#does this count as a forth wall break | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doobea · 1 month

Text

SPITTIN' OUT LIKE LISTERINE ─ RIN I.

synopsis: sae is great at a lot of things, his brother... not so much. when sae calls you up to tutor rin for his upcoming exams the first thought should've been 'yeah, sounds like easy money' rather than 'why does it look like he wants to kill me right now'.

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: gn!reader, reader is two grades above rin, college AU setting, forced proximity, best friend's brother, rin is a lil emotionally constipated but its alright bc we love him, sae is a physics major in this idk why word count: 10.9k (haha... why do i do this) a/n: hi hi umm idk if i know how to write tbh its been quite some time,,, but im slowly finding myself getting back into the groove and umm yeah it'll still take some time!! anyways, thank you for beta'ing @popponn and of course this fic is dedicated to you too my sweet <3

You meet Itoshi Rin at a coffee shop, of all places.

The kind of shop that you often see campus influencers hanging around. Hole in the wall. Dangling fairy lights paired with a few overgrown rose bushes in the front. A bit old-schooled, wooden counter tops, with well loved espresso machines. It’s not a big cafe, just enough to hold a few couches, a singular bookshelf packed with all sorts of board games, and low rise tables with way too many heat stains.

At the start of the year, it started out as a quiet job. Never too overwhelming and had just enough downtime for you to finish up assignments in between breaks. Recently, due to a couple of self-proclaimed foodies on campus, business has blown up ten-fold. So, instead of catching up on your latest lectures, you’re stuck brewing teenage girls their overpriced lattes that are just mostly multiple pumps of flavored syrup and copious amounts of whipped cream. It’s rough but manageable to say the least, judging from the tips.

You’re currently on scholarship, top of your classes and major, but you’re also living on your own so rent’s gotta get paid one way or another. Whether it be working part-time as a teaching assistant, a barista, or both.

On this particular day, you’re just about done closing up shop. The last hour had you rushing back and forth, fulfilling a last minute order from a Karen that swore up and down that she placed a mobile app order for ten frappuccinos twenty minutes prior. It’s been a long day, but the evening has finally calmed down. You’re scrubbing down the counter, putting all the remaining elbow grease you have into this one particular syrup spill earlier that you didn’t realize that someone had walked in until they started clearing their throat.

You barely look up, having the stain just almost disappear from the counter, but the information you register is enough to know that it’s a guy, and he’s by himself.

And, okay, in a normal setting you would probably be smart enough to realize that a guy wearing a black cap, oversized hoodie, and a large gym bag at nearly nine o’clock at night is anything but suspicious. You, however, worked a long day. Your eyes are strained from operating the bright tablet menu. Your hair is a frenzied mess. There’s tea stains all over your apron. You get the gist.

So you don’t really notice at all, except that this guy is idling in front of the counter, looking over at the menu with equally strained eyes as you. That’s not unusual. You’ve learned when to be helpful and when to give someone their time and space. It’s slow now, not like it’s common for more customers to show up this late anyway.

After a moment, the customer clears his throat again. You turn around, fixing your apron, and work up a friendly smile and a quick “ready to order?” when it dawns upon you that this guy is breathtakingly gorgeous. So much so that if you could take over the rights of the Oxford Dictionary, you would attach this guy’s face underneath the word gorgeous and emo.

Dark wispy bangs, striking teal eyes, long mesmerizing lashes, and lips that naturally fall into a small frown giving him the ultimate resting bitch face. They’re also very kissable lips, and you hate yourself for jumping to that thought so fast. It’s not usual for you to hit on customers, let alone just anyone, and it’s probably safe to say that anyone as handsome as The Duke of the North (because you’ve also been reading too many romance comics on the side and this stranger definitely fits this role) probably has a partner of his own.

“Hey,” The Duke of the North looks awkwardly pained, as if he hates starting a conversation. His eyes drift down to your name tag that’s proudly displayed on your apron, littered with all sorts of stickers and pins. “I—um, what do you recommend?”

Working in food service made you absolutely hate this question with a burning passion. Everyone’s taste is subjective. You get this question all the damn time, and you have to put on your best customer service act, all preppy and bubbly. It’s not like you hate helping customers, you do. But, when they don’t give you anything to work with, it becomes your fault if the drink is bad.

Though, for obvious reasons, you don’t mind extending the conversation with The Duke of the North. Just by glance alone, you can tell he’s a bit of a health nut from the lean physique and the hefty gym bag that’s tossed around his shoulders. Looks scary and a little daunting, but you have an inkling feeling he’s more of a traditional type of guy.

“If you want popular suggestions then I’d rec our brown sugar boba for beginners or, if you want something less sweet, I always prefer our in house rose oolong milk tea.” You answer, good-naturedly.

The Duke of the North seems to be in deep pondering. The look on his face makes you feel a little uneasy, like maybe he’s missing something, but eventually he settles with the latter. “Rose oolong,” He says thoughtfully, almost unfamiliar with the term. “I’ll have that then.”

“It’s one of our signature drinks,” you ring in his order with a smile, “tends to be popular with a lot of the older women.” There’s tease laced in the tone, but you mean no harm. Maybe just a tiny amount for him coming in before closing.

And, after collecting the cash payment, you can tell that he’s struggling with the awkwardness hanging in the air. You assume he’s not used to jokes, or even hanging around others willingly for that fact. There was another comment you wanted to ask, more so his background and if he goes to the same university, but it quickly vanishes when the guy scurries to the furthest corner of the shop.

Okay, that’s fine too. Not everyone is suited for small talk.

You get the feeling that this guy wants to avoid people and maybe he’s also had one hell of a day. You’ve learned pretty early on as a barista to never ask anyone about their problems, only because you’ll accidentally sign up to become their therapist without meaning to.

You decide to brew up a warm batch of rose oolong tea, despite the fact he never specified if he wanted it hot or iced - he looks like the type of guy to always order a warm drink, even on a summer day. And, being the lovely barista you are, you decide to give him a large for the hell of it. This will go down as your one positive action for today, hoping that the good luck will carry over for tomorrow’s rough schedule.

“Hope you like it,” you present him with the tea and watch him as he swirls the drink around. He doesn’t look upset that it’s warm, so you take that as a good sign. “Feel free to hang back a little, I still have to clean up a couple of things in the back.”

“Sure, thanks,” he nods, and the words sound genuine. Without missing a beat, he retreats back in the corner and pulls out a laptop, notebook, and somehow manages to balance the drink on the cushion next to him. Yeah, definitely a fellow student working overtime like you.

True to your word, you go back to your boring list of chores to do; tons of equipment to be sanitized, chalkboard to be erased and be replaced by tomorrow’s daily specials, counting the register, taking out all the trash… maybe it’s not too late to find a less taxing job.

If you weren’t so tunnel visioned in your deep cleaning, maybe you would’ve noticed The Duke of the North spilling some of the tea on himself, asking if you had some extra tissues he could borrow, but only growing self-cautious when he realized that your earbuds are shoved in. And maybe you’d notice him cleaning up the spill with his own clothes from the gym bag, dabbing the spot furiously and making sure it looked like the same state prior.

You’re almost done with your long list of closing chores when The Duke of the North returns with an empty cup. “Thanks, again. ‘S was good,” he awkwardly offers up.

“Glad to hear,” you flush a little, because your uniform is a mess, and you clearly look the part still. Nothing is more embarrassing than a cute guy staring down at you while you’re sweaty, tired, and have soap suds all over your apron.

There’s a bit of a silence, and then he says, even more awkwardly, “I’ll, uh, see you around. Good night.”

“Sure,” you reply in a quiet voice, in a tone that’s taken on a dreamy sort of quality. “Night.”

You let out a ragged sigh by the time he was out of sight, praying to see him again in better circumstances. By the time you’re locking the front door, you’re half debating to FaceTime your best friend about the random encounter. Somehow, Sae tends to know just about everyone on campus, even if his friend group only extends out to you. Though, noting that it’s nearly midnight and you should really catch the last bus of the day, you quickly toss that thought out the window and save the energy for tomorrow’s session.

“Mind tutoring my brother for me?” Sae asks out of the blue the next day.

You flail a little, shooting him an exasperated look over your shoulder as your fingers stop in mid hover over the keys of your laptop. An hour and a half into the TA grading session and somehow things feel slightly more off than yesterday night.

There’s only one single thought running through your mind as you stare at Sae, best friend of nearly two years, “You have a brother?!”

A swarm of “shh” and “quiet down” soon blows in your direction in the library. You’re quickly met with glares from other senior students from nearby tables and study rooms as you mumble back flurries of “sorry” while Sae only rolls his eyes.

It’s nearing midterms, everyone and their mothers are camped on every floor and crevice of the building, thus making gossiping quite impossible and frowned upon. So you stare in disbelief at your friend on the wild fact that he potentially has a brother and didn’t bother telling you until now.

Sae blinks, “…Yeah? That’s shocking news to you?”

You laugh a little sheepishly, “You’ve never mentioned having one, let alone anything familial.” Then again, this is Sae. Talk about emotionally guarded.

“You’ve never asked,” Sae huffs before setting down a stack of graded papers. At the top, you see an unfortunate student’s work marred in everything red from Sae’s corrections. He’s always been a tough grader and, for any poor soul who has to take physics, chances of them retaking are high when he’s TAing.

“No offense, but you’ve always given me only child vibes,” you say, lamely, not hiding the fact you’re mildly annoyed. Seriously, this guy knows just about everything about your personal life and now you’re just finding out about his?

“All offense taken,” he replies dryly.

You scoot closer and whisper, “So, who’s the unlucky guy?”

Sae heaves, ignoring your comment, and continues, “Rin. He’s been focusing too much on sports lately to care about his midterms. He knows about the arrangement. I would offer to tutor him but… we don’t have the best sibling relationship.”

And, Sae being Sae, this doesn’t really surprise you. “See? The only child vibe checks out.”

“Anyways,” Sae rolls his eyes for the nth time and tosses you a half folded sticky note with the name and contact info of his presumed brother. “He gets his shitty attitude from me, so try not to get too upset if he doesn’t seem talkative.”

“I haven’t even given my answer to—”

“Just how often do I ask for your help?”

“Like never,” your reply is instant and Sae only raises his brows in confirmation. You take that as a sign of he’ll somehow return the favor. It’s a rare opportunity, perhaps even once in a blue moon, but there is just one thing that you’re wondering about—

“Don’t worry about the money, you’re going to be covered,” Sae reassures as he throws another thick stack of exams on top of the finished pile. “He’s a fast learner when he wants to be, just not as of recently since he’s started the semester.”

“I take it he’s a grade below?”

“About two years younger, in honors.”

You laugh, pulling away and readjusting your attention back to your laptop screen. “Seems smarter than you, I like him already.”

It’s a terrible day, because you’re awake before your alarm. Hell, you’re awake before sunrise.

It’s absolutely nonsense and your boss knows to stop giving you these opening and closing shifts back to back, but apparently nobody else had been available to open.

“You’re competent,” your boss had said over the phone last night. “I trust you more than our own managers, so you should at least feel proud about that.”

Should you?

Of course, you don’t fall for his stupid flattery, not when your alarm is finally blasting in your ear at five in the morning. Normally, you at least try to make yourself look half-presentable but, working on approximately four hours of sleep, the best you could do for yourself is throw on a sweater and jeans before heading out the door.

As a whole, you really do like your job and usually get the later shift but the recent manager got fired for stealing cash from the register, and your other co-worker called off for the next few weeks due to a family emergency, so now your life is a living hell — at least until they return. And, let’s not forget to mention that somehow you’re also stuck with tutoring your classmate’s younger brother because somehow he couldn’t have done it himself. Also a so-called “family emergency”.

The only thing you appreciate is at least it’s warm inside the cafe once you’ve turned on the lights and tossed your bookbag in the back room. The store might be short-staffed today, but mornings are always slow, which only means you can at least get paid by watching some YouTube videos while finishing setting the place up.

You barely get through setting up the pastries when there’s a knock on the door. Dear god. It’s barely seven, you’ve been here for exactly fifty minutes, and already you’re debating smashing your face against the coffee machine to put yourself out of this misery. If it’s a customer, you swear you’re going to kill someone.

As you glare intently at the window, in the early morning, pre-dawn glow, you can make out a tall guy, dressed in athleisure, peering through the glass. You’re about to grumble out loud about entitled customers showing up before opening hours but the door knob suddenly turns, all because you were too tired earlier to lock it, so now you have to put on your dumb customer service voice.

The bell chimes loudly as the guy walks in. The lighting in the coffee shop is low, with that quiet, comfortable ambience of soft piano background music playing through the speakers. Your eyes are still half-awake too, blurry around the edges with sleep. But that face, no one could possibly forget that.

“You’re back,” you say this in awe, offering up your best smile, even though it’s lopsided and droopy. The annoyance ebbs away slowly as the man approaches the counter.

The Duke of the North scratches his cheek, and looks around the cafe a bit more, realizing that he’s quite literally the only one here. “...Am I early?”

“Kinda, we open in thirty minutes,” you shrug. It’s not an accusatory thing, because at least this time he has the manners to come in before it’s open rather than before closing. That’s something you can work with. You were irritated earlier but now you’re suppressing a giggle. “Did you like the drink that much?”

Before he could answer, he tips his baseball cap and grips his bookbag before settling down on the nearest couch by the counter. Wondering if the comment had came out as off putting, you’re about to throw on a free pastry when—

“My brother recommended this cafe. Needed a quiet place to get some work done,” he explains with a slight pause, and continues, “The drink you made was good,” he says quietly and starts unpacking. For whatever reason, that puts a dumb cheesy grin on your face. You’re thankful he’s too occupied to catch that.

“Well, you’re welcome to stop by anytime. Just, you know, within actual store hours.” You laugh when you see the tips of his ear flushing a light shade of red.

“I suppose you’re right,” and you don’t have to look at him to hear the tiny smile in his voice.

“Did you want me to make you anything?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing at the moment. Thank you.”

You two are quiet again for a long time. He’s minding your space while you’re trying to finish your opening duties. When you’re finally done fiddling with the coffee bean grinder, you twirl around, mind racing and checking off your internal checklist with the next task being to actually open the shop. Though, as you turn, The Duke of the North is already by the front door, flipping the sign over to OPEN.

Can this guy get any more charming?

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” except that you totally loved the fact that he did just that. Maybe a concerning amount.

“I was getting up anyways,” he reasons simply with a shrug. Somehow he slightly reminds you of a certain someone, but you ignore the nagging voice inside your head.

“Well, keep that up and we might just hire you,” you tease.

The Duke of the North strolls up to the counter, presenting a credit card in his hand, and looks over the menu behind you. You give him space, but you absolutely try to make out the name on the card. You probably shouldn’t refer to him as The Duke of the North any longer than you should. Then again, if the shoe fits, why change?

Suddenly, the front door bell rings and the sight of maroon catches your attention.

“Sae?”

“You’re here awfully early,” Sae comments, nonchalantly.

You sigh, rubbing a hand to your temple. “Got moved to first shift, unfortunately.”

“Wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to him,” he nods towards The Duke of the North.

Blinking hastily, you choke out, “Wait, you two know each other?”

“Are you that blind?” Sae deadpans and stands next to the taller male, who looks mildly taken back, like somehow he doesn’t want to be here anymore. “This is Rin. The guy I was talking about yesterday. My brother.”

To say that you’re shocked might be an understatement. The correct emotion might’ve been appalled, or even dread? You’re not sure. But you weren’t expecting the meeting to be as unnerved as it was. Rin doesn’t even allow Sae to finish explaining, just ends up walking out with the promise of showing up to the shop at the end of your shift. You remember catching Sae’s irritated expression which, in itself, is extremely rare. It placed a strained smile on your face.

Back at your apartment, you’re currently trying to balance this tutoring session by turning it into a personal study time too. Though, you keep the sight of Rin in your peripheral as you complete your assignments in bed. It didn’t take you too long to look through his current curriculum and throw together a few practice and multiple choice questions for a quick knowledge assessment. He seemed pretty adamant about knowing everything, but Sae has his doubts.

Rin keeps looking over at his quiz, your digital clock, and the floor — all in that order. You don’t want to distract him anymore than he already is, though you can’t help but to spare a glance of what he has done so far.

The multiple choice questions have been filled out, with a couple of eraser bits on the side, but the short answers have hardly been touched. A lofty attempt has been made to the first short answer, where Rin drew a small circuit diagram to determine the internal resistance of a battery, but it kinda just stops at that. Any answers he has written for the problem set are mostly brief notions of what’s already stated in the prompt.

Rin currently has his fingers knotted in his hair, pencil tapping against the table and, underneath the desk, he’s bouncing his leg like mad.He tries to look indifferent on a surface level, but you can easily see the vein popping out on his neck.

By the time you’ve finished grading, Rin barely scrapes by with a C-. And, while some students would be ecstatic with that, it’s surely not enough to raise his current grade to a passing one.

Sae mentioned that Rin’s a fast learner when he wants to be and he never said tutoring would be an easy job. No worries, it’s not the first time you had to mentor a student before. What you’re more worried about is how Rin had been so sure that he knew what he was doing… when he obviously doesn’t.

You hand back the paper with the corrected answers in red ink. You even drew a tiny smiley face by his name to give him some sort of comfort, but Rin just makes a disgruntled noise and looks mildly disgusted.

“I don’t need your sympathy.”

You certainly didn’t expect him to snap at you. Rin visibly tenses and blood rushes to your ears.

Your lips part, finding the right words, as he redirects his attention to your bedroom window and stretches his jaw. Then, after an agonizing long pause, he tips his head back, slouches down in the chair, and sighs in defeat.

“Sorry,” his voice cracks a little and he leans down, resting his forehead on the edge of the table.

You pinch your lips together, eyebrows raised. He looks frustrated, but you can tell it’s not aimed at you. “Let’s… take a fifteen minute break, how does that sound?”

“I think I should go.” He’s a little breathless, possibly uncomfortable under the weight of your stare.

“I’m not delicate, Itoshi,” you say, slowly. You’ve dealt with a fair share of angst-ridden undergrads flustering over their assignments. Rin is no different, and you’re not the type to easily give up after a mini meltdown. It’s all about having the right approach, if you send him home now then the next session would just start off even more strained. “Stay for a while longer, we’ll go over everything one by one.”

“It’s fine.”

You sigh, lips curling ever so slightly. “Itoshi, has anyone told you that you’re a terrible liar?”

From the look on his face, it seemed like the world had slipped out from under his feet. You soon realize that Rin almost reminds you of a raging teen, when he’s like this. He’s fiercely independent, that’s for sure. The type that doesn’t like to make others worry but it ends up backfiring in the end. How he’s managed to get through with life is way beyond your comprehension, but you have a feeling that it has something to do with Sae.

“I… I don’t talk about stuff like this,” he admits and chews down on his lip - it seems like a nervous tick, a bad habit.

“I can tell,” a chuckle bubbles from you but you pause when you catch his glare. You start clearing your throat awkwardly, “I—um, I don’t talk about my feelings often either. I don’t think many people do. We’re all trying to figure things out as we go.”

“Have you figured it out yet?” Rin seems to surprise himself with that question.

Maybe for him, you look like you’ve got all your shit together. As if you’ve figured out all the great secrets in life. And maybe, you think, he just wants reassurance that he’s not alone, struggling, to find purpose. Or perhaps Rin wants you to offer up some adult advice, something only seniors would know.

Your eyes widen for a moment. Rin furrows his brows tightly together and stares at you for answers. You both know well enough that you don’t have a solution, but he looks at you anyway. All you offer him back is a warm, big smile.

“Itoshi, I’m two years older than you. I’ve had a little more years to figure it out,” you begin slowly, “I’ve had my ups and downs, almost flunked out a few courses when I was starting out, too. I didn’t just magically have it all come together.”

He appears doubtful, almost hard to believe. Rin looks like he’s about to protest but one look and he soon realizes that you’re pushing some truth there. You can tell that he’s struggling, mind working in overtime to try and process all of his internal conflicts — only because you’ve gone through the same.

“Honestly,” you continue, after a long moment of silence, and lean to the side, giving Rin’s shoulder a little nudge, “It’s not my business to dig around your psyche, but just know that you’re welcome to tell me anything. Physics related or not.”

Rin doesn’t say a word, but you take his silence as a contentment.

“So, uh,” you start to get up from the bed and pace towards the kitchen area, “I have some sliced fruit in the fridge, if you want some. Can’t solve these problems on an empty stomach.”

You two spend the rest of the night assessing the problems he got stuck on and going over shorthand tricks to easily remember what formulas to use. To your surprise, Rin stays mostly quiet and attentive this time around. He doesn’t stare at the worksheet in irritation anymore, and asks questions when he finds himself stuck on a problem. At the end, he manages a passing B on the new practice assessment. And, of course, while downing a bowl of freshly sliced honeydew.

It’s almost midnight by the time he starts heading out. You’re certain that this is going to kick you in the ass tomorrow morning, because you somehow forgot that you have an 8:00 AM class. It’s fine, you think, at least the atmosphere feels a lot lighter than when you guys first started, so you consider that as a plus.

As Rin begins to put on his shoes, you try to lean against the bedroom door casually and nearly fall over. Looking unimpressed, Rin looks up at you.

“Hm?”

“Do you dislike me?”

“You’d already be dead if I hated you,” Rin says this with a certain level of confidence that makes you both shiver and relax at the same time. You’re positive that he isn’t a serial killer but, then again, you don’t know if Sae is the only source of all that pent up angst.

When his hand rests on the front door knob, Rin suddenly looks back, eyebrows knitted together, and you can’t tell what his expression translates into. Nevertheless, it makes your breath catch in your throat, and you swallow hard.

“Yes, Itoshi?”

”You… your room is messy,” Rin eventually comments, very unnecessarily, which causes you to release a heavy sigh, sticking a disapproving tongue out.

“Wow, you really do get that shitty attitude from him!”

Rin just snorts, hands in his pockets, and you think this is the first time he’s ever really laughed. It throws you off and, before you get a proper chance to recover, he’s out the door.

“You’re surprisingly getting the hang of this, Itoshi” you’re glossing over the practice quiz he had today, feeling a surge of pride knowing that Rin was able to handle it just fine. He ended up receiving a B minus, which is nearly a grade higher from his past averages. Guess a heated vent session is the answer to most problems.

“I’ve cleared my head,” he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it’s the easiest thing to do in the world.

Outside, a storm rages and rattles the windows every time thunder roars. Typhoon season is nearing as the weather starts to get warmer, which ultimately means your evening shifts are cut early to avoid flood risks and violent winds. It’s been about two weeks since the first tutoring session and there’s been a slow progression in your relationship.

Having Rin over almost feels weirdly second nature, despite the short amount of time. You try to meet at least three times a week, two of those times happen right after your shift. The thing you miss the most about being a sophomore is the amount of free time you had. Rin’s classes practically finish before three every day and arrive at the coffee shop right after football practice everyday. Majority of the time, it would just be exchanging shorthand greetings but, whenever the evening rush dies down, you try to strike a quick check-in. Afterwards, the two of you would make the trip back to your apartment to continue the session.

Which leads to this current situation.

About an hour into the session you suggested a well needed break, for you at least. You’re laying down in your bed, playing a mobile game on full volume, while Rin is disciplined enough to still scroll over his previous lecture slides at your desk. You’re not sure if this is what he does to “relax”, or if he’s just simply not grown comfortable around you just yet. Either way, it’s hard to believe that you’re being out mentored.

“You know you can chill, right?”

“I know.” You hear muffled sounds of a lecture recording from his laptop.

“Well, I don’t hear you chilling.”

“I don’t need to be.”

Okay, yeah, you’re starting to see the family resemblance here. But it’s going to take a lot more than that to stop you. How else have you survived as Sae’s best friend for two years?

“Don’t you have any fun weekend plans?”

Rin shakes his head, eyes never leaving his screen. “Maybe not fun by your definitions.”

Your ears perk at this and you subtly lower the volume of the game. Maybe this is a sign to get to know his likes and dislikes, and whether or not he has a significant other — because that’s all important information. At least, that’s what you convince yourself. If Rin just so happens to be in a relationship, then you’ll easily set aside that growing curiosity. If he’s not, then a little harmless flirting won’t harm anyone, right?

“Itoshi,” you sit up from the bed with more purpose than before, Rin seems to catch on and visibly grimaces. “Tell me, I wanna know.”

“We should probably go back to studying,” he sighs.

You hop to your feet, sauntering to the desk and shutting his laptop with ease. Ohm’s Law can wait just a little while longer. “You’ve been at it nonstop since we’ve arrived here. It’s not good to cram everything in that big head of yours, that’s how people burn out faster. C’mon, a ten minute break won’t kill you.”

Rin doesn’t bother to argue against you, he’s been over well enough to pick up that you won’t let him become a complete workaholic.

“Fine,” he gets up and makes his way over to sit on the edge of your bed, because if he doesn't then you’ll eventually force him to sit elsewhere. Something about separating work and personal spaces to improve learning.

You plop down a few inches away with a winning smile, “So, what are your plans?”

“Football practice—”

“Something other than what I already know.”

He exhales loudly. “Catching up on coursework at the cafe, probably.”

This takes you by surprise, only because you work this upcoming weekend. “Really? Well, guess we’ll see each other then.” Maybe tenacity is just rooted deeply in the family’s genes.

“It’s a nice place,” he reasons, sneaking a glance at you.

You begin squirming, trying to turn from Rin without looking like a complete idiot. Then, slowly, “...What do you like about it?”

And, of course, the words barely escape your lips when the whole building seems to creak and groan under the effort of the storm. The power flicks suddenly around the room, and then it’s complete, utter darkness.

You don’t feel Rin’s presence next to you until a sudden gust of air hits your ear. You flinch and clap a hand over your ear while Rin mumbles out a quick apology and stumbles to establish his own personal space on the bed.

It starts to rain heavier now, water slapping hard against the window panels in big, ugly raindrops. You should probably get up and find a flashlight or any lighting of some sort, something to make the situation less awkward, but your body feels like a rock. You don’t want to move but, at the same time, your mind is telling you to run far, far away from Rin.

Heart throbbing against your chest, you gather up the courage to look at Rin’s face with the help of the dim lighting from the window sill. His eyes are half-lidded, seemingly glazed over in deep thought. He doesn’t say a single word, and every moment of his silence stirs the growing anxiousness inside. You swallow, suddenly aware that he’s beginning to unravel your sanity just by being there besides you.

“Are you, um, are you okay with thunderstorms?” you adjust your position with shaky limbs, trying your best to not cross his physical boundaries.

Rin fidgets in response, but you can tell he’s also trying to keep his cool. “I’m fine with them. I just wasn’t expecting the power to suddenly…”

“Yeah, my apartment sucks,” you groan, inwardly. “This doesn’t happen all the time, I swear.” A flash of lightning illuminates the room, you squint against the light. “Maintenance won’t be on site ‘till tomorrow morning. I doubt you want to stay so we’ll have to cut the session short for today.”

You feel the mattress dip a little. The two of you fall silent, and there’s a weird awkward tension hanging in the room, one where it leaves you both red and flushing. Your mind is racing, and there’s a million questions. He hasn’t made any moves of getting up, nor has he said anything about leaving. It’s a bit uncharacteristic for Rin to be unsure in a given situation like this, or is he just being polite? This feels different from your first meeting, it’s still unpredictable, still a confusing mess.

“Or we could talk!” you quickly add on. “I…uh, if you want to talk, that is.”

After a few more moments of that awkward, creeping silence permeating the room, Rin sighs. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk about,” he whispers and looks up, his face looking worn out.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Silence is also okay.”

“I like silence,” he confesses.

“We can just sit here then,” you agree, “silence in itself can be therapeutic, too.”

You don’t necessarily agree with yourself. If it’s not for work at the cafe, you spend a good deal of your time in silence. Studying, grading students’ papers, thinking about your family back home, and preparing for life after graduation. It all gets overwhelming when you sit and process everything in your mind. Even so, the silence that falls between you and your best friend’s brother feels comfortable, in spite of the initial close proximity. You find yourself leaning back into the bed frame’s headboard, curling up sideways.

About ten minutes in, Rin cracks.

“When I was a kid, I used to be afraid of storms. Sae used to make dumb blanket forts with me. It’s silly, but…”

And, despite it being dark, you shoot him a knowing look. For a moment, Rin looks like he regrets even opening his mouth, like he’s about to blurt out a quick ‘nevermind’, but you don’t give him a chance.

“I’m listening, you don’t have to stop.” Unknowingly, you give his shoulders a little nudge of encouragement. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rin thinks it over, and he only has to for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He talks for a while, until he runs out of things to say. Or, rather, he runs out of energy to say anything. His thought process is a jumbled mess of how his relationship with Sae developed. Being the younger sibling, it’s natural for Rin to look up to his brother, to want to gain acknowledgement and become some sort of a mirror image. The thought of Sae looking after Rin while both of their parents were working overtime to provide for their education is also something you could heavily relate to. Around some point down the line, Sae began to distance himself from Rin without any apparent reasoning, at least in his eyes. Towards the end, it becomes a rambling about nothing, too, and you’re positive that Rin hasn’t even gotten into the meat of the issue.

Rin appears mildly exhausted, flustered, and a little embarrassed by the time he’s done. He turns to you, eyes narrowed, “Don’t say that you feel sorry for me, I’ve heard it about a dozen times already. It gets old.”

You shake your head, processing everything. You can tell he has so much more he wants to get off of his chest, so many things he wants to unload, things that he hasn’t even realized that’s been weighing him down.

“I wasn’t gonna say that,” and he stays still, studying your next words with high concentration. “Sae and I have been close for quite a while, and I totally get how he’s an ass—to you and just about everyone else. He’s abrasive and straight to the point with a lot of things. Also pretty sure he’s allergic to communication. Hell, I’m not entirely sure how I was able to get close to him in the first place,” you flare a deep breath out of your nose and rhythmically tap your fingers along your thighs. “But I know he has a weird way of caring for others, too.”

“How so?” Rin doesn’t sound annoyed, just confused. Almost hopeful, even.

“Well, he’s signed you up for tutoring, which might actually not be a good example of care but, um… He normally hates asking people for favors. This is just an unconventional way of saying that he’s making sure you’re doing okay.”

“Could’ve said it himself.”

“Yeah, well, you came to the cafe because he told you, right?”

With that, he quickly shuts his mouth, forming it into a subtle pout. Is he embarrassed that you’re right?

Another flash of lightning comes by, followed by low rumbling thunder. Then, an idea brews.

“This is gonna sound a bit crazy but… do you wanna build a fort?”

Rin snorts. “What’s with that?”

“Well, it doesn't seem like you’re in a rush to leave. Then again, maybe a taxi service would be expensive right now…”

He offers up little resistance to your suggestion and ends up dragging a couple of chairs into your living room from the kitchen. You dig around in your closet and pull out a heavy winter blanket, the ones with a giant tiger imprinted on the front. It’s been stored away for quite some time, leaving bits of dust and other mysterious remnants in the air as you straighten the fabric out. Hopefully Rin’s not sensitive to dust mites.

One side of the blanket is stretched around the edge of the couch and tucked beneath the cushions. Another corner is wrapped and fastened clumsily around a chair. It hangs over the edge of the coffee table and is held in place by the second chair in the corresponding corner. The overall impression is ridiculous, but there's a decent space on the floor in front of the sofa.

“That’s a bit better,” you decide, with a faint laugh.

You’re pressed close to one another, and you have to admit that it’s intimate in a way that you didn’t expect. The air is a little warm, heavy with their breath and the faint heat from the candles. It’s… nice. Outside, the wind is howling, but it is fainter, partially obscured by the blanket barrier that keeps the outside world away.

You decide to stream a horror movie to pass the time, until the weather subsides a bit. You’ll probably go over your data plan for the month, but right now, you don’t really care. You prop the phone up against one of Rin’s textbooks that he didn’t get the chance to go over today, and end up watching a really shitty slasher movie from the 80’s.

At some point, you doze off, leaning in and head tipping to tentatively rest on his shoulder. It’s not the most comfortable position. You’re both slouched back against the couch, pillow wedged under your backs. Your phone eventually runs dead, and the candles burn into nothing—smoldering and smoking as they sputter out.

“Hey,” Rin faintly calls out your name. “It’s getting late.”

You stir in your sleep, finding the strength to open your eyes and tilt your head up. You’re sure that your heart is going to stop beating when he takes notice. The look on your face must’ve been a good one, because now Rin’s six shades of red deeper and he’s got his hand over his mouth.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, Itoshi!”

“It’s… okay,” his voice is low, sounding almost uncertain. “Rin is also fine.”

You fail to notice his fingers making their way past your forearm, past your neck, until you feel them settle on your warm cheek. Shivers course through your body, and the resulting sounds you release is halfway between a sigh and a whimper. His eyes are half-lidded, glazed, and you’re positive yours are no different.

“Sorry, Rin…” you’re apologizing again, his name sounds foreign on your tongue but feels like home all at the same time. Your voice begins to trail off. You can’t finish, your eyes are already closed, head tilted. As you breathe, with your heart rattling in your throat, you feel Rin lean in close.

As soon as you collide into him, his lips meld against yours.

It’s funny how life works. Some days seem to drag, impossibly slow, especially when you’re trapped in your own mind — replaying everything, obsessing over every single action you’ve done wrong in your life. There are days where you barely get out of bed until it’s time for classes or to get ready for work, where you just go through the motions.

Other days, they fly by in the blink of an eye. Sometimes it’s because you hole yourself up at the library, nose glued to your textbooks, and body running on adrenaline. Other times, it’s because you keep replaying that kiss you gave Rin, wondering what it means, or if it just means nothing at all. You remember being roped in by the shy, tentative edge in his voice that reminded you when you first met him at the shop, where you first had been infatuated.

Rin hasn’t spoken to you since that night at your apartment. On one hand, while you’re worried that you might’ve said something out of line, and maybe that kiss came off too strong. Which, of course it fucking came off too strong. You kissed your best friend’s brother, and that just spells disaster on its own. Although, on the other hand, you’re glad that you guys are on a first name basis.

That’s fine. Rin seems to be going through a lot and the best professional way to handle this situation is to be… professional. Everything is all too much, and you've decided that you need to take a break.

That night, you’ve made a quick trip home after work to stay at your family’s. You don’t have time to mull over a certain junior of yours, not when you have your own things to take care of.

Your parents’ are currently on their anniversary date, leaving behind your two younger siblings all by themselves. You think two eight year olds could handle themselves just fine for a few hours but, then again, kids these days are just built differently.

You ended up ordering takeout and made them sit through a painstakingly long foreign film. Subtitles always put kids to sleep faster, you’ve learned. After carrying them to bed, you decide to spend the rest of your night sitting outside on the patio and wait for the return of your parents.

The skies are always clearer in the suburbs compared to the bustling city lights that pollute everywhere else. You sit down on a small plastic chair, one belonging to your siblings, and spend a good few minutes appreciating the twinkling stars and the raw smell of the countryside. You fix your gaze out in the distance, at the same hills and mountains the sprawling city overlooks.

Feeling inspired, you fish out your phone and decide to send Sae a quick picture of the surroundings with the caption ‘miss you loser :P’. It’s a small mini-game that you two started a year back, sending each other photos whenever away from campus, even though it’s mainly you sending the photos and he sends back middle finger emojis.

Though, as soon as you hit the send button, dread immediately fills your gut.

“Wait, shit, shit—wrong brother!”

Your heart hammers against your chest as you stare at the now seemingly flirty caption and, dear lord, your reputation might as well be down the gutters. This will go down as probably the most embarrassing moments of your life, and what makes things even worse is that you know Rin has seen it because three gray dots are now jumping up and down in the chat log.

God, what are you even supposed to say to that?

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: I’m sorry?

When you receive the responding text, you feel yourself losing ten years off your lifespan. You bury your face into your hands and whine, loudly.

This incident on top of whatever the hell happened during the night of the storm… Rin probably thinks you’re a creep for doing this. You can already imagine how it’ll play out: Rin tells Sae that you’re harassing him, Sae stops being your friend, and you’ll probably have to drop out and move out of the country. Rin might never even show himself to you again, and that thought alone makes your throat tighten up.

However, before you can descend into further madness, if that’s even possible, your phone vibrates again. You swallow the needles in your throat and peek through the cracks between your fingers.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Looks nice.

And, to your surprise, there’s an image attached to the text. It’s a dim photo of his opened textbook, a filled in study guide sheet beside his laptop, and on the right side of his desk is a drink from the cafe. You want to make a dumb oolong tea joke, but now you feel bad for disrupting his study session.

Then, another notification comes through.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Miss you too. :P

Your heart promptly multiplies into a thousand pieces. You lean into the chair, almost tipping yourself over. Your heart’s beating so hard that you can practically feel it pulse against your temples. Taking deep breaths, you don’t look at your phone until the urge to run away fades.

It feels like you're dreaming, and you know it’s absolutely stupid and silly, that you feel like you’re floating right into a dumb romance drama right now, but you can’t help it. Not when Rin is pulling stunts like this. He probably meant it as a joke, maybe only responded back to mirror you, who knows. But someone like him should not have the power to be so, so adorable under all that hard exterior. That’s just illegal…

“God,” your breath shudders out and you thumb over the keyboard to respond back.

[You]: didn’t mean to send that to you haha… ;; [You]: but i take it that studying is going well??

Rin replies back within seconds.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: I know. [Sae’s Brother!!!]: Studying’s been fine. Might need to look over something when we meet up again, if that’s okay. [You]: of course!! just lemme know what day works :)

Rin sends you a thumbs up emoji and you don’t get a response for a while after that, figuring that he probably went back to work. It doesn’t matter anyway, because it feels like a hundred pounds just got lifted from your shoulders and you feel so light that you’re convinced that you can see the stars even clearer now.

Thank the heavens he didn’t make it weirder than it already was.

Fuzzy-brained, you decide that it might be best to call it a night and retreat back into the house and towards your old bedroom. Even while laying down on your plush mattress, curled up, with the aircon on blast, you couldn’t fall asleep — at least, not for a long while.

By the time you pass out, it’s from sheer exhaustion and adrenaline rush. Your phone remains gripped against your chest as you sleep, and you end up missing another message from Rin late in the night.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Your manager doesn’t make good oolong. Come back soon.

There are several moments when you tell yourself you need to take a couple steps back. That you really, really need to calm down about Itoshi Rin.

The rest of the week comes and goes. You haven’t seen Rin in a few days. You guys sorta text, with him giving you curt updates on his assignments, but Rin goes long periods of time without replying. And, when he does reply, even though it’s just a text on screen, you get a distinct idea that he’s probably tired. So most of the time you end up lounging around at Sae’s apartment, busying yourself with your own assignments and bothering Sae about the end of the year assessment. And maybe you mope to him about his younger brother. Just a little bit.

“Does Rin hate me?”

“Why do you ask?” You could practically hear the eye roll in his response.

You feel a bit juvenile when you explain the reasoning, it’s obvious in your tone. “He’s, um, been kinda dry.”

“Is water dry?”

“...No?”

“Then there’s your answer,” Sae yawns and flips to the next page in whatever new psychological thriller novel he picked up. “Should feel lucky that he’s even responding back, I barely get an emoji out of him.”

Part of the fun thing about being friends with Sae is having full 24 hour access to his apartment. Whenever you’re running low on food, it doesn’t matter if it’s milk or potatoes, somehow there’s always extras at his place. The least fun thing about being friends with him is that he’s god awful at keeping up with conversations. Or, at least in this case, giving you advice on how to approach Rin appropriately.

You decide to change up the topic, slightly. Your mind’s currently running on three shots of espresso and one shitty breakfast sandwich from the dining hall, not really the best combo, and the words start flooding out. “On a different note, if someone you kinda just met shows a side of them that they’ve probably never shown to anyone, how would you react?”

Sae straightens from the couch, eyes flickering to you then back to the book. “Depends on who it is,” he shrugs. He doesn’t sound too interested in the conversation.

“Wise words, I see…” you hum in deep thought. You begin strutting around the tiny living room, circling around in front of the TV and keeping a somewhat watchful eye on Sae as you choose your next words carefully. “What if… it’s like a big thing? Super pent up for so long that they just start pouring all their emotions onto you? How would you react to that?”

“Sounds like a weird person. I would probably leave,” Sae’s voice is dismissive.

You groan, fully understanding Rin’s personal dilemma. “At least pretend to be serious right now!”

And, with that, he shuts his book and rests his cheek against his palm, sighing. “Maybe they told you because they’re afraid of talking to their close friends. Or maybe they just feel comfortable around you, I don’t know. Since you’re so caught up about this… who are you talking about?”

Shit, he caught on.

Sae hardens his gaze on you, suspicion sprawled across his sharp features.

“I—um, uh, it’s a classmate of mine! We were going over grad school applications and they seemed really lost about if they wanted to apply or not… I was just a little surprised when they started talking about their insecurities with me, that’s all. We’re a little bit closer now, though…” your voice trails off and Sae cocks his head a little, pursing his lips, but decides to leave the topic be.

“Right, well… how are Rin’s studies coming along?” Sae asks after a long pause and backs out of your space.

It’s not like Rin’s doing terribly at his studies. He’s picking up some of the methods and variables faster than most people in your department, perhaps even learning at a faster pace than yourself. Though, and this is just an observation, you’ve noticed that Rin rarely takes notes in his classes. When he does, well, it’s sloppy and unfocused. You’re starting to worry, since his midterm is rounding the corner, and you’ve been itching to ask if he remembers the material or if he doesn’t care. You want to, really, but it’s technically not your job to look after him full-time.

Unless it totally has something to do with the weird family dynamic that you can never really nail down? Yeah, you’re definitely not sticking your nose into that mud anytime soon. The last time you did that, well…

“He’s doing fine!” You offer up that much. It’s a little taste of honesty. Not the full truth. Somehow, you know that Sae is damn well aware of that, too.

“As long as he’s motivated, that’s all that really matters.” Sae mumbles. He drops the conversation and it’s probably a good thing, because you can’t concentrate at all.

By the end of this particular meeting, you feel like you’re going to vomit. Your stomach has jumped into your throat, and you’re struggling to keep your breakfast down. It’s way too late to call out of work, so you power through and manage to make it in time for your shift. It’s not until you arrive that you notice a familiar tuff of black hair behind the register, eyes glimmering with all flirt and talk with a female student across the counter.

Then, it hits you, if there’s one person other than Sae who can give mildly okay advice, it’s him.

When the evening rush dies down, you relay the situation back to Oliver, throwing on the crucial details—well, minus the kiss—unfortunately you can’t risk that information going out of his mouth. Unlike Sae, he shows interest from the get go, providing you live reactions and commentary as the story continues. When asked for his thoughts, Oliver covered his face and howled in laughter for a long while, getting stares from customers, before leaning in and eyes you very seriously.

“Kid’s got a massive crush on you, that’s for sure.”

Oliver is obviously a better listener compared to Sae, but also has a tendency to stretch things out for dramatic purposes. You should’ve mentally prepared yourself for this.

“Wait a sec,” Oliver sits on the countertop, despite the rules encouraging against it written on the chalkboard behind him, ponders hard for a moment, and then, “You like him!”

You almost spill a shot of espresso all over your fingers, letting out a small screech, and look up, doing a bit of a double take at your friend. “Don’t you have better jokes to make?!”

Oliver tosses you a clean towel from underneath the counter space and offers an apologetic smile, but he looks amused. “You wanted my honest opinion. Hot, young stud falls for his tutor who also works as a barista? The prompt just writes for itself.”

You swallow a gagging noise. “Please don’t ever refer to Rin as a hot, young stud… even if it is true.”

“If we want to peel back several more layers, maybe this is all part of Sae’s elaborate plan to hook you up with someone.”

“Can’t you have another family emergency again?” You like Oliver. He’s possibly your only favorite coworker out of all the other part-timers, but you’re very unimpressed with him right now. “I’m still in college. You’re acting like I’m going to be forever alone, or something.”

“While that might be true,” Oliver agrees, mildly. “I still think the kid might just be bad with… y’know, showing emotions.” He motions his hands in a heart shape near his chest. “I was like that when I was his age, too.”

“Gross, now you’re just making yourself sound like an old man.” With that beard, it sure adds a few years to his face. No wonder he’s so popular with the ladies.

“You should be more honest with yourself,” he softly chastises, offering you a blueberry muffin that he definitely stole from the back. “Life would feel a lot easier.”

“You talk as if I’m a fictional character in some stupid story,” you sigh, gracefully accepting the baked good in defeat.

There’s a part of you that feels bitter after the conversation, afraid that he’s right. You’ve been solely focusing on your academics for the most part, and that’s not to say that you haven’t had others showing interest in you.

You remembered Oliver hounding you down on your very first day at the coffee shop, trying to get your attention by making you clean up his spills, not sure why he thought that was a good idea… Another guy from your department also tried hitting asking you out by creating a fake math problem that would eventually lead to him asking for your number, but the variables were messed up and all over the place that it didn’t make any sense.

You don’t put relationships on a high pedestal, and you don’t necessarily need to be in one right now. Maintaining a steady income and keeping your scholarship should be your top priority. That, and not falling for your best friend’s brother.

Things go uneventfully for a little while longer at the shop. You and Oliver were going to put on the latest episode of the Bachelor to pass the remaining shift but, by the time you were just about to finish setting up the monitor, the front door bell chimes.

You blink. You and Oliver are in the corner tucked at the back of the store. It’s ten minutes until closing and your stomach churns wildly at the thought of another inconsiderate customer. Because if it happens to be another frat guy ordering a “secret menu” item that some person made up on TikTok again… well, you’re gonna start crying.

“I’ll go take care of it,” you sigh, fishing out the store’s keys out of your pocket. “Just tell me who the guy ends up with.”

Oliver grins as he presses the play button. “Roger that, boss.”

You hadn’t really expected to see Itoshi Rin of all people to swing by.

He barely gets any words out when you emerge to the front counter, needless to say you were the same. After a few mindless scrabbling around and awkward shifting, Rin spits out that he needs an emergency tutoring session, back at his apartment of all places. And, at some point in the night, between your mind turning into mush and Rin refusing to look you in the eyes, Oliver sends you off a little early before you have the chance to help him close.

Which ultimately leads you off here.

“So, what’s the burning question you have for me?” you ask, setting down your book bag on the floor.

Rin’s apartment is a lot minimalistic compared to yours, and more on the traditional side. His place is a bit further out of the downtown area, into the quieter parts of Tokyo, but not terribly far from the school’s public transit. Here, the buildings aren’t skyscrapers and the traffic is manageable, which means a lot more parks and greenery.

Instead of a dining table with chairs, he opted for a low coffee table and cushions instead. There’s tatami flooring, a small bookshelf in the corner with organized sports magazines, textbooks, and a few horror films. Hanging on the walls are a variety of posters; most of them are famous foreign football players and some are a few popular movie covers.

The coffee table is placed right near his bedside, so it makes a perfect back rest for you. Rin keeps a small desk lamp on, he’s mentioned to you in passing that small amounts of warm lighting helps him focus. This setup is certainly a lot more comfortable compared to yours.

Rin decides to sit next to you this time, pulling out an array of notebooks from his bag and fidgets with his pens on the table before flipping to his last pages of notes. “It’s about… torque and resistance.” He buries half of his face into his palm as his fingers trace, almost obsessively, through the notes. From one glance, his writing looks coherent enough, better from when he first started out.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you keep a close eye on him. Rin is behaving rather strangely. Restless, agitated, annoyed, or a combination of all three. Though, a minute into the small lecture, Rin softly calls out your name. “Y-Yes?” you can begin to feel your neck growing dangerously hot.

“About that night, last week…” he finally pushes the words out, but lets them hang in the air, inconclusive.

Your cheeks flare up, and you turn away, clearly embarrassed. Suddenly, you feel like a complete idiot all over again. “I—I’m sorry about that,” you stammer out, staring down at your fingers. “I don’t know what came over me, everything was so dark and—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he consoles, quickly. “I’m glad that it happened. It was… I… it was good.”

It’s a bit of a rambling response, but it leaves you stunned and flustered, without even realizing it. You finally turn to look at him, eyes a little misty, your cheeks still warm. You’re relieved by Rin’s reply. You open your mouth to respond back, but nothing tangible comes out.

“I want it to happen again,” Rin finds himself saying, tone suddenly low and dark. He shoots you a look, one that you can’t quite interpret. It’s like he’s hovering somewhere between concern and fear that he’s pushing too far. And maybe he is, but you are too.

You let your legs slip out from underneath and you lean up against Rin’s bed. If it wasn’t there, you’d collapse for sure.

Rin follows suit but pulls away from you abruptly, and you manage to look up just in time to catch the flush in his cheeks and neck. It’s hard to see it in the dark but, if Rin’s body language is anything to go by, he’s incredibly embarrassed.

“Are you okay?” His voice is quiet, and you manage a shaky nod, but that nod is immediately followed by another involuntary sound from the back of your throat.

“I, um, should we tell…?”

You’re not entirely sure where Rin stands with his relationship with Sae, nor if both of you can predict the outcome of what would happen. Sae is still a close friend, but you can’t hide the fact that you like Rin away from him forever. Plus, would this even realistically work out? Graduate school, job interviews, things of that sort aren’t in Rin’s horizons, but…

“We don’t have to do anything right now,” he seems to catch on and clears his throat, looking away. “I just wanted to make my feelings clear.”

You briefly think back to Oliver’s advice earlier in the night, about being more honest with your feelings. How things will magically become easier. It’ll be unfair if you didn’t pour out your heart like Rin had done just now. But words can’t be the only way of showing your honesty.

“We can take it slowly,” you stumble out.

Screw it, maybe you can ask Sae for a favor after you’re done tutoring.

Those words seem to melt Rin’s hard exterior almost instantly. Wrapping both your arms around his neck, you press a chaste kiss to his inviting lips.

Rin doesn’t say anything else, but there’s another little teasing nudge of his shoulder bumping against yours, and it somehow communicates more than it should.

taglist: @hellothere9597 @itzmeme @scaraslover @kidd3ath @torureadz

a/n: hi again everyone... if you've made it this far - thank you ;; this piece might just be the longest fic i've ever written (to date...) and tbh im not sure if i like it ? maybe i do idk!! there were so many times i wanted to throw my laptop against the wall gaah did you know that i originally wanted sae to come in and interrupt towards the end? thank god i didnt otherwise our two main love birds wouldn't have been able to kiss... anyways, ty for reading and hopefully you'll see me around more <3 <3 ty i love you

#blue lock #doobea writing #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #blue lock x gn reader

571 notes · View notes

costinblazetwice · 6 months

Text

Momo and The Scent In The Dance Room

Male Reader X Momo

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: The inspiration for this was to give more attention to the scents/smell of smut activities which I believe to be the most neglected of the 5 senses in writings, including my own. I could see why as it’s difficult, and often a bit too raw and dirty to write out but I enjoyed the writing this one, finding it a good challenge. If you have any thoughts or feedback I’d love to hear from you.

Also Happy Late Birthday Momo you are the cutest 🍑 in the world!

Scent is the most under appreciated of all the senses in the act of sex. Now you and your girlfriend Hirai Momo were guilty of also ignoring this powerful sense, focusing more on the touch, sight, taste, and hearing when alone in your bedroom.

But this all changed the night you stayed behind with Momo at the dance studio, you and your girlfriend shifting between different positions, bodies moving on instinct to the music being played on the speakers. The sound of your guys’s sneakers squeaking on the wooden floor blended in with the pop song being played loudly as the two of you moved to the rhythm, eyes on your own reflections in the gigantic mirror in front of you.

You were a couple of steps behind of course, which should be expected as your girlfriend is the dancing queen. But what surprises you most is how her speed hasn’t slowed at all despite the overwhelming heat in the room. Raising the temperature to such levels was her idea, some days choosing to keep it very cool and on this day very warm. This was Momo’s way of really pushing her body, making sure she has the ability to dance regardless of temperature.

“No more, I need a break,” you pant over the music. Momo doesn’t hear you or maybe she does but doesn’t acknowledge, her eyes still on her reflection and caught in a trance as her body grooves to the beat.

As you rest your back on the corner of the wall you take the chance to observe your charming girlfriend. She’s wearing a regular pare of sweats but what catches your eyes is how drenched her ass is from all the sweating and how you could make out the lines of her panties underneath. It didn’t help that she has a visible wedgie, her panties and pants having their fabric pulled into her ass, something that some may find embarrassing to watch but you find rousing. It is quite common in explosive dancing for your under garments to find themselves in uncomfortable positions and adjusting it continuously could become a hassle, so just leaving it be until after the session is over isn’t a bad idea.

Your eyes then move to the mirror where you see her reflection, watching attentively as the dance choreography involves a lot of lifting of the arms which allows you to catch continuous sights of her underarms, completely drenched with sweat and glistening under the light of the dance studio.

She was so seductive in these moments and watching her in her element like this, a sweaty and dirty mess that she was made it hard to turn away the dirty thoughts that were appearing.

The music finally comes to an end and Momo bends down resting her hands on her knees, sweat drops dripping from the tip of her nose, abs soaked as well with her navel visible from the tank top she’s wearing, abs tightening as she takes sharp intakes of air.

At this point the yearning for your girlfriend increases, you becoming more eager to quench this thirst that no doubt has been made in part by the rousing heat in the room, your body wanting nothing more than to cool down by removing your clothing and preferably hers as well.

“Ah, that was good,” Momo huffs as she picks herself up. “We’ve been going at it for a few hours now. I think that should be good.”

“I didn’t know this is what you go through each day,” you comment as you wave your shirt back and forth trying to find some coolness in this heat.

“I thought I’d make it extra rough since you wanted to join in today,” she teases, walking over to the wooden table by the doors entrance, pausing her phone to prevent the next song from being played.

Her back is turned to you as you watch with your heart racing, her bra strap visible from under her top, the drenched sweatpants, and the bitter scent in the air of her and your sweat combined made for a tantalizing experience. Maybe it was the pheromones that were guiding you but either way you bring yourself over to her, caressing her ass with your hands as you pressed light kisses to her neck.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind doing something else that’s a bit rough,” you whisper into Momo’s ear as her eyes flutter, a low moan escaping her lips as you can see clearly she’s in heat herself and wants you just as bad despite not showing any clear signs earlier in the day, but then again you do know of Momo’s habit. Sometimes she’d watch you when you didn’t know, mesmerized by the way you move, your smile, and by the overall energy you bring. You typically wouldn’t even know about it until the clothes came off and you two would engage in some pillow talk.

“I-It’s getting late… and besides, this is the trainees room,” she stutters out unconvincingly as you know she wants this just as bad as you do. This was her way of playing tease, push and pull.

“The windows are tinted,” you grunt in her ear, tongue cleaning up some of the sweat on her shoulders but ends up making it a bit more messy. “And besides it’s late at night. It’s probably just you and me in the building. You’ve got the keys, no?” Turning her around so she now faces you, smirking when she gives a reluctant nod with eyes fluttering, her face reddened and her lower lip quivering.

“You’re just so fuckable,” you whisper as you bring your lips onto hers, initiating the first romantic encounter you two have had all day, knowing just how much Momo was aching for this as well. She was a homebody after all and loved being alone in your embrace, sometimes just watching tv with your cock warming her core or yours fingers lightly rubbing her cunt as you laid in bed after a tiring day.

Not being able to touch you all day as she was focused on her dance routine and on giving you the dancing experience made her an erotic mess, the anticipation building within her for this moment. Momo gets extremely horny on the days she does her intense exercise routines.

She knew what she was doing of course when she’d flash you her backside throughout the day, clear visible lines of her panties moistened and being pulled into her ass, her towel completely dry as she hadn’t bothered wiping off the sweat that had accumulated knowing you had your eyes on her throughout the day.

You guys had you lips locked, Momo being the first one to slip in her tongue, showing that despite the initial protest she was more than willing to help push the pace.

You and Momo stand in the middle of the room, tongue to tongue with your bodies pressed to each other. You can feel the sweat off Momo’s damp clothing as you press to each other, the sweat proof of the physical work the two of you have been putting in for the last few hours.

You tug at Momo’s tank as she raises her arms giving you room to pull it off, though it takes some tugging as it sticks to her body, the material of the shirt hugging at her due to the excess sweat. She tugs at yours as well as you break the kiss, throwing your own shirt off to speed up the process. Momo steps back and begins to unclasp her black bra, dropping to the ground as she lightly kicks it to the side.

“In a rush are we?” You tease as she rolls her eyes, your eyes glued to her full breasts with their firmness in shape, the nipples a bright pink which slowly harden from the sudden exposure out of her bra. She bends down to deal with her sneakers and you get the full view of her drenched cleavage where the sweat looks to have built up, tiny individual drops rolling down ever so slowly and coming into contact with her areola before dripping to the ground. Your desire to have your mouth nibble at her perfect perky pink nipples leaves you with a growing bulge in your sweatpants.

You proceed to quickly tear off your own undergarments, tossing them to the side and not even taking the time to untie your shoes properly, instead opting to rip them off roughly and toss them anywhere that wasn’t directly in front of you.

You were left in your birthday suit, your massive erection pointing directly in Momo’s direction who has her shoes and socks off, but struggles with the sweatpants which stick to her toned legs as did the tank to her upper body earlier. The sweatpants turns inside out as she forcefully removes it off her feet, the inside of the sweatpants showing small patches of sweat that had built up over the dance session. You don’t opt to help her with removing her clothing, but rather stand there stroking your cock slowly, pre cum beginning to droop on your palm leading to the head of your cock to become quite sensitive as the liquid sticks to the tip.

This was a a sight you wanted to savor, your beautiful girlfriend a sweaty mess trying her quickest to get her clothes off so she could be stretched by you.

Just watching made your mouth dry despite the recent mouth-watering tongue to tongue action you two had when you were tongue deep in her mouth and vice versa. You watch as your girlfriend slowly takes her panties off with the wetness from between her crotch sticking to the fabric of the panties, breaking apart the further she pulls them down before she tosses them aside where they land next to her bra. There was a very obvious patch of her juices covering the area where the cunt sits on her panties and you were definitely going to find an excuse to keep those for later.

You walk slowly to Momo, hands immediately caressing her backside as your mouth crashed with hers, no longer dry as your tongues swirl in each others mouth, breath hitching between you two as you both need to break to take a sharp intake of breath. “Are you trying to eat my mouth?” She says playfully in between the kiss and all you can do is grunt in response, finding the taste of her mouth ecstatic and the sound of your entangled tongues lewd and lascivious. Your cock rested on her stomach causing the tip of your throbbing penis with its growing precum to touch her abs, causing a jolt to run through you due to the sensitivity of your cock’s head, your precum sitting nicely atop her naval area.

As you pull away you’re suddenly reminded of the dance practice where your eyes were pulled to her armpits. How nice they looked every time they were exposed and how you, in that moment, understood why some people really find armpits very attractive. Might as well give it a try.

You lift her arms up as she looks at you confusingly with a pout and her brows furrowed, pressing your tongue against her glistening armpit as she lets out a cry, not expecting the sudden sensation.

“N-not there babe,” Momo sighs as you let your tongue lather her underarm, Momo fidgeting under the ticklish touch of your tongue. This was a completely new experience for the two of you. The thought of eating her armpit out as though it was her cunt was never something that really crossed your mind but the way it was saturated with sweat as she danced just looked so… beautiful.

It doesn’t make sense, but then again it’s late at night in a dance studio and you two are naked in a room brimming with humidity. Now was not the time to worry about being “normal.”

Momo squirms as you continue to flicker your tongue at her armpit. Your other hand slides down Momo’s abdomen until you reach her cunt, using your fingers to rub at her folds as her whimpers now become drawn out moans, her hips bucking as the pace with which you rub her sensitive area hits a frantic pace.

Her armpit itself was smooth with there being a salty taste to it, unsurprising as it was where the sweat had built up throughout the dance practice.

You could feel your hands moistened from her cum as you finally pull yourself off of her underarm, gauging Momo’s reaction to see how she took that sudden fondling. Her red lipstick was slightly smeared with the plumpness of her lips sharing a resemblance with her throbbing pussy lips which itself was heavy with arousal, hair a disheveled mess with her bangs sticking to her forehead messily, and breathing heavy with her knees lightly trembling from the pleasure. You took that as a very good sign.

“That’s off the bucket list,” you joke as Momo responds with “Never knew you wanted to fuck my armpits.”

“Neither did I,” you whisper to yourself, surprised at you own sudden attraction to her underarm.

“Wait a second babe, I’m sweating up a storm here,” Momo says breaking the hold you had on her to make her way to the thermometer on the other side of the room when you stopped her, grabbing her by the wrists and turning her around. You wrap your arms around her legs before lifting Momo up as she lets out a shuddering cry at suddenly being lifted in the air.

“It’s kinda nice like it is, don’t you think? Makes this more hot, figuratively and literally,” You ask as you see her pull a sheepish smile while shaking her head, probably thinking how big of a perv you are but knowing that she was one too deep down.

With that reassurance Momo wraps her legs around your waist as you walk over to the long table where your phones and other gadgets sit and set her down.

Momo’s bare cheeks on the table causes a chill to run through her body as you spread her legs, bending down and planting a trail of kisses along Momo’s inner thighs, taking your time to get to her pretty pink pussy.

It’s a much dirtier scent than that of which you’re used to when having sex with a clean bathed Momo who typically smells of her peach creams and high end perfumes.

This on the other hand is more erotic and defiled, a scent of a woman who is at her most raw and most dirty, who has spent the last few hours engaging in intense bodily work which is responsible for this bitter scent which you find utterly arousing. It’s a musky smell that is quite strong on the nose, a bitter tinge to it but you find yourself loving even this part of your dancing queen girlfriend. This smell is raw, more carnal and frankly for some, maybe even gross.

This is the reality of sex outside of scented perfumes and shampoos. This is an unclean eroticism, the dirtiness of it feeling deeply primal. Momo herself doesn’t seem to care or worry that her scent may be coming off as more harsh than usual as her mind is simply on the toe curling pleasure that you are putting her through. And you don’t care either as you find the scent intoxicating and this entire situation exciting, wanting nothing more than to ravish Momo as though you two were wild animals wanting to engage in each others body in their most dirty state.

You press your mouth to her cunt and immediately taste the zesty and salty pussyfolds that are lubricated with her juices but also moist from sweat. “Fuck baby, do it like you always do,” Momo groans as her hands begin to softly tug at your dampened hair.

“Of course, love. I know just how you like it.”

First you inhale and then blow at her cunt, causing her to squirm at the sudden cool air and causing her to let out a whimper, her legs tapping quickly on the wooden floor, loving the feeling as goosebumps being to appear throughout her body. You lift her legs up so they’re now resting on your shoulders to give you deepest access to her folds. First you nibble at her clit, sucking on it as your fingers pump her inside, your hand moistened more and more each time you plunge in and out.

“Keep going babe,” Momo begs and you continue to give her what she wants. You trace around Momo’s pussy with your tongue, the salty taste being quite strong to swallow but you don’t mind in your current state of impassioned ecstasy. You take time to tease her as well, taking your mouth off of her lower lips and instead using your tongue to lap at her inner thighs.

“Not right now, Y/N,” she whines as you smile to yourself while nibbling the inside of her thigh before returning to the intoxicatingly musky cunt in front of you.

You let your tongue rest just above the clit where her neatly trimmed hair sits, now a disheveled mess from being drenched in sweat, and proceed to go up and down in a completely straight line as your tongue lathers up her sex, Momo letting out desperate, filthy noises in response. You go low enough to where your tongue is now lightly brushing against her taint. You flick at it, letting the tangy scent so close to her nether area intoxicate you with its strong aroma. Momo can only let out soft whimpers in response.

Now you return to her swollen cunt where you part her lips and stick your tongue into her hole, starting off slow and controlled before going frenetic, licking up and down the entire cunt, even the very few trimmed hair she has down there getting caught up in your frantic pace.

“Fuck baby just like that,” Momo moans having her hands in your sweaty hair, gently pushing your face closer to her sex as she grinds her hips into your mouth. When Momo grinds into your face with her hips like that you know she’s getting desperate, wanting you to use your tongue to go deeper, make her pussy a sloppy mess.

You include your fingers as well, pumping her inner hole as your let your tongue nip at her bud that has slightly swelled due to arousal. Her wet juices and the sweat mix together to create a torrent of wetness that engulfs your fingers. Each time you pull out your finger it’s more damp than before, the wetness from her slit steadily increasing in quantity.

You lift yourself up, immediately crashing your lips onto hers, giving her the opportunity to taste herself, a little kink you know she has. Something about the idea of tasting herself always turned her on and the fact that the mediator is you makes it even better.

Tongues collide and you stay in this position allowing Momo to taste the lewdness of her most precious area. She moans into it and grabs the back of your neck with one hand, the other helping her keep balance as she leans back slightly on the table, desperate to get more of the taste that has her addicted, the mixture of her cum mixed with your hot breath, the bitter smell of her sex and the sharp scent of your sweat.

You step back from the kiss as her hot breath lingers on your face, admiring the work of art in from of you. Momo’s bangs were stuck to her forehead due to the lather from the sweat. Her cheeks flushed, sweat soaking her toned body with drops slowly tumbling down falling into her naval area, the small amount of pubic hair she has around her cunt being a mess from the mixture of sweat, your spit and her wetness.

There’s also a noticeable moist smudge where Momo’s ass sits on the table, accumulating over the time she’s spent sitting there as her body heat increased from the sex and the room temperature. The humidity of the room has turned you both into a sweating mess, but that only increases the carnal pleasure of the whole situation.

“I need to cum baby. You’ve made me wait long enough,” Momo hums to you as she lays down on the table, legs spread in the air with her hole in complete view, her folds wet and slathered in her cream.

“It’s getting hot in here. Let’s finish this up,” you reply with a low growl, using the heat of the room as the excuse for why you’re in a hurry, when the reality is that you don’t know how long you’ll be able to last without cumming.

You align your cock with her center, rubbing the head against the lips of her pussy, the warmth emanating from her slit and the friction of your most intimate parts causing the two of you to moan out, the noise coming from her closer to gasps and hums as the long night of pleasure has made her very sensitive down there.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” Momo spits as she lightly kicks at your abs with one of her legs that’s swaying in the air. You laugh at this, so deeply in love with this woman whom you have done so many dirty, perverted things with because she draws these parts out of you that you never knew you had.

And right now with her laying on the table, both her upper lips and pussy lips swollen, sweat covering her breasts and abdomen, and her bottom lip quivering in anticipation, you knew what you wanted most was to make this a night she’d never forget.

To have her remember that on this night you had reduced her to a sweating fuck bunny who didn’t care what smell she was emitting or what she tasted like. In this moment she was cock hungry, hungry for your cock, and all she wanted was for you to imprint yourself into her forever.

“Alright love, I’ll give you just what you want,” is your response as you bury your cock into her in one fell swoop, giving her no time to adjust as you immediately begin plunging yourself into her.

“Fuck you’re so big baby,” Momo sobs as your hands grip her waist, hands having a difficult time holding onto her as they begin to slip from the sweat, but you immediately adjust yourself anytime that happens, loving the way your hands sink into her sides making her slim abdomens that much more prominent.

She wraps her legs around your waist, making your heart throb furiously. “Fuck, you know what you’re doing you little fuck bunny,” you groan out as Momo gives you a little smirk in between her gasps and moans, knowing that the feeling of her legs wrapping around you is all it takes to push you over the edge.

Your pace becomes accelerated, the table wiggling under the pressure as Momo lets out high-pitched shrieks, feeling the heat pooling in her lower back, not just from the pool of sweat beneath her on the table but from the approaching climax causing her body to tremble.

Your hands grip Momo’s tits and begin to roughly pinch at her nipples, angry at yourself for not giving these beautiful bosoms more love earlier. The aggressive tug on her nipples has her cry out from the sting that now reverberates throughout her body but her focus is turned to the pleasure that’s about to burst like a dam within her.

“I’m gonna cum!”

Momo screams as you feel her clench around you, walls fluttering around your cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum too love,” is all your able to breathe out as your hips stutter, one last powerful thrust into Momo’s cunt as you spill yourself inside of her, body convulsing from the sheer pleasure. Your eyes drift to Momo who is breathing heavily, mouth wide open and eyes directed to you in a loving gaze.

You pulled your cock out and watched as your cum slowly drifted out, grabbing your towel which was nearby to wipe your falling semen.

“That was crazy,” Momo breathes out as she sits up and lifts herself off the table, falling into your arms as you two share a sheepish smile, embarrassment settling in after that animalistic fuck session.

She lets out an audible gasp when she turns around and sees the state of the wooden table that you two just fucked on.

“Is all of that seriously my sweat?” She asks in confusion pointing at the part of the table on which her ass sat and her back rested on, completely drenched with sweat. Well it’s not just sweat, some pussy juice too you thought to yourself.

“Good thing your towel’s still dry,” you chuckle, using her towel from before to wipe the table clean, though there’s not much you can do about the smell.

Momo goes to the corner of the room where she had thrown her clothes. She lifts her panties up and notices the damp patch where her slit directly sat, feeling bashful at the physical proof of her smutty behavior.

“Save that for me,” you yell looking in Momo’s direction as you roughly throw on your under garments, in too much of a daze from the pleasure to care about the dampness of the clothes that makes them feel heavier than usual.

“Save them?” Momo asks brows knitted in confusion.

“Yeah… I uh… think I’ve got a thing for smells now,” you explain bashfully, realizing how embarrassing it is to tell the girl in front of you how turned on you are by her bodily scent.

“I just think you smell hot,” you blurt out, eyes directed to the floor. You look up and glance at Momo’s face to gauge her reaction to your sudden confession, but to your surprise she wasn’t looking at you but rather around the room, nose continuously sniffing.

“Speaking of smells… what are we gonna do about the room?”

Good question. Your guys’s nose had adapted to the tangy, bitter smell of sex in the air but what would the inhabitants tomorrow think? It was pretty obvious that a cunt was ravished in this room judging from the scent.

Oh well, not much you can do today.

You pick up your phone and see that the time is well passed midnight. That would be a problem for the two of you trying to get back home in damped clothing. You suddenly got an idea.

“Let’s just sleep over.”

“Huh?” Momo responds in confusion.

“Why not? It’s super late and it’s not like we can clean the smell in this room. None of us brought any perfume with us. Might as well wait until it’s gone in the morning, and we can then empty it out for the trainees.”

You could see on Momo’s face that she wasn’t entirely convinced, looking at you completely deadpan.

“They’ve got a shower here, don’t they?”

Upon hearing that you see Momo’s eyes flash, giving in to your idea.

“Well.. alright. I don’t think it’s a bad idea to stay especially since it’s so late and our clothes are so dirty. But we have to be up by 8 and empty out, you hear me?”

You nod your head, knowing that the doors open at 8 for the rookie trainees while Momo and the rest of the more seasoned veterans have 24 hours access with their keys. The only rule was that certain rooms had to be emptied by 8 in the morning, one of them happening to be the room you two were in.

“Let’s hope the smell clears up by morning,” Momo murmurs as she begins to put on her panties, causing you to internally groan, hoping those would be the pair that you’d get to keep as a memento for today.

“I’ll hop in the shower. By the time we wake up tomorrow our clothes should be dry,” she states, fully clothed and keys in hand.

“You know, now that I’m thinking we do have this place all to oursel-“

“No way mister.”

She cuts you off with a stern face. You knew what her answer would be, going for round 2 here being counterproductive to wanting the scent of sex in the air removed, but you thought you’d give it a try.

Momo gives you a smile, finding your behavior enduring. “I’m off then, bye.”

She blows you a kiss as you wave her off. It was an exciting day and you got to see a side of yourself that you didn’t know you had, while also seeing a side of Momo you hadn’t seen before. Or better said… hadn’t smelled before.

#twice smut #male reader #twice x reader #girl group smut #gg smut #momo smut #female idol smut #male reader smut #twice momo smut

606 notes · View notes

number1mingyustan · 5 months

Text

-Cuffing Season-

Your Call

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, cursing, explicit smut, mutual masturbation (m+f), virtual sex, size kink, fingering (f.)

Summary: Even a thousand miles away you still have the same effects on him

Word Count: 1.8k

_______________________________________________

(a/n: i'm baaaack!! im so sorry for going MIA I was busy with school and now that I'm on break I've had literally no motivation to write but I've got a few more drafts I'm working on so expect me to be more active!)

The hotel door swings open and Mingyu walks through it, hand already pulling at the navy blue tie draped around his neck.

He undoes it with one hand before dropping it onto the carpeted hotel floor. He lets out a sigh of pure exhaustion and leans his back against the wall as his briefcase meets the floor.

He’s been in meetings all day and tired can’t even describe what he’s feeling right now. He’s away from you in Tokyo on a business trip and he’s miserable. His days prior to this were light, a meeting here and there and a couple of conventions. But today?

Back-to-back meetings with potential investors and clients have worn him out. He hasn’t even gotten the chance to call you yet today.

For the two weeks, he’s called you at least three times and you’ve texted back and forth every day. Now it’s nearing 1am and he hasn’t spoken to you at all.

He strips himself down to his boxers and lays down on top of the bed. He scrambles for his phone and immediately dials your number.

You pick up on the first ring. “Gyu?”

“Hi baby,” He rasps.

"Was beginning to think you forgot about me," you pout.

"Never, I was just swamped. I knew it was gonna be a heavy day, but I had literally no time to myself. I just now got back to the hotel," he sighs.

"You work so hard babe," You say. "I'm proud of you, but take it easy."

He nods. "It'll only be this bad for the next few days. I think it'll be worth it though, seems like a lot of good can come out of this for the company."

You shift on the bed, making yourself more comfortable as you lie down. "That's good Gyu, I would hope so."

The call goes silent for a few moments. You can hear each other breathing lightly into the phone as you lay in comfortable silence.

"I really miss you," Mingyu says, finally breaking the silence.

"I know, I miss you too." You sigh. "I've been miserable without you. I'm so lonely here, we should've gotten like a cat or something."

Mingyu lets out a breathy chuckle. "Noted. It'll be the first thing I do when I come home next week."

"Ugh," You groan dramatically. "Don't remind me I have to wait a whole week to see you again."

You can practically hear him smiling into the phone. "A week can go by fast, don't worry. I'll be home in no time."

"Good," You smile. "Bed's cold without you here."

"Must be," He yawns.

"Yeah Gyu, I hate it. Need you here now," Your voice is just above a whisper.

"What are you wearing?" He asks.

"You want me to tell you or show you?" You ask.

"Fuck," he whispers. "Show me."

Before he can even finish his thought, his phone is already ringing with an incoming Facetime call. He presses on the green button and sees you adjusting the camera.

Your phone is leaning against something to hold it up and you're sitting crisis cross applesauce on the bed in front of him. "Hi Gyu."

"Hi pretty girl," He smirks.

He rises to his feet, holding his phone in hand as he makes his way over to the desk in his room. He sits down, angling the camera so you can see him.

"Really missed you today," You tell him.

"Missed you too," He licks his lips. "You wearing my shirt?"

You nod. "Yeah. Still smells like you and everything."

You pick up the phone, angling it down so he can see the black and white striped button-up you have on. It fits you big, coming down mid-thigh.

He rasps. "Looks good on you baby."

"It does, doesn't it?" You smirk. "Think it might look better off though, right?"

Suddenly Mingyu isn't sleepy anymore.

"Shit baby, don't do this to me. You know I'm going crazy cuz I can't touch you," He groans, tilting his head back.

"This is the next best thing, no?" You lick your lips, allowing your hand to undo the first button.

"Damn right, it is," He agrees, slipping his hand into his boxers. To no one's surprise, he's already sprouting a semi at the mere thought of having phone sex with you.

It was only a matter of time before this happened anyway. You and Mingyu would rarely go this long without being intimate with one another.

"You didn't seriously call me in nothing but your underwear and expect me not to want you Gyu," You breathe out.

"Didn't do it on purpose sweetheart," He grins.

You've already undone half the buttons of his shirt. He can see your bra peaking through the open material. His cock twitches in anticipation.

He watches like a hawk as you slide the shirt off your shoulders and let it fall off your body entirely. "Shit," he whispers.

You're kneeling in front of the camera in nothing but your bra and underwear. It's a matching lavender set that he bought you a while back.

His eyes are glued to his screen as he watches you. You play with your bra straps, sliding them off your shoulders slowly to expose your breasts to him. He lets out a low groan and feels his cock harden more in his boxers.

He's suddenly feeling suffocated by the material on his hips. He sits up, sliding his underwear off and exposing his leaking cock. He lets out a breath of relief as he wraps his hand around his length.

He swipes his thumb across the tip, using the bit of precum to lubricate his cock. He licks his lips slowly, watching you as you slide your soaked underwear off your body.

"You're so big," you whisper. You're practically drooling at the sight of his cock.

He spits on his hand and starts pumping himself slowly. "Touch yourself f'r me."

You sit back on the bed and slide your hand down between your thighs. He watches as you spread your legs, revealing just how soaked you were for him.

You let out a shaky breath as your finger circles your clit.

"Need you so bad Gyu," You whine.

'i'm here baby-fuck," he groans.

He pumps his length faster, gliding his hand along his hard cock as he watches you touch yourself. He strokes himself, swiping his hand across the sensitive tip every time he pumps himself.

"Inside me.. need you inside me," You whimper. You slip two fingers into yourself slowly. You spread your legs wider to give him a better look. You push your fingers deeper, curling your digits against your inner walls.

"Soon baby, 'm all yours." He breathes out.

"You're so big Gyu, want you to fuck me so bad-ah," You pump your fingers deeper inside of yourself, desperately trying to coax yourself toward an orgasm.

"F-fuck y/n... keep talking," He drops his head back and groans. His muscles are bulging and his grip on his cock is tightening. "Missed your voice."

Even through the low quality of your phone camera, Mingyu was still in awe of you. His eyes were hyperfixated on the way your fingers disappear deep inside of you. His hips jerk up into his fist, warm blood pumping through his veins and making his limbs grow hot with arousal.

You lean back, fingers tightening around his bedsheets clumped in your hand as you push your hips into your hand. "Hah- my fingers are hardly big enough. Need your cock baby–" You whine.

You curl your fingers the same way he does when he touches you, pressing your fingertips against your inner walls. The sensation has your toes curling with a familiar feeling building up inside of you.

His dick twitches in his hand. Fuck, he's so reactive when it comes to you. No one can make him feel the way you do. He lets out a low groan, squeezing the head of his cock to stop himself from cumming when he hears you.

You continue pushing your hips into your hand with erratic movements. You look at your screen, watching your boyfriend strokes his cock. You watch the way his large hand glide along the length of his cock.

"Gyu–fuck, I'm cumming," You warn him.

Mingyu stops holding back the second the words pass your lips. He speeds up his hand, loosening his grip every so slightly. You cum together, bodies shuddering with sloppy movements as you drive yourselves into a state of euphoric pleasure.

He fights to keep his eyes open. They remain half lidded as he refuses to rip his eyes way from the scene before him. He's fixaed on the way your fingers dip into your pussy, coating them with more of your slick arousal as your body spasms and jerks.

He can feel the way his load spills all over his hand and onto his lower abs, but he can't take his eyes off of you. He missed being able to see you fall apart. It's one of his favorite views. Even a thousand miles away, he was still going to see it for himself.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you come down. You draw your slick fingers out of your hole slowly, licking your lips as you tap back into all of your senses.

He blinks slowly as he comes down from his high. He grabs a tissue from the desk, cleaning up the mess on his skin. He discards it and slouches against the chair.

"Can't believe we just did that," He lets out a breathy chuckle.

"Thought it would've happened sooner. Been expecting it since your first night away," You smirk.

Mingyu yawns and decides to call it a night. He grabs his phone, plugging it into the charger and pulling his boxers back up onto his waist.

"Sleepy?" You ask.

"Exhausted," He turns off the lights and climbs under the hotel bedsheets. "I feel a lot better though."

"Good," You say.

You mirror his actions, redressing yourself, turning off the lights, and plugging your phone into the charger before climbing under the bedsheets. You're yawning too, snuggling in the sheets with your boyfriend on the phone.

The call goes quiet and it doesn't take long before both of you are fast asleep.

Mingyu can't wait to go back home and sleep next to you properly. For now, FaceTime calls will have to do. But once he can have you in his arms again, his home will feel complete again.

——————————————————————————

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #seventeen drabbles #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu drabbles #mingyu svt #kim mingyu smut #svt mingyu #mingyu fanfic #mingyu #cuffing season #kpop

427 notes · View notes

tallulah477 · 5 months

Text

Keep Me Warm

Kinkmas Day 1: Cockwarming

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Na'vi!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Somnophilia, Fingering, P in V, Cockwarming, Obsessive/Possessive behavior

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: Happy Day 1 of Kinkmas!

Summary: Neteyam wakes up from a dream, hard and aching, and can't help but want to feel you wrapped around his cock, keeping him warm.

Translations:

Tewng - Loincloth

Tìyawn - Love

Mawey - Calm

He wants to be inside of you so badly.

Your warm body is pressed snuggly against his front, his arm slung securely over your waist to keep you close. Even his tail has wrapped itself around your thigh, intent on keeping you next to him even in sleep - as if you would ever want to be anywhere else.

His dreams so far have been kind, yet cruel.

You star in all of them - your beautiful body teasing him with promises of fulfilling what he wants. He had you bent in half, twisted around and into yourself as he plowed into you from whatever position he wanted. He still remembers how you looked, dream you mimicking real you to the point where it's difficult to see the distinction. The overwhelming intensity and pleasure written clearly on your face when he fucked into you, the same one you wore just earlier in the night as he dragged orgasm after orgasm from your exhausted body with his tongue, and then his cock.

You had both been exhausted before the night ended, sweating and panting as you moved together on the woven mat inside your shared hut, cut off from the rest of the world. Just you and him, together - both in the physical sense as well as the literal. Him inside you, stretching your walls out as you writhed underneath him, him fitting inside you like a perfect puzzle piece.

The dreams are beautiful, realistic and sweltering in the way he knows being with you to be. But they are brutal when they ultimately crash into reality, the excitement coursing through his body enough to cause the dreams to break down around him, your false image fading into nothing but a memory as he jolts awake - hard, aching, and unsatisfied.

It’s a testament to how obsessed with you he is that even in his dreams he can’t stand to be away from you for even a moment. He needs to feel it - needs to feel how your pussy clenches around his cock, trying to suck him in further and refusing to let him free. Needs to feel how wet you are for him, so he knows that he’s the only one who can ever make you feel that turned on, that desperate, and oh so fucking needy for him.

He needs to know he’s not the only one dying for it.

His fingers move lightly against the soft skin of your stomach, knuckles sliding back and forth just above your belly button before dipping lower, fingertips tracing the invisible line of where the band of your tewng would sit, if you were wearing one. His lips brush gently against your shoulder, pressing kiss after kiss along the available canvas of skin until his lips nibble playfully on the back of your neck. The sensation would have sent you into a fit of giggles had you been awake. But all it does is make you tilt your head slightly, nuzzling further into the mat, a heavy sigh falling from your lips - but still, you don’t wake.

Neteyam’s roaming fingers travel lower, sliding between your closed thighs and working his hand between them with practiced grace. He’s always been insatiable when it comes to you. You knew that going into the relationship with him, and there've been many nights where you’ve woken up with his hand between your thighs or his cock sliding against your ass. You’ve never minded before - you love the idea that he needs you so bad he can’t wait to have you. And your body unconsciously reacts to his demanding touch.

He groans against your shoulder when he feels how wet you are already - so soft, and silky, and slick for him. Were you dreaming about him too? Thinking about how you need his big cock inside you more than you need air to breathe?

His fingers play around in your wetness as he mouths at the back of your shoulder, long skillful fingers circling your clit and he hides his grin with his teeth pressed against the curve of your shoulder when you moan quietly in response. His cock throbs against his thigh, the swollen tip smearing precum along one of your asscheeks when he can’t help but rock against you.

He can’t take it anymore, can’t wait another second without feeling your soaked pussy wrapped around his needy cock. Neteyam moves carefully, movements slow and purposeful so as to not wake you. He climbs over your sleeping body, holding himself over you for a few seconds just to watch your eyelashes flutter and the gentle rise and fall of your chest. You look so peaceful - so comfortable and at home on your shared mat.

Great Mother, he wants to eat you alive.

With another skillful movement, he’s on his side again, this time in front of you so you’re face to face. He leans forward, tongue daring to swipe across your bottom lip, just wanting to taste you, his large hand cradling the back of your thigh. He hauls your leg up, hooking your thigh around his hip, spreading you out just enough for him to slide his cock against your dripping folds. The quiet moans that fall from your parted lips as the tip of his cock glides past your clit are like music to his ears.

He positions himself at your entrance, the head nuzzling carefully at the wet hole before slowly pushing inside. His breathing is shallow as he pushes in further, feeling every single inch of your tight, gummy walls as they contract around him - making room for him and welcoming him into their depths. Your face changes the deeper he goes, eyelashes fluttering more abruptly, cheeks twitching as your moans turn into pitiful whines.

Your eyes fly open the second he bottoms out inside you, desperate whimpers of his name caressing his eardrums as your hands reach out for him, still dazed and eyes glassy from an interrupted sleep. He quickly wraps an arm around you, sitting up and pulling you with him so you sit flush on his lap as he coos in your ear.

“Shh, tìyawn. Relax,” He whispers. “Just wanted to feel you.”

“Teyam, please,” You whine, arms winding around his neck to keep him close. You’re fully awake now, the large cock currently sitting in your guts is making sure of that.

He feels so big inside you, so hard and thick as he keeps you split open on him. You can feel how his cock twitches inside of you, pulsing against your walls. He lets out a shaking breath when they flutter around him, the wetness from your core running down and dripping over his swollen, heavy balls.

“You feel so good,” He breathes, golden eyes slipping shut as he shudders. “Made for me, right? This pussy was made for me, to keep me warm and safe.”

You can’t help the way you pant, dripping on him and making him all wet and sticky with your slick, hips unconsciously trying to rock against him to get any kind of friction. But he doesn’t move - doesn’t lie back and tell you to ride him, doesn’t flip you over and start the punishing pace of pounding into your already battered cervix until you see stars. Instead, he keeps you there, gentle hands sliding soothingly along your back to keep you calm as he kisses your cheek.

“Mawey, ma y/n,” He says, groaning slightly when you wriggle on his lap a little too much, the clench of your pussy around his throbbing cock is almost enough for him to put an end to his little game. He quickly grabs your hips in his strong hold, keeping you still despite your confused cry. “Mawey,”

Your hand unwinds from his neck, snaking down play with your aching clit, but you only get one small touch at it - just enough for a shot of pleasure to shoot up your spine at the touch - before his hand pulls yours away again.

“Behave,” He warns, kissing your palm and guiding your hand back around his neck.

“Teyam, move,” You beg. “Please move.”

Neteyam shakes his head and silences any continued begging with a slow kiss. “I’ll fuck you, I promise. Just keep my cock warm for a little longer, okay?”

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow

#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✎#Avatar12DaysofKinkmas #neteyam smut #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader smut

589 notes · View notes

heaven4lostgirls · 6 months

Note

Hi!! I was just wondering if you could do a Finnick Odair x reader where Finnick is sick or something but refuses to ask for help because he is still being forced to do stuff for Snow and the reader eventually taking care of him after it gets really bad?

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warning: angst, mentions of blood, scarring, cuts and bruises, mentions of finnick's trafficking and panic attacks.

word count: 965 words

a/n: hi my love! thank you so much for the request! i hope this is what you imagined

Your heart clenches as you watch the clock tick on the wall of Finnick’s house within the victor’s village in district 4, Finnick was supposed to meet you over an hour ago however, as of late, he seems to be showing up later and later. The urge to bash your head into the wall in front of you out of frustration. You sigh softly before you hear the click of the door opening.

You look up and watch as Finnick stumbles into his house, clenching his side as he grits his teeth. You gasp softly which draws his attention to you. Your eyes are wide with shock and slowly start to fill with tears before he quickly hobbles his way to his room and then to his en-suite bathroom.

“Finnick!” you admonish as you watch his huff and wince as he clutches his side through his shirt, that he struggles to pull it over his head. You wonder if whether you should walk over and help him. You know more or less of what his visits to the Capitol were for, but you never knew that his…customers, were so harsh on him.

You let the tears welling in your eyes fall freely down your cheeks, which you hastily wipe, this has nothing to do with you. You walk swiftly over to Finnick as you watch him give up on trying to get his shirt off and instead dabbing the cuts on his face with alcohol.

“I’m assuming this is why you were late” you speak softly as you see him wince and look down in shame, your heart cracks at the embarrassed expression that floods his face. He nods in response, “Snow only let me know after I was done getting ready to meet you” he mutters as he scoffs, and you bite your lip to hold back a sob at his damaged self.

“Let me” you urge him as he tries to dab a cut on his cheek, you reach for the cotton pad but as your fingers come in front of his face, he flinches and backs away from you with a scared expression. “Finn?” you question his reaction, apologetic and scared of hurting him even further.

“Don’t!” he exclaims as you try to walk closer to him, “please don’t! no more!” he cries as his voice breaks and you immediately crouch next to him, careful not to touch him. “Hey hey, It’s Y/N, okay? I’m not going to hurt you” you soothe his incoherent mumbling as you speak to him in soft tones.

His panicked gaze meets yours and as his eyes shut in pain, you can only watch as tears fall from his eyes. You keep your expression calm and understand that you must put Finnick’s wellbeing before your own. “Can I touch you Finnick?” you ask him softly and as you wait for his soft nod; you encompass his frail form in a hug.

His body starts to shake as sobs wrack through it and you bite your lip to stifle your own sob. You hold him softly as you rock him back and forth as you let him cry it out, you know that he hasn’t been able to tell anyone about his circumstances with what Snow has been doing with him, but you know he needs you right now.

“I-I’m sorry” he blubbers through his tears that he tries to wipe away, but you softly place your hand on his as you wipe away his tears with the wrist of your shirt, “There’s nothing to be sorry for Finn, it’s perfectly alright” you say with a warm smile as you finish wiping his tears.

He looks up at you shyly, you stand up before outstretching your hand to help him up. He does so slowly before you manoeuvre him patiently to sit on the counter and as you stand in his open legs as you reach behind him for the cotton pad doused in alcohol.

“Let me help you, please Finnick” you plead into his gaze, and he waits a second before he nods softly. You take the cotton swab and delicately dab his cheek, stopping when he hisses too loud. Slowly but surely, you make your way through cleaning and treating his cuts and bruises.

As you softly pull his shirt over his head in slow and calculated motions, you’re met with the gory gaze of sharp cuts all over his side and back. You place your hand over your mouth in horror before you open your mouth to speak in a breathless manner, “this looks like they were made by a-” your sorrowful voice is interrupted by Finnick’s cold and distant one, “A whip” he says without emotion and wince.

“Oh Finn” you soothe, and he only shakes his head as he reaches for your hands, “I’m fine, I’m going to be okay” he says looking into your eyes. You grit your teeth as you watch him try to excuse what had occurred, “I’m going to kill Snow-” you utter before Finnick tuts at you.

“Calm down trouble.” He smirks at you, and you can only shake your head, “Finnick look at what he did to you!” you exclaim, and he only brings you into a soft hug as he kisses the side of your head and when your frown stays in place, he pouts a little before he returns to placing kisses all over your facet that inevitably fades your frown and in place emerges a soft smile and giggle.

“My little vigilante” he hums and you only scoff as you softly push his chest in feigned annoyance, “Shut up Finnick” you urge and he only gasps before he picks you up swiftly to carry you to the bedroom, “Make me” he raises his eyebrow.

#juliwrites #the hunger games x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick imagine #finnick x oc #thg finnick #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #thg #the hunger games #annie cresta #finnick odair angst

656 notes · View notes

soapskneebrace · 1 year

Text

a break in the narrative

Pairing: John Price x f!Reader Rating: Mature (there are some suggestive themes but nothing explicit) Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: Descriptions of a man's nude upper body, smoking, overuse of italics as per usual Author's Notes: I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the support that has poured forth from people who have read and liked this little series. I'm so truly pleased that everyone has enjoyed it and I am so excited to continue this story. Thank you all very much! MASTERLIST Now on Ao3!

You learn John’s routine, at least as far as it overlaps with yours, fairly quickly.

He showers first thing in the morning, when normally you are still in bed trying to convince yourself out of it. In the limbo of fading sleep, it is a Herculean effort not to imagine it, not to picture steaming hot water flowing across broad shoulders, between and along full, plush pectorals, dripping along chiseled arms and down that narrow waist to…

You shake your head hard, and then wince when the action sends your toothbrush stabbing into the inside of your cheek. You are drowsily and unwillingly awake. The flow of water on the other side of the wall shuts off. You pretend, as you move on through your own routine, that you’re not thinking of long, strong legs, or anything else that lives below his abdomen.

It’s harder to hear the further away you get from your shared wall, but with a little time you’ve learned how to pick out the sounds of him working in his kitchen. There might be the thunk—never a harsh clang—of a pan on his stove, or the soft clicks of his fridge opening and closing. He doesn’t cook for very long, and washes his dishes in the sink rather than the washer.

You find that little detail endearing. From what little you know of him, it just seems appropriate.

There’s usually some quiet after that, and you’re pretty sure it’s because he’s eating. You picture him standing in his kitchen, leaning against the counter, plate balanced in one big hand. He hasn’t struck you yet as someone who would sit down alone to eat.

And he’s always alone. You have not heard anyone else in his flat. Not once.

You wonder at that as your own breakfast heats up. Does he have friends? Family?

A partner?

Your microwave beeps. You scowl at yourself. That’s none of your business. You don’t even know the man.

After he eats, you usually hear him step outside. You’ve peeked through your window, once, and have found him smoking a cigar, standing casually on his front doorstep. He’d been looking out into the street, his gaze moving evenly and methodically across the surrounding neighborhood, calm and attentive to the morning.

SAS. You’d known immediately what he was doing. An unexpected sense of safety had flooded you immediately, and continues to resonate in the here and now as you hear his door open and close.

Today, though, that safety is threaded with a little anxiety. You have to leave early, and it will be the first time you’ve faced him since that morning you’d spent trying to talk to him while ogling his bare chest.

He hadn’t been shirtless when you’d discovered his smoking habit. He probably is not now, either. You cannot decide if it’s a pity or a relief.

You check your hair a little nervously in the mirror hanging by your front door. Breakfast sits warm in a deep jacket pocket, a couple of English muffins wrapped in their plastic and bundled into a tea towel. Lunch is in your work bag, which sits ready and patiently waiting by your feet.

You’re just delaying. Your hair is fine. You breathe a little shakily, pick up your bag, scold yourself for a simpering idiot, and leave your flat.

“Morning, John,” you say as you step out, smiling, trying your best to sound casual.

His gaze comes to you immediately, and your knees feel very weak when those gorgeous blue eyes warm with a smile.

Goodness. Does he smile at everyone like that?

“Mornin’, love,” he replies, and you resolutely ignore how much love—which half your coworkers call you, too, stupid—makes your heart flutter. “Early start?”

“Yeah,” you say, locking your door, feeling your face already heating with a blush. “And a full day, too.”

He turns his head and exhales a puff of bluish smoke. “Wish I could say the same.”

You wrap both hands around the strap of your bag, lean against your door. You can’t help but surreptitiously look him up and down. House slippers, large. Long legs, hugged by worker’s denim, loose at the ankle and snug at the thigh and hip. A tight gray t-shirt providing an easy reminder of what you’d seen in all its glory only a few days ago. And—

“Mutton chops,” you say.

His brows raise. “Sorry?”

You slap a hand over your mouth. “That wasn’t meant to be out loud!”

John gives a laugh that sounds like it isn’t often used. The beard you’d first met him wearing is now trimmed neatly into two even swoops of dark auburn that make his smile look even fuller than before. “I suppose you haven’t seen ‘em, have you?”

You’ve often heard the buzz of his razor going as you’ve dragged yourself out of bed. At that point, of course, his shower is done.

Does he shave shirtless, with a towel around his waist?

You blink hard and shake that traitorous thought out of your head. “Sorry, I—don’t get me wrong, I mean, it suits you!”

The bristles of his mustache sound against the palm of his hand as he rubs his face. “You think so?”

Those gorgeous blue eyes are on you again, soft and appreciative, the same as they had been the morning you’d first met him. It makes your entire body feel a little warmer than it should.

“Anyway,” you say fretfully, scratching at the strap of your work bag, “I wanted to say, I imagine it’s hard to be home sometimes, isn’t it? With nothing to do, I mean.”

He gives a huff, but this time it’s a laugh that’s only trying to be amused. He looks out into the street. “Shouldn’t be, really.”

Most days, you hear him pacing. You think you’re able now to puzzle out his moods according to the tempo he beats against the hardwood floor. Slow, even, steps seem to be days that are better—those are days you don’t have to knock on the wall after he’s turned the TV up. When he blasts some sort of audio, it’s always following a stretch of agitated, arrhythmic circuits that travel the whole length of his flat.

You’ve noticed, though, that when you knock, and after he’s turned it down, the pacing does not resume.

You open your mouth to say something when your phone starts dinging furiously. You huff, dig it out, look at the screen—and roll your eyes.

“And I’ve kept you again, haven’t I?” John says ruefully.

“No!” you exclaim, clearing the notifications and looking up at him. “No, it’s just my coworker losing his bloody mind.” You suck on your cheek. “I should probably get going, though, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, picking up an ash tray and stubbing out his cigar. The rueful quirk of his brow does not leave his face, and the smile he gives seems perfunctory. “Get there safe, will you?”

“Sure, John,” you reply. You want to say something back, tell him something that will make his day easier, but you don’t know what would help, or even be welcome. So you just say, “Thanks.”

You’ve only walked a little ways away when you look back at him, and see him standing with his hand on his open door, about to go inside.

As if he’s felt you gaze on him, he turns and looks at you. You stop in your tracks.

How are his eyes still so blue even this far away?

You lift one hand up. Wave a little hesitantly.

He waves back, easy and casual as you please.

You duck your head, and hurry away.

Your heart jumps to your throat the next morning as you hear him step outside.

You do not need to leave early today, but you’re at your mirror anyway, tidying up your bed head and frowning at yourself.

This is a terrible idea. You have no business doing what you’re about to do. You’re only opening yourself up to disappointment. He’s no one to you, why are you even thinking of doing this? So what if he’d been fucking disappointed when you’d had to leave? You’re just neighbors. It’s been what, a week since he’d come home? If he’s getting attached, it’s no responsibility of yours to deal with.

And really, had he even been disappointed? It’s not like you know him. Maybe that’s just his face. Maybe it’s just your overactive imagination.

Part of you knows you’re making excuses. You aren’t prone to that kind of stupidity. You’ve heard him pacing. You remember shouldn’t be, really.

You know what it’s like to be lonely.

So you get one big mug of coffee in hand, open your front door, and step outside.

John, as expected, is standing there with a lit cigar between his fingers. “Morning, love,” he says, brows lifted. Of course, he hasn’t expected to see you today.

“Morning,” you reply, smiling.

It’s a little colder today, and he’s in a fleece-lined jacket and dark beanie. This surprises you.

“I didn’t think you could get cold, John,” you say, indicating the gear with your mug. “Unless I really was dreaming the first time we met.”

You want to cringe at yourself immediately. Stupid. You have no intention to flirt. You're just being a good neighbor.

The mutton chops spread in a smile. “Bit different when there’s no heat at your back, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” you reply. You bite the inside of your cheek. You hope you sound casual. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you this morning?”

The expression he gives is one that is going to live with you for a long, long time. He blinks at you, slowly, and fixes you with a gaze that goes from surprised to pleased. As it was before, it’s an expression that tells you that you have done something more meaningful than you can know.

“Be happy to have you,” he says, his tenor low and soft.

So, you leave your doorstep to stand with him at his own. He steps to the side, giving you space, and though there is a polite distance between you, something is humming in the empty air.

He surprises you by offering his cigar. Your brows shoot up, and you look from it up to him.

“Maduro,” he says. “Don’t worry—wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t good.”

“Oh,” you say, “thank you, but I don’t smoke.”

He shrugs and takes a drag. “Just came outside to stand with me, then?”

You sip your coffee. It’s the same question you’ve been agonizing over all morning. “Maybe I’m tired of my own company.”

He huffs at that. “Think I know how that feels.”

Silence falls between you, and it is surprisingly comfortable. You think it’s because the two of you are used to not actually speaking to each other—your days occur in parallel, intersecting only with knuckles on the wall. Conversation has not been necessary to be the kind of neighbors you are.

So why are you doing this? Why are you out here, if you’re not even going to speak to him? You’ve been content with the degrees of separation that have characterized your acquaintance with John Price.

Haven’t you?

You peek at him through your lashes. He is every bit as handsome in profile as he is straight on. The mutton chops make his face look fuller, incongruously younger, despite the crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes.

“Do you like to read?” you find yourself asking.

He turns back to you, brows raised. Somehow the cool morning has seeped into his eyes, sky blue tinted almost periwinkle, sharp and intense and yet still undeniably warm. “Read?”

You have to avert your gaze. Look at the pavement, a sign on the street. “I have plenty of books I wouldn’t mind loaning, is all. It would be something to do.”

His gaze is still on you. You can feel its weight, like hands on your arms, around your wrists. You bring the rim of your mug to your lips and pretend that nothing inside of you is thrumming with the awareness of it.

“Like what?” he asks.

You sip, insisting to yourself that it’s only the heat of your drink warming your ears. “Different things. A retrospective on the Battle of Actium, a Da Vinci biography, an Iranian professor’s memoirs. Those are nonfiction, but I have plenty of novels, too. Space operas. Westerns.” Romances, too, but you aren’t going to mention those.

“Sounds like you’ve got a big bookshelf,” says John, and you think he’s smiling at you.

“And too many books,” you agree. “Which you’re welcome to, if you like.”

You hear him exhale, see pale smoke bloom in front of you both. The scent is earthy and sweet, and a part of you regrets not taking his earlier offer.

The same part of you wonders if it’s what he tastes like.

You’re saved from having the throttle yourself for the thought when John replies, “Think I’ll read ‘em all.”

You blink, and look at him incredulously. “All of them?”

He grins. “You’ve offered a bored soldier on leave something to do, love. There’s a few men I know who’d propose on the spot for that.”

You go completely blank for a single heartbeat. Your brows are trying to make it into your hair. All of the blood in your body rushes to your face, and finally you sputter in protest, “That’s—I—really, now!”

John only adds fuel to that embarrassed flame when he laughs at your expression. It’s a good laugh, a real one, that comes from deep in his chest.

“That’s ridiculous, John, you’ve having me on!” you grouse, covering your mouth with your mug.

“You don’t know too many military men, then,” he chuckles. “They’d fall all over themselves for a pretty girl like you.”

You think your whole body might be hot enough to start steaming. You look at him petulantly. “It’s not nice to tease.”

He smiles and takes a drag. Paints the air translucent blue with his breath. “Haven’t been.”

It’s too much—you can’t string any sensible thoughts together to bring this conversation back under control. This is not how you’d expected the morning to go, is not what you would ever admit to having hoped for.

“I’ll just get those books, then,” you mutter, trying to ignore the smile he wears as you leave his doorstep.

You have a moment to breathe back inside your flat. You realize, as you search along one shelf, that your heart is pounding in your chest, and the scent of his cigar has trapped itself in your lungs. This not good. You should not be this easy.

John is just a bored soldier on leave. He said it himself. You have no business getting worked up over some flirting that likely, to him, means nothing.

If he was even flirting at all, you remind yourself to consider. He’d certainly been amused at your reaction. You don’t think he’d been making fun, but certainly he could’ve just been pushing your buttons.

Haven’t been rings low and purring in your ears.

You return with the three books you’d mentioned, and John takes them all into the crook of his elbow. The stack is dwarfed in his arm.

“Which one should I start with?” he asks, ashtray and cigar stub balanced in his other hand.

You give a surprised laugh. “Why should I care?”

He tilts his head, pins you with amused eyes. “‘M relyin’ on your expertise, I’m afraid. Been a while since I’ve read anything other than reports. Might not be smart enough for the real deal, anymore.”

SAS. “I doubt that.”

He shrugs, and looks at you expectantly.

“Da Vinci, then?” you suggest.

“He did that painting, didn’t he?” John asks. “Louvre. The woman. Uh…”

“Mona Lisa?” you supply, laughing and scandalized. “You have to be teasing now!”

“Well, maybe I’ll be smart enough to talk to you after I finish the book,” John says, accommodating with self-deprecation. “Da Vinci it is.”

You can’t help yourself. “Should I assign you comprehension questions, too? Name three things you remember and such?”

John smiles. “Be something else to do, anyway.”

Oh, this is dangerous. Every good sense in your head is pounding on the inside of your skull, warning you in one unified voice. Bored soldier, pretty girl, knocking on walls, books lent and borrowed. The story writes itself in your head, saccharine and heady—followed swiftly by ugly, mundane, inevitable denouement.

You are familiar now with the narrative of disappointment. You do not want John to wear its mantle.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” you say lightly, taking a swallow of your coffee as casually as you can. “I need to get ready for work.”

“Sure,” says John. He looks at you too fondly to stomach. “Appreciated the company.”

“Anytime,” your dumb, traitorous, too-honest mouth gives away.

The next morning begins as the rest do. John’s shower wakes you up. You resolutely don’t think about hot water and hotter skin as you drag yourself out from beneath the covers.

You brush your teeth. His water shuts off. A pan thunks in his kitchen while your first cup of coffee brews.

Silence. You drink. He eats.

You make your second cup. He steps out for his cigar.

A decision hangs on the knob of your front door.

This routine has been comfortable. Safe in its predictability. Measurable in its contributions to your daily life. The previous morning does not have to be anything other than an interesting deviation, a graze up against something more exciting and infinitely more fraught. You can keep the memory of John’s smile, John’s laughter, John’s kind blue eyes sweet and harmless in its ephemerality.

You can ignore the disappointment that stretches hairline cracks across that facade.

Your mug is warm in your hands as you stand in your living room, still and unmoving. From the quiet, the sound of a book falling over on your shelf, lost now of the support of its fellows, captures your attention.

You realize he is going to have to return your books at some point, and relief suddenly floods you. The decision is already made, isn’t it?

He smiles at you when you step out into the morning chill, bundled like you were the first morning into two coats. “There she is! Was hoping you’d join me again.”

Does it show on your face? The warmth that blooms inside of you at that sentiment so openly expressed?

The corner of his eyes crinkle as you stand there, transfixed and unable to hide your pleasure at his words.

“Morning, John,” you finally say. “Finish Da Vinci yet?”

As before, he steps aside, makes room for you on his doorstep. As before, you take the space next to him.

He takes a drag, eyes still on you and creased with amusement. “Not quite,” he says, exhaling. “Always was a poor student. Might take some time.”

You sip from your mug to hide your smile. “At least it’s something to do.”

The smoke from his cigar lingers in the air, mingling with the steam of your coffee.

Bonus notes: the books I referenced here are The War That Made the Roman Empire by Barry Strauss, Leonardo Da Vinci by Walter Isaacson, and Reading Lolita in Tehran and Things I’ve Been Silent About by Azar Nafisi. I wholeheartedly recommend every single one.

Taglist: @yeyinde @guyfieriii @aduckingpain @jaimiespn @aconstructofamind @trashy-panda777 @lich1 @smoggyfogbottom @cielobgers @antigonusyuki @bubble-dream-inc @monsterhighsblog @so-scarlet--it-was-maroon @itsthetiredstudent @misshoneypaper @wasteland-babe @jxvipike @deadbranch @mildlyhopeless @yes-music-is-my-religion @shuttlelauncher81 @xback1021 @zero-ice @hailstrum18 @ramadiiiisme @glassgulls @simonea27 @kitty-satan1 @tianotfound @solarslushee @mmmothballz @wiserebelpartypie @randomchick546 @stripeycatt @shurikan17 @staymetalmacie @capt-soaps-bbg @cold-blooded-girls @rdeville

Due to the sheer volume of people asking to be tagged, I am closing the taglist as of this chapter's publishing. If you're on it, you will still be tagged until this series' completion.

Have a request for something set in this story? Shoot me an ask, I'd love to hear about it! Thanks for reading.

2K notes · View notes

blackbirdi · 1 month

Text

One-Sided pt. II

If you haven't read the first part already, the link to part 1 is here

I'm so sorry this took so long, guys, I was struggling with ideas. Anyways, enjoy :)

Brief Description: Sirius begins to notice how suddenly you're around him a lot less than usual. What could he have done to make you want to avoid him at all costs? And why does your avoidance hurt him this much?

Point of View: 3rd Person

Word Count: 2181

Character: Sirius Black x Reader

House: Gryffindor

Year: Sixth Year

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Sirius has talked to Y/n last, and it's driving him up the wall. The only other time where he doesn't talk to her for that long is during the summer, but at least they owl back and forth non-stop, and now suddenly he hasn't heard her sweet voice in two damn weeks.

And it's not as though he hasn't tried to talk to her. Hell, he's been going out of his way to run into her just to ask what was up with her, but every time she sees him, she runs away. And now she's changed the time of her daily activities (going to the library to read/study, walk in the courtyard, visit Hagrid, etc.) – not that he knew the times she was going by heart before she changed them – so now he can't even run into her then.

Two weeks. Two damn weeks. And he's not going any longer without her.

It was Saturday and the Marauders were all hanging out in their dormitory, and Sirius was itching to find Y/n and beg ask her to forgive him for whatever he must have done to have her ignore him like this.

"Remus," Sirius calls, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" Remus hums, not even bothering to look up from the book he was reading, which only caused Sirius to grow more frustrated.

He closes his eyes before he snaps at Remus, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The only thing that does is cause his eyes to well up with tears.

Godric, what was up with him? Was Y/n really causing him to get this upset?

When he speaks next, his voice breaks, which causes all the other Marauders to lift their heads and look at Sirius with concern.

"Why won't Y/n talk to me?"

The other three Marauders share a few glances at one another before looking back at Sirius. The pity in their eyes as they look at him causes Sirius to grow frustrated once again.

His eyes, which were previously filled with tears, harden as he wipes them away. His lips pull back into a thin line as he glares down at his own hands.

"She keeps avoiding me! I haven't said anything to her in weeks!" he cries angrily. "And even when I do say something to her, she just ignores me and runs off! Did I do something to make her mad at me?"

"I'm sure you didn't do anything, Padfoot," James tries to comfort him. "Maybe Y/n just needs space for a while."

"Space from what?" Sirius snaps. "What did I do that would've wanted her to space herself from me? And only me! I haven't seen her ignoring you three, or anyone else for that matter! What did I do!?"

“Pads –” Remus starts, but is quickly interrupted.

“Why do you care so much anyway?” James asks. “It’s just Y/n.”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all shoot James a glare, all three of them knowing that was not the right thing to ask.

“Yeah, Y/n, my friend,” Sirius sneers. “I care because Y/n is one of my closest friends and now suddenly she’s ignoring me! Do you have any idea how much that hurts? Because it does, a lot.”

“We know, Padfoot,” Peter replies, trying to make his voice sound comforting, although to Sirius it sounded more like pity. “I think James was trying to ask why you’re so … no quiet over dramatic about it … but more upset than you normally would be about something like this.”

“Yeah,” James agrees. “That’s exactly what I was trying to ask, thank you, Pete.”

Sirius glares at the both of them, his teeth gritting together as he tries to hold back from snapping at the two of them.

Why was he upset? Really? One of his best friends just straight up ditched him! Of course he was fucking upset!

“How do you twats not understand that I am upset my friend has fucking abandoned me!” Sirius snarls, his voice wavering as he tries to control his anger.

The others share another, worried glance, which drives Sirius even more insane.

Of course, Remus, James, and Peter quickly caught on that Y/n was avoiding Sirius, and were even quicker to catch on why. It wasn’t that hard to see that Y/n had finally had enough of her silly little crush on Sirius and was trying to stomp it out by avoiding him. And of course, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail knew that avoiding Sirius at all costs wasn’t going to get rid of Y/n’s feelings for Sirius. And of course, Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew knew that Sirius’s own feelings towards Y/n were developing beyond friendship.

“I can talk to her if you want me to,” Remus offers.

The usual stormy grey of Sirius’s eyes had darkened considerably in anger, his eyes narrowing at Remus in a glare.

“You’ve done quite a lot of talking to her,” he hisses. “A lot more than I have in Merlin knows how long. Do you know how frustrating that is, Remus? To see that Y/n, who suddenly hates me, is still all buddy-buddy with the three of you? Do you know how shitty it makes me feel when I see her talking to you and then she immediately runs away whenever she sees me? Do you?”

“No,” Remus replies, his voice squeaky at the anger in Sirius’s tone.

"That's what I thought," Sirius snarls, standing up from his bed abruptly.

With quick strides Sirius finds himself at the dormitory door, the door opened an inch before Peter asks curiously, "Where are you going?"

"To fucking find her!" Sirius snaps, turning around and facing his friends. "I can't keep going like this, without her. I - I need her, okay? I need her because ... because I love her. I love her. Holy shit, I love Y/n. I'll be back guys, but I need to find Y/n, even if that means searching every nook and cranny of this godforsaken castle."

He's out the door in another split second, the door slamming closed behind him.

Silence settles over the other three as they share glances, confused evident on each of their faces.

"Well," Remus finally mutters, breaking the silence. "He handled that a lot better than Y/n did when she realized she was in love with Sirius."

–––––––––––

To Sirius's surprise it didn't take him that long to find her. She was sitting in the courtyard, leaning against the truck of a tree with a book on her lap.

Sirius was careful to approach her quietly, not wanting her to spot him and jump up and run away (like she had been doing for two weeks straight).

When Y/n finally looked up from her book, the first thing she saw was Sirius looming in front of her. Her eyes widened as they made eye contact, scrambling to pick up her book and getting to her feet.

"Y/n, wait," Sirius snaps, grabbing onto her wrist with a vice-like grip before she could run away. "Please, don't run again, please."

Y/n sighs, trying to tug her wrist out of Sirius’s grip before she turns and faces him for the first time since the Quidditch game. Her struggling ceases as she sees the pain behind Sirius’s eyes, the pain that she would’ve caused every single time she ignored him or ran away.

“Please, Y/n/n,” he begs in a whisper, pulling her closer to him. “Please, don’t leave me again. I miss you so much. And I am so, so sorry if I did something to hurt you, or did something that made you want to avoid me. I never meant to, I don’t think I have done anything, but if I did just say the word and I will hold myself responsible for it and I will do anything I can to get back in your good graces because I miss you. So, so much. I hate that I haven’t seen you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t talked to you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t heard your voice in two weeks, and I hate that you’ve been avoiding me. I’m not blaming you because obviously it must have been something I did, but please Y/n, please, please, please stop avoiding me. I miss you.”

A wave of guilt washes over Y/n as she listens to Sirius, watching tears well in his eyes as it gets increasingly harder for him to talk without choking on his words. However, she can't help the little flutter her heart gives at his words.

Sirius takes a breath, trying to collect himself as he finally says everything he was feeling.

"And-and I hate how much it hurts that you've been doing this. I shouldn't care, I really shouldn't, but I do. I care so goddamn much, Y/n. It's been two weeks, two fucking weeks! I shouldn't be this effected, but I am. I've missed you more in two weeks more than I've missed anything else in my life, more than I miss the Marauders during the holidays, more than I miss Hogwarts during the summer, more than I miss the heat of the summer during the winter, more than I miss the sun in a rainstorm. I missed you, Y/n, and it's only been two weeks. So please, please, please, please, tell me what I did wrong so I can right it and we can go back to how we were before whatever I did."

A pause, a heartbeat before Sirius adds in a trembling voice, "Please."

Y/n takes a shaky breath, trying to stop the heat from rising in her cheeks and giving her away.

"Sirius," she says slowly.

"Please," he interrupts her, his voice breaking. "Please, Y/n. I don't know what I did, but whatever it must have been, I am so sorry. Please, please, please forgive me."

"Sirius," Y/n repeats, "you didn't do anything. I just... I realized something and I shut myself away from you. If anything, I should be saying sorry to you. I never meant to hurt you like this."

Sirius stares at her, confusion bubbling up within him as he listens to her explain.

"I-I don't understand," he admits in a quiet voice. Her stares up at her helplessly. "Why would you avoid me like you have if I didn't do anything? You haven't avoided the others, just me."

Y/n sighs, her heart thudding in her chest as she looks away from Sirius and finally admits in a small voice, "I'm in love with you."

The world stops, for the both of them.

Y/n can't breathe, why would she admit that!? Everything, everything, has been ruined. She ruined their friendship! Why would she do that!?

Sirius can't breathe, did she mean it!? Everything, everything, is going to change, for the better. She felt the same! But why did she avoid him if she loved him?

After what felt like hours of silence, Sirius responds, "I love you, too."

Sirius's heart pounds against his ribcage. Even though she said it first, it's still so hard to admit it.

Y/n's heart pounds against her ribcage. There is no way in hell that he actually feels the same.

"I – w-what?” she stutters, mouth dry.

“I love you too,” Sirius repeats, dropping her wrist. His hands come up to cup her jaw, holding her face in his hands as he smiles down at her. “I-I was thinking about how much I missed you, everything about you – not just your presence – and I guess that led me to realize that I would never feel this way about someone I thought of as my friend. Y/n/n, I realized that I’m in love with you.”

Y/n mirrors Sirius’s smile, relief flooding through her body as her cheeks flush with pink.

“I-I’m glad,” she whispers. “I was scared that you didn’t feel the same; that’s why I started avoiding you. I thought that if I was around you less my feelings would go away, which obviously didn’t work. But I was scared to say something in case I made things awkward between us.”

Sirius chuckles, pressing his forehead against hers, asking in a soft voice, “How could I not be in love with you? You, Y/n L/n, are the most kind, thoughtful, caring, smart, funny, beautiful woman in the whole world; I don’t know how I didn’t realize my feelings for you sooner. I love you.”

“I love you too, Sirius,” Y/n murmurs back. She closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling of Sirius being this close to her.

A comfortable silence fell over the two as they soak in each other’s presence, two hearts beating as one.

Two minutes. It has been two minutes since Sirius has admitted his feelings for Y/n, and it’s making him feel like he’s on top of the world.

Taglist: @littleshadow17 (who asked for a part 2 a month ago. I hope it was up to your standards lol). And @rosieandthethorns (who didn't asked to be tagged but I figured I should let you know so you can stop foaming at the mouth and writhing on the floor lmao)

#i'm sorry i took so long in getting this out guys #my writing brain wasn't writing #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #marauders era #padfoot #requited love

167 notes · View notes

rainydaydreamsideblog · 1 year

Text

(The Maze Runner) What It's Like Having Him as a Close Friend

(Author’s Note: In my fics/imagines/headcanons, Gladers are aged up, and also movie version...)

Thomas

Quiet conversations while working or in between jobs.

Walls coming down gradually over time. You both open up about things you’re thinking about.

You lend a hand whenever he gets himself into trouble. Which is all the time.

Seriously, standing up for this guy is a full-time job in and of itself.

On the flipside, you will have a most loyal and trusted friend.

Thomas will keep your secrets. He will look out for you. You can count on him no matter what.

The slightest hint that someone will do you harm will send him into overprotective mode. He’ll stare down anyone who says or does anything to make you uncomfortable.

He has this uncanny ability to convince you his shenanigans are a good idea on occasion. It doesn’t always happen, but when he does manage to recruit you, it’s chaos.

Newt

Witty banter back and forth.

Sitting together at mealtimes and spilling the tea about other Gladers and ridiculous things that happen during the day.

This guy believes in his friends so much, and his actions back that.

He’s there to stomp out any doubts you may have about yourself. He’ll give you a motivational scolding.

Newt appreciates your willingness to help wherever it’s needed. As second-in-command, he finds himself helping out in different areas. It brightens his day when you offer up a helping hand.

He’s super knowledgeable about the Glade, and he never gets tired of questions. Ask away.

Laughing and joking around at bonfires.

Minho

Playful teasing and taunts.

There’s also some joking flirts. Silly pet names spoken with light-hearted sarcasm. It’s his love language.

He’s so full of sass, but can turn around and be serious around others when trying to be tough.

With that being said, he likes to be taken seriously by others. He saves the jokes for his closest friends, but doesn’t do it in front of Greenies. There’s a time and place in his mind.

He’s the Keeper of the Runners, so he’s usually gone most of the day. He’ll rely on you to fill him in on anything that took place during the day - unless of course you’re a Runner too.

You also get a heads up on progress made in the Maze. You know more than you probably should about what’s going on.

Gally

In the very beginning, he’s like “oh great, a girl greenie” *sarcasm*

You’re so eager to prove yourself, to do your part, and you do in fact start to grow on him.

He realizes that he had some unfair preconceived notions about having a girl in the Glade, and he comes to respect you. His respect is bestowed on very few, so don’t take it lightly.

He’ll lighten up a bit and not be quite so gruff. He still picks on you, but it’s more good-natured and genuine, and it’s usually a cover to distract you from the fact that he’s helping.

“Sheesh. Move over, Greenie. You’re going to break your back doing that by yourself.”

Values your opinions and really takes them to heart. While he’ll tell anyone else to quit complaining or take their ideas elsewhere, he’ll listen to you. If anyone gives him klunk about being a softie, he gives them a death glare.

He picks on you, but won’t stand for anyone else doing it.

1K notes · View notes

auroraborealyss · 2 years

Text

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 | 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞.

⊹ fandom house of the dragon

⊹ pairing ser harwin strong x reader

⊹ synopsis when the fight breaks out, ser harwin strong decides to get the most important lady in the room to safety

⊹ tags some sexual tension—sexual fluff is the term i'd use it; "who did this to you?" trope + wound bandaging; unexpected marriage proposal in the end because i can't control where my stories go

⊹ warnings fighting, hotd spoiler for 1.05

⊹ word count 1305

The crowd thickens on the dance floor. You are sitting off to the side, on your third cup of wine, watching with amusement as your best friend gets in a heated discussion with Daemon in the middle of the room for the entire crowd to watch. As interested as you are as to what will happen between them, you take a sip and divert your eyes away so if someone were to interrogate you, you’d be able to feign cluelessness.

Your eyes sweep over the room, taking in the attendees. There’s King Viserys, who’s aggressively moving his knife back and forth in a cutting motion except he’s missing the actual chicken because he’s too absorbed watching with scandalised eyes at his brother and daughter.

Then there’s Queen Alicent, who’s also watching, but more subtly. She’s gotten better at concealing her emotions, and much better at learning the subtle ways of the court. You’ll have to warn Rhaenyra about her old friend.

But like every time the two of you are in the same room together, your eyes are eventually drawn to him. Unsurprisingly, he’s already staring at you. Ser Harwin Strong stands across the room with someone talking to him, but it’s clear he’s no longer interested in them. You smile at him, and he bows his head in greeting. His eyes shamelessly rake you up and down, and to tease and appease his appetite which you know all too well, you lean forwards slightly so your dress gives him a much nicer view. You grin at his smile.

That is the crux of your relationship. Longing glances from across the room, a moment of flirtation that doesn’t lead everywhere. For now, it’s fun. Sneaking around, teasing each other in public, the possibilities of what could be existing in the inch of space between your lips when you have your back against the wall and his chest pressed against yours, never pushing further, but not pulling away. You’re both satisfied with it for now. But how long will it last before it’s no longer enough and you both must make the decision of either being together or forever apart?

A scream rises above the crowd, tearing your attention from him. Duty and loyalty to the princess takes over your body, and you stand in search for Rhaenyra immediately. You catch sight of her white hair and see as the thick crowd, now panicked, shove the princess aside.

“Rhaenyra!” you shout out to her, but no one hears you.

No one except for ser Harwin, who despite being so far from you and on the other side of the panicking crowd, sees you grab the knife you had been cutting your chicken with and head determinedly into the crowd to defend your friend. As frustrated he is by you endangering yourself, he can’t help but chuckle at the sight of your stubbornness, loyalty, and bravery. But worry overtakes him as you disappear into the throng of bodies, gone from his view.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his father motion for him to grab the princess. Harwin stretches his head to the left before shoving aside the person in front of him, then the person behind them and every else who stands in his way. He occasionally punches someone if they won’t move. As the crowd gets even thicker, he begins to use his body to barrel his way through. He does pretty much anything that needs to be done until he catches a glimpse of you again, now having made it to the princess’ side. Blood drips down your knife. The sleeve on your pretty blue dress is ripped, and he sees blood stains around it.

You turn and your eyes meet, as if you could just feel his presence when he came near enough.

“Ser Harwin,” you gasp out. “Take the princess to safety—OH!”

The floor disappears from under your feet.

You scream out as his large hands grasp your waist, and with barely a grunt, hoist you over his very broad shoulders. The heat from his hands is familiar, the grip on your waist drawing memories from two nights before, but in this moment, all you feel is anger and disbelief as you are carried away from Rhaenyra who is picked up in a similar position by another member of the city watch.

“Put me down, ser Harwin!” you shout. You slam your fists against his back, not that he’d feel it.

“Stop moving, my lady,” he says gruffly.

You twist around so you can see a glimpse of where you’re going. One hand is still wrapped around your legs to keep you from falling. His other hand is shoving people aside to clear a way.

“PUT ME DOWN!” You try to kick, but his grip tightens.

Then he slaps your ass.

“I said, stop moving!”

Realizing that this isn’t a fight you’re going to win, you huff and stay still as he fights through the rest of the room. Only out in the hall where it’s silent, empty, and dark, does he bend down to put you gently on the ground.

You slap his chest. “You were supposed to get the princess to safety!”

“I was getting my lady to safety first,” he says unabashedly.

“You can’t put me above Rhaenyra!”

“Can’t I?”

Heat floods your cheeks at his words. You look down and see that his hands are still gripping your waist, as if he’s still keeping you safe. Silence passes between you, only the sounds of his and yours heavy breathing filling the air. Gradually, your anger ebbs away, but still his grip doesn’t loosen.

“You can let go of me now, ser Harwin,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

He doesn’t. He steps forward, forcing you take a step backward. Forwards, back, forwards, back, your eyes never looking away from his until your back hits the wall. He takes a step forward. Then another. He’s much taller than you, and much broader. His entire presence looms over you, but you don’t feel terrified or small. If anything, you only feel protected. Secure.

Loved.

He reaches for his shirt and tears a strip from the bottom. You don’t protest as he dabs the blood on your arm before wrapping it over the wound. When he’s done, he bends down to press a kiss against it.

“Does it hurt?” he asks softly.

You shake your head. The scalding touch of him being so close to you yet not doing anything is more unbearable than the knife that cut you.

“Who did it?”

“Harwin.”

“People get hurt from fights all the time. No one will know it was intentional.”

You can’t stop the chuckle from escaping. He smiles softly at you and moves even closer so his forehead is resting against yours, his breath warm over your lips.

“You can’t do that again,” he says.

You look at him challengingly. “Can’t I?”

“No, you can’t. Stop risking yourself.”

“Rhaenyra is my friend, and I have a feeling that things are only going to get worse from here. I have to stay by her side and protect her.”

He sighs, and you know he understands that he can’t ask you to forsake your friendship with her. “Then I will stand by your side and protect you,” he says instead.

You raise your brows. “Oh, will you?”

“Enough of this hiding around and being on opposite ends of the room. I want to be by your side at all times.”

“And how will you do that, ser Harwin?”

He takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the inside of your palm. “Marry me,” he says, and you feel everything in you stop until he is all you can see and think and feel.

“Marry me and be mine.”

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖽? 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗂𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗄 𝗌𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗌, 𝗇𝗈. 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗍𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗑 + 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗆 𝗂 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌? 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒.

𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽. 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾𝖽 (𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇). 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

#harwin strong x reader #harwin strong imagine #ser harwin strong imagine #ser harwin strong #ser harwin strong fanfic #ser harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine

5K notes · View notes

ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 25 days

Text

One: “Thanks, I Hate You”

You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia.

CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

MASTERLIST

“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”

“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”

“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”

“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”

Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team.

“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.

Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”

You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.”

Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”

“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.”

“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”

“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--”

“--most of the time.”

You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks. He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder.

Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.

It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently.

You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo.

The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway.

“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium. “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.”

The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary.

As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”

“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh.

“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”

“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”

Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”

You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.”

“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”

“Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”

Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!”

There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side.

You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge.

“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”

“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!”

He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.”

“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”

You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”

“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.

Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room.

“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.”

You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”

Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”

He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”

You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline.

He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas.

However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki.

“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news.

“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”

“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.

“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner.

“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.”

“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink.

“No,” you said firmly.

“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”

“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”

Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”

“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”

A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game.

“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.

“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone.

“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.”

“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent.”

All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance.

“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!”

“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”

You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.

“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki.

Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.”

“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”

This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”

And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought. “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”

“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”

“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”

“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”

Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.

“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.”

He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”

Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…

This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano.

By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony.

Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”

“Die.”

Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”

“Please die.”

“That’s my girl.”

Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”

The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger.

Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening.

“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view.

The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”

“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”

“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”

You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically.

Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder.

“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism.

“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”

Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”

“But I’m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it.

“I’m hurt. Truly.”

You snickered. “Sure.”

“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”

“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth.

“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”

“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”

“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”

“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”

Tags: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtufff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson25 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki @soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah @clusterfuck-meup @mischief2sarawr @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kats72 @glitchquake @zippythewondersquirrel @ameliariddle @alexakeyloveloki @lovingchoices14

163 notes · View notes

thesuperiorrobin · 10 months

Text

𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞~

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Damian Wayne x Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: mentions of blood, slight cursing, might not be accurate to real ice hockey so I apologize in advance.Damian being a demon on the ice, I wrote Damian OOC, mostly likely, he’s just in love

Damian looks flawless in ice, I’m just going to put that out there. I know he would.

He gets a bit carried away, ramming people up against the walls. That’s what he’s known for when he’s on the ice so the other team tries to stay far away from him, but also try to take the puck from him. Never really works out.

Always get penalized for it too and put in penalty for 2-5 minutes. Is pissed off at that for no reason.

The MAIN reason why his team wins. (Most of the time)

Really loyal to his team. If the opposite side ‘accidentally’ hurts his teammates he’s the first one to skate over to them. Might throw the first punch but it depends 🤷‍♀️ (100% will throw the punch no matter what :))

He gets hurt a lot. Whether it’s him digging with other or simply ramming into thing to hard , theres bound to be blood, a lots of it sometimes. But he always comes back with bandages around the wounds or maybe stitches.

If he does get hurt he puts out a little signal that only you know telling you he’s okay.

His signal in telling you that he’s going to make a goalie and dedicate it to you is literally stopping right in front of you and placing his gloved fist on the clear barricade, giving you a grin.

Buys you the tickets to go to his game. You never miss one. That’s because he says your his lucky charm during the games. That’s why his team wins all the time.

First row right next to his team where he can keep an eye one you and hold small conversations before it’s his time to go back on the ice

Likes to show off.

A lot. Only does it to impress you

Gives you the puck he made a goalie and won with (is that allowed?)

The crowds get louder and louder as the seconds count down. You're anxious and you don't know why. Damian’s team and the opposing team are tied with points. You’ve noticed Damian’s actions get more violent as time goes on. The more violent he got the more penalties he got which is a time out on the benches. Which means the other team gets a chance at scoring a point without Damian roughly ramming them against the wall. You’re cheering him on as he glides against the ice, but soon find yourself taking a break from the yelling.

Your eyes follow his figure as he glides against the ice, hockey stick in hand as he moves the puck back and forth against the base of the stick. There’s another figure coming for him, one from the opposing team. You cringe, knowing what’s about to happen to the poor person.

Lucky it wasn’t another penalty, but you would hear the crowd gasp witnessing the sight for what seemed like the nth time in less than twenty minutes. But, every time he did get a penalty and put in the penalty box, or as you call it the time out box, you can’t help but laugh. Knowing that Damian was put out for being rough much like how a small toddler would be put in the corner for not listening at all. It was always such a funny sight. Damian rams into the person hard, knocking him down.

“OH!” Dick says from behind you “that’s gotta hurt!” You know he wasn’t talking to you but you hum and nod. Dick and the others know first hand how rough he can be, having been practicing with him last time it didn’t end will with. “I think he gave him a concussion” Tim was also behind you sitting next to Dick, while Jason was no where to be seen.

‘Probably went to go shove his face with food’

Despite being on the other team you feel bad for them and the bruises they’ll be getting the following day. Not to mention the sore body’s they’ll have to work through. You’ve been sitting in the same spot for more than an hour with each game period being at least twenty minutes long, with fifteen minute breaks. Maybe they were shorter but you really couldn’t tell.

Damian misses his shot by a few inches away from the goalie, not being able to stop in time he slams himself up against the wall, the people behind it cover their mouths out of shock and you slap your forehead, shaking your head as you watch him brush it off and continue to play. However, his coach calls him out to replace him with another teammate. He compiles but has a sour look on his face, once he reaches the dry ground he throws his stick. Clearly angry and frustrated all you could do is watch for a while as he takes off his helmet, hair slightly damp from the sweat—giving him helmet hair, all messy and pointing in different directions. It makes you laugh a little. But your sudden mood changes quickly as he sits down head in his hands—running over his sweaty black locks. You don’t think twice as you tap on the screen that keeps his and your row apart.

Damian has good hearing with a small sound so it wasn’t hard to hear you tapping away. He turns to your directions, giving you a small nod. You frown and tilt your head down a little and he rolls his eyes knowing what you're implying and gives you a forced smile. You give him a thumbs up as he scoffs, he watches carefully as you pull out your phone and type away. His eyes never leave you until you place your phone, screen side up against the clear glass divider. Green eyes squinting as he reads away:

‘don’t worry. You got the next goal. I know it!’

That sentence alone makes his heart swell. Damian takes off his right gloves and pats his chest—right where his heart would be two times. A way of saying he appreciate the small gesture.

You take your phone off the glass and erase the previous sentence replacing it with a new one—placing it back on the glass: ‘Have a plan for when you get back on the ice? He quickly reads and nods his head. At least he has a plan, you thought and place your phone back in your pocket. Hands shaking for the cold and lack of warmth you had for them considering the fact that you had forgotten your mittens at home. You focus your attention back on the game. The opposite team ahead by one point— but Damian’s team can do good without him for a while.

He’s out for about half of the game until his coach decides to replace him with another one of his teammates. He taps on the glass to get your attention and once he has it, he Winks at you before making his way back on the ice.

“So are they losing or what?” A familiar voice says beside you and you turn your head, Jason takes his seat next to you with two cups in his hand. “Where the hell have you been?”

“The line for hot chocolate got long” he hands you one “I got you one too, know you stressing over the Demon playing Disney on ice right now” the warm drink warms up your hands a little.

“Thanks. That’s nice of you Jason” You ignore the comment and he hums before he takes a sip of his one drink, eyes scanning the ice before he yells out with the audience. Someone from the Damian team made a shot and they’re tied with the other team.

You go back to cheering him on, the warm drink soothing your throat from all the yelling earlier. It’s later forgotten as you place the half empty cup on the ground right beside your foot— watching the minutes pass by quickly like seconds.

Your heart skips a beat, and not in a good way when the other team shoots their shot but thankfully they fail. With time becoming shorter and shorter it was only a matter of time before Damian took matters into his own hands and his teammates are quick to learn to stay out of it when the time was cutting short and they were off by a point or two, or in this case tied, They had faith in him and so did you.

The seat is now cold from your absence, you’re up on your feet cheering and screaming right along with his brothers who seem to be cheering louder than you. Your eyes glued to Damian as you try to keep up with his figure. He has the puck, sliding it back and forth against the curve of his stick once more.

You don’t have time to think—especially when his helmet makes a horrible sound right up against the clear barrier as one of the players from the opposite team slams into him harshly. Right in front of you as you flinch back. Cheering can be heard from the opposite side of the ice rink which is where the other team supporters were.

Your side falls silent, few gasps and murmurs could be heard. Damian’s back up on his feet, his gloved fist pressed up against the clear barrier. His eyes locked on yours with a glint of mischief and something else. One of those grins grace his lips, one that makes you smile as he waved at you before he leaves.

He’s much faster this time and it makes you think if he was slacking off all this time—or maybe it was the adrenaline that runs high in his veins with these last few minutes. He was going to make a goal, dedicating it to you. Your body feels warm and your heart skips.

“ Ohh~ I know that look” Jason teases from beside you, Dick and Tim are leaning down giving you cheeky grins.

You roll your eyes trying to hide the smile that tries to form itself on your lips “I don’t know what you mean.” You play stupid as you glance back at the game.

fifty seconds left of the last game, everyone seemed to be cheering and calling out those who were on the ice. Damian pays no mind to his teammates as they let him do what he needs to do. You cheer for him, calling out his name. Despite there being hundreds of others yelling out at the same time his mind blocks them out, every single one of them but you. they get louder the minute he gets ahold of the puck swiftly, quickly making his way to the goalie.

His main priority was to get the puck around the goaltender and into the net. He was doing this all for you and you knew that. Those fifty seconds go by quickly, as if you’ve blinked and when you open your eyes ten seconds we’re now left. Everyone counted down, even you. It felt like time went slower once it hit that five second mark, you’ve quiet yourself down and the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You watch Damian has he left up his stick and takes a hit.

Pointing and loud gasp could be seen and heard, half of the ice rink goes quiet—as if the loudness would mess up his plan. Right as the Puck glides under the goaltender and into the net the timer makes a sound—indicating that the game is now over and Damian scores a point, officially breaking the tie. Relief washes over you, hands thrown in the air as a yell of excitement leaves you as Damian’s brothers cheer alongside you. The other side slouches, defeated as your side basically rubs it in their fasts by how loud they were being, but you didn’t care.

A win is a win.

You can see Damian, as he is pulled into a group hug by the rest of his team, some patting his pack and some patting his helmet and shoving it gently as a gesture. The part you don’t notice is him escaping from the group and skating to the Net where he had thrown the puck before he picked it up, waving it in the air like some sort of trophy—however, in this context, it was. He shows it off with pride, making his way towards you.

With a loud yelp you’re picked up by the others, Jason, Dick, and Tim, as they lift you up until you're basically above the spectating glass. Your lover stands below on the other side with his arm stretched out high, he waits. With the help of the others, they hold on to you as you lean done and over the glass.

Your own arm stretches down as you grasp the puck in your hand. His gloves are now off and so is his helmet, his hair pointing in all directions much like earlier when he was away on a penalty, his warm hand grasping yours with the puck still in your hand

“I did that just for you, habibti!” Eyes glistening, you Can’t really tell if it’s from his sweat or his love for you.

“I know!” You laugh “I love you!”

“And I too, love you!” The crowd fills itself with loud cheers and small ‘awes’, watching the sight of the son that belonged to billionaire Bruce Wayne was a rare sight to see, considering how he would rather keep private about his relationship with you.

His warm lips connected to the coldness of your knuckles , making a mental note to bring an extra pair of gloves just for you in the future.

“If you lean down further you’re going to eat shit”

“shush I’m having a moment here”

“just saying”

Tried to make it as accurate as possible bc, again I know nothing about ice hockey. I had googled the rules and watched videos

And god knows how many references pictures I tried to find about hockey. Probably spend like an hour trying to find them just to draw Damian :|

I will be taking a short break from writing requests just bc school is starting in like a few days or so. So I can get my life together and actually have time to mentally prepare myself and fix my schedule seeing as I’ve been up most night until 6 am and waking up at 2pm.

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian scenarios #hockey player!damian wayne

869 notes · View notes

irb-pascalito-99 · 2 months

Text

I Can Keep a Secret

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (no outbreak AU)

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: insecurity, jealousy, smut, p in v sex, oral f!receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, grief

Summary: The relationship between Joel and Ellie’s older sister is complicated after the two share some tense moments while Ellie is in the hospital. Once Ellie is able to go home the two meet up during their lunch break to discuss where to go from here.

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter eleven on my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing check out my a03.

We eat lunch at a diner nearby. The waitress, a tall woman named Esther with thick brown hair and bright blue eyes, comes by the table frequently. She does her best to flirt with Joel, batting her eyelashes and holding his arm as she refills his coffee cup each time she passes by. I fight the urge to say something, a pit of jealousy growing in my stomach each time she reaches out to grab his arm, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice her attention.

She comes by the table again to top off his cup. I watch her manicured hand grip his bicep as she asks if he needs anything else. He looks over at me, raising his eyebrows to ask if I need anything. When I shake my head he briefly thanks her for the coffee and turns his attention back to me.

“So, sounds like you had a long morning. Is it just about Ellie going back to school?” I take a bite of one of my fries.

“For the most part,” I respond. “I also had this meeting with the social worker this morning so…”

Joel nods, giving me space to continue if I want to but not pushing the conversation in any way. I know I should be opening up more. I’m trying not to fall back into my usual isolation, but I keep the wall there. It’s comfortable on the other side, safe.

He notes my apprehension toward continuing the conversation, so he moves on. I watch him rub the back of his neck again. It must be a nervous habit of his.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” Joel says.

I take another bite of a fry, fighting the blush creeping up my neck as the memory resurfaces. My body feels hot as I think about it. His hands on my hips. His moans in my ear.

“I just wanted to clear the air a little. It feels like things have been a little tense lately, with the kiss and then the moment at the party. I know you’ve had a lot going on, and I don’t want to pressure you or anything,” He says his words slowly, as if examining each one before he says it.

Esther watched us from the counter, her eyes skipping from him to me. I feel angry watching her assess the situation, like she’s trying to make a claim to something that’s mine. Except, Joel isn’t mine.

I try to ignore Esther and focus on Joel when he continues. “I completely get it, if it was a heat of the moment, just want to feel something, kind of thing. We can just leave it at that and never talk about it again, but I want to know what it is for you.”

What is it for me, the big question. I knew I’d have to define it soon. It’s been keeping me up at night. I think about it while I paint. Every stroke of brown reminds me of his eyes. The golden light filtering through tree lines reminds me of the warmth of his arms around mine.

“I don’t think,” I try to formulate my thoughts. I like him. I know I do, but I have baggage that he shouldn’t have to deal with no matter how much he claims he can handle it. “It wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing. I mean, the moment gave me the courage to act, but I meant it. I wouldn’t take it back. I think I really like you.”

A smile tugs at the edge of his lips. My heart leaps at the gesture. “Me too.”

I bite my lip and push some of the fries back and forth on my plate. He wants me too. My stomach is doing somersaults. I nearly jump up to yell my triumph across the room at Esther, but I think back to Ellie and the promise I made to Marlene.

Jumping into a relationship right now, with Ellie’s best friend’s dad, would put everything I’m working toward in jeopardy. What if something went wrong and it caused issues between Sarah and Ellie? What if Ellie found out and hated me for it? As much as I like Joel I can’t afford any mistakes right now.

“I can’t give you what you deserve though. I can’t give you the whole relationship thing. I have to be careful though,” I blurt out. Joel places his mug back on the table. “In that meeting with the social worker, she said some things. I really like you, but Ellie comes first. Ellie always has to come first.”

“I understand that, I’m the same with Sarah.” Joel responds. He reaches his hands across the table and I take it in mine. “I’ll take you in whatever way I can have you.”

My heart sinks at his concession. It’s sweet, and every girl’s dream, but I don’t feel deserving of it. Why should he be relegated to stolen moments behind closed doors? It’s selfish to ask that of him.

Just then Esther crosses back over to our table. I pull my hand back from Joel’s grasp as she approaches. She grabs his bicep again and I got my teeth.

“Everything alright over here, sugar?” She asks Joel, completely ignoring me.

He flits his eyes up to her face and smiles back at her politely. Blood rushes through my ears as I watch her grip on his arm tighten. Screw it, I’ll be selfish. I grab Joel’s hand again and turn my attention to Esther.

“I think we’re good, thank you.” I respond with my best fake smile. Esther’s eyes move back to me and then my hand holding Joel’s.

“Alrighty then,” she says. She lets go of his arm and sulks away.

—

I rush to unlock the door the second Joel texts me to tell me he arrived. Sure enough, he’s standing on the front porch, the glow of the porch light illuminating the waves in his messy brown hair.

We’ve kept things quiet over the last couple days, being careful not to act any different around other people. It seems best to keep things secret for now. We’re not in a relationship, it’s more casual than anything. I’ve waited all week to get my hands on him. There was no good way to sneak in a visit during the school week, but the girls are having a sleepover at my house tonight. I texted him when they finally fell asleep and he came over immediately.

I look at the empty street around him and then grab a hold of the collar of his shirt and pull him into the house. He grips my hips for support as he follows me inside, smiling against my lips when he leans down to kiss me. I’m careful to close the door and lock it as quietly as I can to ensure the girls stay asleep in Ellie’s room upstairs.

There’s an excited energy coursing through me. I’m not sure whether it stems from the newness of this thing with Joel, the building pressure off barely having seen him sided we agreed to see what this is, or the rush of sneaking him around like a secret to be preserved just for me. Whatever it is, my body aches to feel him, to hold him, to be felt by him.

“Somebody’s excited,” Joel chuckles as he pulls my body closer to his. He kisses me again, deeper this time while he holds my hips against his.

“I need you,” I respond when we break away from each other. Joel squeezes my hips tighter, a low moan escaping his chest.

“Say it again,” Joel pleads.

“I need you, now Joel.” I say again. He whimpers at the sound of it. We don’t have a lot of time together tonight. He still has to head home when we’re done so the girls don’t get suspicious, and I can’t wait any longer. I press a quick peck to his lips and then take his hand to drag him up the stairs.

He quickly follows at my heels. I take him to my bedroom and push him back toward my bed. He topples onto the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides as I climb on top of him. I press my knees on either side of his thighs and lean down to press delicate kisses along the column of his neck.

“Fuck baby, what’re you-“ he gasps when my hands reach down to his belt buckle.

His body is already twitching under my grasp while I slowly undo his belt and throw it behind me on the floor. I lower his jeans next. His hands move from where they had been grasping the sheets to squeeze the sides of my thighs. I make quick work of his shirt next, pulling the buttons open and kissing down his exposed chest.

I press kisses all the way down his body, nipping and licking at the skin from time to time as well. When I reach the waistband of his underwear I press a kiss to his hip and slowly pull the boxers down his thighs as he throws his head back and groans.

His cock springs out at me, hard as a rock already. I’ve felt how large Joel was through his jeans before, when he pressed me down on his lap to grind against him until I came, but to see it is a completely different thing. Joel is huge, his cock easily bigger than any I’ve ever seen before let alone been with. The tip is already leaking a bead of pre-cum which I happily lick into my mouth.

His hips twitch as my lips press against his tip and he makes a quiet hissing sound through his teeth. I take his reaction as encouragement to continue, licking a delicate stripe up the side of his shaft. His hands tangle in my hair as he desperately fights to keep his moans quiet. I take more of him in my mouth and start bobbing my head up and down.

“Yes baby, god,” Joel groans. “Good girl, you’re doing so good.”

I hum appreciatively at his praise, causing his hold body to shiver and his hips to buckn further into my mouth. I choke slightly at first, but quickly adjust to take more of him down my throat.

He’s having a hard time suppressing his noises now. One of his hands adjusts in my hair to hold it in a makeshift ponytail while the other moves to his mouth. He bites down on his hand to muffle his sounds as he watches me through heavy eyes. I pull up for a moment, swirling my tongue around the tip before sinking my mouth back down again.

“Fuuuuccckk,” he moans around his hand. He starts to thrust his hips up, unable to hold back any longer. I welcome his length deeper into my mouth, the tip of his chock brushing against the back of my throat with each thrust. I continue to moan while my eyes water.

I haven’t always enjoyed this part, many of my boyfriends before were so rough with it, and quick to move on once they got what they wanted, but the sight of Joel coming further and further undone as I take him in my mouth makes me clench my thighs to ease the pressure at my core. I could do this all night, enjoying the feeling of him taking what he wants, but suddenly he pulls me off of him.

“Stop, stop,” he says exasperated. He breath comes out in pants while his cock twitches against his stomach.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” I ask. Joel leans down and uses his thumb to wipe my cheeks off the tears that escaped while he fucked my throat.

“No baby, that was so good, but if you didn’t stop I was gonna come.” I stick out my bottom lip and pout.

“Isn’t that the point?” I ask. I reach my hand out to start pumping him again, but he grabs my wrist.

“Not before you it isn’t. I gotta be inside you tonight.” I whimper and he pulls me onto the bed.

Joel adjusts our positions so I’m splayed out on the bed with my head on the pillows. He slowly pulls my old t-shirt over my head, revealing my naked breasts. He groans at the sight of them and quickly lick over one of my nipples. My back arches into him involuntarily. It’s my turn now to muffle my sounds as he sucks on my nipple, releasing it with a pop before moving on to the next one.

When he’s satisfied he lowers his lips to nip at the underside of my boob and moves his hands down to push my sweatpants off and onto the floor. He traces his fingers over the center of my soaked panties.

“You’re so wet for me sweetheart,” he says. He moves his lips up to suck on my neck while he moves his fingers in circles over my panties. “She really been needing me that bad?”

I whimper in response, nodding my head in desperation as I squirm underneath him. He flashes a devilish grin.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll give you what you need.” He promises.

His fingers grip the waistband of my panties and he quickly pulls them off my body as well, leaving me completely bare in front of him. He stands over me, eyes roaming over my figure hungrily.

I move to cover myself, but Joel grabs my wrists and pins them above my head with one hand. His other hand slowly caresses my body while I whimper.

“Don’t you dare cover yourself, you’re too damn gorgeous for that.” He says as his hand moves lower.

He cups my mound and smiles when I buck my hips up for more. He carefully slips one of his fingers through my folds, watching my reaction as I squirm underneath him. I fight to keep my eyes on his face and spread my legs further for him.

His thumb reaches down to gently start making circles on my clit. I throw my head back, panting with my eyes squeezed shut. My back arches and Joel uses one of his hands to pin my hips down.

He slides further down the bed and slips two fingers inside me while his thumb continues to circle my clit. I moan quietly at the new feeling. His fingers are thick. It burns softly as my body stretches to welcome him further, but it’s not enough. I need all of him.

“C’mon baby. C’mon, give it to me.” He says, sending a shock through my whole body as his fingers start to thrust into me harder and faster.

I can feel my climax building. His fingers hurt a spot inside me that causes me to see stars. I bite my lip so hard that I can taste blood. The hands on my hip grips me tighter to keep my ass against the mattress. I climb higher and higher until I break.

I whimper Joel’s name as I come, his eyes never leaving my face while he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of my throbbing pussy. When my orgasm finishes he stops for a brief moment to wrap his arms around my thighs. He pulls his mouth to my core, his breath fanning over my sensitive pussy before he begins licking through my folds.

I thrash underneath him, still sensitive from my orgasm, while he holds me still with his hands on my thighs. He sucks on my clit and then releases it with a pop.

“Knew you’d taste so good,” he groans. He kisses my thigh and immediately goes back to my core.

He thrusts his tongue inside me, swirling his tongue around then going back to sucking on my clit. My fingers card into his hair. One of his hands lets go of my thigh to bring his fingers back to my pussy. I pull on his curls as he slides three fingers inside, immediately finding the spot that makes my toes curl.

He smiles and hums against my clit as my pussy clenches around his fingers. I can already feel my next orgasm building.

“Joel, fuck. Joel.” I chant his name as I feel the edge approach. He moves his fingers faster, his tongue moving in quick motions over my clit as well. When my second orgasm washes over me I rush to cover my mouth to muffle my screams.

He continues lapping my juices as I come down, twitching from the sensitivity. When he’s satisfied he moves back up the bed to my lips and kisses me again. His beard is slick with me and I can taste myself in his tongue.

“You ready for me baby?” He asks when he finally manages to pull his lips off mine. I nod, quickly grabbing a condom out of the nightstand drawer and handing it to him. I need him.

Joel tears the foil open and rolls the condom down his length. Then he reaches down and rubs his cock through my folds. I gasp, tilting my hips against him. He smiles as he rubs the tip against my clit. He notches himself at my entrance and I whimper.

“Please, Joel, I can't wait any longer. I need you, plea-“ he slowly begins to sink into me. “Joel!”

I moan loudly as his cock stretches me open. He moves a hand up to my mouth to stifle my moans, grunting himself as he bottoms out. He is so deep inside me. I’m not sure if I’ve been with anyone as big as Joel before. He pauses once his hips are flush with mine. He reaches down as kisses me as my pussy throbs around him, and then he slowly pulls out almost completely. The breath is forced out of my lungs when he slams back into me.

He sets a steady pace, his cock hitting my g-spot with each thrust. I can already feel the next orgasm building as I focus on his grunts. So good. So good.

Joel moves his thumb down to my clit again. He moves it in small circles as he thrusts into me. My nails rake down his back, sure to leave marks behind, but it just stirs him on.

“That’s it baby, fuck! You gonna come again? You gonna come on my cock?” He asks. I’m dangling over the edge again. I moan out as he thrusts harder.

“Yes Joel, fuck. You feel so good. So fucking good inside me. Fuck! I’m going to come. I’m going to come again.”

My pussy clenches and then I let go, Joel moving his head to bite into my shoulder to keep himself from shouting out while I clench around him. When my orgasm subsides Joel pulls all the way out and flips me around on the bed.

“Hands and knees sweetheart,” he directs. I do as he says, spreading my knees apart for him. He groans as he looks at my glistening folds and then quickly pushes himself back inside me. “Fuck, you’re so good baby. Feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock like that.”

He wraps my hair around his fist and pounds into me hard. Each thrust has his hips slamming into my ass. I’m starting to feel weak after my three orgasms, shaking slightly as my hands try to keep my upper body off the mattress.

A familiar tightening begins in my core. I didn’t know it was possible to orgasm this much in one night, but my next one starts building again. Joel is close too, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he moans more. He leans down to press his chest against my back while continuing his thrusts.

“One more sweet girl,” he whispers in my ear. “Been doing so good for me. Give me one more and then I’ll let go.”

I whimper as I get closer, my fists baking the sheets up tightly as he continues to slam his hips into me. He moves his chest off my back and pulls my hair again which immediately sends me over the edge. My arms collapse and I cry out as the pleasure takes over.

“Good girl, fuck, perfect. You’re perfect.” Joel grunts. He slams his hips into mine once, twice, and then he spills into the condom.

He groans as he lets go, one hand gripping my hips tightly while the other stays tangled in my hair. His body twitches against mine for a couple of minutes until he pulls out, tying the condom and throwing it away. I stay laying on the bed while he slips his boxers on and sneaks across the hall to the bathroom. When he comes back he has a warm washcloth. He gently cleans between my thighs and puts the cloth in the laundry bin before returning to bed.

I immediately wrap a leg around him and put my head on his chest while he lies down. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around me to pull me close.

“If you want to keep this secret I can’t stay all night,” Joel whispers into my hair.

“I know, just a little longer.” I respond. He kisses the top of my head and we rest, listening to the soft sounds of each other's breath until I hear Joel drift into sleep.

—

I watch the clock with bleary eyes as Joel’s chest rises and lowers under my head. He can’t stay all night, despite how much I want him to, so I stay awake.

I memorize the feeling of his hand on my hip, and the rush waving through my hair with each exhale. I draw patterns on his bare chest with my fingertips, lingering on the raised scar tissue in places. I trace the outlines of his sleeping face in my mind, so tranquil. His usual worry lines fade slightly. They’re still pressed into his skin, inevitably they’ll become wrinkles some day, but they’re faint now.

At 5:30 I wake him up. I say his name softly and press gentle kisses to his skin. He stirs slowly underneath me and blinks while he tries to assess his surroundings. His arms instinctively pull me closer to him, causing my body to melt into his.

“They’ll be up in a couple hours, you gotta go,” Joel groans. He buries his face in my hair. I find myself debating if it really would be that bad if they found out. For all we know Sarah and Ellie could love the idea, but now is probably not the time to test that theory.

He presses a kiss to my forehead before he pulls away and sits up. He stretches out his body, grunting at the effort. I slide off the bed and grab his flannel from the floor. Joel watches me put it on with a big smile on his face.

“What?” I ask, blushing. His eyes moved slowly from his oversized flannel hanging on my shoulders to my bare legs underneath.

“Nothin’” he responds, the twang in his voice more evident when combined with the deep tone of his morning voice. “You just look beautiful is all.”

He slips on his boxers and jeans then pulls his socks and shoes back on as well. Before he walks down the hallway I peek into Ellie’s room. Both her and Sarah are still fast asleep, their heads pressed together as they share Ellie’s bed.

Joel looks in on them over my shoulder and then I quietly close the bedroom door. I hold his hand as I sneak him across the hallway and down the stairs. I feel like a teenager again, sneaking my boyfriend down the stairs before my parents can notice.

He lingers at the front door, gripping my jaw and pulling me in for another kiss. His other hand grips my hip over the top of his flannel and pulls me close to him. I tangle my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

When we separate he kisses my forehead one more time and walks out the door. I stay on the doorstep and watch his truck pull away, Joel stopping to wave at me before he makes his way out of the neighborhood.

I try to get some sleep afterward, but I end up just tossing and turning in bed while smiling like an idiot. I look at the click on my nightstand and decide I probably still have a bit of time before Ellie wakes up. I take a deep breath of Joel’s scent in the flannel, taking it off to change into my painting clothes.

I check Ellie’s bedroom door one more time before I slip into our parents’ room. The floor crinkles when I step onto the paper I placed on the hardwood in order to protect it from any paint splatter. I pick up supplies and start a new canvas, absentmindedly stroking my brush across the empty space.

I mix different shades of pink, purple, and blue to create a sunrise, but each color also morphs into the shape of him. The dark brown mountain tops shift into the waves of his hair. The golden peach color of the sky adding highlights to his skin. I lose track of everything but the details of the paint until I hear the sound of a knock at the bedroom door. Shit.

I shift the painting out of view from the door and put my supplies back on the dresser. Ellie is standing at the door when I open it. She looks at me confused before she peers into the room behind me.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. I try to leave the room and close the door, but Ellie grabs it from me and opens it wider.

“What are you?” I stand aside so she can see I haven’t moved any of the furniture. She pinches her eyebrows together and looks at the canvases I have laying around the space.

“Nothing, I’ve just been getting back into painting again and I needed some space,” Ellie walks inside while I stand in the hallway. “I know I should’ve told you first. This was their room and it was off limits. If you’re not comfortable with it I can totally move my stuff out.”

Ellie makes her way around the room, looking at the different paintings I have leaning against the walls. It’s not a large collection, but I’ve managed to get a couple done over the last week. She stops in front of the first painting I completed.

It’s a meadow. Wildflowers bloom in the foreground while two girls play in the distance behind them with the evening sun setting under the mountains. Ellie leans in closer to see the faces of the girls, recognizing them as her and I.

“These are really good,” Ellie says with a smile on her face.

I look at the paintings as well. I don’t like to brag, but I truly do feel like this is some of the best work I’ve ever done. I can visibly see the emotion on every canvas. Each piece tells a story. I’ve painted great art before, but there’s a level of vulnerability to these pieces I’ve never attempted before.

“Thank you,” I respond.

I watch Ellie run her hand across the dresser next. She walks to mom’s closet and holds One of her shirts in her hands as it hangs off the hanger.

“She would’ve loved that you’re painting in here.” Ellie says with her back to me.

Ellie walks back to the painting of her and I. I move to be next to her, both of us focused on the painting. The version of us on the canvas are the girls who don’t yet know tragedy. They dance in a meadow of wildflowers with nothing holding them back. They are girls, they are sisters, they are free to live and love without limits.

“I think it’s okay. This space was meant to be lived in.” Ellie says. I bite my lip and nod. “They’re not coming back.”

Ellie turns to me, my eyes watering a bit as I fight tears. I can’t tell if it was a question, or a statement, but she doesn’t wait for my response.

“It’s time for us to move on I think.” She says. A couple of her own tears slip from her eyes. I reach over and wrap her in a hug. She squeezes me tight as she hugs me back.

“When did you get to be so smart?” I laugh, tears escaping my eyes as well. Ellie’s bedroom door opens and Sarah makes her way across the hall.

Ellie and I both let go, quickly drying our eyes before Sarah can notice. She looks at the art around the room as well.

“Wow, this is so cool! You painted all these?” Sarah asks.

She looks at the one I was just working on. I hold in my breath, hoping she doesn’t notice the similarity to her father. She doesn’t mention anything.

“Yeah, I’ve been getting back into it.” I respond. She moves over to the painting where Ellie and I stand.

“You’re really good.” I thank her. It’s actually kind of exciting to see their reactions to my paintings. It feels as though I’ve regained a piece of me.

The girls look at the different paintings, commenting on the colors I used and debating on what is happening in each one. They both ask me if I can show them how to paint which I happily agree to, it’ll be nice to share something with them the way our mom shared it with me.

When the girls are done assessing my work we go downstairs for breakfast. The girls hurry downstairs to start pulling out the ingredients for blueberry pancakes. I open the bedroom curtains before I go, letting the sunlight enter the room one more. When I leave the room, I keep the door open.

To read more visit a03.

161 notes · View notes