#opened another message but. only read a split second before closing it

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

I need to set something on fire desperately

[writingsbytee]

HIDDEN

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: NSFW; minors do not interact; mentions of domestic violence; self hate; angst; Terry is hard to read in the beginning.

SUMMARY: You’re running away from an abusive ex when you meet Terry working in one of his clubs.

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn; 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I took this idea and kind of ran with it. Let me know if you guys like it! I want this to be a series but only if you guys like it. I’m going to try switching POV’s; let me know if you guys like it or if it’s hard to follow.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper out. That fucking asshole shredded my passport. My expired ID will have to do for now. I’m running around the house trying to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake the sleeping monster who’s my soon to be ex. My phone vibrates in my back pocket, 

LEXI: Parked a block down, lights off.

ME: Give me 3 minutes.

I liked the message and continued to pack, I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I’d been with Rafa (ex boyfriend) for about a year before the motherfucker put his hands on me. I believed him when he said it was an accident. I looked at his tear stained face and heard the crack in his voice and thought ‘he loves me he won’t hurt me again’. Here I am two weeks later with a black eye, split lip, and I’m pretty sure some broken ribs

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I peek behind me making sure Rafa is still asleep. When I saw that he was, I let out a breath I was holding. I may or may not have slipped some crushed sleeping pills into Rafa’s evening whiskey, ensuring I wouldn’t be interrupted fleeing from his ass. Reaching under the bed, I grab my suitcase that’s pre-packed with everything I need (besides my passport) and head towards the door. 

Before my hand reaches the door handle, I look behind me at Rafa. His features relaxed in this state he doesn’t look nearly as menacing as he did two hours ago when he was beating the brakes off me. Freedom was right in front of me yet, here I was close to tears dying to crawl back in bed with him. I shook my head and took a deep breath. Turning away from Rafa, my trembling hand reached forward to grab the door. 

“Just do it Daphne,” I whisper to myself. With another breath I pulled the door open to what used to be our bedroom and walked out.  I’m doing this for me, saving my life. As dramatic as it sounds I have to get out of this relationship before it kills me. 

“Girl, it’s about time you got in this car! I thought I was going to have to come in that bitch swinging,” my half-sister Lexi said. I threw my bags in the backseat before getting in the passenger side and buckling up. (Lexi's cast pic)

“I got stage fright all of sudden. I didn’t think I’d be able to go through with it, actually leaving him. I uprooted my whole life to be with him and here I am back where I started.” I said on the verge of tears. 

Lexi took a deep breath before turning to me, “ Look Daph, I know what it’s like to be so in love with the potential of a man you’re blinded by who he really is. Rafa didn’t give a fuck about you, he proved that when he put his hands on you. Look in the mirror Daph! I love you sis, and I’m going to support you no matter what, but believe me when I say this. You took your life back today.” My eyes blur with tears as I reach across the center console to pull my sister into a hug. 

“Oh stop it before I start crying,” Lexi lets out a watery laugh before letting me go. We release our embrace and Lexi starts her SUV up, and we drive away. I don’t glance back, ready to leave this life behind me.

2 Hours Later…

“Welcome to your new home!” Lexi sings as we pull up to her apartment complex. I chuckle as we grab my things and head up to her place. 

“The second bedroom has a bathroom right across the hall. I cleaned both of them out so you can make room for all your things. I got you a key fob from the front desk and I already added your name on the lease, but don’t worry about the rent,” Lexi says as she shows me around her spacious luxury apartment. 

I spin, crushing my sister in a bear hug, “I can’t thank you enough for this Lex, I’ll start looking for a job first thing tomorrow. I have enough money saved up to get me through the next few months, so I can help with rent if you need me to.”

Lexi playfully rolls her eyes, “Daphne I love you but please shut up. You’d do this for me in a heartbeat. You’ve always taken care of me, now let me return the favor. Plus I already found you a job.” Lexi and I found each out about each other in middle school and we’ve been inseparable ever since. 

I let out a deep sigh before nodding, “I love you too Lex. Now where’s this so-called job?” I ask, raising a brow. 

Lexi makes her way towards my room, motioning for me to follow her, “You’ll work at the club with me. One of the servers got fired and we’re really short. I put in a good word with my boss Terry, he just wants to meet you first.”

Lexi works at a high end gentlemen's club named ‘Fuse’. When she told me about it I was a bit apprehensive but, beggars can’t be choosers. I figured I can work there, save up for my own place and then go from there.

“Lexi, how am I supposed to meet your boss looking like this? I’ll scare his ass off,” I say motioning to my face. 

“Don’t you think I thought about that? He’s coming here, think of it as an impromptu interview. He’s discreet and won’t ask questions. Sis if you don’t want to do this…,” Lexi trails off. 

I shake my head, “No, No, it’s fine I’m sorry. What time should I be ready?” 

Lexi squeals before jumping into my arms, “I know you’re nervous but Terry’s assured me that we’re working the exact same schedule until you get your footing. If you decide at any time that the club isn’t for you, you can leave.”

I hug my sister back, enduring the sharp pain that comes from my rib cage. the weight of today is finally taking its toll on me, “I think I’m going to freshen up and lay down,” I say, detaching myself from our embrace. Lexi nods before showing me where the towels and things are, and then she leaves me to it. Taking a deep breath I cut the bathroom light on and looked in the mirror.

I gasp out a sob as I take in my features. My bright brown eyes look dull and lifeless, well the one that opens anyway. My lip looks worse than what it is. There’s a slight bruise on my right cheek. The worst is yet to come when I lift my shirt taking a look at my torso. 

“Oh my god,” I sob. I’m a nurse by trade so bruises, cuts, and blood don’t really affect me. But, seeing them on me is doing something crazy to my mind. I deal with cases like this all the time, vowing I’ll never be that woman. And here I am, that woman. I get in the shower on auto pilot. Not enjoying the art of getting clean like I usually do but just trying to get everything done. Once clean I moisturize and make my way into my new room. I don’t know how long I lay there and wait for sleep to take me. 

My alarm startles me awake, I groan and roll over reaching for my phone. Pressing the silence button, I begin to rub my eyes. I groan and roll into a sitting position, my face feeling even more sore than it did yesterday. Making my way to the bathroom, I flip the lights and turn the shower on. My mind reels as it tries to process the last 24 hours. 

Rafa hasn’t tried to contact me, not that he could. I blocked him on everything but, still the silence is alarming. I never told him where Lexi lives, so there’s no way he could know that I’m here. Pushing all thoughts of Rafa out of my mind for now, I start getting ready for my day. After doing my extensive body and skincare routine I threw on a hoodie and leggings. I decided not to cover up my bruises for the moment. Now that it’s the next day everything just looks ugly and swollen anyway. 

After finishing my morning routine I head out to the living room to find Lexi. I can hear her talking quietly to someone, I assume she’s just on the phone. When I round the corner at the end of the hallway I stop in my tracks. There’s a literal adonis manspreading on our sofa. Well over six feet this man is sitting on our sofa looking almost too big for it. God he was fine, I’m in no space to get involved right now but I can appreciate a fine ass man. Hearing my entrance, his eyes shot towards me stopping in my tracks.

“Oh! Daphne you’re awake! Perfect,” Lexi said from somewhere in the kitchen.  Seconds go by and I see her appear with a tray with three cups of coffee on it.

“This is Terry, remember I told you about him yesterday?” Lexi says with a nervous smile on her face. I nod looking back and forth between the two. My gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on Terry. He’s looking up at me with a curious frown on his face like he’s trying to figure me out, and I’m doing the same thing.

I push my shoulders back and walk towards him outstretching my hand, “Hi Terry, I’m Daphne sorry, if I’d known you were here I would have made myself look a little more presentable.”

Terry’s shaking his head before I can finish my sentence, “It’s all good, I was in the area and figured I’d just pop by and meet my new bartender. 

My eyes widen, “Just like that? I’ve got the job? What’s the catch?” 

Terry chuckles before crossing one leg over the other, “Lexi’s right, nothing gets past you. She told me you used to be a flight nurse, so I was hoping you could help me out from time to time.”

My brow furrows, “I’m not going to have to do anything illegal am I?”

Terry takes a deep breath leaning back, his gorgeous eyes assessing me, “We’ll keep that need to know. I won’t knowingly compromise your position or have you do anything that will put your license in jeopardy.”

I go over the details in my head. Could I really do something like this? It was clear to me that Terry was some sort of crime boss. He’s sitting so comfortably in our home like he owns the place (I wouldn’t be surprised if he did). He’s got money but doesn’t want to show it, based on the Rolex and Prada shoes he’s sporting.

“What if I say no?” I say, crossing my arms. 

Terry chuckles and leans forward, “Then I guess you’ll need to go job hunting sweetheart.”

I roll my eyes and look over to Lexi, she mouths ‘say yes’. I contemplate in my mind, I’ve always played it safe until now. I went to nursing school because my mom wanted me to have a “stable income”. I went out with Rafa because he was a “safe” choice yeah, that worked out real nice. I’ve always gone with the safest option, not wanting to disappoint anyone. With recent events plaguing my brain I nod my head. 

“Sure, what the hell. I’ll do what I can within reason,” I say to Terry. 

Terry nods before standing, “Great, I’ll see you both next week, and Daphne all my bartenders wear black. Cover up the bruises but keep the makeup to a minimum.” I nod mindlessly at the things he said.  Standing at his full stature, Terry is muscular, a few tattoos here and there and a face to die for. I was getting starstruck by my damn boss, which cannot happen. He exudes power, commanding each room he walks into, his height and size have nothing to do with it. It’s his aura he just gives off the vibe that he doesn’t take any shit. 

Terry nods to both of us, “Ladies,” he said, and then he was out the door. 

I sigh deeply and lean against the doorway, “Jeez Lexi you didn’t tell me your boss was finer than baby hair.”

Lexi laughs heartily, “Girl, it wouldn’t have mattered. Terry’s like a forcefield, he lets no one in.” I chuckle lightly and roll my eyes, making my way towards the sofa. I plop down and grab the coffee Lexi made. 

“So tell me about the club. What should I expect?” I ask while sipping my coffee.

Lexi settles in next to me, cutting on the TV, “It’s a high end strip club / gentlemen's lounge, so we have lots of politicians, upper level business men, basically anyone who can afford the fifteen hundred dollar membership fee. You and I will work the bar, as long as you show a little cleavage and laugh at their shitty jokes they’ll tip you well and leave you alone for the most part. You don’t have to worry about guys getting handsy, Terry used to be a Marine, so a few of his buddies from back in the day are working security.”

I nod following along, “Does Terry usually show up a lot?” I ask.

“Well, it is his club. So yeah he’s there most of the time in his office. He usually only comes out if there’s a problem,” Lexi said. 

“Hmm,” I reply with a nod. This was definitely going to be an interesting experience.

A WEEK LATER

“Daph! Come on! We’re going to be late!” Lexi yells upstairs. I sighed looking over at myself in the mirror, a simple black activewear jacket and leggings (link). My eye is almost healed, nothing a little concealer can't fix. I’m still favoring my right side because my ribs are still pretty sore.  I spray myself with my sparkling lychee perfume, grab my tote and head downstairs to meet my bratty ass sister. 

“Keep your panties on Lex I’m coming!” I shout as I look for my asics. Once I finally find them I meet Lexi at the door plastering on a fake smile.

“I’m sorry. Are you ready to go now?”,I ask with fake enthusiasm. Lexi just rolls her eyes and opens the door to lead us out. We head to her SUV and make our way to Terry’s club.

“Okay, so what should I expect?” I ask Lexi.

“Well it’s a Thursday night so it won’t be too busy but it’s a good thing you wore those shoes. We’ll be paired together so I’ll make drinks and you’ll take them out. Table one starts to the right of the door, and then they’re numbered clockwise,” Lexi said, adjusting the heat settings in the car. 

“I mean it sounds easy enough. I just haven’t worked in a club since nursing school. I might be a little rusty,” I say, getting self conscious. Lexi reassures me as we begin heading towards downtown. 

TERRY

This can’t be the sister Lexi was talking about, this is going to be a problem. She’s beautiful, fucking astonishing. I can’t even see the bruises, probably makeup which she doesn’t need.  She exudes a softness that has no business being involved with me and my business. I sweep my eyes over her before landing on hers. Lexi told me her piece of dickhead boyfriend beat the shit out of her. She doesn’t look bad, but her limp tells me otherwise. A part of me wants to find the sorry motherfucker and break his knees, but I’m acting too irrational over a woman I just met.

I’ve been watching Lexi show her the ropes from my loft office. She seems to know what she’s doing catching on pretty quickly. I adjust myself for the second time as she bends down to pick up something. 

“Ass fat as fuck,” I mumble watching it sway in her leggings. She drops off a tray of drinks at the police commissioner’s table and I watch as every set of eyes drop to her ass as she turns and walks away. She might be a problem

THE END

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Ok I didn’t want to get too deep in this in case y’all don’t like it. So please please like and comment if you want more. I’m so grateful for you guys I hope you all have a happy holiday season! Stay safe bookies <3

Until next time, 

TEE <3

TAGLIST

@blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @dxddykenn @kianaleani @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrishh @greatpandagladiator @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @megamindsecretlair @theereina @earthchica @megamindsecretlair @mogul93 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @pocketsizedpanther @kumkaniudaku @mymindisneverhere

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

[wonderl3ss]

pairing: adam stanheight x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI. praise, pet names, unprotected, v sweet n vanilla tbh.

a/n: some smut as an apology for being ia for a year n a half lol. requests r open, pls read rules!! apologies if its short n a lil messy im new to writin this stuff. not proof-read

‘i miss you, can you come over?’

adams phone pinged, the message from you lighting up the screen and turning the phone on. it wasn’t unusual for you to message him at the most random times asking for him to come over, it had happened too many times to count.

being friends for so long, you knew each other inside out by this point. you claimed you were only best friends, but everyone could see that there were deeper feelings involved, yet neither of you acted on them. the fear of ruining your friendship was the only thing stopping you.

you had met him one night at a high school party after being introduced to him by a mutual friend. from that moment on there was rarely a day you two spent away from each other. you had truly just started out as good friends, it wasn’t until you both hit your 20s that you realised there was something more.

for the past year or so, you had found yourself thinking about him a lot more often, not just in a more romantic context, but sexually too.

countless nights you had stayed awake with adam being the only thing on your mind; imagining it was his fingers inside of you instead of your own. imagining his lips were travelling all over your body, leaving marks on your most sensitive spots. imagining he was yours, and you were his.

you needed him so bad, in more ways than one. you needed him to hold you, kiss you, touch you, talk to you. not as your friend, but as your lover.

adam didn’t even bother to text back, he instantly got into his car and started driving to yours. admittedly, he had been missing you too, and it wasn’t just you who held those feelings, he felt the exact same way.

he too had spent countless nights with his hand wrapped around his cock, imagining it was your hand instead of his. wishing instead of his hand, he was inside you. filling you up so good, letting you know you’re only his.

neither did he knock on your door when he reached your place; he didn’t need to. you two we’re together so often that anyone would assume you already lived together.

you greeted him by pulling him into a tight hug the second he walked through the door. it startled him ever so slightly as he wasn’t expecting it, but he melted into the hug just as quick. he thought he could sense the faint smell of alcohol on you.

“have you been drinking?” he pulled away to look you in the eyes.

“only a little. i had like, one beer,” you looked back and gestured to the empty bottle on your kitchen counter behind you. “do you want one?”

adam stepped further in, closing the door behind him before answering, “sure, why not.”

you walked over to the refrigerator and took out two beers, one for adam, and another for yourself. turning back around, you handed the bottle to him and spoke, “there’s more in there if you want another after that.”

he only nodded in response before opening the bottle and instantly taking a swig.

-

staring at eachother for no longer than 3 seconds, the alcohol in your system gave you the courage to do something you had wanted for so long. something you had spent many nights dreaming of.

grabbing ahold of both his cheeks, you pulled him closer until both your lips smashed together. the sudden movement caused adam to not kiss back for just a split second, but once he realised what was happening, he wasted no time in returning the gesture.

the feeling in your stomach was a feeling you had been long earning for; those butterflies that seemed to flutter around in your stomach every time you were with him were going crazy in this moment. it’s as if they were also waiting for this.

adams hands now rested on your waist, his touch was warm — hot, even. it made your core feel hot too, as if the butterflies were now burning and being replaced by something else. what that was, you couldn’t focus on enough to figure out. all you could focus on was adams lips on yours.

you finally pulled apart, admittedly not wanting to. adam was the first one to open his eyes, with yours following shortly after. the small smile on your face widened when you began to laugh ever so slightly from the hot feeling on your cheeks and in your stomach.

“care to explain what that was for?” he spoke, his voice sounding angelic, like something you’d never heard before — yet you had, many times. maybe it was the adrenaline and alcohol, but his voice made the heat you felt all over just that little bit hotter.

you shook your head, digging deep in your brain to find the right words. “you just looked so.. i don’t know.. enticing, i couldn’t help myself… maybe the alcohol is partially to blame.” you were completely and utterly smitten with this man.

adam just smirked before pulling you back in for another kiss. this time, he grabbed hold of your hips and pulled you onto him so you were straddling his lap. feeling the slight tent in his jeans made your core tingle.

he obviously wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

feeling adams tongue enter your mouth, entwining with your own, you took this as a chance to grind down on his clothed cock. the small groan this elicited from him caused your core to heat up even more — if that was even possible. you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

as adam broke the kiss, you pouted slightly, already missing his lips. this pout soon disappeared as adam spoke, “are you okay with this?” he wanted to make sure this wasn’t going to be something you’d regret in the morning.

you hummed and nodded in response, you wanted to waste no time in speaking, only wanting him to kiss you again.

“i want to hear you say it,” he looked you in the eyes, his fingers playing with the hem of your t-shirt.

there was something about the way he said it that made a switch in you flip; wanting this more than ever now.

“yes, adam. please.” you didn’t mean for it to sound like you were begging, but deep down you really were. begging for him to just touch you already; begging to feel him inside you.

satisfied with your answer, he began to lift your t-shirt over your head. you lifted your arms to make it easier for him to pull it up and off. you did the same with his t-shirt too before throwing them both on the floor, not bothering to look where.

“god, you’re so beautiful.” adam breathed out, taking in every inch of your topless body. of course, he had seen you in bikinis and whatnot before, but this was different. this time it was intimate.

you subconsciously tried to wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to cover up, feeling embarrassed at the sudden compliment. adam didn’t let you though. he gently grabbed your wrists and placed your arms down by your sides.

attempting to take the attention off yourself, you kissed him again while reaching down to undo his belt, ushering him to take his jeans off.

you lifted yourself off his lap ever so slightly to allow him room to take them off, freeing his cock from the suffocating fabric, now only hiding behind one barrier — his underwear.

he then helped you in unbuttoning and pulling off your own jeans, leaving you both in your underwear. the thin fabric was doing nothing in hiding the obvious wetness he had caused to pool in your panties.

you sat back down on his lap, the head of his cock lightly rubbing against your clit, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the sensation that ran through you.

“adam… please, i need you,” you begged, afraid you would explode if you waited any longer. you had never needed someone as bad as you need adam right now, and honestly, it was painful.

“oh, really?” adam obliged, taking his middle finger and pressing it against your clit, teasing you just a little longer — he enjoyed hearing you beg, enjoyed knowing it was him, and only him, that was making you so so needy.

the slight, quiet moan that you let out at his touch only made him more eager. he began to make circular motions on your clit, adding a little more pressure. you let out another moan and rested your head in the space between his shoulder and neck; all the teasing and longing for this moment, had made you so incredibly sensitive.

you wanted him inside you, now. no, you needed him inside you.

you decided to take initiative by removing his finger and gesturing to his boxers, hoping he'd get the hint that you wanted him to remove them. thankfully, he understood. after he had removed his underwear, he helped you in removing your own, now leaving the both of you completely naked.

you rested your hands on his shoulders, and his on your hips as he lined himself up with your entrance, your slick and his few drops of precum mixing together.

"fuck." he groaned out as he finally pushed into you, the words were spoken so lowly you could feel the vibrations from his throat travel toward where your hands rested on his shoulders.

his fingers pressed harder into your hips as he began to take control and slowly guide you further down his cock before lifting you up once again, allowing you to adjust to his size and find a pace you were comfortable with.

"you okay?" he asked, making eye contact with you. his eyes were glossed over, lids heavy and ever so slightly closed.

"yeah," you breathed out, biting your lip.

"you're doing so good." he felt you tighten around him as these words of praise fell from his lips. he smirked to himself before pulling you into another kiss.

the room was then filled with nothing but the vulgar sounds of quiet squelching and skin slapping against skin as you bounced on his cock, both of your juices mixing together. his hands moved to cup your ass, helping to take some strain off your thighs and make it easier for you.

his lips travelled to your neck, kissing and sucking on the spot right by your jugular, marking you as his, because after this there was no way he was going to let you get away.

it was as if he knew this was a sensitive spot of yours, because the feeling of his lips and the wetness of his tongue pressing against your neck caused you to let out a whine and tighten around him once more.

once he finally felt satisfied there was going to be a mark there, he pulled away, his mouth making a pop sound and leaving a string of saliva behind.

his middle finger then returned to your clit, rubbing circles on it to push you closer to your climax, because he knew there was no way he was going to last much longer, not with the way you feel around him. so warm, so wet, so tight, you fit around him so perfectly. it was as if you had both been crafted so precisely to fit together like two puzzle pieces. you were perfect.

"adam... fuck. im so close," you managed to speak out, feeling that familiar sensation building up in your core.

"cum for me, baby. you're doing so good, c'mon." the pet name was just the cherry on top of all the praise. you sloppily kissed him as you felt the high of your orgasm wash over you.

adam wasn't far behind you, pulling out just in time to let his cum spill out onto your stomach and around his own thighs as you rested your head on his shoulder to catch your breath.

he sat you next to him before standing up and walking into your bathroom to grab a towel, and run a bath for the both of you to relax and clean yourselves off.

he returned back into the living room and you noticed he had already wiped himself off in the bathroom. he walked over to you and cleaned you up with said towel. when he was satisfied he had wiped most of it up, he kissed your forehead and dragged you into the bathroom to pop you into the tub.

he sat you in between his legs, softly kissing your neck as you closed your eyes, revelling in the warmth of the water and fondness you held toward the man behind you. you let out a sigh of contentment before speaking up, "adam?"

"yes, baby?" he replied, the petname causing you to let out a little giggle, those nervous butterflies returning once again.

"what are... we now?" you asked, turning around to face him, hoping he'd reply with what you had been waiting years to hear.

"i think we both know what we are," one more kiss to your forehead, "i ain't lettin' you go anywhere after that,"

you let out another sigh, one of relief this time, "god, i love you," you returned the kiss, on his lips this time before turning back around and laying against adam, him sliding his hands around your waist.

"i know, baby. i love you, too."

"i like when you call me that."

[inthe-dark-tonight]

Falling into My Sins

chapter two: behind your father’s home

dbf!joel x fem!reader series - loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

chapter 1 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7

summary: you make plans with your mystery man from the bar the night before, only to end up having to cancel when your dad tells you he invited his best friend and his family over for sunday night dinner. when they show up, you’re shocked to find that you and your dad's best friend have already met once before. a moment alone after dinner ends in a way you never would've imagined.

word count: 3.8k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) alcohol consumption, light swearing, smut, unsafe p in v, dirty talk, pet names, no use of y/n, after this one joel is going to be an ass so…. enjoy it while it lasts. i think that’s it let me know if I missed anything pls!

notes: okay part two is here!! it’s going to get a bit angsty after this, but i’m so excited to share this chapter <3

thank you again to my bestie @shatteredbaby for proofreading, ilysm babe 🤍

The next morning you’re surprisingly not hungover from last night’s events. You roll over to grab your phone and check the time, then you see a text from an unknown number on your screen.

I’d love to take you out tonight, if you’re willing. Let me know if you’re free. -The Contractor

You smile and let out a content sigh as you think of a reply.

Sure, maybe you can tell me your name then, mystery man ;)

It’s nearly noon when you put your phone back down on the nightstand and leap out of bed. You sprint down the stairs and walk into the kitchen to see your dad sitting at the counter, drinking coffee and reading something on his phone. You walk past him headed straight for the coffee pot.

“Morning, heard you come in last night. Was expecting you to be out later.” It comes out more as a question as he looks away from his phone and up at you.

“Oh yeah, Dee drank too much so we left pretty early.” You turn around towards him and lean back on the counter as you sip your coffee.

He puts his phone down and leans back in his chair. “Well we’re having guests later, I forgot to tell you.” He clears his throat. “My buddy Joel is coming for dinner. He’s bringing his brother and his daughter too so you can finally meet them all.”

Your dad met Joel during your second year of college around the time your parents split up. You don’t know much about Joel, your dad only bringing him up from time to time, and you didn’t visit home often after going away for school so you haven’t gotten the chance to meet him before now. Since you rented an apartment with friends and also had a job in the city, you usually just stayed there over the summer. Guess you won’t be seeing your mystery man later.

“Oh,” you try not to sound upset that you’re going to have to cancel your plans later. “Yeah, I guess it’s about time I meet them.” You force a small smile.

He looks pleased by your response. “You’ll help me prep later? They’re coming around 5 since his daughter Sarah has school in the morning.”

“Yeah, of course.” Your dad offers you a small smile then returns to reading on his phone.

You walk back towards your room to get yourself together, taking your coffee with you. Once you’ve closed your door and splayed out on your bed again, you pull out your phone to type another message.

Something came up, we’ll have to reschedule. Sorry :(

You pout a bit as you hit send. A few seconds later you get a reply, heart racing as you open it.

No problem sweetheart, forgot I had something going on later anyway. We can plan for another time.

You stare at the message for a few moments, hoping he’ll actually keep his word.

You tidy up your room and throw on something casual, a few minutes later hearing your dad moving around downstairs, before calling up to you.

“I’m leaving! Going to get some things for later tonight, be back in 20!”

“Okay! I’ll be here when you get back!” You call back to him.

You hear him shut the door as you lay back on your bed. Memories from the night before of your mystery man, the contractor, start playing through your head. Thinking about the way his large hands grabbed at your waist while he was kissing you sends a shiver through your body. You’re guessing he’s quite a bit older than you, considering the bit of gray in his hair and scruff. You’d never entertained the thought of seeing someone older than you, but this man was quite literally gorgeous. His side profile, the slope of his nose and his sharp jaw kept your eyes glued to him practically all night. You decide to whip out your phone and text him again.

Does Tuesday work? I don’t wanna wait much longer than that, Mystery Man.

You bite your cheek as you nervously wait for his reply.

“Perfect, wouldn’t want to keep you waiting, Killer.”

You smile at the nickname, then quickly type out a reply.

Good to know ;)

“How’s 8 sound? I’ll pick the spot.”

You hear your garage door opening and peek out your bedroom window to see your dad pulling in.

Can’t wait, gtg… don’t forget about me.

“Impossible.”

Your cheeks heat a bit at his last message. It would also be impossible for you to forget about him. You run down the stairs to help your dad unpack the things for tonight and start prepping.

It’s about 5:30 when your dad sends you out to the back porch to set up the table with plates and utensils, seeing to it that everything’s in order by the time your guests arrive. You’re still pretty bummed about canceling your plans tonight, but you can’t help but think about what could be in store for Tuesday. You’re busy finishing the set up when you hear some commotion inside, your back is to the door when you hear it slide open.

“Honey! I want you to meet my buddy Joel, his daughter Sarah and his brother Tommy. They live a few houses down.” Your dad sounds ecstatic.

You turn around quickly, smile plastered on your face, and then you’re frozen in place as your eyes meet with his.

Fuck.

Your heart drops, there’s a lump in your throat and it feels like someone’s squeezing your chest. You open your mouth like you’re going to speak but nothing comes out.

Your mystery man from the night before, the attractive older contractor that you were all over last night, is your dad’s best friend.

Joel steps through the glass door to the back deck, following your dad. Your back is facing him and as soon as you turn around, his eyes practically pop out of his head. It’s you. The beautiful girl he was with last night who’s going to be the death of him. He knows it now for certain. He can tell you’re just as shocked as he is by the way you’re standing there, perfect lips parted like you’re unsure of what to say. It feels like time has slowed down and he needs to get it together. He swallows back the lump in his throat and wipes his palms on his jeans.

“Uh, nice to finally meet you.” Joel reaches his hand out to shake yours.

He watches you closely as you pause for a moment staring at his hand, then slowly reach yours out to meet his. The touch of your soft hand immediately sends a shock of electricity through him.

“Hi,” you introduce yourself and your name leaves your lips, voice sounding so soft and sweet.

He feels weak in his knees finally hearing your name. Joel’s eyes are glued to you as you wave to Sarah and Tommy, introducing yourself again.

He’s so fucked.

Your dad is completely oblivious of the tension between you two, which is for the better. “Well c’mon, let's sit and eat.” he smiles and pulls out his chair.

You sit next to your dad who’s at the head of the table, across from Joel, and Sarah to your right. You won’t even look him in the eyes, which may be for the better, he thinks. He still can’t take his eyes away from you for more than a second.

“Mitch, you didn’t have to do all this.” Tommy says to your dad.

Joel watches you closely as you look over at Tommy.

“Oh it’s no big deal, this one helped me out,” your dad points to you with his thumb and you turn to him with a smile. “Anyway, it’s about time we have a proper dinner with all of us together.”

Your eyes flick to Joel’s for a second then back to your plate.

“So, where was it you were going to school again?” Tommy asks you.

“The Art Institute of Chicago.” You smile softly at Tommy.

“Oh, Art major?”

“Well,” You tilt your head side to side contemplating. “I studied Architecture.”

“Wow” he sounds surprised.

Joel is just as surprised. You didn’t mention any of this last night, but he also didn’t ask. He never even got your name, it was exciting in the moment how fast things were going. He never would’ve even imagined this would happen. What were the odds, his best friend’s daughter.

“So Sarah, you started senior year last week, right?” Your dad asks her.

“Yeah, already can’t wait to get it over with.” She rolls her eyes and smiles.

You turn towards her, “Have you thought about where you’ll apply for college yet?” You ask her.

“Probably UT and a few other schools in state, maybe some others, we’ll see.” Sarah smiles at you.

Joel decides he’s ready to speak, still a little shaken up. “So uh,” you freeze and look at him with wide eyes. “How come ya never visited home while gone at school?”

“I had a job up there, well, more like an internship,” you clear your throat. “I was also leasing an apartment so it was easier for me to stay during the summer, I sometimes would come visit for a weekend.” You’re looking down at your lap now.

“You found a job since coming back?” Tommy cuts in.

“No, applied for a few but nothing yet.”

Your dad rests his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “You’ll hear back from one soon bud, don’t worry.” You nod your head.

The rest of the meal is filled with chatter all over. Joel notices you’re avoiding him and that your conversation with Tommy is much more recurrent than with him - he’s growing bothered by it.

Once you’re all done eating, everyone goes inside for a beer, except for Sarah. You continue avoiding Joel, not even glancing towards him once you’re inside. While he talks with your dad and Tommy in the kitchen, you sit in the living room chatting with Sarah. He tries his best not to stare at you the whole night but he’s finding it hard.

Around 8 everyone finishes their first round, and shortly after, Sarah tells everyone she’s leaving because of school in the morning.

“See you later Sar, be safe walking.” Joel hugs her and kisses her head.

“Dad,” she whines. “It’s basically across the street.”

Joel laughs and squeezes her shoulder.

“Bye Sarah, it was nice finally meeting you” you’re smiling at her.

“You too.” She gives you a small hug and then is waving bye before walking out the front door.

“Text me when you’re home!” Joel calls out to her before the door closes.

Your dad grabs another round of beers from the fridge and hands them out. Joel needs it at this point, he needs to loosen up. He feels like he’s been tiptoeing around everything for the past few hours.

“Hey bud, do you mind cleaning up out back?” Your father asks you.

“Yeah, no problem.” You take a sip of your beer and set it on the counter before going out the back door.

“I’ll see if she needs some help, it’s the least I can do.” The truth is, Joel’s dying to talk to you, alone.

“I’m sure she’d appreciate that.” Joel smiles at your dad before walking towards the door.

Joel steps out onto the patio and sees you struggling to put down the umbrella in the center of the table. He slides the door shut and moves behind you, resting his hand on your lower back, reaching past you.

“Here, let me help you.” His voice is deep and it slightly startles you.

You turn towards him with wide eyes, then step back to let him help. He can feel your eyes on him.

“Thank you.” You whisper before clearing your throat. “I have to put it in the shed.” You gesture towards the side of the house.

He lifts it nonchalantly. “I’ll carry it for you.” He turns around and your eyes scan his form.

You don’t say a word before turning to walk towards the shed. He takes that as the cue to follow you. You still haven’t said a word to him and he’s itching to know what’s going through your mind. Are you thinking about last night as much as he is? It was killing him to sit across from you at dinner and not get more than a few glances from you.

When you get to the shed, you turn around to grab the umbrella from him, hands brushing his slightly before turning back to open the door. The look that was on your face tells him that you’re thinking about something and he can only imagine what. When you’re done, you close the door to the shed and turn back to him, standing there for a moment. Joel looks at you, lips slightly parted like he’s going to say something, but he decides not to.

“Thanks.” Your eyes flicker up to his before walking right past him.

The two of you start walking towards the house, Joel following behind you. You’re about to turn the corner back to the deck when you stop in your tracks. Joel freezes as you turn around to face him, a worried look plastered on your face.

The sun has set below the sky now, a bluish glow cast on everything in sight. The way your cardigan has slipped down exposing your shoulder has been driving him mad and it’s taking everything in him to not reach out and touch your soft skin. He just watches you for a moment waiting for you to say something, anything.

You take a deep breath. “Listen I-“ it comes out a little shaky. “I know this is probably really weird and, trust me, this is the last thing I was expecting.” It all comes spilling out so fast. “My dad’s best friend, it’s a little fucked up. So if you want to forget last night ever happened, I understand-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, pushing you up against the side of the house and pining you there. He’s been dying to touch you since dinner, and you thought he would be able to resist you? You have no idea. One of his hands rests on the side of your face while the other practically claws at your waist. He finally breaks the kiss, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath.

“I don’t, trust me, I don’t.” Part of him knows this is wrong but he can’t stop himself.

You’re staring at him with wide eyes, “Me neither.” you crash your lips into his again, balled up fist grabbing at his shirt.

He presses his growing length into you and lets out a deep groan, trailing kisses down your jaw, your neck, to your exposed shoulder.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what’s been playing through my head since last night. I want you.” He lets out a sharp breath as he nips at your shoulder and looks into your eyes again. “The things I’ve been thinking about doing to you since then…” he trails off.

Your hands fall to the hem of his shirt, gently bunching it up and laying your palms on his warm skin. He shutters and sucks in a breath.

“Well what’s stopping you, Joel?” You’re staring up at him, lips parted. He can’t read your expression.

Finally hearing his name on your lips breaks what little control he had left. He looks down at your lips, and then something inside him snaps.

Suddenly, he’s spinning you around and pressing you up against the side of your dad’s house. He has his hands around your wrists and he’s holding them up beside your head on the wall. You let out a gasp.

He’s pressed up against you, hardened cock digging into your back. “This what you wanted, sweetheart?” It comes out through gritted teeth. “Last night in the alley, this what you were lookin’ for me to do?”

You let out a loud moan “Yes Joel, please,” and his hand muffles your whimpering.

“Gotta be quiet f’me, don’t want your dad comin’ out here,” his mouth is up against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Seein’ you begging for me.”

You nod consentingly, his hand still over your mouth, face pressed up against the side of the house digging into the brick. His other hand leaves your wrist.

“Be good and keep your hands there.” He moves his free hand down to the top of your shorts, swiftly unbuttoning them and shoving them down along with your underwear.

He grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, letting out a low hum. “Mmmm,”

Then his hand slides to your front, slowly making its way to your core. He swipes his middle finger through your folds and you close your eyes, letting out a small sigh.

“So fuckin’ wet for me already.” Your hips jolt forward slightly, warmth growing in your lower belly as he swirls his finger around your bud. “You really are gonna be the death of me.” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

His hand leaves your aching center and you hear him unbuckle his belt, then the zipper of his jeans and the sound of them sliding down his thighs. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, and a moment later you feel him slide his cock between your dripping folds. You lift your hips back towards him with anticipation, giving him better access. He feels massive as he’s thrusting his cock through your wet folds.

Then without warning he’s placing the tip of his cock at your entrance. He presses in slowly, making sure to give you time to adjust to his side.

“So tight,” he sounds like he was holding his breath.

He’s still pressing into you agonizingly slowly. Your eyes flutter shut as he places a soft kiss on your temple.

”Doing so good,” he praises you. “Can you be quiet for me?” You nod and he removes his hand from your mouth.

You bite your lip trying to keep quiet as he bottoms out. He pulls almost completely out, just the tip inside of you before slowly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as his fingers dig in so hard you know they’ll leave bruises. He starts to quicken his pace, taking one hand off your hips to grab your face and turn your head to face him. His body twists so his lips can meet yours in a needy kiss. The hand still on your hip moves to wrap around you and hold you against him as he pounds into you. Your back is flush against his chest as he continues with his pace. Skin against skin, the only sound as his pace continues to quicken.

He breaks the kiss and looks down at you, hunger in his eyes as he takes you in. “Joel, oh my god.” You whisper.

He looks like he’s completely in a trance, grunting with each thrust. He’s pounding into you so hard that your body is pressing into the wall more with every thrust.

“Was thinkin-” he pauses to grunt as he thrusts into you. “‘bout this,” he thrusts again “all night.” He kisses down the side of your neck, nipping at the soft skin of your shoulder.

“Joel,” it comes out breathless. “Couldn’t even look at you during dinner,” your head falls back against his shoulder and he nestles his face into your neck. “Knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it together.”

You feel his cock twitch inside of you at your words, then he’s setting a ruthless pace. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he practically growls into your skin.

The pressure in your core is building by the second, about to snap. “Close,” it’s all you can get out.

He doesn’t say anything, keeping a steady pace. You can hear his heavy breaths behind you, then it’s hitting you. White hot pleasure coursing through your body. You remove your hands from the wall and grab onto his forearm that’s pressed against your stomach. Your head falls back onto his shoulder and your other hand reaches back to grab at his hair. He’s huffing through gritted teeth with every thrust, nose pressed against your cheek.

He lets out another deep groan then stops abruptly to pull out, pushing you into the wall again as he releases himself into the grass. You turn around and look down at his hand wrapped around his cock, his other hand next to your head on the brick wall.

“Joel,” you breath out, then reach to pull up your shorts as you catch your breath.

He looks at you and there’s an expression on his face that you don’t recognize. He pulls his jeans up and tucks his softening length away, then glances up at you while trying to catch his breath. He pauses for a moment looking you up and down, then he’s walking away without a word.

You just stand there, mouth open in shock trying to wrap your head around what happened. It all happened so fast. Your dad’s probably looking for you so you try to make yourself presentable as you walk up the porch steps and go inside. When you close the door behind you, you can hear your dad in the other room.

“Bye!” The front door shuts behind him.

You stand at the back door quietly until your dad comes back into the room.

“Hey bud, thanks for cleaning up, they just left.” He smiles at you.

He left already. “Oh, no problem.” You try not to sound confused.

“Did you get a bug bite?” Your dad tilts his head to the side and points at your collarbone.

Your hand flies up to cover it. “Um, guess so.” You say quietly, moving past him quickly to go to your room.

As you make your way up the stairs your mind is racing. Why did Joel leave so fast without saying a word? When you get to your room, you look in the mirror to check your neck and there’s a small mark where Joel was nipping at you. You lightly run your hand over it and let out a sigh, then you flop down on your bed, laying on your stomach. You grab your phone, opening your text thread with him. You change his contact name from mystery man to Joel, smiling as you do so.

can’t wait to see you again on tuesday

You bite at your lip waiting for his reply, heart racing as you think about what he might say. At some point you end up drifting off to sleep.

thank you for reading!! <3 my asks are open to chat :)

tag list and some moots: @ilovepedro @isitmeulookin4 @joelsversion @nostalxgic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jenispunk @beskarandblasters @javiscigarette @mellymbee @kaybee181520 @joeldjarin @akah565 @laurifern @chefchy4 @untamedheart81 @loveisacowboyyy @eliza-8 @fellinfromthetop @sofiparallel @znerac @zfr99

[pjisskullourful]

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part 23 of ??? [parts 1-22]

NSFW🔥 for sluts only, nasty, kinky fuckery

° Damiano David/female reader insert  

wordcount::::  7,914 ° request ×3, anon& @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic wanted a bratty kitty getting punished, another anon wanted:  lots of aftercare and cuddles and cuteness 💋 thankyou for awesome/inspiring requests [requests are open! but commissions get priority, secure the 7th spot in my cue here!]

You removed your high heeled shoes during the elevator ride up to your floor - unable to stand their punishment for another second. Your night out with Max had lasted much longer than you had anticipated and the fatigue you were starting to feel was inevitable. You were more than ready to peel off your false eyelashes and stop feeling the pressure from the underwire of your bra.

It had been Max’s idea for the two of you to go out, because a gay club that she loved was closing down. This was being marked with a drag show, a huge amount of local performers coming out for their last time on this stage.

Prior to the show starting, you had taken a break from dancing with Max (and some new friends you were making) to message Damiano. He was currently home in Italy and you wanted to let him know not to wait up for you to come home, you were in party mode, you intended to have a damn good time.

Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. He had responded. I’ll just keep it to myself that I miss you.

Aw. I miss you too Daddy. You had enough time to send this message before you were grabbed by Max, taken to do some bright-coloured shots, with names that had gotten increasingly funnier as the night had gone on.

Then the show had begun - the music blasting as different acts took to the stage in varying styles. One drag queen performed Björk, another had six outfit reveals during the course of a single song. A Pokémon-themed number had made you lose your shit. There were drag kings in the mix. Some performers knew their lyrics better than others. You lost count of all of the times you saw someone do the splits.

With regular intervals, Max had made sure you had a glass of wine in hand for most of the night. During one of these times that she was gone at the bar, some of the friendly people you had met struck up a conversation, wanting to know how much of the show you planned to watch. When you had said that you weren’t sure (you and Max were just taking the night as it came), there was a scramble from all of them jumping in to give recommendations of which acts you had to see. They had given you close to the same line - ‘you can’t leave without seeing…’, each completing this statement with a different performer's name. You had agreed with all of their enthusiastic suggestions, ready to keep the night going.

Not long after that, you had received a new message from Damiano. I think I’m gonna go to bed, he had told you. You had exchanged ‘I love you’s and wished him sweet dreams. You checked the time before slipping your phone back into your handbag - 1AM.

About an hour later, another message came in: isn’t it past your bedtime? You hadn’t hesitated with your response: since when do I have a bedtime? He had soon sent something back: silly kitten, you don’t make or control the rules.

Before you could begin to work on your reply, Max had leaned in, getting your attention. “Should we head off soon?”

One of your new companions had heard this over the music and they jumped in to answer for you. “You can’t go yet. You’ve gotta see Glue.”

“Glue?” Max repeated, her brow in a deep crease.

They had elaborated, talking about how Glue was an amazing and unique drag queen. As you listened, you had returned your phone to the darkness of your bag. You made the decision to leave Damiano on read. It wasn’t polite, but you hadn’t felt bad about doing it. He was very keen on having you home with him, but if you made him wait, you could make him want you even more, getting you a more exciting reaction to your return.

Thinking about him calling you a brat due to this behaviour didn’t intimidate you or make you feel like you should change your tactic. If you were being a brat, it was because you could.

You had become thoroughly distracted when the show had started up again.

It had turned out that Glue was worth sticking around to watch. In a sparkly robe, with skull makeup painted on, she had been channelling a witch. There had been a lot of props on stage as she spent the duration of the heavy metal song theatrically concocting a potion, along with lip-syncing each lyric. The audience was brought into the act as she dusted her glittery potion upon spectators, as well as throwing toy frogs into the crowd.

But once she was finished, you hadn’t felt the motivation to head in the direction of the exit. You were still having a good time with Max and with no work responsibilities on the books for tomorrow, you wanted to keep soaking up this wonderful atmosphere.

“We’ll stay for one more song.” She had said to you.

At the end of the next performance, you had said the same thing to her. And it became a trend, the two of you sharing the phrase back-and-forth without showing any real interest in leaving the club.

It wasn’t until almost four o’clock that you followed through, both of you agreeing it felt like the right time to call it a night. Your ears were ringing when you had emerged onto the street, laughing at something she had said.

Then you parted, getting into different Ubers, with the promise to message one another once you were safely at home.

Sitting in the back of the car, you had opened your text conversation with Damiano again. When you hadn’t responded to the last message, he had sent a passive aggressive question mark. You didn’t acknowledge this, typing as if you were oblivious to the fact that you would be in trouble when you got home.

On the way home.

You hadn’t been surprised when his response came to you quickly, of course he hadn’t gone to sleep. You wondered if he had spent all of that time stewing while you had been dancing, cheering and laughing.

So you remembered how to get back here?

Some ways to respond had quickly come to mind as you looked at the screen of your phone. But you didn’t type out any words, you didn’t send him a single letter.

You had smiled to yourself, trying to guess at how many more spanks you had earned. Ignoring him would surely add more strikes to your overall punishment. Or maybe he wouldn’t get physical at all. You had considered this might be the time when he brought back writing lines, it felt like it had been a long time since he had taught you a lesson that way.

You unlocked the door to your home, certain that you still smelled like the club as you stepped inside. You had plans of fetching yourself a glass of water from the kitchen before seeking him out to face your consequences.

Immediately this was derailed. Because from your spot at the doorway, you could see straight into the lounge room, seeing that it was currently occupied. He was seated in the armchair, turning to look as you entered. Was he pleased to see you, relieved that you had made it home safely? You couldn’t tell, the only fitting word to describe his look was icy. He was already in character and it was time for you to catch up, to figure out how you were going to play it from here.

“Hey Daddy.” You greeted, approaching him.

“Hey yourself.” He said. He appeared mostly calm and collected, all of his simmering happening just beneath the surface. It was also the exact opposite of the energy that you had been surrounded by for so many hours.

“I thought you would be in bed.” You said. You stepped in front of the chair, it was close enough that you could have touched him, pushing his hair back from his face if you wanted to. But it felt like it would be incorrect for you to initiate the first touch.

“I couldn’t go to sleep while I’ve got something that needs to be dealt with.” He told you.

“Me?” 

“That’s right.” He said. “So you think that you can get away with ignoring me? No, you silly kitty, it definitely doesn’t work like that. Go and get your ass on the bed.”

You didn’t wait, at once following along with what he said. You quickly walked out of the living room, you weren’t drunk enough to stumble any of your steps. But you had had enough to drink that you were already feeling warm and giddy.

You dropped your shoes by the door and placed your handbag on the chair that faced your vanity table. You didn’t take any of your clothes off because you hadn’t been instructed to do so. You sat down on the unmade bed, facing the doorway.

He was soon coming in to join you. He walked in to stand at the foot of the bed, instantly enforcing his authority by looming over you. You looked up at him, feeling the titillating intimidation now.

He lifted his hand to your hairline, beginning to stroke his fingers through your hair, brushing nicely against your scalp. It was soothing and if not for the stony look on his face, you might have reacted with a smile.

“I hope your night out was worth it.” He said. “Honestly, I hope you had lots of fun, because from here on out, it’s gonna be…” His hand curled into a fist around your hair, tugging hard enough to sting as your head was forced further back. “...rough.” You clearly saw the fire in his eyes when he leaned down, his face inches from yours. “What’s your safe word?”

“Pumpkin.” You supplied instantly.

“Good girl. Don’t get too used to hearing that tonight.”

Your hunger was brought to the surface, allowed to be acted upon when his lips crashed against yours. His hand released your hair, moving to hold the back of your head as he sought a deeper kiss. Your hands went to his bare biceps, gripping onto him while his tongue was gliding into your mouth.

He pushed his body weight into you, resulting in you moving backwards until your back landed on the mattress. Without hesitation, and without breaking the kiss, he climbed on top of you. He massaged your tongue with his and you could feel how short of breath you were getting.

His arm reached around you, his hand going to the centre of your back. His fingers explored, refusing to settle in one spot. He ran his hand up-and-down your spine, his fingers grabbing at the material of your dress.

“Where’s the fuckin’ zipper on this?” He asked.

You took your hands off of him. “It’s on the side, here.” You found the tab and started to pull it down, loosening the dress.

“Oh.” He recovered from this fumble, getting the zipper the rest of the way down so that he could get the velvet dress off of you. He tugged it off of your hips and then you pulled your legs free. The next thing to go were your fishnet stockings. He made quick work of removing your bra and underwear. Now, in his cotton shorts, he had the most clothes on. You knew better than to try to get these off of him at the moment - you weren’t about to rebel against the dynamic he was establishing, you had done enough rebelling for one night.

He resumed his position on top of you, his forehead resting against yours as he came in close enough for a kiss. But this didn’t come. His eyes were fixed on yours while his hands explored your nakedness. It felt like your skin scorched in response to his touch, matched by the smoulder in his look.

“I’m gonna give you something that you absolutely cannot ignore. That’s how I’m gonna correct my kitten’s behaviour.” He told you.

You nodded as you licked your lips. But he continued to pass up the opportunity to kiss you, this time he moved off of you. He instructed you to go to the head of the bed, to lie as you typically would while he left the bed.

You watched him go over to the wardrobe, opening the door and looking to the spot where the box full of sex toys sat. The item that he wanted was seemingly at the very top, because mere seconds after looking inside, he was approaching the bed with a bundle of speciality rope. You saw the beginnings of a smile on his face, showing you how much he wanted to get started on this punishment - you doubted there was a single other thought currently occupying his mind. You felt like the centre of his world.

“Hands up to the headboard.” He said, he was unwinding the length of black rope as he got closer.

You lifted your arms up above your head, lining your wrists up with one of the metal rungs of the headboard. You could see the boner developing inside of his shorts as he kneeled on the bed next to you, spotting this was just another drop to add to the hot pool of desire between your legs.

He fed one end of the rope around the rung, the approximate middle of the rope’s length rested against the metal bar. With each half of the rope, he created loops around both of your wrists. His hands were soft, as was the rope as he worked. He brought your bound wrists together, securing them in position with a couple of knots.

“How is that, it’s not too tight?” He asked, checking the look on your face.

“It’s good, Daddy.” You said.

Satisfied with his work, he moved onto the next step of his plan for punishment - this took him back to the toy box. With no time wasted searching or digging through the other objects, he plucked out the vibrating wand he had gifted to you so long ago. He carried it over to the bed, where he sat down facing you. You squirmed in your anticipation, unable to prepare yourself when you weren’t sure what he was going to do next. There was a pause before he turned the vibrator on, during which your mind raced, trying to fill in some of these blanks.

He pressed the power button and selected the speed he wanted (it sounded fast). Your legs had already been lying apart, but he grabbed your ankle with his available hand and moved it, creating a larger gap between your thighs. Then his hand went to your cunt and he used two fingers to push your labia majora back. You felt a shiver when your moist clitoris was exposed to the cool air.

He didn’t give you any kind of warm-up, just putting the toy’s vibrating head to your clitoris and all thoughts were ejected from your mind. Your heart launched into your throat as surprise flooded you. You were weak in response to the power of the toy, so many sensitivities were sparked to life in the same instant, it was too much for you to keep track of. Your jaw went slack as you struggled to adjust to the intensity.

“I have a question for you, babygirl.” He said. You forced your eyes open, looking at him through your daze as you tried to catch your breath. “How do good girls come?”

It was hard to think and it felt like your nerves were on fire. The words didn’t come immediately and you just stared at him, probably looking stupid right now. “Um, with their master?”

“No. Try again.”

You weren’t confident that you had the answer he was looking for. “Loudly?”

He sighed. “No again. You get one more guess.”

“Am I in trouble if I’m wrong?” You asked.

“No, this really doesn’t affect your punishment.”

“Good girls come, um…” Your eyes went up to the ceiling, as if the answer was written somewhere there. “Good girls come when they’re told to?”

“Yes.” He said, easing the vibrator off of you. “You’re right, they get given permission to come. And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do, because you wanna be a good girl, don’t you?” You copied him and nodded your head. “So no matter how much fun you’re having, no matter how amazing Daddy is making you feel- you won’t come until you’ve got permission.”

“Uh-huh.” You said. “I would say that we could pinky swear on it, but that’s not the easiest thing for me to offer right now.”

“That’s okay, I can just take your word on it.” He said and you saw the movement as he started to bring the toy towards your cunt again. “Your wrong guesses didn’t affect your punishment, but coming without permission will definitely get you into more trouble. You understand?”

After you had nodded, he returned the vibrating wand to your clit, filling you with all of that intensity all at once. As everything inside of you swelled, you tried to maintain what remained of your composure so that you could consider what he had just said, what you had agreed to. He was hinting at another level of punishment, which meant that he had thought of doing more than just overstimulating your clitoral hood. He wanted to do more than use your wand against you.

But could you handle that? If you went to that next level, would you rise to the occasion, or would you fold pathetically? You couldn’t be certain, leading the intimidation to beating your curiosity, especially given how rattled you already were by the toy.

You squeezed your eyes shut when he began to wiggle the handle of the wand, prompting the head to rub against you so that you were feeling the intensity from all angles. He was making sure the head was reaching every inch of this area, bringing sensitivities into it all. This made your body twitch involuntarily a couple of times as you felt yourself on that invisible incline. You tilted your pelvis, taking the stimulations in deeper.

He moved the toy off of you and you let out a shaky sigh. But you weren’t without the vibrations for long. Before you had time to open your eyes, he was training the head of the wand to the area just beneath your navel. You couldn’t help squirming, unable to calm yourself down while you were feeling the vibrations down to your knees.

You steadily blinked your eyes open and found him carefully observing you. He was watching your building reactions with all of the interest that he would give a well-crafted TV show. He was keenly aware of what he was doing to you, and what he would need to do to get you to the state he desired.

“Can I say sorry?” You asked.

You had surprised him and the pressure from the vibrator eased off a little. “Because you want me to stop?”

“No.” You quickly said.

“Good.” He said with a smile and he pushed the toy into your skin again. Twirling the handle, he had the vibrator rolling side-to-side along the curve of the underside of your belly.

“‘Cause I am sorry, I wanna apologise for ignoring you.”

“It’s okay.” He told you. “I know you’re sorry, that’s why you’re letting me punish you. That’s why you’re gonna take it for me.”

Before you could say anything more, he was distracting you by moving the wand down. He soon had it back on your clit, at once redirecting your focus. Your chest swelled as the vibrations affected you on an immediate level.

He didn’t hold it still, letting you feel it all over your clit as he stroked you with it. He manipulated it in waves and the friction that this gave you had you craving more. You arched your back, very interested in gaining greater pressure.

You got invested in this feeling and you began to move your hips. You tried to match his rhythm as you sought to discover just how much he would let you get away with. He didn’t discourage your rocking and it felt so much better to be in motion.

Before you could get too settled into this, he was taking it away again. This time the vibrating head was going downwards, moving onto your inner-thigh to pulse against the muscle here. He kept it high on the leg, about an inch from your crotch, as if to hint at what the toy could be doing for you.

You continued to feel the tingling of your clitoris as the anticipation for more lingered. He rolled it up-and-down each of your thighs with you keeping your legs spread for him. Under different circumstances, this would have been a relaxing massage - but it did nothing to calm you down as you felt more blood pumping into your cunt.

You let more of your resolve crumble as he set the wand between your labia again. The desire was an ache inside of you and your hands were shaking. The wet noises from your cunt accompanied how he moved the wand, stroking it up-and-down between your folds, encouraging the sensitivities to spread even further. Your moisture was shared all over your cunt.

You loved how it felt when he moved the wand to its lowest point yet, letting it rest at your entrance. Your puffy lips parted, conforming to the bulb-shaped head. Your head slumped back, a choked sob coming from you as you indulged in this new sensation.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy getting all worked up like this. You’re taking it like the perfect toy and it’s driving me a little crazy.” He said, giving you a burst of pride. “Keep taking it for me.”

“I will, Master.” You whispered.

You grinded yourself down harder on the toy, dazzled by how this accelerated the passion inside of you. You wondered if this would be enough to get you off, if he left it there long enough as your hips enthusiastically stuttered in the air. It was promising and you would happily explore more of how it felt.

You weren’t surprised when he left you wanting more, the wand taken away. You drew in a shaky breath, letting go of your frustration over not being allowed to access that next level of pleasure. You were still being kept from becoming complete.

You felt his arm wrap around you as he moved in closer. This was so that he could press the vibrator against the small of your back, which wasn’t enough to distract you from how wet you were.

Your eyes opened at the feeling of his breath warming your face. He was looking down at you,  very amused by your current state. You could feel how much you were blushing, unable to hide your neediness with him staring straight at you.

You gave an excited whimper as his lips met yours. You savoured the feeling of him so close, letting yourself get a little lost in his kisses. Your fingers burned to be running through his hair, to get to experience more of him.

You were ecstatic when his hips met yours and you expressed some of your neediness in your movements. You were happy to get to grind against him, lining your slit up with his covered cock. You didn’t spare a thought to getting into more trouble for spreading your cum on his shorts. Because you were hardly aware of the fabric, just concentrating on how good this felt to be almost going through the motions of fucking. His tongue gliding into your mouth felt like an invitation to carry on.

The wand’s vibrating head moved down lower, with him guiding it onto your butt. He followed the line of your asscrack with it, inviting you to feel the vibrations in a new way, from an angle you would have easily overlooked. All of this served to get you feeling even hotter, adding to the tension that would need to be worked out of your pussy.

He didn’t stop moving the wand until he was almost at your entrance. Less than an inch from the hole, in this hidden spot, he held it. You were soon whining against his mouth, teased by the enduring almost of this moment. It was almost in the right place and it was almost enough to take you higher.

“Does that feel good, kitten?” He asked, giving it a little wiggle without letting it get any closer to your cunt.

“Uh-huh.”

“I know it does. But you’re not about to come without permission, are you?” He asked. “You’re gonna be a good girl and keep taking it for me. ‘Cause I’m not done yet.” You whimpered in response to hearing that. “I’m really not.”

You had stopped trying to grind yourself on his cock, now you were wiggling back onto the vibrator, seeking to get more from it.

But before you could truly tap into this potential, he was taking it away. At the same time, he was peeling back from you, shifting his body weight away. You kept your eyes shut, trying to gather yourself amidst this feeling of so many frayed nerves.

He was startling you out of your daze when he brought the toy to one of your nipples. Your legs flinched and you briefly sobbed, your whole system given a start. He pressed it against the hardened peak and it was like a white hot poker right to the core of your being. Your throat clenched as you struggled to comprehend this intensity. 

“Kitten…” He whined, making those two syllables go on for much longer. “All these noises, you’re just…” He placed the vibrator on your other nipple. “I was gonna wait to fuck you, but you’re making it… I can’t wait.” You raised your head, daring to hope that he was about to put an end to this torture, that he was about to let you progress. “You are making it literally too hard.” He turned the vibrations off and took the wand away.

You opened your eyes to find he was in the middle of taking off his shorts and briefs. You took in the sight of his freed dick, looking forward to something new. Your eyes darted from his face to his cock and back again as you decided that you didn’t have a preference over what he did next, you were simply enthused by the prospect of him making another move.

He settled himself down again, sitting off to the side of your knee, instead of climbing on top of you. He wrapped his hand around his shaft, instead of laying a single finger upon you.

You watched him start to jerk himself off and you were feeling a little dumbfounded because it didn’t look like he was prepping himself for you. It looked like he was comfortable in his current position, oblivious to you as he settled into his ideal pace.

His breathing was coming in heavier as he looked up at you. “Do you see, babygirl? Do you see how ridiculously hard you’ve made me?”

“I do.” You responded in a small voice.

“You’re so sexy that you’ve disrupted my plan.” He said. “But we can adapt.” With his available hand, he picked up the vibrator again. He switched it back on. “You get to enjoy more of your vibe while you watch.”

“Watch?” You repeated unhappily.

“Yep.” He moved a little closer so that he could reach you with the toy. Its buzzing head was brought to your pubic mound, immediately creating a pressure that couldn’t be ignored. “You’re gonna ride that edge a little longer for me, okay? Not too much longer, don’t get so pouty. Just a fraction more edging, that way you’ll be nice and grateful when I get you off.” You bit into your bottom lip as you thought about how much gratitude you could show if he let you come right now. “I said don’t pout. Now, you don’t have to smile, but you do have to tell me that you’re still down for this and that you want to finish your punishment.”

You did your best to draw in a deep breath. “Please punish me more, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Hearing him say this was just as soothing as having him caress your forehead - it was a little inspiration to keep at it.

He had the wand steady, pressing it right up against your pubic bone. You squirmed through the building sensitivities, feeling the threats to your resolve from every possible angle. It seemed like all of your body was attuned, a desperate harmony that cried out for the climax.

You couldn’t help moaning as those consistent vibrations kept you so weak, kept promising more. And you watched as he chased for his own serving of more. His hand kept at his dick, starting to draw wet sounds. As he worked, his hips moved, with him going deeper into his tempo. His eyes were darting all over your body, not wasting a single piece of inspiration.

The clenching of your inner-walls felt pathetic, even though you couldn’t help it. You were stuck with just recalling the feeling of that cock driving into you as deeply as you needed it. You watched the motions of his strokes, imagining how it would be to have your pussy stroking him instead. Before too long you were lifting your hips, rocking into the relentless wand. You weren’t trying to match his speed, but you craved movement, you needed to get some of this energy out.

“Fuck…” He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he got faster in his rhythm.

Your eyes locked onto his tip as you saw how it started to leak. You put more power into your hips, feeling yourself getting closer as you bought more into the fantasy of fucking, getting caught up in the sensations that typically came with it.

“I’m close.” He said. “Can I have your mouth? Please let me shoot into that pretty mouth.”

“Yes, Master.” Having him in your mouth was the next best thing to having him in your cunt. You were craving his taste.

He stopped caring about the vibrator and you didn’t lament losing its pulsations. He took his hand off of his dick as he came toward you, figuring out his next move.

“I’m not gonna untie your hands.” His voice had lost most of the earlier harshness.

“Okay.”

“But I’ll hold this hand.” He said, placing one of his hands in yours now that he was close enough. “And you give me three squeezes if you need to breathe.” You were nodding as he got into position over your face, placing his knees on either side of your head. “Or you can just give me a kick if it gets too much.”

You didn’t refuse any aspects of his advances, just opening your mouth as you loosely wrapped your fingers around his hand. With him so close to your face, you were given the scent of his pure lust, a hint at what was to come. You extended your tongue over your row of bottom teeth, watching as he shifted and secured his balance.

He angled his hips and brought the head of his cock down to your tongue. He was looking into your eyes as he moved his shaft down your tongue, your saliva mixing with the moisture that was already coating him. He moved for the warmth of your mouth and you obediently wrapped your lips around him.

You could feel how he was throbbing as he eased more of his length into you, his eyelids beginning to flutter. He didn’t go all the way in, not striving to overwhelm you straight away.

His hand held yours a little tighter as he pumped forward, then back again. He worked himself back-and-forth, your slicked lips rubbing him as he established the tempo that suited his needs. You stayed with him, all of his reactions adding to the arousal that dominated your experience.

He was soon using your mouth almost as quickly as he had been moving his hand. You kept your cheeks drawn in as he locked into his goal. You weren’t craving your own stimulations, that had faded from importance, his climax clearly more significant. The pleasure that you derived came from being used, came from being exactly what he needed right now.

“Fuck…” He moaned.

His available hand reached down, collecting some of your hair between his fingers. You were feeling the extra warmth in your mouth as his dick started to leak more consistently.

“Make me come and I’ll give you the next load in your pussy. We’ll come together, okay babygirl?”

You had to find a way to agree that wouldn’t require you to take him out of your mouth. You sucked your cheeks in more, willing to sacrifice your ability to breathe easily for the moment. You also lifted your tongue to press against the underside of his shaft as he kept at this pacing.

The wet insides of your parted thighs twitched as you felt the burning desire to watch him fall apart. You could tell that he was getting close to losing himself when his hips unpredictably jutted forward a few times.

“Mmn, mmn…” His whining was getting louder as he grinded harder into your face. His eyes squeezed shut as his chest expanded and the hand holding your hair gripped tighter. Your world froze as you watched, desperate to see him move into that ecstasy.

He threw his head back as his body weight rocked forward. The cum surged into your mouth, heavy drops sliding straight down your tongue and into your throat. You kept your lips tensed around him as his half-coherent moans filled the room.

You began to move your tongue against him, making something of an effort to clean his dick. He let go of your hair, but his hand in yours squeezed. You massaged your tongue all over the shaft filling your mouth as he steadily caught his breath.

“That wasn’t how I planned it.” He said, withdrawing over your messy lips. “But you just…” He moved off of you, putting his butt on the mattress. “With every noise that you were making, it had me questioning why I was working so hard to keep control, ‘til I got tired of not having an answer.”

You had thoroughly licked your lips, but you could feel how wet the immediate area around your mouth still was. You turned your head, bringing your face to your elevated arm. You used your bicep to wipe off the lower half of your face, rubbing back-and-forth. When you were done, you saw a couple of streaks from your purple lipstick mixed in with the combination of spit and cum.

You didn’t hesitate to set your tongue to work cleaning this up. His cum was the beginning of your reward and you wanted to savour every bit of it. You heard his little excited gasp when he noticed what you were doing - all without being asked to do so, you were feeling very much like a good girl. You enjoyed having his taste coat your tongue for a while longer.

“Should we revise what you learned earlier?” He asked.

It took you a moment to realise what he was hinting at. “Good girls come with permission.”

“Uh-huh, and are you ready for your permission?” He asked, moving closer.

“Yes, Daddy.” You said, your breath coming in faster as he climbed on top of you, this time placing his body over yours. “Yes, Daddy.”

He kissed you, undeterred by the taste of his own cum. The time spent without the vibrator hadn’t seen any dulling of your desires. Just because you’d had the chance to catch your breath didn’t mean you were any less turned on than you had been when he was in the middle of punishing you. All of those sensitivities lingered, just waiting to be rediscovered by him.

You remained so close to that edge, exactly where he wanted you. Your whimper was muffled by his lips when the head of his hard shaft began to spread your swollen pussy open.

So much of your body was attuned to his movements that you were feeling it beyond your cunt when he moved in deeper. It seemed like every fibre of your being had been awaiting this penetration.

“You look so good like this.” He said in a husky whisper as he started to rock his hips into yours.

“You think that I look good takin’ that dick?” You sought to clarify. “I’m glad.”

“That goes without saying, babygirl. I meant how pretty you look with your makeup all ruined and running.” He said as his eyes moved across the features of your face. “You looked hot all made up at the start of the night, you always paint yourself to perfection. But there’s somethin’ about how you look right now- unf, it’s doing things to me.

“Your lipstick is absolutely destroyed. All that pretty shadow under your eyes is streaky, so much is smeared. And it’s beautiful. And it’s the perfect representation of how much I’ve corrupted you. I can see through the facade, I can see how much you’ve let me ruin you.” He said. “And it’s so sexy, it’s so…”

You wrapped one of your legs around his waist, bringing him in closer as you tilted your pelvis. “Corrupt me more, I want more.”

He picked up speed, spending more time buried deep into your cunt. “I will, oh I fuckin’ will, I will, I will…”

He got faster again and it became difficult to think amidst all of the sensations that his persistent thrusting was stirring up. Your walls spasmed and clamped around him, with every collision feeling better than the one that preceded it.

You shut your eyes as your whole body felt full of tingles, pulsing in your desperate state. Your hands were shaking and it was consistently getting harder to hold back the overwhelming conclusion.

“Please.” You burst out, ready to give in to your monumental orgasm.

“Yes babygirl, yes.” He moaned, his stamina remaining as he finished you off with some more pounding. “Come for me, come.”

You cried out in relief, so glad to let it all go. As you were moving into your perfect moment, the clamping down of your cunt was enough to take him over his own edge. Buried deep inside of you, this new wave of cum was unleashed.

All that you could do was go limp, you were spent in every sense of the word.

“Oh my fucking God.” You gasped as you finally felt him loosening the rope around your wrists.

“How do you feel? Are you alright?” He asked, cradling your face in his hands.

You opened your eyes to find him looking you over with eyes full of concern and you wanted to get rid of that as quickly as possible. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m- I’m alright.”

“Good girl.” He said, giving you a kiss on the forehead, reinforcing the fact that the scene was over. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can get you, yeah?”

“Mm-hm.”

He let out a deep sigh. “I think I need a cigarette after all of that.”

You drew your arms and legs up to your torso as you continued to work at catching your breath. You were still feeling overwhelmed, you didn’t know how to even begin coming down.

In the process of finding his pack of cigarettes and lighter, your inactivity had caught his attention. He walked back over to the bed. “Hey, how are you feelin’?”

“I- I’m alright.” Your mouth felt dry as you talked. “I just-... it can wait ‘til you come back from your smoke.”

He sat down beside you. “No, no waiting, tell me now.”

You couldn’t explain it but there was a shyness that you felt as you gradually lifted your eyes up to his face. “Can I have cuddles?”

“Fuck yes you can have cuddles.” He said as he quickly laid down with you. He scooted his body in closer and wrapped his arms around you. “Is this what you had in mind?”

“Yes, this is perfect. I like how safe I feel in your arms.”

He was gently stroking your hair back from your face, moving the strands to rest behind your ear. “That’s good because you are safe in my arms. You’re safe…” He kissed you on the cheek. “You’re valued…” He kissed your other cheek. “You’re respected…” He switched back to the other cheek, but this time his kiss was placed much closer to your lips. “You’re understood…” He mirrored another kiss. “And you are fucking adored.”

His next kiss went directly onto your lips. You shut your eyes, caressing his cheek as you enjoyed a subtle warmth blooming in your belly. You marvelled at how fast he could help you feel less unsettled in your own skin.

“And if you’re not feeling all of those things, then I’m not doing my job as your dom.” He said.

“It’s not that I don’t feel those things. It’s just such a big rush of emotions and the crash after the adrenaline- I guess it caught me off-guard. And the alcohol probably doesn’t help all of that.” You said.

“How much did you have?”

“Uh…” It felt like you were looking back further than just a few hours ago. “Three glasses of wine and some shots.”

His eyebrows raised. “Some shots?”

“I don’t remember specifics, Max was buying them.” You said. “But one that we had was called a purple nurple.”

“And was it nurple-y?” He teased.

“Um, it was purple.” You said. “Anyway, my point is that me getting discombobulated is not a failing on your part. Maybe I just need a little extra aftercare tonight.”

“Awesome. You know that I’m always down for aftercare, I’ll aftercare you into next week. As much fun as I have during our scenes, I wouldn’t rank that time above this.” He said as he traced his fingers up-and-down your spine. “I love getting to take care of you and nurturing you like this- it’s honestly so good for me too. I like the feeling of us restoring the balance.”

You didn’t doubt that he meant what he said, but you still sought another piece of validation. “You like it so much that you don’t mind me keeping you from a cigarette?”

“My pet is far more important than any cigarette.” He said.

“Because I’m cuter than a cigarette?”

This earned you a chuckle from him. “Yes. On the long, long list of things that you are cuter than, is cigarettes.” He gave you another kiss. “Was there another part of aftercare that you had in mind, or are you only about the cuddles?”

“Actually, can you do me a favour?” You asked, prompting him to immediately nod his head. “On my makeup table, it should be out with the other stuff- can you get the box for these lashes?” He started to sit up. “I’m desperate to take these off. It feels like butterflies have landed on my eyes.”

He walked over to the disorganised mess that was your makeup table. “Well they look very pretty and they didn’t move a single inch.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I made sure I glued that shit down properly.” You said. “Do I really look like the kind of chick that would go to a drag show with a wonky eyelash?”

“No, you do not.” He said, returning to the bed with two things in hand. He showed you the pack of face wipes. “I figured I could help you take the rest of the makeup off.”

You were pulling one of the false eyelashes off of your lid as you sat up. “Thanks, but I’m probably better off just having a shower ‘cause I’m gonna need coconut oil to get this eyeliner off, it’s the heavy-duty shit.”

“Should we shower? I’ll cuddle you in there too.”

The two of you went into the bathroom. While he was getting the shower water to the perfect temperature, you stepped up to the mirror to inspect the makeup he was so taken by. Immediately you were laughing at what you saw. You were such a mess, it appeared that you had been partying for days, or that you had started trying to wipe your makeup off, only to get bored and fall asleep not even halfway through the process.

You commented that you didn’t understand how he could call you beautiful in your current state, a fucking dumpster would look more put together than you. At that he had rushed to your side, kissing you on the cheek before launching into an explanation of how your natural sexiness shone through. It seemed that he had an endless amount of sweet words to tell you, ready to counter all of your self-deprecating statements.

He was still talking when you stepped into the shower with him. Under the pleasantly warm stream of water, he took the lead in removing your makeup. You held the jar of coconut oil and he dipped a portion of the washcloth in, tenderly wiping this across your face, one section at a time.

“Can I tell you about my night?” You asked.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been dying to get the full story. You sent me, like, two Snapchats when you first got to the club, then nothing.”

You did your best to keep everything in chronological order as you shared what you had experienced within the doors of Honcho. You told him about the best drag performances, sharing details of the outfits and repeating any funny comments you had made at the time. You described the friendly people you had met (becoming mutuals with a couple on Instagram) and you explained how you had been convinced to stay so late.

“I’m sorry, I just wanna make sure I heard you right…” He cut in. “Did you say Glue, this queen was named Glue, that’s the whole name?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You said. “Do you not like it? I love it, it’s hilarious.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just really random.”

“That’s what’s so great about it. So you wouldn’t go the silly route if you were picking a drag name?” You asked.

He shook his head. “Nuh-uh, I think my drag name would need to be something super slutty.”

“‘Cause you’d be-”

He started talking in the same second, your words somewhat synchronising. “Because I would be a slutty queen.”

“-a slutty queen.”

He smiled at that. “Ah-ha, so you’re familiar with my work?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you on stage two or three times, I guess.” You joked.

You started trying to come up with the perfect name for his drag queen alter-ego, brainstorming aloud. You attempted to combine the word slut with common names and he joined in. You were both laughing as the practice seemingly became a competition to come up with the dumbest thing.

»»————-　♡　————-««    

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[maoisarap]

MESS AND INSPIRATIONS / Episode 1

Idol Story | Rumi Shio (FS1)

"This is hard~!" A loud huff comes from the greenette as they slump back against the backrest of the bright blue desk chair in the large, opened space that is the shared computer office of STARMAKER PRODUCTION. A pout of defeat formed on their pale face as they rolled the chair they sat upon away from the desk a little bit. A sketch pad lying on the said desk all messily.

"You okay, True Finder?" The familiar voice of Mao calls from the other side of the opening to the large office, with Mao peeking his head past the edge of the wall and towards his loving other. He was originally making himself a fresh cup of hot beverage from the coffee maker Eichi Tenshouin brought into the office ages ago, before he heard the whines of Rumi Shio coming from the other side of the wall.

"No!" Rumi exclaims albeit louder than intended. Thankfully, no one was in the office apart from them and Mao. "I can't seem to come up with an idea for my first exclusive outfit. How did you do it? It's so difficult...!"

Mao wanders into the area that Rumi was sitting in, grabbing at the top of another desk chair and rolling it across the floorboards so he sat close to where Rumi positioned themselves. He grabs their sketch pad off the surface of the desk and opens the covers up, seeing the countless pages worth of ideas that Rumi had tried their best in coming up with for their own outfit.

(Including an outfit heavily inspired by Mao's own first exclusive outfit, only for the sketch to be deepened with a big cross over it and messages of negativity surrounding it. Which causes a small frown to crease Mao's facial features as he read each individual message, heart mentally breaking.)

"I don't see anything wrong with the ideas you already had..." Mao says once, placing back the sketch pad into its original (but more neater) position on the desk and glanced to the side where he sees Rumi still with the huffy-pouty expression on their own face, their feet just about dragged along the floorboards and causing them to swirl the chair they sat upon left to right but not entirely to the point of spinning all around.

Rumi situates themselves up after hearing Mao talk for a second. The late night sky connects with the fresh-cut field horizon as the couple becomes eye-to-eye in that moment of thought. Rumi then looks down in a split afterwards and deflates. "None of the ideas scream 'me,' they're all ideas taken from everyone else's exclusives I have helped Anzu with to design upon from when I was your producer."

"Then, what do you like, Rumi?"

"You... know what I like... Mao."

A little huff of amusement comes from the mentioned older of the couple. "Sure I do, but I want to hear the words right from the source themselves~ so tell me, Rumi Shio, what do you like? What are your interests? What inspires you the most? Start there if you can. Then we'll see what we can come up with — together."

Once more, Rumi looks up, thoughts swirling in their mind as Mao awaited by their side in patience, forever a smile adorned on his face as Rumi opens their mouth, ready to spill any thoughts possible.

"Well..."

[glamphantasm]

MC Monday Prompt 4:

MC accidentally drinks a truth potion. Seeing the opportunity, Asmodeus asks MC what they think about each and every one one of them.

(Part 2) (Part 1 here)

Kai sat up quickly, eyes wide with something near panic as he curled up tightly on the bed. "Asmo, no..."

The demon let out a musical giggle, shaking his head. "I'm afraid so." He held up his hand in response to a feeble protest. "Don't worry though, darling ~ everyone needs a bit of mystery to be interesting, and I would truly hate to be bored of your pretty face.", he leaned in, kissing the human's cheek.

Kai watched warily as Asmo picked up his DDD, and cringed as he heard the group chat chime. "You're trying to kill me. This is it, this is how I die.", he mumbled as he read the new message.

"Our Darling Attendant has imbibed truth serum!~ if anyone has questions, it's now or never ♡"

Multiple demons began typing immediately.

"Asmo... what the hell?", Kai's brow was furrowed, lower lip caught between his teeth.

Asmodeus smiled, shrugging. "Sorry dear. Demon, remember? ♡"

Kai wished he'd at least tried to look a little sorry about it.

Lucifer's response was the first to come through. "No questions relating to his past. Kai is entitled to some privacy. Common Room, 20 minutes. You will each get one question. If this becomes too difficult for him, it is over."

(thank you...)

Kai sat in the armchair nearest to the fireplace, clutching his now cold coffee between his hands, one leg bouncing as he stared down at the carpet between his feet.

After a bit of bickering, the brothers convened around the human, crowding around him as they all spoke over one another. The eldest remained standing, taking up position at the left side of the armchair, a hand resting lightly on the back.

Despite it all... Kai missed this. The closeness. The arguments. The safety. The familiarity made his chest clench.

"I can't answer you all at once...", the room grew quiet as Kai glanced at each brother in turn. "Does anyone want to go first?"

To everyone's surprise, Sloth spoke up immediately, his tone conveying his upset. "You always avoid me... why? You spend time with the others..."

Kai blinked, one hand rubbing the permanently discolored skin at the base of his throat reflexively. He opened his mouth to reply, his brain thankfully engaging a split second before disaster struck.

(don't say 'because you fucking murdered me and gave a damn only after you found out I was descended from your sister, you psychopath.' that hasn't happened here...)

Choosing his next words after a moment of deliberation, he tried to answer truthfully, but vaguely as possible. "You're right. I don't make time for you, and my reasons are unfair. I don't want to go into detail, but you ar-,

(careful)

y-you remind me of someone who hurt me very badly that I would rather forget.", he knew the words were cruel as they slid past his lips, but they have all heard worse. "I shouldn't do that to you, and I will try not to the future. I... I'm sorry." Kai was surprised to realize the last words were genuine.

Belphegor hugged his cow-print pillow close to his chest, nodding and moving slightly away from the group, pulling his hood up to obscure his features. Kai took a long sip of coffee, before putting the cup down with a sigh.

"Next?" Kai looked to Beel, who was frowning, deep in thought. He knew the question before it was asked, terror flooding his veins, adding to the vaguely nauseated remains of the hangover.

"Why are you always hungry, Kai?", Beelzebub's voice was quiet, unhappy as he continued. "I can feel it, you know. Even now. You never eat very much, and you just push food around after a few bites. You lie whenever I ask.", there was sadness deep in those violet eyes as the gentle giant of a demon gazed at their Attendant, unblinking.

(don't you dare tell him he wants to take me from you they all do i've always kept you safe don't you dare give me away you stupid...)

Opening his mouth to reply, Kai found the usual deflections dying on his lips as he tried to speak. Without his shields, he suddenly felt very small, and drew his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

"Beel...", Kai paused, trying to explain without using The Words., "I have kind of the opposite thing as you do. A lot of food here is extremely different from what I'm used to in the human world, and I just... don't know how to deal with it. I've never been a good eater, even as a kid. Picky, fussy, all of that.", he stopped speaking, hoping that answer would be good enough, despite the muffled laugh of disbelief he heard from one of the brothers. Kai dropped his gaze as he rested his chin on his knees.

Asmo spoke up quickly, cutting off any followup questions.

(bless them)

"I'll wait til the end. I have a bunch of questions, and I'm not wasting my one shot if someone has the same ideas~"

(curse them)

Satan spoke next, drumming acid green lacquered nails on the cover of the book he had been reading. "Why are you here? Not here, here, but in the Devildom? What is Solomon playing at? What are his intentions?"

Kai relaxed the slightest bit, safe for once in his lack of knowledge. "If I knew Solomon's intentions, it would be the first time ever.", he twisted the Ring of Light on his right hand as he thought. "I'm... I'm his apprentice. He saw potential in me, and took it upon himself to train me. His thoughts are his own, and not shared. He only said there was something like a 'destabilization' in the Realms, and I was to go with him as he investigated. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. He told me the cover to adopt, and I did." Kai shrugged, the next words slipping out before he could stop them. "I don't particularly trust him, but he is the teacher I have, and a very knowledgeable one, so I'm stuck."

Satan looked less than pleased with the response as Asmodeus nodded sympathetically, humming an affirmation. "That does sound like Solomon. He never tells you anything he thinks you don't need to know."

"He never thinks anyone needs to know anything.", Kai replied wryly.

There was a silence that stretched several beats longer than was comfortable, while the words hung in the air, the only sound the soft rasp of Asmo buffing his nails. Kai ached to ask more about the pact, but held his tongue, unsure of what details were public knowledge.

Leviathan squirmed on the far couch as the silence stretched, face growing redder. He looked up from the handheld console he had seemed absorbed in. "This is stupid and you don't have to tell me but who's waiting for you in the human realm and when do they expect you back?", the words tumbled over each other, blending into a single stream of sound that took a moment for Kai's mind to separate. "You don't have to answer I don't care whatever." Envy stared down at the screen he held as though he could bore holes through it.

The human shook his head. "Nobody. Anyone who would have wondered would have stopped caring a while ago. Friends probably think I ghosted, or died.", his tone grew bitter as he continued. "I don't know if any blood relatives are alive, and I wouldn't see them if they were. I didn't see them much past I think I was 11, maybe 12...but fuck 'em, their loss; barely saw them before that anyways. "

Lucifer cleared his throat quietly. "You are not required to reveal your past if you do not wish to." - a reminder and warning both.

Kai nodded, again staring down into cold coffee.

Mammon tossed a couch pillow up, catching it as he spoke. "So, if ya win the lottery, yer gonna share, right?", he grinned, shaking his head before Kai could answer. "Nah. I dunno. I don't have anything serious to ask ya. You're a good Attendant. But... oh! Okay! If everythin' was gonna end next week, what would you change?", the gleam in his eye was teasing, the question an easy one as to not waste his turn.

Kai sat quietly for a moment, looking at Mammon, smile tinged with something haunted. "I'd move in here and never leave again. That's all."

Greed laughed as he tried to figure out if it was an odd joke, and then fell silent, nodding.

Lucifer dropped his hand to Kai's shoulder in a brief touch. "We spoke at some length yesterday, and you were brutally honest with me. I have no question deserving an audience."

Kai relaxed visibly, casting a grateful glance to the demon standing above him. He reached to touch the gloved hand, before aborting the motion, rolling his coffee between his palms.

A loud sigh interrupted the curious murmurs, and the demon behind it all stood, hand on his hip as he swept his gaze across those assembled. "You are all so boring!", Asmodeus snarked, throwing the nail buffer he had been occupying himself with at Mammon. They turned to Kai, voice dropping to a sotto purr, "Now darling... tell me what you think of each of us~ in detail! ♡. Do Lucifer first, age before beauty!"

Kai removed his glasses, rubbing his face hard enough to see stars as an amused moment of chatter swept the room, mingled with a scoff from the far couch.

Holding up one hand in a defeated wave, Kai drew a deep breath.

(time to try the easy way out)

"I-I care about all of you more than our short time together would generally merit. I know that I've been in this position for less than a month, but you have all become the closest thing I have ever known to a family."

A theatrical hiss destroyed any hopes he had of that being enough. "That's not what I asked! 🎶" chirped Asmodeus.

The human's patience nearly snapped after everything the last 36 hours had thrown at him. "Fine.", Kai stood up, turning to face each brother as he addressed them.

"Lucifer, there is nothing I wish I could say to you right now that you would want said in front of the others. I respect you deeply, and you are extremely important to me."

Not allowing time for a reply, Kai went down the line.

"Mammon, I love who you are, but stop thinking you can lie to me. You are anything but stupid, but you're a terrible liar, and your tells are more obvious than the castle on the horizon.

Levi, let's hang out sometime. I'm not great with games, but I'm a fucking awesome Player Two and I have a really high tolerance for anime tropes. Ball's in your court, Admiral.

Satan, I realize you are still figuring out how to be your own demon, but try to take off your blinders. Your brothers all adore you whether they admit it or not. You are devastatingly intelligent, and kinder than you ever want to admit to.

Asmodeus, I am so. fucking. angry. at you right now for putting me on the spot like this. Again, I understand you are who you are, and I love you for it, you're beautiful, and fun, and more complicated than you even realize. I see you.

Beelzebub, you care so much still, and you are softer than anyone outside of this house would ever guess. I understand making hard decisions with nothing but regret no matter what, and I know how much they hurt. You are the size you are, because nothing smaller could protect your heart. Never let that change.

Belphegor, Belphie... as I said before, I've not given you a fair chance due to my own biases. I have enjoyed watching the stars with you, and have a great time during movie nights with you and Beel. I'll do better in the future.

I love you all."

Kai turned again, facing each demon's shocked expression for a moment, eyes shining with unshed tears. When he spoke again, his throat was tight. "That's everyone then? I hope this episode of Put the Human On The Spot was entertaining. There will not be an encore."

With that, Kai turned, leaving the common room, feet taking him the 83 steps to his room.

(what used to be your room)

Kai stood motionless, hearing the hushed muttering from those left behind, and slid down the wall opposite, covering his face with his hands to muffle the silent scream he could feel building in his chest.

(there is no home)

[kinetic-elaboration]

January 18: Memorials

Today was the law school memorial. It went better than I thought it would. I was getting pretty nervous about it because yet again the communication was terrible. Former employees were only invited to one half of the event and then they all got nervous about coming early. There was no information about parking for them. And I found out literally 5 minutes before that the program for speaking (I use the word program loosely because there was no program) only allotted ten minutes for all library people so I wouldn't be able to say anything. That ended up being not entirely true--other people who were told they couldn't speak did anyway and the whole thing still ended early--but it was sort of true, in that the organizers really only intended for the director to speak and she just split her time with other staff and it ended up being enough by chance. And like, I was thinking of it as extemporaneous remarks but also like... like open mic, you know, and people can just speak, not whatever this actually was that I heard in whispers and rumors just moments before. Some sort of hybrid of 'planned speaker list where people read speeches' and 'just whoever wants can come up or what have you.'

Anyway, the point is, I did chicken out. I was more intimidated by the people than I had thought I would be, and I was also really upset and already crying and I didn't really want to go up last and cry in front of all these randos. But part of it was also that I took the news about the 'ten minutes' thing as basically a message that I wasn't welcome to speak and from that moment on I forgot all my remarks and just sort of... you know, threw up my hands and went oh well. Because I need to be able to prepare for things, mentally; I need to visualize them, I need to be secure in them, especially if they make me nervous. I cannot have the game plan changed last minute. It's unfair to do that to me, I think.

The point of this is that I'm getting really tired of this utter clown car that is my workplace. Just competence levels really scraping the basement floor here. I'm also tired of so much of my friend's legacy being caught up in this, like, political nonsense. The ex-dean made remarks that I felt were literally pointed at the library to tell us to shut up about the poaching--and a lot of library talk is also about all the bad feelings from this era. I get that it's relevant and I get that grief brings up other messy emotions too but I'm just tired of it. The law school sucks balls; that's nothing new. I miss my friend.

A part of me feels kind of cowardly and bad that I didn't speak. But another part... I spoke to people I actually knew and I told some stories and gave some thoughts, and maybe that was all I needed to do or should have done. Nothing that I'd been planning to say was revolutionary. Maybe it would have been nice to go up there and say 'I'm not doing a general reminiscence, here's a story I think is fun, bye' but again I can't change gears like that.

I did like how almost all of the speakers were library people and most of the focus was on library history and her role here. The second half was in the lobby for the students and while I know my supervisor was annoyed that the library got erased there--these students wouldn't have known her there, that history isn't really relevant to them. I thought the remarks were very nice.

I did think it was funny how a couple of people veered very close to stories about the administration sucking but without saying it in so many words, and I hope the guilty parties FELT guilty because they deserve it. One student told the story of the missing donation box but she told it as if the box had just been taken by fairies or something whereas actually it was taken by law admin because it looked "unprofessional" or "messy" in their pristine ugly-ass lobby. And oooooh my friend was PISSED about it at the time. In some ways I felt like her legacy was...not whitewashed, but maybe only partially given. People spoke of her kindness and generosity and friendliness and all of that is true--but those weren't ways she just happened to be. She worked to be that way. Those traits stemmed from a really strong, uncompromising set of moral values--she had Opinions and she wasn't afraid to share them. She had beliefs about how she thought people should be and act, and then she was that way herself. She lived up to the standards she set but she set them for everyone. I think it's both more true and more of an honor to her to say 'her cheerfulness wasn't an accident of her personality, but rather reaching out to people, showing them kindness, caring about their lives, and remaining committed to relationships in the long term, was part of her moral code, part of her intense loyalty, to such a degree that she didn't always understand how anyone else could think differently.'

But I also don't think the students would know her well enough to see all that.

It was really nice to see the retirees and former employees again, including the woman who had my job before me and trained me in my early days here. I haven't seen her since about 2018 and I missed her. After the memorials, the director ordered pizza for us and we had sort of a long lunch, and then almost everyone in my department abandoned ship. I had sort of been thinking of asking to leave early but I didn't, and then one person left to work from home as she usually does on Thursdays and the other just tapped out. I knew the deceased a lot better so, I won't lie, there was a part of me that was like this is hard for YOU?? but I know that's mean and ungenerous and unkind of me. I toughed it out the last 90 minutes since everyone else had gone, so. I did talk to my supervisor for literally 60 of those minutes. I told her I felt obligated to stay and she was like 'I won't know if you don't do anything. We can chat until I leave if you want,' so, yeah--the capitalist machine will not grind me down in my grief.

After I left, I put the yellow flower I'd been wearing--all of the library staff and former staff were wearing them--on the statues outside. Then I just went home.

[mondaymelon]

— 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 …!

:feat~ alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari x reader:

⤷ im too obsessed with my sumeru boys i apologize in advance asdfdd ⤷ cw: modern!au, angst !!, you cheated (how could you do this to such fine men)

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu @solxima, psps come get your sumeru men ♡

“He’s gone now, you can come over.”

Ah, wait, did you just send that to-

ALHAITHAM is cold.

He hasn’t taken more then two steps out of your house when he recieves the message, staring at its words for a good minute or two before steeling his gaze. You don’t realize things have gone wrong until there’s a knock at your door, and when you open it, smiling with glittering eyes, only to see Haitham- well, that’s when the confusion begins to settle.

“Ah, you’ve come to greet me so excitedly, haven’t you?” His voice is laced with venom, and his tone sends shivers down your spine. Still, he’s a rational man, and he’s at least willing to listen to what you have to say before condemning you… probably.

“Haitham- What are you-??” You first stare at him, blinking frantically, before subtly turning your head to glance out the doorway - an action that’s not gone unmissed by his watchful gaze.

“Waiting for someone else, are you? I’m afraid your invitation reached the wrong person.” And just like that, his raises his phone for you to see, your two shameful messages on full display. Your breath immediately hitches in your throat - you don’t even need to read the texts, you know full well what they say, and the chilling panic in your heart at the moment is sending your entire body trembling. “I-I can explain…!”

“I’m not interested in hearing another one of your elaborate excuses.” And you can tell, through his cold, closed off glare, that he means it this time. “You should know this. I don’t give out my trust easily, yet still…” For just a split second, his voice trails off as his expression breaks into one that shows the hurt written across his face. Just as quickly as it comes, his true feelings are hidden once more behind is ice-cold facade, and he merely glances at you once more before turning his phone off, placing his familiar headphones over his ears.

He doesn’t want to hear your pleading voice right now. Not now, when his heart still freshly aches from how you’ve shattered him.

“This relationship is over, if you’ve ever even considered it one.”

KAVEH is frantic.

As soon as his phone pings, he instantly starts to read the texts, even when he’s still 10 steps away from your front door - after all, they’re from you, and every text you send sends his heart aflutter, whether you’re trying to or not… but this time…

“...What… is this…?” Is his screen shaking? Ah, no, it’s his hands, trembling as he feels chills come over his entire body, red gaze flickering. “Nono, I must be misunderstanding something, there’s no way…!”

Shaking his head hurriedly, he shoves his phone back into his bag, before rushing up the path to your house, trying to take deep breaths but failing as he knocks on your door with a shaking fist.

When you open the door, he can see it, the way your hopeful gaze is so warmly expectant, eyes sparkling and expression loving, and the way it falls when the person at the door isn’t the one you had in mind - Kaveh sees it all, and it hurts.

“Ah, sorry, I think I forgot something at your place…” He can’t help it the way the lie slips through his lips, no matter how guilty it’ll make him feel afterward. Right now, there’s only one thought circulating in his mind, and he’s using all of his willpower to stop himself from confronting you about it. Because he knows he will cry, because he can feel the sharp pain in his chest all too vividly. 

“Uhm- okay… Erm… Is it okay if…” He can see the way you’re flickering your gaze to the ground unsteadily, shifting your figure to block the way into the house, like you’re trying to hide something. “I-I give it to you later…?” Surely, you don’t think he’s that much of an idiot to believe such illogical words, do you?

“You don’t have to hide anything anymore, okay? If he makes you feel happier…”

Ah, there it is. He can’t hold it in anymore, the way his eyes are pooling with tears and the way is expression looks so desperate. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t enough.”

“K-Kaveh-?”

“Please, don’t call my name like that. You’ll only make this hurt more than it already does.”

“Wait-”

“If you didn’t feel anything for me anymore, you should’ve told me… then maybe, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

CYNO is regretful.

His smile drops when he sees those seven words, and it’s almost instantly replaced with one of stuttering calm. The kind of seperated calm that he shows to strangers, to the other mahamatra’s, to his admiring scholars, every one of his acquaintances who don’t realize how much of a warm person he actually is. 

Yet, under his cold front, his heart beats painfully. He knows he shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions, but he’s always been paranoid, always been convinced that he wasn’t deserving of you, and now… Well, his fears had been confirmed, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel relieved, whether or not he was allowed to feel hurt. Because hurt was the feeling that echoed so clearly throughout his entire body, aching and spreading like wilfire, and its clarity was hard to deny, even for someone who had experienced as much as he had.

Somehow, in those moments, all he could think of were the warm memories you two had shared, and the fragments kept replaying in his head in a flurry. A humid night in the rainforest, the two of you in Sumeru City, laying on the grassy fields next to the bustling marketplace and pointing to the stars above…

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m uncapable of doing the right thing.” He had confessed, scared to look you in the eyes, instead tracing the constellations he had learned from one of his few friends, Layla, in his mind. Seeing legendary heroes and mythical beasts run rampart across the endless sea of dark night, only leaving sparkling spots of light that remained as their legacy, was something that left him in a state of awe.

“And why is that?” There was a warm prescence on his hand as your fingers interlocked with his, forcing him to glance at you, laying on your side with a smile. Eyes that adored him, and him only.

“...As a matra, it’s my duty to capture criminals, is it not? Yet, at times…” His voice faltered, but you squeezed his hand, encouragement to continue. “I feel like I’m no better than such prisoners. I’ve condemned countless people to a fate of imprisonment and…!” He couldn’t say more with the shameful flush on his face, with how his heart quivered, with how he so shakingly glanced at you.

The way you comforted him then, the way you smiled at him, the way you kissed him that night, they were all such memories that had been ingrained so heavily in his prescence.

Then, at that moment, he had sworn to be yours, with a fluttering heart and glittering eyes.

But… was it really true that you had never been his in the first place?

“...It hurts.”

TIGHNARI is denying.

“Hm? A message from…?” His ears perk unintentionally as he glances down at his screen, frowning in confusion to see that they’re from you, the resident of the house he just left. Blinking, he turned the phone on, only to blink several times at the texts. “...What?”

He can’t help the way his ears tentatively begin to press flat against his head, and the way he frantically reads the texts over and over again with a quavering gaze, hands trembling.

“I must be missing something, there’s no way that they would… That’s right, they must be talking to a friend… Or maybe they just forgot to add…” He mumbles to himself, eyes wide as he gnaws on his fingernails through his glove, biting hard enough to draw blood.

“They wouldn’t do that to me. Of course not. I trust them.” His voice trembled with every word.

Trust, he had said to himself, yet there seemed to be none of it as he paced back up to your front door hesitantly, ringing the doorbell after much thought. Certainly, not a soul would believe it if they had seen the sassy forest watcher in such a state, but at that moment, all Tighnari could feel was the animalistic urge to run.

“Coming!”

Ah, your voice sounds so excited. Did you sound the same way when Tighnari had come to your house?

“...Tighnari?”

The look of disappointment mixed with confusion flickers across your face before you give him a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“...I… haha, I’m not sure myself…” He puts a hand on the wall to steady his balance. “...I just…”

“Uhm- Tighnari… Are you feeling alright?”

You say that, yet at the same time, you’re anxiously glancing past the said man, out onto the road, with nervous, expectant eyes. He pretends not to see the way that you’re hesitant when you touch his forehead, how you’re rushing to get him up and out, how you’re refusing to meet his eyes.

Ignorance.

That’s what Tighnari will do, that’s what he will believe. Because you are his, or at least were. You confessed your love to him, and he had returned your feelings, and now everything would happen perfectly as they do in the Sumeru children’s stories, wouldn’t it? The two fall in love, get married…

As he stumbles off your front porch, uneasily gripping the handrail, he fights back the urge to sink onto the ground. At least, not in front of you. He doesn’t want you to seem him in this weak, doesn’t want to give you any more reason to leave him.

However, as soon as he turns the corner, his legs give out. He’s on the ground, laid out as his hands wrench at his chest, where his heart feels like its splitting apart.

“There’s no need to be nervous.” He tells that to himself, ears trembling.

“They love me… and I love them, so what more is there to think about?”

(a/n) help cyno and nari seem so ooc to me

this is what a 10 hour drive (feat~ google docs offline editing) does to me

[cellophaine]

Tarnished Veil

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Blood kink – masochism, smearing of blood, minor injuries, angst, emotional gymnastic.

Author's Note: Reposting because my dumbass went out for dinner and forgot that I had this post on queue but not the taglist.

I'm very very excited to post this one! I've never read or written anything with blood kink, so I hope I did it justice.

GIF Credit

It was 3 AM, and you were still reading. Upon the realization that the man you had been waiting for might not be coming, you put the bookmark between the open pages, closed the book and returned it to the bedside table. Turning off the light, you thought to yourself: if he wasn't here by now, he probably wouldn't be tonight. You hadn't seen each other in almost two weeks. You missed him. Chasing the upsetting thought away, you huffed, fluffing your pillow. It wasn't like you needed a devil to keep your bed warm anyway. 

You settled into the soft sheets, which were as white as a swan's feathers. Running your hand through the cool surface, you remembered when there was another presence occupying the space instead of just you. You had to admit that you had been feeling a little lonely. Turning to your side, you grumbled slightly. You didn't like how you were losing sleep because of him.

Shutting your eyes close, you didn't see the figure that lingered at your window, casting a shadow on your bedroom floor. But you did hear the sharp knocks that came, jolting you out of your bed. The silhouette looked all too familiar that it made your stomach churn slightly in excitement. Your eyes confirmed your suspicion. It was him. You rushed to the window, all too eager to usher him inside. He walked passed you, taking a moment to reacquaint himself with your surroundings.

"Matt, what are you doing here?"

You wrapped an arm around yourself, shutting the glass pane so the cold night air wouldn't rush in.

"Did you miss me?"

Yes, you did. You missed his smooth, deep voice that always provided great comfort to you. You missed the way his body moulded to yours, fitting so perfectly. You missed the cuddles afterwards, the warm embraces before sunrises. 

"No."

He stalked towards you, and you saw the slight tilt to his gait that you didn't notice at first. 

"I can tell that you're lying. I thought you knew me better than this."

You slowly backed away, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself.

"I don't think I ever knew you at all. It's been a while since our last …."

Your voice grew smaller as you trailed off in a nagging uncertainty about what you were. You couldn't bring yourself to ask out of fear that it would imperil what you had, and Matt never brought it up. In the end, you came to the acceptance that you had an arrangement, one without a name.

"Aww, so you did miss me."

Matt stepped closer, towering over you and pulling you into his arms. You were stunned at his sudden want for proximity, and you let him hold you, silently cursing yourself for giving in so easily. He grazed his nose along the column of your throat, nipping and kissing at the delicate skin. His hand came to stroke your neck, guiding your head back to his will for better access. You could only offer a shaky whisper for an answer, holding your breath as quietly as you could.

"... no, I did not."

His hand on your throat tightened slightly, making you gasp. It wasn't enough to hurt, just enough to restrict your movement, holding you in place. He whispered along the cut of your jawline, just below your ear, his voice deep and his message clear.

"You're going to regret that."

In a split second, Matt picked you up bridal style, stalking towards the bed with you writhing in his arms. He gently dropped you onto the sheets before joining you. You crawled backwards as he followed. Your heart picked up its rhythm as you felt a subtle rush of thrill running down your spine. But you didn't want to give in to him just yet. You wanted Matt to be aware of your pent-up frustration after all the nights he didn't come to you. So you pushed at his chest, showing your displeasure. Not only did Matt not budge, but he also used the movement against you. His own hands came up to seize at your wrists, pinning them down to either side of your head. You were trapped between his muscular thighs. You squirmed in his hold, but there was no use. You could do nothing but burn a hole in his head with your glare, hoping he would sense your deadly stare. Yet, your heart betrayed you. It careened into a string of irregular rhythm at the skewed mask on his face, allowing one of his eyes to peek through under the hem. The familiar sight of his unseeing eye greeted you, along with a hint of mischief in the smirk that belonged to the long list of your weaknesses when it came to him. 

You could only watch as Matt dipped his head to your level, catching your lips in his. You engaged in a clash of teeth and lips. He feasted on you as if you were his next breath, as if he … missed you. You gasped at the intensity of the kiss, allowing Matt to slip his tongue inside, pulling you into a familiar dance you had done many times before. You felt yourself melting under him, his scent intoxicating you, your arms going lax in his firm yet gentle clasp. In your final attempt at being stubborn and disobedient, your teeth bit on his bottom lip and pulled, making Matt reel back with a grunt, releasing his hold on you.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched him touching a hand to his lips. Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, tasting the tang of iron on your tongue. In the low light from the window, you saw the smear of blood between his fingers. You bit the cut on his bottom lip open. His blood was on your tongue, and you couldn't help but feel concerned; you weren't sure what would happen next.

Matt heaved softly, causing the red ichor to fall slowly from the cut. It wasn't deep or serious, but it was one of those pesky wounds that could keep bleeding until it stopped on its own. You watched as he gathered more blood on his index and middle fingers before slowly bringing them to your face. 

Your eyes widened since you weren't sure if you were seeing things right. But the warmth and wetness of Matt's fingers were there on your trembling lips. Matt smeared his blood across your mouth, over the edge of your bottom lip, trailing off at your jaw when there wasn't anything left. You held your breath, studying the stillness in his posture, his hand lingering on your face.

The fleeting moment passed, Matt came back to you, and you stayed still as he erased your distance. After an agonizing wait, his lips finally brushed against yours. The touch was tentative at first, as if he wasn't entirely certain about what he was doing. You pushed the kiss further, deepening it, and your frustration with his absence faded into the back of your mind. The blood you tasted filled your senses, and you felt drunk on him. Your mind was engulfed in a hazy fog, going into overdrive over the sensuality of it. You felt like you were sharing something sacred, sealing a deadly deal, signing your soul away. In the sweeping current of bliss and the tranquil air afterwards, you knew it was something you were willing to do with the devil before you, who had made it his mission to make it up to you for the time he was gone. 

You briefly parted, breathing hard. Matt took off his own clothes as you shrugged out of yours. You held your hands out to hold him, preventing him from advancing, when you saw the white gauze wrapped across his ribs slowly turning to a crimson red.  

"Matt, stop. You're injured."

Your hand grazed over the edge of the damp fabric, and Matt, wanting to distract you, took your wandering hand and laid open-mouthed kisses all over.

"I'm fine, just kiss me. I'll lose it if we stop."

He swiftly shut out your protest, sealing his lips with yours. Your limbs tangled, and the brisk yet careful friction of skin against skin made your core clench around nothing, begging for his aching cock that was hard and aching on your thigh. He hooked your legs to wrap around his slim waist and wasted no time plunging his cock into your weeping cunt. You let out a piercing cry in bliss, and before you could calm down from the intrusion, he set at a rhythm that unravelled you like a loose stitch. Matt burrowed his face into the crook of your neck, and you wound your arms around his shoulders. He rocked into you as if this was your first and last time being together, pure desperation and need. All you could do was hang on to his broad shoulders, your nails raked over the subtle definition. The drags of his cock drew out moans and meaningless babble from your mouth. Your mind blanked out, and all you could think of was him; all you could feel was his cock rubbing against your inner wall, hitting that spot inside of you that made your toes curl, made your core clench harder onto his length. The throaty grunts were like his earnest praises as you squeezed him hard. And he kept pushing and pushing, to the point where the injury on his abdomen cried tears of scarlet agony. 

You managed to utter your concern through the seam of your lips, between breathy moans and choked gasps.

"You're… you're bleeding."

Matt slowed himself down to a stop with visible effort, and you had to hold back the whine that escaped your throat. He ripped the gauze in half, throwing the bloody cloth to the floor, revealing the injury underneath. It looked quite fresh, about one to two days old, and it was bleeding steadily. The red drops dripped down his torso and onto yours. Before you could push him away to find something to stop the bleeding, he took your hand and put it on top of the open wound. His voice was husky, full of tease. And challenge.

"You were mad at me, weren't you? Punish me then."

You blinked, not quite registering his request.

"What? No! I … I can't."

He forced your fingers to press harder on his wound, making you gasp. Matt hissed at the sharp pain, yet, the smirk on his face spoke true of his unalloyed satisfaction.

"Go on. You know what to do. Hurt me."

You didn't know what to say in return. You could only stare. There was not a hint of regret or uncertainty coming from Matt. You understood what Matt wanted, but did you want the same thing? No matter how angry you were at him, you would never hurt him out of vindictiveness. Yet, a part of you called out, reminding you of the fact that at this point in your arrangement, you would always conform to him as if his needs were yours. Still, another part of you wanted him to suffer, just a little bit. It didn't hurt that he gave you the green light to go for it. 

You hesitantly pushed on his wound, prodding at the edge. More blood seeped out and ran onto your fingers, warm and hungry for the new expanse. Matt's face was a mix of pain and pleasure; the smile on his face assured you that he was okay, that he was more than enjoying this. He grunted roughly as he picked up the pace, his cock throbbing inside your dripping cunt. Your blissed cries were ripped out from your throat. You panted heavily, revelling in the new gratification.

"This is for … ignoring … me."

It was half whimper, half growl, which only seemed to encourage him to go feral. He was ruthless now, pounding into you like he wanted to ruin you for anyone else. Your broken screams echoed between the walls of your bedroom, unrestrained and uncontainable, for his thick girth in your tight cunt was too much. Your hand still splayed over his wound, feeling the flow of substance running onto your hand steadily. More throaty moans spilled from his mouth, and the sweat on his forehead trailed down, embracing the beautiful frame of his face. You brought your blood-stained hand away from his wound, and he whined in protest. You didn't know what made you do what you did next, blame it on the spur of the moment, but you had never been more pleased with yourself for what your little action inspired. 

You ran the bloody hand over your chest and neck, smearing the stickiness on your skin. For a moment, his thrusts faltered. Matt took it all in with his sense despite the rattling in his chest. Your panting, your wild heartbeat, the way you splayed out underneath him, adorning an invisible muslin of sweat and blood, and he lost his mind. The scent of his blood was all over you like a mark, like a declaration that you only belonged to him and him. That you proudly wore his blood, your devotion endless. 

His arm snaked under and around your upper back to cushion your neck, and his hand settled on your shoulder, pulling your hips towards his hard thrusts. Brute force and unrestrained fervour, it wasn't that different from what you were doing before, but you felt it. A piercing scream was ripped away from you, so raw and primal that your throat hurt; tears gathered in your eyes. You cried from the acute pleasure he bestowed upon you, the intenseness you had never felt with anyone else. Matt was moaning with abandon; his deep guttural sounds were almost animalistic as his hips pistoned into you. His fingers carved bruises onto your hip, pulling and pushing you towards the edge that was within reach. The orgasm crashed into you, loosening the knot in your belly. Your core clenched hard on him, triggering his own release. He finished deep inside you, filling you up after ropes and ropes of cum. The post-orgasmic daze felt endless as Matt slowed his strokes before coming to a stop. He stayed seated inside, and you felt his release spill out of your cunt, following the curve of your ass cheeks and dripping onto the damp sheets below. Matt dropped his full weight on you, and you welcomed it with a tired mewl. His dark hair tickled your sweat-soaked skin, creating a pleasant, welcoming feeling after he had just fucked your brains out. Your hand skimmed his torso and found the wound. You gave it a tentative touch, feeling the clammy mix of sweat and blood, and he exclaimed softly through a breathy exhale. You brushed the wet strands of hair away from his forehead, pressing a kiss to his sweaty temple. 

"Let me patch you up before you bleed to death on my sheets."

He grumbled, falling onto the side and holding himself up with one arm to temporarily free you from his weight. 

"I'm sorry … about your sheets."

You shook your head, your chuckle lighthearted and free. 

"Saying sorry's not going to be enough. You're gonna buy me new ones." 

He nodded tiredly; an easy smile brightened his face, emphasizing the faint wrinkles you adored. 

"Deal. And then we can do that all over the new sheets again."

His casual remark dropped a weight in your stomach like an anvil to the bottom of the ocean. You were glued to the edge of the bed; your mind worked its way out of the post-orgasm fog to poke at your prideful ego, reminding you of how he had disappeared on you without a word. Your hands held onto the ruined sheets, your head dipped slightly. And when you spoke, your voice was low and small, but it couldn't soften the sharp puncture of your intention; the deadly point was forged by the simmering anger you didn't know you had.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Matthew."

He went impossibly still behind you, and you didn't need an enhanced sensitivity to know he didn't miss what you meant. You were worried about him, for you didn't know if he was alive or lying dead somewhere in Hell's Kitchen. You knew his first name, his face, his voice, and that wasn't enough for a man who could evade you like the passing wind on your cheeks. As much as you didn't want to admit it, it hurt.

A hand settled on your back, warm and a little clammy from the dried blood, and you shrugged yourself out of his comforting touch. You silently retrieved the box where you kept all of your medical necessities, which had grown in variety only because of him. You patched him up in silence, and when you were done, your prolonged reserve asked him for the distance he so generously gave you before. Matt tried to break your reticence many times, but you didn't want his explanation. You allowed yourself one last sentiment when he stood outside your window, casting his tall, imposing shadow on you.  

"Goodbye, Matthew. I hope this is the last time we see each other."

Before he could say anything else, you shut the door and turned your back on him. Despite the finality in your conviction, your heart betrayed you with its wild and chaotic beats as if it knew this wouldn't be the last time you saw him. But for the moment, when you cast one last glance over the fire escape, you found no one.

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!*

[dylanletmesyd]

Every Relationship Start With Trust-By DylanLetMeSyd on Ao3

The sky lit up for a split second, lighting flashing through the clouds. Rain pattered against Theo's window and the wind whipped around the trees hard. It was around 1 am and Theo was dead asleep, snoring softly. His muscles still ached from the practice he had that evening, still sore from the ball to the collar by Liam.

The buzzing of his phone awoke him, the electronic lighting up the dark room. Theo grabbed it, wincing at the brightness, before turning it down and reading the text that was sent to him. 

Liam

'I'm scared.'

Theo was on his feet instantly, already putting his shoes and jacket on. He didn't know what Liam meant by 'Scared', but it didn't seem good. He grabbed his skateboard, umbrella, and a blanket—making sure it was the one Liam always used whenever he slept over. He was out of the house, skating towards Liam's house quickly. The beta didn't live too far from Theo, just a few blocks down. 

Theo checked his phone for any new messages, sadly nothing. He had a gut feeling that Liam's text had something to do with the thunderstorms, since he was deathly afraid of them. But normally he would just blast music in his ears or sleep in his parents bed when that happened. So why was he texting Theo?

The silhouette of the beta's house approached and Theo skated just a tad faster. When he reached the front lawn he sprinted to the door, key in hand. Liam had given him his own key a while back, a way of saying he trusted Theo more than anyone else. The Chimera used that key, shoving the metal into the key lock with shaky hands. 

He unlocked and opened the door, now at home. His skateboard was propped up on the wall by the porch and the umbrella was hung somewhere on the coat rack. Theo took the stairs 2 steps at a time, making sure to avoid the noisy spots. When he reached Liam's room, he stood staring at the door. Small sobs were heard from the other side, along with some sniffles.

The horrible gut feeling only got worse for Theo. He felt invasive, like he was interrupting something he should've left alone. After a small pep talk in his mind, he pushed the door open. What he saw broke his heart.

Liam sat in his bed with his knees up to his chest, leaning against the headboard with the blanket covering him. He had his arms wrapped around his knees and his face was buried into his sleeves. That normally pissed off face was now flowing tears and fear covered it. When he heard the door open he stilled for a moment, before he saw Theo and returned to his crying.

Theo slowly walked over to Liam's bed, not wanting to scare the Beta. "Liam? You okay?" he asked.

Liam shook his head no, a broken sound leaving his throat. Deciding it was the best thing he could do for his friend, Theo crawled onto the bed and sat next to Liam, angled so he could see the boy. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close to his chest. Liam didn't even fight, which only broke Theo more. 

The boy continued crying, only this time harder. He then turned around and wrapped his arms tightly around the Chimera's torso. Even if it was a small action, it felt like Liam completely trusted Theo that he wasn't going to judge him in this state.

"Let it out Liam, let it all out." Theo cooed to the boy. He placed small kisses on the boy's head, a silent way of saying it was okay and that he was here. Then Theo leaned back so he could lay in Liam's bed with his head on his chest.

They stayed in that position until Liam's sobs turned into small sniffles and his uneven breathing turned into small sighs. When he finally calmed down, Theo asked: "Why'd you text me that?"

Liam didn't respond right away, but he finally replied after another long sigh. "I had a nightmare."

"A nightmare?" Theo repeated, now worried but also curious.

"About you—Well, us, technically."

"Tell me about it Li." Even if it was the dumbest or most gruesome thing Theo would ever hear, he would be glad that Liam could trust him enough to tell him.

"You left." Liam stated.

"Left from what?"

"Me, then Beacon Hills."

"Oh" was all that Theo could say to that. He knew it wasn't a dumb fear, but Liam has had some abandonment issues over the years and it got worse ever since Scott didn't help him. "Well you know I wouldn't actually leave, Liam, right?" He hoped this could lift Liam up even a little bit.

"Yeah I hope not. I don't want you to leave, ever." He played with Theo's shirt, tugging and twisting the fabric in his hands. "I know it's just a nightmare, but it feels so fucking real I—"

"Liam." Theo interrupted. He rolled over so he was above Liam, his arms on either side so the beta was trapped. "I'm not leaving, no matter what happens I will not leave you." 

It took that little for Liam's face to crinkle into hurt and tears to slip once again. Theo swiped the tears away with his thumb, a small smile on his face. "I feel so weak for thinking this. For believing it no less." the beta exclaimed in anger. 

Without thinking, Theo grabbed his friend's hand and placed it where he heart was. "Listen to my heartbeat when I speak Liam."

The beta closed his eyes, focusing on his heartbeat. It was steady at the moment, like it would continue to be.

"I love you too much to leave you. No girl—or boy—can charm me enough to leave your side. You're all I have, and that's more than enough for me." 

When Liam opened his eyes, Theo saw yellow with a hint of pink. 

Love.

"You love me?" Liam asked.

Theo grinned. "If you were a star, I would devote my life to being an astronomer so I could understand your beauty." It was risky, but Theo knew his next action wouldn't hurt either of them. He brought his lips to Liam's, kissing him softly.

Liam tasted of pumpkin pie and cinnamon, the hint of salt from his tears lingered on his lips. Theo had never wanted something—someone—so badly than he had with Liam. The boy was a drug that Theo would be okay taking. Liam stilled for a moment, but then he contributed to the kiss, their flavours of pumpkin and lemon mixing together. 

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a really good kisser?" Liam asked.

"That would make you the first." Theo replied with a laugh. 

Seriously, Liam tasted like actual heaven. If Theo could stay here and kiss Liam for the rest of his life he would, and he wouldn't have a single complaint. They kissed for what felt like hours but it was really only a few minutes. Hands began to roam bodies, and before they knew it so were their pants. 

The bed creaked against the floor as Theo praised Liam's body in many different ways. When they finished the heated session, Theo fell back on the bed, tired from all the energy he used. Liam was curled up against his side, drawing little shapes on his abs. 

"Can I ask you something?" Liam whispered, so quiet that Theo was surprised he even heard part of it.

"Anything."

Liam stayed quiet for a moment, before speaking so quiet that Theo had to use his Chimera hearing to get the sentence. 

"Will you stay with me during these storms, or when I feel like I'm going to have a nightmare."

The question broke Theo's heart into a million pieces. His face hurt from the grin he had, but he kissed Liam on the forehead and looked him in the eyes. "Whenever, wherever Li."

Liam smiled back at the Chimera, now content and no longer afraid. He knew Theo was important to him from the start, it was just the pull he felt towards the boy. But he didn't expect any of the kissing or sex to become involved—not that he was complaining, he'd take that stuff any day. All this stuff, the custom house keys, hand holding for reassurance, looks of trust, all meant the same thing. 

They had a bond that no one could break, even god himself. They would find each other anywhere, even in fear, even in death.

[junisfics]

All This Time — Armin Arlert (1)

series masterlist

Pairing: Armin Arlert x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Series Summary: Reader messages her best friend Armin late one night while she's drunk and needy, but will she remember the things she said to him in the morning, and if she does... will she regret it?

Part Summary: After Armin receives a disturbingly vague message from his best friend, he shows up to her house only to find her drunk and needy

Content: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Content Warnings: Sexual Content, Mentions of Masturbation, Sexual Fantasies

You met Armin in your freshman year of high school. You had gone to separate middle schools, but those two schools fed into your then high school and you became classmates. You shared a band class together, Armin played clarinet and you played the piano. The entire band was split between two periods, you and Armin’s seventh period consisted of woodwinds while the other period held brass… percussion was split evenly between the two periods. 

That was the first game of chance.

The second one was after-school practice sessions with Mr. Steunberg. Apparently, Armin was struggling with sight-reading just as much as you were, so you were paired together for practice lessons on Mondays. And every Monday for the second semester of freshman year, you and Armin played your instruments in that little sound booth while your music teacher corrected you from outside.

Eventually, the twenty minutes between the end of school and the beginning of lessons was being shared between the two of you rather than each of you hiding off down some hallway. You had decided to come down the band hall early, conveniently at the same time Armin had as well. 

It started with one of you asking if the other had a certain teacher, followed by asking if they had completed the night’s assignment for that class. Over time, the floor distance between you two closed and you’d sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor just outside the booth, knee to knee, sharing snacks before Mr. Steunberg made his way from his History class and down to the band hall. You’d work on homework together and laugh over the squeaking mistakes from the neighboring booths.

Just around the time when you and Armin began to grow comfortable with each other, your organized lessons had stopped and your blooming friendship had been put on pause. Neither of you missed it too much, you barely knew each other, but you still smiled at each other in the halls and occasionally talked before your shared class if there was time, but there really wasn’t.

It was like that for a while; little waves, sentence-long conversations, awkward silences followed by equally as awkward good-byes. It was months before you ever talked the same way you had in that little hallway.

It wasn’t like you craved his presence. Christ, you would completely forget about him if you didn’t see him every day in class. But when he came up to you at the end of the day one day while you were sitting on the piano bench, waiting for the final bell to ring, you couldn’t help but smile.

You still remember the shirt he was wearing, how he pushed those thin-rimmed glasses he still wore up his nose as he talked with you, “Can you help me with sight-reading? I don’t wanna tell my mom I need lessons again and I’m embarrassed to ask anyone else.”

Of course, you had said yes to him, you wouldn’t be pulling your phone out in the middle of the night in the peak of summer to text him while you’re shit-faced to text him if you hadn’t.

Your practicing together turned into practicing and doing homework together, which turned into getting off track and watching YouTube videos together. Then came the hanging out outside of homework and lessons; goofing off at either of your neighborhood parks, walking down the road to get fast-food, running around in a grocery store because there was nothing else to do in the suburbs.

There wasn’t an exact moment where you agreed that you were best friends, it just happened. You were always there for him whenever he got pushed around by the baseball boys, when his parents got divorced and his grandfather moved in, when he got his acceptance letter to the college of his choice; and he was there for you for your first boyfriend and your first heartbreak, he was there when your dog was lost for five days… he being the one that found her, and when you got your acceptance letter, he was the one sitting next to you with open arms.

There were moments when you found yourselves distancing; when you got into little arguments. But at the end of the day, the love that each of you had for each other was stronger than anything. You always came back to him, and he to you. 

No matter how many times you broke his heart by flirting with him just to hook up with some random guy at a party the same day, told him that he was your ‘best friend’, talking about how he was ‘like a brother’ to you, he couldn't leave you and he couldn’t stop loving you.

Armin would do anything for you and you would do anything for Armin. This is why when he got your messages in the dead of the night, he was over to your apartment before he could even text back.

‘armin’ ‘come over’ ‘help’ ‘need help’

Every second between the moment he got your messages until he reached your door, he was mortified. His heart was pounding out of his chest, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering while swerving around corners recklessly, eyes flitting over your parking lot to try and find anything out of the ordinary.

He almost tripped on the curb of the sidewalk while running up to your building. He was whipping open doors and frantically pressing elevator buttons as his keys still jangled in his hands, he didn’t even think to shove them into his pockets. His eyes bore into the red, electric lettering at the frame of the elevator, watching the numbers increase with his hand pressing against the metal doors like it’ll somehow make it go faster.

Once he reaches your door, he knocks frantically, jolts of pain shooting through his knuckles as he does so.

And you’re right at the door waiting for him. You tug it open the second you hear him outside of it, a giant smile of relief on your face.

“Oh my god! Thank god you’re here! I was going to pass out from waiting so long,” You giggle, grabbing ahold of his forearm that was still outstretched from knocking and pulling him inside.

It took him a moment to realize that you’re alright, that you’re standing right there in front of him, unharmed and unscathed, with his sweatshirt pulled over you, the one he gave you before leaving for university. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you grab at his arms to bring him forward, stumbling back over your own feet in the process which just sends you into another fit of giggles.

You had a slight sheen of sweat over your face and neck, not a lot, just enough so when your head turned to look behind you the kitchen lights bounced against the gloss on your skin. You didn’t have pants on as well, just these light grey boy-short panties that completely exposed the length of your legs.

It wasn’t like Armin hasn’t seen you in a swimsuit before. Many times your parents had taken you on trips to a lake where you would go tubing and swimming for hours on end until you were both drained of all your energy. But seeing you in, presumably, nothing but his sweatshirt and panties that bared your thighs and bottom curves of your ass had him far more flabbergasted than a swimsuit ever could.

“You’re — you’re okay?” He asks, voice still wavering with concern as you continue to drag him towards the kitchen.

“Absolutely not!” You sound serious, “I need help… with making my dessert.” Your faux serious tone falls apart and you’re choking back another wave of laughter.

Armin watches you incredulously but intently as you slide your hands down his forearms until both of your hands meet his own, giving them a squeeze before spinning around and gripping the kitchen island’s counter.

You have an array of stainless steel bowls crowded beside each other while a mixture of dry baking goods sits unstirred in one of the bowls. You shuffle through the measuring cups and spoons before picking up a large wooden spoon and holding it up to Armin, presenting it to him, like you’ve found a block of gold.

When you turn away from him, he looks over the state of the kitchen. Sugar and flour remnants cover the countertops, series of baking instruments litter them as well, and on the kitchen table is a bottle of vodka.

And then it hits him; you’re playful nature, unpredictability, clumsiness, and intimacy.

“Are you drunk?” He asks you. He isn’t disappointed, or angry, just slightly taken aback.

You bring your head up from the bowl and tilt your head side to side like you were thinking over his question, “A little.”

It was much more than ‘a little’. Before you had even started drinking you were in a playful mood. You had just gotten the offer for a summer job for lifeguarding at the apartment complex’s pool and you thought to celebrate by binging your favorite television show and having a few shots. Then, a few shots turned to many and you were dancing around your living room while having the time of your life before you had settled on making yourself some food. ‘Another celebration’ you had convinced yourself.

But the measuring and the mixing were too hard and who else was there to call other than your best friend?

“Oh my god.” Armin smiles, shaking his head at you and making his way towards you as you continue to mix at god-knows-what you’ve put into that bowl, “You need actual food, not whatever you’re making here.”

You let go of the spoon, letting out a little huff of frustration at his words, scrunching your nose real cutely as you turn towards him. You take the front of his tee-shirt in your hands, gently fiddling with the fabric as you pout.

“I want dessert, Armin.” You whine, bringing your head forward to rest your cheek on his chest. Your chest was pressing against his torso, bare legs knocking against his own.

“’Tomorrow-You’ is going to thank me for not letting you have dessert.” He awkwardly brings one of his hands to your back, patting it a few times before letting his hand rest between your shoulder blades.

“Please?” You whisper, tilting your head up until he can feel your tiny breaths against his chin. Armin hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat begins to pick up in his chest at your close proximity.

“No… No, I’ll — I’ll make you toast or something, how does that sound?” He suggests, snaking his hands between the two of you to gently nudge you off him.

But the space between the two of you is quickly closed when your slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, “Don’t want toast.” You murmur, standing up on the tips of your toes to get in his eye-line. Your nose was only a breath away from his.

Armin carefully takes your wrists in his hands, taking your arms off him as he stammers out, “Well, you’re going to have toast.”

You let out another noise of frustration as you pull yourself away from him, your hands balling into fists at your sides while he pulls open your fridge for the loaf of bread on the top shelf. You watch him with your head tilted in fascination like you’ve never seen bread before, admiring the way his hair falls into his eyes as his pretty hands unwrap the plastic sleeve of the loaf then tug the toaster away from the counter backsplash.

He truly was so beautiful. You always contained your attraction towards him so well, but now your restraint was slipping.

You prance over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his back as he slides two slices of bread from the loaf. His skin is so warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders and back flex as he moves his arms, his abdominal muscles twitching as well in reaction to your fingertips skimming over them.

God, he’s so fucking nervous. 

Why is he so nervous? 

Because you’re all over him in just panties and his shirt when he’s had a crush on you for as long as he can remember. You’re being so touchy, so intimate with him, he’s afraid he might explode.

“Go sit down. Can’t — can’t help you if you’re in my way.” He says. Oh but he could help you, he could help you even if you were hanging on him like a spider monkey, he’s just afraid you’ll realize your effect on him if you do so.

“I just wanna be close to you. You’re so cute.” You nuzzle your head under his left arm until you and slip your whole body under it and stand ever so slightly in front of him, wedged between his torso and the countertop.

Your hands play with the hem of his shirt as you look up to him, your eyes glossy, and your pupils were blown. Armin tries his best to keep himself subtly distanced from you, but it’s no use. Every time he inches away, you’re just back on him. 

You’re sliding your hands up his chest, fingers tracing over his jaw and cheekbones as you cling to his side. He can feel your hips knocking against his, your thighs rubbing against his as you shift around to try and get closer. Your fingers follow along the curves of his neck, tracing down his throat then skimming over his collarbones.

“Sit here then. Sit on the counter.” Armin grabs ahold of your torso and pushes you against the counter, the edge of it rutting into the small of your back. You grab ahold of his biceps and let out a flirty little giggle at what his actions could be insinuating.

Your fingers press into the plush muscle of his arms as he strains to lift you, your heels grappling at the cabinets below you to try and aid him. His waist ends up slipped between your knees when you’re finally seated, and you can feel your body flush hot with arousal.

You were already sweating from the exertion you had put forward before he had arrived, but the added closeness with Armin was just driving you crazy.

“Now sit, and stay.” Armin places his hands in front of you to enforce his directions.

You giggle a few times, smiling at the fact that he’s treating you like a dog, “Woof.” 

Armin slips his waist out from your knees to come to your left slide, plucking the now toasted bread from the toaster and setting it on a napkin. He pulls open the drawer to his right for a butter knife, then snatches the butter from the island and brings it to your toast. 

His hands shake as he pulls the glass top of the butter dish, they shake as he dips the knife into the butter, and continues to shake as he spreads the butter over the first piece of toast. He can feel your thigh brushing against his hip as you swing your legs.

You begin to breathe heavier, the heat of exhaustion and heat of arousal begin to grow overwhelming. You fan your face a few times, pushing your hair off your neck, before grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it up and over your head.

“What — what are you doing?” Armin stammers, taking a tiny step away from you.

You absentmindedly fold the sweatshirt before setting it aside to fan your face again, “It’s so hot… I think it’s you, Armin.”

You can see his face flush red this time, his ears as well, turning his cheeks and nose a pretty pink shade that doesn’t help your problem.

Armin tries to ignore you, he really does, but it’s so difficult because now you’re in this skimpy little tank top with spaghetti straps. And the straps are slipping off your shoulders and Jesus fucking christ you’re not wearing a bra. He can’t stop his eyes from flitting over your scantily clad figure, drinking in the way your thighs squish against the counter, the curve of your ass as it’s pressed to the granite, the way your nipples tease the thin fabric of your skin.

“Have I ever told you that? That you’re so fine?” You giggle, running a finger down his bicep as he finishes buttering your toast. You’re so grateful that he’s got that stupid white tee shirt on, the one that keeps your gaze lingering over the lean muscle in his chest and back.

“Um, n — no. Toast is done, hop down.” He refuses to make eye contact because if he does, he’s scared he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you.

“Help.” You pout, reaching out your hands and grabbing for his shoulders.

Armin listens to your plea, setting the toast back down and grabbing ahold of your waist to slide you off the counter. But instead of bringing your feet to the floor, you wrap your legs around his waist and hook your arms around his neck. You have to tilt your head down to look into his eyes, only to see his pupils blown and lashes fluttering as he blinks.  He doesn’t push you off him. Instead, he uses his left hand to snatch the food off the counter while his right hand comes to brace your lower back. 

He’s afraid he’s going to have a heart attack now; feeling your thighs wrapped around him, your cunt hovering just right over his growing cock, your back arching your chest so close to his face that he swears if he looked down he would get a perfect view of your tits, your parted lips all glossy, breath fanning over the bridge of his nose as you run your fingers over the curves of his pretty pink lips.

Fuck. He was definitely getting off to this later.

You’re giggling all the while, and to an extent, you know exactly the effect you have on him. It’s cute, the way he stumbles around your house and trying to keep his footing as he brings you to your bedroom. 

“C’mon, Armin. At least take me on a date first,” You tease as he kneels down to bring your backside to the foot of the bed. Once your legs release his waist, he stands again.

“I’m — I’m not trying — we’re not —” He stutters, bringing his hands forward again like he’s scared you’ll pounce on him.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Armin wants nothing more in the entire world than to have you beneath him, to have his cock sheathed inside you, to have you moan out his name as you cum around his cock…

But he couldn’t let it happen like this.

You were drunk, so so drunk. And you probably didn’t even know what you were saying.

“We can if you want to.” You speak softly, your knees knocking together as you settle into your seat, fiddling with your hands in your lap as if you got all shy all of a sudden.

And when you look up to him through your lashes, brows furrowed slightly in a pout, Armin almost caves. But he catches himself just as fast, shoving your toast in front of you like it’s a shield.

Your eyes shift down to the food that’s presented before you, and your pout turns into a cute little smile as you daintily take it from his hands. You let the napkin rest in your left palm as you hold the food in your right, immediately taking a little bite out of it.

“You want some water?” Armin asks, still standing in front of you.

You give him a nod without looking up, taking another bite out of the toast while he fills up the cup that he knew rested beside your bathroom sink. As he stands in front of the mirror he takes a moment to breathe in and out deeply as the water fills the cup.

You were going to be the death of him.

“You know, I mean it when I say you’re attractive,” He hears you say, still sitting all obediently on your bed and waiting for him to return, “Everyone’s like, ‘oh Armin got so hot!’, but I always thought you were cute… you just got so — nnghh — in the past year.”

He returns with your glass of water, holding it out to you as you finish chewing. You take it from him gently, holding it in both your hands, careful not to drop it, as you take little sips.

He knew you were being irrational, but he truly hopes you mean what you say.

When you finish drinking, you pat your hand against the mattress as you set your cup to the floor. You want him close again, want the warmth he radiates both physically and spiritually. Armin listens to your ask and sits beside you carefully, running his hands over his thighs as you pull your legs up on the mattress and cross them under you.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You ask, voice getting tiny again.

That was real… that question… he’s so sure of it. You were always insecure about your looks when you had no reason to be, but he had no idea that you cared what he thought about you.

“I — um… I — I don’t think my — my opinion matt —” He tries to get it to come out sounding right, but the moment he opens his mouth he already knows he’s failed terribly.

“Do… do you not think I’m pretty?” He can hear the feeling of betrayal in your voice, you turn your head away from him.

“No! No, y/n, I think you’re really pretty —”

You grab ahold of his shirt collar and tug him towards you as you let your back fall to the mattress. His torso comes over you and his hand shoots out beside your head to keep him from falling atop you. He can’t even bring himself to pull off of you, because your noses are touching and he can feel your knees knocking against the left side of his waist.

“I — you’re — God, y/n you’re so pretty. Don’t ever think I don’t think that.” He breathes, trying so hard to your lips from touching, for his own sake.

Your mouth splits into a smile and a little laugh escapes your lips. Your free hand grabs ahold of his shirt as well, assuring both you and him that he isn’t going anywhere. You look down to his lips, slightly parted as he pants heavily to keep his composure.

“No, but you don’t understand,” You keep your eyes on his lips, fighting the desire to kiss him, “You’re so fucking hot.”

Armin’s breath gets caught in his throat because you had spoken that in a borderline whimper. Your bottom lip had been taken between your teeth after you finished speaking, and he swears he could see your back arch slightly.

It was completely visible now, how much you needed him. You were holding onto him for dear life, your thighs were squeezing together and your arched back had your stomach brushing against his. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, irises filled with lust and hunger.

Armin’s so grateful that your legs are to his side and now wrapped around his waist again because he would not have been able to stop himself from grinding down against you… it would have been completely involuntary.

“And — and don’t tell anyone this but sometimes… sometimes I get off to you,” You bring your voice to a whisper as you reveal your secret, lifting your head to move closer to him. He can feel your lips brush against his as you speak, “Actually... like all the time.”

Armin lets out an audible exhale, his jaw slacking at your revelation, he has to shut his eyes again.

“Do you get off to me too?” You ask. And you speak like you didn’t just reveal that to him, bringing your head back down to the mattress and smiling.

Of course he does. Of course he does. 

Junior year of high school you offered to be his first kiss, just for fun, ‘cause you were friends, right? And you wanted to help him get it over with. 

But every night since then, Armin has gotten off to you; laid back in his bed with his cock in his fist, and whispering your name as he cums.

“I — we’re best friends — y/n, I —”

“Best friends don’t wanna fuck each other, Armin.” You say, your voice losing all its playfulness and growing serious like you had suddenly become sober.

You stare into his pretty blue eyes for a moment, letting your own flit between the two of his. You were watching for any change in his expression, any look of disgust or repulsion, but you don’t find any. He just keeps that same incredulous, lust-filled look on his face.

He looks over you as well. Your eyes were still so droopy and hazy, your lips parted like you’re manually breathing. You were so drunk that it almost hurt him. You weren’t going to remember a single thing in the morning, and the two of you would be back to square one because Armin would never be able to repeat to you what you said to him or admit his searing desire for you.

Armin can feel your grip on his shirt tighten once more, and instead of lifting your head to him, you pull him down to you.

“I need you,” You whisper, voice shaking with arousal, “Fuck me... please.”

Armin swallows hard, his arms beginning to shake under his weight. He was going to fucking explode. He needed a break, just a moment, anything so he can catch his breath and regain some of his composure.

Christ, he was so fucking hard. If you were sober, he wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to rip off both of your clothes and push his cock inside you.

“I can’t — you’re drunk,” He murmurs, and you can hear the hurt in his voice. You can hear the fact that he truly wanted to do what you begged him for.

“No, Armin, I want it. I need it. I mean it, I swear.” You plead, your hands pawing at his shirt like he was attempting to get away from you and you wanted him to stay. But Armin was set put, he wasn’t moving, he couldn’t move even if he wanted.

“I need your cock.”

“Not — not now. You need to sleep this off. You’re… you’re not yourself right now,” He takes his eyes off yours, closing them once more and squeezing them shut.

“I’ve — I’ve always wanted you though. Always, I promise.” You continue, hoping that somehow you’ll convince him.

It was true. You wish he could understand how true it was. All the guys you had gotten with after-parties, after football games… they were all just replacements, they were fill-ins for him. You would pretend that it was him that was filling you up, gripping your hips and whispering dirty things against your ear. And for seconds at a time, it would work and you would convince yourself that Armin was right there with you.

And every time you would see him helping another girl with school work, see them flirting with him and getting touchy with him, playing with his glasses or drawing shapes on his hands with a pen… this disgusting feeling would churn around in your stomach and bubble up into your throat. And although Armin was oblivious to their flirting, it still hurt so fucking bad.

“I’ve always wanted you too… just — just not like this. Just sleep it off, okay? And — and then we’ll talk.” His left hand wraps around your waist while his right switches to brace beside your head. He grabs ahold of your torso and shimmies you up the bed until your head meets the pillow.

He sits back on his calves, his left arm sliding out from under you while his right hand brushes your messy hair out of your face before petting your head.

“And, and you’ll fuck me in the morning?” You ask, completely genuine.

Armin swallows hard again, pulling himself away from you and helping you slide your body under your sheets, “If — if you still want me to.”

You look up to him with your eyes full of admiration as he smoothes the sheets over your body, “I’ll always want you to.”

It comes out sounding much more intimate than it actually is to say that ‘you’ll always want Armin to fuck you’. And Armin lets his eyes meet yours again, matching the love that’s filled them.

He smiles to hide the doubt he has inside his chest. In the morning, you’ll either regret every word and ghost him or you’ll forget everything you’ve admitted. Both options made Armin’s heart hurt, but he decides that you leaving him would be the worst of the two. He wouldn’t know what to do if you’d never talk to him again. So for now, he truly hopes you forget.

Armin pulls his hands away from you, shuffling his knees on the bed to get off of it. But before he can bring his feet to the ground, you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Stay, please.” You ask, your eyes struggling to stay open. He wonders if you even know that you’re talking.

He listens to you anyway, bringing his hand down to the mattress as he slips himself under the sheets and next to you. And if he wasn’t sure about staying before, he sure was now because you were so warm and so soft as you shimmied back against him. You take his arm and sling it over your waist, letting his palm splay out over your stomach. You can feel every rise of his chest against your back.

You were going to doze off so easily, he was so warm, he was so comforting. You could feel sleep beginning to creep up on you quickly. But before you let it take over, you slide your hand back and between your bodies to grab the source of the hard thing poking into your ass.

“You’re so hard,” You giggle.

Armin chokes on his breath again and grabs your wrist to pull your hand off his dick, “Stop. Go — go to bed.”

You listen this time, retracting your hand to slip it over his that rests on your stomach, interlacing your fingers as you succumb to your exhaustion.

[adoringhaikyuu]

when you hang out with their best friend/teammate without them | 2

characters: suna, akaashi, tsukishima

request: can we get the when you hang out with their best friend/teammate without them for suna akaashi and tsuki?

warnings: nothing, just some kissing and a few possessive boys

notes: ahh my first request!! i’m happy that i wrote something that someone wanted more of haha <3

part one | part two

akaashi:

akaashi likes to have his shit together and he often overthinks things

which is why after concluding that if he finished all his work in one go he’d have more time to hangout with you, he decided to do exactly that

you offered to stay with him while he worked but he knew that you’d end up distracting him (not in a bad way or anything) and that he most likely wouldn’t finish his work on time

so you were temporarily banned from his place until he was done

but you were bored and pouty so you complained to bokuto, knowing he would understand your over-exaggerated reaction

he texted you immediately ‘whaaattt ?? i’m coming over right now!!!’

he showed up ten minutes later to your house, snacks in hand, ready to keep you company and playfully complain about your boyfriend and his best friend 

he insisted on sending him snaps of the two of you pouting at the camera, ‘how could you abandon this cute face, akaashi???’

his arm was wrapped around you and his face was smushed against yours but honestly he didn’t mean to make akaashi jealous, he was just being himself, completely playful and dramatic 

akaashi wasn’t planning on opening the messages since bokuto was always spamming him but when he took a five minute break, he opened them just in case they were important today 

when he saw his best friend practically cuddling you, his brows furrowed and a scowl made it’s way onto his face

since you and bokuto weren’t exactly expecting a response from akaashi, you went on to do other things, showing each other tik toks, and just chatting while you waited for him to finish up. 

it was about ten minutes later that you both heard the doorbell ring. you and bokuto both turned to each other, confused.

“did you order food?” you asked.

“no, i was gonna ask if you did? cause i’m starving––”

“well then who’s that...” you muttered to yourself as you got up to answer the door, bokuto cowering behind you, mumbling about if it was a murderer, phone in hand, ready to call the cops. you can imagine your surprise when you opened the door to find your boyfriend standing there, a scary serious look on his face. 

you blinked in shock, but before you could say anything, bokuto stepped in front of you. “hey hey hey! took you long enough buddy! i was keeping y/n company while you banned her from your house. how could you do that by the way––ow!”

your eyes widened as akaashi smacked bokuto’s head. “shut up bokuto. you can go now.”

bokuto pouted dramatically, “aw what?? we were about to order food,” he turned back to you. “right y/n?” 

suddenly the boy was yanked back and out of the house, a yelp jumping from his throat abruptly and akaashi was standing next to you. “you have food at your own house, why don’t you go there.” he shut the door without another word and turned to face you, ignoring the whining on the other side of the door. 

“what––what are you doing here?” you looked up at him, confused and slightly in awe as he placed his hands on your cheeks and tilted your head to look up at him, his thumbs rubbing your skin gently. 

“wanted to be with you.” he gave you a small smile but you responded with an adorable confused pout.

“but what about your work––”

“i’ll just do it tomorrow, it is saturday after all.” 

“hey when i said that you still insisted on working.” you pursed your lips and narrowed your eyes curiously. “was it because bokuto was here?” 

he looked away, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

you laughed. “you know you’re a terrible liar when it comes to me.” 

he slid his hands down to your arms and placed them around his neck before gripping your waist under your shirt. you gasped softly at the feeling of his fingertips against your skin and he smirked down at you. he leaned in until his lips were grazing yours. “again, i have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

before you could even think of a response, his hands were pulling you flush against him and his lips were on yours, taking your breath away. you moaned into the kiss and he groaned, his fingertips digging into your skin as he slid his tongue into your mouth expertly.

just as you got lost in his touch, you heard a small voice from outside. “so are you guys gonna let me back in?”

suna:

so suna is a lazy boy, we know that

and he likes to nap a lot

sometimes he’s just so tired that he forgets to text you before he naps

and today you’re supposed to hang out with him but around 3pm he stopped answering, so you knew he was taking his usual afternoon nap and if you went by his place, he wouldn’t be able to answer the door

so you decided to go out and get some snacks on the way to his house, planning to take your sweet time and let your boy rest

by coincidence, you ran into atsumu at the shop and he insisted on staying with you... and eating some of suna’s snacks 

it’s about a little while later that you make your way over to suna’s place, texting him to make sure he’s awake

when suna opened his door, the subtle smile dropped from his face when he realized you’re not alone. he raised a brow and looked over to his friend, “i don’t remember inviting you.” 

you pursed your lips, scolding your boyfriend’s bluntness. “suna–”

atsumu shrugged, a grin on his face. “i was keeping your girl company and thought i’d be a gentleman and walk her over here.” 

suna raked his eyes over atsumu lazily, clearly unamused. “yeah thanks. you can go now.” 

the blonde pouted dramatically. “oh what? come on, you’re not gonna invite me in?” he put his arm around you and gave you puppy dog eyes. “come on y/n, convince him for me?” 

you managed to turn for a split second to realize how close he had gotten to you before you were pulled out of his arms and into the warmth of the house. you blinked and suddenly you were under suna’s arm, facing a wide-eyed atsumu. 

next thing you know, the door was shutting in his face. you turned to suna and he simply shrugged and took the bag from your hands. “you brought snacks,” he smirked. “you’re the best.” he put it down on the table and tilted his head as he looked down at you curiously, trying to seem nonchalant, but his narrowed eyes gave him away. “why were you with him?” 

you tried to hide your smirk as you answered him. “went to get you some snacks while you were asleep and ran into him at the shop.”

his eyes reduced down to slits as he watched the playful look in your eyes. “why?” you smiled. “were you jealous?” 

he walked over to you slowly and slid his hand up to your neck, gripping it softly but firmly as he tilted your head up towards him. he made a show of trailing his eyes down from yours to your lips and keeping them there, making your breath hitch in anticipation. 

“less talking, more moaning.” he pressed his lips against yours possessively and had you melting and giving in immediately. whatever he wants, he gets. you knew that better than anyone.

tsukishima:

if you don’t believe that tsuki is a dry texter or that he would leave your ass on delivered for several days––i have some news for you

so let’s say it’s a saturday afternoon and while normally you hang out with tsuki basically every weekend, you also know that he was in a pissy mood earlier so you let him cool off

you text him after a little while, asking if you could come over in the middle of your usual tik tok spam and he opens the text, only to leave you on read (only seeing the tik toks, not the actual message)

you just brush it off, thinking he’s still in a mood and decide to find someone else to hangout with

that person just so happens to be tadashi

you two had gotten closer ever since you started dating tsuki so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to spend time together

it’s just that normally it would you, tadashi and tsuki

so you can imagine your boyfriend’s surprise when he opens snap to see you and his best friend smiling on your story

he frowns but tries not to let it get to him (spoiler, he fails)

when an hour has passed by and you still haven’t texted him or anything he gives in and messages you first, a blunt ‘when are you coming.’ 

you take that as a sign that he finally wants you to come over and since you and tadashi were ready to wrap things up, you make your way over to your boyfriend’s house

almost as soon as you knock on the door, it’s pulled open and you look up to see tsuki looking down at you, his brow raised. it’s silent for a few seconds and you tilt your head in confusion, why did he look annoyed?

before you could say anything he spoke up, “tadashi’s not with you anymore?”

you shook your head. “no––oh i’m sorry should i have invited him?”

he scoffed only confusing you further and without another word, he took your hand and pulled you into the house. still silent, he took your jacket for you and put your shoes away as well. you smiled up at him when he stood up straight and you could see the slight blush he was trying to hide.  

he walked ahead to sit on his couch and you followed, choosing to sit with a little space between the two of you, since he hadn’t seemed to cool off completely yet and you knew how much he valued personal space. little did you know, you were only making things worse. 

he stared at you, brows furrowed and you stared back, eyes curiously wide. “why are you all the way over there?” 

you smiled and got up to sit in his lap, feeling satisfied as he opened his arms up for you to get settled. you kissed his cheek and looked at him. “i know i saw you yesterday, but i missed you today, you know?” 

he rolled his eyes, “yeah sure.” 

“don’t roll your eyes at me,” you laughed. “you’re the one who didn’t wanna hang out with me.” 

he paused. “what are you talking about?”

“i asked you if i could come over and you left me on read.” you played with his hair mindlessly as you spoke. “but it’s okay, i know you get cranky sometimes.” you smiled fondly but he was serious as ever.

“i didn’t leave you on read?”

“yeah you did.” you tilted your head. “i thought you did it on purpose.” he frowned and you took your phone and scrolled through your conversation, before showing him the text you’d sent hours before. he read over the text and blinked a few times before looking away. he tightened his hold around you slightly. 

“i’m sorry... i didn’t see.” 

you put your hand on his cheek and made him look up at you. “aw baby is that why you’ve been so moody since i got here? you thought i didn’t wanna spend time with you?” 

he swallowed as he looked into your eyes, the vulnerability he was trying to hide in his gaze telling you everything you needed to know. “tsuki, you know i always wanna be with you.” you smiled and pressed your lips against his for a gentle kiss which he clearly appreciated. his hand gripped your thigh firmly as his other arm pulled you closer to him to prolong the kiss. 

when you pulled away, he looked up at you. “do you think...you could stay over tonight?”

he tried to keep a nonchalant and unbothered exterior but once you agreed and gave him that precious smile, he couldn’t stop the small smile that spread on his face, even if he tried. 

[katyasrussianaccent]

i don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (corpse x reader)

Summary: Corpse suggests you flirt with each other to mess with the fans. What happens when you suddenly catch feelings?

Authors Note: This has been in my brain for so long so I decided to write it. May or may not write a part 2, im not sure. Lemme know what you think! My requests are open for fic/headcannons aswell 💖

It should have been simple.

Flirt, mess with the fans a little, sit back and relax.

It should have been simple.

You remember Corpse coming to you with the idea.

“Why would we do that?” you had asked, frowning at your phone screen. It had been another late night phone conversation with him; something that was starting to become a regular occurrence.

You pictured him shrug as he answered. “Fun?”

“Are you so bored you wanna make a fake relationship with me?”

“Not a relationship. Just do what we do now, but like, more.”

You had agreed before your brain had even registered it. On paper it was straightforward. You already flirted a little anyway, you were naturally a flirtatious person, and so was he. It made sense; or at least you had told yourself that it did. You knew the fans already shipped you together, you saw the things they tweeted as you occasionally lurked the ynhusband tag on Twitter. It was just innocent fun right? No-one was going to get hurt.

For a little while that was true. For a little while he called you baby and you called him darling and it meant nothing. Your face didn’t feel flush when he commented on your latest Instagram post and your heart didn’t do a little flip when he would call you just to see how you were. The phone conversations were your favourite; curled up in bed with the phone on your pillow, trading secrets into the night. He had suddenly become this constant in your life, this almost routine familiarity like brushing your teeth or going to get milk.

You weren’t sure what changed, when it had gone from being innocent fun to meaning something. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and Corpse was no longer a warm glow but this bright, blinding light that hurt your eyes to look at too long. It was almost cruel, the way you wanted something so unobtainable; the universe’s idea of a joke had no humour in it. The thing with Corpse was he was so unaware of the power he had. He was mysterious yes, but he was faceless among a sea of faces; of course people were drawn to him. And you were just another.

You started to pull away. You played different games with different people, you ignored his tweets. It was easier, if you never interacted with him, you could pretend there was nothing but shallow feelings instead of the crashing waves that threatened to pull you under. The fans had started to notice; your streams were filled with questions that you refused to answer.

“Where’s Corpse?” you read aloud as you scrolled down the chat. “Probably in his house? Go ask him.” Your tone was bitter even to you and you inwardly cringed. He hadn’t contacted you in 2 weeks, and while you were thankful, you were hurt by it. It was stupid and hypoctritical of you to be upset by something that was your own doing, and you weren’t sure what you had expected from him. He had other friends, other people to talk to, why would he have cared about you anyway?

Your phone lit up next to you, and you ignored the pang of disappointment at Rae’s picture flashing up.

Rae: Among Us???

You hesitated for a second. The likelihood of Corpse being there was high, but you knew deep down he wouldn’t say a thing to you, not on stream or in front of your friends. You could just ignore him, like you had been doing and it would be fine. You weren’t sure you believed yourself anymore.

“Guys, you want to watch me play Among Us? I’m not sure who’s playing, other than Rae.” You looked at the fast flowing stream of affirmatives and emojis. Guess you had to do it now. You opened up the game and joined the lobby.

“-yeah she looks really fucking cute,” you heard Corpse say as you logged in. You looked down at your outfit,; he definitely wasn’t talking about you in your oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You had been on stream for a few hours now; your eyeliner was smudged a little and any lipstick had worn off with the constant drinking and licking your lips. No, he definitely wasn’t talking about you.

“Hey guys,” you said tentatively, swallowing down the feeling of jealousy at Corpse’s previous words.

A chorus of greetings hit you, and you smiled at their enthusiasm. You had played with Rae, Sykunno and Toast a few times before, but Felix, Jack and Ash were new to you, though you knew of them.

“Hey Y/N,” Corpse said. You had hoped after 2 weeks he wouldn’t still affect you so much, but the way your stomach turned said otherwise.

“Hey Corpse,” you replied, hoping your tone was casual.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy I guess, how are you?” You looked down as you answered, picking at your nail polish. You glanced at the chat that was filled with messages.

corpsesbaby: You can always tell when someones lying coz they look down” llamadelrey: why is this so awkward lmao arent they friends??” simpsforrae: This is like is a breakup i swear

“I’ve been okay, thanks” Corpse answered, drawing your eyes off the chat and back to the game. You nodded as you muted your mic to go back to your stream.

“I hope I don’t get imposter, I always suck at that so much.” You watched as the screen counted down and the word IMPOSTER flashed up alongside Corpse’s name. “Guess I jinxed it guys.”

Great. Not only were you imposter, you were imposter with Corpse, which meant you would have to actually speak to him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to.

You both followed Rae as she walked up towards Greenhouse, and you cornered her while she did her task, killing her quickly.

“Everyone seemed to go right, so we should vent back towards cafeteria to avoid suspicion,” Corpse said.

“Okay,” you answered. You vented together, and you muted your mic to laugh. “This is kinda cosy guys.” You said to your chat. You briefly imagined what it would be like in real life to be so close to him.

You moved to Admin where Toast was doing his task. Before you could say a word, Corpse had already killed him and you both vented outside Cafeteria. “Fuck, that was so close,” you muttered, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I got your back,” he replied, making your heart sing a little.

“Oh my hero,” you said, making a point of swooning to your chat, your voice high and airy. “How will I ever repay you?”

He chuckled, “You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

You flushed at the suggestive tone he had taken, and you hoped it wasn’t noticeable but judging by the comments in your chat, it clearly had been. This was another issue you had with Corpse; he always made these type of comments with you and it was really annoying. You knew there was no chance he was being serious, and sometimes you wished he would stop it purely because it got your hopes up.

delilah: shes BLUSHING dreamofme: uWu yn uWu

You opened your mouth to respond when Dead Body Reported flashed up, bringing your thoughts back to the game.

“Toast and Rae are dead,” Sykuuno said. “I found Rae in Greenhouse and Toast in admin.”

“I was in balcony, I went there from the cafeteria,” you said confidently. You hated being Imposter, especially being teamed with Corpse, who was so good at the game, you had a lot of pressure to do well.

“I was in MedBay, I didn’t see you YN,” Ash accused.

“You only see if they enter through the left door. She entered through the other door,” Corpse answered for you.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asked.

“I was in Cafeteria,” Corpse replied.

“You could’ve vented YN,” Jack said.

“No I couldn’t have, if Ash was in MedBay, she would have seen me. Unless she wasn’t in MedBay,” you suggested, smirking to your cam as you muted. “It’s not going too bad I don’t think? Always feel like I’ve been arrested when I’m Imposter.”

“Little sus of you Ash to say you were in MedBay when you weren’t,” Corpse said. You gaped a little at how easy it was for him to manipulate the situation, it was almost scary.

Ash argued as the other players began to agree and discuss among themselves. You smiled in success at the text on the screen.

Ash has been ejected.

You split up this time, and while you hadn’t really spoken during the game, you kind of missed Corpse’s astronaut next to yours, and you said that to your chat. “Haha, our colours did look cute together, I agree.”

Any previous trepidation you had had disappeared as soon as you had heard his voice; and you realised how much you had missed him. You would simply just need to deal with your feelings; they would go away eventually anyway. You just hoped it wasn’t too late for you to start again with him.

You walked to MedBay with Skyunno, making small talk as you did.

“I’m glad to see you playing with us, it’s been a little while,” he said and you felt bad that you would have to kill him. As you turned towards him, ready to kill as he did his task, Jack walked in. You mouthed oops at the cam.

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I was just saying how nice it was to have YN here,” Sykunno replied. You stood and faked your task, watching the green bar fill as you did. It would be too risky to kill here.

“Ah yeah, Corpse has been asking after you constantly,” Jack said. You blinked at the response, it had caught you off guard.

“Oh?” you replied simply. You mentally shrugged it off. Of course he would have asked about you, you were friends, that was all.

DEAD BODY REPORTED

“Felix was dead in Reactor,” Corpse announced. “Oh Corpse, you’re taking a risk here” you said to your chat.

“I was in MedBay with Jack and Sykunno,” you replied, smiling as they agreed. “Where were you Ash?”

She sighed sadly. “I was in Labs, but I was doing a task, I swear!” You all agreed quickly that Ash would be the next voted out.

“2 to go,” you said triumphantly. “I thought I was gonna drag Corpse down, but it’s going okay!”

The round started again and you could feel yourself getting tired. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much longer to finish the game.

You circled round Corpse a few times, hoping that he would understand your signal. Luckily he did, and you both vented to Decontamination where Skyunno and Jack were. The room had already started to emit steam, making it extremely easy for you both to vent unnoticed and kill them both.

You grinned at the Victory message that flashed up.

“Good game guys!” you said. The others congratulated you and Corpse on your win and you smiled at the sound of your names together. You had it bad.

“It was all YN,” Corpse said.

“Pfft you ssh being humble, it was all you,” you replied, taking your hair out of your ponytail and running your hand through it.

“Your hair looks nice,” Corpse commented and your eyes widened. Your heart started to beat a little quicker. How long had he been watching your stream?

“It’s bad to watch someone’s stream without telling them,” you replied, making a show of pouting for the camera.

He laughed a little. “What can I say, I’m a bad guy,” he said, singing the last words. You laughed at the sudden Billie Eilish.

“Guys, either play another game, or get a room,” Felix interrupted. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, the chat going crazy from the corner of your eye.

“And that’s my cue to exit,” you said, yawning. “Bye guys, have a good night!” You wished everyone and your chat goodnight before closing the stream and leaning back in your chat. You couldn’t believe Corpse had been watching you. You hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but still.

You prepared for bed, settling back into the softness of your pillows as you grabbed your phone - a terrible habit you really needed to stop.

Corpse: Can I call you?

You gulped at the message that appeared on your screen, a gnawing feeling of nervous clung to your throat as you typed yes. His name came up almost instantaneously and your hand shook as you pressed to accept the call.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even while your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“It was nice playing with you again,” he commented.

You sat up a little as you held the phone against your ear. “Did you call me to tell me that?”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

You sighed a little. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry - “

“You’re lying to me and I don’t know why,” he replied. You had never heard his voice like that before; so angry and hurt. You tapped your foot against your mattress as you thought what to say.

“I -”

“Did I do something?” he asked. You had been so selfish; blocking him out to avoid being hurt, but you hadn’t thought about his feelings. He was more popular than you were, you had assumed he would be fine, that he wouldn’t care if you were around or not.

“No, you didn’t do anything, I swear -”

“Then what? Because I thought we were friends, close friends and then suddenly you pretty much disappear. But you’re still streaming with other people. It’s pretty shitty of you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked up, the sting of tears threatening to fall. “It was really shitty of me, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Please just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” you replied softly.

“What do you want to say?”

You blinked, the anticipation of unspoken words caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow. The taste of them was bitter on your tongue. “I...I have feelings for you.”

There. You had said it. There was no taking it back now, and you felt like your heart was about to shatter with every single second of silence that passed. You could hear him swallow on the other end of the phone. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

You bit your lip, taking in the meaning of the question he had asked. It wasn’t something you had thought of, you hadn’t conceptualised your feelings for him, not put them in a box labelled love or anything. “I don’t know. I feel something for you. And it kinda sucks being your friend and having those feelings. So I pulled away.”

“Why does it suck?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t it? Feeling something for someone that doesn’t feel the same is fucking shitty.”

“I asked you to flirt with me YN -”

“Yeah, for fun,” you interrupted.

“No, I said for fun, but really I just wanted you to,” he replied. “I feel something for you too. How could I not? Has anything I’ve ever said to you sounded like it was just for fun?” You smiled at his response, your heart no longer on the fit of breaking, but suddenly doing flips and soaring through your chest, radiating warmth through your body.

“Oh,” you said, your brain was overloaded with thoughts, and was apparently no longer capable of coherent sentences.

“Oh? That’s a great response, thanks,” he teased, but you could tell he was smiling as he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, I don’t really know what to say honestly,” you replied.

“Well, baby, how about you say yes to a date?” he asked.

“Yes.”

[angeli-marco-writes]

Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective

A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.

Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.

Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...

TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway? 

“You are absolutely unbelievable!” 

“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid. 

“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”

“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”

“Sherlock!”

“John!” He mimics. 

John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face. 

“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”

As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs. 

Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded. 

“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.” 

With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open. 

“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake. 

John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.

Can you come over? Please? SH

It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now. 

Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.

He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door. 

Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body. 

“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.

The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek. 

It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together. 

That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.

“I’m here, bud.”

Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there. 

She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too. 

His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker. 

His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.

“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows. 

“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.

Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”

“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”

“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.” 

He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.” 

And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-

Oh.

The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory. 

Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face. 

His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?

Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?

Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long. 

“What are you doing?” she whispers. 

He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.” 

She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”

“Hmm, same difference.” 

Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.” 

He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive. 

“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”

“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise. 

Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces. 

As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep. 

For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him. 

Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone. 

“May I take your shirt off?” he asks. 

“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”

“Be my guest.”

In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.

His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets. 

“Never undone a bra before?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”

“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”

“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling. 

She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck. 

“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine. 

“N- fuck, no.”

“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”

“I know you will.”

She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years. 

“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”

“That depends what you want to do.”

“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”

She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”

“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”

“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”

“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”

Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again. 

They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little. 

He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name. 

“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”

“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words. 

“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”

“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”

He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”

And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort. 

Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off. 

“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”

“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”

“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”

She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees. 

“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”

Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…

“You sure you wanna go this far?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.” 

He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-

“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”

He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hmm, anything, you say?”

Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”

Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.

This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.

Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane. 

Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.

“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.

A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away. 

“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”

“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”

She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up. 

“Touch yourself f- for me.”

“What? Why?” 

Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on. 

“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”

She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there. 

“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”

She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers. 

“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air. 

She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair. 

His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen… 

He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him. 

“Do you have a condom?” he asks. 

“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”

“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”

“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”

“You have a considerably good point.”

With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.

“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”

“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”

He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Can I…”

“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”

Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had. 

His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before. 

“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another. 

“Please.” She all but begs. 

Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.

“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing. 

“Hmm, not quite.”

The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?

“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.

“So good.”

She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame. 

“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns. 

He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly. 

The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.

“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”

He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”

Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other. 

His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her. 

“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely. 

Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another. 

He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight. 

“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”

His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them. 

“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before… 

She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?” 

He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body. 

“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.” 

Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering. 

“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”

He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.” 

A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom. 

“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”

He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner. 

“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”

He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”

“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs. 

He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”

As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs. 

“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.

“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”

Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther. 

“Thank you, Sherlock.” 

She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse. 

“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks. 

“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.” 

He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.

“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything. 

“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.” 

She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly. 

“Look at you now.”

After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain… 

With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.

In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly. 

His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?

The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton. 

“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.

Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way. 

“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...” 

She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”

He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.

“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”

“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”

He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”

Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier. 

“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”

“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”

He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”

“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles. 

He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.

“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”

“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”

“No, I don’t think I ever can.”

The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs. 

And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.

John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…

He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock. 

It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag. 

She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that . 

This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet. 

One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”

How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of… 

Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.

John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple. 

The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone. 

She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”

[en-hale-archives]

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

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(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

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None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)