#ALSO ANOTHER STRANGE THING Is i was going through really old asks from like a year ago and I SAW U ASKED IF I WANTED TO ADD U ON GENSHIN- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unstable-samurai · 8 months ago

Text

Passenger

Nana x Male Reader

word count: 7.8k

A/n: special smut to celebrate Nana's birthday 🥳

You're sitting at the counter, glass half-empty. The bar lights are dim, casting a warm amber hue that makes the place seem imperfect, but in a comforting way. Most nights, someone else serves you, someone who never asks your name, and you never feel the need to say it.

But tonight, that person isn’t here. Instead, there’s Nana.

You’ve noticed Nana before. How could you not? She stands out like a wildfire in the middle of a forest. She has that kind of beauty that’s almost aggressive, as if every detail was designed to challenge the idea that perfect people don’t exist. Her hair is long, black like the night outside, and her body... Her body is like a work of art, covered in tattoos you try not to stare at for too long, but they demand attention. Her curves, her intense eyes. She moves like she doesn't care about the world, but you notice her every move, and although you haven't realized it yet, she also notices you.

Tonight, she's the one who walks up to you. When she stops in front of you, you can’t hide your surprise.

"Another one?" she asks. Her voice is slightly deep, velvety.

You nod, trying not to seem nervous, but you know you are failing.

"You come here every night," she says as she fills your glass. "But I never serve you."

"Yeah. It’s always that bearded guy," you reply, forcing a smile. Your voice feels smaller than it should.

"What brings you here every day?"

"I like the atmosphere."

"It’s not the best place to be every night, you know."

You let out a sigh.

"Still, you work here every night."

She raises an eyebrow.

"And that’s exactly why I know it’s not a good place for you. By the way, my name is Nana."

You grip your glass tightly, as if it’s the only anchor keeping you there. You do the formalities, say it's a pleasure to meet her and also give her your name, then continue: "Well, I’m new in town," you end up saying, not sure why you’re opening up to her. "I don’t know many people yet."

She pauses for a second, as if studying you. Something in her eyes changes. She doesn’t say anything, but the way her lips curve suggests she’s interested.

"New in town... and you’ve already chosen this hole of a bar to spend your time?" she teases, with a half-smile.

You laugh, a short, nervous laugh. "It’s what’s available."

She leans in a bit, resting on the counter. "And what are you looking for here? Besides cheap beer?"

You think about the answer. You don’t have one. Or maybe you do. Or maybe you really don’t.

"I don’t know," you reply.

She smiles. A smile that says she understands what you’re going through.

—

The bar is almost empty now, just you, Nana, and a few lost souls at distant tables. The conversation flows easily, slipping through words like the drink she keeps serving you. You feel a lightness in your shoulders that wasn’t there when you walked in, as if the weight of the day had melted away, dripping to the floor along with the drops of beer.

"I get off at midnight," she says, casually, as she dries a glass with a cloth. "What do you think about going for a drive with me?"

You almost choke. "Are you serious?"

She looks over the rim of the glass, one eyebrow raised, a small smile on her lips. "Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?"

You glance around, as if expecting someone to wake you from a prank. "I thought... I don’t know, it was just bar talk."

"Bar talk is usually full of crap, I know," she says, pushing the glass aside. "But I’m not the type to say things just to say them. When I need to clear my head, I go for a drive."

Now you’re more intrigued. "A drive?"

She leans on the counter, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. As if there were nothing strange about a bartender inviting a guy she barely knows to go out at night. "I have a hobby," she says, without rush. "I like to restore old cars."

"Old cars?" That catches you off guard. You didn’t expect that. Of all the things she could have said, that was the last.

She points her thumb outside, toward the street. "The Impala out there. It’s mine."

Your eyes follow her finger, and you see the car parked outside. A black Impala, classic, gleaming under the faint streetlights. You’ve seen it plenty of times, but you never imagined it was hers.

"You’re kidding," you say, with a half-smile. "I see it there all the time, but I didn’t know it was yours. It’s beautiful."

She smiles, a smile that feels more personal now, as if you’ve hit something you didn’t know you were aiming for. "I restored it myself," she says, with contained pride. "Took a few good years, but there it is, ready to take me wherever I want."

You can’t hide your admiration. She’s different. Very different. The kind of person who seems to have lived a hundred lives while you’re still trying to figure out your first. And she seems to enjoy keeping you off balance.

"You... seem like a one-of-a-kind girl," you blurt out, without much thought, and realize how foolish it sounds once it’s said aloud.

"I could say the same about you," she replies, with a wink.

You feel a little out of place now. She has this confidence, this raw energy that you’ve never had. And you, the opposite of everything Nana seems to represent, never imagined attracting someone like her. But, for some reason, here she is, inviting you out, asking you to get into her car, to see her world.

"So," she says, suddenly serious. "Are you coming or not?"

Your mind is still processing everything, but before you can overthink it, you respond. "I’m in."

"Then you’ll be my passenger for the night," she says, grabbing her car keys from her pocket and twirling them on her finger. She leans closer, the distance between you shrinking until you can smell her. "I’m gonna take you to places you’ve never been before," she murmurs, and the way she says it makes it feel like those places aren’t just physical.

—

You’re standing outside, arms crossed against the chill of the night that seems to grow colder by the hour. The bar has finally closed, and now you can hear the muffled voices inside, the last of the staff finishing up. The black Impala is parked in front of you, gleaming under the streetlight. You wait, anxious, unsure of what to expect.

The door to the bar opens, and she appears. Nana. This time, without the counter between you. You notice now, in a much more intense way, how her body fills the space. She’s all soft lines and yet strong, tattoos tracing her arms that you imagine extend to places you haven’t seen yet.

She pauses for a second, noticing your gaze, and smiles with a bit of amusement. "Like my tank top?" she asks casually, turning slightly as if wanting you to get a better look. "I think it fits just right, don’t you?"

You swallow hard, and suddenly, your words seem to have evaporated. "Yeah... it looks great on you."

She lets out a low laugh, tilting her head as she slips on her leather jacket. "You’re not very good at hiding things, are you?"

Before you can respond, she opens the car door and motions for you to get in. You walk to the other side, feeling the ground unsteady beneath your feet. When you settle into the passenger seat, the smell of the leather upholstery mixes with her perfume, something intoxicating.

She starts the car, the engine purring low, deep, like a beast waking up. Nana leans slightly toward you, offering a cigarette. "Want one?"

You hesitate for a second, but... why not? "Sure."

She lights your cigarette first, then hers. The car still parked, both of you smoking in silence. You cough twice before getting the hang of it. The smoke mingles with the cold air seeping through the slightly cracked window. She seems content with the moment, like the entire scene is unfolding exactly as she had planned.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

She takes a long drag from the cigarette before answering, blowing the smoke out the side of her mouth. "I was thinking we could head to the coast. There’s a cliff along the road where you can see the sea, the bridge, and the lighthouse... it’s beautiful at night." Before you can respond, she continues, turning her face toward you with that mischievous smile that seems to be her signature. "But honestly? The destination doesn’t matter much. What matters is the ride." She looks at you for a second longer. "The company."

The way she says that — the way her eyes linger on yours — makes you feel like, yes, you will understand.

“I’m in your hands,” you say.

—

The Impala rumbles softly as she finally parks on the shoulder near the cliff. The road seems deserted now, wrapped in darkness, except for the thin line of streetlights stretching ahead. You step out of the car, the night air cooler here, damper, with the salty scent of the sea rising up to meet you. Nana gets out on her side, slamming the car door and pulling the zipper of her leather jacket up to her chin. She glances at you for a moment, her eyes gleaming, as if analyzing your reaction.

“This way,” she says, her phone's flashlight on, pointing to a trail that winds down a small hill, overgrown with weeds. “Watch your step here. It gets slippery.”

You descend slowly, each step sinking slightly into the loose soil. The wind is stronger here, whipping through the leaves and Nana’s hair, which she pushes back carelessly. You follow close behind, focusing on each movement, trying to appear confident but feeling the vulnerability of walking along a dark trail leading to a cliff.

Finally, you reach the cliff’s edge. The view is breathtaking—the suspension bridge stretching across the gap, the sea below churning under the distant light of a lighthouse. Lights flicker in the distance, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world is just this scene, this moment.

“Wow,” you murmur, taking it all in. “I’ve never seen the bridge from this angle... but I’ve seen pictures of people here.”

“Some braver tourists come here,” she says. “I think it makes them feel alive.”

She turns to you, a mischievous smile on her lips. “Want to take a picture too? To mark the moment.”

You laugh nervously but agree. “Sure… why not?”

Nana raises her phone, positioning you against the dramatic backdrop. “Stand there, try to look... introspective.”

You awkwardly pose, crossing your arms and gazing at the horizon. She snaps the picture and looks at the result, chuckling softly. “Came out great. I’ll send it to you later.”

She shows you the picture, and yeah, it really is great.

She leans against a rock, lighting a cigarette and offering you one. You take it, inhale slowly, the bitter taste blending with the night. Silence hangs for a while, until she breaks the tension with a question.

“So… how’s life treating you?” Her voice is soft, but there’s something more behind it, a genuine curiosity, like she really wants to understand.

You hesitate, thinking about how to answer. “I’m not sure if I’m doing it right, to be honest.”

She laughs quietly, but not mockingly. It’s more a sound of recognition, like she’s heard that many times before.

“Knew you’d say something like that,” she replies, blowing smoke to the side. “Most people aren’t sure. Everyone pretends they know what they’re doing, but really, we’re all just fumbling in the dark.”

You look at her, waiting for more. She seems to be building up to something bigger.

“See… the problem is, we’ve been taught to measure happiness the wrong way,” she says, her tone turning more serious now. “They made us believe that happiness is about having things. Buying a new car, getting a promotion, finding the perfect partner. And all that’s just temporary bullshit. When you get it, it’s great. It lasts for a while. And then?”

She pauses, as if giving you time to process. “Then you need something else. Another goal, another prize. Happiness has become this trophy we’re always chasing. But no one tells you the race never ends. It’s like working on a treadmill.”

“You think we shouldn’t chase those things?” you ask, trying to grasp where she’s headed.

She looks at you with an intensity that catches you off guard. “It’s not that we shouldn’t chase them. It’s that we should stop measuring our lives by them. What really matters is right now. We spend so much time trying to build a perfect future that we forget the present.”

She exhales slowly, as if each word comes from some deep, lived truth. “What happens when you reach all those goals and still feel empty? Modern culture, capitalism, they sell you this idea that you’re incomplete until you have everything. But no one tells you that ‘everything’ doesn’t exist.”

You stay silent for a moment, considering. It feels like she’s saying something that’s been lurking in the back of your mind, unspoken.

“So, what should we do? Just give up on all that?”

Nana gives a sly smile, like she’s been expecting the question. “It’s not about giving up. It’s about redefining what ‘everything’ means. For me, it’s this. The journey. The company. Not the destination. What you do now, in the moment, with the people you’re with... that’s what matters. Happiness is in what you do along the way, not what you achieve at the end.”

She flicks the cigarette to the ground, crushing the tip under her boot. “Once you start living in the present, you stop worrying so much about achieving the future. Because, one way or another, the future comes. And most people don’t even know what to do with it when it arrives.”

You stand there, staring out at the horizon, feeling the weight of her words. It’s a philosophy that challenges everything you’ve been trying to do since moving to this new city, trying to fit in, trying to find your path.

“So, what now?” you ask, more to yourself than to her.

She smiles, looking at you in a way that makes the air around you feel heavier. “Now? Now you finish that cigarette, enjoy the view, and stop worrying so much about what comes next.”

—

On the way back to the car, Nana stops suddenly, spinning on her heels with a provocative gleam in her eyes. “Get in the backseat,” she says, her voice soft but with an authority that leaves no room for questioning.

“Why?” you ask, unsure of her intent.

She smirks. “Just do what I’m asking.”

You hesitate for a second, but curiosity—and something else—wins out. You open the back door and slide onto the seat. You barely have time to adjust before Nana climbs in after you, straddling your lap without hesitation. The warmth of her body against yours is immediate, electric.

“You’ve been waiting for this all night, haven’t you?” Her question comes as a whisper in your ear, her lips barely brushing against the skin of your neck.

Before you can respond, she kisses you, and everything becomes a blur of lips and skin, your heart pounding in your chest. Her hands move down your body while yours trace the curves of hers, feeling every inch.

“You’re so hot,” you blurt out, unable to hold back.

She laughs, a low, confident sound. “I know,” she replies, her lips barely leaving yours.

Her movements grow bolder, her body pressing into yours, her hips grinding provocatively against you, making you even harder beneath her. She notices. “I drive you crazy, don’t I?”

All you can do is nod.

“I’m going to take the lead tonight,” she says, sliding down without breaking eye contact.

“Lead on,” you answer, giving in completely.

She kneels in the cramped space of the backseat, shrugs off her jacket for more comfort, and tosses it to the front seat. Then, with swift efficiency, Nana unbuttons your pants, pulling them down along with your boxers in one fluid motion. Your hard cock is now exposed, throbbing under the dim light of the car.

She wraps a hand around it, pausing for a moment as if admiring her work. “Mmm, big and thick,” she comments like she’s appreciating a piece of art. She leans down, placing a soft kiss on the tip, running her tongue slowly along it, teasing. “Relax,” she whispers, her eyes never leaving yours, “because now, I’m taking you to the edge.”

She starts slowly, teasing. The tip of her tongue circles the head as if testing your limits. “Did you expect to get a blowjob tonight?” She smiles but doesn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll show you what it’s really like.”

Her tongue trails from the base of your cock, moving upwards agonizingly slowly, every movement deliberate. One hand grips you at the perfect spot, squeezing just enough to make you pulse, while the other fondles your balls, alternating between pleasure and pain in a rhythm that makes your mind spin.

You groan, the sounds escaping uncontrollably. “Fuck, Nana…” is all you can manage.

She pauses for a second, holding your cock against her face, rubbing it against her cheek. “This is what you’ve wanted from the start, isn’t it?” Her tone is a mix of teasing and command. “Seeing me down here, driving you crazy.”

Before you can answer, she takes you fully into her mouth, without warning, without preparation. Her hot mouth envelops every inch, the pressure perfect. She goes deep, as far as she can, not giving you a chance to breathe. You try to say something, but the sensation is too much.

She begins to move, her lips sliding up and down, with force and precision. “I want you to look at me,” she says, pulling you out of her mouth for a moment, her eyes locked on yours. “Watch what I’m doing.”

You obey, breathless, heart pounding in your chest.

She returns, this time more intense, sucking hard, obscene sounds filling the confined space of the car. Saliva drips down your cock, her hands working in sync, squeezing the base, each movement pulling you closer to the edge. She changes the pace again, speeding up, then slowing down, torturing you, keeping you on the brink of orgasm but not letting you go.

“You’ll only cum when I say so,” she declares, her mouth still around you, the words muffled but the command clear. “Understood?”

You can only nod, completely at her mercy. Every movement feels designed to extract the maximum amount of pleasure. Her hand is now firm on your balls, squeezing with precise control, while the other continues to guide the rhythm at the base of your cock. She speeds up again, sucking with a fervor that makes your vision blur.

“Fuck, Nana, I... I can’t anymore,” you moan, your whole body burning, muscles tense, pressure building.

“Not yet! Only when I allow it.”

Nana grips you harder now, almost brutally, her eyes locked on yours as she intensifies every movement. Her rhythm is relentless, no pauses, no mercy. Her hand squeezes the base of your cock as if she wants to wring every drop of pleasure from you. She knows what she’s doing, pushing you to the limit, not letting you breathe, not allowing you any control over what’s happening.

“Go on, I want to feel you lose control,” she whispers, her voice muffled as your cock slides deep into her mouth. The wet, filthy sound of each suck echoes through the car, mingling with your moans, now hoarser, more desperate. Her hand on your balls squeezes perfectly, making your vision darken at the edges.

She speeds up, her hot mouth sucking harder, her tongue swirling around the tip, teasing and pressing in all the right ways. Her other hand keeps your cock steady, controlling every inch that enters and leaves her mouth. You try to hold on, but she’s in command and won’t stop until she breaks you.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?” she says, her mouth still wrapped around you, each word making your cock throb more, pushing you closer to the edge. “I want you to cum now. In my mouth. I want to taste it.”

Your legs tremble, your whole body tense. The heat inside you grows, the pressure building until it feels impossible to hold on for another second. The control you tried to maintain disintegrates when Nana increases the intensity again, sucking with a force that makes you let out a deep moan.

“Nana, I’m going to...,” you can barely form the words, your entire body ready to explode.

“That’s right. Now you can,” she murmurs. Nana takes you all the way in, her throat tightening around your cock, and that sends you straight over the edge. Her hand grips your base firmly as she keeps sucking, drawing out every second of your orgasm. You have no choice anymore, your body gives in, and you feel the first wave of pleasure rip through you, your cock throbbing violently in her mouth.

You cum hard, your body shaking with intensity, muscles clenched as your cum explodes into her mouth. She doesn’t pull back, doesn’t hesitate. She keeps you deep, her mouth sealed, sucking every last drop, feeling every pulse. You feel the warmth of your own cum fill her mouth, and she doesn’t stop, still sucking, wanting more from you. She makes sure you give it all, every drop.

“That’s it... good boy,” she whispers between licks, her voice warm and husky, as the last spurt escapes, your body still trembling, exhausted.

She slowly pulls your cock out of her mouth, her lips sliding along the length in the process. Her eyes never leave you, dominant, satisfied.

“I told you I’d take you to the edge,” she says teasingly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, your taste still on her lips.

You’re buttoning up your pants, trying to process what just happened. Your mind is a whirlwind—everything feels surreal, like you’re watching from the outside. Nana is there, still with that lazy smile on her lips, as if she’d just done something casual, something she does with anyone. But you know that’s not true, she saw something in you. Though you’re not sure what.

“How do you feel?” Her question pulls you back to the car, to the moment.

You chuckle softly, a little incredulous. “Good... Too good, actually,” you answer, letting out a breath in a sigh that tries to release the tension.

“Great,” she says, reaching over the driver's seat to grab her jacket back. “That was the plan. And we’re just getting started.”

You look at her, confused. “Wait, there’s more?”

She laughs, tossing her hair back before sliding into the driver's seat. “Of course there’s more. I haven’t even had my turn yet.” She turns the key in the ignition, and the Impala roars to life like a beast awakening.

You join her in the front seat, grabbing another cigarette from the pack on the dashboard without thinking too much. The silence between you is comfortable now, almost conspiratorial. Nana glances at you from the corner of her eye, approving. “Light one for me too,” she says.

You obey, lighting both cigarettes and handing one to her. The smell of tobacco fills the car as the Impala rolls down the streets of the sleeping city. The engine hums, blending with the sound of tires on asphalt, a buzz that cradles the adrenaline.

Nana takes a long drag and exhales the smoke slowly, her eyes fixed on the road. “Ever gotten a blowjob in a car before?” The question comes casually.

“No,” you admit.

She smirks. “And how did it feel?”

You think for a second, the words swirling in your mind, trying to find something that captures what just happened. “Indescribable... Especially coming from someone as gorgeous as you.”

She laughs, a low laugh, like she expected that kind of compliment. “Thanks,” she says, with a hint of sarcasm. She shifts gears and speeds up a little more.

“Where are we going now?” you ask, trying to understand what else she has planned for the night.

Nana shrugs. “I don’t know. But there’s a gun in the glovebox, we could go out and rob some places... like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Too bad I’m a pacifist,” you joke, playing along.

She pouts mockingly, as if disappointed. “Of course you are... The best guys always are pacifists.” She winks, taking another drag before leaning in closer, the smoke mingling in the air between you. “But maybe we’ll find another way to have fun, huh?”

—

The Impala roars down the empty road, slicing through the quiet of the early morning like a blade. The city lights flicker in and out of view, passing as yellow and red blurs, while Nana drives with one hand on the wheel and the other holding her cigarette. Each time she inhales, the glowing tip briefly lights up her face, showing the smile that never leaves her lips.

She’s been talking for minutes, maybe hours—you’ve lost track of time. Her words are like smoke, wrapping around you in a philosophical fog that seems endless. “Freedom,” she says, taking a deep drag and letting the smoke out slowly, “isn’t what everyone thinks. It’s not doing what you want, when you want. No. It’s knowing that you’re nothing, nobody gives you a purpose. You’re free to create your own.”

You watch the streets go by, the low buildings and traffic lights blinking green. “Sartre,” she continues, never taking her eyes off the road, “he had this view... that we’re all condemned to be free. Like, the freedom to have to make choices, to live with those choices. There’s no ‘fate,’ just the shit you choose to do.”

You nod, not saying much, but taking in every word.

“Real freedom is knowing that all of this,” she gestures widely with her hand, indicating the city around you, “is meaningless. You, me, everyone. And still choosing what to do with it.”

The Impala turns onto a larger avenue now, lit by an endless string of streetlights. “We live in this invisible cage, you know? Jobs, money, house, car. But none of it matters, because in the end... nothing matters.” She smiles sideways, as if she’s just told the most tragic and funniest joke in the world.

You stay silent, processing. You’re not sure if you agree, but something about the way she speaks, the intensity with which she lives, makes sense. It’s like she’s living everything with such urgency that you have no choice but to keep up with her pace. It’s terrifying and addictive at the same time.

Another turn and you pull into an alley, where a neon LED sign marks a convenience store. Nana slows down and parks the car. “Second-to-last stop,” she says, turning off the engine and turning to you. “Convenience store. Let’s buy something to celebrate this condemned freedom.”

You step out of the car with her, the cool night air hitting your skin. She pulls the zipper of her jacket up again. “Tell me something,” she says as you walk toward the store entrance, “if you could do anything right now, with no consequences… what would you do?”

The question lingers, heavy, as she opens the store door. You don’t know how to respond, but the truth is, ever since you got into that car, it feels like you’ve been living exactly that: a night without consequences, a blur of unexpected freedom.

She grabs a soda from the fridge and tosses it to you. “Cheap philosophy, right? I promise I’ll stop here. Wait for me outside. Don't worry, I'll pay for your soda and buy some things and be right back.”

—

You’re leaning against the car’s hood, soda can in hand, but not really drinking. Suddenly, the convenience store door opens, and there’s Nana, but now she's holding something. It’s not what you expected—no bottles of beer or another round of cigarettes. She’s carrying a cake. Nothing fancy, just a white cake with frosting. And as she approaches, you can read what’s written, a bit crooked, in pink and blue icing: “Happy Birthday.”

You’re confused. “Happy birthday to me,” she says with a smile that tries to be casual, but you can see a hint of something deeper there.

“Wait, is it your birthday?” The question escapes before you can process it.

Nana lets out a short, humorless laugh, as if amused by your surprise. “Yeah, it’s today.” She waves the cake in front of you, almost like presenting proof. “Surprise, I guess.”

You straighten up, the soda can dangling loosely from your fingers. “Damn, happy birthday!” You hug her, awkward but sincere. The cake almost squashes between you, but she laughs again, this time genuinely. When she pulls away, you're full of questions. “But why… why are you spending your birthday with a stranger instead of, I don’t know, your friends, family?”

She shrugs, her eyes drifting for a second before returning to yours. “I don’t think anyone’s awake now to celebrate with me. I’ve got the whole day ahead for that. Right now, it’s just… my time. I was going to do this alone, you know? But then, I saw you alone at the bar and thought… maybe it would be nice. Maybe we could keep each other company.” She makes it sound simple, and maybe it is.

You watch as she places the cake on the hood of the car, like it’s the most natural setting for a celebration. She opens the packaging of a plastic knife—the flimsy kind that could snap at any moment trying to cut through tougher frosting—and starts slicing the cake right there, no ceremony, no ritual. Just a girl and a cake in a convenience store parking lot.

“I’ve only known you for a few hours, but this is so… you,” you comment.

“Good. You can lose everything, except your essence.”

As you take your first bite, the sweetness fills your mouth, but it’s the bitterness of the early morning that still lingers in the air. You’re eating cake in the middle of a parking lot, yet somehow, it’s the most meaningful cake you’ve ever had. She’s eating too, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the city lights blend into the dark sky.

“Everything I’ve said tonight,” she begins softly, “was more about me than you. I’m getting older, and these dates always make me think… reflect on everything. The choices. What could’ve been different, what still can be. I guess I was just trying to reaffirm something to myself.”

You look at her, chewing slowly. There’s something vulnerable in that moment, something you hadn’t seen in her until now. “Nana, you’re doing great,” you say, your words feeling a bit silly, but somehow, they make sense. “Look at you—you’re killing it.”

She smiles, but there’s a melancholy curve to her lips. “Yeah, maybe. Who knows.” She sighs, not out of exhaustion—more like someone shedding a weight they've carried for too long. “I always get reflective on my birthday. Maybe I just need to stop overthinking.”

You smile back, and something inside you, a light sense of urgency, makes you promise, “I’ll get you a present later.”

“You’re already my present,” she says, and then, with a quick move, she swipes some frosting and gently spreads it over your lips.

Before you can react, she kisses you. It’s sweet and warm, the taste of frosting mixing with the heat of her lips. And for a moment, you think of nothing—not the cake, not the parking lot, not the wild world. Just her.

She pulls you a little closer, and for a second, you get lost in the rhythm of her breathing, in the way her chest rises and falls, pressed against you. Nana’s hair falls over her face, and you feel its softness brushing against your skin.

When she finally pulls away, just enough to look into your eyes, your lips are still wet from the kiss. She quickly licks her own, as if savoring the moment. “This night…” she begins, her voice low, almost a whisper. “It’s been really great.”

You try to say something, but your mind is still spinning from the kiss, so you just manage to say, “Thanks… for pulling me out of my comfort zone.”

“The night’s not over yet, we still have so much to explore, so much to feel. And if you think that was stepping out of your comfort zone… just wait.” She pauses, her eyes drifting to your lips before locking onto yours again. “There’s more where that came from.”

You chuckle, not because it’s funny, but because it’s all you can do. The weight of her words feels lighter now, the tension between you both like an electric current that keeps flowing, even when you’re not touching. Her taste still lingers on your lips.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” you say, finally taking in a full breath, as if you’ve been holding it since the night began. “I didn’t know it, but… I needed it.”

She gives a small nod, as if she knew that all along. “I can feel the energy of the people around me. And when I saw you at that bar… you looked like you needed a different kind of night. Something… off the script. And now here we are.”

“Yeah… here we are.”

“But seriously,” she continues, her voice lower, almost confiding. “I wanted tonight to be good. And I’m glad you’re here with me. Truly.”

You run a hand through her hair, just a light touch, but it says everything. “I’m glad you chose me for this.”

“You were the best choice of the night. And now…” She glances around, as if looking for something, anything to pull you both back into the moment. “Let’s finish this cake before it melts on the hood.”

She scrapes a bit more frosting with her finger and brings it to her mouth, but before tasting it, she smears another dollop on your lips again, with a mischievous smile. “This time, I want you to kiss me.”

—

Nana drives in silence, the car gliding along the nearly empty road. The city lights fade behind you, and the cool night air begins to seep in through the slightly open window. You feel the freshness, the smell of asphalt and dew-covered grass. She doesn’t say much, just smiles occasionally, as if she knows exactly what's coming and wants to savor your curiosity. And you, lost in your own thoughts, can only wonder where she's taking you now.

"It's a place where we can really relax," she says, breaking the silence. "You'll see. I promise."

Minutes later, you pull up in front of a motel. It's not one of those seedy places you see in mafia movies, but it's no five-star hotel either. The neon lights blink in soft tones, and the sign above the entrance looks a bit old, but well-maintained. You recognize the place by sight, but you never imagined you'd find yourself here. Nana pulls the handbrake in a swift, almost automatic motion and looks at you.

"Shall we?" She doesn’t wait for an answer. She steps out of the car, and you follow.

Inside, the lobby is small and discreet. A receptionist behind the counter doesn’t even look up from the book she's reading while Nana handles everything. In minutes, you’re climbing the stairs, walking through narrow hallways with striped wallpaper. There's a strange calm in the air.

When you both enter the room, it’s... normal. No surprises, just a wide double bed covered with white sheets and a brown bedspread. A lamp in the corner casts a soft light, and the curtains are thick enough to keep the outside world at bay. In the background, a TV is mounted on the wall, a small fridge nearby, and the inevitable mirror above the headboard—a cliché the motel couldn’t resist.

Nana kicks off her shoes and jacket in seconds, almost like she's at home. She walks over to the bed and, without hesitation, jumps onto it, sinking into the sheets.

"Good," she says, looking at you lazily, "I hope you know how to make the birthday girl happy. You know what I mean, right?"

You give a half-smile, a bit awkward, and walk to the bed, sitting on the edge. The feel of the soft mattress under you eases some of the tension in your body. She reaches out and touches your arm.

"Relax," she whispers. "No need to rush."

She gets up and goes to the small light control on the wall. With a click, a soft neon glow, in shades of pink and purple, fills the room, replacing the lamp’s light. Now, the room has a warm, intimate, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

She returns to the bed, this time with two small bottles of tequila she found in the mini-fridge. She hands one to you, opening hers with a pop.

"Shall we toast?" She raises her bottle in the air. "To unexpected nights... and the best company."

You raise yours too. "To the most interesting birthday girl I've ever met."

You drink, and the alcohol burns its familiar path down your throat, spreading warmth through your body. She lets out a soft laugh, that laugh you know so well, and moves closer. The closeness between you grows, not just physically, but in a way you can’t quite explain. As if, with every sip, every exchanged glance, something deeper is being built.

"I like this," she says, her voice soft, almost melancholic. "Being here, now. With you. It feels like... like I've finally stopped running for a second, you know? Like life pressed pause so I could breathe."

You feel the warmth of her hand on yours and gently squeeze it. "And I like that you pulled me out of my own head for a night."

She smiles, her eyes glowing under the neon light.

The tension between you grows, but it’s not rushed. It’s slow, almost like a rhythm you’ve created together. She leans in and kisses you, this time with a softness that suggests it's not just desire—it’s connection.

She pulls back, looking into your eyes, as if she’s studying every part of you. "From now on, the birthday girl is all yours."

Then she sighs, looking at you with those eyes that, until now, always seemed in control. But now, for the first time, they seem to be surrendering to you.

She gently takes the tequila bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table along with hers. Standing, Nana’s hands move to the hem of her tank top, and in a slow, almost ritualistic gesture, she lifts it over her head. The fabric slides down her skin like it's nothing, and suddenly, she’s exposed. Her slender body, the tattoos, her small, almost non-existent breasts, raw beauty without pretense. She sits at the edge of the bed, vulnerable for the first time.

"Do you like what you see?" she asks as she lies down on the bed. She’s not in control now.

For now.

You don’t answer. Instead, you stand up, just to be able to look down at her, feeling the power of the situation shift. She stays there, lying down, waiting, in a long, tension-filled pause. You want her even more because of it.

Nana looks at you, biting her lower lip, impatient but silent. And then, with a brief smile, you lean over her. Your hands go straight to her neck, firm but not aggressive. Just enough for her to feel that you're in charge. She closes her eyes, her breath quickening as you lower your head and begin kissing her skin—first her neck, then her shoulders. Your touch is slow, every movement deliberate, and she melts bit by bit. She moans as your lips trail down to her breasts. You open your mouth, teasing her skin with your tongue, tracing the outline of her small, dark areolas. Nana sighs, eyes closed, wordless now. She’s passive, completely surrendered, her moans soft and ragged.

"Keep going..." she murmurs, barely audible.

You obey, but at your own pace. You take one of her breasts in your hand, gently squeezing while sucking on the other, your tongue playing with her nipple. Nana arches her back, trying to move against you, but your hands on her hips keep her in place. She struggles, impatient, but you don’t let her. "Slow down, Nana," you whisper, your voice controlled, almost cold. "The night is ours."

She laughs, a short, shaky laugh. "You bastard..." she says, but there’s amusement in her voice, an acceptance of the role she’s now playing. "Are you going to make me beg?"

"Only if you want to," you reply, your lips returning to her breasts, alternating between them now, nibbling harder, your tongue circling the areolas. She moans louder, finally surrendering completely to the situation.

Nana lets out a long sigh, her fingers twisting into the sheets as you move over her with more intensity, and her breathing becomes erratic. "Damn, this... this is..." She can barely form a sentence. "This feels so fucking good..."

She tries to squirm, seeking more contact, but you hold her down again, keeping her in place. And for the first time, she doesn’t fight back. She accepts it, and that’s exactly what you wanted.

Then comes the moment. "Now I need you to eat me out," she says. And of course, you oblige. Her pants slide down her legs, and when you see it, there’s that wet spot on her white panties. You hold back the anticipation for a moment as you undress, there’s no rush, and that teases Nana in a fun way. Now free of any fabric, you trace your fingers over her panties, feeling the warmth, the moisture, while your lips travel down her thighs, following a path that leads you closer to what you really want.

She moans softly, but just enough to let you know you’re doing it right. Every second of anticipation is killing her, and she likes it. Until it becomes unbearable, and she squeezes her thighs around your head, whispering, "Lick me already. Come on, I’m about to explode."

When you pull off her panties, it’s like peeling away the last layer of something much deeper. The air in the room feels heavier, and her scent fills the space like a wild, addictive perfume. You kneel between her legs, the warm skin of her inner thighs pressing lightly on either side of you. Every breath she takes, every swallowed moan, brings you closer, deeper. Your tongue moves slowly, first lightly, as if testing, tasting the contours. The wet heat pulsing inside her precedes something big, something that’s going to break when you finally open the floodgates.

"Don’t stop..." she whispers, surrendered. "More... deeper."

You comply. Your tongue works as if following a rhythm only the two of you know. Its tip finds that exact spot, and Nana arches, her hips trembling, as if every muscle in her body is short-circuiting, rebelling. She moans louder now, unashamed, uncontrolled.

"Like that... don’t stop, fuck, keep going..." Her voice blends with her breathing, her moans becoming more spaced, almost suffocated.

You feel her taste growing stronger, the moisture increasing in your mouth, on your lips, and then, without warning, Nana’s entire body contracts. Her muscles tighten, her legs squeeze your head hard, and she cums, a muffled scream escaping her throat. Her body trembles, her hips spasming involuntarily, and you keep going, knowing it’s not over. Not for her.

"Fuck... this... my god..." She moans through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut, her whole body vibrating as if she’s in another dimension. And you continue, your tongue sliding faster, deeper, until she lets out a final moan, long, drawn-out, as if exorcizing everything inside her.

When you come back up, her taste is still fresh in your mouth. You kiss her, her tongue meeting yours, and she tastes herself on your lips.

"You... fuck... you drove me crazy," she says, her voice weak but still full of intent. She looks at you, her eyes bright, satisfied, then she smiles. "Now... fuck me. Fuck me like it’s the last thing you’re going to do today."

She turns over on all fours, her knees sinking into the mattress with that natural movement, without hesitation. The invitation doesn’t need words; it’s all in the gesture, in the way her hips raise, her spine arched just enough to drive you completely insane. The tattoos scattered across her slim body come alive under the soft room light, every line of the design blending with the shadows, while her desire escapes in small sighs.

You grab her hips, your fingers digging into the soft flesh as if trying to anchor her to the moment. The first thrust is slow, almost a test, and Nana lets out a low moan, something between pleasure and provocation. She loves feeling the tension building in you and pushes back, forcing you to go deeper.

"That’s it..." she murmurs through gritted teeth, "harder."

You obey. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixing with her moans, growing louder each time. The pace quickens, you pull her closer, burying yourself deeper, while Nana moves against you, her hips meeting yours with perfect precision at each thrust. The sheets bunch up beneath her, and her moans turn into something almost animalistic, a rough sound that makes her body tremble.

"Fuck..." she moans, her head dropping forward, hair falling into her face. "Fuck me faster."

You grip her hips harder, her body responding to yours with absolute submission. Every movement is an exchange—a silent request, an inevitable response. Her moans become more erratic, the bed creaking with the frantic rhythm you both reach. Her whole body tense, the muscles in her back and thighs contracted, almost falling apart under your hands.

Suddenly, she stops, breaking the rhythm, and turns around. Her gaze is wild, a mix of excitement and challenge. "Now let me do it my way."

She climbs on top of you, her knees sinking into the mattress next to your hips, and the sight is mesmerizing. Nana looks down at you, her eyes half-closed, lips parted, as she slowly lowers herself, feeling every inch of you filling her again. She lets out a heavy sigh and starts moving, first slow, controlled, her hips rising and falling with calculated precision, almost cruel.

"You like watching me like this?" she asks, her voice raspy, full of satisfaction.

All you can do is nod. And she smiles, that smile that says she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. Nana picks up the pace, her hips slamming against yours with force, riding you without a shred of inhibition. Her hands find your chest, nails lightly scratching your skin, her face twisted in pure pleasure. She leans forward, her small breasts pressed against you, her mouth close to your ear as she whispers, her voice broken by moans.

"You... are... perfect."

Nana's hands grip your shoulders, her hips riding your cock with the precision of someone who knows their body well. But it won’t last like this. Not for long. You need to take control. "My turn," you whisper against her ear. She lets out a low moan, a half-smile, like she was waiting for it.

She climbs off of you. You both adjust, lying on your sides, legs intertwined, and you pull her closer, your mouth on her neck, tasting her sweaty skin, the scent of desire mixing with the heat of the room. "Closer," you say, as your hands travel down her tattooed hips, pulling her into you. Nana doesn’t hesitate, grinding her hips, sinking deeper into you, her eyes half-closed, mouth open, moaning.

"You like it like this, don’t you?" you ask, one hand sliding to her neck. She turns her head to look over her shoulder, that same half-cynical, half-hungry smile.

"I love it," she murmurs, and then your fingers lightly tighten around her throat. Nothing violent, just enough for her to feel the pressure. It makes her moan even louder, her body reacting, giving in to the control you’ve taken. "Harder," she asks, eyes shutting like she's lost in her own satisfaction.

You squeeze a little more, controlling the intensity with the same precision you control the thrusts. Each time you bury yourself inside her, she grips the sheets, her whole body tense with pleasure. The heat of her skin, the way she moves against you, the sound of her moans muffled by your hand... all of it makes you lose track of anything else.

"You’re so fucking hot," you say, your entire body focused on how she’s giving herself to you. She moans in response, but her words are getting more fragmented, harder to get out. You release her neck for a second, just to let her breathe better. She swallows hard and lets out a short laugh, almost in disbelief.

"Fuck, you’re gonna make me come again," she confesses, and you realize you’re almost there too. You pull out of her, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling Nana into your lap, and she climbs back on top of you. The heat of her skin against yours is instant, and you feel her entire body mold to yours like a second skin. Your feet are planted firmly on the floor, ready for the intensity of Nana’s hips. Her hands grip your shoulders, and her pussy sinks down slowly on your cock with a precision that’s pure wickedness.

The room is a mess of discarded clothes, crumpled sheets, and the scent of sex hanging in the air.

She settles in, adjusts, and then starts riding, slow at first, almost like she’s teasing, savoring the moment.

"Mmm, I knew you’d like it when I ride you… Mmm, yeah, I bet it has become your favorite position…" she murmurs, her voice low, while her nails lightly scratch your shoulders, her ass moving with pinpoint accuracy on your cock. The sensation is overwhelming, the tight, wet grip as if she was made for this.

You hold onto her hips tightly, fingers sinking into her skin, pulling her closer, deeper. "Fuck, Nana… You’re so good," you blurt out, not even realizing the words slipped out.

She lets out a little laugh, muffled by the sound of bodies colliding. "I know," she replies, and you can feel her ego swelling alongside the pleasure she’s giving you. She picks up the pace, and now there’s nothing gentle about it. No. Now it’s skin on skin, the sound of flesh against flesh, and her ass moving fast, faster, her moans coming in waves, louder and louder.

You feel everything. Her weight in your lap, her hips rising and falling in a rhythm only she controls. The way she moans when you pull her even closer, when you force the thrusts to go deeper. The sensation is brutal. You can barely think, barely speak, all you can do is moan along with her, your bodies drenched in sweat and pleasure.

"You like it when I do this, don’t you?" she gasps, her hair falling messily across her face as she rides you like she’s competing with her own pleasure. "You love it when I sit on your cock, right?"

You can only nod. Any attempt to speak would be a pathetic moan at this point.

She leans forward, her lips at your ear, her breath hot and ragged. "I’m gonna come like this… right in your lap," she whispers, like it’s a dirty secret. "And you’re gonna come with me. Together."

And there’s no escaping it. She’s pulling you along, dragging you down with her, every movement sinking you both deeper into this shared haze of raw pleasure.

Nana speeds up, riding with an almost desperate urgency now, her moans turning into muffled screams, her nails clawing at your back, leaving marks. With each thrust, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind, like the pleasure is tearing you apart from the inside.

Nana leans forward, her hair falling loose across her face, her hands braced on your shoulders as she picks up speed, and it’s like the world is melting around you. Each time she comes down on your cock, the sound of flesh slapping together is almost deafening. Her ass slides so perfectly in your lap it feels like you were made for this.

"Fuck, Nana…," you let out, almost without control, gripping her hips, pulling her even deeper, feeling your cock completely swallowed up. "I’m gonna come..."

She smirks, a wicked, crooked grin, as she keeps riding you with an almost violent intensity. "Come inside me."

Your hands slide down her sweaty back, fingers digging into her flesh, and you can only nod, speechless, your breathing ragged, your body already trembling, about to collapse. She leans in, her words a whisper against your ear: "Come with me… I want your hot cum in my tight little pussy."

And then it happens. Her body shakes, and yours follows, and everything implodes. You feel the spasm that grips her, her pussy tightening around you in a way that knocks the breath out of you, and that’s it. There’s no turning back. You come with a force that feels like it’s ripping your soul out of your body, filling her up, each thrust spilling more. Nana screams your name, or at least something that sounds like it, and she sinks down one last time, slowly, sitting fully on your cock, feeling every drop of your cum inside her.

"Fuck, Nana…" is all you can manage as the world comes back into focus, your body exhausted but still buzzing with the intensity of it all.

You stay like that, quiet, your bodies still pressed together, breathing heavy, trying to find a normal rhythm again. The room is drowned in silence, the kind of silence that only exists when the noise was so loud before it feels almost unreal now. You’re still inside her. You can feel the soft, steady heat of Nana’s body around your cock, a warmth that pulses slowly, matching the rapid beat of your heart. She doesn’t move, just stays there, relaxed against your body.

"It feels so good having you inside me like this," she says, almost like letting go of a secret, her voice low, muffled, without her usual brazen confidence. You smile, still catching your breath, and you feel a trickle of your hot cum running down your cock. "It’s your birthday, but I’m the one who got the gift," you reply. "Thank you. For this amazing night. For the conversation. For the sex. For getting to know you, Nana."

She stays quiet for a second, and you feel her body tense a little against yours. Like she’s embarrassed. Nana? Embarrassed? It’s almost funny. You can hardly believe it, but there it is, the slight blush on her cheeks, the way she looks off to the side. And before you can say more, she kisses you. A quick kiss, but full of urgency. Like she wants to stop whatever words you were about to spill.

"Shut up, idiot," she mutters against your lips, a little laugh escaping her.

You pull her a little closer, savoring the last remnants of the moment, not wanting to break whatever it is you’ve just created together. She sighs, relaxing even more, as if she’s finally let her body collapse after holding it all together for so long.

"This was a gift for me too," she finally says, letting out the laugh she’d been holding back. "And what a gift, huh? I didn’t think it’d be so... memorable." The word comes out with her typical sarcasm, but there’s a layer of real gratitude hidden beneath that tough exterior.

"I’d say the same," you reply, your voice a little lighter, your body finally slowing down, though still electrified by the feeling of being inside her.

Then, suddenly, she lets out a quiet, mischievous giggle. "Can you feel it?" she asks. "Can you feel how full of cum I am?"

She slowly climbs off your lap, placing one foot on the bed, her eyes locked on you as she spreads her legs. "Look at this," she murmurs, using two fingers to part her pussy lips, letting the cum start to drip out. "Wow, you really filled me up." The liquid drips down her fingers as she teases, "What’s better than a creampie for a birthday?”

—

You wake up to the soft light filtering through the motel curtains, making everything seem a little more golden, like the place was painted by an artist obsessed with warm tones. Your body feels heavy, but relaxed, your mind floating between dream and reality, the memory of last night still buzzing in your muscles, your skin, in the scent of Nana that seems to have fused with the air.

You barely move, and you can already feel it. She’s there. Pressed up against you. Skin on skin. Your naked bodies intertwined in a way that makes it seem like you’ve always known how to fit together, like you’re not strangers, like this isn’t the first time. And then, without warning, you feel her lips. First, a soft kiss on your chest, like she’s exploring the territory again, testing the waters. Then, the kiss travels up to your neck, and suddenly, her lips are on yours, warm and hungry. She doesn’t need to say anything. The way she kisses you says it all.

You finally open your eyes, your body starting to wake up, though you’re already fully awake where it matters. “Nana, you need to stop,” you joke, your voice raspy, trying to sound more relaxed than you really are. “You’re going to get me obsessed with you. And later, I’ll remember this and want more.”

She laughs, her lips still on yours, a quiet giggle that you feel vibrate against your mouth. “Who said we’re done here?” she whispers, gently tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth before letting it go. “Maybe I’m just getting started.”

“So, you want to see me again?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious, testing the waters.

She raises an eyebrow, like the question is ridiculous. “After a night like that? Of course I want to see you again. Many times, actually.” She bites her lip, her gaze a little challenging, like she’s already planning something, and you know she is. She always is.

Without warning, Nana reaches for her phone on the bedside table. She unlocks it and smiles, a mischievous smile. She opens the camera and points it at you both. “Let’s capture this moment.”

You frown, still half-asleep, half-disbelieving. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am.” She says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “A night like this deserves a keepsake, don’t you think?” She doesn’t wait for your answer. Her finger is already on the button, ready to take the picture.

The idea feels strange, but you go with it. You snuggle up to her, both of you smiling for the camera, like it’s something you do all the time. She snaps the photo, the two of you grinning, with no pretense. Just warm skin, relaxed bodies. Then, she takes another. This time, you tilt your head and kiss Nana, the sensation more vivid, with a clarity that comes with daylight, when everything feels more real, less driven by the adrenaline of the moment.

When the camera’s click finally falls silent, she tosses the phone aside and leans back against you, eyes closed, body relaxed. “This is going to be a good memory,” she murmurs, and there’s something in her voice that makes you believe her.

She shifts, the sheet slipping slightly, and you feel the warmth of her skin against yours. Nana settles more into you, a slow, almost deliberate movement. She lets out a quiet laugh, more breath than sound, and you feel her smile against your neck.

“I can feel it,” she says, her voice warmer now, closer to a whisper. “You’re already hard for me.” And then, as if to prove her point, she adjusts her body again, rubbing against you like she’s discovered a new toy and can’t resist.

You sigh, half pleasure, half yearning. “Yeah, I’m horny,” you admit, no beating around the bush. There’s something about the way she’s pressed against you, the smell of her hair mingling with the room’s air, that erases any notion of self-control.

“Good,” she says, as if that’s exactly what she was waiting for. “How about a nice blowjob to start the day?”

You already know the answer, but you stay silent for a second, your mind processing the almost ridiculous simplicity of the proposal, the casual way she talks about it, like she’s asking what you want for breakfast. It’s something you love about this now not-so-strange girl. So finally, you open your mouth. “Yes, please.”

She giggles, the kind of giggle that’s full of mischief, of pure fun. She leans over you, her hand trailing down your stomach to your cock, her fingers cool against your warm skin. “I knew you’d say that,” she murmurs, almost to herself, as she starts to move slowly down your body, like she’s studying your every reaction.

Nana crawls down to your hips, her movements slow, lazy, like she has all the time in the world, and then lowers her head. Her lips touch the tip of your cock first, a kiss almost chaste, before she opens her mouth and takes you in.

—

The sun is already up, it's around nine in the morning. You're in the car next to Nana after a night that felt like it came straight out of a dirty and perfect dream. The motel is left behind like a distant memory, a blur of neon and crumpled sheets. Now, you're parked in front of your house, and reality is there, knocking at the door.

Breakfast helped you get your energy back. You had to insist on paying. It was the least you could do. Nana didn’t want to accept it, but at some point, she got tired of arguing. Though, you know she doesn't really care about that kind of thing. She doesn’t seem like someone who worries about small formalities. But for you, paying for breakfast was your way of thanking her for more than just the night. It was for a temporary collapse of everything you knew.

She leans against the steering wheel, her slender fingers drumming on it. "We’ll talk on Insta, I’ll send you the photos there too," she says, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

You smile, still a bit dazed, your muscles tired from all the pleasure and exhaustion. "That’d be great." You smile, not sure what to say in these final minutes. "I really enjoyed meeting you, Nana. I mean that."

She turns to you. “I liked meeting you too, you’re a nice guy.”

The words come out with the casualness of someone who's been through this before, but with a sincerity that makes you believe that, even if it’s fleeting, it was special in some way.

You watch her, her profile illuminated by the morning light, and realize how something so simple, a chance encounter, can turn your day, your week, maybe even your life, upside down if you let it.

"Happy birthday again," you say, your hand already on the door handle.

"Thanks," she replies. “I hope the rest of my day is as interesting as it’s been so far.”

You laugh, unsure if she's being serious or joking. But then, just before getting out of the car, something pulls you back, a final question you have to ask. "But... what now, Nana? What do we do?"

She looks at you with that smile, the one you’ve already learned to associate with the unpredictable. "Now?" She pauses, starting the car, her eyes focused on the road. "Now, we just jump to the next night and see what we find."

Of course. You knew she’d say something like that. You nod, a smile forming on your face, because there’s nothing more to say. You step out of the car, feeling different somehow, even though everything around you looks exactly the same as before.

Nana waves slightly, and you stand there, watching the car disappear around the corner, knowing that last night was just one among many that could happen.

717 notes · View notes

remlionheart · 7 months ago

Text

Anonymous asked:

PLZZZZ i beg you smoking sesh w megumi

♡‧₊˚ ask and you shall receive ✩࿐࿔ it's been a while since i've done a meg drabble and out of all of the different drugs we've explored on this page, this just made me realize that i've never written about weed lol so thank u for the suggestion this was really fun to write <333 home from college au. heavy we-shouldn't-be-doing-this trope. aged up characters. fem!reader x ((the peoples’ husband)), *⟡toxic!megumi*⟡ 3.2k words. porn with a plot. angst. degradation and praise. stoned sex. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ‎‎♡‧₊˚

❀ MDNI ❀

keep me h i g h ₊⊹

now playing: wet dreams ☾��˚

⊹₊ ⋆✿

It'd been four months since the last time you'd seen Megumi.

Between college and the city lines that separated you, the two of you had cut almost every tie that once kept you connected. It was strange to think about sometimes - how quickly you'd gone from being the person he spent almost every weekend with to being nothing more than a fly on the wall of his social media, occasionally liking his posts but never getting anything back in return.

You tried to remind yourself that it shouldn't have been a surprise. Your relationship with him had never been easy. All throughout high-school you'd fallen into the same pattern of push and pull with him, his feelings everchanging and impossible to keep up with.

He'd kiss you in private and ignore you in public. Tell you that you were just friends and sneak through your window on the nights he didn't want to be alone. Run his hand along your back until you had fallen asleep and leave without so much as a "goodbye".

As painful as it was, a part of you had almost been relieved when things finally ended. No more pushing, no more pulling - just you and the new town you'd moved to. You and the new friends you'd made. You and your new fresh start. You still wanted the best for him despite everything, but you also wanted the best for yourself too. And deep down, you knew that didn't involve drunken hook-ups and empty words.

You hummed as you stepped out of the shower, the smell of coconut shampoo and lavender body wash dancing around you. It was unexpectedly comforting to be back home, even if it was only for a few days. Your roommates had tried to talk you out of coming back to Tokyo for fall break, but you knew you couldn't do that to your parents. You were certain there would be another time for going out and Halloween house parties.

Your room was still exactly the same as you'd left it - a mess of purple blankets on your bed and off white string-lights decorating the walls. Clothes that you'd left behind still hanging in your closet along with a stack of old journals. Tarot cards and candles and framed pictures of you and your friends sitting atop your dresser. It was nice to know that it still felt like your safe haven despite months of not seeing it.

You continued humming the same song that you'd started in the shower as you slipped on a baby-blue tank top, pairing it with your favorite silk pajama shorts. You lit a couple of candles and cracked the window open, letting crisp October air swirl through your room before turning off the overhead light and crawling into bed.

A cozy sense of nostalgia crept over you as you nestled into your bed and pulled out your phone.

Just like when you lived here, you were the only one still up after a movie had put both of your parents to sleep. You were mid-scroll, debating on what Youtube rabbit hole you wanted to go down for the night when a text popped up that immediately put you in an upright position again.

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You called him as soon as his last text came through, but he sent you straight to voicemail. "fushiguro," you texted frantically, "seriously", "you can't do this".

You were out of bed and on your feet before you even knew what you were doing, rushing to lock your door as you quickly realized that there was no such thing as reasoning with him.

Your life had changed in an assortment of ways since you'd left and judging by the way he texted you, he had to know that too. The last picture you posted before coming back was of you and a boy that you'd been seeing for the last month. It was mostly casual, neither one of you quite ready to put a label on what you were doing, but it still made your stomach flutter thinking about seeing Megumi when you were actively sleeping with someone else.

You dialed his number again, only to immediately hang up. Your heart suddenly lodged in your throat when you noticed that you could hear the call ringing from both inside and outside of your room.

You watched his slender fingers loop under the base of your already cracked window, stealthily pushing it up like he'd done so many times before. A sea of memories flooded over you as he pulled himself up, swiftly swooping both of his legs into your room before projecting the rest of his body forward and landing perfectly in place, hardly make a sound.

The low glow of your string-lights grazed his face, the prettiest shade of blue meeting your stare while the two of you took a moment to study the person in front of you.

"Your parents really need to invest in a better security system."

You hated the laugh that escaped you. The slight smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth. The way your blood still danced in your veins at just the sight of him.

So much had changed in the last four months and yet, here you both were.

"Surely you didn't come all the way over here just to critique our home safety." You whispered.

"Seems like someone should." He countered, following behind you as you took a seat on the side of the bed.

He fished a joint and a lighter out of the front pocket of his jacket before tossing it onto the floor, leaving him in a black v-neck that accentuated his arms. He'd always been toned, but it was obvious that he'd been training a lot harder since you left - his shoulders and chest noticeably more defined than the last time you'd seen him. You'd never say it aloud given their relationship, but the older he got the more and more he seemed to resemble his dad.

"Bring your fan over here." He said, breaking your train of thought.

You nodded, staying light on your feet as you brought it over and aimed it at the window before reaching into the back of your dresser to grab an ashtray that you'd had stashed away since sophomore year. It was like no time had passed at all as you took a seat next to him again, setting the ashtray on your nightstand while he twirled the joint between his fingers.

You weren't sure why, but there was something about the way he brought it to his lips and flicked his lighter that created a dull ache at your center. Everything about him was so pretty and so nonchalant, effortlessly detached and infuriatingly nice to look at.

"Does your new boyfriend smoke?"

Your eyes instantly snapped to his, watching a plume of smoke trail felicitously from his mouth as he looked back at you. "Doesn't really look like the type who would." He added with a slight raise of his brow.

You didn't like anything about the question - from that fact that he had the audacity to ask it to his lethargic tone to the emphasis on the word "new", as if he was trying to imply that you'd been dating someone before you left.

You clicked your tongue to your cheek, letting out a huff as you snatched the joint from his lips. "You're insufferable." You repeated, drawing in a deep inhale.

The truth was, the boy you'd been seeing didn't smoke pot and you hadn't either since you'd started college, but there was no way you were admitting that to him. You took another hit, keeping your attention fixated on the window as your fan circulated the smoke out and pushed it into the night sky.

"I'll take that as a no." He whispered, his leg lightly nudging yours as he leaned over and plucked the joint from your fingers this time.

"Why are you here?" You finally asked, a sharp edge growing in your voice. "You were the one that quit talking to me, you know that right? You didn't even bother saying goodbye and then you just show up unannounced like nothing happened and ask me about my life and who I'm seeing and..." The weed was starting to hit you, your body suddenly heavy and your mind dizzy with a confusing mix of intoxication and irritation. "I just... Why? I mean, what's the point of any of this?"

A rare somber expression took over, softening his usual concrete features as he ran a hand over the back of his neck.

“Honestly, I don't know..." His gaze was glossy, his mind equally as hazy as yours. "I didn't know what to say when you left so I didn't say anything. It seemed easier that way, for both of us."

"But it wasn't –"

"I know." His demeanor was unexpectedly gentle despite how firm his tone was. "I'm sorry."

The room felt like it was spinning, his apology making something inside you ache. It was the first time in the three years you'd known him that he'd ever said it. That he'd ever actually admitted or acknowledged to hurting your feelings and even if the bar was in literal hell, it still felt good to hear those words finally leave his mouth.

"What else?" You pressed.

He took a moment to look you over, his eyes tentatively roaming along your face. “I missed you." He said honestly.

You'd never met anyone besides him who was capable of sounding so sincere and so indifferent at the same time.

"Missed your stupid laugh. Missed the way you'd always call me when you were drunk." He leaned in closer, his hand carefully taking the joint from yours as he set it on the ashtray and rested his palm on the back of your neck.

"Missed being in your room like this..." His voice dropped down to a low whisper, fanning lecherously across your skin. “Missed the feeling of you wrapped around me…”

“Megumi… we can’t…”

But you still let him close the already small gap between you anyway, his lips ghosting yours as you breathed him in. The familiar scent of false promises and expensive cologne flooding your senses.

"I know you.” He said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You wouldn’t have texted me back if you didn’t want to.”

"I –" His words were going straight to your center, the dull ache from earlier blossoming into an unignorable throb as his hand gradually trailed up your thigh. "I didn't –"

"Wouldn’t have posted that you were back in town if you didn’t want me to know…" His fingers were toying with the fabric of your shorts, methodically pushing them to the side. "Wouldn’t have left your window open if you wanted to be alone…”

Your ability to hold yourself together was threatening to buckle at any moment between the feeling of his grip tangling into your hair and his lips continuing to tortuously graze yours.

“And you definitely wouldn’t be this fucking wet if you really didn’t want me here…”

Your heart was slamming into your chest so hard you were almost afraid he'd hear it.

He kept his eyes locked with yours, watching the last bit of composure you had vanish entirely as he slipped past the thin barrier of your underwear and gained access to your weakest point.

Your movements betrayed your sentiment, a helpless whimper escaping you while your hips gravitated up towards his hand, practically begging for more.

"Look at you," he breathed, his middle finger drawing soft, heavenly circles between your thighs. "All that time without seeing each other and you still fall apart for me so easily. Why is that?"

Another heady little noise entered into the small space between you as you fought to keep your moans from getting any louder. You hadn't been this high in months. Your insides felt like they were on fire as he dipped down, just barely prodding at your entrance. But the more you tried to get from him, the more he pulled away. Unwilling to comply with your body's demands until you answered his question.

"Tell me." It was venom mixed with honey. Torment mixed with pleasure. He had you right where he wanted you - desperate and pining. Forced to give him what he wanted in exchange for what you needed. "Let me hear you fucking say it."

You grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, doing everything you could not to whine when the tip of his finger gently slid into you and then stopped without warning - gracing you with just enough to finally bring you to your breaking point.

"I wanted to see you." you said breathlessly, your pupils widening as you felt him push slightly deeper.

"What else?" He taunted, using your words against you.

"I wanted you – here." You yelped, your voice splitting as he sank in further.

You were delirious, ready to actually plead if that's what it took to get him to cave. "I want – fuck, Megumi, please just –"

He was half-way in, teetering on the verge of letting you have it as long as you could get the next sentence out.

"Say it."

"I want you inside me." It poured out so fast, it was barely even coherent. "I want you inside of m...e – so fu–cking bad, please."

Your chest pressed against his in an urgent daze, pulling him closer while his lips met yours - neither one of you able to withstand the tension for a second longer. His movements matched your fervency as he added another finger, finally letting your walls swallow him.

He deepened the kiss, trying his best to keep you quiet while your hips rocked rhythmically against him.

"So pretty and pitiful" he whispered, lightly nipping at your collarbone. "You're already almost there. You sure you can handle me being inside you?"

You nodded hopelessly back at him.

"I can... take – it." You struggled, feeling him smirk into your neck as his thumb brushed against your clit, drawing out even poutier noises from you. "Promise."

"Prove it."

His tongue swirled lavishly into the softness of your clavicle, leaving little bruises in the shape of his mouth while his fingers continued to plunge innnn and out of you at the same heavenly pace.

"There you go." He breathed, promptly returning his lips back to yours as he felt your thighs begin to shake. "Just like that, don't fucking stop."

You hated how well he knew you. Hated how easily he was able make you clench and spasm around him. You were soaking his hand, burying your face into his shoulder to stop yourself from waking up the entire house.

"Oh, my fucking... god, Megumi –" Your nails dug into his back, your body nearly vibrating with pleasure as you grinded against him.

“It's okay, I've got you." He whispered, letting you cling onto him as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. You'd always been submissive, but he wasn't sure that he'd ever seen you quite this needy before.

He slowly pulled out of you, guiding you down to the bed before standing up to grab the joint out of the ashtray, lighting it one last time.

He leaned down, locking eyes with you while gently cupping your face. His lips just barely touching yours so that you were forced to share the same breath, allowing you to inhale the smoke he exhaled as he helped you out of your shorts.

"Such a good girl."

Your back arched, immediately wanting him back where he was as he got to his feet and set the spliff on your nightstand. You watched him intently, your core throbbing while he began to unbutton his pants. You were blissfully high, your mind swirling with sleepy infatuation and pent-up lust.

He almost seeming amused, noticing how entranced you were as his stripped out of his boxers. Tauntingly stroking himself while he used his free hand to push your both of your thighs onto the mattress so that you were on your back facing him with your legs folded to the side. You couldn’t help but smile as he rubbed his tip between your folds, letting out a low groan as he wetted himself with your slick.

“Fuck, I forgot how good you feel.”

Your hand tangled into the sheets, your body reeling from the way his tip was already stretching you.

"You gotta stay quiet for me." He reminded you, trying to heed his own advice as he slid in slightly further. “Pretty sure your dad will actually kill me if he catches me here again."

"So you want me to scream?" You smirked, but your sarcasm was quickly stolen from you.

He cocked an eyebrow at you before leaning back down, his voice becoming salacious static against your ear. "Don't make threats you can't keep."

Your breath hitched in your throat, your cunt pulsating as he put a hand over your mouth and thrusted into you.

He returned your smirk. Watching your pupils double in size as he nipped at your neck, muffling your moans with his palm.

"It's not easy for me either." He whispered - one hand still on your mouth, the other reaching for your center. "Being this deep in you and not being able to hear you say my name."

Your knuckles were almost white from how hard you were gripping the bed, your mind and body both completely overwhelmed by fucked-out euphoria.

"To have you wrapped this nice and tight around my cock without getting to hear all the cute little noises you make for me." He slammed into you, his rhythm blissfully unforgiving.

"You think that's what I want?"

You shook your head, his hand catching more carnal whimpers that were trying so hard to spill out of you as your hips bucked up against his.

The feeling of him playing with your clit while having you folded like this was almost too much to handle. You were lost - floating somewhere above cloud 9 with his thrusts only ascending you higher.

"What do you think I want to hear, baby? Hm?" His tone was condescendingly sweet. Mocking in a way that made your heart stutter and your walls contract. "Tell me."

He loosened his grasp on you, nearly bottoming out as his name echoed uncontrollably across the room. "Megumi ~” You whined again, completely forgetting your surroundings. "Megumi, fuck, you're gonna make me –"

Your climax laced through his fingers as his hand swiftly flew back over your mouth. His arms keeping you locked in place while your body writhed beneath his.

“There it is”, He praised, his tip kissing your cervix at just the right angle. “There’s my fucking – girl.” His head lolled back, his release following right behind yours.

He buried his head into your shoulder this time, letting out the most gorgeous, guttural sounds you'd ever heard as he filled you - not stopping until he could see his cum dripping out of you.

He pulled out carefully, taking a moment to admire his work while a mixture of fluids leaked onto your comforter.

“Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair before looking back at you. "Do me a favor when you get back."

You were still catching your breath, dizzy from overstimulation as you met his gaze. "What do you need?” You panted.

"Tell your new boyfriend I said 'thanks'."

You narrowed your eyes at him, watching a stupid smirk cut across his face while he slid his pants back on. “If he would've known how to fuck you right, I might not have gotten the chance to see you."

"You're insufferable."

"So I’ve been told."

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#rem writes #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #jjk au #jjk smau #jjk fanfic #megumi fanfic #megumi smau #megumi angst #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #toxic!megumi #jujutsu kaisen smut

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heliosunny · 1 month ago

Note

I'm literally praying for more Yandere Mash 🙏🙏 ALSO UR WRITING IS SO AMAZING

NO TAKEBACKS

Yandere!Mash x Reader

Magic lights sparkled in the air, laughter and cheers echoed through the grand halls of Easton Magic Academy. Everyone was celebrating the victory—the defeat of Innocent Zero, the peace that had finally settled over their world. Among them, you were just another student, a face in the crowd enjoying the atmosphere.

You weren’t part of Mash Burnedead’s close-knit friend group, but you’d seen him around. He was the so-called "hero," the one who defied everything and saved everyone. But right now, you weren’t thinking about that. You just wanted some air.

Unfortunately, your attempt to sneak onto the balcony for some peace didn’t go as planned. A misstep, and suddenly, you were plummeting from the second floor.

Your heart leaped to your throat. You barely had time to brace yourself when strong arms caught you effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Careful.”

You looked up to see Mash Burnedead staring at you.

“I—oh my god—thank you.” you stammered, your hands gripping his arms instinctively.

Mash didn’t let go right away. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he gently set you on your feet. “You’re welcome.”

You dusted yourself off, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. Mash, meanwhile, was already turning away, sneaking toward the exit.

“You’re leaving?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah.”

For some reason, you found yourself following him. “Mind if I join you for a bit?”

Mash glanced at you, then nodded. And so, you walked together, the sounds of the party fading behind you.

For someone everyone called a hero, Mash was… surprisingly normal. He wasn’t arrogant or overly serious. He just liked cream puffs, quiet places, and working out. You found yourself laughing at his dry humor, at how he casually talked about things like muscles being the answer to everything.

“Mash! There you are!”

You turned to see his friends approaching—Lance, Dot, Finn, and Lemon. Their eyes flickered between the two of you, curious.

You took that as your cue. “Well, I should get back to my friends. Thanks again.”

“See you.”

That night had been a strange one, but after the party, you didn’t see much of Mash Burnedead. Not in any meaningful way, at least.

Of course, you’d catch glimpses—him standing at a distance when you passed by, his eyes tracking your movements with that same unreadable stare. A few times, he made small attempts to approach you, casual and unassuming. A greeting in the hallway, a question about class, a quiet offer of a cream puff when he happened to have extra.

But more often than not, your friends would pull you away before you could respond.

“You shouldn’t talk to him” they’d say. “Just because he saved us all doesn’t mean he belongs here.”

It was an ugly truth, but magic ruled this world. And Mash, for all his strength and miracles, had none. Some people tolerated him now, respected him even. But others—like your friends—still clung to old beliefs.

“He’s a fraud.” one of them muttered one day when they caught him watching from across the courtyard.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to think.

----

The usual chatter of students filled the academy halls, but something felt off. A tension in the air, an unspoken weight pressing down. You didn’t think much of it—until you turned a corner and saw them.

Your friends. And Mash.

They had pulled him aside in a secluded part of the courtyard, away from wandering eyes. Mash stood there, expression blank, as your so-called friends spoke in hushed but sharp tones.

“You don’t belong here, Burnedead” one of them sneered. “You’ve already gotten what you wanted, right? Your fake title, your praise. So why are you still hanging around?”

Another one scoffed. “Do you really think people see you as an equal? You’re a joke.”

Mash didn’t react. Not a twitch, not a flinch. He just stood there, completely unbothered.

But you heard everything. And something inside you snapped.

“What the hell are you doing?” you said, stepping between them.

Your friends stiffened in surprise. “We’re just talking” one of them said, forcing a smile. “You should—”

“No. I don’t want to hear it.” You turned to Mash, your voice softening. “Are you okay?”

Mash blinked at you. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“See?” One of your friends laughed nervously. “No harm done. It’s just—”

“I don’t care.”

They fell silent. You inhaled deeply, steadying yourself, before looking at them dead in the eyes.

“If being your friend means treating someone like this, then I’m fine with not playing with you.”

They looked at you, then at Mash, then back at you. And then, without another word, they turned and walked away.

You didn’t watch them leave. Instead, you turned back to Mash, expecting him to brush it off like he always did. Instead, he just… stared at you.

“Uh… I hope that wasn’t weird or anything.”

“No,” he said, “It wasn’t weird.”

Your so-called friends never spoke to you again after that day.

At first, it was just cold silence—no greetings, no eye contact, no acknowledgment of your existence. You were fine with that. You had already made your choice.

But then, the petty revenge started.

A tripping spell aimed at your feet in the hallway. A bucket of water “accidentally” tipping over just as you passed by. An entire swarm of frogs conjured into your locker.

You should have been miserable. You should have been soaked, humiliated, struggling to shake off the cruel tricks.

But none of them ever reached you.

Somehow, every single attempt failed.

You never noticed it at first. You’d walk through a hallway where a trip spell had been cast, only to feel the floor perfectly stable beneath your feet. You’d open your locker, expecting books, not frogs. And yet, there was nothing but your usual neatly stacked belongings.

It wasn’t until one day, when you heard a frustrated shout from down the hall, that you saw it.

Mash. Standing calmly with a bucket of water in one hand, completely untouched by the spell that was meant for you. He tilted his head, looking at the group of students who had set the trap, then—without a word—dumped the water over their heads instead.

Your ex-friends went pale. You had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

It wasn’t long before the pettiness turned into something uglier.

A real fight.

You weren’t there to see it, but you heard the aftermath. How they had cornered Mash, trying to force him to stop interfering. How they had thrown everything they had at him—spells, illusions, underhanded tricks.

How he had barely even tried and still crushed them.

It wasn’t a long battle.

Mash simply stood there, taking every attack like they were nothing, before stepping forward and ending it with a single punch.

They never bothered you again after that.

And when you finally caught up with Mash later that day, he just handed you a cream puff, completely unfazed, like nothing had ever happened.

“Here,” he said. “You didn’t get to eat lunch.”

“Mash… did you...”

He tilted his head. “Did I what?”

You sighed, taking the cream puff. “Never mind. Thanks, Mash.”

“Anytime.”

---

It was surreal.

Rayne Ames—the Rayne Ames—stood before you, his sharp golden eyes watching you with that cool, unreadable expression. He had approached you out of nowhere, asking about Mash. Simple questions, nothing out of the ordinary. How was he in class? Did he ever talk about his training? Did he seem different lately?

You answered as best as you could, unsure why he was asking, and once he got what he needed, he left just as quickly as he came.

And that was that.

But after that day, your life started changing.

With your old friends out of the picture, you knew you had to move on. Mash’s group was welcoming, always ready to include you in their chaotic fun. But still, they had each other. They were a solid unit, bound by deep friendship and battles you hadn’t been a part of. You were an outsider, someone they liked but didn’t necessarily need.

So, you drifted. Talked to other students. Tried to find your own place.

And somehow… Rayne Ames kept showing up.

It was never anything dramatic. He didn’t actively seek you out, but he always seemed to be there—watching, listening, stepping in when things got too chaotic. You assumed he was just keeping tabs on Mash.

And Mash did not like that.

You didn’t notice it at first, but his little habits started changing. The way he always hovered a little closer when Rayne was around. The way he interrupted conversations with his usual deadpan nonsense—offering you cream puffs, randomly commenting on Rayne’s hair, or straight-up picking you up and carrying you somewhere else without a word.

Rayne, of course, remained unfazed by all of it. If anything, he found it amusing.

----

You had been experimenting with baking lately, and since Mash always seemed to appreciate sweet things, you figured, why not? A simple, homemade cake as a small thank-you for everything.

On your way to find him, you ran into Lemon, who, upon seeing the cake in your hands, lit up with excitement.

“Oh! If you’re looking for Mash, I can take you to his place!” she offered cheerfully.

You hesitated for a moment—going to Mash’s house wasn’t exactly part of the plan—but Lemon was already leading the way, and before you knew it, you were standing at his doorstep.

The door was unlocked, so Lemon let herself in, calling out, “Mash! You have a visitor!”

You barely had time to process what was happening before you heard the sound of weights clanking. As you stepped inside, your eyes landed on him.

Mash Burnedead, mid-workout, lifting what had to be insanely heavy dumbbells as if they were nothing.

You had always known Mash was strong. You’d seen him punch through walls like they were made of paper, carry people as if they weighed nothing.

But seeing him like this, up close—it was different.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that you were staring.

Mash set the weights down before turning to you. “Oh. You came.”

You quickly held up the cake. “I, uh—yeah! I baked this and thought you might like some.”

“Thanks.”

You didn’t stay long after that. You made an excuse to leave early, not missing how Mash watched you the entire time you walked out the door.

The next day, you didn’t show up to school.

At first, no one thought much of it. But by midday, whispers started. Even Rayne seemed mildly concerned, casually asking if anyone knew where you were.

But Mash knew something was wrong.

Because when he woke up that morning, the first thing he did was check his front porch—where he had left the empty cake box after finishing the last slice.

It was gone.

Someone had taken it.

And now, you were missing.

Where were you?

The world was spinning. Your body ached, your skin burned, and every breath you took sent sharp pains through your ribs.

It hadn’t been a fair fight—far from it.

Your old "friends" hadn’t come after you themselves, no. They were too cowardly for that. Instead, they had hired someone else—someone stronger, someone ruthless—to make sure you stayed down.

And they had done their job well.

You barely remembered how it ended. All you knew was that your body couldn't take any more, and at some point, you had collapsed against a wall, waiting for the pain to swallow you whole.

You barely registered the faint sound of bones breaking or the low, terrifyingly calm voice that followed.

"You shouldn't have touched them."

The first thing you feel is warmth. Next is the soft pressure of bandages wrapped around your arms, your ribs. Someone had taken care of you.

Your eyes flutter open slowly, adjusting to the lighting of the unfamiliar room. Your head feels heavy, and for a brief moment, your mind is blank. Someone was sitting next to you.

You try to speak, but your throat is dry. He notices. Before you can even think, he’s already reaching for a glass of water, pressing it into your hands.

“…Mash?” your voice is hoarse. “…What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

You shake your head, wincing at the dull pain. Your memories are foggy—blurry figures, flashes of magic, a crushing sense of helplessness. But beyond that? Nothing.

Mash watches you carefully, his fingers tapping idly against his arm.

"You got hurt. I handled it."

You’re too tired to question it. Instead, you focus on something else.

“…Where am I?”

Mash tilts his head slightly. “My house.”

You glance down at yourself—the fresh bandages, the blanket draped over you.

"You took care of me?"

He nodded.

A thought crosses your mind, something nagging at the edges of your blank memories. Something important.

You look at him, hesitating. "…Mash. What are we?"

“We’re together.”

“…What?”

“I’m your boyfriend” he says, like it’s the simplest truth in the world.

And somehow, even though your memories are gone—

You believe him.

Lemon sobbed the moment she found out.

You didn’t get it.

Why was she crying so much? Weren’t you and Mash always like this? Weren’t things normal?

She clung to your hands, wailing about how “true love prevails” and “you’re finally safe” while Finn awkwardly patted her back, clearly unsure how to handle the situation.

No one in the group pushed further.

You weren’t sure if it was because of your injuries or something else, but he barely let you out of his sight. If you walked, he was right beside you. If you sat down, he positioned himself strategically—either next to you or across from you, always watching, always ready.

You were just about to take a bite when Mash suddenly—without a word—took the food right out of your hands.

He inspected it. Took a bite. Chewed.

“…Too sweet.”

Then, he grabbed another piece from your tray. Ate that too.

“…Too spicy.”

Then another.

“…Too bitter.”

By the time he was done testing everything, you were left staring at your now-half-empty plate, completely baffled.

“Mash,” you deadpanned. “You ate most of my lunch.”

He blinked at you. “I was making sure it was okay.”

“…You didn’t have to eat all of it.”

“…I’ll get you more.”

And then, without hesitation, he stood up and walked off—probably to find something “safer” for you to eat.

You sighed, rubbing your temples as Lemon giggled beside you. “He’s so attentive!” she swooned. “Taking care of his beloved like a true gentleman!”

You weren’t sure about that, but you didn’t argue.

You thought Mash being overly cautious was limited to food.

You were wrong.

While walking through campus, Mash suddenly spawned over, his muscles tensing as he stared at something in the distance.

Then—without warning—he picked up a rock and chucked it.

The entire group turned, just in time to see a now flattened stone that had been in your path.

Mash nodded to himself, satisfied, before continuing to walk like nothing happened.

“…Mash,” you finally said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.”

“…It was just a rock.”

“It was in your way.”

Lemon whispered, “He’s so in love.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that.

----

You weren’t content with just not knowing.

There were gaps in your mind, blank spaces where memories should be. And it wasn’t just frustrating—it was unnerving. Every time you tried to grasp at the edges of something important, it slipped through your fingers like sand.

So, you did what any rational person would do.

You started digging.

Asking around. Looking through old notes, trying to see if anything sparked recognition.

But for some reason—every single time you got close—Mash was there.

Sometimes, he’d distract you—offering you more sweets, pulling you into his usual nonsense, finding ways to keep you occupied. Other times, it was more direct.

Like the time he just… picked you up and walked away when you asked Lemon too many questions.

Or the time you almost found your old diary, only for it to mysteriously vanish.

And then, there was the worst one—

You had been talking to Rayne.

It was a casual conversation at first, but then, you asked.

“Do you know what happened to me before I lost my memory?”

Rayne had gone silent. His gaze flickered over your shoulder, and when you turned—

Mash was already there.

“…Come on” he said, voice as steady as ever. “You need to eat.”

Rayne didn’t say anything, only watching as Mash practically dragged you away.

---

Finn wasn’t expecting to walk into this.

It was a normal day—nothing out of the ordinary. But when he turned the corner, he saw Mash standing there, gripping the edge of a table so tightly it looked like he might break it.

“Uh. Mash?”

Mash didn’t respond.

Finn frowned, stepping closer. “Mash, what’s wrong?”

No response, just that stupid blank stare, but there was something off about it. Something shaking beneath the surface.

Finn had known Mash for a while now.

Whatever it was—

It had to do with you.

So, he sighed, scratching the back of his head before offering a small, reassuring smile.

“Whatever’s going on” he said, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Mash finally moved—his grip loosening just slightly. He looked at Finn.

“You’re Mash Burnedead. You don’t lose, right?”

A long pause.

Then, finally—Mash nodded.

-----

Dot was hiding.

It was rare to see him so quiet, so serious. But today, he was focused.

A thick branch in his hands, his grip tight. He crouched near the hallway, waiting—watching.

Then, the moment you walked by—he swung the thing to your head.

Or at least, that was the plan.

Because before the branch could even come close to hitting you, a strong hand caught it mid-air.

You turned just in time to see the silent battle of wills taking place.

“…Mash?” You tilted your head. “Dot?”

Neither answered.

Mash’s grip on the branch tightened, cracking the wood slightly. Dot gulped. Sensing that things were about to get messy, you quickly grabbed Mash’s sleeve and pulled him away.

The moment you turned the corner toward the classroom—

You tripped.

Your foot slipped against the wet floor, your balance completely thrown off. You hit the ground hard. The world blurred for a moment, your vision swimming in and out of focus. Voices echoed distantly, panicked, but you couldn’t make out the words.

Everything faded.

You woke up later on, trying to piece together what had happened. But the moment you tried to think back—

Nothing.

Just an empty, hollow void where your memories should be.

You frowned, struggling to sit up. Around you, the group stood in silence—Lance, Dot, Finn, Lemon, and even Rayne to your surprise.

Before you could even question it, the door suddenly slammed open.

He grabbed Dot, then Lance, then Finn, shoving them forward.

“Outside”

Lemon and Rayne exchanged glances but didn’t intervene.

“…What just happened?”

Lemon sighed, shaking her head.

Everything was normal.

Or at least, it was supposed to be.

You went about your day, chatting with Rayne, ignoring the lingering stares from the group. They didn’t say anything about yesterday, didn’t mention the fight Mash had with them outside.

You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

But then—

Mash said something.

It wasn’t even anything big. Just an offhand comment, a simple remark about something only your past self would remember.

Your memories came flooding back out of nowhere.

It hit like a whiplash. Images, emotions, voices all crashing into you at once. The truth you had lost—the reason you had forgotten.

You didn’t even know why you were mad.

But you were.

It wasn’t like he hurt you. It wasn’t like he lied outright.

But he had kept it from you. Had stopped you every step of the way. Had taken advantage of your missing memories just to keep you his.

And right now?

You didn’t want to see him.

Didn’t want to talk to him.

Didn’t want to even look at him.

----

Mash wasn’t good with words.

But he was good at trying.

His first attempt? A written apology.

While you were in class, he stood outside the window, holding up a piece of paper with the words: "I’m sorry."

It would’ve been somewhat effective if he hadn’t written it on a tiny piece of paper that was hard to read from a distance.

Rayne, sitting beside you- just because you asked him to and surely you'll pay him with something else, glanced at it, then at you.

“…Are you really going to let him stand there looking like that?”

You didn’t answer.

The second attempt? Rock arrangements.

You walked outside to find a series of carefully placed stones, spelling out: "I messed up."

Then, underneath it, in slightly smaller rocks: "I’ll fix it."

You huffed, crossing your arms.

Rayne just sighed beside you. “At least he’s consistent.”

And finally—his third attempt?

It was just him.

From afar.

Because you wouldn’t let him near you. Wouldn’t let him explain, wouldn’t let him talk his way back in.

So, instead, he stayed back. Watching.

You weren’t expecting anything strange to happen that night.

You were at home, settling in, finally getting some peace after everything. The last thing you expected was to turn around and—

Mash was inside your house.

You barely held in a scream. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest.

“What the hell—?!” You gasped, stumbling back. “How did you—?”

“I walked in.”

“What do you mean you walked in?!”

“The door was locked, so I broke it.”

You rubbed your temples, inhaling sharply. “Mash, you can’t just—sneak into someone’s house like this.”

“I came to apologize.”

“You—” You sighed, exasperated. “That’s not how apologies work.”

“…Fine” he said. “If you won’t forgive me, then I’ll handle your old friends for causing the accident.”

“And then,” Mash continued, “I’ll leave school.”

He said it so simply. Like it was a decision he had already made.

You didn’t want that.

Not because you weren’t still mad. Not because he didn’t deserve to apologize properly.

But because you knew him.

You knew exactly what he was capable of when he was serious.

“…Mash” you said “you don’t have to do that.”

“But they hurt you.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “but you don’t have to fix everything on your own.”

“All you had to do was ask” you muttered, sighing. “Not—decide what our relationship is without asking me first.”

“…I’m sorry.”

You let out a slow breath. “Alright. Guess I shouldn't be mad at you anymore.”

And just like that, the tension eased.

But what you didn’t know—

Was that Mash had already handled your old friends.

Before coming here.

By the time you had started to forgive him, by the time you had calmed down—

There was no one left to hurt you again.

#yandere x reader #yandere #mash burnedead #mash x reader #mashle

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midnightsmusings · 3 months ago

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Hard to get rid of Ghost x Soap who's into his LT's girl in every universe anybody?

Simon who didn't think much when you broke up with him, just sighed because it was right as he got sent on a mission.

Simon who told you he had to go but that he'd be back to "straighten you out" after a messy kiss was pressed to your lips. He knew you were just throwing a little tantrum, pouting about Johnny.

Simon who also knew you'd be just as in love once he brought the man around.

Simon who's been bringing up his teammate around you more and more, carefully cataloguing your reactions and crafting a plan.

Simon who showed up a month after you broke up with him, acting like the separation didn't even happen and tugging a man behind him, introducing Johnny to "their" girl.

(Brain rot about it below)

-CW: Ghostsoap x AFAB reader, freak Ghost, Soap who's just as bad but more subtle about it, Hints at Ghost watching reader through cameras

"What kinda grub ya want?" The gruff voice came through the phone. It's been a month but you'd recognize the gravelly Manchester accent anywhere. It was Simon.

"Don't want anything from you" you retorted, not even coiling away from the demanding tone that rang through the speaker. You never would have answered if you knew, but you were too distracted with laundry to look at the caller ID before answering.

"Besides, maybe I moved huh? How are you going to drop off food if you don't know where I am?" You tried. It was a lame attempt, you knew it, but you also didn't know what to think of a month old ex wanting to bring you food.

Especially an ex like Simon.

A low, knowing chuckle came through the phone that had your face paling and thighs clenching simultaneously.

"No baby, you didn't move" he said, smug and sure. You wanted to ask how he knew that, but deep down you didn't really want to know the answer.

The sounds of shuffling came through the speaker before his voice rang out again, more demanding than the first time. "Now stop bein' a brat, you want takeout?"

You huffed, glaring down at the phone even if he couldn't see. It made you feel a little better and reminded you to ignore the heat building in your gut that his voice always caused.

"No" you said flatly with a frown. God did you want takeout now that he mentioned it. Your stomach growled, you got so lost in chores today you forgot to eat.

"Yeah ya do" he rumbled amused. He had this strange affinity for being unaffected by anything, voice self assured and calm under the softly mocking tone.

"Get the number 4 Johnny" his voice said, distantly as if he pulled away from the phone.

You frowned, running a hand over your head irritated and confused as you opened your mouth to question him. Really? He was calling you while he was with the man that caused your breakup?

"We'll be there soon dove" he said before you could gather your scattered thoughts. His voice louder now that he was close to the speaker again.

You swallowed thickly, not quite sure what to do, to think. Again, before you could even form a responce, maybe even a crafty insult, he hung up. The silence rang out loud, and your mind panics before settling on one thing.

We?

As soon as you opened the door you forgot why you broke up with him.

Simon's large frame stood, leaning against the doorframe. A bag of your favorite takeout was hanging from his gloved hand.

As usual, he was dressed in all black. His hood was up and he was wearing that skeleton face mask you'd got him as a joke. It was one you'd surprised him with after you saw the skull mask he wore around base.

Your heart clenched.

"Lookin' good Darlin'" Simon grunted eyes sweeping over you before another face popped out around his shoulder, his smile warm and disarming. "Evenin hen" the man greeted brightly.

So this was Johnny. God you wanted to hate the man, but he looked so sweet and inviting. His soft aura balanced out Simon's deadpanned gaze.

You were at a loss for words, helpless to stop as they shoved their way in. Simon's mask was set on the small table by the door and Johnny's boots were kicked off carelessly in the hall.

They started casually unpacking all the food on your kitchen counter, Simon guiding Johnny on where everything in your kitchen was.

"Simon what the f-" you started once your brain finally caught up and you shut your door, walking over to them. Only to be cut off by him again.

"Woulda been here earlier but got stuck on a bloody mission" he grunts pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he shoves a plate piled with food into your hands.

"Aye shite one too, took a month but we got 'em eh LT?" Johnny mumbled around a mouthful of egg roll.

A month?

Simon just grunted, broad hand squeezing the back of Johnny's neck. Your eyes tracked the movement, the way the shorter man leaned into the touch with a smile. Your heart clenched painfully again.

"Classified Johnny" Simon responded bluntly sliding his hand off his neck and loading up his own plate.

"Ah cmon Ghost let the lassie hear aboot how cool I am" Johnny grumbled with a pout, only perking up when Simon said nothing to dissuade him.

Johnny immediately walked over to you, hands waving as he rambled. You'd never met him in person before, only heard his name countless times. So many times actually that you started to worry. Eventually you called off your relationship because of your boyfriend's clear affection for someone else.

At least you thought you did.

You briefly considered the merits of trying to force them out. There was no way you could physically do it but you did always keep a bat by your door...

Simon looked up, smirk growing slowly as if he could read your thoughts. Johnny's voice next to you faded to the background as Simon walked closer.

"Let 'er eat before ya talk her ear off" the man huffed, pushing Johnny towards the living room before focusing down at you.

"Shoulda' let me teach you to fight dove..woulda been able to get us out of here hm?" He rumbled lowly, that damned smirk now stretching his scarred lips wide.

He patted your ass with a broad hand before motioning his head to where Johnny was sitting on your couch, adjusting the pillows next to him for you. "He's been excited to meet ya, I told him all about his girl. Now go on 'n eat lovie"

#Simon pet names only Riley #ghost x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny x reader #simon ghost riley #soap cod #john soap mactavish #ghoap #ghost cod #soapghost #ghostsoap #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghostsoap x reader #cod x reader

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writersblockiskillingme · 3 months ago

Note

I NEED GI HUN X F! READER PLEASEEEEEE

There’s barely anything for him:((

It can be literally anything but rn I’m craving comfort so maybe Gi Hun comforts his girl when she starts crying and she can’t really explain what’s wrong

Comfort | Seong Gi-hun x reader

Pairing: Seong Gi-hun x fem!reader

Summary: You knew that hunting down the salesman was going to be difficult, but after everything that you've been through in the games alongside Gi-hun, sometimes everything feels like it's going to suffocate you. Luckily, he's always there for you.

Warning/s: angst, hurt/comfort, a little fluff, short fic, just two traumatized people trying to heal each other, PTSP (talking about the games), death, tears, sadness, depressed atmosphere, cigarette addiction, cursing (?), mourning, guns, hunting down the salesman, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: So I finally got out of the writer's block, and I found some spare time, so I finally sat down to write. I gave it my best shot. I hope you like it! More to come.

Being his friend was easy. Being in love with him was even easier.

Once the games came around, everything became more complicated. I simply never thought that something like this was going to happen. Working in a job position that I did never brought me much money. Sure, it was enough to bring some food on my table and to cover the bills, but it wasn't anything big. However, once I found myself drowning in debt, I found myself in a horrific situation with no way out.

The money that I earned was not enough for respectable food, I couldn't pay my landlord for a few months, and I was a few weeks away from being kicked out on the streets. Not to mention the debt for which it seemed like I never paid enough to get out of. I thought moving back to Korea would somehow help me at least to escape the loan sharks and pay for necessary things, but I couldn't imagine how wrong I would be.

That's when I met him. The Salesman. Playing the ddakji with him for some money earned me some food for that night, but it also gave me an opportunity of a lifetime. It was an opportunity that I now know I would have never taken if I had known what was waiting for me out there once I called the number at the back of the card that he gave me.

Before the first game, I saw him. My old childhood friend Seong Gi-hun. Up until I saw him, I came to a realization about just how much I missed him.

Truth to be told, I have always felt something more than friendship for him ever since I was I kid. At first, I brushed it off, but when I entered my teenage years, I realized that I really loved him.

I had to move away when I was twenty years old. I haven't seen him ever since. I only heard a few snippets about his life during the years I spent away from Korea. I heard that he had a, now ex, wife, and a daughter.

It was his mother who called me. She used to watch over me sometimes when we were kids, and since I was her son's best friend back then, we kept in touch over the years. It was nice, to be honest. Up until the day that she called me for a regular check-up. I had just gotten off of work after a really bad day. I had just sat down by the kitchen counter when I heard my phone ringing. The entire time I was on a call with her, she sounded strange. Kind of nervous, maybe even a bit disappointed. After a while I couldn't take it anymore and when I asked her what was wrong she told me the joyful news.

"Gi-hun is getting married."

I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was suffocating. I somehow forced myself to finish the phone call, trying to sound as happy as I could, considering that the love of my life was marrying another. A few years later, he got a daughter, and I soon heard about the divorce. I tried calling him multiple times to check on him. He never answered.

We reconnected during the games. During the bloodshed. During the pain. During the tears. During the final game, where it was down to Sangwoo, him and I. After Sangwoo died, I knew I couldn't kill him. He couldn't either. After the stunt that we pulled, we survived. We were about to kill ourselves, we truly were, but then at the last second, just as the knife had scraped the surface of my neck, they announced two winners.

After that, I realized that I couldn't live without him. I didn't have a family, didn't have any friends. His mother died, and his daughter moved with her mother and stepfather to America he lost his family, too. We were everything to each other. We still are.

As the months, years, passed, we set ourselves on a mission of finding the salesman.

At first, we didn't touch the money covered with the invisible blood. We couldn't bring ourselves to do so, but when we realized that we may have a shot at taking down the games, we used the money only for that sole purpose.

The first thing we did was to pay off our debts. Then together we bought the love hotel called "Pink Motel" in Seoul. The sign outside was always tured off. We decided to buy it so we could live there and now we also use it as headquarters while tracking down the salesman. Which was always.

That was currently our only purpose in life right now.

After we figured out our plan, we started to work with the loan sharks that were chasing us because of our debts. We paid them to find the salesman, and they were searching relentlessly.

Our mental health hasn't been all that great either.

Both Gi-hun and I have developed a cigarette addiction. Sometimes all we did was breath in the intoxicating smoke instead of air. In a strange way it helped me breath. I wasn't so nervous anymore. My hands shook less.

Gi-hun has nightmares. Every single night. I have them, too, but not that frequently. He had a gun next to his nightstand. I had mine under the pillow. It brought a sense of comfort that was always short-lived.

The nightmares kept us up all night, and because of them, we couldn't find any rest even during the daytime. It was always the people we lost on that cured island. Sangwoo... Sae-byeok... Ali... The images of our friends dead never left my brain. And neither did Gi-hun's. Other times, we dreamt that we're still playing the games. Us dying. Each other dying. The Frotman. The salesman.

It was too much.

I was just monitoring the room where our most trusted men were practicing. I didn't realize when it had happened, but I fell asleep. I guess all those sleeping pills that Boss Kim gave to Gi-hun and me finally caught up to me.

I felt trapped. Gi-hun... he was dying in front of me during the squid game. I couldn't do anything about it. I held him, covered in his blood, crying, screaming, curing at the sky for the misfortune we had to live. Cursing the makers of the game. Cursing the Frontman. Cursing the pink guards that just stood there and did nothing. Cursing the world.

Hands.

They were shaking my shoulders.

My name.

It was uttered from the lips of the man that I would die for.

My eyes snapped open, meeting Gi-hun's worried ones. Once he realized that I was awake, his face visibly relaxed, relief washing over him as I heard him let out a sigh, his head and shoulders hung downwards.

"A nightmare again?" He asked me as he brought his hand up to my cheeks, whipping away the tears that I didn't know fell, but also wasn't surprised that they did.

"I-I can't-" I sobbed, unable to form a sentence as he quickly brought me in his arms, drowning me in his chest.

"Shhh..." He whispered as he ran his hand down my hair as I cried against his neck, drowning his black shirt with my tears, "I'm here. You're okay."

"Yo-You w-were-" I stuttered, tears streaming down my cheeks, "You were dying, and I-I couldn't s-save y-you."

For a moment, there was just quiet in the room. Neither spoke. The only thing breaking the silence of our bedroom were my cries.

"Do you know why I never answered your phone calls after you found out about the divorce?" He asked me, his voice low, but soft with comfort. His sudden question about that topic surprising me a bit, "Do you know why my mother told you about it instead of me? The wedding, the divorce?"

"No."

"It was because I didn't want to face the fact that I was the cause of your misery." He whispered, still softly running his hand through my hair, my cries slowly dying down as I listened to him speak.

"I have always loved you and I knew that I hurt you with my decision even though I never wanted that to happen. I just tried to forget about you, I never knew that I could actually be with you." He sighed, "I thought that it would be the best for you. I didn't deserve you, I'm not even sure I still do." He chuckled softly.

"But even though I may not deserve you, I will never stop fighting for you and your happiness. You are my everything, and I would be damned if I ever let you feel any sort of pain." He lifted my chin with his hand as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, our lips almost meeting each other's, "We will find him and end this, but for now, how about I make you some tea and we get you to bed huh, my love? What do you say?"

@shadow-tumbler

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thebestsetter · 4 months ago

Text

Leo Valdez is kinda obsessed with you.

Like, really. Even before you two began dating. Actually, especially before you two started dating.

Here's the thing: Leo was used to getting rejected by lots of girls, overlooked by everyone and feeling like he was not and would never be good enough. So, when someone - you - treated him with minimal decency, he was absolutely and undeniably hooked.

Your smile, your laugh, your touch, and everything about you made him feel all warm inside (even if he's already literally warm - but you know what I mean). And yet, he couldn't find the strength to confess to you, even if his feelings were eating him from the inside out.

It's just that - he felt like didn't deserve you. You deserved someone much better than little old him, and that's why he never made any advances besides the rare playful flirting (that only happened when he was feeling VERY brave).

But, one day, he decided enough was enough. He couldn't take it anymore: just watching you and knowing you're not his. Just thinking about you with another person made his stomach churn and his mouth feel dry.

He needed to find a way to win you over. He REALLY needed to. For both him AND for his friends, since they couldn't handle him talking about you all the time anymore.

But he couldn't just go and talk to you. Oh no, no. He needed it go perfectly. That's why he needed to practice.

"I love you, bad boy Leo!"

"No, you're not supposed to say that yet! I can't believe I messed up. Now, which wire do I need to unplug..."

It was a really funny scene, honestly. Just picture it: Leo freaking Valdez, one of the seven demigods from the prophecy, a guy who literally defied nature's order and came back from the dead, inside of bunker 9, talking to a robot who had a certain female demigod's voice and face stuck by tape to it's robotic "face".

"Okay, it should be all fixed now!" He smiled, clapping his hands to clean them a little "Let's try again. Caham!" He cleaned his throat and turned away from the machine.

Leo patted his shirt, passed his hands through his hair, fixed his imaginary tie and smelt his breath. When he deemed all was perfect, he turned back to the robot.

"Hello, mi Vida! How are you? Bet you're better now that I'm here"

"Yes, Leo! I'm much better now that you're here!" The robotic voice answered, using the pre-progamed speech

"Well, I need to talk to you about something very important" he grabbed the robot's hands, squeezing them while staring intently at your printed face

"Sure, Leo! I wanna talk to you all day!"

"Thank you for the compliment, Hermosa!" He smirked, and then started to get closer to the robot's face "I needed a lot of courage to actually talk to you. You know, you're an amazing person - the most amazing I've ever seen -, and I realized I fell for you because of that. I really, really like you. You're strong as heck, smart, funny, beautiful and, if I'm being honest, WAY out of my league. I know I'm probably too bad for you, but please give me a chance. I love you! Do you love me back?"

He waited a little. If he programmed this machine right (and he was sure he had. It was one of the most difficult - yet important - machine he had made in a long time), you - and by you, I mean the machine - were supposed to say...

"Hm. I'll think about it. You're kinda strange, you know? Talking to a robot and pretending it's me. But you're also cute, so I'll give it a shot"

"What the heck? It wasn't supposed to say that!" He muttered, confused, looking at the machine

"Hey! Don't call robot me an "it"! She's a "she", thank you very much!"

He was hallucinating. He probably was mentally ill or something. He hoped he was, at least. Because there was no way he just heard your voice. And not the robotic voice - your voice. That unmistakable sound, the one who appeared in his dreams and nightmares.

He didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to face you.

"H-how..." he asked, his hands forming little flames and face red "How much did you hear?"

"Since the very beggining" you laughed, and he could hear you getting closer - yet he still didn't want to turn around. "I didn't expect to see you talking to a robot version of me when Percy asked me to come bring you lunch"

He was going to kill Percy Jackson.

"Can't say I didn't like it, tho"

Huh. Maybe Jackson deserved to live another day.

"Really?"

"Really. I like you, Valdez. Ever since you gave me that tour on my first day here."

He finally - finally - turned to face you. His eyes drank in you - all of you. From your beautiful locks to your scrapped knees to your face. The shine in your eyes was something no printer could ever replicate.

"Really?" At that moment, he was the one who looked like a broken machine, repeating the same thing over and over - but he was still NOT believing this. He couldn't believe you actually liked him back. Him, the guy who talks to machines as though their living beings.

"Really" you laughed, the sound bringing a smile to his lips, as you got closer and closer till your hands were in his and he could literally smell your perfume "Let's give this a shot, Repair Boy"

Oh boy. You just broke him. Guess there's some things not even Repair Boy is capable of fixing, after all. His enourmous crush on you being one of them.

~ A/N: first pjo fic!! How are we feeling guys? 😋

#pjo x reader #pjo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #all da ladies luv leo #all the ladies luv leo #hoo x reader #pjo x you #pjo x y/n #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus

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wosola · 6 months ago

Text

French kisses .1 - Lucy Bronze x French!Reader

Hey everyone! I’m J. I used to write fanfiction on Wattpad for another fandom, but for a while now, I’ve mostly just been reading. Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time on AO3, where I started reading WoSo fanfics and fell into @bruhnze’s incredible works. After reading everything she’d published, I found her on Tumblr.

Recently, @bruhnze announced she was taking a break from writing. We connected, and I had the absolute honor of reading through her WIPs. One of them really inspired me, so I asked if I could finish it—and she said yes!

Originally planned as a single fic, this story grew into a 3-parter as I worked on it 🫣😅 Long story short: WIP by @bruhnze, finished by me, and proofread by her.

Summary: This is during Lucy Bronze’s time playing for Lyon, she's just gotten into a relationship with R, a 22-year-old student. For R it is the first time sleeping with someone. Based on this request, from the☀️anon over on @bruhnze.

Warnings: This is an 18+ fanfic with explicit content, so minors do not interact.

You had grown up in Lyon, lived there all your life. It had never been particularly eventful—your life was great, really. You loved your studies, had a close-knit group of friends, and there wasn’t much more to it.

The only thing that seemed to be missing, or at least it was something that was out of sync with your friends, was your love life. At 22, you had never really had one. While everyone around you seemed to be hooking up left, right and center, it never quite worked out that way for you. Not that you didn’t want to; you did.

It was just that you had never met anyone who stirred something in you in your everyday life. Sure, you’d kissed people now and then, but whenever things started to go further, you found yourself pulling back.

As time passed, being a virgin at your big age started to feel a bit strange. You were well past the point where a one-night stand felt like the right way to lose your virginity. Maybe it was because you didn’t know how to navigate all of that, or maybe you were worried that whoever you were with wouldn’t expect it and you’d feel awkward.

But in the blessed year 2017, as fate would have it, everything changed when you met a cute English girl in the local supermarché.

She had been struggling to find something on the shelves, her expression a mix of confusion and determination, when you decided to offer her a hand. The girl, who introduced herself as Lucy, explained in broken French that she had just moved to Lyon.

You helped her find what she was looking for, and as a thank you, Lucy asked for your number. You laughed and teased her, asking what she planned to do with it.

She had grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and in her charmingly imperfect French, she replied, "the least I can do is buy the pretty girl who helped me a dinner." That made you laugh harder, and when you joked about her not knowing any good restaurants yet, she just shrugged and said, "then you can decide where we go."

She had this boldness that was as charming as it was disarming—and, okay, maybe her being absurdly good-looking didn’t hurt in swaying your answer either. It was a yes without doubt, however towards Lucy you stayed a bit more unfazed.

That was a few months ago. Now, Lucy was much more comfortable with her French, picking it up quicker than you’d expected.

And not only was the woman smart, she was also incredibly athletic, which you'd noticed from the start. But on your fifth date, when you two had gone swimming, you couldn’t help but be floored by how fit she really was.

It wasn’t just her body, though—Lucy was thoughtful, kind, funny and so much more. You saw that side of her when she came with you to visit your grandpa in the hospital, bringing him a Lyon shirt signed by a player as a gift. You almost cried, you’d only mentioned that your grandpa was a life long fan of the club and here she was, gifting a signed shirt to him?!

That’s how you found out she was a footballer. Lucy had handed the signed jersey to your grandfather, grinning with that mischievous spark in her eye. “Hope you don’t mind it’s from a pretty new signing,” she’d teased. Then, with a playful glint, she added, “But I’ve heard she’s world-class. Do you know any players from Olympique Lyonnais Féminin? I can get another autograph if this one doesn’t impress you.”

Without skipping a beat, your grandfather, his face lighting up, assured her he did, mentioning that he always tried to catch matches, even if he mostly had to listen rather than watch due to his eyesight. “This is number 22, Bronze. She’s a great defender,” he said with pride. “I was thrilled when they signed her. Do you know her from England, or how did you manage to get this autograph?”

Your jaw nearly dropped as you glanced over at Lucy, who was barely holding back a smile.

“Yeah, you could say I’m close with her. Some say we’re practically twins,” she joked before reaching out to shake his hand. “But actually, I am Lucy Bronze. Nice to meet you, sir.”

Your grandfather’s laughter was as genuine as you’d heard in ages, his disbelief quickly turning into a delighted grin. It was as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“I won’t let you down,” she told him, her voice softer, promising. “We’ll bring home the Champions League for Lyon.”

You’d been dating for three months now, and things were going great. Lucy had met your friends, and they adored her. You told her early on that you wanted to take things slow, and she had been nothing but understanding. She didn’t want to rush things either, but she wasn’t afraid to show you how much she liked you. Everything felt so natural with her, as if it was meant to be.

There was a dinner planned with your parents this Sunday, tomorrow she had a match, but today was one of her rest days after a Champions League game.

After a relaxed afternoon strolling around the city, shopping for a birthday gift for a friend, Lucy insisted on stopping by the supermarket. She wanted to cook at home, saying she wanted a romantic night with you. You agreed, and soon, you were back at your apartment, where you spent more time kissing than actually cooking.

It had been happening more and more recently—lingering touches, playful kisses that turned into longer, deeper ones. Every time, though, it stopped before it could go too far. Sometimes it felt natural, like you both were happy to just be together, but other times it felt more abrupt, leaving your heart racing. You wanted her, of course—how could you not?—but there was still that one thing you hadn’t told her yet, and it held you back.

Lucy had noticed. She’d asked a few times, worried that you might’ve had bad experiences in the past, but you assured her that wasn’t the case. You just wanted to take your time, and she had been so patient with you, always respecting your boundaries. Sometimes recently, it was even Lucy who would pull back, smiling at you sweetly, her eyes filled with desire but also understanding.

You loved her. You wanted to share everything with her, every part of yourself.

Twice now, she had stayed the night at your place. She had offered to sleep in separate beds, but you had waved that away, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep cuddled up next to her.

And now, after watching her play last night and lying awake, tossing and turning, you had decided that you were ready to tell her what had been holding you back.

You wanted, ached, to explore this part of your relationship, and tonight, with the romantic dinner she planned, felt like the perfect moment.

Now you were here, a lovely dinner behind your belt.. fidgeting with your wine glass, noticing that strangely enough, Lucy seemed a bit nervous too.

You both spoke up at the same time.

“Y/N—” “Luce—”

Breathy laughter filled the air, easing some of the tension you both seemed to be holding. “You go,” you said in unison again, which only made you laugh harder.

You gently took her hands in yours. “No, you go, baby.”

“Baby..,” Lucy repeated slowly, as if she was rolling the word around in her mouth, trying to make up if she liked the taste of it, her eyes searching your face.

Your heart skipped a beat. Shit. Did she not like that? You had been using the term more and more recently, thinking you were both building toward something more, maybe even thinking of her as your girlfriend already. Panic crept in until Lucy's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts.

“I thought,” she began, tightening her grip on your hands, “that it was about time… that I asked you to be my girlfriend.” Her words tumbled out quickly, like she was nervous. “I know you want to take things really slow,” she added, rambling a little, “but I just really, really, really like you. More than that even.” She let out a breathy laugh, glancing away for a second, before her gaze settled back on yours. “But I won’t scare you with that just yet. What I’m trying to say is... I want to call you my girlfriend. So, um… if you—”

“Oui!” you cut her off, the word bursting from you with so much enthusiasm that it took you both by surprise. You felt your face flush with heat as you quickly added, “Uh, yes, Lucy, I love you too—” You stopped mid-sentence, blushing furiously. “I-I mean, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” you corrected, your voice softer but no less sincere.

Lucy’s smile stretched from ear to ear as she stood up from her seat, and you rose to meet her. The moment felt so perfect, so right.

She kissed you, a kiss filled with warmth and love, and you returned it with all the affection you’d been building up for this woman for months now. God, you were in love.

After a few long moments, you pulled back, your heart pounding. You knew you still had to tell her the other thing. But Lucy was looking at you with such softness in her eyes, her face lit with joy. You couldn’t help but brush your thumbs along her cheeks, feeling the heat of her skin under your touch.

“Love me huh?” Lucy teased at your little slip of the tongue earlier, her voice low and playful.

You chuckled, your nerves easing slightly. “Yes, I love you, Luce, je t'aime” you admitted, voicing the words felt like lifting a weight off your chest.

“Hmmm…” Lucy hummed, her grin widening as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. “That makes me really happy. I love you too,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin.

Before you knew it, Lucy’s hands had moved to cup your ass, lifting you up effortlessly. You squealed in surprise, even though she had done this before—it caught you off guard. Maybe because you still had to tell that other thing. But you couldn’t help but laugh as she carried you over to the couch, sitting down with you perched on her lap.

Both of you dissolved into giggles as you peppered each other’s faces with kisses, one after another. “I am so in love with you,” you murmured between kisses, your forehead resting gently against hers as you gazed into her eyes.

Lucy laughed, her nose brushing against yours. “It’s funny that we both wanted to tell each other that tonight,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Your cheeks flushed again, this time not just from the affection but from what you knew you had to say next. “I… I also…” you stammered, trying to find the right words. Lucy tilted her head, a curious smile tugging at her lips as she waited patiently.

“I also wanted.. uh no.. needed.. to tell you something else,” you finally managed, your voice a little shaky.

“Oh?” Lucy’s eyebrows lifted slightly, her expression soft. “Is it… a good thing?”

You bit your lip, unsure. “I’d…uh.. I’d say it’s more of a neutral thing?” you said, trying to ease into it.

Lucy smiled, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze as she leaned back against the couch. “Okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I know. It’s just… hard for me to say, I guess.” You could feel your nerves bubbling up again. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

Lucy’s gaze was steady, encouraging. “Hey, there’s nothing to apologize for,” she said softly. “Take your time.”

“I… I have never…” You struggled to find the right words, but they just wouldn’t come. “I mean, I know how everything works, of course, but I’ve just… never actually… done it.” The words tumbled out awkwardly, and you quickly looked down, embarrassed.

Lucy was quiet for a long moment, so long that you finally forced yourself to glance up at her. To your surprise, her expression hadn’t changed—she was still looking at you with warmth and understanding.

“Hey,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over your lower lip, gently freeing it from between your teeth where you’d been nervously biting it. “Thank you for telling me.”

You groaned, your forehead dropping against her collarbone. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief.

Lucy chuckled softly, her hand smoothing over your back. “Sorry for what? Like you said, it’s a neutral thing. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” She tilted your chin up so you could meet her eyes again. “I’m just happy you told me. Now I understand why we always stopped when we did.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and smiled shyly. Lucy’s hands found their way to your cheeks again, cupping your face with such tenderness that you couldn’t help but feel safe.

The two of you stared at each other, the weight of the moment sinking in before both of you burst into soft, breathy giggles, the tension dissolving.

You both had ended up lying down on the couch, nestled against each other in a comfortable silence. Lucy’s arm was around your waist, your head resting on her chest as you listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing. The warmth of her body and the way her fingers absentmindedly traced small circles on your arm made you feel calm, safe.

It must have been at least half an hour before you finally worked up the courage to speak.

“So… how do you, uh, want to do things?” you asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

Lucy tilted her head slightly, meeting your gaze with a curious look. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she responded, her voice gentle, as if she were afraid of pressuring you. “I mean… I want to do whatever you want, however you want, and when you want it.”

Her words made you smile, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. She was always so thoughtful, so patient. But the truth was, you had been thinking about this for a while now. You swallowed hard, trying to push past the embarrassment rising in your chest. “I feel like I’m ready,” you began, but the words felt heavy in your throat.

Lucy’s expression softened even more, her hand rubbing soothingly along your back, waiting for you to continue.

“That’s… I…” Your face flushed bright red as you tried to find the right words. You couldn’t tell her just how ready you were without blushing even harder.

The truth was, ever since you and Lucy had started dating, you had never felt this kind of desire before. In the past few weeks, your own body had been betraying you, and the thought of Lucy, had been invading your mind, especially when you were alone. You had never been so… wanting. It was like something in you had awakened. It wasn’t just the emotional connection—you physically craved her.

“Uhm… it’s been hard,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “not going further than kissing with you.” Your cheeks burned even more as you confessed, “But I felt like I needed to tell you this first before we went further… it was hard for me to confess.. I feel a bit.. uhm.. behind?”

Lucy’s thumb gently stroked your cheek, silently urging you to continue, her face calm and open.

“I’ve been thinking about… you,” you admitted, your voice faltering slightly. The vulnerability of the statement hung between you, the air thick with it. “A lot.”

Lucy’s lips curved into a small, tender smile as she listened. She didn’t laugh or tease you like you might’ve feared. Instead, she looked at you with a warmth that made your heart flutter in your chest.

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” she said quietly, her voice sincere. “But I didn’t want to push you, and I didn’t want to rush into anything until you felt ready. I wanted to respect your boundaries and I am really happy you told me this before we went further, and you’re not behind at all by the way, everyone does things at their own pace.”

You nodded, appreciating her patience but feeling the need for honesty. “But really I… I’ve been more than ready,” you repeated, the words rushing out now that you had started. “It’s been hard for me to hold back. I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t want to… you know, go further with you. I’ve just never… done it before.” You didn’t know why you were repeating yourself, maybe to bring over to Lucy how much you meant it.

Lucy nodded, her hand moving to intertwine with yours. “I get it,” she said softly. “I’m really glad you told me. I want you to feel comfortable with whatever we do, and I don’t want you to feel like there’s any pressure.” She paused for a moment, searching your face. “But when you’re ready, whenever that is, I’m here. We’ll take it slow, together.”

You smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, resting your forehead against hers.

Lucy sighed contentedly as she lay beneath you on the couch, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm. After a moment, she cleared her throat, breaking the comfortable silence.

“So, um… your parents,” she started, her voice tentative. “Sunday dinner, huh? What’s that going to be like?”

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the shift in conversation. “What about it?” you asked, propping yourself up slightly to look at her.

Lucy gave a small, nervous laugh. “I don’t know, like… have you told them anything about me? Do they know we’re dating, or is this going to be a complete surprise?” She bit her lip, clearly a little anxious. “I just want to make sure I don’t mess this up.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Why are you thinking about that right now?” you asked, your tone playful as you began trailing soft kisses along her neck, nuzzling into the warmth of her skin.

Lucy let out a breathy laugh, though her body tensed slightly under your touch. “I—uh… I just don’t want to screw it up. Are you sure you really want to do this right now?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

She turned her head to look at you, concern flickering in her eyes. “I don’t want to rush you, y/n.”

You giggled against her neck, pressing a kiss just below her ear. “Three months isn’t enough of a wait for you?” you teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

Lucy chuckled, her body relaxing slightly as she looked up at you, her nerves fading a little. “Okay… so the dams have really broken now, haven’t they?” She raised her eyebrows, amused.

“Well, now that I’ve told you, and you didn’t get scared away... I have to admit, I’m kind of excited. I mean…” you grinned sheepishly. “I find you really attractive.”

She smiled as you moved your hand under her shirt, your fingertips brushing against her warm skin, you whispered, “I’m in love with you, Luce. I want to share that part of myself with you, too. And you know…” You paused, leaning down to kiss her collarbone. “Je sais à quel point tu es bon au football, alors je ne peux qu’imaginer que tes talents athlétiques s’étendent au-delà de ce jeu…’’ You whispered.

Lucy giggled, swatting at you playfully. “Oh, you’re cheeky,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. But she glanced up at the ceiling with a grin and added, “Are you sure you’ve got no experience at all? It feels like I’m more out of it than you are right now.”

You sat up a little, shifting so that you were straddling her hips, your hands resting lightly on her stomach. You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh?” you asked, smirking slightly. “Has it been long for you?”

Lucy bit her lip, her gaze dropping for a moment before she admitted, “Maybe… half a year? I don’t know.”

“Versus 22 years,” you teased, rolling your eyes giggling. “I think I win.”

Lucy grinned, sitting up to face you, her hands resting on your waist. “Mmm, no. I think I win.” She leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with affection. “I’ve got the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life sitting on my lap right now.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm, your heart swelled in your chest. But instead of letting yourself get lost in the emotion, you smirked, leaning in close until your lips hovered just inches from hers. “Mmm, really?” you teased softly. “Tell me more…”

Lucy’s expression turned serious, though her eyes were still playful. “I mean it, y/n. Now that I know how much this means to you, I want it to be special… really special. I always wanted that for us, but now it feels even more important.”

You rolled your eyes in playful disbelief, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Mon chéri,” you whispered, brushing a kiss over her cheek, “we just had the most romantic dinner, confessed our love—I'd say that’s pretty perfect already, wouldn’t you? Besides, it’s already special because it’s with you, my love, you are the only person I could think of doing this with.”

Lucy’s smile deepened, and she reached up to brush her thumb along your cheek. “Perfect, sure,” she mused. “But… candles, flowers, fresh sheets…” She bit her lip, ‘’in my head I was going all out for you, I am not even wearing my good underwear, amour.’’

You chuckled, thinking of your preparations for today. ‘’I am.’’

You watched her pupils dilate, her eyes widening in surprise, and she swallowed hard, clearly taken aback. “Oh,” she said in a breathy tone, as if she had just forgotten how to speak.

You chuckled, watching her shift, almost flustered. “Are you getting shy, Luce?”

“No! It’s just that… I don’t know,” she stammered, running a hand through her hair, clearly struggling to keep her composure. “I really want to keep things slow, to be respectful and everything, but when you say things like that…” She scratched her neck, her voice barely a whisper, “it’s… hard to...”

“Hard to what?” you asked, delighted to see her cheeks flush, a sight you didn’t often get to see from her.

Lucy groaned, leaning back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s hard for me not to think about… taking things a little faster than planned.” Her voice came out all at once, as if she’d been holding it back.

You leaned in, your lips just grazing hers. “Well, what’s wrong with those thoughts, then?” you asked, teasingly brushing your fingers along her neck.

She exhaled softly, biting her lip as she hesitated. “Let’s… wait until after I’ve met your parents,” she finally managed, pulling back slightly, though it was clear that it took effort.

Your smile faltered, confusion and a hint of disappointment washing over you. “Oh… I thought…” You shifted off her, sitting up and moving to your own spot on the couch, feeling uncertain.

Lucy’s hand instinctively reached for yours, her expression tinged with a hint of panic. “No, no—y/n, it’s not that I don’t want to! I do, more than you know.” She looked down, as if gathering her thoughts. “I just thought, well, when you mentioned meeting your parents on Sunday, I figured it was important to you to wait until after that step.” She paused, glancing up at you with earnest eyes. “I actually had… this plan in my head for next week. Thursday, to be exact.”

You blinked, intrigued and slightly amused by her meticulousness. “You have… a plan?”

“Yeah,” she said, scratching her neck in that adorable way that always made you smile. “I even talked to your housemate to make sure she’d be out for the night. I thought, you know, after we’re official and all…” She laughed softly, glancing down shyly. “I was going to surprise you with candles, flowers, everything. It’d be in your own bed, so you’d be comfortable.” She pressed a hand to her chest, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t want to pressure you, of course, but I wanted it to be right for you—like, um… create a perfect moment for us.”

Your heart melted as you listened, and you could hardly contain the adoration shining in your eyes. Here was this amazing, thoughtful woman who loved you so deeply, wanting everything to be perfect.

“Luce, you’re… adorable,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss her, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude for such an incredible girlfriend.

You could feel the heat and intensity building between you, like two magnets drawn together. Your mouths met in a deep, fervent kiss, a silent conversation of everything you hadn’t said and all the things you were both holding back. It was a kiss full of promises, anticipation crackling in the air around you.

As the kiss deepened, Lucy’s hand slipped to your waist, and you let yourself sink into her warmth, into her presence.

After a moment, you pulled back just slightly, a small smirk crossing your face. “Are we sure we want to wait until next week?” you whispered, your voice low. “Today is a Thursday too.”

She took a deep breath, nervous laughter lighting up the room. “Well, I don’t know if I want that, but I think it would be best, so yes, I think I want that.”

“Thursday can’t come soon enough,” you groaned.

You both laughed, the intensity giving way to a moment of lightheartedness as you laid together, feeling secure, knowing that when the time was right, it would be everything you both had been waiting for.

After a while Lucy scooped you up into her arms effortlessly, grinning as you let out a surprised laugh. She headed toward the bedroom, ignoring your glance back at the kitchen.

“We really should clean up first,” you protested lightly, glancing over her shoulder at the table still set with empty plates and a bottle of wine.

Lucy shook her head, a smirk playing on her lips. “Nope,” she said, nudging the bedroom door open with her hip. “Tonight we can cuddle, tomorrow we’ll worry about that again.”

Once in the bedroom, Lucy set you down at the edge of the bed.

You felt your cheeks warm as you began to undress, carefully slipping out of your top, suddenly hyperaware of her eyes on you. You hesitated, noticing she’d turned her head away slightly, as if trying to give you privacy, even now.

“No, you can look,” you murmured softly, smiling as her gaze shifted back to you, her eyes meeting yours with such warmth that your heart fluttered. “You’re my girlfriend,” you added, the last word feeling new and sweet on your lips.

Lucy’s gaze traveled over you slowly, and you felt a blush rising to your cheeks as you slipped out of your top and bra, letting them fall softly to the floor. For the first time, her eyes settled on the bare skin of your chest, and you could see her breath catch for a moment, her lips parting as she took you in.

You felt a mix of warmth and shyness under her gaze, but her expression was so open, so purely admiring, that you felt at ease. When her gaze lifted to yours, her eyes held a soft awe that made your heart skip. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

You smiled, feeling both vulnerable and cherished in that moment, before turning to her closet and reaching for one of her oversized shirts to slip on. As you lifted it over your head, Lucy let out a little chuckle, recovering herself, and as she undressed down to her boxers and sports bra, her cheeks were pink.

Once undressed, you both climbed into bed, buried under the comforter as you found each other in the dim light, legs tangling together. She pulled you close, and her mouth met yours again, warm and gentle.

The kiss deepened, lips moving slowly, savoring each touch, each taste. Lucy’s hand rested on the small of your back, sliding upward with a feather-light touch that sent soft tingles across your skin. You felt a pleasant, fluttering warmth in your stomach as her fingers brushed over you.

Your own hands explored her too, grazing the line of her jaw, the smooth skin of her shoulder, and then down to her waist, lingering as you took in every detail. With every kiss, your heart raced faster, your body responding to her closeness, feeling both electric and calm at once.

But just as things were growing more intense, you felt a faint pulse of nerves, next Thursday was maybe not so bad. “Wait,” you whispered, smiling softly, though your cheeks were warm. “We haven’t brushed our teeth yet.”

Lucy paused, her eyes immediately searching yours, understanding lighting up in her gaze. She brushed a gentle hand over your cheek, offering a reassuring smile. “Totally forgot,” she said softly. Her hand found yours as she guided you to the bathroom, fingers intertwined as you both stood side by side at the sink.

You shared smiles as you brushed your teeth together, Lucy’s shoulder bumping lightly against yours, and even things like this simple routine felt special in her presence.

As you finished, you turned to find her already smiling, her hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Back in bed, Lucy wrapped her arm around you as you nestled close, her hand resting comfortably over your hip. You let yourself settle, your head on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart, your own hand resting on her stomach, feeling the warmth of her skin and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.

In the quiet, with Lucy’s arm wrapped around you and her hand softly resting on you, sleep came easily, and the last thing you heard before drifting off was the sound of her breathing, steady and warm, and the quiet, whispered words she murmured just before you both faded into dreams; “Goodnight, my love.”

I hope you guys like this, I felt a bit rusty writing again, but I think in the future I might be writing more woso fics.

Part 2 of this will follow soon!

-J.

#lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze smut #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze fanfic #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #chelsea women x reader #woso smut

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bahngarang · 5 days ago

Text

chapter 7.0 ☆ the lock and key theory

ss: 3

wc: 1,763

cw: swearing, food mentions, jokes about disability (from a disabled writer)

a/n: seeing my work while I'm innocently scrolling through the skz x reader tag is WILD y'all

yn's office hours were... interesting. during their first year as a part-time professor, it had initially been pretty boring. no one really came to their office. the students preferred to go to their more serious professor, as it were – and dr jang was definitely more serious and more experienced. she had more of a reputation. which was fine, yn was perfectly happy to lesson plan and do the more computer heavy side of their research in that time. they enjoyed working alone. no distractions.

the second year? not so quiet.

it had started small. justin being the main instigator. he was always one of the more outgoing ones. he came in once or twice a week, bothering them with questions about the material. things he probably could have figured out on his own, but it was kind of nice.

now, yn had justin, and oftentimes a few of his friends, hanging out with them during office hours. doing homework, asking about assignments and essays and sometimes just yapping. and, strangely... yn liked it. sure, sometimes they had to use urban dictionary to decipher the young people language, and deal with the occasional millennial/old person joke, but it was pretty fun.

today was one of the more yappy days, clearly. justin did have his laptop out, precariously placed on his legs, but he was completely ignoring it except to make sure it didn't drop to the floor. instead, he was rambling on about how painstaking sewing beaded fabric was, and stitching and so on. don't get them wrong, yn was absolutely listening, but they were also having something close to a religious experience with today's cheesecake that dr jang had brought up from the cafeteria for them.

"–and i've already managed to break two needles on that stupid stuff, even though I spent ages unpicking the beads by hand, like, at this point, is it even worth it?"

"mmh," yn hummed sympathetically, taking another bite of cheesecake, chewing slowly. shifting on their desk chair, they crossed their right leg over their left to get more comfortable. "well, considering how much you've been talking about this for the last couple of months, I don't think you should give up now just because you're frustrated over some fabric."

justin huffed. "yeah, but it's annoying, and-" he stopped, and yn looked up at him from their lesson plan after a few moments of silence.

"what?"

"nothing, it's just..." he squinted at their knee. "has that tattoo on your knee changed? did you get a cover-up or something?"

"it's not a tattoo, it's my soul mark," yn said, before looking down at their knee in confusion. they were less averse to showing it now that it was pretty much unreadable. or... it was.

"what the fuck..." yn muttered to themselves. it wasn't completely as it was before all the knee surgeries, but it was definitely... closer than it used to be. and even through their sheer tights, they could read a few initials – b.c., s.c., and y.j.. well. shit.

"do soul marks... usually change?" justin murmured.

yn's area of expertise was not soul marks in any capacity, but it couldn't be a coincidence that the only three of their soulmates that they'd seen – and touched – were the ones who's initials they could read now. one? sure. two? weird, but okay. but three? yeah, something was definitely going on. yn hadn't heard of soul marks changing after interactions with soulmates, but then again, they also didn't know anyone else who'd had their marks fucked up, especially to the extent of their one. "uhm... not that I know of..."

"that's... weird."

"... yup."

"does it feel any different?"

"i would have noticed earlier if it did," yn replied.

"do you know why it's doing that?" justin asked curiously, leaning further over yn's desk to look closer at it.

"i... have an idea," yn said to their chagrin.

"cryptic."

"you're my student, you don't need to know about my love life," yn said. "i'm sure you have much more pressing matters to worry about. like... studying..."

"boo. that's boring," justin said, heaving a sigh and draping himself over the back of his chair.

"i feel i should remind you that you have a test next week," yn said flatly. "and while studying may be boring, it does help your results." yn left out that they had not been the most avid studier during their university years. do as i say and not as i do, right? justin didn't have to know.

not that he listened, continuing his impassioned rant about beaded fabric and other things, while yn silently had a mini crisis over the new development in the soulmate department.

"hi," yn mumbled, frowning down at the pan in front of them. they were... attempting to cook dinner, their phone set up against the back wall of their kitchen counter. but it was one of those days when they had to drag a chair into the room so they didn't have to stand up, so it wasn't a particularly nutritious meal. still better than not eating, though.

"hey." the audio from minji's end was... crackly. the connection in the gym she went to was shitty, to say the least. and she'd chosen to accept the video call while on the treadmill, which was a choice, for sure.

chika giggled quietly, and the half-drunk margherita that she held told yn she was at least a little tipsy. her location was unclear, but it was clear she'd found some room away from the main party where she wouldn't be disturbed for a while. "guess who I'm with," she hummed out in a sing-song voice, before turning the camera to bring her companion into frame.

yn, at this point, wasn't surprised at who it was. it was, in their mind, only logical – chika was at a versace event, so was hyunjin, and fate seemed to have it out for them recently, so why wouldn't it be him?

"we're hiding," chika whispered. "it's very loud. and there are too many people. i am quite overstimulated."

"hello," hyunjin said shyly, giving a small wave to the camera.

yn, for all the repressing of their feelings, still couldn't deny how cute he was. it was just one of those things. they suspected it had a little to do with the fact that he was their soulmate... but it was also just one of those things.

"so, what was the stuff in the group chat about your soul mark changing?" chika asked, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face, as if one of my soulmates wasn't unfortunately right beside her.

"shut the fuck- oh, my god, get your furry ass off my counter!" yn complained, getting up off their chair to grab bingus, who was making his daily escapade into the kitchen cabinets. honestly, they wouldn't really have a problem if it was the ones at ground level, but trying to haul the cat's fluffy body out of the top shelf of the higher cupboards every day was just... it took far too much effort. they sighed, walking back into frame, holding bingus like the little baby he was, slumping back down into their chair, breathing a little heavy. "he's such a pest."

"just grabbing your cat has you breathing like that? damn..." minji said with a slight laugh, the background noises of her running slowing down as she lowered the speed of the treadmill.

"yeah, well, health is wealth and I am dirt poor, if you catch my drift," yn said, scratching bingus behind the ears and kissing his little forehead.

hyunjin gasped from the other side of the camera, his eyes going wide. "you have a cat?"

yn chuckled, picking up their phone to hold the camera closer to their kitty. "he's called bingus. i woke up to him sitting on my face this morning."

hyunjin muttered something that the microphone didn't manage to pick up, but evidently chika found it absolutely hilarious in her drunken state. "he's so cute..."

bingus meowed gently at the camera, blinking his wide eyes innocently like he wasn't just trying to use yn's ramen stash as a cat bed, instead of literally any other surface in their apartment. he was a strange one. although, maybe that was just cats in general.

"that he may be, but he also made five escape attempts in the past hour and was sulking until about ten minutes ago because I wouldn't let him risk his life in seoul traffic," yn replied in exasperation.

minji sighed sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "you clearly don't love him then."

"yes, i hate my cat and want him to live an unfulfilling life. he reminds me of that often. maybe i shouldn't have trained him to come with me on my bike. i've given you a taste for danger, hm?" yn smiled down at bingus, kissing his cheek.

"you have a bike?" hyunjin asked.

"yeah," yn confirmed. it was pink, and had hello kitty detailing – what more could you want?

"they're objectively less safe, you know that, right?" minji said. it was a conversation they'd had many times, but it always ended the same.

"i never said it made sense," yn protested. "but, unfortunately, i don't have the luxury of being able to walk everywhere, i'm scared of cars, and me and public transport don't mix well because it's usually too busy to sit down, so... this is my solution."

"i think we should go back," chika said, finishing the conversation abruptly. "i think donatella has some attachment issues," she whispered, not that it was any quieter.

yn chuckled. "alright. see you in a few days."

minji's pout was practically radiating through the screen as she said her goodbyes, to no surprise. it wasn't just donatella versace who had attachment issues.

and so, yn was left alone with their thoughts again while they ate their noodles – and simultaneously tried to stop bingus eating them as well. hyunjin was... nice to talk with. not that they expected otherwise, but... a part of them wished he wasn't. it would have made it easier to reconcile staying away for so long.

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koolades-world · 1 year ago

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Can you do some crack headcanons for Obey Me where some accident causes MC to temporary get wings that are not only huge af but also let them fly super fast? Like a singular flap could cause MC to almost bump into the ceiling at Diavolo's castle alone. They can also zoom through the air at high speeds and you can just hear the "ZYOOOOOM"

One thing I can imagine is Lucifer teaching MC how to fly and immediately regretting it cuz he's the only one who can get even remotely close to them when they're flying and MC finds it funny to fly away from him(it's also out of fear of what will happen once he gets them)

hi! haha yeah of course! this is too funny can kinda imagine mc going splat like a in a cartoon LOL

let's set the scene: solomon fed you something weird that he cooked up in a cauldron after promising you something you want, and this makes you grow these super large, super strong wings. he swears they'll go away eventually, but it's up to you if you believe that or not. how does your man react?

Mc with temporary wings

Lucifer

kinda like a disapproving dad for accepting yet another strange potion from solomon

despite this, he takes you under his wing (haha get it?) and teaches you how to control them

once you get comfortable, you invite him to play games that he pretends he doesn't have time for but always joins in on. he secretly really enjoys having someone to

gosh,,, sky tag 🥺 the silly potential is endless since in the sky, there are no expectation for either of you

Mammon

probably also would have taken that offer from solomon

as another wing haver, he can help you out a little

the first time he tried to give you lessons, you accidentally smacked him in the face and sent him into the wall behind you

after that, he’s much more careful, and once you get the hang of it, he's teaching you his crafty ways

Levi

manages to reference at least three different animes he's seen around the situation

he thinks your wings are so cool but won't admit it

at one point, he takes you diving at Siren Beach for fun since you would be able to move through the water quickly with the large wings. lotan joins and you end up finding lots of cool stuff!

afterwards, he helps you dry off your wings since that wasn't exactly something you thought about before you got in the water

Satan

he's quick to ask solomon about how he made the potion out of curiosity

also asks if he can study your wings and watches you as you learn to fly

kinda goes science mode on you

since he knows how tiring carrying around that new weight must be, so he gives you lots of tasty food to replenish your energy, and offers you massages! (he learnt from simeon, the best)

Asmo

over the moon! he thinks they're so beautiful and almost wants to ask solomon to give him a pair too

he will accessorize you even if you run away, so expect lots of him hustling after you with all his ribbons and bows in hand

"Mc, sweetie, you're gonna look so cute!" is holding the ugliest old lady esque bows ever

teaches you all his favorite arial tricks even though both of you realize early on that you don't have the agility required with how large your wings are

Beel

can't comprehend how fast you are with those things

even though he also has wings, you fly circles around him with yours (if you even have the control for that)

quickly introduced you to aerial sports and the two of you find games to play together, even though it's kinda hard considering how different your wings and skillsets are

since they're only temporary, he wants you to make the most of them, and takes you sight seeing!

Belphie

you're literally just a pillow as far as he's concerned now

they're perfect for wrapping himself in and if you wanted, you could hide the two of you in them

when you're practicing flying, he yells out all sorts of useless "useful" tips, such as not to run into something you've already hit

he just sits on the sidelines, wrapped in a blanket, watching lazily amused

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #headcanons #gn reader

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livingformintyoongi · 1 year ago

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Can I make a request with smut and angst and a happy ending???

Reader has a crush with jk since they were young (they were neighbors growing up). Now they are 26 yo.Taehyung throws this party and they both attend.

She hears him talking with his friends about how he never liked her and was just close to her because he helped him study and their parents were friends. But in reality he likes her, he was trying to play it cool.When oc hears that she runs off.

A few days later she meets with Yoongi (an old friend, they had a fling a while ago) at her house and he holds her in his arms.

One thing leads to another and they fuck (could you please add some nasty smut?????) While they are doing it, Jungkook barges in (he has her house keys and was worried because she doesn't reply to his texts) and sees them, but they don't stop.

happy ending with Yoongi????

The new and the ex

a/n: First of all, I want to apologize if the smut is not as nasty as you thought, I have never written anything like this before. Second, thanks for sending your request, I really got excited when you put that you wanted a happy ending with Yoongi, I wanted that too lol. Warnings: MDNI, fingering, hair pullling, a slightly jealous/possessive Yoongi, Jungkook being an idiot for wanting to make himself look good, a casual joke during sex (sorry, I swear it's unintentional), choking. wc: 5k

"Have you guys really never had anything? I always thought you were a couple, or at least liked each other," Namjoon muttered, sipping some of the cheap alcohol from his plastic cup. His brow was furrowed and his head was barely tilted to one side.

"Of course not" laughed Jungkook, shaking his head, "Y/N and I have always been just friends, what's more, if it wasn't for our parents I wouldn't have even approached her, we don't have similar tastes, you know?".

Namjoon and Hoseok shared a look. Neither of them understood the situation between the two of you very well, but it definitely didn't seem like nothing. The two of you were inseparable. You always hung out together, always walked hand in hand, even on more than one occasion you were seen almost kissing, so why would Jungkook say that?

Well, you were asking the same question.

You squeezed the two cups you had in your hands, not caring if your hands would end up sticky and smelling of beer. You walked to the nearest dumpster you could find, threw them there and stared at the one with Jungkook's name on it. You had even put a bunny on it. It took you a few seconds to react and realise how strange it looked that you were standing in front of a trash can looking at its contents. You probably looked like you wanted to throw up, which wasn't far from the truth. Your stomach felt upset and your eyes stung enough to make you blink faster.

“Y/N” Taehyung approached you with a big smile on his face. He was holding a girl by the hand. You'd never seen her before, and you couldn't care less.

"Taehyung" you muttered, shifting in your place. You wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, but you also didn't want to ruin his party.

"I was looking for you, I wanted to introduce you to someone" he smiled big, pulling the girl to his side and putting her almost on top of you. You were a little surprised at how small she was. "This is my girlfriend, Soomin, she also comes from Daegu, I was so surprised when she told me".

"It's a pleasure" she smiled, offering you her hand. You didn't hesitate to take it. She was as well not to blame for your desire to disappear from here as soon as possible. "Have we met before? Your face looks so familiar”.

"I'm sorry, I really don't remember seeing you before," you smiled through tight lips. You looked at the exit door out of the corner of your eye. It wasn't that far away, maybe, if you told him you were going to the bathroom, you'd have a chance to get out of there. Yeah, it sounded like a good plan. "Excuse me, do you mind if I go to the bathroom?", you shifted your gaze from Taehyung to Soomin, waiting for a response from either of them.

To your surprise, Soomin covered Taehyung's mouth just as he was about to reply, "No problem, take your time."

"Thank you" you smiled weakly, camouflaging yourself among the sweaty, joyful bodies dancing to a shitty song that didn't even seem to be made for dancing. It took you a while to get to the yard of Taehyung's house, there were a lot of people in the way and it was too difficult to pass without touching anyone.

A shiver ran through your body as you felt the cold winter air hit your bare arms. Usually Jungkook was the one who brought a jacket for you, and if he didn't, he'd give you his. Fuck Jungkook, you thought, you didn't even need him that much, the car you had come in was yours anyway, and you had the keys to it.

You were walking around for a good few minutes trying to find your car. You almost cried with excitement when you saw it on the other side of the street. You ran towards it, unlocked the door and got in as fast as you could. You let out a sigh of relief when you were finally out of the cold.

The first thing you did was turn on the heater, blowing air into your hands in an attempt to warm them. You turned towards the passenger seat, and it wasn't until you noticed Jungkook's jacket that you burst into tears.

You felt so stupid, how could you think you could ever have anything? Just because he was nice to you? Surely he had many girls much nicer than you by his side. You were just his childhood friend, that person he would never consider as a woman.

You felt like you threw away more than 20 years of your life.

You cleaned your cheeks with your forearm, starting the engine so you could go home.

You were taking the third tub of ice cream out of your fridge when your phone started vibrating. The thought of Jungkook texting made you nervous. Had he noticed you were missing from the party?

You picked up your phone carefully, turning on the screen and checking your inbox. You were surprised to see that the person who was writing to you wasn't even part of your contacts. You decided to check the messages without opening them.

xxx: "Hi, this is Soomin, we spoke a while ago, remember?”

xxx: "Sorry to bother you again, but I really needed to talk to you urgently."

You opened the messages. Your curiosity won out over any other emotion. Besides, maybe she had something to tell you that would distract you enough to forget how bad you were feeling right now.

When you opened the messages, a photo was the first thing that appeared on your screen. You'd be lying if you said you weren't surprised to see it. How did she get it?

xxx: "I had a music tutor in Daegu, he taught me how to play the piano”

xxx: "His name is Min Yoongi, he had some pictures with some of his students on a shelf, that's you in the picture, aren’t you?”

You were a little hesitant to respond. You hadn't spoken to Yoongi in months, you were surprised that he still had that photo in his office. It had been taken after you won first place in a piano competition. You were so proud of that achievement.

"What difference does it make? It's just a picture," you whispered to yourself. According to what the girl had said, the two of them weren't friends, so they had probably cut off contact, just like you did with Yoongi after you moved here.

"Yes, it's me, I can't believe he still have that picture lol 😂"

You sent the message, feeling your heart in your throat as you saw the three dots.

xxx: "I knew I'd seen you somewhere else 🙂"

You took a second to think the situation through, why would Taehyung's girlfriend talk to you? The topic was important, right? It was the first thing she wrote in her message, so why was she asking you about a picture from a few years ago?

xxx: "Yoongi is coming to Seoul on holidays, why don't you two get together and talk? If you are who I think you are, I'm sure he'd love to get together with you and catch up!".

You went blank. Although at least now you understood why she was texting you. Would Yoongi have told her about his relationship with you? No, you couldn't even call what you had a relationship, it was barely a few months, most of the time you just had sex and then went back to their normal lives. Maybe you went out on a date or two, but nothing beyond that.

xxx: "It's probably strange what I'm telling you, I'm sorry 😣"

You bit your nail as you noticed that Soomin had sent you a phone number.

xxx: "That's his number, in case you want to talk to him!"

You weren't quite sure how you ended up crying on Yoongi's shoulder as you told him how your childhood love and ex-best friend had just broken your heart a week ago and was still going about his business as usual while you sank into your misery, and a ridiculous amount of ice cream and sweets, but that was exactly was going on.

"I swear, he said it so obnoxiously," you sobbed, taking one of the tissues from the box in his lap and blowing your nose, "And in front of our friends! How am I supposed to look them in the face now? They all knew I liked him, or at least I think they did, I don't know".

You threw the tissue on the table, where another overwhelming amount of papers were lying.

"Y/N" he muttered, pulling out another tissue and using it to gently wipe your cheeks, "You need to calm down a bit, unless you have another box of tissues to spare."

"No, this is the last one" you looked at Yoongi, "I'm sorry, am I being too annoying? This is exactly why I didn't want to call you" you shook your hair, avoiding looking at Yoongi, "You always look at me with that look that makes me want to spit out all the shit that happens in my life. I really hate that, you know?"

"It's fine, I don't mind" he shrugged, setting the box down on the side of the couch you were both sitting on, "Just like I don't mind listening to all the shit that goes on in your life" he smiled briefly at you, his eyes locked on yours, "I missed listening to you in general."

"Really?" you muttered, feeling your heart pounding against your ribs hard.

Jungkook was your childhood love, but Yoongi? Yoongi was something else entirely. You couldn't say for sure that what you felt for him was love, but it would definitely be a lie to say that you never felt anything for him.

At first it was just physical attraction, on both our parts. Yoongi was so quiet and mature compared to what you were used to seeing, he seemed to know so much about everything, it was impossible not to be at least curious about him. You, on the other hand, were much more outgoing than he was; you were definitely like a breath of fresh air in Yoongi's life, someone he knew he could trust and tell things to without filters.

Even though the whole time you were together you were never sure how you felt about him, he always knew how he felt about you. He loved you then, he loved you in the time when you disappeared, and he loved you right now, even if you had only called him to vent about your broken heart.

"Of course I do," he said as he moved closer to you. It was only a few inches, but it was enough for both of your shoulders to touch. "How could I not? You're so... so you" he laughed softly, caressing your cheek with his knuckles.

Almost unconsciously you leaned into his touch. You were surprised that, despite how long it had been since you last saw each other, his touch still sent an electric current through your body. You were unaware of how much you missed him until this moment.

"What kind of answer is that? Is that supposed to be a good thing?" you laughed teasingly, leaning a little closer to him. You could have sworn there was some kind of string drawing you to him.

"It's a hell of a lot better than good," he moved his hand down to stop at your neck, stroking the skin behind your ear with his thumb.

You smiled helplessly as you noticed how his eyes had dropped to linger on your lips.

"Do you want to kiss me, Yoonie?" you asked, running your hand up his arm until you reached his shoulder.

"I want to fuck you" his gaze returned to your eyes, this time it seemed darker, more intense. You shivered a little at it.

Has he always been this direct?

"Here?" you murmured, feeling Yoongi's nose brush against yours. You couldn't help but hold your breath for a few moments.

"I can take you to your bed if you want, or would you prefer the kitchen?" he replied teasingly, kissing the corner of your lip. You closed your eyes, leaning even closer to him.

"I prefer my room, maybe next time it can be in the kitchen," you laughed softly, pulling Yoongi up to kiss him.

Kissing with him had always been rather slow and gentle, lazy even. He liked to savor every corner of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting so much more. That was how it had always worked so far at least.

You moaned softly the moment Yoongi slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you as if he was desperate. And he was. He hadn't had any contact with you for over four months after having a relationship that was too intimate to be forgotten overnight. Shit, he was still dreaming about you being under him, moaning and begging him to move harder because you were desperate to come.

He hadn't lied when he said he missed hearing you, he just left out the part where he made it clear that it was your moans that he had missed the most.

"Hold tight," he whispered into your shoulder, grabbing your thighs and lifting you into his arms. "Where's your room?"

"Second floor, back door" you took advantage of your position so you could kiss his shoulder, leaving a mark or two on his skin. You smiled as you noticed that his skin was still as sensitive as ever.

Yoongi climbed the stairs as carefully as he could, trying not to let you bump into anything.

You probably would have appreciated the detail if you weren't too busy nibbling on his neck.

It took him a while to open your door while you were still in his arms, but eventually he did. He came in as fast as he could, throwing you onto the bed as soon as he set foot in the room.

You squealed as you bounced on the bed, propping yourself up on your forearms to see Yoongi. He had started to take off his shirt. You were a little offended to see that he had no intention of letting you help him take it off.

For a second you thought you heard the sound of the front door closing, but the fact that Yoongi was shirtless in front of you was enough to make you let it go. It was probably the neighbors, you thought.

Yoongi threw his shirt back, not realizing that one of the pictures you had hanging on your wall was in the way. You both turned to look in its direction as you heard the glass shatter.

"Sorry, I didn't see that," he muttered, trying to get closer to it to pick it up quickly so he could continue without interruption. You stopped him, grabbing his wrist tightly.

"Leave it, it was getting old anyway, I've been wanting to change it for a while". You tugged at it until it was over you, completely covering your body.

"If you say so" he laughed softly, slipping his hands under your shirt and pulling them up until they were on your breasts. "I'm not stopping now, honey, so I hope what you said is true."

Jungkook took one last glance at his phone before he looked back at the door of your house. He bit his lower lip, hesitating whether to knock on the door or just open it with his keys. He looked at his cell phone again. You hadn't answered any of his messages for a week. At first he thought maybe you were a little sick, so he decided to give you space, but a whole week without talking to him? Whenever you got sick you always sent him a message asking him to buy you medicine, now you hadn't even done that. He was too worried.

He took a breath of air, reminding himself that he was only doing this to see if you were okay and if you needed anything. He pulled out his copy of your house key and opened the door. The first thing he noticed when he walked in were shoes that were much bigger than yours. They were black and looked fairly new. He frowned, trying to remember if you had any relatives or friends with such big feet.

He shook his head, reminding himself that this was not the important thing at the moment. He advanced into the living room, grimacing at the sight of dozens of tissues strewn everywhere. For a second he thought he was right and that you were just too sick to speak or write. His doubts were soon answered just after the sound of glass breaking against the floor alerted him.

He ran up the stairs, approaching your room.

His pace slowed as he got closer, remembering the shoes from earlier.

His heartbeat began to ring in his ears, booming so loudly that it was almost the only thing he could hear.

"I'm not going to stop now, honey, so I hope what you said is true," he heard a man say.

He had to swallow the knot in his throat to keep from making a sound. He took just a few more steps, just enough to see into your room. The nausea was almost instantaneous as the guy with the big shoes kissed your neck and slipped his hands under your shirt. Nor did it go unnoticed as you arched your back to get closer to his touch, as your lips parted, letting out soft whimpers and moans.

He ran his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes and stepping back clumsily. He wanted to erase that image from his head, but it was so hard to forget, especially when he could still hear you moaning for that guy. He turned around, walking down the stairs much more cautiously than at the beginning. He didn't want you to know he was here, that he had just seen you in a situation like that.

He turned around one last time, looking at the stairs in silence. He needed some air, and lots of beer.

"Yoongi" you gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly. At this point you cared little and nothing about hurting him.

"What?" he laughed teasingly, settling his fingers inside you. He'd forgotten how tight you were, how you'd made him in the past to take his cock? "Is that too much for you? When was the last time you fucked anyone? Was it me? Was it your little friend there?"

You weren't listening with full concentration to what he was telling you, you were too busy trying not to think about the stinging you were getting from feeling his fingers moving in and out of you in a slow but rough rhythm. You almost screamed when he separated them while still inside you.

"Why don't you answer? It's just my fingers," he murmured, his voice a little deeper than usual. His free hand took care of removing your shirt to free your tits. You couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight of them. "They're so beautiful" he whispered to himself, squeezing your right breast tightly, smiling as he heard you squeal, "and so sensitive, do you still play with them like you used to when we were together?"

"Y-yes" you groaned, clinging to Yoongi's wrist. He seriously knew how to use his long, cool fingers to his advantage.

"Who do you think of when you do that?" he moved down until he was face to face with your tits, starting to give little licks around your nipples.

"Does it matter?" you buried your nails in his wrist, trying to move your hips against his hand. It was starting to make you desperate how slow he was.

"Of course" he stuck a third finger inside you. From then on his pace only increased to the point where you needed to hold on to something to stay conscious. "Would you like me to fuck you thinking about someone else? I know you haven't done this with him before, he hasn't even kissed you, you may have touched yourself while thinking about him, but remembering the sensations I gave you," he bit one of your nipples, tugging at it with his teeth. It was much less delicate than you were used to. "And you don't know how annoying it is to think about you just using me, so yeah, I'd seriously like to hear who the fuck you were thinking about when you were touching yourself like I was."

You looked down, trying to see what Yoongi's expression was. You couldn't see much beyond his hair slightly stuck to his forehead. You thought about asking him about it, about trying to understand why he sounded so jealous, but it was hard to talk when his fingers kept moving inside you mercilessly.

"I did it with you in mind," you finally answered his question, feeling the knot in your stomach grow more and more unbearable. Yoongi might be being a little more rude than usual, but that didn't take away from the fact that he was still making you feel just as good as all the times before.

"Fuck" he growled under his breath, pulling his fingers out of you. you took that moment to try to calm down a bit.

You almost choked on your saliva when you saw Yoongi lick his fingers covered in your juices. "You're making it hard for me to control myself."

"Then don't" you whispered, taking Yoongi's hand and kissing his knuckles. This time it was he who was surprised to see you sucking on the same fingers he had dipped into you and licked. "I don't mind."

"Shit," he mumbled through his teeth, rubbing his member over his pants. You'd just given him a free pass to do whatever he wanted, hadn't you? or had he just misunderstood? "Are you sure?"

You leaned closer to him, taking his belt between your hands and removing it easily. You knew that specific one very well. "Very sure," you smiled at him, unbuttoning his pants and holding the waistband of them to pull them down.

"Wait," he held your wrists carefully, slipping a hand into the back pocket of his pants. You were quite surprised to see that he had a condom in it. "Now, where were we?" he finished removing his pants and underwear, leaving you in the same state as you.

Sometimes you seriously forgot how big this man was.

"You had a condom on? Really?" you teased him, lying down on the bed as he settled on top of you, "did you come with intentions of catching up or to fuck me?".

"I can do both at the same time" he opened the condom, taking it out and placing it over his member carefully, "Don't you think it's sexy to ask you how your work has been going while I pull on your hair and shove my cock all the way in?"

You laughed loudly, slapping his waist playfully, "I thought I was the only one who had that wet dream, I'm glad there are two of us."

You watched as a small smile formed on his lips as he rolled your body over until you were face down. You felt a shiver run down your back the second Yoongi began to leave marks on your shoulders and back.

"I missed you" he whispered against your skin, pressing his member against your entrance. You moaned softly as he ran his tip all over your femininity. "I missed hearing you scream my name." You thought maybe he would enter a bit at a time, just like all the other times you'd had sex. To your surprise, he didn't hesitate for a second to thrust his entire member in one thrust.

You didn't need any more to scream his name.

"Yes, just like that" he smiled, sticking his chest against your back, starting to ram into you hard. Each thrust was even deeper and faster than the last, and each one hit your sensitive spot. He knew your body so well, perhaps even better than you did. "I love the sound of your moans."

"Th-thank you" you laughed between moans, squealing as you felt Yoongi's hand pull your hair tightly. Your head was now resting on his shoulder and he had full access to your neck. He didn't hesitate to take advantage of that.

With the hand he still had free he decided to tease your sensitive clitoris, squeezing and pulling on it mercilessly. You trembled violently in his arms as he did so.

"See how you tremble," he growled teasingly, tugging at your hair again. He was fascinated by the sight. He loved seeing your tear streaked face and saliva running down the corner of your mouth. He knew that meant he was doing it right. "You've gotten so much more sensitive," he kissed your shoulder, letting go of your hair and resting his hand on your lower belly, smiling proudly as he felt his member bump against his hand across your skin. "You're so cute, drooling at the way I fuck you, I love it."

You moaned softly, squeezing his cock unconsciously. It felt so good to have him inside you again.

Yoongi grunted softly in response, lifting you off the bed and resting you on his chest. You gasped as you felt his hand gently squeeze your neck. He hadn't applied pressure, but you still felt yourself running out of air.

"Did you like that, honey? Is that why you squeezed my cock? Or is it because you want to come?" whispered Yoongi in your ear. You couldn't help but squirm. You felt so sensitive that just the brush of his lips against your neck made you drip on his cock. It was really embarrassing.

"Both of them" you looked at Yoongi from the corner of your eye. Shuddering as you felt his member bump more uncontrollably against your sensitive spot. "It felt so fucking good and..." you closed your eyes, resting your head on his shoulder, trying to regulate your breathing. "I seriously feel like I'm close. Shit" you moaned as soon as Yoongi pulled on your clit hard again.

"Then just come" he gently bites your ear, moving the hand he had on your belly up to your chest. At no point did he separate it from your body. "I've got you."

You relaxed a little at hearing him say that, but that moment of peace didn't last long.

His grip on your neck became slightly tighter, as did his thrusts. They were getting messier and rougher.

"Yoongi" you moaned, clinging to his wrist. You bite down hard on your inner lip, feeling your legs tremble uncontrollably.

He seemed to get your message. His finger began to roll over your clit, crushing it hard. The movement was pleasurable enough to cause the knot in your belly to untie and you cum hard on his cock.

You almost cried when you felt Yoongi keep ramming even after you had just had your orgasm.

"Just hold on a little longer, honey, just a little longer, you're doing it perfect" he whispered in your ear, moaning more and more desperately.

You were shaking uncontrollably as you felt his cock touch your G-spot again. You were still too sensitive, it burned to feel his member hit so deep. At least it was a pleasurable pain.

Yoongi's arms came down to wrap around your waist, clinging to you as if his life depended on it. It was only then that you noticed his cock twisting inside you as he released his cum into the condom.

Yoongi pulled out of you a few seconds after he finished. You were both panting, and you barely managed to stay upright when Yoongi let go of your waist.

"I can't feel my legs," you laughed between breathless gasps, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion slowly consume you.

"I'm sorry," Yoongi said, leaning back against you and resting his head on your chest.

"You're not sorry" you murmured with a smile, stroking his hair lazily.

"I'm not" he nodded, leaving a soft kiss on your collarbone.

You moaned with satisfaction, resting your head on Yoongi's chest.

"Buying a house with a bathtub was the best decision we've ever made," you took the sponge off the table, poured some soap on it and started rubbing it against your boyfriend's skin, "don't you think?

Yoongi just nodded, letting you clean his arm with the sponge. "I think next time we should get some candles. I walked past a shop the other day and saw that they were selling strawberry scented ones".

"Yes!" you turned to look at him, giving him the biggest smile you could. "I saw them too, but I wanted to ask you before I bought them."

Yoongi's hands floated to your waist, drawing invisible circles on your bare skin. "Let's go buy some tomorrow."

You nodded quickly, turning around so you could sit on his lap. "You're really sweet, you know that?" you giggled softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling your face close to his.

"I really don't understand why you think that," he murmured, resting his forehead against yours.

He closed his eyes as the smell of your shampoo hit his nostrils. He loved that smell, it was so good on you.

You kissed him softly, stroking his wet hair with your fingertips. "You know exactly why I say that, Yoonie," you hummed against his lips.

He just smiled, bringing his nose to yours, "Whatever you say," he whispered, kissing your forehead.

You couldn't help but feel an immense warmth flood your chest. You would definitely never regret contacting him a few years ago. It was the best damn decision you'd ever made in your life.

Materlist.

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