The second you pull away, he’s peppering your lips with mini kisses, grinning like an idiot all the while.

You fall back against your pillows, a lovesick smile on your face as he leans over you, brushing stray strands of your bed hair out of your face.

“You look like a goof.” You tease, hand reaching up to touch his that was cupping your face.

“You’re not allowed to make fun of me, I just helped you get the best sleep of your life,” he points out, mater-of-factly before adding, “loser.”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his hand away, “ohhh, don’t let it get to your head.”

After a few more bickering exchanges, you both agree to start your day officially, both exiting your room to go make some ‘breakfast’.

Sickeningly sweet smiles on both of your faces as you make your way downstairs, Lamine’s hand never leaving yours.

(DT) @halfwayhearted ILY. Thank you for helping me on this my bonkkkk💟.

[httpsdana]

Hey!! Could u write a jamal x reader with promt 90 and 14 where they're in a relationship (like literally everyone knows it) but like jamal acts so cold to reader in public like he doesn't know her which makes reader feel like he's just with her cuz he bored or something (idek what I'm saying atp 😭 but basically angst BUT ends in fluff)

Anyways Thank you!!!!🤍(Btw LOVE LOVEE ur writing i literally eat it uppp 😽😽)

Protector~Jamal Musiala

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

thank you sm for your sweet message 😙🫶🏻 enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers i write for

14-"I missed you"

90-"honestly? I am so fucking tired of being your secret."

She was used to the cameras, the flashing lights, and the whispers that followed whenever she was with Jamal. Dating him, a rising football star, came with a lot of attention, but it was something y/n thought she could handle. However, what she couldn’t handle, what weighed on her heart more than anything, was the way Jamal acted in public.

In private, things were perfect. He was sweet, thoughtful, and made her feel like the only person in the world. But the moment they stepped out together, it was like he put up a wall between them.

Jamal barely acknowledged her presence when fans or teammates were around, and it made her feel invisible. y/m tried to brush it off at first, telling herself he was just being professional, that he was trying to protect their privacy. But as the days passed, doubt started to creep in.

Maybe Jamal was only with hrr because he was bored. Maybe she was just a distraction from his busy life. Those thoughts kept spiraling in her mind, making her chest ache with insecurity.

They were out with his friends at a casual gathering, the kind where everyone was laid back, just hanging out and enjoying each other's company. y/n stood near Jamal, but he didn’t even glance her way.

He laughed and joked with his friends, and while she tried to engage in the conversation, it felt like she was on the outside looking in.

Her heart sank as she watched him, a knot forming in her stomach. Was this it? Was this what their relationship had become, just her standing there, waiting for him to notice?

y/n excused herself from the group, needing some air, and headed out to the quiet balcony. The cool breeze brushed against her skin, but it did nothing to calm the storm of emotions brewing inside her.

Maybe he wasn’t as into her as she thought. Maybe she was just something to pass the time, a phase he would eventually get over. The thought made her throat tighten with unshed tears.

She loved Jamal, but she couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when he didn’t even acknowledge her in public.

She leaned against the railing, trying to gather her thoughts when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Jamal walking towards her, his expression unreadable.

“Hey,” he said softly, standing beside her.

“Hi,” she replied, her voice a bit sharper than she intended.

He glanced at her, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been quiet.” he asked

y/n let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “That’s funny coming from you.” she said, her voice sharp and cold

Jamal’s face fell, confusion flashing in his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked clueless

She bit her lip, debating whether she should even say anything. But the hurt inside her had been building for too long, and she couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“Do you even notice me when we’re out?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with pain.

“Because I feel like you don’t. I’m always just… there, but you never act like I matter when we’re in public.” she murmured, looking away from him

Jamal’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? That’s not true.”

She sighed, turning to face him fully.

“Jamal, every time we’re with your friends or around other people, it’s like I don’t exist to you. You act like I’m not even there, and it makes me wonder if you’re just with me because you’re bored.” she argued, letting the anger in her out

His expression shifted from confusion to hurt as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch her arm. “I would never do that to you.”

She looked down, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened to spill over.

“Then why do you act like that? Like you’re embarrassed to be with me or something.” her voice weak as she spoke

Jamal’s grip on her arm tightened, and he gently pulled her toward him, his other hand lifting her chin so she’d look at him. His eyes were filled with a mix of guilt and sadness.

“I’m not embarrassed,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was making you feel like that.”

y/n shook her head, pulling away slightly. “Then why? Why do you keep pushing me away when we’re around other people? honestly, I'm so fucking tired of being your secret” she said, her voice cracking at the end

Jamal let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I thought… I thought I was protecting you. I didn’t want you to get dragged into the spotlight because of me. I know how crazy the media can be, and I didn’t want to make things harder for you.” he said, his voice sofr

She blinked, the knot in her chest loosening slightly as his words sank in.

“But I don’t care about the media, Jamal. I care about you. I just want to feel like I matter to you, even when we’re not alone.” she said

He stepped closer again, cupping her face in his hands, his touch gentle but firm.

“You matter more than anything to me,” he said, his voice low and serious.

“I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like you don’t. I guess I thought by keeping some distance in public, I was protecting what we have, but I didn’t realize I was hurting you in the process.” he said gently, his voice sincere and honest

y/n swallowed hard, the sincerity in his eyes breaking down the walls of doubt she had built.

“I just need to know that I’m not some temporary thing for you.” she said, her voice barely above whisper

Jamal’s thumb brushed against her cheek, wiping away the tear that had finally fallen. “You’re not temporary. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” he smiled softly

His words made her heart skip a beat, and for the first time in days, the ache in her chest began to ease. Jamal pulled her into his arms, holding her close, and she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I’ll do better,” he promised, his lips brushing against her hair. “I’ll make sure you never feel like that again.”

She stayed in his arms for a few moments, letting his warmth soothe the lingering hurt.

"I missed you" she mumbled against his chest, making his heart clench at her confession, not aware of the distance that has formed between them because of his actions

"I missed you more baby. I'm sorry about everything I've done" he mumbled back, his hand running down her back as a soothing gesture

When she finally pulled back, she looked up at him with a small smile.

“I love you,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Jamal’s face lit up, his eyes softening as he leaned down to kiss her, slow and tender.

“I love you too,” he murmured against her lips, his arms wrapping around her tighter.

In that moment, all the doubt, all the insecurity, melted away. Jamal’s love for her was real, and despite his mistakes, he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right. y/n knew that the two of them could get through anything as long as they were together.

[thedreamlessnights]

Fixation

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW

Synopsis: When a mistranslated ancient spell goes wrong, you're forced to suffer the consequences. Astarion takes a keen interest in your... predicament.

Warnings and tags: 18+ (and I cannot stress this enough), aphrodisiac spell, Spawn!Tav, established relationship, possessiveness. Brief referrals to the Rite of Profane Ascension and Cazador. Fingering, oral sex (receiving), blood drinking, multiple orgasms, slightly rough sex. Brief overstimulation, praise, mild degradation, uses of the terms 'pet' and 'consort.'

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: And here's the second of my parallel aphrodisiac fics for Non-Ascended vs. Ascended Astarion! It was honestly very interesting to write the differences between them. The Non-Ascended one is much softer than this - please mind the tags!

The book must be hundreds of years old, but it feels warm in your hands. You’ve perused it inside and out, practically memorizing the faded runes. Fixation. It’s a weakness of yours. 

Still, how often is it that you find an ancient book of spells? Who knows if you might discover some long-lost secret buried within the pages. And, yes: you’re bored. 

Your messy translations are not ideal for this sort of thing, which is exactly why you’ve chosen a basic spell to start with. It’s mid-afternoon, quiet and still, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating the room. 

The long-forgotten words flow from your mouth like honey - as if they’ve been waiting for centuries just to be said. Light and sweet, they settle into the room and linger for just a moment. Some spells can be felt in the very air, manifesting as an electric haze that tickles the lungs, but not this one. When the sound of your voice fades away, the only sign that the spell has worked is a gentle heat that settles in your skin.

For a long moment, you kneel, studying the small scrape on your finger and waiting for something to happen. If you’d translated correctly, this should have been a basic healing spell with enough capacity to mend small cuts and burns. An increasingly pleasant heat builds in your veins, but the scrape remains untouched.

It should have worked by now. But if it wasn’t a healing spell, then…

Your eyes turn back to the pages, flickering between the references you’d found and the runes. Something connects. A line you hadn’t seen. A word you hadn’t added. The runes on the page - they’re not for healing, like you’d thought. But if they don’t mean health, then…

You stare at it a moment longer.

Lust. 

“Oh. Oh, gods.”

You rise to your feet like you’ve been slapped. The heat is bearable for now but growing incessantly, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. No counterspell. No healing potion. Anything you try could just as well make it worse. Which poses the question: what the hells are you going to do?

You suck in a deep breath.

First things first: you need to get out of this room. The air is feeling like it might strangle you. 

The chill of the hall greets you sweetly as you pace up and down the walkway, weighing your options. A spell this simple shouldn’t last long. It’ll most likely linger for only a few hours, then dissipate. It doesn’t seem dangerous. It’s not painful. Not yet, at least.

You could lock yourself in the cellar for the night, but that isn’t exactly appealing. The bedroom wouldn’t work, either. It’s Astarion’s room too, after all.

Astarion. Just the thought of him sends sparks flaring through you. It ladles heat into a very pleasant spot in your abdomen, and something flutters deep in your gut. Gods, what you wouldn’t give for him to be touching you.

But he cannot find out about this. By the hells, he can’t ever find out, because if he does, you will never live this down. Which leaves two options: you can either go to dinner and attempt to act like you’re fine, or you can try to hide away in one of the rooms and wait it out. 

Neither one is ideal. Being physically near him, he’ll be able to read you like a book - which makes dinner a very dangerous concept. But if you neglect to show up at all? He’ll be even more suspect. He’ll certainly seek you out and find out the truth in the end.

So. Dinner it is. 

You’ll just have to keep yourself composed, somehow. If only doing was as easy as thinking. But do you really have a choice?

No, you think. 

You don’t.

As soon as he’s through the door, Astarion’s eyes are on you. They always seem to be, these days. Ever since the Ascension. His dark consort, his right hand. His, for whatever he wants. He never seems to see you like he used to, but the sting of that faded long ago. Another thing lost to the ritual.

“Hello, my treasure,” he greets.

You offer him a smile as he takes your hand, pressing a kiss to the skin. You can only hope he doesn’t notice the fear in your eyes or the way you’re trembling. 

The gods must be on your side, because he’s distracted. The moment he releases you, he’s talking with a servant about something or other. You can barely keep up with the politics of the city on a normal day, much less on one with flaming lust in your stomach.

So you follow him to the table like a puppet, moving to your usual seat opposite his. It seems much closer together than usual. Everything does. He could be across the room, and you’d still feel like he was at your side, his breath at your neck. You’re almost grateful that the near-only things you can consume are blood and wine, because your trembling fingers are not fit to handle a knife.

After you’ve taken your seat, you have to put all of your attention into holding your glass. You’d try to act natural, but you can’t even remember what that feels like anymore. Does your skin look cold enough? Is your smile convincing? Is the picture you’re painting compelling, or will your imperfections give you away?

For a moment, Astarion’s attentions are focused on his papers. Then, with a sigh, he sets them aside and looks at you. He seems bored, more than anything. Not suspicious yet. “And how was your day, pet?” he asks.

Your grip tightens around your glass. “Good,” you manage to say. “I found a new book in the library.”

He raises a brow. “Did you?”

You nod, attempting to bury yourself in a sip of wine, but it doesn’t work. The more he looks at you, the more the feeling grows. Your hands are slick. Your mind feels clouded over. 

“A - ah, book of poetry.” Your voice shakes as you speak, and the betrayal of it is like a dagger in your chest.

He sets down his knife and fork. 

Already? you think, lightheaded and humiliated. Gods - you’d known he’d likely catch on sooner or later, but, really? Not even two minutes in? It’s pathetic.

But you aren’t going to give in yet. Astarion may have the winning card in his hand, but you’re determined to play this game for all it’s worth. So you set down the wine, fold your hands in your lap as if you aren’t struggling with keeping still, and give him your prettiest smile.

The glint in his eye grows. “Really?” he purrs, tilting his head. “I didn’t know you liked poetry.”

And as soon as he’s spoken, his voice is in your mind - words you’d thought you’d forgotten, pressing to the front of your thoughts. 

It’s a poem. A gift from Cazador.

The first time you’d seen his scars. 

“I…” Your voice chokes, and you swallow hard. “I don’t read it often. But I enjoy it, sometimes.”

He hums in response. His eyes are fixed on yours like a predator - watching your every move. Every blink. Every swallow. Every tremble. He’s waiting for you to break. 

You don’t. Not yet.

“And you?” you ask. “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” he muses, his hand gesturing indifferently. “The usual.”

But you don’t know how it is. He hasn’t told you a word about his work, and you’ve never invited yourself into it. He leans back in his seat, and his expression molds into something complacent as you struggle to find the right thing to say.

You decide that wine on your tongue will be much better than words. It’s rich and dark, mildly bitter, and heady. It lingers for a long moment after you’ve drunk, sloshing around your glass as you swirl it.

The end is coming. Your body is fighting you tooth and nail. Your hands are shaking, your mouth is dry, and your head is foggy. Setting the wine down shouldn’t be a difficult thing, but it feels like trying to thread a rose stem through the eye of a needle - painful and futile. 

Your wrist twitches. A tiny, incomprehensible mistake. The goblet nicks the edge of the table, your grip loosens, and the next thing you know, there’s wine everywhere. Bleeding over the top of the table. Dripping into your lap. Splashed over your chest. The taste of it is still in your mouth, bitter on your tongue.

“You’ve gotten clumsy, pet,” Astarion says. He places his hands on the table, pushes to his feet, and approaches with a languid stride, amused and possessive in his gaze. You meet his eyes, determined not to break.

He grabs a clean napkin and half-heartedly dabs the wine off of you, stopping to swipe a droplet off your chest with his finger. Then he lifts it into his mouth, never looking away. “You’re trembling,” he says.

“Am I?” Your voice is breathless. “That’s strange.”

His eyes narrow. “Are you feeling alright, dearest?” 

“Me?” you ask, your hands clenching into fists. “Of course I am.”

He stares at you. You stare at him. He raises a brow. You paste on your sweetest smile, just for him. 

“You know,” he sighs, circling behind you, “I do hate it when you lie to me.”

The feeling in your gut is ravenous now. You’re nothing short of feverish, buried in a haze of sheer need. You need him more than you have ever needed before. You will not let yourself have him.

You play this game with him because, no matter what he says, you know he wants you to. You slot yourself in as his pawn, settling into your place, competing with him even though the game is rigged from the start; all because he wants it. He wants you to lose, and to beg for him to touch you. And, gods help you, despite this cruel, vicious thing he’s become, you still want him. 

He reaches out to a loose strand of your hair, tucking it away behind your ear. “I want the truth,” he says, leaning in close. You’re shivering with desire. Every part of you wants him near. You fight the impulse to make a sound, and he steps away.

“I really am feeling fine,” you insist. 

His eyes pass over you. You can feel the way they trail along your features, both analytical and skeptical. His head tilts and he smirks, and you know you’ve lost. Just like he wanted you to. 

His hand comes up to cup your cheek. “Little love,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb along your jaw. His touch is warm, skimming against your skin. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament, haven't you?” The corner of his lips flick into a smile, but his eyes stay cold as ice. “I know lust when I see it.”

Then, he lets you go.

You want to beg him to come back.

“What a shame,” he muses. “I have so much work to do tonight. You’ll wait for me, won’t you, my sweet?”

You will. You don’t have any choice.

A small sound involuntarily chokes from your throat, and his eyes narrow. “Now, now,” he chides. “Be patient.”

He returns to the doorway, studying your appearance with a smug sort of satisfaction. “Oh, and darling?” he says. “Don’t you dare touch yourself.” 

He pulls the door shut after him, and you stare blankly ahead.

Gods. He’s going to drag this out. You know he will - he loves to see you squirm. But to tell you that you can’t touch yourself? It’s particularly cruel.

But this is where he wants you. You’d lost the game, and this is how you’re paying for it.

The time ticks by. The feeling in your gut grows. You have to squeeze the armrests of your chair to keep them from straying. Heat flushes through every part of your body.

It’s a strange thing, being warm. It’s been months since you’ve had warm blood in your veins. You’d almost forgotten how it felt. It only makes this sensation so much more overwhelming. 

It’s like the sun kissing your skin. It’s like fire, searing through your chest. It’s both pain and pleasure, mingling in your senses. More pleasure, perhaps, if you were allowed to touch yourself. You don’t dare to, not even once. Not even a little. No matter how much you want to.

When the door finally opens again, you let out a rush of air. Relief. Sheer relief. But Astarion doesn’t move toward you. He goes to the papers he’d left on the table, rummaging through them. He finds the one he wants, pauses, then glances at you.

“My, my. Look at you,” he remarks. “Gods below. You’re a mess, darling.”

It’s only then that you realize he’s not coming back yet. He’s not here to touch you.

“Astarion-”

The look he gives you silences your words. Your mouth snaps closed, and you try to resist the urge to sob.

“Patience,” he says. His tone is a warning, low and dark. “Or you’ll get nothing at all.”

The door shuts once more, and this time, a noise breaks free from your throat.

You should have just told him. You’d have lost the game all the same, but he might have taken pity on you. But you’d lied to him. You’d kept it hidden. You hadn’t begged.

His message is as clear as day. This is what you get. This is your punishment.

You’d just had to try out that spell book, hadn’t you? You couldn’t have left it alone? Now look at you. Shaking, clinging onto the chair so tightly that your fingers are beginning to go numb. You feel rabid. Whatever self-control is leashing you is beginning to slip.

Just hold on, you tell yourself. Just until he comes back.

So you wait. Your body feels like it’s on fire, but you wait. 

You’ve just begun to consider touching yourself, consequences be damned, when you finally hear the blissfully familiar sound of Astarion’s voice. 

“I’m here now, my dear,” he announces. “You can stop terrorizing the poor chair.”

He’s standing in front of you, looking down at you with a mix of desire and possessiveness. You have to stare at him for a good ten seconds before you realize that he’s actually there, not just a vision. That your torment will soon be over. 

His words finally connect with your mind and register somewhere within the mess of need. Your hands loosen from their grip, and a soft noise escapes from your lips. From pain or want, you don’t know.

“Kneel,” he says.

Your legs tremble when they stand, as if they might finally give out. You sink to your knees, barely feeling the hard stone beneath you.

Astarion takes two fingers and places them under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “My pet, do you want me?”

“Yes.” Your voice is hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

“Tell me.”

You swallow hard. “I - I want you.”

“Louder.”

“I want you.”

His head tilts. “Good.”

He drops his fingers. You want to scream at the loss of his touch.

“Get up,” he instructs.

You can barely move, but you do it. Your knees shake. You want to grab onto him for support, but you know you shouldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, his hand wraps around your waist. “Just look at you,” he murmurs, echoing his statement from earlier. His other hand comes up to your mouth, his thumb brushing against your lips. 

Then his hand on your waist trails up your back, up your neck, fisting into your hair. “And all for me.”

He pulls you close and kisses you hard. Bruising. His hand cups your cheek, his grip tightens in your hair. His lips are warm and soft and demanding, coaxing your mouth open as he walks you into the table. The back of your legs meet the edge and you pull away to sit, panting as he sets himself over you, straddling your hips.

His eyes are dark and hazy, trailing over you in a way that makes you shiver.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, trailing a finger along your cheek. His lips move to your jaw, trailing feather light kisses along the bone, and you tilt your head to give him full access to your neck. He hums an approval into your skin.

You barely feel it when his teeth sink in and draw blood. There’s only a faint flash of pain, a muddled sensation beneath your want. You feel his hand rest on your hip. His gentle, wet tongue, darting out to clean the wound.

If he doesn’t touch you soon, you’re sure you’ll combust.

“Astarion,” you breathe, gripping onto the back of his shirt. You know he heard you, but he keeps kissing down your throat, stopping at your collar bones to brush his lips over them. A sharp nip. An apologetic kiss to soothe the sting.

“Astarion, please,” you repeat.

“Hm?” He doesn’t bother to pull away. He simply undoes the lacing of your clothing without looking and tosses the outfit across the room.

“Touch me,” you beg.

At that, he finally stops kissing you and looks up at you, something dark and hungry simmering in his gaze. “Dearest, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he drawls, “but I am touching you.”

You’re in no mood to deal with this - not with the scorching flame inside that will not let up even for an instant. “You know what I mean,” you snap. “Please, gods. Touch me.”

But the more desperate you are, the more he pulls back from you. He gives you a look - half amused, half bored. “But I don’t know what you mean,” he says. “I can’t read your mind anymore, my sweet. Don’t you remember?”

Anger and frustration cloud your vision in a veil of red. A sharp noise chokes through your chest, and you tighten your grip on his shoulders, digging your nails into the skin. “Fuck me, Astarion. Please.”

The corners of his mouth flick into a self-satisfied smile. “You’re lucky I like you, little love,” he murmurs, easing your legs apart with his thigh, and you sigh in relief, relaxing into his touch as he returns to kissing your neck. “But you wouldn’t deny me a taste, surely?” he asks. “I want everyone in the city to hear you screaming my name.”

And then he drops to his knees.

You’re left shivering with need, so desperate that your vision seems to be clouding over. The top layer of your clothing has been removed, but you’re still in your smallclothes, and he of course takes his sweet time with you. The feel of his tongue through the fabric of your smalls, so desperately close to where you need him to be - but not there, not yet there - is all but maddening. You fix your hand into his hair and try to relax, but you’re so tightly-wound that you feel like a rope about to snap.

How the hells are you supposed to relax when the sweet friction of his mouth is pressing against your clit - when he’s on his knees for you, his grip on your thighs bruising and almost, almost perfect? You could come like this, riled up to the point of climax, but that would be too easy. He’d never let it be that easy.

Instead, he brings you to the verge of orgasm, bites at the tender flesh of your thigh, then pulls away.

“Gods,” you mutter, caught between feeling like the tiniest action will send you into waves of pleasure and simultaneously feeling like you’re going to black out. “Astarion-”

“Shh,” he says, still on his knees. “Relax, pet.”

Out of the two of you, he’s in the more vulnerable position, but you’d never know it from the way he’s practically holding you down on the top of the table - from the way his eyes are devouring you, practically daring you to protest. 

You know him. The more you rebel, the less he’ll give you. So you don’t. You force yourself silent and suck in a breath or two, trying to remember the way oxygen tastes, trying to keep the dam inside you from bursting open.

A small sob breaks free, but aside from that, you’re a statue. A lustful, slightly relaxed statue. It’s all you can give, and it must be enough, because he finally pulls your smalls off of you. 

They’re so wet from his tongue and from your arousal that they stick to you, and you can see the way his gaze darkens. The way he swallows, taking in a deep breath and setting them aside. He could keep you here all night, but he’d be torturing himself, too.

He starts slowly again, and with every graze of his warm fingers, with every brush of his skin against yours, your body bucks into his touch. It doesn’t matter where or how brief; it’s just the silky trailing of his fingertips over your abdomen, your body is still chasing the minimal pleasure his presence gives you. If it’s his thumb against your clit, your body still shudders the way you know he wants you to.

When his tongue finally, finally meets your clit, you let out a sharp gasp and have to physically stop yourself from following that feeling, from grinding against his mouth the way you so desperately want to. Your nails dig into the tablecloth, but you let him keep his own pace. His own agonizing, teasing pace. 

One finger, slipping inside of you, finding the electrifying spot inside of you that has you moaning his name, your hand tightening in his hair and your hips bucking of their own accord. Then one becomes two. A slow, even rhythm of thrusting that slowly grows harder, faster, deeper. 

He brings you right back to the edge, and this time, he lets you come. 

Your body tenses. Your grip tightens even more. He groans against you, and the vibrations of it course out through your skin. The rope of tension pulls and pulls and pulls until it finally snaps, leaving you shuddering and mindlessly crying out, his name leaving your mouth like a mantra. 

Just like he’d said it would. 

Your consciousness seems to float away from your body - a blinding, sharp pleasure that comes to you in a pulsing, ambrosial wave. When you come down, you’re still burning. The fire wanes a little, but won’t be sated. Not that easily. In many ways, it’s just like Astarion. Running you through, filling you with need, and not letting you go until it’s done with you.

When you come down, you find yourself with wet thighs and covered in sweat, your breath pulling unnaturally from your lungs until you’ve recovered. You’re still shaking, and Astarion is still between your legs - licking at sensitive skin. 

You whimper, and he finally pulls away, his pupils blown wide and an impatience to his expression. Possessiveness. Need. He rises to his feet and winds a hand in your hair, pulling your head back with a grip that borders on painful.

He doesn’t say a thing, but his gaze speaks volumes - the glittering, dark ruby of his eyes, the almost removed way he observes you, eyes trailing over your face. Studying how he’s ruined you, no doubt.

He releases his hold on you, and though you can see his erection through his trousers, his movements are slow - methodical, almost. When he speaks, his voice is low and dark.

“Come here, my sweet, little consort.”

And you do. With your still-shaking legs, you slide off the table and take a step closer, unsure how near he wants you. 

“Turn around,” he instructs. 

And you do.

You only register his hand on the nape of your neck when your cheek connects with something hard. The table. He’s bent you over it and is standing behind you, and the impact barely smarts in comparison to the heat that floods between your legs.

“You like it like this, don’t you?” Astarion muses, dragging a finger along your spine. “You want everyone to know who you belong to. You want me to fuck you into this table and let everyone hear how much you need me.”

And you can’t even argue with him. You can’t argue, because you know he’s right - and he knows it, too. 

You swallow hard, back arching toward his hand. “Yes.”

He’s silent for a moment, tracing his hand along your back. Then he presses his thumb to your clit and you mindlessly grind into him, barely resisting the urge to beg him to just fuck you already.

Then you hear fabric shifting, and your whole body tenses in anticipation of him. 

He’s not gentle, and he’s not tender. He sheathes himself into you in a single, harsh thrust that has you crying out, your hands scrabbling for something to grasp for support but finding nothing. 

“Gods,” he growls, his grip settling on your hips and pressing into the skin as he sets a rough, punishing pace. His voice is breathless when he speaks. “You look so pretty for me, pet. Bent over like this. Say my name for me, won’t you?”

You can barely choke out the sound between his thrusts, but it comes out of you nonetheless. “A… A-star-ion-” 

“Good,” he says, and then his pace turns brutal, every thrust sending your cheek scraping against the table. There’s pain, but you barely feel it - not against the burning pleasure of him inside you, filling you up, and not against the fire in your skin that’s building to a boiling point again.

Over and over.

His breathing is getting faster. His grip on you is ever tightening, sure to leave a number of tender bruises for the morning. He’ll kiss them, then, draw his fingers over them in admiration, but for now: he groans and grips at your hair again, and you sit there and take every inch he’s giving to you until you can barely stand it - the sweet, delectable friction of him inside you, the vulgar, wet noises that echo around the room. Evidence of how much you want him. How close you are.

“Tell - tell me you’re mine,” he says through gritted teeth.

“I’m yours.”

He thrusts even harder, and it vaguely occurs to you that you might not be able to walk tomorrow. You can feel the tell-tale signs of him getting closer - the tensing of his thighs, the panting as he approaches climax, the moans he’s letting out. He pauses mid-thrust and trembles for a moment before he slams back into you once, twice - three times.

That’s all it takes to send you over the edge with him, clenching around him, barely conscious of the table under you, barely conscious of the fact that both of you are in the dining room and almost certainly the servants are able to hear what he’s doing to you.

You can feel him seeping out of you, trickling down your thighs, and you go slack against the table, gasping and trying to remember how to breathe.

He finally releases your hair and pulls out of you, paying no mind to the way you wince.

You definitely won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

“What a good little pet you are,” he remarks, smoothing your hair away from your neck and placing a kiss to the nape. When he speaks again, his voice has gone to that pouty, condescending tone that he sometimes uses. “You wouldn’t dream of doing that to me again, would you, my treasure? Lying to me? Hiding your own pleasure from me? And at my table, nonetheless.”

You attempt an answer, but it comes out as nothing but a helpless whimper.

“What was that?” he asks. 

“No,” you breathe. 

“Good.”

He straightens, running a finger between your legs - no doubt studying the mess he’s made of you.

“Get up,” he says. “We need to get you cleaned up.”

You unstick yourself from the table, legs trembling, and as his gaze travels over you once more, you have a deep, sudden feeling in your gut. It’s too easy. Too easy for you. Even after all the torment you’d faced earlier, stranded and desperate in your chair, it’s not enough. He’s not done with you yet. 

And if you know him at all…

It’ll be surprising if he’s finished with you before morning.

[buzzcutlip]

hiiii! can I get a request for lip with a shy!reader where they like know each other from school but it’s like later seasons lip like working at the shop or the construction job and she starts to develop a crush on him but he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her so he distances himself and dates other girls and she has to watch from the sidelines until a guy asks her out so she goes for it and lip gets jealous and realizes his feelings. i’m in an angsty pining jealousy mood but with a happy ending still if that makes sense! but honestly feel free to run with it if it’s something you’re interested in writing bc I love your writing! 💗💗

Hi anon! I love this prompt, thank you very much for sending it my way! <3

This is a very first time I'm writing something with our dear boy Lip Gallagher, and I hope I'm not messing it all up.

Lip Gallagher/Fem!Reader Mature 1561 words

You admired Lip Gallagher. He was smart, intelligent, witty, and—alive. Despite the , he made it to college. You didn’t know the details but heard people talking about those nasty Gallaghers. You saw him take his little brother, Liam, to classes, to your study group. The little boy living temporarily in a dormitory made you sick with worry, but it was obvious that Lip took great care of him. You mostly felt for Lip—that he, as young as he was, had to take on his parents' responsibilities. And still, he did so great at school and had two jobs on top of it. He went home for weekends to help around the house. But that life sucked him back in, never giving him a solid chance, as much as Lip fought for it. He left the school, left the crime scene behind, and left an empty space in your chest. You never told him how you felt. Never wanted to, anyway.

Occasionally, you still meet each other at parties he gets invited to—or invites himself to—and you chat easily, sharing a drink or two. You’re happy to see him, to hear about his crazy jobs. Sometimes he brings a girl along and you smile politely at her, shake her hand. The whole school knew about Amanda and Mrs. Robinson. Besides wanting to protect yourself, you don’t believe Lip could ever want more than friendship from you, which makes interacting with him easier. ‘Cause you’re not trying for anything with him. He’s just a good bad boy. Who cares if you’ve had a crush on him since day one?

So what you expect from Lip when you introduce him to your date, Jacob, at one of these lame parties is that he shakes his hand and says hi politely. Which doesn’t happen; he just grumbles something and leaves for the kitchen. You roll your eyes and tell Jacob not to mind. Inside, you’re a bit embarrassed and disappointed. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe because Jacob’s a bit boring and you still keep seeing him. Letting him kiss you and put his fingers in your pussy and never do anything back. Because he doesn’t attract you. “But he’s nice,” your friends say. You say, for Christ’s sake! He is nice but oh so boring. You don’t feel anything, but you don’t want to be alone anymore. And most importantly, you don’t want to think about Lip when you masturbate, when Jacob fingers you, when boys half-heartedly fucked you in the past.

But as much as you want to forget Lip, you see him again. It’s a bar this time. Filled to the brim with a Friday crowd.

“Hey,” someone says behind you, laying a hand on your shoulder, and you know it’s him before you turn around. You smile at him, sucking on a colorful paper straw.

“You still drink that? Rum and Coke?”

“Yeah,” you laugh shortly, looking at the dark brown drink in your hands. “Spiced rum!” you clarify.

Lip leans closer to you, the sudden proximity doing things to you, as always, and you have to bite your bottom lip.

“Is your boyfriend here?” he asks casually, but you noticed him scanning the crowd just a few seconds ago.

“Yeah… Jacob’s here—but he’s not my boyfriend. We’ve been just—seeing each other for a bit.” You don’t want to talk about Jacob with Lip and it’s clear in the way you talk. You’re more focused on your elbows touching on the bartop.

Lip just laughs shortly, doesn’t say anything. It irks you. You frown. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lip shrugs, drumming his fingers on the wooden desk stained with beer and sweet, sticky liquor. He’s lost some of the baby fat in his face. You notice the sharpness of his cheekbones. He tilts his face downward as he blinks at you.

“You never had a boyfriend at school.” He probably wants to say "When I was at school" but that doesn’t interest you that much now.

“So what?” You grow even more irritated by his questions. Why does he care? You never discussed boyfriends, or his girlfriends, for that matter.

You turn your head away, grimacing, but Lip, on the other side, seems entertained. Intrigued.

“Nothing,” he says, smirking stupidly, and doesn’t stop looking at you. “You’re pretty when you pout.”

Your whole face flushes in an instant. Lip never talked like this to you. Never flirted. Of course, at the beginning, you had been disappointed, but you quickly decided that mutual respect for friendship is much better. Safer.

Unsure of what you’re going to say, you tilt your face back to him, but when you look at Lip, he’s not smirking anymore. He reaches for you, hand catching your burning face, his thumb sweeping over your cheek.

It takes you a moment to bat his hand away. “What’re you doing?” you ask, horrified. And shocked. Flustered with your shyness.

Lip shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he mumbles while you’re looking around, all wild, to check for Jacob.

This time it’s Lip who frowns. “You said he was not your boyfriend.”

“Are you, like, jealous or something?” you say only to say SOMETHING, head shaking in disbelief. The silence that follows almost shocks you. You never thought about what you would do if Lip felt the same about you. Never dared to think about that scenario.

Scared to find out what you’ll find out, you peer at him. His face is serious, jaw tense.

“Oh my god, you—you’re jealous,” you whisper, hand going to your mouth to cover it. Your expression must be hilarious—eyes wide, mouth open in disbelief. Lip starts fidgeting with the paper coaster on the bar, eyes flicking all over the room.

Angry tears begin to cloud your vision. “You have no right to be jealous now,” you seethe. “Have you only noticed me now? When I’m seeing someone?” The hurt is unmistakable in your voice. You ball your hands into fists, blinking against the tears welling in your eyes. When Lip doesn’t say anything, you turn on your heel. If you don’t get some fresh air now, you’re going to suffocate.

Once outside, you find a quieter spot away from the smoking people, propping against a wooden table. When you look up you wish you could see stars in the night sky. But the light pollution’s making it impossible. Sighing, you wrap your arms around yourself to protect yourself from the chill. You’re glad that Jacob knows people here too, otherwise you would probably feel bad for leaving him.

Before you get a chance to really sort your feelings, you see Lip approaching you in your peripheral vision.

You sigh, defeated, making a point of not looking at him as he stops a mere foot from you. You’re terrible at confrontations.

“You mad?” Lip asks, and you can feel him studying your face. There’s a cigarette burning between his fingers.

You shake your head. No.

Next, Lip shrugs off his hoodie, cigarette held between his pouting lips, and drapes the garment, warmed by his own body heat, over your shoulders. “Here.”

Suddenly, you’re enveloped in Lip Gallagher. In the smell of tobacco, laundry detergent, and boy. You close your eyes tight against the feeling that’s surfacing from within you. It’s spreading like wildfire, and when Lip steps in front of you, reaching to move the zipper up, up, up, the heat reaches your face, pinks up your cheeks.

Lip leans into you, putting both your bodies into contact, thighs to chests. He slides one of his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, right where your hand’s hiding too, and twines your fingers together. Then he rubs his cheek against your own, as you meet in the middle, and your heart stops. You didn’t know Lip would be like this. That brash, cocky Lip Gallagher with a womanizer reputation treating you with such tenderness.

But you don’t want to end up as a notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t think I’m your type,” you say simply, looking at the ground, hoping that’s enough for him to let it go. To let you go. Even though deep down, it’s the last thing you wish for. You don’t want Lip to let you go. You want him to do the exact opposite.

Lip scoffs, closer to your ear than you expected, making you jump. “And what’s my type?”

“I mean—” you swallow hard, finding the courage to say the next words, as nonchalantly as possible, “I’m from a functional family. I don’t use drugs, I don’t deal drugs. I’m pretty sure I don’t have any personality disorders,” you list.

“Wow, so you’ve done research on me, huh?” Lip asks drily but he doesn’t move, stays close to you.

You decide to come out with the truth. “You know, I had a crush on you at school, and I think I was not as subtle as I thought I was. I mean, most of my friends knew about it.”

Licking his lips, he says,“I always thought you were cute. I was just—”

You're not letting him off that easy. “Busy fucking through the entire school?”

“I didn’t think it was a good idea to make a move.”

“Why do you think it’s a good idea now?”

“Because I can’t stay away from you anymore.”

[xenteaart]

contemplating mediocrity

pairing: idol!chan x reader (gn but written with f!reader in mind) word count: 0,9k genre/warnings: er, hurt to comfort, use of "baby", self-doubt, honestly not much else, pretty pg-13 author's note: heavily inspired by @withleeknow 's last seungmin fic, i couldn't handle the angst and needed to comfort myself fkdjfkdjfk. also it kinda made me reflect on why it hurt so bad so i guess this fic is a little support and comfort thingy for everyone who might not be feeling "enough". before reading you might wanna check out the inspo fic itself <3

“baby? what’s wrong?” 

ah, he’s always too quick to notice. 

you take your eyes off the laptop and put a video of 3racha’s festival performance on pause.

“nothing. you guys did a wonderful job, truly. ’m just… contemplating my mediocrity.”

“what?” he’s more just taken aback than anything else but you read it as irritation.

it’s one of those days when everything feels extra sensitive, even the things you can deal with well on a regular day.

“what? chris, baby, i’m not being self-deprecating, it’s just a fact. i truly could not be more proud of you, but sometimes i just can’t shake off the feeling of not doing enough compared to you. 

it warms my heart to know that you are so so loved and respected, it really does. but, i guess.. it’s a little humbling too? i haven’t achieved anything nearly as grand and i don’t have thousands of people cheering for me after i do as much as breathe. which you totally deserve, by the way, i’m not saying you don’t.”

long silence follows as chris frowns, carefully crafting his next response while you’re already starting to regret you opened your mouth at all. maybe, some things should be kept to yourself. maybe, it’s not really necessary to share every dark thought that comes to your pained mind after midnight. maybe, it’s safer for your relationship to just move those conversations to a cozy zoom meeting with your therapi—

“that’s a skewed perception of our dynamic though, baby.” 

oh, shit. he has the look. you know this one too well, and it says “i’m not letting this slide and we’re talking this through”. 

“how so?” you feel tired and discouraged already, mostly annoyed at yourself for making your boyfriend come up with some nonsense points to make you feel better now. 

“don’t put me on a pedestal. firstly, i think you’re forgetting how many people there actually are behind what we’re doing. daily. i’m talking all the staff and production teams, makeup, hair, clothes, art direction, schedule management. everything. there is literally a whole division for us that makes us look the way we look and helps us do what we love.”

you stay quiet, blinking slowly and pursing your lips together. 

“which isn’t to say we don’t work hard or that we haven’t achieved anything, but it wouldn’t have been possible without all that help. 

secondly, in my daily life i’m just a guy, baby. literally just a guy who loves music. nothing fancy,” chan gives you one of those wide soft smiles, and you hear your heart break a little. 

“yeah, well, not every guy who loves music has the amount of awards and recognition you do, baby.”

“okay, where is this truly going?”

there it goes.

“sometimes i worry i just can’t match it? that you’ll get bored of me because i’m not over the top extraordinary or... whatever.”

you feel stupid. 

“so you think i’m with you for your so-called achievements?”

you can’t come up with a response, so he continues, gently hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. his favorite way of making you feel loved. 

“i’m with you because you’re my sense of normalcy, baby. you calm my mind when it’s racing too fast. you’re my safe little harbour where i can find peace after hectic schedules and loud noises and crowds. you ease the weight i carry on my shoulders every day.” 

you stay silent, focusing on the feeling of his warm breath on your cheek. the tip of his nose is touching your skin lightly.

“you love the regular channie. you kiss my puffy swollen face in the mornings, and those kisses make me wonder if i’m actually not that bad without all the makeup on after all. you laugh at my jokes and cuddle me when i get needy. you listen to my darkest nastiest thoughts and never judge me for feeling whatever it is i’m feeling. 

what i’m getting at is that... i can just be me around you, you know? that’s why i’m still here. and i feel so proud to have a partner with a big warm heart and a strong mind, honored to be cared for by someone so neat and beautiful in the most mundane things.

do you really think i’d measure my love and respect for you by something like fame or... some noble achievements?”

“i don’t know,” you sound even more confused than at the beginning of this suddenly serious conversation, caught off guard by chan’s words, but mostly — his tenderness towards you. his patience and the way he's willing to spell it out for you if you're feeling too low to see the whole picture yourself.

"well, then i’m telling you. that is just not the case. you’re already everything i could ask for, baby. someone passionate, honest, reliable, loving and kind. someone who holds my hands through the hard days and makes me laugh on the good days. simple as that."

the pressure on your chest is slowly fading as chan's words finally sinking in, finding their ways into your system and rendering as the truth. the ache isn't completely gone but you know it will be in the morning, when the sunrise washes the rest of your worries away.

for now, you turn around in chris's embrace and hide your nose in the crook of his neck, simply breathing and enjoying the lingering scent of his soap. skin to skin.

[sanzaibian]

April 7th

Hey journal !

This is going to be hard to write… but I’ve decided to write down my experiences in this little journal I just bought for like, $7 at the local thrift shop, so here I go.

So, I’m Jay Callaghan, a 25 year old student in STAPS, hoping to become a physiotherapist (hope when I read that in 10 years I won’t be embarrassed !), and I’m gay. Like, very gay, nothing in me for girls. But… let’s just say than in sports studies, being gay isn’t well seen. So I keep my hookups on the down low, and avoid talking about that part of myself to anybody else.

And to be honest, it really drives me mad. I’m always double-checking that I’m not too faggy for their eyes, I’m always fidgety when discussions shift towards recent “conquests”, and I feel like I just miss out on so many things. I mean, it has only been, like, a year and a half since I fully accepted that I’m gay ? But still, the impostor syndrome has never faded, and by now, I just want it to stop.

By the way, here’s a photo of what I look like :

Dare I say I look pretty hot ? Well, this just makes things worse, actually. Because then the guys are always like “Yeah, look at Jay, he must be pounding so much pussy” or something… I just want to scream to them that no ! I’m very much very pounded ! And that’s not to say there aren’t people drooling over me ! There are ! But they all hail from the wrong gender !

However, recently I heard about the brand new Conversion Powder by Eamora Co., some kind of drug made by that unknown pharmaceutical company. What’s special about this powder is that it advertises itself as actually being able to change sexuality, so to make someone straight. Now, don’t get me wrong, I wholly support LGBT rights and want for any kind of conversion to be willful – so, like, not conversion therapy. Plus, both the instructions manual and the few reviews I found said that the powder must be taken once a day for the effect to persist. So it’s not as if it was an effective conversion therapy. But… I feel like things would be so much easier if I was straight. I wouldn’t be in constant fear, I would feel included with the other guys, and I would just be normal for once.

So yeah. I just want to end this by giving out my opinions on men and women :

Men are so fucking hot, well-built muscles, with big juicy pecs and a great six-pack invites licking, the hose downstairs is the work of god, and I just want to rub myself against it, accept it in my mouth and in my ass. Women… are just women. I guess they do have pec-like stuff, but they’re just so stuffy, and big and all. Plus, they just aren’t interesting in terms of attractiveness ? Not to shit on them, but just not my thing.

Yeah, let’s see how well it ages. I’m taking the Conversion Powder right now.

The evening

Okay, so I think from now on I should write on the evenings, because this way I can recap the events of the day while they’re still fresh in my mind. Plus, when class starts again tomorrow, it’s going to be a pain to write in the mornings.

So let’s start with when I took the powder. As the instructions asked, I put it in a glass and mixed it with water, to drink. At first, nothing happened, but then I started getting a headache, and felt quite dizzy for a while. I don’t know how long, because I didn’t record myself, and I know that my sense of time probably got warped, but it did feel long. And then, it just cleared, like magic.

To be honest, it was very underwhelming. I thought that something would happen to signal if it worked or not, but I decided to still test out if it actually worked. So I opened straight porn, and there the magic occurred.

By instinct, I started by watching the guy, but honestly, he just felt boring at first. I tried to see how hot he was, because I could tell he was attractive indeed, but it just felt… wrong to think of him as attractive. Which was unsettling in its own right. But then came the woman, and let me just say that : she was heavenly. She had tanned skin that ran along her beautiful curves, skimpy black leather pants and bra that espoused her big hips and breasts, and long black hair flowing over her back, waving in such a tasteful manner ! My dick was immediately woken up in quite the surreal moment, and I couldn’t help my self.

I beat myself off furiously at her being railed.

And I don’t even feel bad about that. I even printed out one of her photos to remind myself of her… God, my dick is awake once again by once again seeing her !

After that, I must admit that I spent a lot of time gooning myself on all the stuff I missed out on when I didn’t like women. I even almost forgot to eat lunch !

The afternoon, I decided to go on a walk outside, to see if anything different happened, and honestly… once again, it was quite underwhelming. I really don’t know what I expected, taking this powder for me to be this underwhelmed ! It only advertised that it would turn people straight, and this is what it did ! On a technical sense. Because I may be, in fact, straight at the minute, but I don’t feel straight. I… don’t know how to articulate that, I think I’ll have a better answer to that question when I’ve spent more time on the powder.

So yeah, what I wanted to write is that, when I was walking in the neighborhood, I did have the same experiences as watching the porn : I felt it was weird to conceive of men as a subject of attraction, and I paid more attention to women, but nothing more, really.

Well, nothing much more to say, I guess ! I’ll continue taking it, because it doesn’t seem dangerous, and since I’m closeted it shouldn’t change much.

April 8th

This morning I took again a Conversion Powder, and although I did feel quite dizzy taking it, it was nowhere as much as last time. That does comfort me since if I do decide to stick with this, it won’t be that annoying after a while. I read up on how it works to see if these headaches are normal, but aside from the few internet theoreticians, I haven’t found anything tangible… Nobody really knows anything about it, plus Eamora Co. is basically a completely unknown entity, so I can’t really get to the bottom of this. I guess this here diary may be the current best source for how the Conversion Powder works ?

But the most important thing today was getting back to school. And honestly, there I found that the changes were more substantial. I don’t know if it’s because I have also been on it yesterday, but it felt much easier to get into the skin of the typical straight guy. I didn’t have to worry about seeming too gay, because I technically am not, meaning that the school experience was a lot more peaceful. I also felt more included during the locker room talks. It’s crazy, because when they started to talk about boobs, my dick just hardened ! They mocked me, of course, I felt quite ashamed, but a good kind of ashamed. Like I’m actually having a normal reaction !

God, here I am writing about that kind of stuff… Well, to whoever might read that (me included), I have a duty to present everything of note ! So you’re going to have to bear with the stuff I already know I’ll find cringey in a few months’ time.

So yeah. On that, I’ll go to sleep.

April 9th

Man, I want to cross out the whole section about the powder on the web I wrote yesterday. And also the “I’ll go to sleep”. I’m not talking to anyone !

But yeah, today, the Conversion Powder made the media rounds.

And the rounds it made, in barely a day ! We got LGBT associations speaking out for its immediate discontinuing, far-right think tanks asking for it to be included in all school and high school meals, and politicians scrambling to state their opinion. It kinda feels bad for me to be technically not aligned with the LGBT associations, since I’m taking it, but this was my choice. I’m deciding to become straight, and my current experiences point that it was a good one. I’m feeling more and more connected with my bros (yes ! I can actually call them that, now !), and everyone who I knew before taking the powder say that I’ve recently been in a better mood than usual.

However, I won’t tell others that I’ve been taking it. I was closeted, and I don’t want people to think that I’m self-hating or something… I guess I kinda was, but that’s not the point I was getting at. The point I’m getting at is that I don’t fit the new stereotype of Conversion Powder-takers that is forming, and I don’t want people to think I do.

Also, even if more attention has been shed on Eamora Co. and the powder, there still is no good answer to the questions I wrote down yesterday.

Better news, though : today when taking the Conversion Powder, I almost didn’t feel dizzy at all ! It’s almost as if my body has fully acclimated to the Conversion Powder. If it’s how it works, honestly. However… I feel like I don’t have anything much to say about that ? I know, I know, such an earth-shattering change occurred in me, and two days in I don’t have anything to say about it ? I guess reality do be like that…

April 10th

Yes, I didn’t write much cringey yesterday !

But yeah, nothing much happened today, as do Wednesdays usually do. Though I guess I must mention that on the bus there was a really hot woman, I couldn’t get my eyes out of her. After a while of me basically staring at her though, I noticed that she knew I was looking at her, so I looked elsewhere. I guess, now, I understand the straight male experience, since I indulged in the same kind of creepy behavior… that is something I’ll need to fix.

About Eamora Co., they put out a statement saying that their product is ethical, and does not constitute a danger for the LGBT community. Although I’m technically on their side, let me say I’m calling bullshit on that. Seeing how potent this powder is, it’s easy for bad actors to drug gay and bi people without their consent, and even though they can fight against this kind of drugging, this kind of practice could very well lead into them assuming they were actually straight all along.

Here you go, let me step out of my soapbox.

April 11th

Okay, so, you know, Abby… No, I guess you don’t know, checking back I didn’t talk about her at all in this diary.

So, Abby was (and still is) a good friend in my university. She doesn’t study the same stuff as I do, but we got to know each other in business management class. We hit it off quite well, even though I wouldn’t call her my best friend by any stretch (I had much closer friends back in high school), she went along well with my way of being.

But here comes the catch.

Now that I’m straight, I’ve noticed that she… is actually quite well-endowed. Plus, over the last few days I would even dare say that she’s actually… cute. I mean, look at her and dare not tell me that she’s not cute !

Okay, I do realize that no one is gonna answer me here… but still ! Diary ! Or anything ! Agree with me !

I think this means that I may be having my first straight crush… on who was basically my only true friend in this university… not the best look. But at least it proves that the powder converts both sexual and romantic attraction ! It’s a good observation to include in this diary.

So yeah… gonna see how it evolves…

April 13th

Oops, I forgot to write, yesterday !

So I just hung out more with the bros, it’s been so fun to just… chit-chat with them ! I feel like we have a real connection, like they get me, like I get them. That’s something I could never have had when I was gay, I was forced to just stay out of the loop with everyone. I’m glad I’ve decided to start going on the conversion powder, because now I can finally get to live a normal life ! … not to insult my former comrades, of course.

But with Abby… I must admit I’m not proud of myself, because I basically avoided her for the past few days… I’m getting so flustered when I’m with her, it’s really embarrassing, but now I fear she thinks I’m abandoning her… I’m also being so obvious ! Like, this morning Abby walked in front of me when I was hanging out with my bros, going to some kind of economy class, and I just blushed to hell ! The bros all clocked that I have a crush on her, and I fear she might too ! God, so embarrassing !

Tomorrow, since it’s Sunday, I don’t have class, so the bros asked me to go to the gym with them, and I’m 95% sure they’re gonna cook me alive for having that damn crush…

Help !

April 15th

I forgot to write yesterday again… I was so tired from the very intensive sesh that we had that I just went straight to dine and sleep, so give me a break, diary.

So, as I predicted… Saturday, the guys cooked me, and cooked me hard. They were like “why don’t you talk to her”, “you’ve seen her look”, “do the first move” and all, it was quite overwhelming while we were working out… But they were basically saying that I shouldn’t hesitate to ask her out, as even if it doesn’t work out there’s other girls to find…

God, this is the kind of advice that I would never have had if I was having a gay crush. Nobody would be there to be excited for me, they would all be uninterested to disgusted, and none could give me advice for how to do… because the only people who could would be the very kind I may want to woo !

So yeah. Out of my soapbox, today I talked to Abby… and I couldn’t do it. I chickened out, I didn’t ask her out… Like, I was just about to ! But then somebody let their coat drop, and Abby, kind soul she is, picked it up for them… and after that, my courage just disappeared, and I just brought up the topic of the Conversion Powder and the whole drama.

Yeah. About the Conversion Powder drama.

So, let’s just say that it got heated, and it became the controversy that everyone was talking about. I don’t know what my country will choose as a way forward, but some have already chosen to outlaw it… and the usual suspects have made it official “prescription” to “cure” gayness. I’m against both options, and although I think none will be taken by our government, they currently haven’t chosen a stance… I’ll keep a close eye on it, because I’d hate for my experiment to be cut short just because of them deciding for me…

April 16th

This time, I didn’t miss a day ! Yay !

So… I asked Abby out.

It was as if the stars aligned. Today she dressed in very hot clothes, and we had class together both before and after lunch. So I took the opportunity to ask her to meet with me at the park. But then, at the afternoon, it started raining… I was afraid that our meet-up would have to be canceled, but just before it was time to end the classes, the sky cleared up ! So we went to the park, and my favorite bench in front of the pond was free ! We sat together, and there, I asked her if she wanted to go out with me.

And she said yes !

God, it feels so good ! My first ever date, and not hookup !

I’m just buzzing with excitement, we’re gonna see each other this Saturday afternoon after class ! I’m already envisioning it : first we get together in a cafe, then we go to the park and visit its zoo at the same time ! It’s going to be perfect !

I’m so ready for it !

April 17th

So, I’ve told the bros the good news… and somehow, the conversation drifted on clothes, and we realized that I don’t really have any “date” clothes – or at least, not straight date clothes. They said that it wouldn’t go, and Terry and Joe took me this afternoon to the shops, as they said that, as “pussyhounds” they know what makes girls go apeshit. There, they encouraged me to buy a nice black dress shirt, dark blue jeans and a fancy belt, so now they’ve been added to my wardrobe. They also told me to prepare some cologne, a golden chain and a fancy watch, because they said that it’s the kind of details women always pay attention to, but I already have some of those, so I’m covered.

I guess I’m ready for my date ?

April 20th

Fuck, I forgot again twice to write in this diary. I guess I should only write in it when there’s something interesting happening, because I only seem to remember writing in it when something involving my newfound straightness happens…

So yeah. The date with Abby was magical. Never have I ever been more glad to have made the choice to become straight. When we met up, she was just fabulous. Dressed impeccably, in a way that, yes, made her boobs pop out wonderfully, but it also made her beautiful eyes twinkle, her luscious lips glow and her fluffy hair shine. And the way she walked, so agile, so dainty… Bro, there’s nothing that can capture how beautiful she is ! And she’s also so smart, and such good company ! We talked for hours, made cute poses in front of the animals, and even stayed together for dinner – although we went out to McDonald’s, not enough money nor organization to go to a fancier place.

Perfect ! Absolutely perfect !

This is the kind of experiences normal men have ! And they’re so much richer than anything these gay hookups ever gave me !

Taking the Conversion Powder was the best decision in my life !

May 4th

May the force be with you ! haha

It’s been two whole weeks since I last wrote in this diary, it was time for me to give you an update, diary.

The last two weeks have been hell, because it’s exam season. So between studying, working out and dates with Abby, I haven’t had time for anything ! Bro, even my dates were study dates ! But otherwise… Everything’s going swimmingly ! I’m pulling along with my bros, and my relationship with Abby is going wonderfully !

Really, I know I’m writing the same thing again and again, but ever since I became straight, everything has become better ! Like, I’m better as a straight guy than I would ever have been as a gay guy, I’m sure of that ! It’s… even becoming kinda weird to think of myself as ever being gay, honestly...

God, it’s so refreshing to be normal !

May 6th (the morning)

A bit of a weird update, this morning before my last exam, because… er… we had sex yesterday.

So here’s how it went. Yesterday, we had another study date, but this time at my place. It was boring, of course, but to get out of the boredom we decided to make some raunchy remarks in-between economics and anatomy. And it made us both quite horny… well, at least it made me quite horny, because my dick was just rock hard, ready to squirt by the end of the session… And then we continued the remarks, without interruption… I got closer to her, started touching her, she started touching me, and then the clothes started coming down…

And you kinda know how it goes, but for me it was special. Because I have a ton of sex experience, but none when it comes to shoving my dick in a hole. I did have quite a good time eating her pussy, wayyyyyy tastier tasty than dick mind you, and she did make me come by giving me a blowjob, but then came time to do the deed. I put my condom on, and then honestly… it was a blast. I came just naturally once I had my dick inside her pussy, I just thrusted, and thrusted and thrusted, a ton of times, as if I was plowing her. She was orgasming, I was orgasming, and when we finally came, we just laid there, cuddling, until we both began sleeping.

I’m writing that as she’s taking her shower, just after my Conversion Powder drink, so I won’t be able to write too much, but really… it was the best sex I ever had. Hands down. Really, it feels like straight sex has been designed to happen, unlike anal, blowjobs and all. God, I’m so glad to have taken the powder !

May 8th

Okay okay okay, BIG NEWS !

This afternoon, Abby and I went to a date in the park, and guess what – I mean, a diary isn’t gonna answer me, but yeah. Abby asked if I wanted to be her boyfriend !

It made me just so happy ! Like, finally for the first time ever I have an actual relationship ! I have a girlfriend !

I’ll announce it to everyone ! Well, I kinda already have, but I thought after that that I should write it down here. I’m becoming the model straight guy, and I couldn’t be more up for that !

May 19th

Everything is going for the best, a month and a half in ! (about)

I think I’m gonna stop writing in this book, because I think there’s nothing I can write in it that’s new ! I’m a normal straight guy with a steady relationship with my beautiful girlfriend, Abby, and I hope – and think – that we’re going endgame. Like she’s so beautiful and she goes along with me so well, you can’t understand !

I’m also bulking thanks to all the workout I get with the bros, here, look at that photo :

Oh yeah, I did decide to cut down my hair. It was so long, it was bothersome, and I already have Abby, so I don’t need to look attractive to anybody, just to her. Plus, it made me look faggy, even though I’m straight.

So yeah, you can guess I’m a living example of why the Conversion Powder is a good thing for people who want it ! I’m so happy, and I have found the love of my life ! It almost feels like it was meant for me to be straight !

So… goodbye, I guess ? Or to next time something worth writing about happens ?

June 1st

I thought I wouldn’t ever touch this diary again, but today I saw a ton of pictures on the internet saying happy Pride Month, and… it made me feel empty inside.

I remember last year when I went to local Pride, it made me feel so… not alone ? Like I was part of something bigger, of a community of people who suffer the same kind of things as I do. But when I see all those pictures, I just feel like it’s not talking to me. I don’t feel like I’m part of the LGBT community anymore, because I’m just a normal straight guy, and I guess it’s the first time I somewhat feel some regrets ?

Now, I looked at my local Pride, and apparently this year’s prominent topic is the Conversion Powder, trying to ban it, so even if I wanted to go in as an ally, I would be the embodiment of what they’re avoiding…

I dunno, I’m feeling very conflicted. And it’s not the kind of things I can really talk about with Abby, considering to her I was always a normal straight guy. So I guess I’ll write about it here when I feel like venting.

June 3rd

This whole Pride Month thing is really going to my head, I cannot help but think about it… I look away each time I see rainbows, I avoid LGBT news and I feel awkward each time I see someone being visibly LGBT…

But really, I think I’m being so obsessed by it that I’m triggering old memories of when I was gay, I almost caught myself checking out a guy… If I didn’t know I was on the Conversion Powder, I would have said I was living through a gay awakening…

June 5th

OKAY OKAY CODE RED IT’S CONFIRMED I’M SOMEHOW REGAINING MY ATTRACTION TO MEN !

It’s too much to only be Pride Month behind that. I’m actively being turned on by men… even though I’m taking the powder everyday… each time it happens I switch to a mental image of a woman, but it doesn’t seem to really do anything…. I’m straight, that’s for sure, but why is my body suddenly not wanting to respond correctly ?

Fuck, why am I writing this, it has to be a fluke, I’m sure… I must be quite horny, since Abby has been quite busy with her internship.

I’ll call her up, have some good straight sex like I should, and see if this fluke happens again tomorrow (hint : it won’t).

June 6th

It did.

If I could sigh on paper, I would. Trust me.

The sex was a bit forced, I’ll admit, but today when I went for a morning jog, I saw one of the most drop-dead gorgeous guy I had ever seen… He was quite muscular, but not too much, was tall, handsome, had great hair and a light dusting of body hair where it mattered. Plus, his pecs were quite prominent, it felt as if I could squeeze them and sleep on them, they were so juicy… Fuck, reading back I’m describing that guy like I used to describe guys when I was gay, even though I’m straight…

Tomorrow I’ll up the dose of Conversion Powder, I’ll see what will happen.

June 7th

Do NOT take more than one dose of Conversion Powder at once, learn from my experience.

When I took those two drinks, I had the worst headache I’ve ever had… and then I was hyper-horny for a good 6 to 8 hours, wanting to fuck women, fuck women and fuck women… I’m really happy I had nowhere to go today, since I just gooned myself to straight porn for hours on end, even forgot to eat. It was actual madness.

But then, suddenly, my horniness stopped. I was just… spent, sitting inside a mess of cumstains that were hell to wash out, not really understanding what happened to me.

I’m afraid.

June 9th

The situation did not improve, my attraction to men just kept coming back, to the point I can basically now call myself thoroughly bisexual. But I’m not under any illusion : my attraction to women is very likely going to fade at some point.

And it’s going to make me lose Abby.

I’ve also looked around on the web, and found that I’m not actually the only one to be “reverted”, as people seem to refer to it as. Apparently, it’s due to people being used to the drug : since it cannot actually change attraction, it only overwrites attraction. So it acts like a drug, the more you take it the less effective it becomes…

So yeah, I’m becoming gay whether I want it or not…

June 12th

It’s beginning. The end is beginning.

I feel it, how women are starting to interest me less and less. I’d rather be dealing with dicks than with pussies… I had sex with Abby yesterday, and I just wasn’t into it. It just didn’t feel as exciting, as wonderful as it used to be when I first had sex with her…

Even she noticed it, and asked if everything was alright with me. I lied about being tired because of training, but it will only get me so far… I need to tell her at some point, before it’s too late. But I just don’t have the heart to break hers, it would also break my heart to have to leave her… I really wish I could stay straight…

So much for being “normal”, eh ?

June 14th

This afternoon, we met for our usual Wednesday dates. And I gathered the courage to tell her everything.

I told her how I was gay, how I used the Conversion Powder, how I then had a crush on her, and how I’m slowly becoming gay again. I was so afraid telling her that. Because I absolutely was in the wrong, I kept her in the dark about an important part of myself, and I was afraid of her reaction… heh, it’s kind of my first coming-out, in a way.

However, Abby, blessed be her heart, took it in strides, and the only thing she became angry over was the fact that I decided to take the Conversion Powder… Turns out she’s bisexual, and is really against it, and I guess I became another example for her to latch onto to deem it unacceptable… We had a goodbye kiss, and I told her that I still had a few days of liking women, so we should do whatever last thing together as a couple as we can.

I’ll see what she has in store for me.

June 15th

Okay, today was wild.

Abby basically took a whole day off just for me, and invited me to her place. And I was barely inside her bedroom that she just came in with tons of sex toys. I’m not even sure where she found half of those… And so, we just spent the remainder of the day having sex in many a kinky setup… the last of my straight sex would be kinky sex…

It was great, I hadn’t had so much fun in a long while, especially worrying this much about the end of the Conversion Powder… and I feel that from now on I’ll know her body way too much for someone who will soon become her Gay Best Friend.

So yeah, a great way to close the straight chapter of my life. We’ve decided, with Abby, that tomorrow I’ll get off the Conversion Powder, and that will be our official break up.

June 16th

First day without Conversion Powder, and I’ve been in bed fighting the inevitable headache that such an action accompanies.

Abby was kind enough to come look after me, and it honestly felt really weird to look at her and feel basically not much happening in my dick. Only remained aesthetic attraction.

While she was here, I made her read this diary. It was quite a humbling experience, as she was basically reading through my heart. Her reactions ranged from laughter to concern, including a few realizations about our history together. I mean, I didn’t know she remembered the time I almost confessed to her but was interrupted by someone else !

She also told me that it was weird how I didn’t mention being afraid about the bros, and honestly… I find it also weird now that she mentions it. I dunno, when I decided to take the powder, fitting in with the bros was such a priority for me, yet today, I feel like I have such a good relationship that I wouldn’t trust them to care either way. But I did make a coming out message in our group chat, basically explaining the same stuff as I did with Abby. I’ll see how it goes, but currently Terry eagerly responded with a “I support you!!!!!!1!!!”.

June 18th

My headache was very strong, and I stayed in bed again yesterday, but by now I think it has passed. I didn’t expect the aftereffects of the Conversion Powder to be this severe...

I don’t think I’ll have much to say in this diary in the future, especially as I seem to be going back to the normal me. I mean, normal gay me. But since I’ve had a lot of time to think about this whole situation the past few days, I’ll write about my experiences here.

So, first of all, I’m glad to have made this experience of what straight life looks like. However, I also think that it was a mistake.

Basically, I think that when I did it, I took the easy way out. Pointing to an inalienable part of myself as being the cause of all my woes and then trying to remove it, it just shows a laziness from me. Like I can’t try and imagine what an actual solution looks like, I have to change myself before being able to fix stuff. However, I feel that this experience made me learn that I was actually able to do all the things I felt were lacking. Talking to Abby she made me notice that, aside from being straight, nothing really changed after taking the Conversion Powder, so all the things I blamed myself for making me look faggy just… didn’t. It was only me being afraid, and letting it talk rather than the rational mind. So all the good things I had when I was straight, I can just have them if I get out of the mindset that gay is bad.

So… yeah ! Although it still feels a bit weird to say, I’m gay, and I’m proud ! All my woes weren’t due to me being gay, they were due to me being afraid, so now I decide to not be afraid anymore ! I hope that whoever reads this diary (including me) will understand that they don’t need to take out a part of themselves to find happiness. They need to get over their fears, and only this way will the road to happiness will be opened !

Well said, love from the past ! -T

[lilyisclueless]

First For Everything

18+

Gojo and Geto find out you’re a virgin, then quickly find out after you wouldn’t mind them taking it from you.

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem!reader

Tags: virgin!reader, Virginity loss, Threesome, Praise, Oral, Multiple Orgasms/overstimulation, Fingering

word count: 2637

Part 1/2

———

“Wait… you’re a virgin?”

The question immediately makes you feel heat travel to your cheeks. Two pairs of eyes lock on you, one an endless sky of blue, and the other pair so dark that if the light wasn’t hitting them the right way, it felt like you’re staring into a deep abyss. Both are almost too much to stare into on a good day, much less when they’re looking at you like that.

Gojo and Geto are your best friends. You three have grown very close over the past two years, so close that they didn’t have any shame when it came to you. They were as vulgar around you as they are with each other. Usually, that’s fine. Usually, you just have to put up with them spewing the most filthy things, typically the next day after a hookup. That was fine, even if you had to discreetly clench your thighs together. Sometimes it’s things like “What kind of sex toy do you use” or “What’s your bra size” too, and you used to blush at those questions but you’ve gotten used to them.

You say they, but you mainly mean Gojo. Although Geto always patiently waits for your answer, you can’t say he’s much better.

Today Gojo decided to ask you what it feels like to be fucked as a girl. You three are hanging out in his room since the white hair devil’s mouth wasn’t the only filthy thing about him. He was also filthy rich and got a king-sized bed for his room way back. You and Geto were sitting against the headboard a little ways apart, him reading his book while you scrolled through your phone. Gojo had been resting his head in your lap and legs across Geto when he finally grew bored enough to ask.

You didn’t even have a strong reaction. You didn’t blush, you didn’t feel shy. It was an easy question to answer.

“I’ve never been fucked so I wouldn’t know.”

You honestly didn’t think much about it until you felt both of the gazes on you. Their surprised expressions confused you slightly until Gojo asked his next question, which left you feeling a little embarrassed because yes, yes you were.

“What? Not everyone can be whores like you guys,” you huff, averting your gaze back down to your phone to avoid their piercing eyes. You not only hear but feel Gojo laugh below you, which only makes the red on your cheeks spread.

“No way! You totally are a virgin!” Gojo’s tone was teasing, and you knew that you wouldn’t live this down. Now for a while. This would be his new favorite topic.

“You don’t have to be a whore to have sex, you know,” Geto speaks up, and you glare over at him. He raises an eyebrow back, almost daring you to say he’s wrong, and you decide then and there you weren’t going to feed into this.

“Who would’ve thought? I knew you weren’t as active as us, but I never took you for a prude.” Gojo reaches forward and pokes your cheek playfully, and you’re quick to swat his hand away. “So why haven’t you popped the cherry yet?”

Now that question did actually embarrass you. Because there wasn’t a real reason why. You just… haven't. Between school, missions, and these two constantly dragging you around, you haven’t had time to make another male friend. Much less a fuck buddy.

That, and maybe you had the tiniest, tiny, itsy-bitty crush on your two friends. How could you not? Beyond being two of the most handsome men there are, the way they talk about their conquests almost makes you jealous.

Gojo pouts when you continue to ignore him. As if to get back at you for ignoring him, he turns his face away from you. You can feel his soft white strands gently brush against your exposed thighs, all three of you wearing your school uniforms still, but you pay him no mind. Geto chuckles as he closes his book, setting it to the side for now.

“There’s no shame in being a virgin. Me and Satoru were virgins once,” Geto says, ever the sweetheart, “I mean, not since we were like sixteen. But there’s no problem being eighteen and still a virgin.”

Aaaaaand there he goes, throwing in his side shade as usual.

“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t think I can associate with a virgin,” Gojo teases, and you roll your eyes, “how can I say I’m a proper whore if I hang out with a virgin?”

“He’s got a point. We have a reputation to uphold, as you always say,” Geto joins in, his tone just as teasing.

Gojo reaches up, plucking your device from your hands with his nimble fingers. You protest, but he puts the device out of reach. You glare down at him, finally prepared to speak to him if only to tell him to fuck off, but he beats you to it.

“I mean, we could always fix that,” he grabs the hand that was reaching for your phone, moving it out of the way to make eye contact with you, “would you like us to pop your cherry?”

It was a joke. He knew it was a joke, Geto knew it was a joke, you knew it was a joke. He thought you would roll your eyes, give him a little ‘as if’, or call him a perv. He didn’t expect much of anything, truly.

He felt the way your body shuddered at the question, the mere thought enough to get your heart racing. You hadn’t meant to react like that, but it was too late. Gojo felt it. Geto saw it. You could have saved it, but joke or not it had genuinely flustered you. Your brain was coming up blank.

The boys watched you for a moment. At first, they thought you might have been embarrassed. However, as they watched you fumble to come up with a response, watched the way your blush went from a soft red dusting your cheeks to a flow wildfire, growing every second they stared at you, the realization set in.

“Wait…” Gojo starts slowly, making you flinch, and he rises on his elbows to get a better look at your face much to your dismay, “do you?”

You shove him off you before quickly scooting to the end of the bed. God, there was no way to recover from that. Even if you denied, denied, denied it wouldn’t save you. They knew, and you wanted - no, needed to get out of there. You are way too embarrassed, and your only hope is they’ll show you mercy this once and not tease you about it later.

Before your feet can touch the ground, you feel a pair of muscular arms wrap around your midsection. You squeak, embarrassingly, as you’re pulled back. You feel a hard, warm, broad chest against your back, and a few strands of long dark hair dangle in front of you as the person behind you rests their head on yours. His arms wrap tightly around your stomach and chest, and you quickly realize there’s no escape.

“Why the hurry?” You could feel Geto’s voice rumble in his chest as he spoke and he could feel the thudding of your frantic heart, “no need to panic.”

“I’m not panicking,” you’re quick to say, gripping at the arms that were holding you back and trying to pry them off you. It was a pointless attempt.

“You so are panicking.” Gojo had at some point moved to sit on his knees, and now he was sitting in front of you. He reaches forward, and you flinch softly when you feel his fingertips brush against your cheek, delicately moving a strand of hair and tucking it behind your ear. “Dude, relax. It’s just us. We’re not mad that you want to fuck us.”

You groan loudly, sagging against Geto’s chest in defeat. You can feel the deep rumble of his chuckle. It isn't that you think they’re mad. You’re just totally embarrassed, and you don’t want to hear their teasing right now. “It’s not like that.”

“So you don’t want to fuck us?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“So you do want to fuck us?”

“Satoru,” you warn, throwing a glare at him that is ruined by how red your face is. His lips twitch in amusement, but for your sake, he does his best to hold back. “What I meant was I didn’t think you guys would be mad. I just… really don’t want to be teased about this. You guys are ruthless sometimes.”

It was rare you show any kind of vulnerability around them, and they felt a little guilty at how you avoid their gaze and instead focus on your fidgeting hands. Even your voice had a softer, quieter tint to it. Did they really tease you that much?

“We wouldn’t tease you about something like this,” Geto speaks up again, “at least not if we could tell you are really being affected by it, which is obvious you are.”

You relax a little in his hold, especially after Gojo agrees with his statement. These boys could be a lot sometimes, but at the end of the day, they’re your best friends. They like to push your buttons, maybe even a little further than they should at times, but they did their best not to go way too far.

You sit with them in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth radiating from Geto. He kept his chin on top of your head, the tall bastard, as he allowed you to relax against his chest. It was a peaceful quiet that let you get rid of any last jittery nerves.

Gojo watches the two of you for a while. The blush on your cheeks slowly dies down, and it’s only when you’re back to normal he shares a look with his best friend.

It was no secret between them that they really thought you were attractive. They both occasionally talked about fantasies of having their way with you, Gojo being the worst about it while Geto at least tried to be respectful towards her. They couldn’t help it. Beyond just being horny bastards, you’re the only girl they’re close to. Besides Shoko, but it wasn’t the same.

The only reason they’ve held back so far was for two reasons; one, they didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and, two, they both had a thing for you and didn’t want to take things further out of respect for each other.

But fuck, how could they deny you wanting them to take your virginity? Even if it wasn’t intentional to ask, it was out there now. No words were spoken between them, yet somehow they had a full conversation.

Their eyes read: I’ll take the L if she wants you if you’ll take the L if she wants me.

“So, which one of us do you want to take your virginity?” Gojo asks, sounding so casual as if he was asking your favorite color or which ice cream flavor you’d prefer. Your cheeks start to heat again, and you glare at him.

“You just said you wouldn’t tease me,” you respond, a little more than just irritated. Gojo places his hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh in his palms before drawing slow circles into your skin. You felt heat twinge in your stomach, and it only grew when you saw the expression he was giving you.

Hungry. And he was staring at you like you were a meal.

“I’m not teasing you. I’m being dead serious,” he responds, but slows the movement of his fingers, “unless you’re not comfortable? We can drop it and move on.”

Despite the topic at hand, you thought it was oddly sweet how considerate he was being. Still, your heart rate starts to pick up again at what he was saying.

“It’s not that I don’t want to… I just,” you hesitate for a moment, looking away from him again, “I don’t know. I’ve never done it and I also really don’t want to ruin anything between us.”

You hate feeling so vulnerable, especially in front of them. They are always so level-headed and have their shit together. They found it cute though, even managing to tug at their heartstrings at how much you care about their friendship with you.

“It won’t ruin anything.” Geto moves his chin from your head to your shoulder. He squeezes your body in reassurance before burying his face into the nook of your neck. His nose tickled the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, but he didn’t put his lips on you. Not yet. “And either one of us would take good care of you. If that’s what you want.”

“That’s right, even though I usually like to play it rough.” Gojo plays it off as a joke, but considering the things you’ve heard him say… he definitely likes it rough. “So what will it be? Me, Suguru, or a topic change?”

You give it some thought, gently chewing at your bottom lip. The fact you’re thinking it over at all made both the boy’s heart rate pick up. While they’re both ready to accept whoever you choose, neither wants to be the one kicked out.

You mumble something under your breath, tilting your head down to hide behind the curtain of your hair. Gojo puts a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The blush on your cheeks had suddenly increased tenfold.

“Hmmm? Don’t be embarrassed, it’ll make me embarrassed,” he teases, releasing your chin now that you are looking up at him.

“I said… what if I didn’t want to choose?” You speak up, and Gojo tilts his head to the side. You’d never admit to him how cute that was.

“Like you want us to rock paper scissors over it?”

“Like I want both of you.”

Both of them felt the blood rush to their cocks. They freeze for a moment, immediately sharing a look with each other. They would be lying if they said they hadn't thought about sharing a girl, but neither of them actually ever breached the topic. Now the opportunity was not only there for the taking, it was with you of all people.

You were just about to take it back when Gojo finally spoke up again. “Holy fuck I didn’t even know I could get this hard.”

“Two is a lot for your first time, angel. You sure?” Despite giving you the option to back out, he finally presses his mouth against the skin of your neck. He presses gentle kisses against you, and your breath hitches at the sensation. You unintentionally start to tilt your head to the side, giving him more and more access.

“I-I mean, not at the same time… just, you know….” You trail off, unable to think straight with Geto’s mouth on you and his hard-on pressing against your ass.

“You mean you just want us taking turns fucking that tight little hole of yours?” Gojo kindly explains for you, and you can’t stop your thighs from clenching together and the small whimper that escapes you. Even Geto groans in your ear at his choice of words and holy fuck.

Maybe you can’t handle them both. You already felt like a mess, the way your body was aching for them. You could already tell you’re wet, and they haven’t even touched you yet. Despite that, you couldn’t stop from whispering breathlessly, “Yes.”

You’d be the death of them, and you had no idea. They’re about to make sure your first time is so good that you can never enjoy sex with anyone else again.

[hauntedhokage]

it would've been sweet

Past!Sae Itoshi/F!Reader, Oliver Aiku/F!Reader

word count: 12.8k (fuck, i’m so sorry)

summary: You would never come before soccer. 

But you let yourself pretend that he was spending time with you because wanted to, not just because you were around and he was bored.

warnings: angst, unrequited love, unprotected sex, sae is terrible at feelings, rin is better but still bad

note: this is not a love triangle fic. kinda jumps around from “present day” which is about 3-4 years after where we currently are in the manga, right after Sae leaves for Spain, to the start of the manga when the blue lock program started. I tried to make it obvious where time settings changed without labeling but i know it’s different perspective wise since i literally wrote it. This is also based on my own personal canon that Rin softens up a bit as he gets older and that he and Sae never make up. 

[ao3][ko-fi]

“What do you think?” The question has you looking up from the mirror to where your boyfriend stands, dressed up and clean shaven, which has you tilting your head. “Is it bad? I tried to match your dress, and-“

“No, baby, it looks great! Just don’t recognize you when you don’t look scruffy.”

“The rugged look gets all the ladies,” he comments, coming closer to place a gentle kiss to your forehead as you sigh. “I know you hate these things, but I appreciate you going so we can suffer together.”

“Yeah yeah,” you mumble playfully, earning yourself a kiss. “You just like seeing me dressed up.”

“That’s just a bonus. You look just as beautiful when you just wake up, wearing my jersey, or naked, or-“

“Alright, lover boy. We’re going to make the car wait too long.” Your scolding has him helping you to your feet, mindful of the heels you had on as he guides you out of the bedroom of the hotel suite. It was going to be a long night of talking to soccer players, soccer executives, and their guests about soccer - your least favorite thing to talk about in detail. 

You honestly hate soccer. 

It was the source of heartbreak, your first and only, and you let the stupid sport continue to contribute to your emotional pain. Maybe you’re a masochist; continuing to surround yourself with the sport despite loathing it entirely, dating a man who played professionally, and wanted you at all of the events he could get you to. 

Supporting your best friend as he traversed professional soccer while hating what it had done to both of you. What it did to his brother to cause both of you the worst emotional pain of your lives. 

There are times when you think about Itoshi Sae, mostly when he comes across your television before you change the channel. He was once your best friend, with a chance that there could’ve been more had he not gone to Spain. But you’d never come before his soccer career and, at thirteen years old you couldn’t dream of asking him to stay. Not for you. All of Japan would have crucified you for trying to hold their treasure back from the greatness that came with the world stage. 

But that didn’t stop you from wishing things could’ve been like they were before. When you were both happy and he actually seemed like he enjoyed soccer and you enjoyed watching him. Back when he had appreciated you and your support, back before he went to Spain all those years ago. 

Time passes, though. He made his choices, destroyed his relationship with both you and his younger brother like it was nothing to him. Switched to midfield, changed his dreams, acted like you meant nothing to him. He was still revered on the international stage, still loved by Japan, and deep down perhaps you still loved him too. But that wasn’t something you had time to think about, you had a life to worry about. 

He certainly wasn’t thinking about you, why put energy into thinking about him?

It was easier to just say that you hated soccer, even though both you and Rin knew what that statement actually meant: you hated Itoshi Sae. 

You knew you’d never come before soccer, but still you felt special that Sae would make time for you between his busy soccer schedule. Granted most of that time was spent in school or just a half an hour before or after school, but it was still time he made to spend with you , specifically. He didn’t talk to just anyone, but he talked to you. A perk of being his neighbor since you were five, you supposed. 

Recovery days from the strict training regimen spent either at his house or yours, meant to be studying for exams but instead taking turns watching videos on your phones. His were always related to soccer, insane hat tricks and compilations of the best strikers, while yours tended to be more on the funnier side or were cake decorating videos since he found those to be relaxing. 

You were at every match, cheering him and his brother on as they dominated the pitch and wishing the best for their careers. They loved soccer and loved playing together, Sae always telling you in private that he did see a future for himself and Rin in soccer at the national level. Playing for Japan as the best strikers in the world, exchanging passes until they got to the World Cup - hopefully Japan’s first so they could mark a huge claim in the history of Japanese soccer with one of them scoring the winning goal based on a pass from the other. 

Sae meant the world to you, but you always knew that you’d never come before soccer. But you wouldn’t want to, he deserved to chase his dream and you wanted to support him through that as you trusted he’d support you in yours. That’s what friends did. 

You loved Sae, and you felt deep down that he loved you too. But you’d never come before soccer. Especially not when he was recruited. Just thirteen years old, not even in high school yet, and he was going off to Spain. Japan’s Treasure, your treasure , and he was leaving you to go pursue his dream. As he should, and you don’t feel bad about it. 

After all, you knew you would never come before soccer. 

You didn’t go to high school alone, you had friends outside of Sae to hang out with, but you still felt so lonely. To go from talking to him every day, watching him play and practice with his brother, to just…nothing? It sucked. You still go to support Rin, watching his matches at the very least and tutoring him when he swallowed his pride and asked , but life without Sae felt empty and you hated it. 

“Have you heard from him?” You ask after a few months of radio silence from the elder Itoshi brother, and your heart drops when Rin shakes his head. “Oh, I guess he’s really busy then. I know he has to learn Spanish too, on top of practicing.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s just busy. He’ll call when he gets time.” Was all Rin could say, and you give your own nod of agreement before pointing out that he forgot to carry the four. “Wasn’t thinking.”

“You never do,” you tease, ruffling his hair and earning a startled “hey!” from the younger brother. “Always thinking about when you can go kick the ball around next, when you should be thinking about these entrance exams.”

“I know I’ll get the minimum score required to get into my school of choice. Soccer will carry me the rest of the way and then I won’t even need to worry about graduating.”

Always following in his brother’s footsteps, Rin was chasing his own dream that he shared with Sae. His optimism was inspiring and infectious, bringing a grin to your face before you redirect him to the practice questions you’d provided. For a kid so talented at catching the right angles to kick the ball and score, he sucked at geometry. Maybe he was better suited for physics. 

Rin joining you at the high school was nice, you felt better knowing that he wasn’t starting school alone, even if he was just as lonely as you were without his brother around. Sae was irreplaceable to both of you, and yet neither of you had heard a word from him - not even a text at Christmas or either of your birthdays. He’d been gone for about four years, and you still waited for him when you should’ve given up. Any sane person would’ve given up, but you still had a deep love for Sae. Whether that was as your friend or if you had genuine feelings for him, you’d never figured it out before he left, but you hoped distance truly made the heart grow fonder and he’d do something about the fact that he’d cut you and his brother off completely. 

And then you get the news you were waiting for. 

“He’s coming back soon,” Rin comments as you eat lunch together, on a bench under a tree where you always ate together. “Something to do with his passport is what my mom said, but he’ll be back in about a month.”

“I’m sure you’re excited to see him again,” you comment, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again. Sae coming home was huge, and you couldn’t wait to hear about what he’d gotten up to while in Spain. You’d watched almost every single one of his matches, even bought a jersey to wear while you watched him play. A long distance good luck charm is what you’d sent to him when it was delivered - a text that got no response from your best friend. 

The snow was falling when Itoshi Sae was meant to return. Out of respect for the family that missed the eldest son, you don’t stop by their home for a few days. When you saw Rin at school he was visibly upset, more closed off than he’d been just a week ago when he was practically vibrating with excitement at seeing his brother again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask after school, watching as he adjusts his gym bag on his shoulder while you put your shoes back on. “You’re clearly upset, Rin.”

“He gave up on our dream. That’s all there is to it.” 

You don’t believe that, but you know better than to pry into Rin’s feelings. The fact that he said anything was enough, especially as it related to his relationship with Sae. It was just unfortunate that the brothers who were once so close now had an entire ocean between them, both physically and in their relationship, courtesy of Sae. 

��Sae is in town again. My mom said he asked about you.’

It wasn’t unusual to get a text from Rin, Sae’s intent to put distance between him and anybody who might’ve loved him had brought you closer to the younger Itoshi brother and maintained that relationship even as he went pro. It was now Rin’s jerseys that you collected and wore as good luck charms, anything with Sae’s name tucked away in a box so you wouldn’t have to look at it since you couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away. Even the stupid notes you’d pass back and forth with him in school - you’d kept everything. 

‘Respectfully, I do not care’

‘You do though. I’m not stupid.’

‘You are, I remember tutoring you dummy’

That gets a thumbs down reaction from Rin, and you sigh when your phone lights up with Rin’s name and picture. He couldn’t leave well enough alone, it seemed. Neither could you, most days. 

“Rin, please let me pretend to not care,” you request before he can even attempt a pleasantry. You know why he was calling, and you didn’t want to bring up the feelings you were trying not to deal with. “I ask for very little of you aside from a discount on your merchandise and for you to tell your teammates I said hi and am currently single.”

“You’re fucking annoying, y’know that?”

“You tell me every day. Now what do you want, I’ve got exams to study for.”

“I’m also in town at my mom’s request. It’d be nice to see you.” There was another shoe that hadn’t yet dropped, you knew there was always another shoe when Rin was around. He didn’t like that being his reputation with you, but there was nothing he could do about it when he was…the way he was. Much better than when he was a teen, though, but still awful. “My mom said that Sae was also going to try to get a hold of you. But I wish he wouldn’t.”

There it was, the other shoe. 

“What happened to not giving a fuck about what he did?”

“You’re still not over him. Seeing him isn’t going to make that any better, no matter how hard you try to ignore it, and I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“Rin, it’s been like eight years, give me a little credit please? I don’t want to see him, so I won’t.” It should be that simple, Sae didn’t know where you lived, so he couldn’t hunt you down. You’re sure his mom might’ve told him where you were going to school and what you were studying, you always caught up at Rin’s big matches and when you were closer to home for the holidays. She always treated you well, and your continued closeness with Rin made her feel better about how her youngest son was doing emotionally. You were like her bonus daughter, Rin’s older sister figure, a member of the Itoshi family complete with Christmas gifts and calls on your birthday, which was fine since Sae was never home for those events anyway.                                                         

“But you’ll see me?”

“You’re buying lunch, Rinnie. Or maybe a nice dinner? Haven’t decided.” But you know how it’ll turn out. Rin sitting on the floor against your couch with some horror movie playing as he betrayed his diet for once with sodium rich takeout that he’d complain about eating in the morning. Rin was predictable, unlike his brother who had always surprised you.

You never told Rin that Sae had texted you on your last birthday. Wishing you another healthy year, standard greeting for a birthday. You agonized over it for six hours before finally deleting it so you wouldn’t have to look at it again, knowing that responding would open a door you didn’t think you wanted to go through. Maybe he got the memo, but you’re not sure that Sae ever got the memo despite how smart he was.

“You’re a brat. But I wanted to make sure you weren’t crying because his name came up.” He knows you too well and you hate it, but you do appreciate that he cares in his own rude way. 

“You’re such a jerk. I’ll see you when?” 

“Tomorrow, unless you’re busy.”

“Tomorrow is fine. I’ve got class but that’s in the morning.”

“See you at noon. I’ll pick you up.” And then he hangs up on you, never bothering for pleasantries like saying “goodbye”. Those few seconds are extra time he could spend in the day working on his dribbling, or something stupid like that. 

But unfortunately he’s right, the mention of Sae bothering to ask about you - having the nerve to want to see you - after almost ten years of silence was incredibly frustrating to the point where you can’t stop the tears from welling up or the dam from breaking so your tears could flow freely. Your notes were ruined, teardrops making the ink bleed on the paper which would make you need to redo the page. 

In another universe, the one where at some point he chose you , he’d be right there studying with you. You wouldn’t be crying over him again, you’d be at the very least happier. He’d be teasing you in his own dry way for putting off your studying, and for teasing his brother so much. You think that you’d be having much more fun in that world where Sae was with you and not married to a soccer ball. Maybe he would’ve married you instead?

But he’d never choose you over soccer. He’d never be the one who chose you over the pitch, that just wasn’t Itoshi Sae. Trying to think of a world where he put you first was stupid and a waste of your time. You had exams to study for.

You tried to avoid him while he was back after what he’d said to Rin. Renewing his passport is what his mother said, and you understood that to be a somewhat lengthy process so you knew he’d be around for a while. At least a week or two, maybe longer depending on his paperwork. 

But in all your effort to avoid him, you end up running right into him on your way home from a mall trip with your friends. Rin wasn’t around, he’d gone off to some soccer camp, leaving you to do things with other people and without him tagging along in the back so you wouldn’t have to walk home alone. 

If Rin had been there, you’re sure he would’ve clocked Sae and directed you down a different street. But Rin wasn’t there, and you’re face-to-face with Itoshi Sae while snow falls between you. It was cold, about as cold as his eyes when they met yours, and you want nothing more than to go home but you’re sure it’s not going to be that easy. Sae was never easy to deal with, even when you were friends. 

“Hey.”

“That’s it?” you ask, rolling your eyes when he shrugs. “You’re gone for four years with no contact and all you have to say is ‘hey’?” 

His expression doesn’t change, and you feel yourself only getting more frustrated at that. It shouldn’t be new to you, he’d always been on the drier side, but given the history that he chose to write - the chasm he’d put between you - you can’t help but be mad. 

“You still cry when you’re upset. That’s a habit you should try to break.” 

“You do not have the right to say anything to me about what I should or shouldn’t do, not after what you did.” That gets at least a change in expression, a glimpse of an emotion crossing his features as you adjust your gloves. But as soon as it’s there, it’s gone. He was always very good at masking his feelings. 

“You act like there was an obligation to keep in touch.”

“That’s a joke, right? We had been friends since we were five and you say there was no obligation to stay in touch ? I knew and understood that soccer was always your priority, but you could’ve at least sent a text . If you didn’t want me in your life anymore, all you had to do was say so and I wouldn’t have spent four years worrying about you.” Your voice gets softer as you speak, your eyes no longer able to meet his as you feel the geyser of emotion start to bubble up in your chest. “But you made it crystal clear, so I won’t waste any more of your time. I have to get home.”

“Let me walk you.” 

“I’d rather walk into traffic,” you retort, stepping around him so you can continue on your way home. “You don’t get to pretend to care just because you’re back in town. You’ll leave as soon as you can, I’m sure. You clearly were happier when you didn’t have to see me every day.”

“You’re impossible.” 

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Can you stop for a minute?” The request actually makes you stop, but you don’t turn to look at him. You can’t, not when you’ve been crying because he sucks as a human being. “I wanted to see you, when I didn’t have to.”

“You also hurt your brother when you didn’t have to . Did you come all the way back for that?”

“What happened between Rin and I is none of your business.”

“Then what happened in Spain that you came back like this? This isn’t you , Sae!” You have to look at him now, need him to see just what he’d done to you. Before he left he hated it when you cried, even if it was at a movie, but now he looks unfazed at the tears streaming down your face. Who was he now? Just some soccer machine? “I want my friend back.”

The conversation ends when Sae closes the distance between you. The kiss is harsh, needy, but exposed a truth in both of your actions and that truth was in experience. You both had been kissing other people, and you’re not sure how to feel about Sae trying to date. Hypocritical for sure, but could you be blamed?

“That doesn’t fix anything ,” you murmur when he pulls away, and he only sighs as he comments on how frustrating you were. “And I don’t forgive you for hurting Rin. I won’t ever forgive that.”

“It’s still none of your business.” 

“Just fucking walk me home.” At this point it’s best to give him what he wanted. Arguing with Sae wasn’t easy when you were kids, and it’s obvious that he’d become more difficult while he was away. 

You never told Rin that Sae kissed you that night. 

Rin had left for Blue Lock at that point, telling you that his new goal was to destroy Sae and you’d only nodded as you wished him luck. At that point you only understood it to be a potential recruiting session, with the expectation that he’d be back in a couple weeks. 

Instead he was gone for months, and you saw a lot of the elder Itoshi brother in the younger’s absence. You never told Rin about that either. 

Quiet evenings with Sae watching you study for classes he’d never have to take, his own book in his hands and letting you sit in slightly uncomfortable silence. You don’t ask about Spain, you don’t talk about soccer in general because you hate that he used his experience with soccer in Spain to hurt his brother. But it “wasn’t your place” to intervene in their sibling quarrel, so you leave it all alone. You tell yourself that you don’t care, but the way you care for Rin tells you that you needed to in order to protect him since he was like a younger brother to you. Even if you were trying to protect him from his older brother. 

You let Sae spend time with you, you let him take you to dinner and make tea for you, you ignore your parents' questions about why he was around after you’d spent so many nights crying over him. You didn’t know, but you knew that he’d hold your hand sometimes while you ate in private and always left you with a kiss on the cheek on your doorstep. Sometimes you exchange kisses that escalated into heavy makeout sessions on your bedroom floor, and other times you sit in silence while you work at your desk and he stretches on your floor.

It was everything you had wanted from Sae, but you knew that you were simply a placeholder and nothing more. He was only around to see what the Blue Lock Program could produce, to see if a half decent striker could rise up to represent Japan and make their soccer decent for once. Once his curiosity was satisfied or disappointed, he’d leave again since his passport had been renewed. You were just a way for him to pass the time while he waited for something interesting to happen. 

You would never come before soccer. 

But you let yourself pretend that he was spending time with you because wanted to, not just because you were around and he was bored. What hurt you more was the fact that you were okay with his selfishness, because it meant spending time with him almost as if he’d never left. It meant for some purpose he wanted to be with you . 

Until he didn’t want that. 

You never told anyone how Sae told you after the loss in the match against the Blue Lock Eleven that your relationship to Rin was holding his brother back. How Rin would never rise to meet his own goals when you were tying him down to you. How Sae himself knew you would hold him back and that he’d be going back to Europe to play for a decent team. The words you’d always feared he would say cut so deeply after the months you’d spent at each other’s sides, and that’s when it truly has set in that you were a convenience to Sae - someone he knew would always take him back despite the pain he caused you - someone he could use and throw away as he pleased.  

Rin never knew what Sae had told you while he was in Japan last, and it was for the best. Rin had felt defeated after that match, hearing that Sae was more interested in Isagi than his own brother who was working so hard to exceed his brother’s level of talent. Knowing that Sae had stomped all over your heart would only make Rin more homicidal in his play style, and he needed a break from additional emotional issues. 

And four years later you find yourself laying on your couch with Rin sitting on the floor in front of you, takeout container in his hand while you play with his hair. He’d doze off on the floor soon, the food coma kicking in and you’d finally look at your phone where a text from Sae sat waiting for a response. He’d sent it the night before, asking if he could see you while he was around. You think about what it would be like to have both brothers on the same page again, to have Sae spending time with you consistently, to be happy with them both in your life. 

But you know deep down that soccer would always come first to Sae. You can’t forget or forgive what he’d said to you four years ago, but maybe he’d actually apologize for how he’d treated you if you saw him? But was it even with seeing him if that wasn’t a guarantee? There wasn’t even a guarantee that it’d be a pleasant meeting, Sae just sucked like that. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Rin comments, tilting his head back against the couch cushion so he could look at you. “Oh, that’s the Sae face.”

“I do not have a ‘Sae face’.” Your retort is met with the familiar deadpan stare you often got from Rin when he thought your argument was stupid. He only sighs in return, and you try to adjust your expression to be less like whatever it was previously. “What does that even mean?”

“You look like someone kicked your dog, to start. You’re also crying.”

You were? Rin reaching up to wipe them away had you embarrassed, mumbling about allergies even though you both know that was a lie to save face when you didn’t need to do that for Rin. Sae had him just as fucked up as you, the last time they met on the pitch resulting in a heated exchange that made worldwide sports headlines for weeks. You’re surprised Rin didn’t risk a red card to play more aggressively against his older brother, but the yellow card he did get was worn like a badge of honor when you scolded him for it later. 

“I’m sorry Rin. He texted me, is all, and I don’t know that I want to see him. Last time I saw him, it didn’t end well.”

“Does it ever end well with him?”

“No,” you mumble, letting him sit you up so he could get on the couch with you. It’s not long before you’re laying on him, head on his shoulder as he reminds you that you don’t need to see Sae and definitely don’t need him in your life. You were about to get your degree, and a job out of it too based on the internship you’d finished, and you did it all without Sae. Neither a of you needed Sae, and you both understood the universal truth: Sae would always choose soccer first. Before his brother and certainly before you. Putting effort in when you know it won’t be reciprocated was for fools. 

“Seeing him might give you closure, but you need to figure out when you’ll stop running back to him and giving him that power over you.”

“You’re annoying when you’re right.”

“I’m only saying that he only does this to you and I’m getting sick of it. You can make your own decisions, but I don’t like seeing you cry over him. We’ve done too much of that.”

You had, and Rin truly was annoying when he was right but you know you’re lucky to have him - someone who knew exactly what it felt like to be pushed aside and put down by Itoshi Sae. By someone who once cared so much and wanted to see you succeed, then flipped the switch and became the biggest asshole you’d ever met. What you’d do without Rin, you weren’t sure. 

“Thanks for putting up with me all this time,” you whisper, tears welling up again but this time because you’re so grateful for him. He’ll hate it when he realizes you’re crying again, but you think this time he’ll keep it to himself. 

“You’re my big sister, putting up with you is kinda my job,” he murmurs, kissing your head as he adjusts his back. “But I cannot sleep on this couch.”

“ You put us here, shithead.”

Despite all your best intuitions, you text Sae back. You do tell Rin that as he’s leaving your apartment the following morning, and he leaves you with the suggestion that this be the last time you communicate with Sae. There isn’t an ultimatum there, but you know that you can’t keep allowing Rin to clean up the messes Sae left behind. Despite your close relationship and mutual understanding of how much it sucked to be emotionally fucked by Sae, it wasn’t fair to Rin that he picked up the additional emotional labor that was you crying over his brother or looking like you wanted to cry at the mention of him. You had a “Sae face”, for fuck’s sake - that could not last.

It’s always cold when you see Sae as adults. Mostly because it was the mid-season break in the middle of winter, but you also find it fitting that the weather fits how you feel the conversation should go. Indifferent, signaling the end to a one-sided friendship and the way he continued to keep you at arm’s length. Sae never felt warm, even down to the way he looked at you, it was a cold indifference that made you feel like you were stranded in the arctic with no way to truly understand what you did to be left that way. But you’re here now, standing in front of him as he watches you, not a sliver of interest in his expression that made you feel like he wanted you there despite the request that you come see him and make the time for him that he never made for you. 

“Hey.” Your greeting is about as level as you can manage, trying to maintain the cold indifference he always met you with. He looks tired, moreso than usual, which has you concerned but not enough to ask. He wouldn’t ask you if you were okay, that same courtesy should not be extended even if the words dance on the tip of your tongue with a need to be bitten down to keep yourself quiet.

“It’s cold out here, we should head into the hotel.” And he’s gesturing to the lavish building to your left, the building you hadn’t noticed because Sae gave you tunnel vision. “I don't have time to get sick.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” But you follow him anyway, loosening your scarf as he leads you to the elevator before your gloves come off to get tucked into the pocket of your coat. You aren’t sure how long you’ll stay, but you’re not trying to overheat either. 

“My mom says you’re almost done with university.”

“Yeah, I graduate in the spring.”

He only nods as the elevator stops, and again you’re following him down the hall to what is only the second door you see in the entire length of the hallway. Lavish hotel, lavish suite, you’d expect nothing less of Japan’s Treasure. Your boots are carefully removed before you take off your coat to hang up, acutely aware of how Sae watches you as he does the same. He was always watching, and you hate the way he could figure you out in seconds but never let you into the locked vault that was his brain. There was so much you could’ve learned if he’d just reciprocated some level of trust, but the last time you understood Sae was when you were in middle school - before Spain, before Blue Lock, before he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Why’d you text on my birthday?”

“It was your birthday, wasn’t it? It’s polite to do that.”

“You haven’t done that in almost ten years.” 

He gestures to the table on the other side of the suite, two plush chairs waiting for you both to sit and talk. That’s what Sae wanted, you supposed - to talk for the first time in four years. So you sit, tucking one leg under your body and nodding when he offered you some tea. 

But then he’s quiet; watching as you sip at the tea provided, holding the mug in your hands as a way to close yourself off from him. He couldn’t hurt you if you didn’t let him in to do that. 

“I want to make one thing clear, Sae.” You finally break after a couple minutes of unsettling silence, setting your cup down on the coaster before folding your hands in your lap. “I don’t have time to fuck around so please just get this over with and call me a stupid and hopeful girl that’s holding you back so I can go home.”

“Is that what you expected to get?”

“It’s the last thing you said to my face, so yeah.” He only nods at that, knowing that there was no denying that statement. “I can’t keep doing this, letting you show up every four years just to butter me up and then tell me to fuck off. I can’t keep trying to be your friend if you can’t even give me five minutes that I deserve when you’re not benefiting from it directly.”

He’s silent, and you continue to sip your tea while letting him process that. After a moment he stands, still saying nothing as he crosses the suite to get to a small box that sits on the dresser in the room. It looks expensive, a cherry wood case that is set delicately on the table in front of you. It’s as he sets it down that the sleeve of his shirt rides up a bit, revealing a familiar braided string of yarn that you’d made at a scouts camp. It was much too worn to be anything else, and your hand catches his wrist before he has the chance to sit down again. 

“You’ll spill your tea.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, setting the mug down with your free hand before dragging your index finger along the bracelet until it catches the two beads that were braided side-by-side into the yarn. Black and white, “like a soccer ball” is what you’d told him all those years ago, and the way he smiled as you tied it around his wrist made you feel something your eight year old heart hadn’t been able to compute. “You still have it.”

“I’ve always had it. I only take it off to shower.” He speaks so softly you barely hear him, the hand on your cheek bringing your attention away from the bracelet and to him as he squats in front of you. “And I know I’m a piece of shit, Rin made sure to tell me at our family dinner a couple nights ago, but I guess I just wanted to let you know that I have been thinking about you and I’ve had you with me like you kept me with you all this time.”

“Why didn’t you ever just say that?” Your question has him sighing, and you look at him expectantly as he averts his gaze to look at the box instead. “If you’ve known all this time that I wanted you and you kept this - why not just say something?”

“I guess I just have to complicate everything.” You know that’s a joke - it has to be an attempt at one - and you can’t help but shake your head before you also look to where the box sits on the table waiting for you to open it. “I got this for you, putting it in the mail felt too impersonal.”

You don’t comment on how impersonal usually suited him just fine, not wanting to kill whatever moment you were having as your hands leave him to carefully open the box. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but to hear an old pop song you’d enjoyed while he was spending time with you while Rin was at Blue Lock wasn’t it, and the tears well up in your eyes as it’s fully opened and you see a very old picture of you with Sae at one of your birthday parties pressed into the lid. Cake frosting on your face as you’re laughing, Sae’s finger still covered in frosting in the frame as he looks so proud of himself for getting you like that. Printed onto glass, a memory that you’d never forget because that was when Sae was happy , and preserved somewhere other than your heart (and apparently with one of your parents).

Then he pushes a button on the side of the box, the soft base lifting slowly to reveal a bracelet that looks so much like the one you’d made for him all those years ago. Only where he had two beads, this one has a small metal plate with a date on one side and you turn it when you see kanji on the other. 

“‘Thank you for being my harbor’?” 

“You’ve always been a safe place for me to come home to. A harbor for me to dock in. Even when I suck.” The explanation makes you chuckle as you wipe some stray tears from your cheek, commenting about how he spent too much time looking at the ocean while you watch him turn the bracelet over in your hands. “This was our first day of kindergarten. The day you decided you were my best friend.”

At that moment you don’t care about his career or potential for injury when you launch yourself at him. Arms tight around his neck as he barely catches you in time to cushion your fall as he hits the carpet below you. 

“I didn’t think you had a heart,” you tease, earning a huff from the man below you but no other comment. “Thank you, Sae.”

“I’d try to stay for you.” His voice was almost so quiet you didn’t hear it, and you can’t stop yourself from kissing him in your excitement to hear him say that.

“You mean it?” You don’t get a verbal response, instead his lips reconnecting to yours in a kiss that was less exciting but not lacking in passion. A warmth that rarely emanated from Sae made you feel like you were on fire, but he always made you feel like that when he kissed you. “Sae-“

“Don’t think too hard about it,” he instructs, hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. “Do you want this?”

“What is this ?”

“Currently? I think sex,” he mumbles, kissing along your jaw where he could reach in this position “After that? I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure that part out later,” you murmur, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. “But now, sex is good.”

You hate how easily your shirt comes off, his task that was exploring your neck barely interrupted by pulling the fabric over your head with your bra following shortly after. You have to sit up to allow yourself the space to undo the buttons of his shirt, and he helps you by starting from the bottom to complete the task faster. The shirt and his undershirt are shed quickly after he sits up, his hands then occupying themselves with your breasts as your mouth meets his once more. Your hands undo his pants, fumbling in search of his length that you’d felt getting hard beneath you while you were kissing him. It’s easy for him to push you both up while he bridges his hi[s, supporting you with just one hand while his other helps you push his pants and briefs down so you’d have the access to him that you wanted. His length is hot in your hand, a soft groan escaping him as your hand blindly explores previously uncharted territory.

“Is someone sensitive?” you ask, smile on your face as he scoffs. Your own pants start to get wiggled down your hips, and you cooperate as he adjusts your body to ensure he could get your pants and panties off without needing to pull too far away from you. His ability to manhandle you shouldn’t be surprising, considering the intense strength training all professional athletes worked through, but for it to be Sae shuffling you around with little effort was something unexpected. Maybe it was because you consistently still pictured him as the same young teenager, the untainted version of Sae that loved you, but you can’t dwell on that when you feel a couple fingers slide through your slick folds. 

His fingers ease into your cunt, it seemed like he was trying to match the easy pace of your hand with his thumb rolling against your clit shortly after your thumb runs along his tip. Like in all things, Sae is meticulous and observant and he worked diligently to get you ready to take him. He felt big in your hand, but without having a proper look at his cock you’re not sure if he was over or under preparing you so you’re trusting him while his fingers work expertly inside you. It’d be weird to ask how many people he’d been with, considering he clearly didn’t care how many people you’d been with - did it actually matter if you were here now? Probably not, but you always worked overtime thinking about what Sae was possibly up to without you. 

“Ready?” He’s asking you as he pulls his hand back, but not looking at you as his attention is redirected to your neck and shoulder. “Don’t wanna cum in your hand, would rather do that inside you.”                                                                            

“Condom?” you ask, wincing at the way his teeth gripped the skin at your jawline, before he let out a hum that sounded like a no. 

“Not necessary.” The confirmation of his thought has you smiling, bumping your head against his as he looks up at you. 

“How do you know I don’t want to trap you into giving me your money to raise a prodigy child?” you tease, earning yourself an exasperated sigh as he nips the shell of your ear. 

“You’ve had access to Rin’s money for years and all you ask for are jerseys and tickets.” You’re mad that he knows that, but you’re sure that Rin has probably thrown it in his face once or twice that you don’t ask for much at all outside of basic human decency and how Sae couldn’t give you that. “He’d give you anything you asked for, maybe not a kid though.”

“He can’t give me you.”

“He’d kill himself before agreeing to that,” he murmurs, peppering kisses around your cheek as he eases you onto his length. “Gonna take all of me? I know you can.”

You could, but not without effort. Sae wasn’t excessively girthy, but he was longer than others you’d taken. You liked that you were on top, having more control over this despite his hands on your hips guiding you down as he whispers in your ear how well you were taking him. You don’t take his entire length on the first pass, but he’s still enamored as he leans back against the bed to properly take you in. 

“You’re really pretty when I’m stretching you out like this.”

“Only when you’re fucking me?”

“All the time, you’ve always been pretty,” he responds, hand around your neck to keep your gaze locked on his. “But this is something special. Not just anyone gets to see you like this.”

That much was true, you were selective about who had access to you despite working overtime in college to do whatever you could to forget about Sae. You think mostly it was to keep your image clean for Rin, despite him never asking for the intimate details of your life that could tarnish your image in his eyes. 

“Thinking too much,” he scolds, gently tapping your cheek to refocus your attention on him and only him . “You wanted my attention so bad, be good for me then.”

“You chased me this time,” you counter, rolling your hips against his and pulling a hiss from between his teeth. “So shut the fuck up.”

“Bossy,” he murmurs before pulling you in for another kiss. It’s more calculated than you’d expect for having his cock buried in your cunt as his hands help you ride him. There was a universe where you and Sae were like this all the time, you’re sure of it. One where you’re happy and in love with each other to the point where you can’t keep your hands off one another. A universe where it didn’t take eight years for him to say that you meant something to him - where he didn’t run from experiencing a human emotion to maintain a cool composure on the field. It was probably a world where he didn’t play soccer, and would probably never be the universe you lived in currently. 

“Why are you crying?” he whispers, the hand that wasn’t holding your neck carefully rubbing your side in an effort to calm you down. You have even realized that you were crying, how embarrassing. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s okay,” you murmur, trying to reassure him as you continue fucking him, but you know you don’t believe it. “Thinking too much, like you said. Missed you a lot, y’know. This is nice.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t think so much,” he comments with a sigh, brushing his nose against yours as you shrug. 

“Do something about it, then.” 

He moves quickly at your challenge, your back hitting the plush carpet with a soft thud as he changes the position so he was on top. Your hands settle on his chest as he kisses you, the coil in your stomach tightening with every deep thrust into your pussy. His kiss is sloppy, needy and so uncharacteristic of the usually very meticulous man you’d come to know and love but hate most of the time. 

“Sae, please,” you whine as he pulls away, cheek pressed to his as he presses his face into your neck. 

“Keep saying it,” he requests, nipping and sucking at the skin he can get to as he pounds into you, one hand gripping your leg to bring it up to his hip for the deeper angle that has you seeing stars. “Let the whole hotel know who’s got you.”

“S-Sae,” you moan, his hand finding your clit bringing a choked gasp out of your lips that has him grinning into your skin. 

“So good for me, you like the way I fuck you?”

“God, fuck yes!” You’re thankful his suite is so large, preventing many, if any, people from hearing how desperately you were missing for him. “S’good Sae.”

“I know,” he grunts, the sound coming from deep in his throat and sending a shiver down your spine.  “Fuck, you feel great. So good for me.” 

Your core continues to tighten with every thrust, signaling the beginning of the end for you, and you hope he’s also close because you’re not sure you could handle any more. You didn’t have the soccer stamina like he did. 

“Sae, I’m gonna cum.” That gets his attention, leaving your neck with an open mouthed kiss before he’s looking down at you again. He’s smiling as his hand pushes your hair from your face, kissing your forehead as he feels your walls begin to constrict around him. 

“Come on, baby, you can cum for me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your cheeks as he forehead rests against yours. “C’mon, beg a little bit for me as you do, yeah?”

“Sae, please,” you whimper, gripping his forearms as he grinds his hips into yours. His pelvis rubs against your clit with every stroke of his hips, his own normally controlled gaze unfocused as he feels his own end approaching. “Sae- yes, fuck - SaeSaeSae please. I’m gonna-!”

His moans are less intelligible as he tries to hold out through your orgasm, you barely make out your name among a string of curses until he finally stills as warmth floods your core. One small thrust followed by a second push his seed deeper into you, the press of his lips kissing away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks.  

“The floor is not where I’d wanted to do this,” he murmurs but you only try to shake your head because you truly did not care. “You okay?”

“You’re going to have to check for a rug burn, but I’m good. More than that.” Your assurance comes as he pulls out, helping you to sit up before pulling you to your feet with him so he can help you to the bed on wobbly legs. He tells you to stay put for a moment after laying you down, and you watch from the bed as he leaves for the bathroom. 

When he returns, he turns you on your back so he can check your skin for rug burns as requested while his other hand brings a washcloth between your legs to clean up the mess he’d left. Always striving for efficiency was Sae, and you appreciate the care he puts into getting you ready for bed. You honestly wouldn’t have expected that of him but, then again, this entire night was something you wouldn’t have expected from him. 

“You look fine.” Is all he says before placing the softest of kisses between your shoulder blades, bringing a smile to your face before he goes to put the washcloth back into the bathroom. This time when he comes back he pulls you into his side, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while you continue to bask in the afterglow of having sex with Sae. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, uncomfortable with the sudden silence despite the way he was relaxed beneath you. It wasn’t odd for him to get quiet, but after sex it felt odd. Was he regretting it, or trying to figure out how to ask you to go back home? What if this was all for him to get some closure he was looking for?  

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking.”

“Want to share with the class?”

“You asked what happened in Spain, and I never told you,” he murmurs, hand rubbing your back as you look up at him. “Never told anyone, really.”

You hum, gently tracing patterns on his chest with your fingertips as he sits in the silence. You weren’t going to say anything that could break his train of thought, not wanting to destroy whatever vulnerability he was going to extend to you. 

“It’s different when you leave Japan. I know Rin has probably told you about some of it, but him exploring at seventeen or eighteen was vastly different than being thirteen.”

“I’m sure. You had to learn Spanish too, right?”

“I did, which is fucking hard when your English also isn’t great.” So at least you were right about that much, the stress he was likely under was unimaginable. “My translator worked overtime.”

“I’m sure.”

“But I think the worst of it was just how alone I was. A child, so hyped up and for what? The rug was pulled from under me very fast; not speaking the language created a lot of barriers for me, along with my age and obvious inexperience with how the real world works. Thought I knew everything, but I didn’t know shit.”

“I mean, you were just a kid still, did they not-“

“They didn’t care. I could’ve been a toddler and they wouldn’t have given a shit. And they taught me quickly that everything you have can be taken away from you. I guess initially I didn’t want them to try and take you, too. Then it was just, everything changed. I had to change my entire mentality about soccer to succeed there and it took over. And I can’t break it, or else I break my soccer.”

“You realize that’s not a good excuse to have acted like a complete dick for the last ten years, right?” You ask, propping yourself up to look directly at him. “Like all you had to say was ‘Spain sucks, I’m miserable, and I don’t want to push you away but I know I suck’ and I would’ve tried to understand more. But then you did the rest of it, and did irreparable damage to Rin and I.”

“I know,” he sighs, his eyes closing as you roll yours. “I know, and nothing I can do will fix that. You just wanted to know, and I owed you that.”

“You’re pretty hot when you’re vulnerable.” Your attempt to lighten the mood lands, earning a snort from the usually collected Sae before he opens his eyes to look at you again. “I’m serious!”

“I’m sure,” he mumbles, settling more into the bed while trying to pull you back down into him. You don’t let him get you easily, pulling back against him so you could continue that eye contact with him. 

“Are you sticking around this time?” The question has him sighing, and you feel bad for ruining the moment but you know you need to talk this out. “I meant it when I said I can’t keep doing this. If you’re not sticking around, or if you’re going to leave without saying anything and cut me off again, then we’re done on all fronts. I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me.”

You think you know the answer when he sighs, but you let him pull you down into his chest this time. You’d enjoy it while it lasted, you supposed, the consequences would be felt in the morning. Sae was finally yours , even if it was only for a night. 

You wake up alone in the hotel suite, still naked but neatly tucked in by who you could only assume was Sae. The woven bracelet is tied around your wrist, which gives you hope, but looking around the room tells you that he’d left entirely. No suitcases, no remnants of the clothes you’d shed on the way to the bedroom, your own clothes neatly folded at the end of the bed. He did exactly what he told you he wouldn’t do, which has your stomach dropping as the tears well up. 

Deep down, you knew he wouldn’t keep his word. He would never choose you over soccer, after all. 

You feel ashamed as you leave the hotel, the snow still falling and you’re tempted to walk all the way back home to just marinate in the emotions you were feeling. But you don’t, instead calling for a taxi where the driver listens to you sniffle in your own misery with a sympathetic look on his face. You hate being so vulnerable, exposed in public for having your heart broken and the pieces stomped on by someone who grew up with you, but it’s another thing you can hate Sae for. 

Coming home to Rin sitting on your couch was not what you wanted exactly, but pulling off your layers and then flopping on the couch beside him was what you needed. He’d be disappointed that you’d bought into Sae’s lies once more, but he’d be relieved to hear that you were completely done now. You’d learned your lesson one too many times, and now you could both move on from this constant cycle of heartache. 

“What happened?”

“Details you don’t need, for starters,” you sigh, earning a gagging sound from Rin that makes you roll your eyes. “But I told him if he left like he did the last two times, not saying anything and just going ghost that I wanted him to never talk to me again. And when I woke up he was gone. Like he was never there.”

“Bastard.” Is the only thing to leave Rin as he pulls you into his side. “But I suppose he finally made his choice.”

“He’d always made his choice, I’m just an idiot.” He doesn’t have anything to say to that, and you just lean into his shoulder while you try to fight back the next round of tears. You appreciate that he doesn’t want to make you feel worse by telling you what he thought, but the silence was horrifyingly loud. “I should shower.”

“I’ll make some breakfast for you.”

After you were clean and had eaten, Rin left for his own training regimen and you sat on your couch while staring at your phone as it vibrated on the coffee table. Sae had already called twice, this would be the third time he’d called. You don’t want to answer, but you know you have to or else he wouldn’t stop calling. But maybe he’d come back if he thought you hadn’t made it home? Could you manipulate him into your apartment so you could yell at him in person? 

No, that wouldn’t really fix anything. He’d probably just try to fuck you into being docile again, and you didn’t want or need that. 

“You selfish piece of shit.” Is how you start when you answer, standing up from your seat. “I can’t believe that I believed all that shit you said! But classic Sae, right? Tell me what I want to hear and then fucking leave without a word!”

“I’m sorry-”

“You’d fucking want to be! I’m so tired of you jerking me around like this, and then Rin feels obligated to pick up the pieces of the heart you shatter time and time again! He deserves better than to clean up your mess both with me and with your family.”

“I had a flight to catch.”

“Then you say that, dick! Don’t give me some expensive gift, fuck me, then leave!” 

“When was I supposed to tell you?”

“I dunno, maybe when we were staring at each other in those chairs? Or when you were taking off my clothes? Or, and here’s a crazy thought, when we were laying in bed and I told you flat out that if you left like that again you could consider me gone for real!” You don’t know when you’d made it to your bedroom, but you’re sure you owe your neighbors an apology for how loud you were yelling into your phone. “Like always, you know just what to say to get me close to you and then you fuck it up because you’re selfish, arrogant, and think that just because you can kick a ball really well that you can just treat me how you want?”

“It shouldn’t matter.” Is what you’re met with, and you have to stop yourself from screaming into the phone as your response for how upset you were. “You should know, especially after last night, that you do mean something to me.”

“Sure, but I just can’t do this shit with you, Sae. I can’t be with you when you’re here and then not exist when you’re gone!” You yell into the phone, knowing that as soon as he didn’t like where the conversation was headed he’d hang up. You’d at least gotten to say your piece, make sure he knew just how upset you were and how deeply he’d fucked up. Saying that you should know when he never made you feel anything like that until last night? Absurd and you hoped he’d learn after this that you have to communicate. “I told you that if you left the same way again that I wouldn’t be waiting for you when you came back. I’m done waiting for you, Sae. I can’t keep hoping that one day you’ll choose me because you want to instead of it being because I’m convenient for you.” 

“You think it’s out of convenience?”

“When have you ever given me a reason to think otherwise?”

There’s only silence on the other line, so you hang up after a couple moments of giving him an opportunity to respond before flopping back onto your bed and riding the way it bounced until you eventually settled. There wasn’t anything to look forward to, he’d never choose you and you couldn’t put your life on hold in the off chance that hell froze over and he did choose you over soccer. 

But you had a graduation coming up that you needed to prepare for, Sae was not ruining that for you. 

After you graduate, however, things get a bit boring. Work and more work, an endless repetition that exhausts you. If Rin would be a good younger brother and put in a good word for you with one of his teammates, you’d volunteer to be a trophy soccer wife and just travel. Would it be a waste of your degree? Absolutely, but there had to be more to life than whatever this was. Even if you had to act like you at least enjoyed soccer, it has to be more interesting than the life you had currently. People think it’s cool that you’ve got pictures with Itoshi Rin on your desk and are able to get them passes to matches you simply don’t want to be at, it gives them something to talk to you about and see you smile for once instead of having your head down in your work. 

But you know part of the misery is tied into the fact that you can’t stop thinking about Sae. Yes, you’d cut him off after he’d left you, but there was so much history that you were severing that it hurt to do and think about. If Rin asked, you were doing just fine, even if he knew you better than to believe that. 

Your prayers always seem to be answered in the form of Itoshi Rin. You hadn't exactly told him how miserable you were, trying to put on a good show for him whenever you had the chance to talk. You even left to get drinks with coworkers a couple times and let someone take you out on a date. You were trying to be social, because you knew it would help him worry less about you.

But the next time Rin is in the country, he shows up on a Saturday evening and tells you to get dressed as you’re in the middle of preparing vegetables to cook for dinner. He never showed up without calling, so this had to have been an impromptu decision for him to show up in relatively nice clothes instead of his usual gym or travel wear. 

“You could call , asshole. I wouldn’t have started cooking.”

“It’s just vegetables, they’ll keep for another day. Now go get dressed, casual but nice.”

You comply, but not because Rin told you to. The notion of going out with someone you didn’t see every day at work was enough to make you cooperative, is at least what you would try to say if he asked why you tagged along if you managed to get a complaint out. 

“Where are we even going ?”

“Dinner with some of my teammates. Apparently they miss you despite passing my phone around in the locker room to talk to you before every match.”

“Do they know I’m single?”

“I think it’s painfully obvious on your instagram.” That has you poking your head out of the bathroom to look at him as he goes through your closet while you try to make your hair more presentable for dinner with sports celebrities. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen four cats running around here at this point.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you retort, flipping him off before going back to your task that was taming your hair. “Pick out something cute!”

“You’re so annoying,” he calls, earning himself another middle finger extended out of the doorway of your bathroom. “You’d better be dressed in ten minutes.”

You’re finished getting ready in nine, probably a personal best but only made possible because Rin picked clothes out for you - saving you both the agony that came with you rifling through your closet for the right outfit. Choosing and then doubting yourself to choose again only to end up going back to your original selection. He hated that, so it made his life much easier to pick the clothes and get you into the car. 

“Where exactly are we going?” It’s the third time you’ve asked, you see Rin’s eye twitch in annoyance at the question since he’d told you that you were going with him to dinner with some of his teammates. He didn’t tell you where, or who all would be there, but you did enjoy everyone he played with so you couldn’t be fully upset at not having details. “Who all is going to be there?”

“We’re going to that one sushi place we went to on your birthday last year. Not sure exactly who all from the team will be there, but Aiku will definitely be there since he has been asking about you nonstop. Missed seeing you at matches when we’re playing here. Are you satisfied?”

“You should tell him I hate soccer and only went for you in the first place.”

“You don’t hate soccer, you hate what it did to you.”

“Same difference.”

“Behave in there,” Rin warns once the car is parked, and you look over at him with an unimpressed stare as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “I told them ahead of time not to mention Sae.”

“So they know your brother fucked me then left me?”

“No. Just that you two were once close and now the ties are officially severed but you’re still grieving the loss of that friendship.” He was so good at covering for you, but you also know that he was happy that you’d finally chosen yourself over choosing to chase Sae that he’d do anything to make that choice easier for you to heal from. “You’re going to have a good time. If not, I’ll kill them.”

And you did have a good time, sitting between Rin and Oliver proved to be very entertaining while you were paid close attention to by both men. Rin per usual was a bit distant from his teammates, but would lean in to speak to you and make sure you were doing okay. On your left, Oliver was switching between speaking to you and chattering to his teammates. He asked questions about how you’ve been doing, interested in your studies and excited that you’d graduated. He knew how hard you worked from past conversations and hearing Rin try to figure out how to send care packages from different countries to get you through exams, and he told you that he was proud of you for such a big accomplishment. 

“Let me take you out to celebrate. Just the two of us,” Oliver requests, his smile nothing short of charming despite Rin’s scoff behind you. He never let Rin’s attitude deter him from what he wanted, and you did like that about Oliver. The fact that he was handsome just happened to be a plus. 

You want to say no, you really do. The thought of spending time with people outside of your apartment, without Rin to act as a buffer and remove you from the situation when you started to get emotional was terrifying. But the nudge from Rin happens, and you know that it’d be for the best that you develop habits that don’t include crying over Itoshi Sae and and you need to make more friends that weren’t at your job. So you nod, smile on your face as you tell Oliver that you’d really like for him to take you out. 

A couple years pass by, and you end up in a serious relationship with Oliver Aiku. It’s a very public affair, him flying you out for matches and always kissing you very passionately after victories - one time practically jumping into the stands to get to you. He loved you loudly, proudly, and would show you off at every opportunity to the point where you spent more time working remotely from whatever country he wanted you in than being in your office. 

His pride in being with you is what brought you to an annual gala, complete with the nice expensive dress that coordinated beautifully with his suit. The pocket square even sparkled in the light like your dress did, a very important detail to him as he was dress shopping with you. 

And he liked to be by your side, hand held in his or his arm around your waist as you chatted with his teammates or other players that you knew through him and Rin, but he also gave you space. If you excused yourself, he’d check in only briefly to make sure you were okay before letting you know to let him know if you needed him. And when you excused yourself at this gala, telling him you were going to use the restroom before getting more champagne for the both of you, he let you go with a kiss on your cheek and a gentle but discrete pat to your ass with a grin that you couldn’t help but adore. 

You know that you love Oliver; you love the way he treats you and the way that he loves you - with no question or hesitation to tell and show you how much he cared. Rin didn’t hate the relationship, he just wished Oliver was more mindful of the environment before making a scene after matches, but most of all Rin was happy that you were happy. His brother wasn’t a constant source of emotional pain for you anymore, Oliver made sure of that, and that’s all Rin truly wanted for you: happiness and to feel like you were chosen for once. You knew you’d never force the ultimatum that was you or a soccer career, but knowing that Oliver would drop anything except for a match to get to you if you needed him meant so much more than you think he’d understand after your history of dealing with Sae. A history that he has gotten bits and pieces of, but not quite the full story. Rin would never dig up that history without your permission, but you share bits and pieces when he asks well timed questions. 

You love Oliver, but running into Sae as you leave the restroom has you stopped in your tracks and you can tell he’s also put off by the sudden rendezvous. While you were always at these events at Oliver’s side, you’d managed to avoid crossing paths with Sae since he very rarely showed up to them. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and were hoping that you’d never have to see him again after you’d officially severed the ties that bound you to him. But here he was, and you stand in silence for a moment before he realizes that you’re not going to say anything to him. 

“You look well,” is all he says, and you nod with as straight a face as you can muster. You couldn’t make a scene here, fighting Itoshi Sae at a JFU event would get you blacklisted and possibly Oliver too. “Thank you, you also look well.”

“Aiku, huh?”

“He never thought I was holding him back. He’s stayed with no hesitation about his career,” you comment, leaning against the wall of the hallway as Sae nods his understanding. “Why’d you leave that night? Don’t bullshit me, either, we’re too old for that.” 

“Truthfully, I was scared. You deserved better than what I was prepared to provide, so I left for your sake.” You’re not buying it, but you would let him live in the delusion that he was doing what was best for you rather than what was best for him . Whatever he needed to sleep at night. “He makes you happy?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, the thought that he also had made you happy when you were spending time with him dying on your tongue when you swallow. That wouldn’t fix anything for him or for you. “I love him, and he loves me.”

“The way he makes out with you after matches says enough.”

“And you have no place to comment. You had multiple chances, and you chose to push me away every time and go silent so we couldn’t even talk about it. You ran , Itoshi. Oliver doesn’t run.” He sighs, and you roll your eyes at the fact that he wasn’t leaving and was also blocking the hallway so you couldn’t leave easily either. “Would there ever have been a time where you chose me? Or tried to be with me when you weren’t on a break from playing?”

“Why are you so obsessed with causing yourself pain?,” Sae asks, and you shrug while doing your best to keep the emotions at bay. “You still want to cry when you’re angry, but you’re better at stopping yourself now.”

“Maybe I’m just so used to you hurting me, I don’t know what to do when you’re not.” You know that cuts deep, he visibly flinches at that which you wouldn’t expect to see him do in public. “I need to get back before he comes looking and then tries to deck you.” 

That has Sae turning to move past you and into the men’s bathroom, leaving you to take a couple deep breaths before leaving the small hallway and making your way through the various players, executives, and their guests to get back to Oliver. On occasion someone would greet you and you’d stop to chat for a moment to avoid being rude, which results in Oliver making his way to you since you’d been gone for so long. 

You’re conflicted as you dance with Oliver, your head resting on his shoulder as he sways with you in time with the song playing. Sae had been your ultimate wish, and it would’ve been a dream come true to have him choose you at least once. But to know that it wouldn’t have ever happened, not because of Oliver but because of soccer ? A re-entry of the knife that had been thrust into your heart all those years ago. 

“Everything okay?”

“Why do you ask?” You look up from his shoulder, smiling when he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. 

“You were gone a while, and you didn’t come back with the drinks, and you looked a bit upset which is why I went and scooped you up.” He paid such close attention to you, and he kissed your nose again with a soft smile that made you melt all over again. “I’m assuming you ran into him.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine. He’s stupid, and I have you and you make me the happiest lady in the world.”

“He fumbled the most beautiful girl in the world, like the idiot he is.”

And you hate soccer, you truly do, but you hate more that you had to dig that grave up again every time you saw Sae - even if it was just in passing. Sae’s impact on your feelings is something you’re not sure you’ll ever have control over, and it’s not fair to Oliver that you’re so easily impacted by another. Oliver was warm , with a smile that could melt glaciers and held you like he would be your defender set to protect you from any harm. You deserved to bask in the sun after spending so long chasing after Sae in the cold darkness that came with his uncertainty. 

“Do you wanna go fuck in the bathroom? Might make you feel better.”

“Tempting offer but I kinda enjoy you being a starter on the team and also employed.”

“You just like a man in uniform.”

“Yeah.” Your agreement has him grinning, you weren’t at all shy about liking how he looked in his gear. “But you’re my favorite man in uniform, Captain.”