#why haven’t they prepared for things like this??

[hanafubukki]

The fires keeps spreading….please stop spreading 😭😭 winds please stop already 🙏🙏

Being surrounded by fires 😭😔 its getting me stressed and very concerned.

I’m going to stress reblog, if I’m more quiet today…that’s why.

Praying the winds die down and the fires get contained 🙏🙏🙏

[secretmaniacc]

FILL THE VOID

Pairings: the salesman x Fem!oc

Summary: After avoiding him for two days, she finds herself pinned down as he insists they go out to dinner, just as he promised in their bet. Reluctantly agreeing, she anticipates an elegant evening, but the night quickly takes an exciting and dangerous turn.

Warnings: slow burn, language, violence, Dom!salesman x baddie!oc, teasing, degrading, kissing, gun play, Russian roulette, knife play, semi public sex, hair pulling, mentions of blood, oral sex, male recieving, p in v, rough sex, spanking.

Wc: 6.2k

A/n: so sorry for the wait here’s pt.2 for “ride or die” since some of y’all liked it and I’m very happy for that, did some justice this time and spiced it up they can be out of character sometime so forgive me, hope y’all will enjoy it really worked hard on this one, not proofread <3

For two days, she’d managed to avoid him—strategically timing her office hours to when he wasn’t there, ignoring his messages, and pretending not to notice the way he seemed to linger just out of reach. But deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up with her. 

That time came at the end of a long day when she thought she was safe. She gathered her things and prepared to turn around and head towards the door, only to feel a familiar presence.

“Thought you could avoid me forever?” His voice was low, smooth, and infuriatingly smug. 

Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag as she turned, schooling her features into something calm and unaffected. “I’m busy. Move.” 

He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Busy ignoring me? Impressive effort, but I don’t take silence well.” 

“I’m not ignoring you,” she lied, stepping forward to brush past him. 

His arm shot out, blocking her path. “Really? Then why haven’t you answered my messages? Or were you too busy pondering about how much fun we had in the alley?” 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she shot back, her tone clipped as she tried to push past him again. 

But this time, he shifted, moving to block her entirely and locking the door with a quick twist of his wrist. The faint click of the lock sent a chill down her spine, though she refused to show it. 

“Let me go,” she said, keeping her voice steady even as she felt her pulse quicken. 

He leaned back against the door, his arms crossed lazily, as though he had all the time in the world. “Not until we settle something.” 

She arched a brow, masking her unease with irritation. “And what’s so important that you’re resorting to theatrics?” 

His grin widened, his gaze sparkling with that insufferable confidence. “I’m a man of my word. And I promised to take you to dinner, didn’t I? Unless, of course, you’d rather recall how I made you feel so good in the alley.” 

She blinked, caught off guard by the reminder. “That was two days ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“It matters to me.” He stepped closer, the teasing edge in his voice making her heart stutter. “You won, fair and square. So, dinner. Tonight.” 

“Not happening,” she said firmly, though the conviction in her voice wavered slightly. 

He tilted his head, studying her with mock curiosity. “Why so stubborn? Afraid you’ll enjoy it?” 

Her jaw tightened. “I’m just not interested.” 

“You’re lying.” 

She glared at him, determined not to let him see how her resolve faltered under the weight of his gaze. “You’re impossible.” 

“And you’re avoiding the truth,” he countered, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between them. “But that’s fine. Say no if you want—I��ll still show up outside your door.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, though the uncertainty in her voice made her doubt her own words. 

“Try me,” he challenged, his tone light but his intent clear. 

She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly in defeat. “Fine. One dinner. But don’t make a habit of this.” 

His grin broadened, a glimmer of triumph lighting up his face. “Perfect. Wear something elegant—something that’ll fit the place. I expect you’ll be just as stunning as you were in the alley” 

“Excuse me?” 

He ignored her indignation, leaning in close enough for his breath to ghost against her cheek. His lips brushed lightly against her skin, leaving behind the faintest trace of warmth. “See you tonight,” he murmured before stepping aside and unlocking the door. 

She stared at him, momentarily thrown by the unexpected gesture. The smug look on his face only made her irritation flare, and she pushed past him with a sharp, “Don’t be late.” 

As she walked away, she tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, brushing it off as nothing more than irritation. But the faint smile tugging at her lips told a different story. 

-----

She stood before the full-length mirror, the soft glow of her bedroom light catching the gentle shimmer of her crimson dress. The bodice hugged her figure like it was made for her, the delicate cowl neckline draping gracefully across her collarbones, while the fabric flowed into a silky skirt that brushed the floor with every subtle movement. Her long, black hair fell in effortless curls to her waist, framing her face with a touch of timeless elegance. A sheer wrap rested loosely on her arms, adding a layer of ethereal softness that seemed to dance with every step. 

Her phone buzzed on the dresser, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced down to see his text: "I’ll be there in five." Letting out a small breath, she grabbed her purse, gave herself one last look, and headed downstairs. 

The evening air was cool as she stepped outside, heels clicking softly against the pavement. There he was, leaning casually against a sleek black Audi A6, its polished exterior gleaming under the streetlights. He wore a tailored black suit that framed his tall, broad figure perfectly, paired with a crisp white shirt and a black tie that added a sharp elegance to his appearance. His dark hair was neatly styled, though a rebellious strand fell over his forehead, softening his otherwise sharp features. 

As she approached, his gaze locked on her, a flicker of admiration crossing his face before he straightened and stepped toward her. Without a word, he took her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. 

“You look breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice smooth yet sincere, his eyes holding hers for just a moment longer than necessary. 

A faint blush warmed her cheeks, but she managed a small, teasing smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” 

His lips twitched into a smirk as he opened the passenger door for her, gesturing for her to step inside. 

She settled into the plush leather seat, the soft scent of new car and faint cologne filling the space. The interior was sleek, with polished silver accents and an impressive digital dashboard glowing faintly in the dim light. She trailed her fingers over the armrest, the comfort and luxury surprising her. 

“You own this?” she asked, glancing at him as he slipped into the driver’s seat, his hands confidently gripping the wheel. 

He chuckled softly. “Why? Did you think I’d show up in something less fitting?” 

She shook her head, amused but still impressed, as they drove in silence toward their destination.  He would make teasing comments here and there that earned a chuckle from her.

The car pulled up to one of the most elegant restaurants in town, its grand facade glowing with soft golden lights. Outside, a long line of patrons waited eagerly, some dressed to the nines, chatting in anticipation. 

Her brows lifted in surprise at the sight. “You didn’t mention this place,” she said, her voice laced with curiosity. 

Before he could respond, two security guards stepped forward, opening her door with practiced precision. One took the keys from him while the other escorted them toward the entrance. She noticed how the murmuring crowd shifted, heads turning as they walked past. 

The guards held the doors open as they entered, bowing slightly in his direction. She bowed back out of respect, but he merely did, wrapping his arm around her waist as they stepped into the opulent dining area. 

The restaurant was stunning. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in crisp white linens. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and a soft melody from a grand piano filled the air with an elegant ambiance. 

They were guided to a private table near the window, the staff pulling out her chair as she sat. As he took his seat across from her, she leaned in slightly, her tone playful. 

“Care to explain why everyone is treating you like you’re some mafia boss?” 

He chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at her. “Let’s just say I know how to make an impression.” 

She rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “Oh, I’m sure you do.” 

The waitress approached with a professional yet warm smile, handing them menus. “Welcome. May I offer you something to start with?” 

She glanced at the menu, the luxurious options catching her off guard. “Are there any prices on this thing, or do we just guess?” she quipped, arching an eyebrow at him. 

He laughed softly. “Don’t worry, dinner’s on me. Feel free to splurge.” 

She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Good, because I was planning to order the most expensive thing just to annoy you.” 

“Be my guest,” he replied smoothly, his grin teasing. “But I hope you know that means dessert is non-negotiable.” 

her eyes scanning the intricate names of dishes written in french. Brows furrowed, she tilted the menu closer as if the words would magically make sense the second time around. 

“What is... uh, rat-a-tou-ille??” she sounded out slowly, glancing up at him with genuine curiosity. 

His lips curved into an amused smile. “Ratatouille. It’s a vegetable dish—stewed with tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, and herbs. Simple but classic..” 

“Oh, okay. That doesn’t sound too bad,” she nodded before her eyes caught another word. “And this one? Coq... au vin??” 

“Coq au vin” he corrected with a small laugh. “Chicken braised in red wine with mushrooms and bacon. Very traditional.”.” 

She tapped her chin with her finger, pretending to consider it seriously, then moved on to another dish. “Bou-ya... bouillabaisse?” 

“Bouillabaisse,” he supplied smoothly. “.It’s a fish stew with a mix of seafood, Want me to keep translating, or are you planning to make me read the whole menu for you?” 

She shot him a playful glare. “Hey, these names are intimidating, okay? I didn’t grow up speaking fluent…. Uh, whatever this is."

“french” he said, unable to suppress the laugh that bubbled out. “I have to admit, though, this clueless act of yours is kind of adorable.”

She rolled her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks. “Whatever. I’ll just stick to this one.” She pointed to a dish she didn’t recognize but liked the sound of. 

When he glanced at his menu filled with prices unlike hers, his smirk grew wider. “Interesting choice,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. 

“What?” she asked suspiciously. 

“Nothing,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh. “Just that it’s the cheapest thing on the menu.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?” 

He nodded, still grinning. “Repick. Or I’ll do it for you.” 

She groaned, flipping through the menu again. “Fine. You pick.” 

He didn’t even look at her menu, already knowing it by heart. “Filet de boeuf Rossini,” he said confidently.

Her eyes widened slightly. “That sounds... fancy.”

“It’s perfect,” he replied with a wink. “Trust me.”

The waitress returned, taking his order for a sole meunière and hers for the beef Rossini. “And a bottle of Château d’Yquem,” he added casually.

When the waitress nodded and walked away, she raised an eyebrow. “Château d’Yquem? What’s that?”

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically.

Moments later, the waitress returned with a sleek silver ice bucket, placing it on the table with a bottle of golden wine nestled inside. The light caught the liquid, making it shimmer, and her eyes widened as realization hit.

“This is wine?” she asked, pointing to the bottle. 

“Not just any wine,” he said, pouring a glass with practiced ease. “It’s... exclusive.” 

“How exclusive?” she pressed.

He took a slow sip, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re drinking liquid gold?”

He laughed at her incredulous expression, his voice rich with amusement. “Relax. Tonight’s on me, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“Part of my charm,” he replied with a wink, setting his glass down.

Silence evoked as the air in the restaurant shimmered with quiet luxury, a symphony of muted chatter, piano tunes and crystal clinks filling the room. She leaned back against the chair, her delicate fingers tracing absent patterns on the edge of the table. Her gaze flickered toward the expansive window, the city lights sprawling like a living canvas. There was an effortless grace to her, the way her crimson dress caught the glow of the chandeliers, the silk shifting like liquid fire with her every move.

He couldn’t look away.

His pupils sharpened with intensity as he studied her, the soft curve of her jawline, the way her lips parted slightly as she sighed in quiet awe. Her black hair, cascading in soft curls to her waist, gleamed under the golden light. She was a vision, suspended somewhere between elegance and rebellion, her beauty a contradiction he couldn’t quite define but didn’t want to stop trying to.

She tilted her head, her profile catching the faint light of the chandelier, and his breath hitched. As he took a sip of his whiskey, the taste burned less than the thought that this moment—her, here, now—felt like something he shouldn’t deserve.

He smirked at himself, shaking his head slightly. Get a grip.

But then she glanced back at him, catching his stare, her brow arching in question. “What?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Nothing,” he replied, his smirk deepening as he set his glass down. “Just taking it all in.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the slight tug of a smile at the corner of her lips.

Moments later their food arrived, the rich aroma wafting from her plate made her mouth water. She picked up her fork, taking a cautious bite. The moment the tender beef hit her taste buds, her eyes fluttered shut, and a soft hum of delight escaped her lips. 

“This is... amazing,” she said, already diving in for another bite. 

He watched her, captivated by the way she was completely absorbed in her food. Every little sound she made—those happy, involuntary noises—pulled his attention. For a moment, the bustling restaurant around them disappeared, leaving only her. 

“You’re staring, again.” she said suddenly, snapping him out of his daze. 

“You make it hard not to,” he admitted with a small smile. 

She flushed, quickly taking another bite. “Just eat your food, so we can get done” she muttered. 

He chuckled, cutting into his fish. They settled into a comfortable rhythm, exchanging light banter between bites. At one point, she attempted to spear a piece of his fish with her fork, but he caught her wrist with a grin. 

“Ah, ah. That’s mine,” he teased. 

“Sharing is caring,” she retorted, but he held firm, playfully shaking his head. 

He shook his head with exaggerated defiance, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “You want it that bad? Beg for it.”

She narrowed her eyes, “‘Never mind,’” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm as she went back to eat.

He chuckled, leaning closer. “Come on, don’t act like you didn’t do it.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” she said, standing up abruptly and grabbing her bag.

He burst into laughter, his gaze never leaving her. “I’m messing with you,” he said, grabbing her wrist gently and pulling her back into the chair.

She shot him a glare, crossing her arms. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love it,” he replied, giving her an amused smirk.

She sighed, reaching for her glass of water. As her gaze drifted across the room, it landed on a couple at a nearby table—so engrossed in each other they might as well have been the only two people in the restaurant. The man’s hand rested on the small of the woman’s back, and their faces were inches apart, whispering between soft kisses.

Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. Get a room,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.

He followed her line of sight, his brow arching before a low chuckle escaped his lips. “Jealous?”

She snapped her head back to him, her eyes narrowing. “Jealous? Please. That’s gross. There’s a time and place for that sort of thing, and it’s not next to someone trying to enjoy a meal.”

His grin widened as he leaned back, clearly enjoying her reaction. “You’re awfully opinionated for someone who didn’t seem to mind when I kissed you.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly. “That was different!”

“Oh, was it?” he teased, his tone playfully smug. “Because if I recall, you were the one leaning in first.”

Her jaw dropped. “I was not! You were the one who couldn’t keep it together and kissed me like some—”

“Like what?” he interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Someone who’s not afraid to take a chance?”

She glared at him, struggling to find a comeback that wouldn’t dig her deeper into the hole. “You’re crazy,” she finally huffed, crossing her arms again.

“not as much as you,” he replied, his smirk softening just enough to make her annoyed

The unspoken tension hung like a storm cloud between them, unshakably present as they lingered in that charged moment. “Are you actually saying you wish you were that couple?” he asked, leaning in with a seriousness that made her heart constrict.

Her heart raced at his words, a flutter of uncertainty and curiosity mixing with annoyance. “I just think PDA is a bit much!” she shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. “I mean, can’t people keep it to themselves?”

“Really?” he challenged, his voice low, brushing against her ear as he leaned closer. “Or maybe you’re just afraid of what it could feel like to let loose, to feel something real for once?”

Her breath caught in her throat as a rush of heat spread across her cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shot back, a desperate edge in her voice. She could feel the tension weave between them like a live wire, crackling with possibility.

“Maybe I do,” he replied, that daring glint in his eye making her pulse quicken. “Maybe you just need the right moment to let go.”

The couple at the table nearby erupted in laughter again, and she found herself glancing back at them, trying to refocus. But when she looked up, he was watching her with an intensity that made her skin tingle. “Forget them,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, pulling her even further into his orbit. “What do you want? Something real? Or more of this… competition?”

Before she could formulate a response, he suddenly stood, extending a hand toward her. “Come with me.”

“Where?” she asked, hesitating but feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of doing something entirely unexpected.

“A place where we can talk,” he replied, a challenge sparking in his eyes. “Unless you’re too scared to follow.”

With her heart racing and her mind swirling with uncertainty, she placed her hand in his. He led her through the restaurant’s bustling dining area, weaving through startled diners and busy waitstaff. But there was no turning back. The thrill of being drawn into the unknown ignited something within her.

They approached a door at the back of the restaurant, and she felt both exhilarated and apprehensive. He flung it open, and they stepped into a dimly lit hallway lined with fancy doors that seemed to whisper secrets.

“Seriously, where are we?” she asked, blinking in the low light as confusion mixed with an adrenaline high.

“Somewhere more private,” he replied, his voice low and dangerous, eyes flickering with mischief and something deeper. “We won’t be interrupted here.”

Her pulse raced, excitement and fear coiling in her stomach. “Is this your idea of romance?” she shot back, the challenge lacing her voice, even as heat coursed through her.

“Maybe it’s just my idea of taking risks,” he countered, stepping closer, the space between them charged in a way that made her skin tingle. “You might even enjoy it.”

The energy shifted as they stood beneath the dim glow of the overhead light, their breaths mingling in the tight space. She caught herself wanting to feel the weight of his words, the electricity in the air. “What if someone catches?” she asked, half playful and half serious, but the way he was looking at her made her thrill with curiosity.

“Let them,” he said, eyes smouldering, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between them. “Are you really going to back down now?”

She felt a rush of defiance surge within her, mixed with undeniable attraction. “I’m not afraid,” she said boldly, but her voice wavered slightly, betraying the thrill and lust she was trying to suppress.

“Then let’s find out how dangerous this might get,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, igniting the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

With that, he turned on his heel, pulling her deeper into the hall, and she felt her heart pounding with excitement and uncertainty. Each step into the unknown only drew them closer together, and she couldn't shake the thrill of what lay ahead—the thrilling uncertainty,

He paused in front of an ornate door that looked far more expensive than the rest, its golden handle glinting in the dim light. With a knowing smirk, he pushed it open, and she was met with an intoxicating scent—rich cologne mingling with something deeper, something intimate that tugged at her senses.

As they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The room was lavishly decorated, a blend of modern luxury and classic elegance. An oversized leather couch sat in the center along with a table, surrounded by walls adorned with vibrant artwork that seemed to pull her in. Warm lights cast a cozy glow, and a plush rug covered the floor, offering a sense of comfort veiled in sultriness.

“wow,” she breathed, taking in the opulence, momentarily forgetting the tension simmering between them.

“Sit,” he commanded softly, gesturing toward the couch. She hesitated for only a moment before obeying, settling into the soft fabric while he moved around the room, his gaze scanning various items scattered about—a vintage record player, a collection of intriguing books, and an array of exotic liquor bottles.

Stopping at a sleek display cabinet, he opened the door and pulled out a pistol, its silver surface gleaming in the warm light. A grin played across his lips as he turned to face her, an unsettling excitement dancing in his eyes.

“We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Russian roulette.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Are you serious?”

“Relax.” He waved his hand dismissively, the light glinting off the barrel. “Only this time, we’re playing with a twist. There’s only one bullet, and each time the gun goes off, we have to strip a piece of clothing.”

A mix of thrill and apprehension surged through her. “That’s insane.”

“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk deepening, “but wouldn’t it be fun?”

With a defiant spark in her eyes, she leaned forward. “Fine, let’s play.”

He sat across from her, the couch sinking slightly under his weight, and loaded the bullet into the chamber with a casualness that both intrigued and unnerved her. He spun the cylinder and brought the gun to his temple, pulling the trigger—click. He laughed, a dark sound that echoed in the room,

“Not so scary, right?” he teased, loosening his suit jacket. With a fluid motion, revealing a fitted dress shirt that clung to his frame, accentuating the muscular definition of his arms and shoulders. The sight made her pulse quicken

“Your turn.” He passed the gun to her.

She arched an eyebrow but took the gun, feeling its weight in her hand. She couldn’t believe they were doing this. She spun the cylinder herself, heart racing, and then pressed it to her temple. Click. A rush of relief washed over her.

“Now it’s time to shed that scarf,” he said with a teasing tone. With a quick, decisive movement, she untied the delicate fabric and let it fall to the floor, feeling freer, more emboldened.

“Here you go,” she responded, tossing the gun back to him. The tension was tangible as he caught it effortlessly.

filled with a languid confidence. “Ready?” He pressed the barrel once more to his temple—click. The sound rang through the air like a taunt, a challenge freighted with electricity.

“Lucky again,” he grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“What’s next? Your shirt?” she quipped, eager to see how far this would go.

His gaze flicked to her, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he loosens the tie taking it off, before he began to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. With each button undone, the cloth pulled away to reveal the chiselled muscles of his torso, the defined lines and curves making her breathless. He threw the shirt aside, letting it flutter to the ground like a fallen banner of surrender.

She couldn’t help but take in the sight, her breath momentarily caught in her throat. she breathed, both impressed and challenged by the game they were playing.

“Like what you see? Now it’s your turn,” he teased, giving her the gun once more, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

She took the gun, spun the cylinder yet again, and pressed it against her temple—click. Relief flooded her, but the tension was palpable.

“Let’s play it safe,” she decided, slipping off her heels and leaving her feet bare on the plush rug beneath her. The contact with the soft Fibers felt grounding after the intensity of the game.

“Back to me,” he said, taking the gun from her hands once more. He spun the cylinder, glancing at her with that effortless chill. “Here we go.”

With a languid movement, he pressed the cold metal against his own temple, a shrug of confidence reflecting in his posture. He squeezed the trigger—click. The sound reverberated, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake.

She felt a small knot of apprehension twist in her stomach. Could they keep going like this? The stakes were rising, and she felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

He turned to her, offering her the gun again. “Your turn. Only two triggers are left, make sure not to die.”

With a mixture of determination and nerve, she accepted the gun from him. Her heart raced as she spun the cylinder for what felt like the hundredth time.

He stood to remove his shoes, casually tossing them to the side. That simple act ignited something within her, a thrilling edge of power and vulnerability. Just as he prepared to sit down, she lunged forward with a sudden burst of resolve.

With a swift motion, she pinned him against the couch, the gun now aimed firmly at his chest.

"What’s the matter?" he teased, the laughter in his eyes shifting to something darker. “Afraid you will die?”

“Not a chance,” she challenged, taking a seat on his lap, her pulse racing. In a moment of reckless defiance, she kept the gun pointed at him. “You think this is a game?”

He laughed, a wild, psychotic sound that echoed against the walls. his hands resting firmly on her waist, the gun now pressed against his chest as he leaned in closer. “I love it when you take charge.”

“You’re going to regret underestimating me,” she said, catching a glimpse of the wild delight dancing in his eyes.

“so it’s Game over for me?” he taunted, his words dripping with boldness. His hands slowly wandered to her thighs, fingers teasing, sending pulses of electricity coursing through her. “Shame, really. I’d hate to die without pleasuring you.”

Her breath hitched at his insinuation, his cocky demeanour igniting an uncontrollable fire within her. The tension crackled like static in the air, urging her to respond.

“You wish.” she said, her voice wavering slightly with the rush of emotions surging through her.

With a fury of need and desire, she leaned in and captured his lips in a fervent kiss, their mouths colliding in an explosion of pent-up frustration and attraction. The world around them melted away as her heart raced. The moment was electric, and in the whirlwind of passion, she pulled the trigger.

But all that followed was a click.

The sound ricocheted in the silence between them, and her eyes widened in shock as she pulled away. The thrill morphed into a dizzying rush as realization struck—there had been no bullet, no fatal ending, only the raw, intoxicating energy swirling in the air between them.

That's when he took the gun from her hands, his movements quick and decisive, a spark of defiance in his eyes. With a swift motion, he tossed it across the room, the gun landing with a loud thud against the wall.

“If you wanted my tongue against you, then you’ve fucking earned it,” he spat, crashing their lips together in a fierce, hungry kiss.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging tightly, igniting a low groan that reverberated into her mouth.

"You wanted to fucking kill me, sweetheart," he growled, biting her bottom lip, eliciting a sharp whimper from her.

“It was your game,” she countered, the adrenaline pulsing through her like fire.

“And yet,” he replied, his voice dark and sultry, “I’d never kill you.”

“I wouldn’t either.” She pulled back, a smirk curving her lips as her eyes roamed over his swollen lips and messy hair, an enticing sight.

“So, why did you aim that gun at me? Say it.”

“Because I was too damn scared, you’d do it instead of me,” she admitted, feeling his grip on her loosen slightly.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you really know how to make a scene,” he murmured, his fingers deftly unbuckling his belt with confidence.

“Kneel,” he demanded, helping her rise before guiding her down so she knelt on the floor, her dress cascading around her like a waterfall.

“You want to act like a little slut? Then suck until your mouth isn’t filthy,” he spat, and she flashed him a smirk as she slid his pants down, revealing his hard on.

Her hand wrapped around the base of him, moving up and down slowly, the rhythm sending soft growls of pleasure from his lips. As she continued pumping back and forth, in a rhythmic pattern the more he strived for her lips.

“Did you not hear me? I said suck,” he snapped, frustration threading through his tone.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “You call me a slut yet can’t wait a moment longer?” With a teasing glimmer in her eyes, she leaned forward, taking his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it while maintaining a steady rhythm with her hand. His breath hitched, a bead of sweat forming on his chest as he succumbed to the jolting pleasure.

Without warning he bunched her hair up in his fist and pushed his tip to the back of her throat, thrusting himself deeper into her mouth until she gagged. The sight of her watering eyes only seemed to rile him up.

“Look how fucking beautiful you are, my darling. Take all of me, just like the good whore you are," he breathed, pleasure dripping from his words.

Her eyes glistened with tears. and he watched her head bob back and forth.

"fuck I'm going to—" he gasped, releasing her head and pulling back slightly. But before he could finish himself off, she caught his hand, her determination surging, and continued, letting the warm liquid hit the back of her throat while he moaned, curses spilling from his lips until he finished.

He fixed his gaze on her as she swallowed every drop, wiping her bottom lip clean with a satisfied smile. “You’re not finishing with me down here,” she challenged, cheeky confidence returning.

“Insanity suits you,” he replied, standing and holding out a hand to help her rise. “Now let’s see just how wet you are for me.”

He led her to the table, and a surge of vulnerability washed over her as he slammed her against it giving him full access to her clit, while her stomach pressed against the polished wood. His hands roamed the insides of her thighs, and she softly moans as he moved her lace underwear to the side, his fingers brushing against her trembling skin

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head back, connecting their lips once more, sucking on her bottom lip. After He released her hair, his hand quickly found her clit, eliciting a moan that was both pleasure and pain.

“Make a scene, sweetheart. Let everyone hear how much you enjoy this," he seethed, delivering a sharp smack that made her gasp, her stomach hitting the table harder.

As he moved her dress out of the way, he slowly removed her thong. Her grip tightened on the table's edges, anticipation thrumming in her veins. But just as she exhaled, he pressed a blade to her neck, drawing a gasp from her lips as he grabbed another fistful of hair to pull her back.

“I’m going to fuck you until you beg to finish, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But this is on my terms. Move too much, and your blood will splatter.” She nodded slowly, and without warning he pushed himself inside of her.

She gasped, feeling every inch of him stretching her, she felt his eyes darken with lust as he fucked her against the table. Each powerful thrust accompanied by the sound of the table squeaking beneath her, the blade scratched at her skin making her hiss at the foreign pain of the knife grazing her neck.

“you like that? hmm” he asked, delight etched in his expression.

“I do. It hurts," she admitted, breathless.

“Tell me to stop,”

But the words caught in her throat, her senses overwhelmed as the blade pressed deeper, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes back in pleasure.

“ But that's the thing, you like that huh? You don't have to hide what you truly want. I know you like this blade at your neck. Watch how good you take my dick slut" he groaned into her ear picking up the pace and she could already feel herself coming close to finishing.

A few more cuts on her neck and he flipped her over, her back colliding with the table, the sharp contrast of sensations sending goosebumps over her skin.

He poured his focus on the cuts, pressing kisses over the crimson marks as the metallic taste lingered in the air. The euphoric mix of pain and pleasure sent her into a frenzy, her nails digging into his bare back as he slipped himself back inside of her her.

“You won’t be the only one leaving this room marked,” she moaned in between their kisses. Both of them cursing and filling the room with the sound of their pleasure.

Their bodies moved in sync, letting the euphoria continue and their pace become sloppy. a dangerous dance of desire and desperation, the air thick with their shared moans and whispered curses.

“I’m gonna—"

“Not yet,” he interrupted, the tension in his voice low and commanding.

“I can't—” she yelped when he stopped, a sharp smack to her ass, only hard enough to sting.

“You can, and you will,” he grunted, slamming into her again, her hips bucking against him as he threw her leg onto his shoulder, pushing deeper. His penetrating gaze bore into her, making sure she didn’t disobey.

“Beg if you wanna finish.”

“Please,” she pleaded, breathless urgency coloring her voice.

“You're mine. Never forget that. Got it?" he growled. She hummed in agreement.

“Use your words,”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Cum for me. Be a good girl,” he murmured, and she quickly became undone. After a couple more strokes he finished after, his head rolling back in delight.

Her legs quivering and the short circuit of her brain stopping for just a moment. It was almost as if her body was made to be with him alone, each pulse and surge a beautiful convergence of pleasure and pain.

He tucked himself back before effortlessly lifting her off the table. Her feet barely touched the floor before her legs wobbled beneath her, struggling to support her weight.

"I can’t walk," she muttered, clutching the edge of the table for support, the remnants of their passion still buzzing in her veins.

"What was that?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"You heard me. Shut up and help me stand up," she sneered, irritation mingling with the lingering satisfaction in her tone.

He rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you," he murmured, his voice low and steady. With gentle firmness, he helped her regain her footing, guiding her away from the table as she leaned into him.

They took a few tentative steps, and he chuckled again, the sound warm against her ear. "You really know how to make things interesting."

“Oh, shut up,” she replied, though a smile betrayed her annoyance. “You’re lucky I’m even standing,” she added with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Lucky? I was thinking of round two,” he shot back with a grin, winking at her as they made their way towards the couch. Unaware of long night they’re about to witness.

part 1

[baambastic]

“Drake,” Damian announced, “I require your presence at an outing this afternoon.”

“‘Hello, Tim, how are you?’ ‘I’m good, Damian, and how about you? Did you need something?’ It’s usually considered polite not to walk in and immediately make demands of people, Damian,” Tim replied from where he was hunched over his keyboard. He didn’t look over at his unexpected visitor, but he bet the brat was rolling his eyes.

“Whatever. Will you do it or not?”

Tim hummed. “Depends on what this ‘outing’ is. And why you didn’t ask Bruce or Dick to take you.”

“Father and Grayson are both imbeciles,” Damian huffed.

“They’re too busy today, you mean?”

“I meant what I said. Are you an imbecile like they are?”

“Again, you haven’t told me what it is you want to do.”

“Fine,” Damian grumbled. “Colin has asked me to do something called an ‘escape room’ with him. It sounded mildly diverting, so I looked into it. There’s a recently opened establishment for such an activity, but we need four people to participate.”

“And you want me to be one of those four,” Tim concluded. He pushed himself away from the computer. “I’ve got time, so sure, I’ll come with. Two things, though.” He paused for dramatic effect.

Damian crossed his arms impatiently. “Yes?”

Tim grinned. “First, who’s this Colin?”

“An acquaintance. He assisted me in apprehending Victor Zsasz not long ago.”

“Is he around your age?”

“Approximately.”

Was he some sort of meta, then? How else would a (presumably untrained) kid be able to handle Zsasz? Tim decided to file that away for later inspection. At least it sounded like Damian was making friends. He definitely needed some. “Alright then, second thing. You said you needed four people. Even with me, you only have three. Who’s your fourth?”

Damian looked away. “I… hadn’t gotten that far yet.” Was that embarrassment Tim heard in his voice? Damian was usually too proud for that.

“Okay, not a problem. I can wrangle us another person.” If the person he was thinking of could make it, both Damian and them could get a lot out of this. Hurrah for two birds with one escape-room-shaped stone.

“Very well. Colin and I will be waiting outside for you. I presume this fourth person will meet us at the establishment?”

“Probably, yeah. Did you really leave Colin on my doorstep?”

“He did not want to enter, I would say because he thought he might be unwelcome. A stupid notion; you are far too trusting.”

“Thanks,” Tim said drily. He waved towards the door. “Alright, lemme make this call.”

Damian nodded and walked away. Before fully exiting the room, though, he turned back to Tim. “What are you working on, anyway?” he asked.

Tim hummed. “Nothing much. Just preparing.” He didn’t offer any further explanation. After a few moments of waiting expectantly, Damian huffed and left.

[shesoutofhere]

With Perfection Comes Obsession

Hockey James Potter x Figure Skater Reader

Summary- You're back in the rink, training for a medal you lost out on the year before. Nothing is going to get in your way this year. Or so you think.

Warnings- Description of a panic attack, Unhealthy habits

Wordcount- 10k

Translation: Lapin - Rabbit

Ignore all typos <3

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

Spin

“Again”

Spin

“Again

Spin

“Again”

You hit the ice just as aggressively as you did the time before that. You're finding it hard to breathe and everything aches. 

“Again Lapin!”

You pump your legs, moving them fast and hard. You're mid-jump when you hear the shrieking of the arena buzzer. Thrown off, your footing is off and you fall to your knees. 

You hear your coach scoff, moving to get off the ice. You get up, wincing at the sting in your knees, that’ll be a nasty bruise. 

When you walk off the ice, Coach hands you your blade covers. You mentally prepare yourself for the lecture you’ll receive when you return to the locker room. 

You feel a tight grip on your arm. Okay, looks like you’ll get your lecture right here.

“Lapin, If you get distracted by a buzzer, what makes you think you’ll be fine in an arena full of people? Have you learned nothing from your last performance?” 

She asks you questions but doesn’t give you time to respond, she immediately cuts in. “And your jumps, how is it that you haven’t managed to master your jumps? You are well past the age to be scared of falling. Your hesitation will cost you this title.” 

Silence falls over the both of you, Coach has her hands on her sides and just stares. You know what she's doing. She’s thinking of how you’ll be punished for this oh-so-horrible performance today. 

“Tomorrow you will march yourself to the management office and ask for an extended time.”  

Your eyes go wide, “Coach, they’ll never give me more time. And what about my professors? They’re already at their wits end with me being gone all the time.”

Coach’s eyes sharpen, “I’m sorry, have your priorities changed? Am I wasting your time Lapin? Cause if that’s the case then say so, and may we be free of this doomed partnership.”

You cower under her stare, “No, no of course not Coach, I’ll talk to management tomorrow and see what deal I can work up with my professors.” 

Pleased with the conversation going her way, Coach smiles. “Good, I’ll see you soon.” 

With that, she saunters off, reaching for her phone to call god knows who.

When you’re sure she’s out of eyesight you slump down onto the bench next to you. You close your eyes and take a minute to finally catch your breath. You bring your hand to your chest, hoping to alleviate some of the tightness and discomfort. 

The bench shakes and you hear something hit the ground with a thud. You open one eye and close it again when you see who it is who’s disturbed your peace. 

“How oh how will you ever convince management to give you any more practice time?” 

You sigh, hoping that if you ignore the nuisance next to you, he’ll get the hint and leave you alone. 

“They won’t even give the team extra time, let alone one person.” 

You open your eyes and turn to look at the boy sitting next to you. “I can be very persuasive.” 

James, who’s lacing up his skates, mumbles a quiet “Don’t I know it.”

You stand up and gather your things. “Who Knows James, win some games and maybe you’ll get the extra time you need.” 

James pauses his movement, looking up at you with a deadly glare.

 It’s a sore subject and you know it. After Peter Pettigrew, one of the university's star players decided to transfer, James and the rest of the team have been dethroned. They’ve known no peace since then and are grappling with everything to win this season. 

James turns back to his laces. “Hey and maybe if you learn to stop being so skittish on the ice, you’ll land that jump for once Lapin.” 

This is why you’ll never feel bad for being so hostile toward James. He’s a wolf in sheep's clothing and you lose your mind every day knowing that everybody has fallen for his golden boy act. 

You throw your bag over your shoulder, swatting at the back of James' head on your way out of the arena. 

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

You’re pacing back and forth in front of the management office. You’ve gone over every possible excuse that could convince them to give you more time. You will convince them, or Coach will have your head on a platter. You’ll butter up the sweet old lady who works the front desk, you’ll dazzle her, and she’ll sign whatever she needs to. 

With one final pep talk, you walk into the office and freeze at the door. 

Shit. 

It’s not the sweet old lady. 

Sitting at the front desk is Remus Lupin. ‘This is fine’ you try to convince yourself.

You saunter up to the desk “Good morning Remus, you look fantastic today, do anything different with your hair?” 

Remus puts his book down, looking up with a sweet smile, “No, did the same thing I always do. How can I help you?” 

 You lean onto the counter and start messing with the pen jar. “You, my love, can sign off on my extra ice time.” you choose not to make eye contact, continuing to swivel the pens around the jar. 

Remus sighs, dragging your name out, “You know I can’t approve any more time for you, the school won’t allow it.” 

You stomp your foot out of habit, “ But Remus, I got all my professors to give me as many extensions as I need, really all I need is for you to say yes.” 

Remus, always bursting your bubble, “It’s not about class love, It’s about your health. You know how the system works.” 

You groan and bring your head down onto the counter. You knew this would be your biggest obstacle. All athletes have to adhere to certain rules. The university claims that it’s to protect the athlete's health but everyone knows it's so they don’t get backlash for overworking their student-athletes. You're allotted a certain amount of hours but anything over that has to be flagged and reported. 

“Listen,” Your head shoots up, “I can maybe convince them to a lot you a bit more time, but you’ve got to go to your physical therapy sessions. Doc has to report when you don’t show you know.”

“Okay yes, fine, I pinky promise that I will see Doc, and stretch and stay off the ice for 30 minutes after eating, and-” 

Remus cuts you off with a laugh, “Okay, okay I get it. I’ll talk to the board and see what I can do.” 

You squeal, reaching over the counter to smack a kiss on Remus’s forehead. “You are a lifesaver Remus Lupin.” 

Remus just shakes his head, “Yeah yeah, whatever, get out of here.” 

You happily skip out of the office, so happy, that not even running into James Potter in his gear could upset you. 

You offer a simple “James” and go to walk past him. 

“Woah, what's got you all happy?” 

You give him a sly smile, “Oh nothing, I’m just having a lovely morning.”

James furrows his brows at you, “Okayyy. Was Rem in the office?” 

You nod at him, “Yes, my sweet, beautiful, lovely Remus is in there. How he’s friends with the lot of you, I’ll never understand.”

James is insulted but is weirded out more than anything. 

Not caring to interact any further you wave goodbye. 

James, still confused, continues into the office. 

You don’t get far down the before James is yelling your name down the hallway. You roll your eyes, continuing on your way. You hear thumping and there’s a yank on your wrist. 

You yelp out of surprise. James without a word is dragging you back towards the office. You both enter and Remus is shaking his head. 

You rip your wrist out of James' grip, “I’d like that back thank you.” 

You smile at Remus, “Hi love, so good to see you again.” 

“Likewise.” 

James snaps his fingers, “Quit it you two, Remus just told me you’re getting more time on the ice.” 

“Why yes I am. I told you James, do better at your sport and good things come your way.” 

“Guys please don’t start. I don’t want to have to kick you out again,” Remus says.

James disregards your insult, “You can’t get more time, you’re already maxed out on hours, they’ll never approve it.”

You shake your head in faux symphony “Oh James, I told you I was very persuasive.” 

This seems to bring his attention back to his friend. “You” he points a finger aggressively toward Remus’s direction, “How could you say yes? You're the iron wall, no one shakes you down.”

Remus gives a weak shrug, “Okay, I wasn’t shaken down, we made a deal” 

James rolls his eyes, “Oh yeah, and what was that?”

“She’ll see Doc, every appointment, she has to go.” 

James looks confused. “How is that a deal? It's protocol.” 

“Wellll” Remus drags.

The look on James’ face darkens. His attention is on you now. “You don’t see the Doc?” 

You try not to be intimidated by his glare. “I just don’t see the point of seeing him after every practice. I mean come on, my body is my instrument, of course, I know how to take care of it.” 

Whatever lightness was in the air, is gone now. James is genuinely upset and you can’t wrap your head around why. 

“Are you kidding me, so what, you’ve just been skipping out on all your appointments?”

All you can do is shrug. Remus, who can sense the shift in the atmosphere, tries to intervene. “Look, I don’t even know if it’s a guarantee, I still have to ask the board.”

Your heart drops. “No. I need the time. You said you’d get me the time.” 

Remus, who has unfortunately been caught in both James and your fury, doesn't know how to turn this conversation around. 

“And what about your work, do you even go to class anymore?” 

“I’m doing great in all my classes.”

“That doesn't answer whether you're going.” 

“What does it matter? Virtual or not, It’s only until after the competition.” 

James takes his glasses off and rubs at his forehead like he’s trying to ward off an oncoming headache. “So, just like that, you get the time, extensions on school work, and a pass from all the appointments you missed with Doc.”

You sigh, “I don’t get it James, are you jealous, is that what it is?” 

This strikes a nerve in James. “You think that's what this is about?”

“Well” you throw your hands up, “what else could be?”

James puts his glasses back on and steps up to you, “You know what, if you want to overwork yourself and fuck up any chance you get at the actual competition, go ahead, seems like everyone is right behind you.” with that, James storms out the office. 

Remus walks out from behind the desk and gives a light squeeze to your shoulder, “I don’t understand why you two work each other up so much.” 

“He’s wrong,” you say quietly. Remus listens. “I’m better than I’ve ever been. I need this Remus, I need to win this. I need to show everyone that I can do it.” 

Remus, with a sad look in his eyes, pulls you in for a hug. “Everyone knows you can, you’re amazing.” 

You sigh and pull away. “It doesn’t matter how good I am, all everyone sees now is the girl who messed up last year. All my hard work was reduced to one stupid mistake. I have to get it right this time.” 

Remus just sighs, he’s seen this version of you before, and he doesn’t like where it’s going.

He grabs you by the shoulders, “Promise that you’ll go to Doc.” 

“Promise that you’ll get me my time.”

He sticks out his pinky, encouraging you to lock yours with his. You do. 

“Thank Rem” 

“Don’t make me regret love.” 

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

To everyone's surprise, the board does accept your request for additional time. You're ecstatic. Coach won’t show it but you know she’s semi-impressed. 

With the new time, the ending of your practice marked the beginning of the kid's ice class. Every time you did any sort of jump or spin you could hear a dozen little aws and wows. 

You felt fantastic, Coach was in a decent mood, and practice was long but the scary women had minimal feedback. For the first time in a long time, you felt on top of the world.  

“Okay, that’s enough for today.” 

You walk off the ice, putting your guards on. Coach gives you final pointers and is out of the building before you can say bye. 

You sat on the bench, undoing the laces of your skates when a group of the girls from before comes up to you. They flutter around you, asking all sorts of questions and giving endless praises. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t feel your heart swell with pride and joy. 

You're talking about costumes when you hear your name being called. Standing towards the entryway are Doc and James. 

You knew this day was going to well, you had forgotten that today was your scheduled appointment with Doc. As for James, every time you see him your day is ruined. The two of you hadn’t spoken since the whole incident in the office. Remus had tried to get the both of you to make amends but neither of you had the intention of doing so. 

You put your slipper on and make your way over to pair. 

“Hey remember me? Long time no see.” You know Doc is trying to be silly but your heart beating faster at the mere thought of having to get checked up. 

The bespectacled figure clears his throat. “Haven't you heard Doc, our ice princess got more ice time so she's been pretty busy.”

You cross your arms. Reaching a hand to rest on your sternum, feeling a slight tug at every breath you take. 

Doc disregards James petty comment, immediately picking up on your discomfort. “You okay?” 

James looks puzzled, glancing back and forth between the two of you, looking for whatever he missed. 

You shrug. “Yeah, it's just, well..you know.” Doc just nods. 

“Know what?” James blurts out. From the look on his face, you can tell that he didn't mean to say that out loud. 

You frown, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly something.”

“Okay, well it’s none of your business is it.” 

“OKAY,” Doc yells, cutting both of you off. “James I’ll do what we talk about, now move along.” 

James lingers for a bit before he finally walks off. 

“Now you” Doc starts, “Shall come with me.” 

You know that there isn’t any way to avoid this and follow right behind him. 

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

Doc makes small talk throughout your checkup. You give replies, trying your best not to come off like you don’t want to be there. 

You’re in the middle of doing a stretch when Doc says “So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” 

You lay on your back and bring a knee up to your chest, staring up at the ceiling. “Do we have to?”

Doc hums, “I think we should.”

You bring your leg down and lift the other to your chest “Okay, well then I guess.”

Doc stands at your side and offers a hand to bring you up from the ground. You sit on the ground and Doc sits in front of you. “I need you to know that what I did, was not only part of my job as your doctor but as someone who cares deeply for you lot.” 

You fidget with your fingers as Doc continues. “And I had to report the appointments that you were missing. I know you guys like to joke around with me but I am a healthcare provider before anything else and you can loathe me all you want but know my actions are never meant to harm you.”

Ugh, you feel like such an asshole now. “I don’t hate you Doc, I know you're just doing your job. I think-” you pause, trying to gather your thoughts, “I think in my head If I didn’t do my checkups, there wouldn’t be anyone to tell me that something could potentially be wrong.” 

Doc nods, and you continue “I should’ve listened to you back then, with or without the jump I would've lost anyway.” You say with a sad smile. “This time has to be different, I have to land that jump, I have to win this one.” 

Doc gives you an odd look. “I’ll be watching you like a hawk, you need to take care of yourself. I won’t watch you hurt yourself for this again, will you hate me then?”

You feel your body stiffen, you need this, so you think you might. 

“I mean it when I say this one is mine this year.” you have never been more serious in your life. 

“Oh trust me, I believe you.” 

It doesn’t have to be said, but you think that you and Doc might be a bit further apart than before. 

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

You’re counting down the weeks. The competition is getting closer with each day that passes. You’ve spent more time at the arena over the past couple of weeks than you have in your dorm. 

Practice isn’t until later today, but you ambushed Remus when he was walking into the rink this morning. 

Now here you are, skating freely in the dimly lit rink. Remus gets horrible migraines and chooses to leave the lights off for as long as he can. 

You glide across the rink, twisting and turning whenever you please. Some time has passed when you come to a stop. All you can hear is the sound of your labored breath. You do your breathing techniques, trying your best to regulate your heartbeat. 

Your nerves spike back up when you see James skating towards you and feel speed. 

He halts right in front of you. “Are you okay?” 

All you can do is nod, not being able to form words quite yet. James doesn’t say anything else for a while. He watches and waits as you catch your breath. 

When you seem to have calmed down he jumps to question you. “What on earth was that?” 

You shrug, “I just got a bit winded I guess.” He blinks at you, “That's not the first time it happened though.” 

James, always so annoyingly inquisitive. 

“I’m fine James, where the hell did you come from anyway? The rink isn’t open yet.” 

You both kick into a slow skate around the rink. “That's rich, considering you’re here too. Also, you forget that Remus is one of my best friends.”

“How could I forget, you remind me every time I interact with him.” 

“Well, that's because I can’t seem to understand what hold you’ve got over him. He folds instantly when it comes to you. You know I had to beg him for 20 minutes to let me in.” 

You give a triumphant smile, “Remus and I have a bond that exceeds any and all relationship types, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

James scowls, ‘Stop talking about your special bond with Remus.” 

“Jealous?” 

“No!” James responded a bit too quickly. “More like deeply disturbed.” 

“Not as disturbing as you and Sirius,” you say, skating a bit faster to get ahead of him. 

“Hey! Don’t bring Sirius into this.” 

You tsk, “So quick to defend his honor. Tell him I’m still waiting on our date by the way.” 

“Oh please, Sirius goes on dates with anything that moves so don’t hold your breath.” Whatever honor and respect James had for his best friend earlier is out the window. 

You hum, not offering him a real response. James, changing the subject, “Was that a routine earlier?” 

“A routine with no music?” you ask sarcastically.

James rolls his eyes, “I'm just asking because it looked familiar.” 

Familiar? Why would it look familiar? 

“Spend your days off watching figure skating routines?” you say as you skate backward in front of him. 

He shakes his head, “No, just yours.” he doubles down quickly, “Well cause, we skate at the same rink and all that.” 

It’s too late, what he’s said has already gone to your head. You bring a hand to your heart mockingly, “The James Potter, Hockey legend, watches my routines. What an honor.”

James makes a face at you, “Oh whatever, forget I said anything.” 

You continue “I can’t believe I am skating with James Potter.” you say as you skate around him. 

James can’t help but laugh. “Okay quit it you’re gonna make me dizzy. God knows how you spin the way you do without throwing up.”

You continue at his side. “Years and years of practice.” 

“So, the routine, what's it from?” 

You let out a long sigh, “It was bits and pieces from my finals routine last year.” 

James says a quiet ‘oh’ 

“Mhm” is all you can offer back.

“I was there, you know?” James fidgets with his glasses. “Well, I mean, me and the whole team—half of the university, really.” 

This shocks you. You knew a lot of peers and locals from your university town showed overwhelming support, but for some reason, knowing James was there makes you…happy? 

“Well, you picked the worst one to turn up to.” You try to make a light-hearted joke, but it doesn’t work. 

James comes to a stop on the ice. You stop with him. “You really scared everyone.” 

You scoff, “More like disappointed everyone.” 

“No” James replies sharply, “I can assure you that no one in that arena was disappointed and you’ve got to stop thinking that.” 

You feel an argument brewing. “And what about you James? What did you feel? Please share with the gallery.”

“I-”  he pauses for a second. “I was scared too, and then I was angry.” 

“Angry?” 

He nods, “Angry. I was angry at you. I was angry that you’d attempt to do something so-” 

He cuts himself off, trying to restrain himself.

“Something so what James? Go on say it” You egg him on.

He yanks his glasses off his face, a habit he has when he’s frustrated. “Fine! Something so stupid. I couldn’t, for the life of me wrap my head around why you would purposely do something so stupid.” James doesn’t stop there. “I couldn’t understand why you would disregard Doc's orders. I was angry that you had such little regard for yourself and your body.” James throws his hands up,” and all for what?”  

You clench your fist tight at your side. You feel the anger flare up inside you. “All for what?” you laugh bitterly. “Is that how you see what I do?” 

James doesn’t respond. His silence only angers you more. “I did what I thought was necessary okay? I worked too hard all last year to just give it up. I made a mistake, I understand that, and I have spent every moment since then trying to make it up.”

You inch closer towards James, “Do you know how humiliating it is to have all my hard work be reduced down to one single mistake? I am perfect my whole career but the second I have one slip-up I'm stripped of all my wins, all my medals. Everything I’ve worked for, completely disregarded.”

James stares at you with wide eyes. “Is this what this is about? About ruining your perfect reign? Do you know how insane that sounds?”

You groan, “I could hold my tongue hearing this from anyone else, but you of all people James, Seriously? You are such a hypocrite.” 

James glares at you. “And what exactly are you alluding to?”

“You,” you say, shoving a finger in his chest, “are a hypocrite. You think I don’t see what you’ve been doing. Ever since Pete left you have been overcompensating, trying to fill a role all by yourself. The late night and early morning practices. Taking on extra responsibility on the ice. Spreading yourself thin to make it to nationals. 

“That’s different.” 

You laugh “How on earth is different James?” you can't believe this guy. 

“It’s different because It’s temporary until we find someone else. It’s different because I take care of myself. It’s different because it’s a whole team of us that care about each other. Yeah, I'm stepping up right now but I can always step back and rely on the guys if I need to. You, however, have..well you just don’t..” he sighs, “you’re alone.”

You back up from him, “You’re unbelievable.” you start skating to exit the rink. You hear James call after you. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever James, just leave me alone.”

“Would you just let me explain?” he desperately calls out. You swivel around the ice quickly, turning to face him. You have a snarky remark to give but it's out the window when James fully runs into you. Before both of you can catch yourselves, you both fall onto the ice. 

You yelp out in pain when James falls right onto your foot. He’s off of you quickly. “Holy shit are you okay?”  

You don’t answer, attempting to stand up. When you put pressure on your right foot, a sharp pain shoots through your ankle. James must see the pain in your face, “I'm so sorry I didn’t think you were going to stop. Let me help you back.” 

You shake him off, “No it’s fine, I’m fine.” you go to kick off the ice and the pain brings you to your knees. James reaches for you but you push his hands away.

No no no, this can’t be happening. You feel your heart start to pick up. You can barely hear James over the ringing in your ear. You stand up one more time, pushing off with your left leg this time. You make it somewhere but when you push off your right leg out of habit you double over in pain. 

You hear James grimace from behind you. “Alright, that's enough.” James wraps your arm over his shoulder and takes most of your weight. You can’t deny him, having no other way to get off the ice. He glides the both of you to the exit. The second your feet reach the matted floors you push away from him and limp to the nearest bench. You're pulling and tugging at your laces aggressively. When your skate is loose enough you yank your foot out, crying out in pain. You roll your sock down both you and James gasp. You throw the skate that’s in your hand.

You bring your hands to your eyes, feeling that annoying sting. “Fuck!” This is not happening. You did not just ruin your chances for this year because of one little accident. 

“I have to get Remus.” you grip James' wrist stopping him in his tracks. “Absolutely not!” 

James tries to pull his wrist from you but you bring your other hand to grab at it. “Don’t say anything, please. I promise I’m fine.” James looks at you bewildered, “Are you insane? Your ankle is purple.” 

“I bruise easily. I promise it's fine.” 

“Walk on it.” 

What. “What?” 

James shrugs, “Walk on it. Walk from here to those bleachers.” 

You go stand up, his eyes never leaving you. You take your first step and feel the same sharp pain you flinch but take your next step. You take step after step, pushing through the blinding pain. You make it to the bleachers and turn to face James. “See, it’s fine.” 

James stares at you in disbelief. He walks up to you “You are unbelievable.” He grits out. 

James leaves without saying anything else. Leaving you in the dark arena. 

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

It’s been three days. You managed to convince Coach to give you time off, telling her that you had some projects to catch up on. Pleased with your recent performance, she reluctantly granted you some free time. No practice meant no Doc visits. Three days and radio silence from James. You were so sure that he would've said something to someone by now but you aren't called in for any meeting or evaluations. 

Three days later and your ankle is still purple and throbbing. You’ve taken way too many painkillers for it to be safe but it’s your first day back and you have to act like you feel fine. 

You walk into the building. You put on a smile and are prepared to give the best performance of your lifetime. Coach is already standing by the ice. You go towards the locker rooms but you stop when she yells your name. 

She looks annoyed when you walk up to her. “Hey Coach” 

She puts her phone down. “Look, they are cutting into your time today because they have to get the ice ready for the game tonight. I’m going to need you to do a quick warm-up and get right into running the routine. Jumps and all.” 

You nod, “Yes ma’am.” 

You put your bag down on the bench and start getting ready. You’re lacing up your skates when you hear a chorus of laughter. You lift your head to see James, Remus, and Sirius all chit-chatting while exiting the office hallway. Sirius catches your eye and you’re too slow to look away. He’s caught you. 

“Lapin!” 

Oh god. 

You hear them make their way over. 

“Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in ages.” 

You yank tightly at your laces and wrap them around your ankle. “Oh don’t exaggerate. It was only three days.”

Sirius scoffs, slouching down onto the bench next to you. “Yeah, that’s forever for you. I feel like lately you’ve been here every day.” you roll your eyes at him. 

“I had schoolwork to catch up on.”

Remus hums, “Look at you. Working hard.” 

You lean back on the bench. “What can I say? Anyway, I’m back. Try not to stare too hard Sirius.” 

Sirius' shoulder bumps you. “Hey, what about Remus?” 

You stand up, “You my darling.” pointing a finger at Remus. “Can stare as long and hard as you’d like to.”

There is a slight tinge of pink on Remus’s face but he laughs it off. “Quit you two.”

Your attention turns to James clearing his throat. This whole time he hadn’t said anything, just staring at you, analyzing your every move.

The two of you stare at each other, tension thick in the air. He drags his eyes slowly down your body. Any other person would think he has no shame but you know it’s nothing like that. You know exactly what he’s looking for. James' eyes linger on your ankle, mostly hidden by your skates. 

James tilts his head, “Hmm” 

Sirius and Remus, having no idea what's going on, simply stand there. 

“Hmm? That’s all you're gonna say?” 

Jamea shrugs. “What else is there to say? Everythings fine.” 

For the past three days you’ve done nothing but worry about James snitching on you. It’s brought you nothing but stress and anxiety. Why hasn’t he said anything?

You open your mouth to say something. “Yeah sure everythi-”

“Lapin! On the ice. Now!” 

James continues staring at you. If he thinks you’re going to crack, he’s going to be waiting for the rest of the day. 

You walk away with as much ease and poise as you can. 

The pain in your foot isn’t gone. You’ve got a purple bump to prove it but you’ve taken enough pain meds to hold off some of the pain for now. You skate around the ice, warming up. Every time you kick off you feel the twinging pain but do your best to ignore it. Coach doesn’t let you warm up for long. 

“Lapin, run the routine.” 

You’re heart drops, you didn’t think she’d get straight into it but she must want to take advantage of the time you had on the ice. 

You take a deep breath, already feeling the normal burning sensation in your lungs. You get into position. You steady yourself into your starting pose. You lock eyes with James. They’re all leaning onto barriers. Neither of you breaks eye contact. Finally, you hear the starting notes of your music and begin. You kick off beautifully, moving across the rink in a matter of seconds. You glide elegantly across the ice. The music begins to swell, the first jump is coming up. You breathe in, brace yourself, and jump. You spin, almost landing perfectly. There is a bit of wobble but nothing you can't make up in the next couple of jumps. You continue your program. You jump again. Spinning and landing. This one is perfect, no wobble. You keep moving, swelling with pride. You can’t see anyone but the lack of yelling lets you know that Coach is somewhat satisfied with the jumps. You push on, beginning to feel the pain in your foot. You ignore it as best you can. It’s when you're landing your third jump that the pain shoots up through your ankle. It leaves you breathless for a second but you compose yourself. You skate, you skate and skate and skate until you hear yelling over the music. 

“Get her off the ice right now!” 

You bring yourself to a stop. You look over to the commotion and see the coach with Doc. Standing right next to both of them is James. 

You stay on the ice, trying to catch your breath. 

It’s Coach's turn to yell at you. “Lapin, come here right this instance.” 

Your heart continues beating quickly. You make your way over and when you're at the exit, Coach is pulling you by the arm, heading straight for the benches. 

“Sit.” 

You look between her and Doc, you can’t even bear to look at James. 

“What on Earth is going on?!” 

“Take your skates off!”

“Excuse me?”

“Skates. Off. Now.” 

You reach to slowly start untying your skates. It doesn’t matter how slow you move. They all sit and wait.

Once they’re both off Doc kneels and reaches for your ankles immediately.

“Woah what the hell are you doing?”

“Which one James?”

Your head snaps towards James. You’re caught, you know it, but if James says something now you’ll hate him for the rest of your life. 

James must see it in your face. He’s silent for a second.

“Which one is James? I'm not going to ask again.” 

James looks away and answers. “The right one.” 

Without another second wasted, Doc is yanking your sock down, revealing a swollen purple ankle. Both Doc and Coach gasp. 

“Lapin, what the hell were you thinking?” 

You scramble to save this. “It’s not as bad as it looks! I promise!”

You look between Coach and Doc and all you see is pure disappointment. Coach runs a hand through her hair.

“Why? Why are you so adamant about hurting yourself? Do you not realize that you could mess this up beyond repair. What will you do then?”

Your eyes start to sting and you feel them watering up. “I didn’t mean to. It was a stupid accident.”

“Well, that’s exactly my point. You are a star athlete. What are you doing having stupid accidents? You are meant to be taking care of yourself.”

You feel the tears begin to fall. “Oh, now you care? Where was this lecture when you let me skate last year? Or how about all the times I skipped my appointments? How many appointments did you let go unattended? How many times did you look the other way?” 

You stare at your coach in anger and she looks right back at you with a look you can’t place. 

Doc cuts in. “We need to get it checked out.” You go to stand up and Doc tries to help you immediately. “You really shouldn’t be walking on it.” 

“I’ve been doing it just fine.” 

Doc shakes his head and reaches to help again. “I mean it. I don’t want you walking on it. James can you come hel-” 

You cut him off immediately. “Absolutely not. I said I’m fine. I can walk by myself.” 

Realizing that he can’t stop you, Doc lets you start making your way to his office. James follows behind immediately, calling you names. You ignore him but he won’t stop. He grabs your arm. You hear him quietly beg “Please, can you just listen.” 

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “I never want to hear from you again, James Potter. I hate you.” you spit out venomously. James displays a clear look of hurt. You leave him there, making your way down the hall alone.

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

After a thorough investigation, Doc diagnoses you with a bad sprain. It would have been fine if you had sought medical help immediately, or so he says. You don’t speak if you don’t have to, only offering quiet yes’s and no’s. 

Doc is finishing up when you do finally speak a full sentence. “When am I cleared to skate again?” 

Doc sighs, like who knew the question was coming. “Well, that’ll be up to you.”

He moves around the room, gathering things for your kit while speaking. “You wanna get better fast, you’re gonna have to take care of that ankle.” he walks over, handing you the kit and paperwork. “That means no agitating it, no skating, and definitely no competition.” 

You knew this was coming but hearing it breaks your heart. You feel your eyes start to water again. 

“Look,” Doc starts. “I'm really sorry. I knew how much this meant to you.” His words go in one ear and out the other. You silently stand up and grab all your things. You can’t bear to be in this rink anymore. You reach for the newly prescribed crutches and adjust yourself. Doc watches silently. You whisper a quiet thank you and goodbye. You make your way out of the building, trying your best to ignore all the stares. The rink, now busy with people waiting for the upcoming game. 

Everyone pushes to get in when you want nothing more than to get out. Every look you receive is filled with pity that you don’t want. You finally make it out, trekking through the parking lot to get to your car. Once you're in you turn it on and drive in silence. When you're in your dorm you head straight to bed. Holding onto one last hope that all of this is just a dream. 

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

You know you shouldn’t be here. Well, technically nothing is stopping you from being here. But with Coach currently giving you the cold shoulder, Doc banning you from skating, and James on your hate list, Coming to the rink might not be the smartest of ideas. 

That is why you are here right now, at night. You’ve been out for over a week and feel like you’ve been going stir-crazy in your room. Technically the rink is closed. It has been for the past three hours. However, you know Burnie, the maintenance man, doesn’t leave until a while after. 

You’re shaking in the cold when you see him walk out the front, going to lock it. He smiles when he sees you. You can't help but smile back. “Hey Burnie.” 

“Hey sweetheart” He greets you with just as much enthusiasm as always. “Whatcha doing here?”

“I forgot a couple of things in the locker room. Thought it might be time I come and get it.” 

He eyes you suspiciously. You can’t help but laugh. “Burnie I promise I’m just here for some things. Look, no bag, no skates,” you say as you spin in a circle for him.

He reaches to steady you. “Woah okay now. Be careful on that foot.” he sighs. “Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna trust you on this, run in and grab your things and I’ll wait for you right here.” 

“What, Burnie no. I'm not gonna make you wait out here in the cold. Plus you shouldn’t have to stay a second later. I already feel bad keeping you right now.” 

Burnie’s still wavering. You sigh. “Look Burnie, I’m in a boot and I don’t know if you know this but these are a pain to take off. Both literally and physically. I just need to grab my things but I don’t want you waiting out here on me when you could be halfway home.”

“Fine. You’ve convinced me. Don’t let me find out that you were skating or we're gonna have some problems, sweetheart.”

You giggle pointing at your boot. “Burnie, I already told you I can’t.” 

He waves a hand, walking away. “Knowing you? You’d find a way. There are keys in Remus's desk. Lock the front door when you're done.” 

“Sir yes Sir.”

You make your way into the lockers, finding your bag of things that you always leave here. You grab it and walk out to the rink. You slump down onto the bench. You start rummaging through your bag. You smile as you find all sorts of knick-knacks. 

You pull out what you were looking for, your old skates. You smile fondly as you remember the skating you did in them. Your happiness morphed into sadness when remembering the people who bought you the skates. You hadn’t seen your parents since you moved out to college. Your skating was too mediocre for them to fly out and watch. You remember every single time they turned down your invitations, telling you it would be “A waste of time”.

 How could that be? You had everyone telling you you’re the best skater they’ve seen in ages. You have a world champion for a coach. You have so many people coming out to watch you. How can you have all of that and it still not be enough to make your parents see you? 

This is why you had to be fantastic. You were supposed to be perfect this year and the last and you ruined it. You still hadn’t told your parents about your injury. You could still hear your mother on the phone from last year. The disappointment, the lack of worry for her child, and worst of all, her deadpan voice muttering into the phone, “What did we expect, knowing you.” 

You’re squeezing the skates tightly, you feel your breath pick up. You pinch your eyes shut. Nonono this cannot be happening. You know this feeling all too well. You put your hands over your ears and bring your head down. You feel the familiar tightness in your chest. You try to breathe in and out but your airways feel constricted. You sit up and start rummaging through your bag looking for an inhaler. You find one and pull it out, panicking more when you realize that it’s out of pumps. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. Hearing the heavy thump over and over again. You get up. You know you have one in your car, you just have to make it out there. 

You start walking, trying your best to slow down your breathing. You can start to see the light coming from the front when you hear someone unlocking the door. You walk around the corner, fully expecting to see Burnie who’s come back to kick you out. You freeze when the person turns around. 

You and James both stop in your places both gasping in shock. 

“Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me,” he says with a hand over his heart. 

You don’t have time for James, so you walk right past him. James takes your silence as an insult.

“Are you still ignoring me?” you don’t answer, you fumble to get the keys out of your pocket. Reaching to unlock the door. When you do, you book it out to the parking lot. You can hear James following you. 

“Seriously, you don’t show up for a week and then I find you here in the middle of the night. What were you doing anyways?” he continues behind you. James' tone changes, seeming to land on the only possible explanation. “You were skating weren’t you?” you get your car keys out of your pocket and start clicking on the unlock button over and over again. 

“God” he scoffs, “You’re insane. That has to be the only explanation.” whatever else James says you can’t hear. The pain in your chest is unbearable and you start to cough at the lack of air in your lungs. The cold makes every sharp inhale burn. You finally make it to your car and swing the back door open. You jump in, yanking your bag out from under the seat. You dig through it and pull your inhaler out. You bring it to your mouth and inhale instantly.  

You sit up, breathing in. Your eyes are closed but you can hear James' shoes scuff to a stop right outside your open door. You stay like this for a while. You finally feel your heart start to slow and the burning in your chest is subsiding. You open your eyes and see James staring back at you with wide eyes. 

“Holy shit you have asthma?” 

His complete 180 in emotions gives you whiplash. 

“Yes you dickhead, I have asthma.”

James completely disregards the insult. “You had asthma this whole time. That's what Doc was asking about right? Or that time on the ice? When you get winded?” 

You just nod.

“Yeah, you’re definitely insane.”  you lean forward to smack his arm. “Quit calling me crazy!”

James rests a hand on the top of the car, leaning in, getting a better look at you in the back seat. 

“I’m not calling you crazy. I’m calling you insane.” 

You cross your arms. “So what, I have asthma. Plenty of athletes have asthma,” you say, looking up at him. 

James runs a hand through his hair. “That isn’t the point. I just wish- If you could just-” Without another word he’s getting into the backseat, pushing you over to make room for him. 

James clears his throat. “Listen, I’m going to say something and I need you to listen.”

Whatever you're about to say, James doesn’t let you. “Promise. Promise you won’t say anything until I’m finished talking.”  You stare down at James' hand, pinky extended, waiting for yours. 

You wrap your pinky around his. He drops his hand but keeps his finger interlocked with yours. You don’t pull away. 

“I think you should take a break from skating.” 

 You roll your eyes. You push away from James but his pinky tightens around yours. 

“Wait! You promised you’d listen.”

He’s got a desperate look on his face. “I watch you.” 

“James what?”

“Okay no, but yes.” He clarifies. “God I’m really bad at this. What I want to say is that I notice you okay? The second you started skating here I noticed you.” 

“You are frustratingly good on the ice. You’ve gotten title after title and it's got everything to do with you” James looks down, fidgeting with your joint pinkies. Ears red. “But ever since your incident last year you’ve gotten so…” he trails off looking for the right word. “Aggressive” 

“You’ve gotten so aggressive with your technique, on the ice, and with yourself. There’s something different about you. Everyone thinks it's a newfound determination but I can see it in your eyes, it’s something else. You skate with no regard for your body. What happens when you push it too far? What happens when you force yourself so hard that your body gives up on you? What will you do then?” 

The silence is heavy over you both. You look at James and he looks back at you with so much emotion, searching for an answer.

You let out a shaky breath. “What am I if I can’t skate? Can you tell me, James?” 

He stumbles over his words, clearly thrown off by your question. He comes up blank. 

“Exactly. Skating is all I have, it’s all I am.”

James shakes his head. “No, that isn’t true.”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “Do you think I’d be here right now if it weren’t for my skating? I’m here because it’s what I'm good at. I have so many people betting on me, so many expectations to uphold, so many people to prove that I’m worth it.” 

James leans in closer and speaks gently. “Why do you think that you aren’t already the best? Why is it so hard to believe that you are amazing at what you do?” 

His gentle tone does little to comfort you. He doesn’t get it. “If I’m so great how come my parents won’t come to see me?” you yell, your tone coming off harsher than you had intended. 

You recognize the emotion behind James' stare, it’s pity and you hate it.

You can’t bear to look at him, embarrassed by your outburst. 

“Hey,” you keep your gaze towards your lap. 

“Hey, look at me.” you feel his hand come under your chin as he lifts your face to meet his eyes. 

He unlatches his pinky from yours and brings his hand up to hold your face. 

“Is that what it is, you feel like you’ve got a crowd to appeal to? Well, guess what? You don’t owe anyone anything. You skate because you love it not because you feel the need to meet intangible expectations. If your parents can’t see how good you are then that's on them, you don’t need them.”

You groan and reach for his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. “That's easy for you to say.” 

James furrows his brows at that, “What’s that supposed to mean.” 

“You have your parents here offering you endless support. No offense, but you could sit out an entire game and they’d still whoop and holler about how proud they are of you. You have a team that worships the ground you walk on. You have Remus and Sirius. What do I have? Who do I have? Coach?” You raise a hand to wipe away your tears but it’s no use. “I’m a thousand miles away from everything and everyone that I love. Being good, no, being fucking fantastic is the only way to get their attention. So if that’s what I need to be then so be it.” 

You let out one shaky breath and it all breaks loose. You bury your head in your hands, trying to muffle whatever mess you look like from James. After a short moment of sobbing into your hands, you feel hands pull at your arms. Before you know it, James is pulling you into a warm embrace. 

The angle is a bit awkward, considering the size of your backseat but he still manages to get his arms wrapped around you. Your head lands on his chest, ear pressed against it. You stiffen at first but slowly wrap your arms around him. You both sit in silence. He gently runs a hand up and down your back, while the other rests on the back of your head, holding it. You listen to the beat of his heart, which moves rapidly. You can’t help but smile slightly. Despite being the one to make a bold gesture, he’s the nervous one. 

“You aren’t as alone as you think.” 

“What?” You go to lift your head but James pushes it back onto his chest. Heart beating quicker.

“You're Not alone. You have Sirius and Remus, just as much as I do if not more. They adore you a little too much. And whether you believe it or not you have Doc and just about everyone else who you cross paths with in the rink.” 

He clears his throat for the next one. “And you have me.” 

It’s said so quickly you almost miss it. You’re sure you would’ve if you weren’t so close to him.

You go to lift your head again but he pushes it back down. You groan. “James.”

He doesn’t respond. You go to move but he holds you in place again. “James Potter, let me look at you.” 

He doesn’t budge, “I’d rather you didn’t” 

“James, if you don’t let me move, so help me god.” 

Your tone seems to do it. His hand slips from where it rested on your head. Once you get a good look at him, you almost laugh at the sight in front of you. James Potter, Red in the face, with a look of embarrassment so bad, he could die. He looks everywhere but at you. Eyes darting around the car.

“James”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

He does for a second and then looks away.

“James,” you say sternly.

“Yes?” He says picking at the seats.

Without putting much thought into it you smack both hands on his face, forcing him to look at you. You seemed to surprise him more than yourself. James stares at you with wide eyes. You’d done it without thinking and how you have no course of action. 

You both blink at each other. 

“What was it that you said just now?” 

He doesn’t turn away this time. That's progress. “What were we talking about?” he says with a dazy voice. You look at him expectantly. James, who realizes he has nowhere to go, blurts it out. 

“I said that you have me. There. Happy?” he doesn't stop there. “I said you have me because you do. All the time, every day I'm thinking about you, which is crazy considering how much you berate me. But that must be it. I must be crazy because I love it all the same. I care about you, even though half the time you make me want to slam my head into a locker, I care. So, yes, you have me.”

Through your hands, you feel the heat of his face. Despite the strong blush and red ears, James looks at you so earnestly that you can’t help what comes next. 

Hands still on his face you pull him forward into a kiss. He freezes and you pull away. Just for a split moment, you worry that you made a mistake. But before you know it James surges forward, reconnecting your lips. Whatever hesitation there was before, is gone now. 

His lips move against yours slowly, tentatively, exploring. You feel a finger trace the line of your jaw. Then the hand slips behind your head, bringing you closer. The sweet kiss now deepened with the hunger shared between you both. You raise your arms to wrap around his neck. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t stop.

With his newfound confidence, James moves forward. Your back hits the seat and James hovers over you now. He moves to lay himself over you. You feel his hand running up and down your side. You gasp into the kiss when a cold hand slips under your shirt, resting on your bare waist. James groans at the feeling of your bare skin, squeezing your side. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t want to stop, ever. But the more James runs his hands over you and kisses you with an insatiable passion, the less you can breathe.

 You ignore it at first, but the aching in your chest only gets stronger. You feel like you’re drowning, and you decide that hyperventilating while making out isn’t the way to go so in one swift motion you sit up, pushing James off of you. 

You breathe in harshly. James now sits up straight, staring at you wide-eyed, glasses askew. You laugh but it sends you right into a coughing fit. You start to panic a bit and search for your inhaler. James snaps out of his daze and seems to get the memo. After what feels like forever, James lifts the inhaler. “Got it” he yells triumphantly. 

Snatching it from his hand, you take a couple of puffs, breathing in and out slowly. 

“Woah. I guess you could say I took your breath away.” 

You shoot him a look but can’t help but burst out laughing. James' laugh follows.

“No, seriously though. Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit winded.”

James smirks, seemingly a bit too proud. “Sorry about that,” he says with fake sympathy.

“Sorry about what? Trying to eat my face off or trying to take me in the back of my car?”  

James' face goes bright red. You don’t understand how he can be so confident yet so easily embarrassed.  

“I-I okay, woah, I-” He stutters over his words.

“Gosh James, I thought you’d have a bit more class than that.” 

He scoffs, “I have plenty of class and I don’t think I heard any complaints from you.” 

You shrug, “Could’ve been better.” 

James' jaw falls open in disbelief. “Oh really now.”

“Yup” 

Before you know it he’s bringing you down to your back and you let out a yelp of surprise. 

“Well since you’re so great I guess you’ll have to help me practice.”

You hum. “Oh yes, you’ll need all the practice you can get.” 

James lets out a loud laugh, making your heart flutter. “Yeah, well let's hope you don’t have to reach for your inhaler every 5 minutes.”

You smack his shoulder. “Hey! I am a star athlete. I don’t think a little acti-” 

James cuts you off, bringing his lips to yours. This time it's soft and sweet. James pulls away. “Talking to you is going to be a lot easier now that I can do that.”

“Keep talking and that’ll be the last time you get to do that.”

James nods quickly. “Yes ma’am. Message received.” 

With a nod from you, James is back on you. He leans into you heavily, moving his lips with yours. You reach up for his glasses, feeling them start to dig into your face. James' hand comes to your wrist, stopping you. Pulling away, he rushes out a ‘wait!’

You look at him confused. “What?”

“Don’t take them off.”

“James, as much as I love your glasses, they’re digging into my face.” 

James blinks at you with a slight pout on his face. “I can’t see anything when I take them off.”

“Okay?” 

He sighs, “I can’t see you when I take them off.” 

You roll your eyes at him. “James Potter you are such a sap.” 

He rolls his eyes back at you. “Yeah, well you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I suppose I will. Okay they can stay on”

James smiles brightly. “Yay! Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

And who are you to deny him?

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

“Alright, you guys did great today! Don’t forget to tell your parents that there won't be any classes next week.” you hear a chorus of answers promising they will. Considering you’re talking to a bunch of toddlers, you make a mental note to send out an email. 

You guide them off the ice and towards their parents, waving bye to them all. 

You’ve been helping teach the toddler class while their coach is out of town. Doc hadn't fully cleared you but gave you the green light to teach the little ones.

You make your way towards the office to drop off the sign-in forms. When you walk in, you’re greeted by a smiling Remus. 

“Hello, love. How are the tots?”

You give him a tired smile, “Rambunctious as always.”

Remus laughs, taking the papers from you. “You think you’d take this opportunity to get away from this place but no.”

You lean forward on the counter. “And miss out on seeing you every day? No way.” 

Remus shakes his head, turning away from you. Ears slightly pink. “You’re insufferable.” 

Before you can respond you hear someone else enter the office. More like two someones.

James and Sirius walk over to where you’re talking to Remus. James' eyes shift from you to Remus’ red ears and then back to you.

“Hey, I thought I told you to stop flirting with Remus.” He says with a slight frown. 

You shrug, “I’ve done no such thing.”  

James rolls his eyes. “Yeah right. Liar.”

Sirius and Remus erupt in laughter as James pouts. 

Sirius ruffles James' hair. “Oh James, it’s sweet that you think you can stop whatever it is they’ve got going on.” 

James huffs, pointing at Remus. “You’ve got to stop whatever alluring charm you’ve got going on.”

Sirius laughs harder. Remus gives James a cheeky smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just myself.” 

You swoon dramatically at his words. “Oh, Remus.” 

“Hey! No, don't swoon!” James says, looking frantically between the two of you. 

Remus and Sirius roar in laughter at his reaction. 

With the other two still laughing, James walks over to you. You give him a sweet smile. 

He frowns at you. “Why do you insist on giving me a hard time?”

“Someone's got to keep you on your toes, humble you a bit.” He glares at you but breaks into a smile of his own. 

With Sirius and Remus now wrapped up in their own conversation, James leans in a bit closer. 

“Hm, humble me? How can I be humble when you’re praising me all the time when we-” You slap a hand over his mouth, blushing furiously. You feel him smirk against your hand. 

He reaches for your wrist, pulling your hand away, giving it a soft kiss. “How were the lessons?” He says changing the subject.

“They were great. Lenny didn’t cry at all this time.” 

He gives you an encouraging pat on the waist. "Nice, and what about your foot?” 

You shrug, “It feels fine. I think stretching before ice time helps.” 

James smiles. “You’ve been doing the stretches?” 

You nod. He gives you a high five “That's my girl.” 

He goes silent, looking between you and his friend's chit-chatting. He leans in, whispering into your ear. 

“Hey, when's your appointment with Doc again?”

You think for a minute. “Um, not till this afternoon, why?” 

“So you’re free right now?”

“Yeah”

“What a coincidence, so am I.” He says with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

A moment pauses.

“Well. What are you waiting for?” 

James springs into action. His hand grabs yours, leading the both of you out of the office. 

“Hey, where are the two going?” 

Without turning around James yells out “Practice” You can’t help but laugh at the confused responses you get from Sirius and Remus. 

James continues down his path, determined.

“Wait James, what about my bag and my-”

He pats the side of his bag. Hanging from a chain is one of your backup inhalers. You stare at him in shock. With a quick kiss on the forehead and a cheeky smile, James continues to drag you both out of the rink. 

Practice does ensue. 

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

A present to you all for being MIA.

I pinky promise I'm working on the Peter series!

[goldkirk]

hey this isn’t aimed at anyone in particular but I’m saying it for the record here: if I tell you no, please stop messaging me about fundraisers and mutual aid.

I get enough messages that it’s impossible for me to keep up without devoting at least half an hour each day, when I’m not even on tumblr that long most days. Me having a boundary about this isn’t a moral failing, it’s a lifeboat for me on my own blog.

In my personal life I’m already advocating and donating literally as much as I can spare. This is not me not caring, it’s just me not willing to interact with that on the one place I go online to not interact with irl news and world events for the most part.

I cannot be upset all the time. I cannot be upset everywhere. I cannot use all my emotional and mental energy fielding my own upset from ongoing events. My options are to hold boundaries about this or stop coming online at all.

I’m all for sharing information and signal boosting to reasonable extents, but the scale of it this year is so large and so enduring that it is literally not possible to for me to participate on every account I have. I’ve previously shared links to Gaza eSIM donations and a major hub of verified Go Fund Mes here and elsewhere online. We, the online humans, know how to look those things up ourselves by now. There are many, many people choosing to do advocacy work, and right now, I can’t be one of them.

If you’re extremely upset when I tell you I can’t share/donate right now about a Gaza family or personal fundraiser you ask me to share here, just unfollow and block me. That’s what those buttons are for. Protect your own emotions and energy and get me off your feed instead of staying upset and continuing to engage with online people or content that upsets you.

Please don’t send repeated angry messages based on manufactured purity politics and moral outrage into my messages and inbox when I exercise the right to run my own blog.

[whaleiumsharkspeare]

Listening to the Wicked soundtrack (shocker) and I never cry at movies but y’all….I feel like seeing For Good on the big screen might be the one thing to finally break me

[darlingmarie3]

Y’all, I just watched Dead Poets Society and I was not mentally prepared for this. I don’t know why, but I was really hoping it was gay lovers in a private school type of shit… NOPE. Suffice to say, I loved the movie, but I was not prepared to be this broken from it 😭😭😭

[crazyw3irdo]

been asked if i’ll make a hamlet version of my uquiz and truly like i get why you’d want me to do that but why would i do that when rosencrantz & guildenstern are dead exists

[jankillbride]

.

[preserve-or-raze]

my tags got out of hand

i keep thinking about hobbies and how i often spill over myself to pick up new ones. i have adhd, i end up trying something for like a month and then just getting far enough in it that i move on, satisfied.

and that should be fine; but it's never fine.

i am a pretty decent artist; but i can't just make art for my dnd campaign, i should be selling dnd maps and character designs and scene setting pieces. i can't just make my friends matching earrings, i need to get an etsy and ship them internationally and take bulk orders. i make pretty good props and decorations and use them to throw my friends parties - but i should be running a party planning business and start taking paying clients and networking and putting my skills to actual use.

for some reason, i never figured out the specifics of pottery. it was a fun class and i enjoyed myself - and still, i'm embarrassed, years later, that i put in all that useless effort. everything i make has to be stunning. stellar. i should have applied myself more. maybe i'm too lazy. maybe i'm broken and selfish and needy. actually creative people would have kept going; they would be bettering themselves at every possible opportunity.

we find ourselves in this trap, even accidentally: we need to commodify our time, because it is a commodity. if we spend our efforts and our time not earning, isn't that the same thing as burning free money? and god forbid you ever take up a hobby that ends up being more expensive than you thought. you sit in your car and you look at the receipt and in your head you hear a conversation that isn't even happening - your mom or your friend or your partner all saying oh great. not this shit again. it's always something with you, and it never actually means anything.

i have realized this horrible thing, recently - i'll get excited to start a project, pick up a new hobby. and then i just... stop myself. i start thinking about the amount of time it will take, and how it'll look in my monthly budget. what if i can't even produce a good enough final product. sure, it's exciting to think about how i could make my friend her own custom dice. but i'm just polluting the earth if i don't get it right. better not bother. better not try.

restless, i get caught in the negative space. the feeling that oh god, i want to create. and that horrible sense - yeah, but i don't have the time to just put to waste.

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! Could you please write something for Spencer where r is used to men being like really loud and rough and all that (maybe bc of her father or smth) and just her getting used to how gentle Spencer is and almost thinking it’s too good to be true?

Thank you for requesting angel <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 905 words

It happens when you’re still half asleep. You fumble for your phone on Spencer’s nightstand, your alarm chiming, and knock a picture frame off instead. You’re fully awake by the time you hear the sound of glass shattering against the floor. 

You mumble a curse. Spencer hums questioningly into his pillow. 

You get down from the bed, managing to step over the glass, but you’re not thinking clearly enough. When you sink onto your knees, little shards prick the skin. You pick the frame up carefully. It’s a picture of Spencer and his mom. An old one, of her chasing a three or four-year-old Spencer around someone’s yard. They’re both laughing, her arms outstretched towards him and his face turning to look over his shoulder. It’s obviously a sentimental photo. 

Your cursing intensifies, though you keep it internal now. You feel awful. 

Spencer’s head appears over the edge of the bed as you’re scraping the glass into a pile. His eyes are half-open, expression still weighted with drowsiness. 

“What happened?” he asks. 

There’s no accusation in his tone, but you feel suddenly teary. You haven’t fought with Spencer yet, and you weren’t expecting to be yelled at first thing this morning. You suppose you’ve earned it, though. 

“Spence, I’m so sorry.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I—I knocked over your picture. The frame broke. I feel awful, I’ll get you a new one o—or I can replace the glass if the frame is important to you.” 

“What?” Spencer blinks, brows furrowed as though he’s having trouble grasping this. “No, it’s—stop. Don’t do that.” 

You still, looking up at him hesitantly with your hands cupped around the glass pile. “What do you want me to do?” 

“You can’t clean glass up with your hands.” He shuffles his way out from under the covers, taking a big step over the class to stand behind you. His hands wrap around your elbows. “Get away from there.” 

His tone conveys some upset, but not nearly as much as you were prepared for. And his grip on your arms is gentle. You can’t make sense of it. 

You let him guide you into the bathroom, sitting up on the counter when he prompts you. Spencer takes your hands in his, looking them over and brushing his fingers lightly across your palms before determining there’s no glass in them. His eyes skim you over. When they land on your knees, his expression pinches. 

“Why did you do this?” You expect him to grasp your knee roughly, but his fingers wrap around it with care, thumb rubbing over the soft underside as though to soothe you. 

“I wasn’t thinking,” you say softly. “I feel so bad about the picture with your mom, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Spencer sounds surprised. His eyes flit up to yours, soft brown, curious. “I can get a new frame. You didn’t need to hurt yourself.” 

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” Your voice drops to a murmur as Spencer bends down, opening a drawer to take out first aid supplies. 

He pulls each tiny piece of glass from your knees with heart-aching care. One hand stays on the back of whichever knee he’s working on, to steady him and to comfort you, and it’s a slow, attentive, tender process. Gradually, a realization seeps into you. 

Spencer isn’t going to blow up at you. Maybe someday, but not about this, not over just anything. You’re not sure how you could have been so expectant of someone who’s been nothing but kind and gentle with you turning harsh and forceful at the first upset. 

You don’t even wince as Spencer cleans up your knees. He’s careful to give you no reason to, every touch considerate and sweet. He straightens after smoothing bandages over the cuts, still holding your lower thighs in his hands. 

“That wasn’t a very nice way to wake up,” he says. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, but you hold your arms out for a hug anyway. 

Spencer’s happy to oblige you, his hips fitting between your legs and palms sliding across your back. He smells like sleep. You hook your chin over his shoulder, contentment filling your belly like warm honey. 

“You seemed upset,” he murmurs, a question if you choose to answer it. 

“I was nervous,” you admit. “I thought you’d be mad.” 

“For knocking the frame over?”

“Mhm. I still feel really bad.” 

Spencer draws a line between your shoulders. “Don’t feel bad. You didn’t do it on purpose.” 

You hum. “You’re a lot less loud than most guys, do you know that?” 

He pauses. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” You pull away from him, cradling his face in your hand. “I’m just not used to it, is all. I keep expecting you to yell at me, but that doesn’t seem like it’s really your thing.” 

“I guess I don’t think of it as my thing,” Spencer agrees, mouth curving as he repeats your words. “My mom says I was always a quiet kid. I guess I just never thought yelling would get me anywhere.” 

“Don’t start.” You grin, and his cheek dimples under your palm. “I like you like this.” 

“Okay, I’ll try not to.” He tilts his face into your touch. His hands drop back to your knees, skimming down the unharmed sides next to the bandages. “And you shouldn’t get angry at yourself on my behalf anymore, either.”

[euthymiya]

i adore you (can’t you see you’re meant for me?) — ft. sylus

sylus likes to sleep late in the mornings, and you like to admire him. the two are just a series of steps that bring you to where you are now: on top of him

— word count: 4.7k words — it’s literally all pure filth with no plot idk what to say atp

— before you read: female reader ; established relationship ; sleepy sylus ; banter and teasing ; reader rides his abs (do not look at me) ; praise kink (it goes both ways tbh) ; blow jobs ; cum eating ; reader has an obsession with his veins (it is her not me okay?) ; sylus wraps his hand around her throat (but no choking) ; body worship + one clit kiss ; nipple play ; morning sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; do not be fooled it is all pretty soft i promise

— comments: i am new to this game and i haven’t gotten too far go easy on me for this one :( i dedicate this to all my sylus loving nonnies in my inbox thanks for helping me figure out this game LOL. and kass. ily kass

Sylus sleeps more when the sun is out than when it’s not. You don’t mind it so much—not when the view is what it is.

(He’s pretty, and so is the sun. The two combined make for an even prettier picture. You think, if you weigh your options, there are certainly worse things out there than sitting beside your sleeping boyfriend and waiting for him to wake up.)

It’s hard to keep your hands to yourself, though. His hair is too tempting not to brush away from his face. And while your hand is right there, it’s a little impossible not to cup his cheek for a moment. And, well, if you’re already touching him, you might as well let your hand slide down to his chest and rub circles against the skin. He leans into your touch subconsciously anyway—it’s not hurting him. It’s helping.

(You like telling yourself plenty of things to justify your hand and his skin having an early morning rendezvous.)

“Bored, sweetie?” His voice is always deeper when laced with sleep than it usually tends to be. You stiffen, moving to pull your hand away, an apology already prepared on your lips for waking him when he catches your wrist, eyes still closed. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you huff, letting him guide your hand back to his bare chest. It rises and falls slowly, so warm and firm under your palm that it’s a little dizzying.

“Am I?” He cracks an eye open, “I was just enjoying a little tenderness. I wonder why I can’t ever seem to receive something so sweet when I’m awake.”

“Precisely this reason,” you say flatly. He raises a smug brow. Just to humor him, you add, “Your ego can’t handle it when you’re awake.”

“What, that you find me too irresistible not to touch?”

“Sylus, go back to sleep,” you grumble, shuffling away from him with a face that feels unbearably hot under his half-lidded gaze. “You’re easier to get along with that way.”

“I don’t know,” he all but purrs. In a swift motion—swift enough that you let out a shrill squeal—his hand tugs at your arm and pulls you close enough that he can hoist your body to sit on his lower belly. “We get along pretty well when we’re wide awake, don’t you think?”

His hand hikes up your (well, technically his) shirt and rests on your hip, nothing but the thin fabric of your panties separating you from him as you’re seated on top of him. You shiver lightly when his thumb caresses your hip bone, a satisfied hum pulling from his throat at the feeling of goosebumps rising against your skin. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, squirming over him—but you can’t say much else because you cut yourself off with a soft gasp when you hear the distinct sound of something tearing. 

Fabric. 

More specifically, your fabric. Your underwear—which was a rather nice pair too, you think woefully—is torn into two pieces, one held in Sylus’s hand like some form of victory, while the other falls against his belly with nothing holding it together around your hips. 

You blink. He gives you a large Cheshire grin.

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says, not so apologetically, “They were just in the way.”

“I liked those!” You hiss, glaring at him, “They were nice!”

“What, you don’t think I can buy you more? I could buy them faster than I could rip them, I’m sure.”

You have your doubts about that last part—but it’s still persuasive enough that you’re no longer as mad as you were just a moment ago. But you’re still petulant, pouting as you huff, “You ruin everything.”

“Mmh,” he hums, closing his eyes, voice still a low drawl from sleep as he says, “Are you sure? Because I can feel you dripping already, sweetheart.”

Shame floods your system quickly, but lust is faster. Stronger, too, perhaps—because you don’t have it in you to be ashamed for too long before you grow impatient. With a deeper pout, you press your hands against his chest, leaning lower until your mouth hovers over his. 

“Can you blame me?” You breathe against his lips. “Just look at you.”

He stiffens. Just barely, of course. Just enough that you can hardly even detect it, but you do. You do because you know him. And you know that when Sylus teases, it’s really just to deflect from his need to shift the attention to yours—like he doesn’t want you just as bad. Like he’s not just as hard as you are wet in his boxers. Like he doesn’t need to feel you just as badly as you need to feel him. 

But he likes to keep the upper hand. It starts with two hands on your hips, firmly squeezing them before slowly rocking them against his abs. Your bare cunt (courtesy of him destroying a perfectly good pair of panties) glides along the ridges and indents of his muscle. Very well-defined ridges and indents of muscle, too. You tense, letting out a shaky gasp as your clit rubs against his hard-planed physique. 

“If you like it so much, why stop at just a look?” He chuckles, “You’re more than welcome to feel, too, sweetheart.”

He’s so sickeningly proud of himself, you can’t help but think bitterly as soon as your hips start grinding against him of their own accord. He’s so pleased and amused and deeply content with the sight of you falling apart over him. His eyes are hungry, and they don’t stray away from you for a single second. They don’t miss a single twist in your expression, nor do they have the decency not to stare shamelessly at the image of where your pussy meets his midsection, where your slick pools and coats his skin and makes it glisten as you make a mess on him. 

He hums, large hands leaving your waist buried in their frames as they guide you at a slow, steady pace. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grins—and oh, he’s aggravatingly happy as he laughs breathlessly, “You look like you’re about to fall apart. Don’t worry, I’m right here. You can’t fall far.”

You would say something smart if you could. Maybe even reach back and palm over his crotch that’s rudely tight against his boxers. But you can’t. Not when your clit rubs against his warm, heated skin and leaves jolts along your spine. All you can manage is a pathetic, “S-Sylus, please—”

“Oh? Please what? Please more?” He coos.

Something of a dull ache builds into this deep, throbbing need to feel your walls hug around something. To constrict around and latch onto something warm and big and full—something like him. Something like the way he fucks you into the mattress and makes you feel like he’s so deep in you, you can feel him in your throat. 

That’s what you want—but of course, you’re naive if you think that’s what he’ll give. For now, at least. For now, he’ll tease, and tease, and tease until he can watch you crumble just the way he wants to witness. And you’re close to that, too—you know it, and so does he. He can tell by the way your wetness drips onto him in a messy pool, making your cunt drag against him easier, smoother. He can tell because he can all but feel the quiver of your walls clenching around nothing, empty and desperate for some sort of building friction. And he can especially tell because of your face—that devastating look on your face when you’re so close to the edge you can just practically cling to it with the tips of your fingers as it dangles teasingly in front of you. 

“More,” you plead, “Want you. Want to feel you.”

“Oh, but you’re almost there,” he says in faux sympathy, soothing you with a sleepy, smug little grin. “Surely, you can take it just like this, can’t you? You’re better than that—I know you are.”

His words take you to the edge. You plummet off of it, in fact, practically collapsing against his chest as he holds you upright with a firm, strong grip and guides you through your orgasm. You gush around nothing, making a wet, sticky mess on his skin as you cum against him, grinding your clit as much as you can along every indent along his hard, built muscle. 

“Sylus,” you whimper, “oh—f-fuck.” Your body quivers for a few more moments before you slump against him, burying your nose into his neck. “You’re despicable,” you bite the skin lightly.

He laughs. It’s low from the sleep that’s still clinging to his voice but boyish enough that your heart skips a beat. “Am I? You seemed to enjoy it.”

You shuffle to curl into him more, but your leg brushes against the bulge in his underwear—a small, barely-there sound pulls from his throat. Something caught between a gasp and a moan that makes you pause before you grin against the crook of his neck.

“Guess I should pay you back, hm?” 

He watches, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded as you pull away and kiss from his collarbone to his pecs. A rise of goosebumps litters his skin, too—just like they did on your skin earlier. You silently revel in that victory, making your way lower, lower, lower. But it’s painfully, obnoxiously, ridiculously slow. 

“Don’t be a tease, sweetie,” he hisses, grunting as you kiss down his torso, the well-defined muscle of his abs flexing under every touch of your lips. 

“Who, me?” You blink, batting your lashes sweetly, “Oh, I’d never, baby.”

Your lips graze over the skin that’s still marked with your essence as you kiss and suck along his torso, a trail of marks left in your wake and declaring him yours. You can taste yourself from just a few moments ago—the moments when you rocked your hips into him and fell apart, when he held you through it with a sleepy smirk. The image of his smug face makes you glance up at him with a flustered look, and almost as if he already knows, his gaze is on you. Waiting. Smug here in person just as much as he was in your memories.

“What a naughty thing,” he drawls, teasing glint in his eyes. “Did you get a taste of yourself? I’m sure now you have an idea of why I find it so…addictive, don’t you?”

He’s filthy. Cocky, too. And more often than not, he’s absurdly prepared with smart comments. Just to even the playing field a little, you decide he could use a little relentless teasing of his own. 

“Oh, I can think of a thing or two just as addictive,” you smile innocently—and just like that, you lean in to kiss against a pale, blue line across his porcelain skin, pulling away to admire the veins that mark his body. Something in you aches for him all over again—something that you don’t like to admit happens from just the sight of something like his veins. But you pay careful attention to them anyway, leaning down and pressing soft, feather-like kisses against his lower belly, feeling him stiffen tightly underneath you as his breath gets labored and slightly erratic.

He’s impatient. You glance down at him, cock hard and strained against his boxers, the beginnings of a wet patch dampening the skin from pre cum dribbling from his tip. You almost feel bad. 

Almost. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of your games?” He grits, involuntarily twitching his hips to chase some friction. 

“I could ask you the same question,” you snort. 

“Yet, it seems I’m always the one spoiling you,” he retorts. 

There’s some bit of merit to that, you suppose. So you give in, humming as you kiss along his v-line, one finger looping under his waistband while giving a small tug downwards. He lifts his hips instantly, letting you pull off the offensive piece of clothing that separates him from your touch. 

It’s flushed, his cock. Swollen, flushed with a pretty rosy shade at the tip, and glistening with leaking pre cum. You lean and give the thick vein along the underside a series of kisses tracing upwards before pressing a delicate one to his tip. He groans, and his cock twitches at the contact, his eyes fluttering closed as he bites his lip. 

“Pretty,” you observe, smiling softly at the sight of him. 

He scoffs, lips almost a pout as they curl into a frown. “Then do something about it,” he insists. 

You think you’ve sufficiently teased him enough, so you do—you take him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, as your tongue and the wet heat of your mouth envelop him and make him tense for a moment before his body goes slack. A deep, throaty groan rings through the room, the sound making something do a flip in your lower belly. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, breathing heavily. “You…you’re so good at this.”

The praise does something to you that you’re not proud of. Some flash of an ache deep in your core that you don’t want to focus on, so you pay closer attention to him instead. Your tongue swirls over his tip as your head bobs up, tracing down that pretty vein of his as you take him down your throat once more. What you can’t fit in your mouth—because there is enough of him that you can’t fit in your mouth—you pump with your fist, wrapped around the base of his shaft. 

Sylus has a lot of veins. You admire them long enough to know them all by heart. The ones along his hands that you love to trace when you hold them in yours. The ones along his arm that you love to eye when he’s working out. The ones along his abdomen that you trace every once in a while with the tip of your finger when you have him to yourself in private. And the long, pretty one along this inner thigh—the one you see only when you’re like this: between his spread-out legs with your mouth around his cock. 

Your free hand moves to lay over this thigh, gently rubbing into the skin as if to anchor him as he throws his head back and groans. Your eyes are trained on him, staring up at the twists of pleasure in his expression and the crinkles in his eyes as he closes them tightly and moans. But you don’t have to look at your hand to know your thumb is tracing along that vein. You know it better than you know yourself, you think—his body is so easy to memorize. So easy to get to know and keep ingrained in your brain forever. 

His thigh flexes under your touch, and you hum around him, the vibrations around his length making his breath hitch as he curses under his breath. 

You pull away with nothing but a string of saliva connecting you to him, his eyes glancing down at you sharply for the interruption. But you smile, equal parts soft and equal parts smug. Gently, you press a wet kiss to his thigh, right over the same pale blue line you traced just moments ago, as you murmur, “You’re so pretty. You know that?”

“I’m flattered,” he says tightly, warily staring down at you with hungry, desperate eyes. “I’m sure you can save the flattery for later, though, can’t you?”

“But what if you think I’m just using you for your body?” You gasp dramatically, “Can’t have that, you know. I have to appreciate you more.”

���Teasing can easily be reciprocated, you know, sweetheart,” he grits, “Or have you forgotten that so quickly?”

“Oh, I’m aware. I’ll take my chances.” Your lips trail up his thigh until it reaches the base of his cock. You press another kiss against it, murmuring a quiet, “I love you.”

His cock twitches—it’s like it responds to every soft word of affection and every littlest bit of praise. For all the denying and for all the impatience, too, Sylus loves the attention. Thrives under it, even—it does something to his ego that you know you probably shouldn’t help stroke, but you can’t help it. 

You press one more kiss to his swollen tip before murmuring, “Mine,” and then you take him down your throat once more—faster this time. Your head bobs up and down his length, lips wrapped around him as you swallow every now and then. 

His hand flies to his hair, tugging at the soft, silvery strands as he groans deeply, hips pushing up to meet your pace and thrust deeper into your mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he hisses, “Just like that, sweetheart—shit.”

He spills down your throat not too long after. Warm, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth with every twitch of his cock, filling you enough that some spills from the corner of your mouth, dripping along your face and collecting at your chin. You swallow what you can, working him through his orgasm, listening to the sweet, lust-hazed sounds he makes as pleasure burns through every nerve of his body. 

He slumps back when he’s finished, panting with an arm over his eyes while you wipe your chin and swallow before climbing up his body and slumping on top of him. He wraps an arm around your waist instantly, humming lowly as his large, warm hand rubs into your lower back. 

“Had your fun?” He raises a brow. 

You grin cheekily, kissing his jaw as you murmur, “I think you had more fun than me, but what do I know?”

He chuckles. It’s low, and the sound vibrates through his chest so that you can feel it under you. There’s a small bead of sweat along his temple, and his face is flushed a soft shade of scarlet that you admire—it brings out the deep crimson of his eyes even more from here. 

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper. 

“How many times will you remind me of that?” He asks, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting your face up, and inspecting you carefully. “You’re making me feel bad. I haven’t reminded you how stunning you are nearly enough times.”

“You could always start now,” you wink, “It’s never too late.” He laughs again. Deep, genuine, soft. Sylus is a lot of things. You think your favorite is in love. 

“Do I really have to remind you?” He whispers, voice husky as he slowly shifts your body to lay under his, flipping you over as he hovers over you. “You don’t already know how beautiful you are—how you drive me insane?”

“A reminder wouldn’t hurt,” you blink innocently. “What if you’re secretly getting tired of me?”

His eyes flash with something dangerous at that. You only meant it as a joke, of course—he loves deeply. So deeply, you don’t think you’d escape him even if you wanted to. (Not that you do, of course. You’re quite happy knowing your place is beside him.) You know he’s never tired of you—quite the opposite, in fact. 

But you like teasing him. Getting under his skin enough that his hand moves to your throat and wraps around it firmly—not quite tight enough to block your air flow, but enough to serve as a light warning. 

“You think I would get tired of you?” He challenges. Offended. In disbelief. “Tired of this?”

Just like that, the familiar sound of fabric tearing rings through your ears again. It’s a sound you seem to be getting more and more used to the longer you date Sylus. And yet, every time, it pulls the same sound of disbelief from your throat as you gasp at his audacity. But before you can speak, before you can scold him for ripping your (his) favorite shirt straight off of your body, his hands curve around your tits, molding against them perfectly as if they were made to cup them. His thumbs roll over your nipples, humming in approval as you whine softly at the feeling. 

“Sylus,” you pant. (Regretfully, you think that’s the only collection of syllables you can manage anymore on this fine morning.) “W-wait—”

“Wait?” He pretends to gasp in shock, “But we’re just getting started. I was just about to show you all my favorite parts of you—they never get old. Would you like to see?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he leans down, latching his lips around one pebbled nipple, sucking and nipping lightly at it as his thumb rolls over and pinches the other one. Your back arches into his touch, a soft moan spilling from your lips as he grins against your chest. 

“Here’s a favorite, for starters,” he murmurs. “And here—” he kisses along your belly and makes his way to your hip bone, biting lightly at the flesh and making your breath hitch, “—this is certainly a memorable place too, isn’t it? Can’t keep my hands off of it.”

Finally, his hands slowly pull your legs apart, exposing the wet, dripping mess that is your cunt, folds puffy and waiting for him. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your clit, smiling at the small whimper you let out from the sensitive touch before he says through a low, breathy whisper, “This, however…this has to be my favorite part of all.”

“Okay,” you whine, pulling at his arms with a plea, “I get it, okay? I need it, please.”

“Well then,” he huffs out a soft laugh, “Who am I to deny?”

He’s level with you before you can blink—mouth on yours with a heavy, heated kiss that sends your brain into a fogged state as you kiss back. All you can register is soft flesh, pressure against your mouth, the taste of his tongue on yours, and hot and heavy breath seeping into your lungs while he inhales yours. It’s slow, the way he kisses you—but still undeniably needy. He chases after your mouth as soon as you pull away to breathe, a soft gasp pushing past his throat at the loss of contact. As if it might kill him. As if he might die without your breath down his throat, keeping him alive. 

“Do you want it, sweetheart?” He breathes erratically, “Because I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“I want it,” you practically beg, “I want you.”

He’s hard again—stiff between his legs and throbbing at your words enough that his cock does a little jerk on its own, like it’s responding to you itself. He drags it along your entrance, rolling slow circles against your folds and coating his tip in your slick, earning a sharp inhale from you as he groans at the teasing friction against the head of his cock.

“I always want you,” he breathes. 

He pushes past your folds as he speaks the words against your mouth, letting you swallow up the low moan he lets out as your walls wrap around him little by little. It’s painstakingly slow. Inch after inch after inch until the blunt head of his length presses deep into you, nudging against a soft, sensitive spot in your walls that makes your whole body react with a quiver. He curves into you perfectly, thick and deep and so, so full. 

“Ready?” He smiles tenderly, gripping the fat of your thighs and hooking them around his waist, leaning to kiss one of your knees as you melt into the mattress and nod. 

“Please,” you whine, “Need it—need you.”

There’s a sharp thrust of his hips at that—he pulls out until he’s almost completely left your warm cunt before slamming back in past your folds, pressing mercilessly against your sensitive spot. It’s partly because he has your body memorized but mainly because his body is practically made to mold into you. It’s like he fits you perfectly, curves into the shape of your body like the shape of his was hand-made to pair with yours. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you see past his exterior the most. When his eyes hold the most emotion, staring at you like he can’t believe you’re his. When his hands shake for once because he doesn’t know if he deserves the weight of you in his hold. When his breath is the most labored and uncontrolled because you steal every breath from his lungs, and selflessly, he gives up air for you. When sweat coats his skin and makes his hair cling to his forehead because when he loves you is when his body is most responsive, most affected. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you love yourself most. Because how could you not when he pays such close attention to you? Thumb finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles just the way he knows drives you crazy, watching your face closely for every reaction? How could you not when close is not nearly close enough, when he presses his chest against yours and buries his face into your neck to all but melt under your skin? It makes you feel desirable. Beautiful. Lovable. 

So easy to want.

So easy to lose control to.

So easy to need. 

“You feel that, don’t you?” He mumbles, panting harshly as he grunts when you squeeze around him at the sound of his labored voice. “Feel me? How badly I need you? How crazy you drive me? Feel how hard I am for you? Don’t tell me you think I’d ever get tired of that.”

“I know,” you whine, “I know, I know, baby—I promise.”

You let out a small squeal when he angles your leg higher, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pressing harshly where you need him most with his tip in a dizzyingly punishing pace and a harshly rough deepness that makes your vision blur. Almost go blank, even.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands.

“I love you!”

“Tell me you need me,” he adds, so selfish and needy for your approval. To know you’re nothing without him like he’s nothing without you. 

“N-need…fuck, I need you,” you stumble over your words as your orgasm comes closer and closer, creeping up on you enough that you can’t catch your breath fast enough to keep up with him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” This time, it comes out as almost a plea.

“Yours,” you sob, body on the precipice of breaking all over again, “Yours, yours, yours.”

You cum as soon as you say it. Harder than maybe ever—it’s like being reminded that you’re his makes your body react tenfold. You fall apart with a shrill cry of his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss as your nails press indents into his skin. 

He groans in pleasure at the slight pain, melting against your lips, an open-mouthed, wet kiss working him up to his own orgasm. His first one was a slow build-up—but this one happens quickly, coming out of nowhere and hitting him full force, his hips stuttering for a moment and losing rhythm as he sloppily thrusts into you. 

Yours. Yours. Yours. 

Your voice rings in his ears, aiding him through his pleasure as he fucks his thick, sticky release deep into your folds, sharp thrusts that match the harsh twitching of his cock. 

“Ngh,” he grunts, “Sh-shit, sweetheart.”

Finally, when you’re both done, breaths frenzied and harsh as you try to make up for the lost air in your lungs, he slumps over your body and hides his face into the crook of your neck, practically purring as your shaky hand buries into his sweaty locks and strokes the soft, silvery strands. 

It’s quiet, just the sound of your breathing eventually shifting from heavy to slowed as you finally catch it, the quivering of your body dissipating, too. Your fingers journey their way from his scalp to the back of his neck, lightly making a feather-soft trail along his bare back as he shivers from the touch.

“Don’t fall asleep after I showed you a good time,” you pout, “It’s rude.”

“You were the one that woke me for a good time,” he mumbles, amused. “That’s equally as rude.”

“I did not,” you huff, “You were the one who escalated it. I just wanted a peaceful morning.”

“I don’t know,” he grins against your skin, pressing a chaste, warm peck where it's closest to his lips, “I’m feeling pretty at peace, wouldn’t you agree?”

so uh..........basically i got the card where u measured him for clothes and i saw a vein in his abs and lost my mind. so. here is the product of that. i REFUSE to be told this is not a completely totally normal reaction. thank you!

[simjaexy]

𝙄 𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙈𝙮 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 | 𝙎.𝙅.

Pairing — Virgin! Sim Jaeyun x Experienced! (F) Reader

Synopsis — Sim Jaeyun had a normal life. He was just a regular guy that worked in a small cafe and made coffee for customers. What he didn’t think was normal though, was that he was a virgin at the age of 22. Embarrassing enough, he never jerked off. Ever. Why you ask? Well, because he didn’t know how to. He watched porn videos from time to time, but never acted upon himself to jerk off. So what happens when he sees you enter the cafe for the first time and is in struck? Will he act upon to ask you out? Or will he scurry away like a puppy because he’s a virgin?

Genre — Crack, Smut, Angst

Warnings — MINORS DNI!!!, Jay and Sunghoon are Jake’s BFFS (saying this as a warning bc they are chaotic asf), Cursing, Reader is big money rich, Arguments, Name calling (Idiot and etc.), Switch! Jake (mostly sub), Jake is a somewhat pervert & awkward mess, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Loss of virginity, Making out, Jake has a big dick, Jake is bad at sex (but it’s ok bc reader helps him <3), Receiving (m&f), Sex (Unprotected, Sloppy, Rough, Cloth), Jerking off, Cum swallowing, Humiliation, Grinding, Eating out, Jake is a pussy drunk, Multiple orgasms, Crying, Hickeys, lmk if i miss anymore!

Wc — 10.7k

A/n — I spell experiment & experience wrong so bear with me. Anyways, happy to say I’m back to making fics! U could kind of tell I gave up on some parts so sorry abt that :/ I also wanted to make it longer BUT oh well (might be a part 2 but who knows)! I hope u guys like this one <3 It was kind of shitty since I had no idea what I was going for but it was worth a shot. If u would like to be on the perm taglist click here! Like, Reblog, Comment, etc.! Not proofread!

masterlist here

“How do people like extra bitter coffee?”

Sunghoon questioned with a cup of bitter coffee in his hand, holding it close to his face to examine it. Jake, on the other hand, was wiping down the dirty counter. The morning was in full business, and the only thing heard in the cafe was the chatter of customers and the espresso machine. Jake chuckled at Sunghoons comment. He always judged what people ordered and the funny thing is, Sunghoon didn’t like coffee at all. He only applied to work at a cafe was because Jake didn’t wanna be alone. What also came as a moment was when Jay also offered to work too.

He glanced at the next order slip and began preparing a caramel macchiato, his hands moving with ease. They haven’t been working here for a long time, just a few months. They get paid pretty well so Jake really didn’t have nothing to complain about other than the shitty customers that would come around to argue with them. Sunghoon would usually escort them out because Jay would pick a fight. Jake finished the coffee and went up to the front, "Caramel macchiato for Sarah!" Jake called out, placing the drink on the counter. A young woman stepped forward with a grateful smile, taking the coffee from his hands and offering a shy ‘Thank you’. Jake returned the smile before turning back to the next order.

As he made the next coffee, Sunghoon leaned against the counter, letting out a long sigh, "I'm tired already, and it's only been four hours," Sunghoon muttered, rubbing his eyes. Jake watched Sunghoon, noticing the growing eyebags, but didn’t notice them until now in the bright lights. Sunghoons been working overtime lately due to his girlfriend and him recently having a fight. It wasn’t the first one they had, but clearly this was one of the worst ones. That’s what Jake also didn’t like. Fights in relationships.

Jake chuckled softly although he knew Sunghoon was having trouble. The only thing you can do is just comfort, "Don't worry about it. We're almost done. Just a little longer."

Sunghoon groaned, looking at the clock on the wall. The time is ticking slow and dreadful, "I hope so. I can't wait to go home and sleep.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head as he poured steamed milk into a cup, "You'll make it. Just think about that comfy bed waiting for you."

Sunghoon frowned, pushing himself off the counter. "Yeah, that sounds good right about now." He spoke sarcastically.

The two continued their work despite the exhaustion they were both feeling. It was a bit more bearable with having a coworker like Sunghoon by his side. They would joke around about anything together, along with Jay. Speak of the devil, the door to the back room swung open, and there behold Jay with a wide grin on his face.

"Fucking finally!" Jay said, his excitement palpable. "I've been texting back and forth with this girl all morning. She's planning something special for tonight. I bet I’m gonna get laid.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, "This is like, what? The fifth girl you’ve talked too?Some of us are just trying to survive the day here. And what do you mean all morning? Have you’ve been doing your job?” Sunghoon ranted.

Jay raised his hands up, “It’s not my fault I haven’t had sex in a while. Besides, the last girl I had sex with didn’t want me wearing a condom! I ran out of there before she could say anything else.” He replied.

Sunghoon said something back, but Jake stayed quiet, zoning out. This is when he often felt out of place. He admired Jay's conversation about girls and sex, but couldn't quite relate to it. Sure he had a fair share of doing little dates with some chicks, but each time it always ended up with one of them saying they wanna have sex, which Jake didn’t want at the moment. They would then get mad and upset but can you really blame him?

Jay, oblivious to Sunghoon's irritation, continued, "Seriously, you guys should find someone to fuck. It makes everything so much better. Like, even this job feels less tiring when I know I have something to look forward to later at night."

Sunghoon sighed, shaking his head, "Yeah, yeah, Jay. We get it. You're a horny man. Now, can we please focus on getting through this shift?"

Jay rolled his eyes and scoffed, grabbing an apron, tying it around his waist, "Alright, alright. But seriously, you guys should think about it."

The three of them resumed making coffee and taking orders from customers. Despite the differences in their personalities, Jake thought they worked well together, each bringing something unique to the team. As the last customer left the cafe, the three of them let out a drawn sigh in unison.

Sunghoon stretched his back and let out a noise in satisfaction, “Finally, we can go home.” He hummed. Jake agreed, taking off the apron and hanging it on the hanger.

Jay did the same, “Well I’ll see you guys on Monday then. Boutta get some head.” He said. Sunghoon groaned in disgust.

Jay left while Jake and Sunghoon tidied up the place for the next workers tomorrow. After they finished they stepped out of the cafe with Sunghoon locking the door. The sun was already slowly setting, they should be getting paid for working overtime at this hour. Not many of the employees do.

“I’ll see you Monday?” Sunghoon asked. Jake nodded and smiled. They bid each other goodbye and headed in different directions.

Jake walked along the familiar path from the cafe to his apartment, the weight of the day bearing down on his shoulders. He wished he had a girl to go home too like Sunghoon. He could just imagine seeing her laying on the couch or watching TV in the living room. The closer he got to his apartment, the more the loneliness seeped into his bones. He really did wish for someone, anyone, to be there, but there was no one. Just him and the four walls that enclosed his existence. Finally, he reached his building. He took out his keys as he came face to face with his door and opened it with a click. He entered his apartment, closing the door behind him with a sigh. The silence not making anything better.

He took off his shoes, setting them on a rack near his door and headed straight to his bedroom. Changing into more comfortable clothing, he felt a slight sense of relief, though it did little to lift the heavy feeling in his chest. Deciding to stay distracted, he made his way to his laptop at his desk. He grabbed it and sat comfortably in his bed. He opened his laptop and went on Google, searching pornhub.com. There popped up different websites of porn, and yet none seemed to take his interest. He scrolled through all of them and decided to click on a random one.

Different videos of men and women having sex popped up. He scanned through the tags — missionary, pretzel, doggy style, milfs, young teen, it could go on. He clicked on one that seemed interesting.

Young teen girl getting pussy pounded by Dilf Dad- Very Hot!

Jake watches as the girl was sitting comfortably on a pink bedsheet. Collages of drawings in the background on the white wall. She was wearing a little skirt that showed her whole silk panties. Her hair was in a slick back bun. To Jake, she looked like an innocent girl. Then a man comes into view and faces the girl as she looks up. Jake couldn’t see everything, but he could see the Dad rubbing on the girl's cheek smoothly. She dipped her head closer to his palm, almost as if she was savoring it. Jake didn’t know what else happened before it cut to a scene where the girl was a moaning mess as the Dad fucks her roughly. He pulled her hair making her back arch like a bow. She let out sinful moans and pants leaving Jake wide eyed and wanting to hear more.

He hissed when he felt his computer rub along his now hard cloth dick. He lifted it up and saw his strained sweatpants. He groaned and set his laptop on the side of him and rubbed his dick awkwardly. Fuck, he really doesn’t know what to do. He let in a pitiful whine when he gripped and squeezed it. Just as he was gonna take his dick out of his sweatpants, his phone started ringing with a vibrating sound. He jumped. Who could be calling at this hour? With a sigh, he reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his phone. The screen illuminated the room just enough for him to see the caller ID. It was his boss. Jake's heart sank. He had a bad feeling about this call.

"Hello?" He answered, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Jake, it's me," His boss's voice came through the line, sounding business-like as ever, “Would it be alright if you come into work tomorrow?"

Jake mentally groaned. He had been looking forward to his day off, to catch up on sleep and maybe even relax a little. But he knew he couldn't say no to him, besides, maybe he could get more pay, "Sure, I can do that," He replied, trying to sound more professional than he felt. He hated how good he did.

"Good," His boss said, a hint of relief in his voice, "I'll pay you extra for the trouble. See you in the morning." And with that, the line went dead.

Jake stared at his phone for a moment, feeling frustrated and dry. He tossed the phone back onto the nightstand and let out a long sigh. His day off had just been snatched away, and the prospect of another grueling day at work now loomed in his mind. He was getting extra pay, so it wasn’t that bad. He looked over at his laptop and noticed the video was over. He scoffed and slammed it shut. He turned over in bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, and closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly and give him a brief respite from being interrupted from his sexual time.

Jake's alarm blared at 6 AM, jarring him from a restless sleep. He groggily reached over to silence it, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He remembered the late-night call from his boss, and the reality of another workday settled over him like his heavy blanket. He dragged himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He turned the nob as hot water poured out. Taking off his clothes- he entered and groaned feeling his muscle ache. After he finished, he dressed in a comfy outfit. He glanced at the clock and saw the time. With a sigh, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

When Jake arrived at work, he walked through the front counter, nodding at a few of his coworkers as he passed. He wasn’t used to not having Jay and Sunghoon by his side. That’s when he is usually somewhat quiet, but still talks enough for people to know who he is.

"Morning, Jake," One of them called out. He responded with a polite nod and a "Good morning" before continuing on his way.

As he approached his workstation, he saw Seulri, a coworker who had always been talkative towards him, "Hi, Jake!" She said brightly, her eyes lighting up as she saw him.

"Hey, Seulri," Jake replied, forcing a smile. He liked Seulri, she was a girl that he felt like he could talk to anything about. But he knew she had a crush on him, and he just didn't feel the same way.

"I was wondering what you were doing today after work?" She asked, her tone hopeful.

Jake hesitated, searching for an excuse. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he also didn't want to lead her on, “Uh, I've got a lot on my plate today," He said, trying to sound convincing, "I gotta close the shop for the night." It wasn’t whole lie. He did have to close the cafe around night.

Seulri's face fell slightly, but she quickly masked her disappointment with a smile. "Oh, okay. Well, if you need any help, just let me know."

"Thanks, Seulri. I appreciate it," Jake said, feeling a pang of guilt. He watched as she walked away, her shoulders slumped just a bit.

With a heavy guilt, Jake turned to work on a order. He knew he could’ve had a chance to finally get into a relationship, but he wanted someone to know him for him. Not just some person that wants to satisfy him like Seulri. Jay and Sunghoon kept telling him to just fuck it and have sex with her for the hell of it, but clearly they don’t understand what Jake’s wants. What he needs. Jake mentally cursed at himself and focused back on working. He wasn’t gonna think about, at least not for today.

It was around midnight when Jake was wiping down the tables and stacking the chairs. He liked these types of nights where he could just feel the need to relax with nothing on his mind. He was the only one left for the night, his coworkers having left hours ago. With a sigh, he sat down on an open chair behind the front counter. Deciding to take a break, he opened his phone and checked through his messages. He took sight of the group chat he had with Jay and Sunghoon called ‘The 02zzzz’ and opened it.

Sunghoon: [Link]

Sunghoon: You guys gotta check this out.

Jay: Wow, that’s hot.

Sunghoon: Ikr

Jake eyebrows furrowed before clicking the link. The link took him to safari and there popped up a video. Jake could already tell it was a porn video just from the looks of it. He clicked play and almost immediately it showed a girl sucking a guys dick hungrily. Jay was definitely not wrong, it was fucking hot. How the hell does Sunghoon find these videos? Jake liked the message and shut his phone off. Just then the bell let out a ‘ding’ upon someone coming in. Jake mentally groaned and got up from the sturdy chair, pushing it to the side. He rolled his sleeves as he stared up and that’s when he felt the air get knocked out his lungs. There standing in front of him was a beautiful girl that looked about in her 20’s. Jake felt his mouth going dry from staring. She was beautiful.. and hot. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and gave Jake a sweet smile. Yeah, he was done for.

“Hi! I hope your not closing soon,” She spoke, her voice sound as pretty as her face, “I just wanted a black coffee if that’s fine.”

Jake blinked once, twice before nodding slow. He shook his head. Get your ass together! He already felt like he was embarrassing himself enough by just staring at her. Wait, was his eyes averting to her tits?

“Oh! Yeah sure no problem, that’ll be $3.75.” He replied. The girl sighed in relief and pulled out her wallet, Jake wondered if she had been going all around town looking for an open coffee shop. Then again, he wasn’t particularly open either.

She extended her hand out with money which Jake took, he felt himself shiver when he felt her soft hands touch his. They were soft and smooth, almost as if she putted lotion before coming in here. Jake opened the cashier register and gave back a few change, “It’ll be done shortly.” He smiled. She nodded and went to take a seat not far from him.

He started measuring out the perfect amount of water, tamping it down with just the right amount of pressure, and locking the portafilter into the machine. As the hot water began to flow through the grounds, he glanced up back at the girl. She was rummaging through her bag, pulling out a laptop, a stack of papers, and a planner. Was she staying for a long time? Jake averted his eyes to the time. It wasn’t that late, but he is gonna be closing soon. He turned back towards her and as he watched her work, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, a sign of sleepless nights and long hours. It reminded him of Sunghoons. Her outfit was sharp and professional, a tailored blazer over a crisp blouse, paired with sleek trousers. As he steamed the milk, he felt his phone vibrate from his back pocket. Must be Jay and Sunghoon. He grabbed his phone and checked curiously.

Jay: Fuck guys, I just had the best sex ever

Sunghoon: Tf? We don’t wanna know that

Sunghoon: … Was it good?

Jay: The fucking best, she was definitely experienced

Sunghoon: Damn, now I wanna fuck my girl

Jay: No one stopping you

Sunghoon: Yeah, she is. Still mad at me.

Jay: Must suck

Sunghoon: Everyday

Jake putted his phone away when he the machine stopped indicating it was done. He took the coffee out and poured it into a cup. He put a plastic top over it before setting it down on the counter. The girl noticed and got up to grab it. Maybe this could be the chance to talk to someone, “Rough day?" Jake asked.

The girl stared up at him surprised before chuckling softly. Jesus, even her laugh was pretty, “You could say that.”

Jake hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are you perhaps a businesswoman?"

She nodded, taking a sip of the coffee. She let out a relaxed hum. Jake felt himself smiling before she stared at him, “Yes, I am. How did you guess?"

Jake shrugged, trying to play it cool. He wondered if he’s doing a good job at it, "Just a hunch. You look like someone who works hard and could use a good cup of coffee."

She laughed softly, it sounded like music to his ears, “You have no idea. This is exactly what I needed. Thank you."

As she went back to her seat with her unfinished work, Jake couldn’t help but feel his heart swell. They barely spoke and yet Jake already felt a connection. Is this what love at first sight feels like? Cause if it is then sign him the fuck up. He wants to feel that all the time. He watched her eyebrows furrow while looking at a few papers before flipping to the next ones. Maybe if he actually had some balls he could distract her and make her feel better about whatever she was stressing about. But what if she doesn’t want to be distracted?

Jake mentally groaned at himself, he really is bad at this. He mind as well just tell her he’s closing since it’s already been a few minutes. As he was lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice a little someone coming up to the counter, “Excuse me,” Her voice said. Jake whipped his head up and mustered up a nice smile. Shit, did she catch him thinking? She took out her wallet and pulled out around $20. Jake frowned and stared up at her.

“For letting me stay here even though you’re closing.” She spoke, “I noticed when I walked in you guys were supposed to close about five minutes ago.”

Jake nodded and stared back down at the money. Damn it was a lot. And with the extra pay coming to his check? He could go out drinking with the guys, but then again she didn’t need to give him money, “It’s no worries. Keep it.” He smiled.

She frowned, “Well now you’re making me feel bad. You’re working overtime because of me.”

“I was working overtime either way. I’m a slow cleaner.” Jake responded. He wasn’t really lying. She slowly nodded and put her money back in her wallet. Louis Vuitton wallet. Oh, she’s rich rich.

“Well, is there anything I can pay you back aside from money then?” She spoke. Her voice laced with concern. Jake gulped. This was his chance to hit it with a ‘a date would be nice’, but clearly she doesn’t look interested in him, right? Jake felt his heart pacing with each thought. Fuck it.

“M-Maybe a date.” He blurted out. Fucking. Stupid. Voice. Did he really just stutter? The girl blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by the sudden sentence. Yeah, Jake was definitely gonna dig himself in a hole. He was gonna take back what he said until a little giggle was heard from the girl.

“I didn’t expect that, but sure. Why not?” She chimed. Jake felt himself freeze in place. She said yes. She said yes? She said yes! Jake felt like punching the air in victory but kept his composure.

“Really? Wow- I mean- That’s cool. Cool.” He replied. She laughed making Jake feel even more embarrassed. Has he always been this awkward? He wouldn’t be surprised if she changed her mind.

“ Well if we’re going on a date, you have to give me your number first." She said. Her smile never dropping. Jake's eyes widened in surprise. Right. How could he forget? He fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking slightly. He awkwardly handed it to you, unable to find his voice. You took it, entered your number, and handed it back.

"Text me," She said softly, "and we'll set something up."

"Okay," he managed to say, his voice filled with a mix of relief and excitement.

She went back to the table and gathered her stuff and walked out of the café. As she glanced back, Jake couldn’t help but feel his heart pang out of his chest. He can’t believe he picked up a beautiful girl all because he had the balls to do it. She gave him a wink, and that’s when she disappeared as she walked out of his view. Jake probably looked like an idiot, but he probably looked more of an idiot when he immediately took out his phone and checked her information.

L/n Y/n. That’s your name. Jake felt himself smiling at his phone like a weirdo. He has to tell the guys this. He typed the group chat name and clicked it.

Jake: You guys won’t believe what just fucking happened.

Sunghoon: You finally made matcha?

Jake: Even better, I asked a girl out and she’s fucking hot.

Jay: No way dude. I told you you can do it!

Jake: Jesus christ I’m scared. What if she thinks I’m weird for being a virgin at this age?

…

Sunghoon: Shit

Jay: Fuck

Jay: I completely forgot you’re a virgin.

…

Jake: Yeah I’m fucked.

To say the least, it wasn’t really Jake’s fault for not texting you at all for the past two days. What if you were waiting for him to text? You most likely were, but Jake felt like a complete idiot for even thinking you weren’t. Jay and Sunghoon tried to help out with texting you, as in saying ‘hey how about we just go on that date and see where it goes? No sex!’ but clearly that wasn’t gonna do any better. That’s also what you most likely wanted too. And Jay and Sunghoon know Jake would happily comply without saying he’s a virgin. To what Jay said, virgins are the last thing girls want to have sex with. They like experienced men. Men that would actually blow their back out. And yet, Jake wasn’t like that at all. He was a guy who never jerked off before and most likely never will.

“Dude you’re fucking fried if you don’t say anything soon.” Sunghoon said. It was already the afternoon when Sunghoon decided to break the silence with Jake’s situationship. Jake groaned and put his face in his hands.

“I don’t blame her if she’s probably getting pussy pounded by another dude by now.” Jay added. Sunghoon elbowed him. Jake glared at him even though he wasn’t really wrong.

“I don’t know. What if I just cancel it?” Jake muttered, running a hand through his hair. "What if I mess up- well I already did. What if she doesn't like me?"

Jay shook his head firmly, “No way, Jake. This is your chance to show her who you really are. You can't back out now. Who cares if you’re a virgin? I know I said they like experienced men- which is not a lie, but hey, maybe she likes inexperienced guys?”

Sunghoon nodded in agreement, "Jay's right. But if you really don't want to go, you don't have to force yourself. Just be honest with her."

Jake sighed, clearly torn. They both weren’t wrong. Maybe he’s just overthinking it. Maybe you did like inexperienced guys, "I just don't know what to do."

Jay patted Jake’s shoulder firmly, “Dude, just try.” He said. And when Sunghoon gave him a firm look, Jake knew himself what he was gonna do.

It was a lot harder than expected. He was debating whether you’re a caller or a texter. Would it be weird to randomly call you instead? Fuck, but to hear your voice would be amazing. So that’s exactly what Jake did. He typed in your name and clicked on it. His finger hovered over the ‘call’ button. He took a deep breath before clicking it. The line was silent for a few seconds before you answered.

“Hello?” You questioned. Jake suddenly felt the words he was gonna say disappear. You said it again as Jake shook his head.

“H-Hi! This is Y/n?” He stirred. He mentally slapped himself for asking an obvious question. A light giggle came from the other side.

“This is. Is this the barista I gave my number too?” You joked. If it weren’t for your pretty voice Jake would be assuming you were making fun of him.

“Yeah, it’s Jake.” He mumbled. You hummed against the line making him shiver.

“Didn’t expect you to call. I’m glad you did though.” You let out a breathy laugh. Jake nodded his head as if you could see him, “Well, did you wanna talk about the date?”

“Yeah, I did. I was wondering if you wanna go tomorrow? I’ll pick you up.” He said. He could practically feel his heart beating out of his chest when you were silent.

“Okay. Tomorrow it is!” You agreed. He let out a sigh of relief. It was perfect.

“Okay, see you then!” He replied. You gave a small ‘bye’ before hanging up. Jake tossed his phone on the bed and smiled. He was not gonna fuck this up.

Maybe he was. It wasn’t even a minute when Jay busted through his apartment door at nine in the morning with a tired Sunghoon by his side. Apparently when Jake goes on dates it’s a routine to help him with his clothes. He watched as Jay scanned through his clothing in his messy closet while Sunghoon was sleeping on his bed. Jake doesn’t remember telling them they can just do this.

“We definitely need to go shopping after your date.” Jay mumbled, but Jake heard the whole thing.

“Let’s not talk about your style old grandpa.” Jake scoffed. He rolled his eyes when Jay ignored him by sliding the hangers louder. He stared over at Sunghoon sound asleep, “Why did you even bring Sunghoon along?”

Jay stopped sliding the hangers and turned around, letting out a deep sigh, “He wanted to come. Him and his girlfriend are still fighting.”

Jake eyebrows furrowed. Seriously, it was getting out of hand. Is he seriously get no night rest with her? Jake tucked the blanket up to Sunghoon chest who let out a little snore. Jay was staring pitifully. It was quiet for a few seconds, not one of them talking until Jake’s phone started ringing.

“Bro, why is your phone ringing? Aren’t you going to answer?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow. Jake glanced at the screen, and his heart did a flip when he saw your name. He scrambled to sit up, muttering, “Oh my god,” before frantically swiping to answer the call. Jay watched the whole chaos unfold.

“Hello?!” Jake practically screamed into the phone, his voice cracking slightly. Jay gave him a look that was equal parts amused and disappointed, mouthing, ‘chill dude’. Jake gulped harshly waiting for you to say something.

“Uh… hey,” You said on the other end, sounding slightly startled by his volume, “Just wondering… when are you gonna pick me up?”

Jake slapped a hand over his forehead, realizing he hadn’t even started getting ready yet. This was Jays fault, “Oh! Uh, soon! I just—I need to, um, get dressed real quick.”

There was a pause, and then your soft laugh, “Okay. Just let me know when you’re on your way, and I’ll text you the address.”

“Cool, cool,” Jake stammered, nodding furiously even though you couldn’t see him, “I’ll—I’ll let you know. Yeah.”

As soon as he hung up, Jay let out a sigh and leaned back on the closet door, shaking his head, “Man, that was painful to watch.”

Jake shot him a glare, “What? I answered, didn’t I?”

“Barely. You sounded like you just found out you won the lottery or something,” Jay teased, “Get it together, Romeo.”

Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. He needs to practice to not look like a complete weirdo towards you. It’s more embarrassing knowing that one of his friends watched the whole thing, “Shut up. I need to figure out what I’m wearing.”

Jay watched as Jake sprinted towards his closet, muttering to himself about shirts and jackets, “This is why you’re single, dude,” Jay spoke. He heard Jake letting out a little protest but saying nothing else.

His phone let out a ‘ping!’ and as he snatched it off the bed he saw you send your address. You don’t live too far which is a good thing. Jake liked the message before he felt a heavy feeling on his back. He rolled over to feel a clothes on his back.

“Wear that. It’s better than nothing.” Jay spoke. Jake grabbed the clothing and scanned them. A slim fit blue cotton sweater with black pants. Surprisingly it didn’t look like bad outfit. Jake didn’t say anything else when he headed to the bathroom to change into it.

Jake emerged from the bathroom, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he stepped into his room, “Alright,” He announced, standing in front of Jay with an expectant look, “What do you think?”

Jay, who had been scrolling through his phone, glanced up—and then did a double take. He raised his eyebrows. It was definitely a nice outfit. Made by Jay obviously.

“Huh,” Jay said, a smirk creeping onto his face, “I’m surprised.”

Jake blinked, “Surprised?”

“Yeah,” Jay replied, sitting back on the bed, “Surprised it actually looks good. But then again, not surprised. I’m a genius when it comes to this stuff.”

Jake rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips, “Right. Thanks for your expert opinion,” He muttered, heading toward his closet to grab a pair of matching shoes.

Jay watched as Jake slipped them on, tying the laces with a focused expression, “You nervous or something?”

“No,” Jake lied quickly, straightening up and brushing his hands over his pants, “I think I’m ready.”

“Hold up,” Jay said, getting up and rummaging through a small drawer by the TV. A second later, he tossed something at Jake.

Jake caught it, frowning as he realized it was a pair of glasses, “What’s this for?”

Jay shrugged, “They’ll pull the whole look together. Trust me.”

Jake hesitated, then slid the glasses on. He turned toward the mirror near the door, adjusting them as he took in his reflection, “… Okay, not bad,” he admitted.

“Not bad?” Jay scoffed, “You look like you just stepped out of a catalog. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Jake laughed under his breath, he couldn’t be more grateful for Jay at these times. He grabbed his keys from the counter, “Alright, I’m heading out. Are you guys gonna be staying by the time I get back?”

Jay gave him a mock salute, leaning back on the bed again, “Good luck, lover boy. And no, most likely not, I’ll wake Sunghoon up soon and maybe get him breakfast.”

Jake shot him a grin. He shook his head, stepping out the door and heading toward his car, his heart pounding a little harder than he’d like to admit. Once he started the car he went right to your house. Jake drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at the GPS on his phone as he followed the directions to your house. The drive had been quiet, save for the faint hum of his playlist in the background, but as he turned into your neighborhood, he couldn’t help but sit up straighter.

The houses here were massive.

Each one seemed more impressive than the last—pristine lawns, tall gates, sleek cars in driveways. Jake felt his brows furrow as he passed by what looked like a mansion with marble columns. If you were this rich, why would agree to go on a date with someone like him? You could practically be dating millionaires! It kind of reminded him of Jays house. Jays house 0.2?

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, double-checking the address you’d sent him. When he finally reached your house, he froze, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Your house was huge, the kind of place he’d only seen in movies. The front yard alone was immaculate, with perfectly trimmed hedges and a fountain in the center of the driveway.

He pulled his car up to the curb, feeling suddenly out of place in his old but reliable sedan. He sat there for a moment, staring up at the house in awe before shaking his head. Jake grabbed his phone and called you, his palms a little sweaty for reasons he couldn’t explain.

“Hey,” he said when you picked up, “Uh, I’m here.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in a second,” You replied, your voice soft and calm.

Jake hung up, taking a deep breath as he adjusted his rearview mirror. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but when you stepped out the front door, it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. You looked stunning. The way you carried yourself, the way the evening light hit your features—it was almost unfair. Jake watched as you walked toward his car, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as his heart thudded in his chest.

You opened the passenger door, slipping inside with a shy smile, “Hi,” You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Jake didn’t respond right away. He was too busy staring, his brain struggling to come up with something—anything—to say. Up close, you were even prettier than he remembered, and it was doing things to his ability to form coherent thoughts.

“Hi,” He finally managed, his voice coming out a little rougher than he intended. You glanced at him, your smile widening slightly, and Jake felt like he was going to lose it. Fuck, you looked so hot.

He cleared his throat, quickly looking away as he started the car, “Uh, you—you look really nice,” He said, mentally kicking himself for how lame that sounded.

“Thank you,” You replied, your cheeks flushing as you glanced out the window. Jake stole another quick glance at you as he pulled away from the curb, wondering how he was supposed to focus on driving when you were sitting right there, looking like that.

The drive was silent but comfortable. He gave you a few looks as you stared out the window quietly. He assumed he should talk more when he gets to the restaurant since you looked so peaceful. He was hoping to God it wasn’t too expensive since he’s quit low on money as embarrassing as it sounds since it was Jays recommendations.

Jake pulled his car into the parking lot of a sleek, upscale restaurant, the golden glow of its soft lighting spilling through its large windows. He parked near the entrance, cutting the engine before glancing at you. You were staring at the building, your eyes wide with surprise, “This place looks… really nice,” You said, your voice tinged with awe.

Jake scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little nervous, “Yeah, I thought you might like it,” He said casually, though he’d spent way too long talking to Jay about ones that looked impressive but wouldn’t completely destroy his wallet.

You smiled at him, and it was the kind of smile that made him feel like he’d done something right for the first time, “I do. It’s perfect.”

Relieved, Jake got out of the car and quickly moved to your side to open the door for you. You stepped out gracefully, and the two of you walked toward the restaurant together, the soft sound of your shoes clicking against the pavement. Inside, the restaurant was even more elegant than it looked from the outside.

The low hum of conversation and soft instrumental music created an intimate atmosphere, and the warm lighting cast a golden glow over the polished wooden tables. Jake led you to the hostess, and soon enough, you were seated at a cozy table by the window. The two of you looked through the menus briefly before the waiter came to take your order, and the conversation flowed easily with the waiter as you waited for your food to arrive.

When the waiter finally brought your meals, the dishes were plated so beautifully it almost seemed like a shame to eat them, “This looks amazing,” You said, your eyes lighting up as you picked up your fork.

Jake smiled, watching your expression, “Yeah, definitely worth the drive.”

You took a bite, your face softening in delight. Jake chuckled at your cute expression, “Wow. Okay, this is really good.”

Jake took a bite of his own food and nodded in agreement, “They weren’t kidding about this place. I think I’m gonna start coming here every week.”

You laughed softly, “You’re really into food, huh?”

“Are you kidding? Food is, like, my love language,” Jake said, leaning back slightly, “Good food can fix almost anything.”

“Fair point,” you said, twirling your fork around your plate, “But if food’s your love language, what’s your hate language?”

Jake tilted his head thoughtfully like a puppy, “Cold coffee,” He said without missing a beat.

You burst out laughing, and Jake grinned, watching you, “Seriously, though. When someone orders an iced latte and lets it sit until the ice melts, I feel like I’ve failed them as a barista.”

“Iced lattes are your nemesis?” You teased, still giggling.

“Don’t underestimate how serious this is,” Jake replied, pretending to be solemn.

The two of you laughed together, and the conversation flowed easily as you continued eating. You asked him about his work, and he told you a funny story about a customer who ordered a “cappuccino but with no foam” and then got mad when it wasn’t a latte. By the time the plates were cleared, Jake felt like the two of you had been in your own little bubble, laughing and talking like old friends.

When you left the restaurant, the air outside was cool and refreshing. Jake walked beside you toward his car, his hands in his pockets. Once you were back inside, he hesitated for a moment before glancing over at you.

“So,” He started, turning the key in the ignition but not driving just yet, “Since I’ve, uh… seen … seen your house now…” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ve been wondering,” he said, glancing at you quickly before looking back at the steering wheel, “What do you do for a living?”

You smiled knowingly, leaning back in your seat,“You were right,” You said, your tone playful, “I’m a businesswoman. I work in an office building with my friend. We run a consulting firm together.”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up, “Seriously? That’s… wow. No wonder you’re living like that.”

You chuckled softly, “Yeah, I get paid pretty well. It’s a good gig.”

Jake nodded, clearly impressed. Damn, you had it good, “That’s really cool. Like, actually really cool.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before smiling again, “I think it’s cool that you’re a barista,” You said sincerely.

Jake blinked, caught off guard, “Me? Nah, it’s not that impressive,” He mumbled, suddenly feeling shy as he looked down at the steering wheel again.

“I’m serious,” You insisted, “It’s such a unique job, and it suits you. I bet you’re really good at it.”

Jake’s ears burned, and he couldn’t fight the sheepish smile spreading across his face, “Thanks,” He muttered, feeling like he was seventeen all over again.

You laughed softly, and Jake finally pulled out of the parking lot, his heart lighter than it had been in a while. As he drove back to your house he couldn’t help but laugh every time you pulled off a joke. You would giggle every time he told you a funny story about his friends. It was all too perfect to him. He didn’t want the night to end.

But sadly he soon got to your house and parks on the curb. It was silent for few minutes when you offered him a smile, “It was nice having this date with you. I mean, I didn’t know you were this fun.” You joked.

Jake chuckled, “You’d be surprised.” He replied earning another pretty laugh of yours. It was a few seconds of silence when you made eye contact with him. Jake did the same, though he noticed you were not looking at his eyes anymore, but his lips. He felt his heart pounding against his chest.

“I think you should-“ You cut him off by smashing your lips against his. It wasn’t dramatic or planned, just a soft, tentative kiss that felt like the most natural thing in the world. But Jake didn’t move. His lips didn’t press back into yours, and his entire body tensed as if someone had hit pause on him.

You pulled back, confused, your brow furrowing as you searched his face. He was staring at you, wide-eyed, his cheeks flushed a deep red, “Jake,” You said softly, your voice careful, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” He blurted, a little too quickly. His eyes darted everywhere except to yours, “I’m—I’m fine. You should, uh—you should go.”

The words must’ve hit you like a cold splash of water, “Go?”

Jake nodded, his hands gripping the edge of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white, “Yeah, I think—uh, I think you should leave.”

You blinked, your heart sinking, “Did I… did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Jake said quickly, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted you to think was that you did something wrong, “It’s not that. It’s just…” He trailed off, chewing on his bottom lip as if the words were physically stuck in his throat.

“Just what?” You pressed gently, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake hesitated, his face twisting in frustration before he finally blurted, “I can’t kiss.”

You stared at him, taken aback, “What?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before, okay?” He said, his voice rising slightly before he looked away, embarrassed, “I didn’t know what to do, and I—I froze, and now it’s just weird.”

“Jake,” You started, but he cut you off.

“It’s better if you just go,” He said quickly, his voice quiet now, almost resigned. He still couldn’t look at you, “Seriously.”

He could tell you didn’t want to leave—not like this—but he sat there, closed off and distant, making it clear he wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly, “I’ll go.”

Jake didn’t move, didn’t even look at you as you made your way to the door. You paused for a moment, your hand on the handle, most likely hoping he might say something, anything, to stop you. But he didn’t. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the weight of what had just happened settled heavily in his chest. He watched as you opened your door and shut it without looking back. He didn’t blame you at all.

Inside, Jake buried his face in his hands, his stomach twisting with guilt. He didn’t want you to leave, but he couldn’t get past the knot of insecurity and shame tightening in his chest. He was fucking stupid. Why was he such an embarrassment. Jay was right. No girl would like a guy who is inexperienced. A few seconds he started the car and drove back to his house.

Once he got there it was dark and cold. He slammed his bedroom shut and lay on his bed in his date clothes. He didn’t even think about messaging his friends about what happened. He was too embarrassed. Neither did he messaged you an apology. You probably already blocked him. And he would have no other choice but to accept it.

Jake stood behind the counter at the cafe, aimlessly wiping a perfectly clean section of the countertop for what felt like the hundredth time. The usual clatter of mugs, the hum of conversation, and the hiss of the espresso machine buzzed around him, but he barely registered any of it. His mind was elsewhere—stuck on the events of the night before.

“Jake!”

He flinched, his hand freezing mid-wipe as Jay’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Jay was leaning against the espresso machine, a latte cup in hand, watching him with a raised brow. Shit, did Jay noticed he was wiping the same place over and over? Before he could say anything, Jay cut him to it, clearly upset.

“What’s up with you?” Jay asked, tilting his head. His voice was a bit gentler than Jake was expecting, “You’ve been zoning out all morning. You didn’t even react when I stole that tip you left on the counter.”

Jake blinked, confused, “Wait, what tip?”

Jay snorted, “Exactly. You’re out of it, man. So… how’d the date go?”

Jake glanced at him and then quickly looked away, focusing on folding a towel, “Fine,” He said flatly. Jake felt a lump forming in his throat just remembering the vents from last night.

Jay set his cup down with a loud clink, “Fine? That’s it? You’re acting like someone ran over your dog, and all I get is ‘fine’? Spill it, Jake. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Jake muttered, keeping his eyes on the towel.

From the other end of the counter, Sunghoon appeared, balancing a tray of mugs. He raised an eyebrow as he set the tray down, “What’s going on?”

“Jake’s being weird,” Jay said, gesturing toward him, “He says the date was ‘fine,’ but he’s been moping around all morning like it wasn’t fine.”

Sunghoon looked at Jake, who was now scrubbing the same spot on the counter he’d been wiping earlier, “Jake,” Sunghoon said carefully, “Did she do something that made you uncomfortable?”

Jake froze for a moment before shaking his head. He knew Sunghoon would have his back if anything, “No. It wasn’t her. It was… me.”

Jay frowned, “You? What do you mean?”

Jake hesitated, gripping the towel tightly, “She kissed me,” He said quietly, his face heating up.

Jay’s eyes widened and let out a him, clearly not getting what the fuck was wrong, “Okay, that sounds like a good thing. Why are you acting like it wasn’t?”

Jake sighed, feeling the weight of their stares, “Because I panicked. I didn’t kiss her back. And then I told her I couldn’t kiss, and I—” He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “I told her she should leave.”

Sunghoon set the tray down slowly, his expression unreadable, “You told her to leave?”

Jake nodded miserably. Jay stared at him for a moment before letting out a low whistle, “Wow. That’s bad. That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Sunghoon immediately elbowed him in the side, “Jay!”

“What? I’m just being honest!” Jay said defensively. Jake didn’t respond, his shoulders slumping as he folded the towel into a perfect square.

“Okay, but seriously,” Sunghoon said, his tone softer now, “Why’d you panic? You like her, right?”

Jake let out a humorless laugh? “Of course I like her. That’s the problem. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I didn’t know what to do, and I freaked out. Now she probably thinks I don’t like her or that I’m some kind of idiot.”

Jay leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms, “Dude, you’re overthinking this. Freaking out over your first kiss? That’s normal. It doesn’t make you an idiot.”

Jake shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. I made it weird. She left, and now I don’t even know if I should text her or what I’d even say.”

Sunghoon leaned against the counter beside him, “Be honest,” He said simply, “Tell her why you reacted the way you did. She kissed you for a reason—she likes you. If you explain, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Jake frowned, still uncertain, “You really think she’d want to hear from me after that?”

Jay nudged him lightly, “Absolutely. Just don’t overthink it, man. If you wait too long, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy.”

Jay was right. He was already crazy enough for letting you go like that. He nodded and gave them a small smile. He’ll make it happen today. He’ll apologize to you today. So, as soon as his shift ended, Jake didn’t bother going home to change or unwind. He got in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove toward your house. His mind raced with what he would say.

“I’m sorry.” Too simple.

“I panicked because I didn’t want to mess up.” Too revealing.

“I don’t know how to kiss because I’ve never been with anyone.” He winced at that thought. He didn’t want to come off as pathetic.

The drive was short, but it felt like an eternity. When he finally pulled into your neighborhood, the looming houses made him feel like he was stepping into another world. They were big—bigger than anything he’d ever known—and it reminded him of just how different your lives were. He pulled up to your driveway, the size of your house making his stomach twist again. Shutting off the engine, Jake took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. You’ve got this. Just explain yourself and hope for the best, he thought.

He climbed out of the car, made his way to your front door, and knocked. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited. Seconds felt like hours, and just as he was starting to wonder if you weren’t home, the door opened.

But it wasn’t you.

Jake blinked in surprise, his brain struggling to process who stood before him. It was Sunghoon’s girlfriend. Wait, what the fuck?

“What… what are you doing here?” Jake stammered.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms, “I should be asking you the same thing.”

Jake opened his mouth, closed it, then managed to say, “I’m here to see Y/n? She lives here right?”

The words had barely left his lips when you appeared behind her, your eyes widening at the sight of him, “Jake?” You questioned.

“Hey,” He said awkwardly, shifting on his feet.

Sunghoon’s girlfriend glanced between the two of you, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips, “Well, this just got interesting,” She said, stepping aside to let you take over.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding and opening the door wider, “Come in.”

Jake stepped inside, his hands shoved into his pockets. The awkwardness in the air was thick, but before he could say anything, he turned back to Sunghoon’s girlfriend, “Wait—what are you doing here?”

She leaned casually against the wall, looking amused, “I could ask you the same thing again, but fine. I’m here because I’m her friend.”

Jake blinked, looking between her and you, “Since when have you two been friends?”

“Since we started working together,” She said with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jake stared at her, his mouth slightly open in surprise. He had no idea you worked together. Neither did he knew Sunghoon was interested in bitches like her. Before he could ask more, she clapped her hands together.

“Well, I was just leaving,” She said, grabbing her bag from the couch. She gave you a quick hug, then shot Jake a teasing look as she passed him, “Good luck.”

Jake stood there for a moment, stunned. He wanted to ask a hundred questions about her being here, but he decided to focus on the real reason he’d come. He turned to you, his nerves suddenly crashing down on him.

“So,” You said softly, crossing your arms as you leaned against the arm of the couch, “Why are you here?”

Jake scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze, “I, uh, wanted to talk about yesterday.”

You straightened, your expression cautious, “Okay.”

Jake took a deep breath, forcing himself to look at you, “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. For how I acted.”

Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, letting him continue, “I panicked,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, “I’ve never… I’ve never kissed anyone before. I didn’t know what to do, and I felt like an idiot. So instead of saying something, I just pushed you away.”

Your lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across your face, “Jake…”

He shook his head quickly, cutting you off, “I know it was dumb. I shouldn’t have done that. And I understand if you’re upset or if you don’t want to see me again, but I just couldn’t leave things the way they were. I like you. A lot. And I didn’t want you to think I don’t because of how I acted.”

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Then, you stepped closer, your expression softening, “Jake,” You said gently, “I’m not upset. I was just… confused. I didn’t understand why you reacted the way you did.”

He looked at you, relief washing over him like a wave, “You’re not mad?”

You shook your head, “No. I wish you’d told me sooner, but I get it now. And for the record,” You added with a small smile, “I like you too.”

Jake’s face flushed, his heart skipping a beat, “You do?”

You laughed softly, “Yes, Jake. I do.”

He let out a shaky breath, a smile tugging at his lips, “Okay. Good. Because I really want to try again. If you’re okay with that.”

“I’d like that,” You said, your smile growing. Jake felt like a little kid having a crush for the first time. You extended your hand out, waiting for him to grab it. He did and you escorted him to your living room.

It wasn’t a second when you suddenly wrapped your arms around his neck and stared at him seductively. Fuck, he’s really gonna do this. You closed your eyes and leaned in, Jake did the same. That’s when he felt your lips finally connecting. It was slow and gentle, as if he was gonna runaway again, but he wasn’t. He moved his lips slowly against yours, matching the pace. You let out a noise when he gripped your neck tightly.

Who knew your lips felt fucking amazing against his. His other hand rubbed against your open waist from your crop top. He suddenly let out a surprised whine when you gripped his dick. You froze and broke the kiss, your saliva connecting together, “D-Did you just whine?” You asked breathlessly.

Jake shoved his face in your neck, “Please, don’t make fun of me.” He whimpered. Your eyes went wide at the sudden tone of his voice. It was quiet and submissive. You then let out a little chuckle.

“Don’t worry. It was hot.” You admitted. Jake sighed when he felt you tug at his hair. He stared at you and gave you another peck on the lips. You slowly pushed him towards your couch as he fell back on it. You got on top of him and kissed him again, feeling his dick harden underneath.

He let out whines and moans feeling you grind so good against him. He never felt this type of pleasure before. You let out quiet moans as you bucked your hips. You lowered your head to his neck and softly sucked on it. Jake felt too much at the same time, he felt like he was gonna cum.

“Agh!- wait a minute!” He whined. You stopped sucking and looked up at him confused. He let out a shaky sigh, “I don’t wanna cum soon.”

You blinked. A smile was forming on your lips, “Why? Wanna cum inside me instead?” You purred. Jake eyes widened. Your mouth is so fucking nasty. He loves it a little too much.

“Y-Yes! Wanna cum inside.” He sighed. You lifted yourself up a bit and unbuckled his pants. He felt himself feeling more urgent the way you slowly undid his pants. He lifted his hips up to help you have access to his boxers. You lowered towards his cloth dick and rubbed it.

Jake threw his head back and let out a strangle moan. You gripped it, squeezed it, and stroke it. It all made Jake feel so dizzy and yet so good. You finally lowered his boxers revealing his dick, “Holy shit.” You mumbled. He was huge. Jake shyly covered himself with his arm making you giggle.

You gripped his dick and softly stroke it before spitting on it. Jake gasped when he felt your saliva trickling down his shaft and let out a cry when you suddenly engulfed his dick in your mouth. You gagged a bit feeling him hit the back of your throat. Jake eyes rolled back feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You moaned around it and bobbed your head slowly trying to get used to the feeling. Jake gripped your hair and held you in place.

“Hah- M’gonna cum!” He cried out. Ghat didn’t stop you though. You took his hand off your head and went faster. Jake bucked his hips making you gag again, but the pain felt good. His orgasm came faster than he was expecting. Cumming deep in your mouth. What shocked him was when you swallowed everything easily. You took his dick out of your mouth and licked your lips.

Fuck, you were gonna be the death of him, “You taste good.” You said. As if it was the most normal thing to say after an intense blowjob. Jake breathed unevenly and gave you a sloppy smile. Round two of a blowjob didn’t sound bad.

You took off your shirt and unclipping your bra revealing your perky tits. Jake felt himself drooling staring at them. You giggled and grabbed his hands, putting them right on your tits. Jake cursed and gripped them softly. You bit your lip to suppress a moan. You began grinding again and let out a whimper feeling his tip hit your clit perfectly. One of Jake’s hand gripped your tit while the other helped you move your hips. You felt like you were gonna cum just from this.

You suddenly stop causing Jake to look up at you dazed, “Don’t wanna cum like this.” You stated. You got off of him and took off your underwear. With your pussy finally in view, Jake already felt like he was gonna cum the second time. You got back on top of him and grabbed his dick, aligning it at your entrance. You slowly sunk down and breathed out. He felt so big inside you. Is he gonna fit all the way? Your eyes teared up a little making Jake stare worriedly.

“D-Does it hurt? We can stop-“

“No! I’m fine. J-Just getting used to your size.” You panted. When he was fully inside you slowly grind getting used to the size. Jake had his head back feeling your velvet walls squeeze him so tight. You were so wet.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum again.” Jake whispered.

You shook your head, “Try to hold it, please.” And who was Jake to say no? You began slowly going up and down, your moans now getting louder by each second. Jake gripped your hips and helped you. He bit his lip feeling you milk his dick.

The sound of skin slapping and moans bouncing off the walls made Jake realize he was actually fucking somebody. His moans suddenly got louder when you began bouncing faster, your tits jiggling everyone your pussy took his whole dick in. Your pussy was practically throbbing around him.

“Shit! Jake! Gonna cum!” You cried. Jake held your hips and started fucking you from below. You let out scream when you finally came all over his dick. He whimpered and went faster. He thrusted five more times before cumming deep inside you.

You panted against his neck as he slipped his dick out of your leaking pussy causing you to whine. You laid there breathless while Jake twirled a strand of your hair, “Sorry, was I too rough?”

You giggled, “You were perfect.”

He smiled and hugged your waist, “I’m glad you were my first.” He mumbled in your ear. You hummed and closed your eyes. It was silent for a few seconds before Jake asked a question.

“Have you ever got eaten out before?” He asked. You glanced at him and slightly shook your head.

“I haven’t. I’ve seen videos but-“ Before you could say anything else Jake suddenly flipped you over making you lay on your back with him on top of you, “Jake! What are you-“

He didn’t say anything when he lifted your legs over his shoulders. You shook your head frantically, “W-Wait Jake! I’m still sensitive!” You reasoned. But it went in Jake’s ear out the other when he lowered his face to your pussy.

No, he hasn’t ate pussy before, but he watched enough videos to know what he’s doing. He opened your folds with his fingers making you let out a surprised gasp before you felt his hot tongue lick you bud. You arched your back and whimpered at the new feeling. Jake licked and sucked your hole harshly, your pussy producing more slick from the pleasurable sensation. You felt tears gather in your eyes feeling overstimulated but not wanting him to stop.

You felt your orgasm coming and gripped Jake’s head, “Hng!- J-Jake I’m gonna cum!” You moaned. You felt your orgasm coming over you when he punched your bud with his fingers. Jake licked up your juices and hummed. You tasted sweet. He licked you clean and let your thighs fall on the couch, your legs shaking at the rough orgasm you had. Jake smiled and kissed your cheek.

“That wasn’t cool.” You breathed out.

Jake laughed and hugged your side, “I might do that again when you’re not expecting it.” He smiled. You glared at him, but couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. As Jake held you close when you fell asleep, he couldn’t help but feel like he achieved something special. And it’s all thanks to you.

BONUS

Jay: How’d it go? Did she forgive you?

Jake: Yeah, we had sex ^^

Sunghoon: Ew, don’t type it so cute

Jake: Sorry

Jake: BTW I didn’t know she was friends with your gf Sunghoon.

Sunghoon: She is?

Jake: Yeah, she was at her house when I stopped by

Sunghoon: That explains why she was suddenly excited for her friend

Sunghoon: Ig she knew what you guys were gonna do

Jay: Are you guys still fighting?

Sunghoon: No, she forgave me when I gave her flowers

Jay: Good! So how about that threesome I was talking about-

Sunghoon left the group chat

taglist — @laylasbunbunny @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @yoongisbaguetteshoes @enhypenlovre @melancholy-z @minghaosimp @dudewhoism @honeychocos @hearts4hee @tlnyjoong @1013club @yagsoobin @mrsjohnnysuh @heekilrvs @enhasrii @prettygurlnikittie @jakeswifez @yunhoswrldddd @seokseokjinkim @slay-you-slay-all-day @whateverhoon @luminouskalopsia @noturmommasstuff @love4hee @sayuridump @ddeonuu4me @selleprotection @jenn-ieverse @ddolleri @babyy-bambii @nikiswifiee @rjssierjrie @sweetshinypuppy @moonpri @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @jayjw16enxp @aanniikkaa @prkhoonlvr @devi1d0ppi0 @enhygene @talyaxia @demigodmahash @shawnyle @0hmyengene @dazzlingjaeyun @ancnymcnzjy @immortalonie @jenniferthekittycat @fancypeacepersona @skzenhalove

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

AU where Jason comes back to Gotham and begins his plan to confront Batman and all that. Except after only like a week the Joker gets hit by a bus and then shot by a little old lady with a shotgun and dies.

Jason’s plan is now in shambles because the dramatic climax of his plan is no longer possible. But that’s fine. He’ll think of some other suitable alternative. Granted, it’s not quite the same if he uses some other villain. Making Batman choose doesn’t mean nearly as much when it’s not about the person who killed him.

And really, is he going to try and get Batman to kill Black Mask or something? Scarecrow? Red Hood is competent; he could do it himself so why bother.

So Jason lays low continues to build his criminal empire with astounding speed and efficiency. If only he could think of a good way to announce his return. Nothing he can think of is dramatic enough.

Meanwhile, the Bats are freaking out because who is this guy that’s taken over half of the Gotham underworld in like a month? He’s obviously trained, but they just can’t seem to get any information on who he is or where he came from. It is beyond frustrating.

After a few months Jason is frustrated that he just can’t seem to find any dramatic good way of making Batman prove himself. It has to be something big! Something magnificent!

During his weekly chat with Talia he complains about his problems and she suggests he come back for a visit. He argues that he can’t just leave, but she says if he has competent enough lieutenants it’d be fine. He spends the next three weeks making sure that everything will be fine if he leaves for a week. He will not have all of his hard work falling apart and going to waste due to incompetence. Absolutely not.

So then once his lieutenants are sufficiently prepared (and the rest of Gotham’s criminal element sufficiently cowed), he heads to Nanda Parbat, only to find Ra’s on the phone with Bruce, who is demanding to know if the Red Hood has any affiliation with the league.

Oh. Oh. He can give them affiliation.

A new plan begins to form.

He’s going to be the most affiliated he can be. Jason immediately goes to Talia with his newest plan: Overthrow Ra’s and takeover the league. Talia whips out her forty step outline for overthrowing Ra’s and tells Jason she’s so proud of him.

Jason has a new goal now, so he gets to work. He checks on things in Gotham, but everything seems to be fine and there haven’t been any unplanned explosions so it should be fine if he stays here for a bit.

Taking over Gotham really was good practice, as it turns out. Thanks to Talia’s plans and previous foundational efforts the takeover happens in no time.

Meanwhile the bats are still freaking out. Red Hood hasn’t been seen in three weeks, he may or may not have league of assassins connections, and even in his absence his goons seem to be managing things competently.

Back in Nanda Parbat, Jason and Talia finish their takeover. And now, finally, he’s ready to confront Batman.

He arrives in Gotham as the new head of the league. His arrival is loud, elaborate, and dramatic enough to fulfill his inner theater kid’s dreams.

Batman is speechless. And not his usual grunts instead of words, but actual surprised speechless. Jason is alive?!?!?!?

Jason was not expecting all the tears. And hugs. And mother henning. Goodness gracious, this was not part of the plan.

Bruce is obviously struggling with Jason’s revelation that he took over the league, but the newest little birdie seems almost relieved at that(?) and Dick and Alfred both seem strangely proud. Whatever. Even Bruce seems to be at least mostly ignoring that for now.

Then someone asks him if he knows Red Hood. Jason blinks. Says that yeah, he knows Red Hood. Everyone seems to ease at that. One mystery solved. Jason quickly realizes that most of them have no idea he is Red Hood. Cass seems to be the only exception but also appears amused and willing enough to not mention it.

Dramatic appearance complete, Jason now has a new goal: see how long he can keep the bats (minus Cass and potentially Alfred) in the dark about his crime boss identity.

He will bribe Cass as much as it takes to keep her on board with the causing chaos plan, but she seems eager enough. Favorite sibling status definitely unlocked. (The whole killing thing is fought over at great length and a truce of sorts is eventually made)

David Cain is never heard from again.

Damian shows up at some point.

At least one league member has suddenly found themselves as an HR rep for Gotham criminals? They’re still not quite sure how that happened.

[luslushearth]

Hate sex with Sunday…. (Placed before he becomes harmonious or whatever)

Warnings: Afab reader, overstimulation, degrading, unprotected, creampie, Reader is really vulgar/bratty, Marking

The silent serenity of the room is disturbed by pants, and loud squelches of your growing lust splattering through the air. The only thing muffling your moans is a gloved hand engulfing your lips. Unfortunately for Sunday, you are purposefully trying to be heard by the entirety of Penaconys dreaming visitors. Sometimes, he seems to forget just how much of a handful you are…

You bite his gloved hand, the man pounding into your pussy hissing in pain. Yet, each thrust continues its relentless pace, only slowing to allow him words, an insult (though he calls them ‘critiques’) for you.

“You… I truly… do dislike you.”

“Aww… Haa… Seems like your dick loves me though.” You’re immediately silenced when Sunday burrows your body into the matress, hitting that spot inside you when he thrusts at a particular angle. “Ah…! S-see…? Your dick really does love— Oh…!” Sundays finger works diligently on stimulating your clit, the cloth fabric of his gloves only furthering the sensation. “Maybe….! Maybe not me… But you’re really obsessed with my— Haahh… My— Mm..!” You don’t even have the chance to finish your sentence, Sundays lips finding refuge on yours.

He’s… Never done that before…

You moan into his lips, his thumb still grinding itself into your bud while his other hand plays with your tit, rolling the nub between his fingers.

When you pull away for air, you whisper his name, attempting to ask what it is he’s doing, but you’re stopped again when he dives into your mouth, spit exchanging with each movement. You can feel yourself approaching climax, much earlier than you bet to him you would. Which is horrible, because, that means you’ll essentially be a cocksleeve for him whenever he wishes for the next few months.

He separates his lips from you, smiling at the way a thick trail of saliva connects you two, spit trailing off the side of your mouth. It’s a thrilling site, one that makes him hit that spot in your walls even faster than before. His wings flap to the side of your head, cutting off your vision from anything else but him.

“You… Haah… You truly are a temptress.” All it takes is a finally snap of his hips and your hand flies up to his head, gripping his hair as your walls flutter around his length. Despite your blissful climax, he continues his ministrations slowly even as you cum, further serving your rapture. “It’s why I dislike you so.”

You’re not sure why he hates you so much, but you have no time to think about it, especially when he props himself up. He looks down at your dazed face, a smirk coating his lips. All too familiar.

“Wha… Give me some time to recover you beast— Ahh.. Fuck…!”

“It’s not fair if only you have release. Besides… Haa… You’ve survived… more than one hnngh, haven’t you?” … He plans to wreck the absolute hell out of you. He leans down to your ear, a husky voice escaping him, “You don’t deserve relaxation on the seventh day, so atone for your transgressions.” He props your legs above his shoulder, essentially preparing you to become his own personal cum dump.

“Sunday you little bastard—! Nghh…!” You won’t admit it him, you never will, but that was so hot. Yet again, he might know you think it, especially with the way your eyes roll back in pleasure, the idea of him emptying his seed furthering you thirst.

“I hope you remember that… Haah… promise… I prefer pe… pests at least remain orderly…” his thrusts grow sloppy, words slurring, a sign he’s close. In a last ditch effort of revenge, you laugh at him, tightening harder. You’ll shred his dignity too, even if you have to surrender your own.

He glares at your face, that sneer breaking when he can feel himself coming close, your second climax quickly reproaching. After a few more thrusts, he empties himself, all of himself into your body, not daring to pull out. In turn, your flutter around him once again, squirting at his abdomen, wetting expensive clothes. He allows himself to plug your hole, your fingers brushing through his hair while his face finds refuge in your neck.

“Aww, my favorite sight… the all famed Sunday pathetically weeping at getting his dick wet~ Now, what time do you want me out of here hm?”

“Did an imp like you really believe us to be done?” His hand reaches back to your hips, his grip tightening.

“… What?”

…

You lay on the side of the bed, glaring at the culprit of your current bed ridden state. He doesn’t return the sentiment, a false face of pleasantries returning your feelings.

“I hate you Sunday, whatever your last name is.”

“Hate is strong, I prefer dislike. Take my feelings for you.” He continues to smile even when you swat your hand at him, an attempt to kick him out of the bed.

“Yeah? Well you must’ve really like that huh?! Look at me you bastard!” You lift up the blanket, pointing at your pussy that drips with the multitudes of load he spent inside of you. At some point you lost count, but you know for sure it was more than 7. “I mean, how could someone cum that fucking much?!” He doesn’t answer, tilting his head, beaming. “I’m not even gonna start on all these bites you freak.”

“I see, so you’re saying you’re much to weak to go again?”

You pause. He’s doubting you.

“I could do it again.”

“Are you sure? My, I wouldn’t want to hurt such a frail being—“

“I can fuck you again Sunday, stop being—!” He’s already on you as quick as the words left your throat, your legs wrapping around his hips. He’s lucked out, this part of the dreamscape is emptier than usual at this time.

Unfortunately, you seem to be quite the opposite… You’ve fallen for Sundays tricks once more. Then again, the feeling of his dick rearranging your guts, isn’t as bad as you tell him it is.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Saw the post of you asking if we had any tropes or ideas we wanted to see u talk abt and jumped for joy 🙏 … must ask . Do u have any thoughts on ghost finding out reader is pregnant 😋😋

I like to think Ghost starts having suspicions before you do

Wrapped around each other’s bodies, limbs tangled in the sheets as you sleep peacefully with your other half by your side, he’s never not holding at least one of your boobs in his warm calloused palms. You start to wake up with complaints about how sore they are however, his hands in complete agreement with his eyes; your tits have gotten bigger.

And though he hates to see how uncomfortable they have you feeling all of a sudden, and how you whine so cutely about how you need new bras, your cleavage spilling out of your cups, he’s finding it rather difficult not to appreciate the new view.

Next though, he’s noticing how strange it is that foods you usually loved, now have you crinkling your nose up in disgust, turning your face away from the smell, or worse, that one time you ran to the bathroom to spill the contents of your stomach, utterly repulsed by a certain odor.

But he forgets that you haven’t requested Chinese food in nearly a month when instead he’s trying to wrap his mind around how you want peanut butter and jelly on a cheeseburger.

He certainly doesn’t think twice about how you’re just tad bit friskier than usual, pinching his ass and trying to jump his bones more often. There’s never been a lack of intimacy or wanting the other in your relationship, but you seem nearly insatiable recently, using and abusing his fingers, his mouth, his dick, multiple times a day. There are no complaints on his end, your man always being borderline desperate for you.

It’s when he’s been away for work for the last two weeks and he’s walking back into the house and he sees you, that his eyes cannot deny the way you’re simply glowing. Radiating effortless beauty in a way he’s never seen before, which is saying a lot considering you knock the breath out of him every time he’s lucky enough to see even just your shadow.

You look so soft, so sweet, so perfectly his.

He’s searching for a cloth to warm up under the faucet, preparing to clean up the mess he’s just made of you in bed over the last few hours, when his eyes land on the unopened box of tampons under the bathroom sink. His mind starts quickly doing the math, believing that in theory you should have had to open this pack by now, when things begin to click for him.

Laying naked on your back atop the messy sheets, still catching your breath and coming back down to earth after the many times Simon brought you to bliss tonight, you’re admittedly confused when he comes back into the bedroom without the towel he said he was going to get. You’re even more caught off guard when he approaches you and lays two hands on the sides of your stomach, face approaching your abdomen with an expression of concentration on his face.

“Si what are you-”

“Love, I think you’re pregnant.”

He’s lucky you’ve been having the same suspicion for a few days now, waiting for him to take an actual test and find out, otherwise you might be smacking him upside the head right about now.

Once you do take the test however and confirm what he already felt sure of, that he had put a baby in you, he’s asking you why it isn’t appropriate to tape it to the living room wall for everyone to see, elated to share the news with those in your lives, meanwhile you’ve just decided he won’t be helping decorate the nursery, beyond building furniture.