#AND I JUST RUSHED BACK TO MY APT- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

norikuna · 1 month ago

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(JUST MEET ME AT THE) APT! — gojo satoru minors dni. art by chitrartum on twt.

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (a) and let the show begin !

prologue. → your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. never drive, no matter how little alcohol is in you folks!!! never!!! making out, creampiè, hooking up with a stranger, ovèrstimulation, mildly rough sèx, gojo won't tell you what his job is

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. apt — rosé & bruno mars

a/n. reader lowkey a hater, i love vanilla vodka eggnog </3 i said i was gonna post on 02/12 and i kept my word, literally rushed to finished this before my clinical exams in the cardiac ward 😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope y'all stay healthy. your future surgeons are writing gojo smut on tumblr.com

mp3. don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now? sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. all you gotta do is meet me at the apartment (아파트) !

you think your friends would kill you if they knew this was how you were spending christmas eve. not at some glittering holiday party, nor tucked away in a snow-dusted cabin. but here, holed up in a dimly lit bar with an atmosphere so questionable it should come with a warning label alongside a health and safety audit.

the place had charm, if your definition of charm included scuffed floors, a jukebox stuck on 'last christmas' and a string of blinking lights that looked like they'd been thrown at the walls rather than hung. still, you'd swiped a couple of minty candy canes from a jar near the door, which felt like a win.

your phone sat resolutely off in your bag. self-preservation. no instagram, and no tacky mirror selfies from your scumbag ex with the same smirk he'd worn a month ago when you caught him cheating. with someone who had always been 'just a friend, babe!' you weren't keen to let that ruin the rest of the night, though if you were being honest, you had already let it ruin a good chunk of the month.

"another christmas vodka...sour, please," you squint at the messy chalkboard above the bar, where the christmas specials were scrawled in what would barely pass for handwriting.

the bartender gave a single, surly nod. he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here, preferably somewhere free of customers nursing post-breakup bitterness like a fine wine.

and so, you found yourself staring at the tall glass now sitting in front of you, studying the rosemary sprig that swayed lazily in the translucent red liquid. a few cranberries bobbed among the ice cubes like they were on some tiny festive raft.

"woah, that one's way too strong for me."

the voice interrupts your private session of wallowing. you turn your head, slowly, to take in the culprit. he-who-hath-disturbed-the-peace. a man sitting close enough to be annoying, but not close enough to invade your personal space.

it takes you a moment to process the stranger, mostly because of the brain freeze from your ill-timed gulp.

"i mean, it's not bad," you shrug, hoping to sound neutral enough that he leaves you be. but then because you just can't leave well enough alone, you gesture at the specials board, "better than...that, at least."

you jab a finger at the chalk-scrawled abomination: vanilla & peppermint vodka eggnog.

the man frowns, a sharp but somehow charming movement that's overshadowed by the dim lights, "hey, i ordered that one."

you blink like a startled bovine, before breaking into a laugh, "my bad. i'm sure it's really fuckin' delicious."

the stranger chuckles too, a soft and low sound that seems more genuine that it has any right to be, "i hope so. otherwise, this is gonna be a long night."

the man finally shifts, casting aside the dim shadows that lay over him, into the blinking string lights. broad shoulders framed by a dark, tailored jacket that hugs him like a second skin. his hair, startlingly white, was pushed back by — wait, was that a blindfold?

you stare longer than you should have, trying to piece the odd sight together. a cosplay? a k-pop idol wannabe, hoping to get recruited for the next bts tour? perhaps, he was blind, hard of sight? you start to open your mouth, wondering how to phrase the intrusive and awkward questions, but he beats you to it.

"i can see you just fine, y'know," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

your cheeks burn at the realisation that he's caught you gawking shamelessly. so you quickly turn back to your drink, suddenly very interested in the cranberries floating in the glass.

the bartender returns, sliding the stranger's drink onto the counter with an audible clink. it was the most obnoxious cocktail that you'd ever seen. a martini glass filled with frothy, pale liquid and crowned with a cinnamon stick that jutted out like the mast of some ridiculous holiday ship.

you watch, mildly horrified, as the man picks up the glass and downs half of it in one confident gulp. he sets it down a satisfied sigh, and a smack of his glossy lips, and you wrinkle your nose involuntarily at the sight.

"i swear it's good," he says with a laugh, catching your expression. his grin is wide, playful. and you find yourself smiling back despite your sour, gloomy mood.

he has a nice smile, you note. not forced nor smug, but genuine. framed by pale pink lips that curl up in an easy, natural way. it was strange though, to look at someone without seeing their eyes.

"i'm gojo, by the way," he offers, his voice smooth and lightly amused once more, as if he'd caught you studying him again.

your gaze drops to his hands, long and slender, tracing the rim of the martini glass. something about the way they move — elegant and deliberate, hold your attention a moment too long for propriety. you quickly snap your focus back to his face, "what brings you here, gojo?"

gojo shrugs, and you can almost imagine him rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, though you doubt his ire is directed at you, "work, i guess. or maybe i just got bored of going to work."

"they're working you hard, yeah?" you ask, trying for sympathy. employers loved squeezing their workers dry during the holidays. your own boss was proof enough of that, running the office like a sweatshop for santa's unpaid elf labour.

"something like that," gojo says with a scoff, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "what about you? what brings you here? it's christmas eve, isn't it?"

you sigh, the weight of gauche embarrassment suddenly pressing down as the words spill out before you can stop them, "my ex-boyfriend cheated on me."

gojo's lip curls, the kind of expression that balances perfectly between pity and disgust, "that sucks," he offers. profound and wise, you have to agree as he continues, "you jus' find out or something?"

the question makes you cheeks heat, and you fiddle with the edge of your drink, "no, i've known all month." you gesture vaguely towards your purse, where your phone sat like an unsealed pandora's box, "but he posted...on instagram. and stuff. i'm still, y'know, getting over it."

gojo makes a thoughtful clicking noise with his tongue, "ah, see, i don't do social media. but that sounds rough."

you let out a weak huff, "yeah, well...now i just feel like a loser. my friends told me to go out and have fun, and here i am..." you trail off, downing the rest of your cranberry vodka in a single, decisive gulp. the sting hits your throat, sharp and sour, and you grimace at the burn.

gojo frowns slightly, leaning in just enough that you can hear how his voice softens, "i don't think you're a loser." the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, pulling your gaze back to him, "it's fair to wallow."

his words hang in the air, and you find yourself smiling, albeit thinly, "that's...really nice of you to say."

gojo hums thoughtfully, "i meant it, i promise. but i can't exactly say i've been there, never really dated anyone."

you blink, openly gaping at the man, "really? you're joking."

it was hard to wrap your head around that. even with the odd blindfold, everything about him screamed 'pounce-worthy'. the broad frame, the charming smile, the striking white hair that looked like it belonged in a kérastase commercial.

gojo laughs at your incredulous expression, "same old work and stuff," he explains with a casual shrug. then his grin fades, tone shifting just enough for you wonder why that feels as though the clouds have covered the light of the moon outside, "always got in the way."

"at least you never had to deal with a breakup," you offer, trying to find some weak, silver lining.

gojo frowns, his pale complexion now tinged with a faint red flush that even the dim bar lights couldn't disguise. was he really that much of a lightweight, or was the eggnog's amaretto content deceptively boozy?

he sighs dramatically, "a friend once left me outside a kfc in shinjuku. then he became a murderer and a cult leader. that felt like a breakup."

"huh," you murmur, staring at the man with a mixture of amusement and faint alarm, wondering if you'd seen any cult leaders on the evening news lately. no, nothing save for the occasional incorrect weather report, a friendly good-looking priest running some scam association, and news reports about an octopus that could predict the lottery, "that's - well, okay..."

you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not, but gojo seems to shake himself free of the odd reverie. he's running his hand through his shock of white hair, and his grin has returned, slower and a touch softer, "still, your ex must've been crazy. letting go of a pretty girl like you?"

the words land with surprising weight, considering they come from a stranger in a sleazy bar, but it leaves you momentarily stunned. you can feel a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip before you manage to get a grip on yourself.

"wow," you laugh, feigning composure as you sip the last remnants of your drink, "smooth."

gojo's smile is wider now, "hah, i call it like i see it," and his lips now curl upwards as he leans in, "and i'm serious. if i had someone like you..."

you laugh again, but this time it's far more unsteady. you wonder if the cranberry vodka is playing with your head, "big words for someone who's never dated. should i be impressed, gojo?"

gojo's chuckle is a deep sound that vibrates in his chest, "i know a good thing when i see it. you don' need to date to know what you want. and i think i want you."

your stomach does a little flip, and you feel all rationality being pounded out of you just from staring at his unfairly gorgeous hands rest on sturdy thighs, "you do flattery well, i'll give you that."

"oh, i don't know about that," gojo says, fiddling with the stem of his glass, "but what'dya say we get out of here? how about my place?"

you blink slowly, and you're aware that your heart (and...nether regions) have already composed an answer before your mind has, "what if you're a serial killer? you're not about to silent night, deadly night me, are you? you haven't killed someone have you?"

for a moment, the man stills but then gojo leans back, "smart girl. asking the right questions. but no, i can at least promise that i'm not a criminal."

you hesitate just for a beat, the words lingering on your tongue, before you let out a breath and shrug, "fine. where's your place?"

"azabu," gojo replies without missing a beat, his tone smooth, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

you gape once more, blinking as you try to process the information. azabu? as in tokyo's ritziest neighbourhood, where a one-bedroom apartment could cost you more than most people's yearly salary? the kind of place where the floors are made of marble, and everyone's shoes are more expensive than your entire wardrobe?

gojo, ridiculously handsome despite looking like a circus runaway, too charming for his own good, and not the type you'd expect to find in a cheap downtown dive bar. definitely not on a christmas eve, at least.

for a split second, you wonder how a man like him even ended up in a place like this. maybe it's some kind of self-imposed penance. or he likes to keep things low-key when he's pretending not to be rich? maybe he's looking to cosplay a succession character?

whatever it is, it's working. not only does gojo have a face carved from marble, now you've got a solid ticket into seeing what a neighbourhood for the top one percent really looks like beyond it's wealthy exterior. maybe, you'll bring back a souvenir.

you wonder whether there's a group of small emotions standing around inside your head, inside-out style. glaring at you as if you're incapable of making good and rational decisions.

well fuck that, you gather yourself and shrug off the small wave of nerves, and loop your purse strap around your finger, "alright," you say, "let's get out of here then."

you don't miss at how the adam apple of gojo's throat bobs for a second, before he downs the rest of his drink in one go, "let's get outta here then."

you follow him out into the cold, your breath fogging in front of you as you try to focus, but the man is tall, like ridiculously so. but when you reach the curb, he turns to face you again, a frown marring his face.

"so, i have a small confession."

i changed my mind and i find you repulsive.

i was paid by your ex to do this, and now i've done enough to get my money.

i'm a serial killer.

you don't know which possibility is worse, "huh, a confession? what is it now?"

gojo chuckles, lifting a hand to the back of his neck, as though he's about to spill a dark secret into the night air, "i don't have a car."

"you've got to me kidding me. how'd you even get down here?"

gojo shrugs, a casual and almost lazy movement. and you feel your gaze lingering on his shoulders. broad, impossibly wide, the dark jacket hugging him in all the right places, like it was tailor-made to showcase just how much he filled it out.

"someone dropped me off. ages ago," like it was the most normal and rational explanation in the world.

your own laugh is short, a little disbelieving, but you pull your silver keys from your purse, "well, i guess i'll have to drive then. but what would you have done if i hadn't been here to save the day?"

gojo steps to the side, opening your own car door for you with a small flourish and exaggerated bow that makes your heart jolt again, "probably teleport back home. maybe fly, since the skies look clear."

what a weird guy. hot, but weird. he seems like the type to dress up with a fake beard and show up as gandalf at the next lord of the rings fan convention.

in the driver's seat beside him, you catch yourself staring too long. your gaze slipping over a model's jawline, the white of his hair being held up by the blindfold. even his vaguely expensive scent is disorienting, pleasant like pine and blackcurrant. but it's also hard not to be amused when he's furrowing teeth into plush pink lips out of concentration, pressing an address into your cracked gps screen.

well, merry christmas to you.

gojo's place is well...how do you say this? gorgeous doesn't quite begin to cover it. he leads you into the building with the ease of someone who knows every inch of it, tossing a casual smile over his shoulder as he swipes a key card to unlock the private elevator, "i tend to move around a bit. or stay in different places. keeps life exciting, don't you think?"

you step into the elevator alongside him, the polished mirrors reflecting the soft glow of gold accents and sleek, modern lines. his hand hovers over the control panel before he presses the button for the top floor. of course, it's the penthouse.

"you move around a lot?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, "what, like a restless billionaire or something?"

gojo smiles, leaning casually against the steel as the elevator begins its smooth ascent, "now you're exaggerating."

the elevator finally dings, and gojo steps aside, offering an exaggerated bow as he gestures for you to exit, "after you, my fair maiden."

you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but there's something so endearing and charming about how he pulls it off, especially when paired with the unfair symmetry of his face.

floor to ceiling windows dominate the far wall, revealing a jaw dropping panorama of tokyo's skyline. the city stretches out in a glittering sea of lights, with the tokyo tower glowing a golden exclamation point against the velvet night sky. the interior is just as impressive, with polished wood floors that gleam in the warm light and a glass dining table that sits beneath a sculptural chandelier. that same faint scent of blackberry and pine lingers in the air, heady almost.

behind you, gojo strolls with an easy and languid grace, tossing his jacket onto an artisan leather armchair. beneath it, his sky blue dress shirt clings just right and rolled up to reveal forearms faintly dusted with pale hair. you think you've momentarily forgotten how words work, and you avert your gaze quickly. though not before catching the faint smile on his lips.

"not bad, huh?" gojo says, heading to the open kitchen as though he's unaware of the effect he's having on a rational and sensible mind such as yourself, "it's no dive bar, but i'll do."

you shake your head, bewildered. trying to process how someone you met in a dingy bar could live somewhere that looks like it belongs in architectural digest. even down to the odd, ancient looking pieces that scatter the wide living room. weird looking artifacts of some sort. maybe he's also a collector? go figure.

"not bad?" you repeat, incredulous, "gojo, this place is incredible."

the man laughs, opening a sleek fridge to grab a bottle of water, "i have good taste," he says with mock modesty, his tone teasing as long fingers twist off the cap, "and a thing for gorgeous views. though, between you and me, i'm not great with heights. ironic, i suppose. paying a fortune for a view i'd rather not get too close to."

he waves a hand vaguely towards the windows, the blindfold still firmly in place.

"so, what's the deal? did you win the lottery, or inherit a fortune. or are you some kinda secret agent who moonlights as a barfly?"

gojo lifts the bottle in mock toast, "let's just say i'm very good at what i do."

you arch a brow, crossing your arms and ignoring the warm flush creeping up your neck, "and what exactly is that?"

"oh, you know. standard stuff. international intrigue, thwarting evil creatures. i even saved a kitten from a tree the other day."

"right, because nothing screams the next member of the avengers like eggnog in a seedy bar."

gojo leans casually against the counter, "even the avengers need a holiday drink now and then. don't knock it." but then he gestures towards the sleek couch, "wait, you can make yourself comfortable, y'know. i'd hate for my guest to think i'm a terrible host."

"terrible host? no, but a mystery man —"

before you can finish, your foot catches on something hard, and you stumble forward with an undignified yelp. gojo reacts instantly, how does he move that fast, and his arm is shooting out to steady you. but glorious gravity and magnificent momentum has other plans.

both of you crash onto the couch, and you find yourself sprawled unceremoniously across his lap. gojo's laugh rumbles low in his chest, and you can feel the warmth of it underneath your palms as you steady yourself, "well, that's one way to get comfortable," he murmurs, voice teasing as his large hand lingers lightly on the curve of your waist.

you prop yourself up slightly, cheeks burning, and glance back at the offending object. your brows knit together when you spot what looks suspiciously like a katana gleaming under the soft light.

"did i just trip on a — hey, what the hell is that?"

gojo interrupts, smoothly extending a long leg to nudge that suspicious object under the nearby coffee table before you can finish, "nothing important," he says breezily, the motion so quick you almost think you imagined it.

his focus shifts back to you, almost guilty, but his fingers are pressing divots into the fabric of your top, "now, where were we? hi."

you blink, caught off guard by how strange it is to feel the searing heat of someone's gaze underneath a blindfold, impossibly intent, "hi yourself," you manage.

for a moment, neither you nor the gorgeous man under you move, and the world feels strangely airless.

but your fingers twitch against the fine linen of his shirt. and before you can second-guess yourself, you reach your hand up to the edge of the silk fabric over his face and you ask, "can i take this off?"

gojo tilts his head, like it's a genuine consideration and you catch the faintest flicker of hesitation. it's fleeting, replaced by a crooked smile as he nods, "go ahead, sweetheart."

your hand rests lightly on the silk, hesitant for only a second before tracing its way to the back of his head. your fingers brush through impossibly soft strands of white hair, and his breath hitches when you find the knot tied neatly to the base of his skull.

you wonder what manner of man gojo is, letting himself be stitched undone by a stranger. but with care, you undo the knot, working deftly and clutching the fabric as you pull the blindfold away.

the blindfold slips free, and for a moment, you're certain you've forgotten how to breathe. bright, piercing blue eyes. framed by thick white lashes blink up at you. the intensity of such an unearthly gaze is softened by something more vulnerable, almost shy. nervous even.

"wow," you murmur without thinking, the word spilling out as gojo's expression shifts, an unguarded openness replacing the playful smirk that you've seen all evening.

your earlier assessment echoes in your mind: k-pop reject wannabe. the recent memory now feels like quite the injustice, a careless slight against a face that defies easy description. each detail of his face is striking, as if some divine hand had taken special care to sculpt him from the fabric of time and space itself.

gojo seems to sense your analysis, and you're sure that he's parted his lips to speak, but whatever he was about to say falters. that faint flush, pale-red like vermillion watercolour bleeding across a canvas, blooms across his cheeks. gojo's hazy gaze flickers for a second, and it sends a thrill through you. he's affected by this, by you.

it's hard to resist the slow smile that curves your lips, light and playful if only to mask the way your own heart is racing, "are you seriously shy now, gojo?"

gojo's expression shifts again almost immediately, as if that subtle invulnerability has been replaced by something sharper, almost indignant. he sits up a little straighter, the movement making you acutely aware of how the hard planes of his body feel beneath you.

"shy? no," gojo says, his voice steady but edged with some need to defend his honour, "i just...don't usually do this. that's all."

there's a sincerity in his words, an almost begrudging honesty that takes you by surprise. you tilt your head, as your murmur, "i don't either."

before you can second-guess yourself, you tilt your head down. pressing your lips to gojo's in a featherlight kiss. his taste is intoxicating, honey and sweet grapes mingling with a hint of that ridiculous vanilla drink from earlier. you pull back almost as quickly as you leaned in, testing the waters.

but your breath catches when you see that the blue of his eyes has deepened, darkened. and his lips, pink-blush and slightly parted, form a quiet and stunned oh!

"cool," gojo manages, his voice rougher than you expected, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him swallow hard.

"huh, cool?" you echo, your amusement bubbling over, "that's it? that's all you've got?"

gojo's grip on your waist tightens, and his hands are now splayed over your spine. anchoring you to him, as his mouth curves into something sly, though his flushed cheeks betray his composure, "compliments to the chef?"

you shift slightly, pressing more of your weight firmly into his lap. though not yet close enough to situate yourself over his groin, delighting in the way gojo's blush spreads down his neck, staining his skin a shade reminiscent of ripe berries swirling in cream.

you can feel gojo's attention as much as you can see it, how his own gaze lingers, deliberate and unhurried. taking you like a masterpiece that deserves more than a cursory glance. the hand that had been steady on your back shifts, his fingers threading through your hair. he watches as the strands slip and fall beneath his touch.

"thought you said you wanted me, gojo," you tease, though you're certain your voice is betraying the way your pulse is doing its best impression of the macarena in your jugular, "are y'gonna do something or not?"

gojo's gaze snaps back to you, a flicker of something far more intense passing through those impossibly blue eyes. full of hunger, need even. the hand in your hair slides away, only to settle at your jaw. it's warm and steady, his thumb brushing slightly over the plush of your bottom lip.

"i do want you," gojo says, his voice low and steady and maddeningly genuine, "want you to kiss me again. and again. as many times as you want until i forget my own name."

"gojo —"

"satoru," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly, stripped of any previous swagger. it's unsteady and raw, affected in a way that excites you. sends a dark heat curling low between your thighs, "you can call me that."

"satoru," you repeat softly, letting the syllables fall from your lips, unfurling in the most hazy way.

something within the man shifts. his hand tightens on your waist, dragging you closer in a way that punches the air from your lungs. right over -

oh. the thick, curve of his erection straining against slacks that probably cost more than your monthly salary. it's deliberate, almost desparate at how the invisible thread snapped inside him. unravelled the careful composure he's been clinging to until now.

"go on," gojo murmurs, his voice dark with need, "kiss me again, please."

you lean closer, eyes flickering to his lips, and your pulse roaring in your ears, "who would i be to deny you any wish, satoru?" the words come out more reverent that you'd expected, as if your entire world has been tilted off its axis.

and then you kiss him, hard. desparate. as if his lips are your birthright, a homeland to claim. and gojo's kissing you back, carrying a sweetness that seems both foreign and familiar. in an instant, the weight of another man, a dreary haze in your past, vanishes. gojo is suddenly everything you didn't know you needed, vibrant and electrifying.

"let me know if it's too much," gojo breathes against your lips, his voice shaky as if he's trying to tether himself to the earth. but your kiss deepens, frantic and unrestrained. his mouth moves against yours with a hunger that sends sparks down your spine, and you suddenly realise you quite like the taste of vanilla when it's dripping from his open kisses.

you pull away, for every human needs air. but the sight before you has you clenching your thighs desperately around the bulge where you sit atop. gojo's gaze is heavy, full of that desparate longing that makes your chest ache. his lips are swollen, a soft cherry hue from your kisses. and strands of white hair fall over his blue eyes.

"look what you've done to me, fuck. miss you already," gojo murmurs, and before you can respond, he surges forward, hands pressing against your face with the intensity of a storm. one hand reaches to find the nape of your neck, letting you surrender to the heat of this touch.

you crave more, so much more from gojo, who's taking you in like you're his last breath, his final indulgance. it's as if he's found a new devotion in you, ready to worship you at the alter of your false godhood. but before you can part your mouth to tell him exactly what you and where, gojo's hands are already sneaking under your top, brushing against the trembling skin of your torso.

his teeth are biting down on your lip, leaving you dizzy. and gasping, and so damp in your panties as the fabric of your top is peeled away, and you're left shivering, fighting against the cold of the december air. you find yourself pressing harder into the warmth of his chest, letting the swell of your chest press flat against him.

"shoulda' turned the heat on before we came in," gojo murmurs, breathless as his lips hover a mere centimetre away from yours, "got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart. i'll keep you warm."

"didn't t-think i'd spend christmas eve like this," you gasp, your head lolling to the side as gojo presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft arc of your neck, sensitive even to the cool air.

"no?" gojo's reply is breathy, almost frantic as if he's fumbling in the heat of the moment and has little grasp over the words tumbling out of his mouth, "neither did i. but this? b-better than any fuckin' mission they could've sent me on."

you cock your head, feeling the heat of his clothed cock underneath your thighs, "m-mission, huh? what are you talking about - mmph!" but the rest of the question never escapes your lips for it's swallowed up by another one of gojo's candied kisses.

his rough hands work deftly, finding the clasp of your bra with ease. a pretty crimson thing, almost sheer as it caught the light. and in the centre, a tiny satin bow sat like the final touch on a perfectly wrapped gift. you had only worn it half-heartedly earlier in the morning, some forced christmas cheer for your dreary day ahead.

the look on gojo's face was anything but composed, staring at your cupped tits like you'd knocked the air out of him and his chest rose and fall as though he were remembering how to breathe. in a single fluid motion, your bra is unhooked. the faint metallic click barely audible over the pounding in your chest and he's tossing it aside with a casual flick, his focus entirely on you.

you find yourself mesmerised by his eyes, those swirling pools of blue that seem to have stolen fragments of the sky itself, clouds brushed into cerulean depths with strokes of syrupy smoothness. they're breathtaking, but the thought shatters as gojo's canines graze the flesh of your breasts, a sharp and teasing nip that pulls a gasp from your lips. leaves you rocking sharply against his erection, making him throw his head back, ragged.

the playful string blooms into a flush of heat, and gojo's at it again, his mouth working to leave faint red marks in its wake. you squeal, half in surprise and half in helpless laughter (and entirely in a lusty haze) but gojo only pulls back enough to murmur, "what? can't help myself."

but then he peers at you abruptly, his lips parted as he catches his breath, "wait. do you wanna —?" and gojo tilts his snowy hair towards the shadowy doorway that leads out of the living room, the implication clear even through his panting.

you nod, breathless, "yeah, jus' help me up."

without hesitation, a strong arm slides around your waist, and before you know it, you're being swept into a semi-bridal carry, and your head is resting against the fabric of his dress shirt. not a bad feeling, one you could get used to.

at the doorway, gojo lets out a low 'shit!', nudging the door open with his foot. the faint sound of clattering follows as he kicks something out of the way. you glance down from your entirely too comfortable vantage point, spotting a smattering of cheap tinsel, all glittering in metallic silver and gold, tangled with round baubles that glisten faintly under the dim light.

some have little smears of glue, and uneven glitter patches, as if crafted by unsteady hands, but with earnest effort.

"you big on christmas or something?" you tease, delighting in how the tips of his ears light up like nose of a famous reindeer.

gojo freezes for a moment, almost sheepish as he clears a path, clearly trying to look as macho as possible as he gingerly pushes aside a string of green lights, "made those for my students," he mutters, "thought they'd like them in the classroom tomorrow."

your laugh grows louder, and gojo's brows furrow, his tone growing defensive, "it's a nice surprise for the classroom!"

"i'm not making fun of you!" you insist, leaning up to press a gentle, soothing kiss to the hollow of his collarbone, "it's sweet. i think it's really nice, actually. wait, you're a teacher?"

gojo's mouth quirks up in a faint smile, "something like that," he says cryptically, finally clearing a decent and hazard-free path into a sleek, and clean bedroom. it's all modern space, all clean lines in shades of cream and white, and navy.

gojo sets you down gently, and the plush fabric cradles you as your back lands on fresh linen. and for a quiet, tender moment, you're both caught in the stillness. gojo kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on each of your thighs as if he's anchoring himself there.

his gaze is steady, content, maybe even adoring in a way that feels too intimate for someone who you barely know. there's a warmth in his expression, like he's savouring the sight of you, searching for something — and he's found exactly what he's hoped for.

almost without thinking, you lift a hand, cupping the sides of his face. his skin is warm beneath your palm, soft with the faintest hint of pale stubble that seems to fade into his skin. the moment your hands makes contact, gojo leans into your touch instinctively, his white lashes fluttering closed.

"hey, 'toru," you murmur softly, "y'still with me?"

gojo's eyes snap open at the sound of that, sharp and bright, as if the nickname itself has sparked a challenge in him. a low and almost frustrated sound escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses a feather-light kiss to the inside of your knee.

you don't miss at how his teeth sink into his bottom lip again, worrying and working the plush flesh like he's trying to steady himself. spreading your weeping thighs aside, as his gaze is fixed on something. intense, unwavering. the sheer focus of it making heat creep up your neck.

at how he must be staring hungrily at damp, sheer red fabric that clings to the outline of your cunt. at how it must shimmer almost translucently now, the sticky slick of your arousal enhancing the gloss, making your panties glisten under the light.

you're feeling an unfamiliar kind of shy under the weight of his attention, at how he must see how the fabric clings closely to your puffy, swollen folds — the delicate weave exposing the shape of your taut pussy, practically weeping for his touch.

you needn't have asked, for gojo was already diving into deliver.

he's gliding his index finger over your dripping pussy, letting the tangy syrup sink onto his fingers, leaning in to press a sweet, almost innocent kiss to your clothed cunt, "she seems desperate for me, don'tcha think, heh?"

the sound of the fabric ripping is sharp and wet, a squelching and almost fleshy tone, a sound that's both soft and sharp to the blood rushing between your ears. a strained tear of your beautiful panties, leaving cool air to gently leave a kiss of its own upon your cunt.

you gape at him, a bit too stunned to find coherent words, "hey, what the f-fuck! those were like super expensive!"

gojo rolls his eyes, the kind of look that has a bit too much attitude for someone who's practically begging on his knees for a taste of you, "don't get all huffy on me, sweetheart. 'm gonna buy you more, is tha' alright?"

"i'll r-remember that, satoru," you murmur, giving a sharp tug at his white strands, "you gon' have to give me your number now."

gojo shudders, the muscles in his back rippling underneath his tight shirt, "was already gonna," and he's back to pressing soft, kitten licks to your now exposed folds, small circles over your throbbing clit.

you buck your canting hips closer to the heat of his mouth, to where the pink tip of his teasing tongue peeks out of a pretty mouth, "satoru, c'mon. can't you just, fuck—"

you sharply cry out as he presses his mouth forward, a sudden surge of heat jolting through you. burying himself deep, his nose brushing against the sweet, syrup that coats your pussy, and the rhythmic, wet movements of his tongue send shivers through your entire being.

"mhm, jus' as sweet as you look, baby," gojo gasps, swirling and flicking his tongue, teasing you with every deliberate patter of the muscle near your winking entrance. so messy, slick and you're not sure where he ends and you begin as it all glides together carnally.

gojo seems languidly tipsy, just from munching through the gloss of your cunt, far more intoxicated from your taste than any cheap christmas liquor. he alternates between pushing his tongue past the ring of your tight walls, and then wrapping his lips around the searing pulse of your clit, leaving your hips shaking and dragging over his mouth, smearing yourself over his chin.

you're fisting delicate white locks with fierce urgency, and he hisses and then chuckles into your pussy, "tch! ease up there for me, yeah? jus' move your hips like you were doin' before," and you comply, angling yourself better so he can flatten his tongue against your folds, jaw grinding deeper into you "hah, yeah, just like that."

"taking good care of you though, aren't i? wait, say it. say that 'm making you feel good," and he's bullying a long finger into your gummy walls, clingy and sopping, "say 'm making you feel better than a-anyone ever has," and you just mewl as your arousal must surely be dripping down his forearms, staining the cuffed sleeve of his shirt as he takes your sweet juices down his throat.

there's stars beginning to twinkle at the edge of your vision, and you know you must be close, for your heart is practically dancing a heavy beat against your ribcage, and you suddenly push his mouth away, watching as a clear strand of spit or your slick forms a taut bridge between his mouth and your folds.

"w-wait, satoru, s-stop."

gojo's head lifts, eyes blinking as if coming out of a faze. but then, like a switch, something sharp flickers behind his gaze and concern floods in. his thin brows furrow slightly, glossy lips parting as he reaches out, as if to steady your hips, "you okay, sweetheart? what's wrong?"

your heart stutters, pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. you try to steady your breathing, but the tremour in your fingertips betray you as they gently slide through your hair, the silky strands tangling around your hand.

"nothin' wrong, 'toru. but i was gonna cum," and gojo's face, still flushed and soft with arousal, splits into a shy, amused grin.

"hah, i know. that's what i wanted," he's close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your aching cunt, but you shake your head again.

"feels unfair, wanna see you too. wan' you to cum in me,"

you watch, almost in awe, as a low and guttural sound escapes gojo satoru, raw and unfiltered. gojo runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes dark with something dangerously close to hunger.

"you sure?" and his voice is hoarse, unsure despite his roaming gaze. you nod, your hands digging into his shoulder, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desparate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath.

his shaky laugh of disbelief only makes you more aroused, whining for him to hurry up, and before you know it, he's standing up, towering over your boneless form on the sheets.

"how could i deny you anything?" he murmurs, echoing your earlier words. gojo's hands reach for the hem, the fabric shifting as he pulls it over his head, revealing a milky expanse of toned skin, smooth and taut over a set of abs that should easily land him on a gq list.

his waist is slender, defined in all the right places, and the soft taper of muscles make your breath catch. but the soft white trail of hair that reaches under his waistband makes your cunt clench.

"y'seem happy with the view, don'tcha?" gojo's voice is teasing, the cocky smirk tugging at his lips, but you can hear the impatience threading his tone now too. he's not as in control as he lets on, his hands now making quick work of his belt, leaving your mouth dry when he finally pushes his black boxers down.

you should have known that his cock would be as pretty and unfairly gorgeous as the rest of him. he's circling the strawberry-red tip, glowering and throbbing, right over your gathered slick, coating it and smacking the mushroom head in a thwack! over your poor clit, leaving you jolting as he laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly once more.

"jus' look at me, yeah?" his drawl is slow, lazy and so ruined. at the first inch of his throbbing cock that slips through your walls, he looks utterly undone. a mess of sharp edges softened by something far more primal and raw.

gojo's head tips back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as the moonlight cascades over you, "hey, sweetheart, 's not too much, yeah?"

hazy blue eyes bore into you, and for a brief moment, in the time it takes for the lightning to strike the earth, you swear that his eyes glow. almost radiant and jewel-like, with cerulean fractals shimmering as if they're emitting life of their own. perhaps its simply the electrifying stretch of inches that's rendering you to hallucinate, whining as your nails find purchase in milky skin and rippling shoulders.

"i-it's big, 'toru," you pant, feeling him almost shudder at the clipped name again, as he grips the base of his cock to bully the final inch in, sighing in contentment as he finally bottoms out, with a wet pop!

gojo looks feral like this, heaving a breath through his mouth as though the air is being taken from him from every second he spends stretching you out on his fat shaft, "hah, 'm glad, i'm so glad i met you tonight, sweetheart. fuck, fuck, y'feel i-incredible."

he's pushing your thighs further back, running his hands over the plush skin, leaving bruising red prints that won't disappear tomorrow as you moan, wanton into his open mouth, letting gojo run his lips down your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

you're practically now folded in half under the bulk of his weight, feeling stars collide in absolutely astrophysical ways, impaled further on the long and thick length of his cock, "in so deep, s-satoru."

seems that gojo is a man of little mercy, for he seems only all the more invigorated by your squeals, drawing his torso back to watch the hypnotic smack of skin on skin, of your slick and creamy froth creating fresh rings over his pistoning cock.

he's entirely out of control, as you feel your body go limp from the pleasure shooting through every nerve and pore.

depraved.

you don't realise you might have let that slip out loud, so dizzy in your cockdrunk haze because gojo's suddenly ramming himself roughly in you, as though he was desperate to have his cock kiss your cervix, to feel for every divot and nook of your cunt's walls.

"d-depraved, hah. people call me, fuck, p-people call me a lotta things, sweetheart," and gojo's so good with it, letting your pussy have not even one moment to take reprieve, having you feel each vein and bulge of his cock, "but depraved is n-new."

the hand that was dancing over your thighs flies to your swollen, aching clit. practically glistening for his attention, and his attention you did receive, "right, t-there! 'toru, mmph!" you're trying to splay your legs wider, giving his quick hand more room to swirl tight circles where you needed him most.

your double-vision gaze lingers on the ripple of his muscles, the way his arms flex and shift as he seems intent on angling you just right for him to drill his cock over and over, at some freakish and feverish pace, "y'so good, gojo," you purr, and your nails curl against his arms, pressing just enough to leave tiny crescents in his skin, the faint dampness of his exertion clinging to him, "s-so strong!"

something shifts. the glow is back, electric blue flooding his eyes like crackling storm clouds. it's almost unnerving, this unearthly brightness, as if he's some ancient god wrapped up in human skin, and you've just stumbled into a divine revelation.

gojo stills for the briefest moment, the thick head of his cock snagging on your puffy folds as he draws himself almost entirely out. the absence of motion makes you whine, an airy and impatient sound escaping your throat. that hesitation feels like a tease, like a string that's been pulled so taut, before he finally dives forward, capturing your mouth in a messy, heated kiss. sloppy in its disregard.

"s-so strong, huh?" gojo's voice is rough, shaky, as though he's trying to centre himself but your tight pussy holds him in hypnotic sway, "y-you think so? think i'm the strongest?" his lips brush yours as he speaks, and there's something almost boyish and charming in the way that he seems to be fishing for a compliment, despite the low heat in his voice.

you pull back from his wet, spit-stringed lips. just enough to wrap your hands around his neck and push him closer, deeper into you as he gutturally groans, "if i s-say yes, are y'gonna keep showing off?"

gojo's laugh is short, breathless, "y-yeah, wanna see?"

he makes quick work of pushing himself back into you, pumping himself so far in that your slick must be painting and sopping the white hairs at the base of his cock almost translucent, "o-oh my god, 'toru, fuck, oh my god!" the stretch has your head spinning, as if the skies are parting above you, and you're melodramatically left to see the light of divinity as gojo bucks his hips harshly into you. as if he's too far gone, needs to prove himself to you with a good fuck.

"you h-have to say it," gojo stutters, his words tumbling out so quickly, like rough gravel, "say it, fuck, c'mon. say i'm — say i'm the s-strongest. you have to, hnghh, god. please, jus' agree, okay?" his voice is cracking, that cocky veneer entirely shattered under the weight of his rambling desperation as he practically rummages through your sopping insides, "y-you feel it right, i mean, you can feel me — i mean."

a high whine escapes your throat as his pace becomes almost olympian, and you wonder faintly how you haven't managed to sprain a muscle or break a bone yet, how he hasn't managed to shatter something with the sheer pace and force of how gojo satoru fucks, "hah, 'toru. i'm —"

"close? g-god, i hope so. 's what i want. nothing, like n-nothing feels better than this right?" his words are falling out of him in a messy, pussydrunk rush, his eyes flickering between your face and down to where your pussy lips are bulged around his shaft, "so good, right? the b-best thing you've ever —"

you truthfully don't even hear the rest of his words, blood absolutely roaring and rearing in your ears, your ribcage as you feel the tight coil snap, letting out short, slurred snaps of his name when you cum. as he doesn't quite let up on smacking his hips right against your ass, "s-satoru, 's getting s-sensitive, oh, fuck. fuck!"

he's suddenly whining, with pleading and erratic blue eyes chasing after you, sloppily pushing down so he can gasp and pant into your open mouth, before capturing you in a heart-stopping kiss as he finally gets milked dry by your pulsing and fluttering walls. in awe of how creamy white is practically leaking out of you, dripping a stringy trail over the flesh of your thighs.

you're agape at how utterly fucked he looks right now, though you're certain you do not look much better as fat tears prick at your eyes, streaming past your ears from the overstimulation, "s-still fillin' me up, 'toru. god, do ya always cum this much?"

at first, you don't even get a response from gojo who just sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, almost as if he's trying not to cry out, but then he's back to circling your clit with a rough hand, "makin' me sound like some kinda whore, s-sweetheart. 'n and i told you. don't do this m-much."

and now he's slowing down, pleasurably painful bucks of his hips keeping glossy, white seed in you. ensuring that it coats your entire entrance, "an' it's not my fault that she," and here, he gives your clit a small smack! grinning like a madman, "n-not my fault that she's so, hah, addictive."

each tight circle of his hand on your clit sends you hurtling into yet another orgasm, one that has you begging gojo for mercy, repreive, for more. an orgasm that has him whispering the sweetest nothings into your ear, "d-don't worry, gotcha like this. gonna let you rest n-now, jus' gotta relax for me."

by the time he's slipping his still somehow hard cock out of your creamed cunt, you can feel exhaustions heavy and caring hands caress you, rendering your body limp and boneless. your eyes heavy and hazy, but you can feel a soft ghost of gojo's kiss over the shell of your ear, "h-hope y'still here in the morning, sweetheart. don't leave, yeah?"

the morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and despite the ache in your limbs that cricks your bones, you drag yourself out of bed. christmas day, after all. you've thrown on gojo's dress shirt from last night, snug enough to flutter around your hips, but oversized enough around the shoulders to let you drown in it.

it's cozy though, and even the chilly air feels refreshing against the warmth clinging to you. gojo is still sound asleep, and you had smiled at how he took little puffs of air as he was passed flat out in bed. but you always like to be up early on christmas, and there's something about the holiday that makes you feel like you need to earn the right to nap later.

you wander around the bedroom for a bit, stretching your legs as your muscle protest in earnest. eventually, you decide to make your way to that kitchen. breakfast, right.

it seems like a good idea, especially considering the last thing in your stomach was a questionably sour vodka. so you pull open the fridge, expecting something befitting of this apartment. perhaps a slab of wagyu beef, a tin of caviar, a thick block of pistachio-cream dubai chocolate. you'd even settle for sushi.

instead, you're left staring back at a stack of candy canes, some strawberry yoghurt, a carton of milk and some fast food wrappers. despite your protesting stomach, a deep amusement washes over you. it doesn't surprise you that gojo would have a fridge stocked with food you'd find at a child's birthday party and a greasy diner.

still, breakfast is in order and because you can't help it, you pull out a candy cane and start unwrapping it. you're just about take a bite when you hear the unmistakable pad of footsteps. you turn, face to face with someone who would clearly not be out of place on a vogue covershoot.

gojo hasn't tossed on a shirt, and the sunlight filters over his chiselled physique before your sight is stolen by the loose sheet wrapped around his waist. delicious. you try to snap your gaze back to his face, but it's hard to not track your gaze down his torso, like a cat eyeing a particularly irresistible sunbeam.

"good morning to you too," gojo says, a grin curling his lips, "what are you doing?" his voice is still thick with interrupted sleep, laced with a morning rasp that forces you to ground yourself and stop falling prey to the god, eros and his machinations.

"breakfast, 'm starving."

"don't bother," gojo says, shaking his head, "we can go somewhere nice for breakfast. like real, actual food. don't think you want half-eaten yoghurt."

you nod enthusiastically, mind turning back to the peeling seal of the strawberry yoghurt with a spoon sticking out of it. but then, something else catches your mind's attention. a little curiosity piques, one that you cannot help but ask him.

"wait," you begin, snapping your teeth around the saccharine mint of the candy cane, "y'know what's crazy. like, i swear your eyes glowed last night. not even in a silly compliment way, but like electricity. i thought i was like, losing it.'

you expect gojo to brush it off with a wink, or maybe laugh it off like you're just teasing him. but instead, the man's face shifts, that cocky smile faltering for the briefest moment. it's gone so fast that you think you almost imagined it. but why does he look...almost guilty?

before you can process that, you realised you've leaned yourself over the counter, and in your absent-mindedness, your elbow presses a button on the answering machine. a small beep, and suddenly, a voice blares through the room,

"hey, gojo-sensei!" comes a high-pitched, distinctly teenage voice, an excited boy who sounds a little crackly over the speaker, "so, we found this grade one curse yesterday...and uh, we totally got rid of it. we were gon' call you, but you didn't pick up. but i almost got my arm torn off. wait, no! that sounds dramatic, i got shoko to look at it anyway. so what we're all wondering right is that we don't have to hand in any homework now right? as like reparations?"

the voice crackles off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. you stand there, absolutely dumbstruck, staring at the answering machine like it's about to burst into flames or start singing christmas carols.

gojo, meanwhile, has the most awkward look on his face, clearly caught between embarrassment...and what? panic, amusement?

"satoru, what the fuck?"

he looks at you for a moment, but instead of speaking, he lets out a long and exasperated sigh before pulling out one of the counter chairs, "you're gonna want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."

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luveline · 4 months ago

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Hotch request w Jack and new baby!!! Coming back from the hospital and reader is in bed with new baby and Jack while Aaron is in another part of the house (maybe making food in the kitchen) and reader starts crying because she’s in pain and jack is all concerned and sweet and goes to get Aaron??

thank you for requesting, sorry I messed up where everyone was! fem, 1.3k

“He’s gonna stab him!”

You blink from the spot you’d been staring at, pain momentarily forgotten. “What! Where’d you learn that word?” you ask in surprise.

Jack leans back against his big velvet pillow, blue with silver stars, looking as though he’s in the lap of luxury. “At school.”

The cartoon mouse on the TV raises his fencing sword high in the air.

“He’s not stabbing anyone, they’re fencing,” you say, reaching for his hand to hold. “Stabbing… that’s pretty scary. How did that make you feel?”

“Well, I’m not gonna stab anyone,” Jack says.

He’s confused that you’re making a fuss, just old enough to realise you’re poking around for his feelings. You worry lately that you aren’t paying him enough attention because of his new brother, and the word stab isn’t exactly age appropriate.

But maybe that’s what the boys his age are talking about? You frown more, your hand slipping along his arm to curl behind him. You pull him toward you. “Come on, handsome. Cuddle me.”

You’re too sore to move, so Jack has to come to you. He crawls across the couch until his arms can wrap around you and his cheek can rest against your chest. Stab is an apt word for the feeling in your stomach. Jack’s arm squeezes at you and the pain worsens, so you move it up your front and curl your arm around him.

“Is it a bad word?” he asks.

“No, it’s just like hit or slap, I guess. And I know you’re not gonna do any of that to anyone. You’re too gentle.”

“Gentle is a good word.”

“Yeah.” You kiss his forehead, a moment of self indulgence. You love your stepson, and he is oh so kissable. “Oh no, look at the mouse.”

Charlie sleeps in his swing seat, the soft whirring of its constant motion almost as comforting as the sound of his soft breaths. You watch him for a while, Jack climbing up at your side to press his face to your neck, leg on your thigh, slowly pressing against the tenderness that is your abdomen. “Uh, Jack,” you breathe, trying to pick him up, “you’re gonna have to climb off of me, my tummy hurts too much.”

“Sorry,” he says quickly, slipping off of you and onto the couch cushion. His foot kicks out as he rights himself, a jamming of his toes against the pain like a spike.

You take a deep breath. Ouch.

“It’s okay,” you say, groaning softly as the pain thrums, hand on your stomach as though your touch can make it stop, “just a tummy ache. I– I’m okay.”

“You got little tears?” he says, his voice going wobbly. You try to blink away tears and end up with a straggler curving down the slope of your cheek. “I’ll go get dad!”

“Jack, I’m okay,” you say.

Too late. Jack scrambles from the couch and away from you, up the stairs to find his father. You’re not sure what Aaron’s up to, he’d only said, “I’ll be right back,” twenty minutes ago. You’d guessed laundry.

You’re glad Jack’s run upstairs when you realise the pain isn’t going away. It’s not bad, not half as bad as your contractions had been, but the whole labour process has sapped you, and you feel weak as a willow branch in bad weather. You shift heavily onto one leg and cross them, uncross them when the pain spikes again, letting out a weird and breathless whine as it turns to a full blown cramp.

Jack returns with Aaron in tow. His hair is dripping wet, soap suds on his neck and his shirt stuck to his chest. He’s rushed out of the shower to see you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he rounds the couch. “Jack told me you’re not feeling well.”

You hold your arms out for a hug. He doesn’t falter, simply does as you want, his hair wringing wet and dripping onto your shoulder as he gathers you in his arms.

You hold onto him like a lifeline. The cramp curls, and tightens, has you seizing up against him.

“What is it?” he asks softly. “Stomach pains again?”

The nurse said it’s your uterus shrinking. Whatever it is, it’s sudden agony. You shudder into Aaron’s shoulder until the pain pangs and fades, leaving your stomach a tense mess. It hurts to move, so you stay clinging to your husband and let him hover over you.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks.

You sniff.

Aaron pulls away to take your face into his hands. He holds you with care, his thumbs under your jaw, index fingers running diagonally under each eye, tips at your brows. Just a stolen few seconds for him to check you over. No tears to be wiped away.

“Still hurting?”

You shake your head, eyebrows pulled down in a bad frown.

“Okay. Alright. Motrin?” he asks.

“No,” you whisper, “can you just stay here?”

Jack says your name.

You peek past Aaron’s body. “Jack, sorry.”

“Are you okay now?”

You grimace, “I’m gonna be fine, it just hurts sometimes and I didn’t have any medicine today. That’s all. Sorry, I scared you.”

“You didn’t scare me,” he denies.

You can’t help smiling, then. “Okay, I didn’t. Thanks for getting dad for me.”

“He’s our hero,” Aaron says. He sits down beside you carefully, his voice quiet and his hand gentle as he holds your thigh. “I’m glad he did.”

Jack climbs into his dad’s lap. Aaron wraps an arm around him, the other at your side, fingers tapping at you.

You rub your forehead. Tip your head back and take a deep breath.

“Jack,” you whisper, breathing out, “I’m sorry if I startled you. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“It wasn’t scary, I said that already.”

“Oh, you did?” Aaron teases.

“It was okay, I just don’t want you to hurt.”

“Only baby pains,” you say.

For a few minutes, you and your small family sit there in silence. Aaron works a hand behind your back to hug you, Jack snuggles into his chest, and Charlie stirs in his swing seat. The quiet calms him, and he goes back to his soft snoring seconds later.

“I’m sorry about your shower,” you whisper.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about my baby,” Aaron whispers back, drawing circles into your lower back, “he didn’t mean to chew you up.”

“Ugh, I know.”

Jack raises his nose. “What? Chew? Do babies bite?”

“It’s an expression, babe.”

“Oh.” He looks at his baby brother with suspicion anyways. “He doesn’t even have teeth?”

“Buddy, it’s just a joke,” Aaron says, laughing as Jack slips out of his lap to go and look at Charlie in the seat.

“Maybe he did have teeth,” you say.

Aaron ushers you toward him, rests his cheek on your forehead. “It’ll feel better soon. You need to rest, that’s all.”

“Your hair is so wet.”

“I was in the shower.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he says. “Don’t be.”

You reach up to tousle his wet hair. “Miss showering with you.”

“We showered last night.”

“No, I stood there and you helped me wash my back, that’s not the same.”

“Well, I enjoyed it.”

“I bet you did.”

Your fondness attracts many, many kisses, his nose nuzzling your cheek. You settle under the weight of him and watch Jack where he frowns at Charlie, big brown eyes squinted, waiting for a show of teeth that won’t happen. Aaron brings a hand to your tense stomach, waiting for you to lean back before he begins massaging the tensed muscle there with a slowness that borders unmoving.

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” he says.

“You can go finish your shower.”

“I was finished. M’gonna start pressing in, okay?”

You wince as Aaron begins, but slowly, slowly, the tenseness from your cramp softens. It still hurts, but he makes it manageable. Jack delivered your rescuer, and your rescuer loves a soft touch.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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slvthrs · 8 months ago

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can you do a vinnie x fem reader smut where she (reader) is stressed out and vinnie fucks her good on the balcony and they didn’t care anymore if they get caught of what 🙈

ofc my lovesss

BREATHE BABY | v.hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

stress never stood a chance against a tall blond with an unyielding love for you.

BSF!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, fucking in a pool over the city, vinnie LOVES u, praise kink, hickies n love bites

word count: 2.5k <3

a/n: idfk if vinnie has a pool in his apt, i added one for the plot 😭

Stress was one of the most constant presences in your life. University, friendships, family relationships. It was as if stress was an obsessive ex that you couldn’t get rid of creeping back into your life once it got good.

The only thing that could keep it a bay was Vinnie, your best friend of 12 years, ever since you were nine years old the boy was like a walking calmer for you. His presence made you relax and he always reminded you when you needed to take a break.

Ever since he moved out to LA at 18 the stress slowly crept back into your life, and you had to adapt again. More friends in uni and new found appreciation of swimming.

If you weren't studying or with your friends, you were swimming. Sometimes the water made you calm down, it felt as if all your stress floated away as the water touched your skin.

That’s where you were again, the pool attached to Vinnie's apartment.

It was so odd, the lanky scruffy boy who you became friends with grew into the type of men you would see modeling- and you did.

Everything was so much more intimidating about the boy. His height, the tattoos littering his skin which make your skin turn hot.

His new found fame which made your head dizzy the longer you thought about it. The idea of the boy you first became friends with turning into this man who had girls falling over him left in right made your stomach flip and you had no idea if it was good or bad.

You had kept an eye on what he was up to in LA, his friends, his business, that one fight that made you nearly throw up out of fear.

And of course who he was dating.

It always said he wasn’t seeing anyone but you were never convinced, no one looks like that and is single, you always thought to yourself.

But it wasn’t just him who had changed.

Looking back, being stuck to one boy's side for all of elementary, middle, and high school was a hindrance.

Once you branched out in university you flourished.

You grew into a new woman.

Your features were sharper, your curves more defined, your entire face had what your friends called, ‘a glow up’.

Regular visits to the gym and taking care of yourself made you stand out.

Also being more active in your sex and love life made you more in touch with your body. Your last ex boyfriend taught you so much about what you did and didn’t like, you got better and sex and the burst of confidence helped you in tremendous ways.

You walked with more purpose in your steps and it really did seem like you left Seattle and turned into a different woman.

But this new Vinnie made you feel like a little girl again. Floundering in the big kids pool, kicking your tiny legs for a chance to come up and breathe again.

All of your confidence was for show as when Vinnie walked in you returned into that stressful anxious girl again.

You relaxed lackadaisical at the edge of the pool looking over the edge.

Everything looked so small, everyone down there had their own lives, your worries seemed miniscule compared to what everyone else down there had to go through.

An ambulance rushed by and the only thought you had was someone was about to get the most devastating news of your life.

It was like a trance the city of LA put you into.

The city of angels.

“You look deep in thought.” The velvety voice of the boy who the house belonged to piped in.

You turned and saw Vinnie resting against the sliding door of the balcony. His hands were in the pockets of his swim trunks whilst he had an unbuttoned linen shirt barely converting his ink filled torso.

“I’m always deep in thought Vinne, you know that.” A small huff left your plump lips as you turned and said that.

“I know but especially today.” He explained whilst walking over to dip his feet in the pool, “Is LA freaking you out? I felt like that for the first year I was here.”

He always did that. Trying to figure out what made you uncomfortable and trying to fix that. He was always kind like that.

“No Vin, it’s everything. It’s so weird. You left Seattle as a scared boy and now you seem like someone I’d see plastered on magazines talking about how many girls he sleeps with in a year.” The crude stereotype aside, Vinnie laughed at your remark.

“I’m still the same guy, you know that.” He said and continued a second later, “Besides, look at you. You're like a different person.”

It was your turn to laugh now, “You can come in you know that? It’s like you're trying to stay away from me.”

He smiled, “Thanks for the invite into my own pool.”

Despite the sarcasm he took his shirt off and entered the pool, walking over to where you were floating.

He towered over you.

“I don’t think I’ve changed that much.” You toyed with your bikini strap, “I’m still the same anxious girl you met.”

His hands rested on your waist, “Sure, but you're more confident, you're more talkative, plus you look so different.”

It’s quiet until Vinnie breaks the silence again.

“I kept checking on your Instagram now and again. You seem happier.” You both know what he means when he says that.

“I am. Moving out of Seattle was hard but in the grand scheme of things I couldn’t stay there after you left, it felt empty.” You tell him as he pushes a strand of hair away from your face.

“M’ sorry, I had to leave but my biggest regret is that you couldn’t have come with me.”

You laugh pulling away from him and turing back around, facing the city again, leaning over the edge of the pool.

“Even if you have asked I wouldn’t have come. I love you Vin, but I was always was gonna go to university. You were the unconventional one out of the 2 of us.” You sigh pulling you hair to one side and playing with the ends, a sort of nervous tick you developed after your first months in university.

“I know.” He breathes out, “That’s why I didn’t ask but a part of me always hoped you would come.”

He comes closer to you, his hands wrap around your waist and now your back is hitting his chest. His head practically rests on top of yours.

You nearly start crying.

You don’t know why.

“You think anyone down there is going through the same thing were going through?” It’s a dumb question on your part but you like talking to the blond.

“Are any of them dealing with 2 friends you love each other and have been apart for so long that they don’t know what to do,” He pauses, “Also one of them if famous and the other is the most amazing person on earth? Nah I don’t think so.”

“Mhm that makes sense.”

It goes quiet again.

The wind rustles against the palm trees and if you really focused your ears you could hear the waves crashing along the shore.

“You keep tabs on my insta?” You ask with a smile creeping up on your face

He smiles him self letting a huff of laughter out, “Yeah, I was hoping you forgot I said that.”

“Why, whatd’ya see on there?” Another dumb question, you know exactly what he saw on there.

“You look happier, also you have new friends, ones I would like to meet,” His heart skips a beat, “Also y’know that guys on there.”

You laugh internally and turn around so you can see his face.

“Their some of my friends, I think you would like them.” You know he wouldn’t.

“What about Tyler?”

Your ex-boyfriend, the one you meet during finals week of your sophomore year. You had dated for nearly 9 months before you broke it off.

It wasn’t anything serious, he didn’t cheat, he didn’t lie- your lives were too different and you both knew that.

It was a mutual decision but Vinnie didn’t care. Anyone the broke up with you or even hurt you in anyways was evil in his eyes, how anyone could do that to you, he couldn’t explain to himself.

“Tyler’s Tyler it doesn’t matter.”

He blinks at you.

“What you want me to bring up all the girls your rumored to be dating?”

“Fuck off you know that isn’t the same thing. Half of those girls I only follow on tiktok and I haven’t been in a single committed relationship with any of them… Why the fuck did I find out about your long term relationship over fucking INSTAGRAM, I’m your best friend what hell?”

He steps back, with his hands in the air like he’s being accused of something.

“I don’t know Vin I just didn’t know how to tell you, everything was too much. I was so worried what you were gonna think and then it got to late. I felt like there was no point in telling you-”

You ramble and he cuts you off.

“It’s fine, breathe pretty girl, just relax, I’m right here.”

He pulls you closer to him and the moment you look into his eyes that calming effect he has on you just corses through your body.

Something just clicks inside the both of you and he’s kissing you so gently it’s like hes afraid of breaking you.

His lips slot perfectly into your’s, it’s like you were made for him, his hands fall onto your ass as he pulls you closer, his eyebrows are knitted together in focus and he’s holding you as if he’s afraid to lose you.

It feels so fucking right.

You the one that pulls him harder into you, your hands tangle into his hair, deepening the kiss.

Your nails rake the back of his neck and he hums in content.

Your the one that pulls back, a trail of saliva linking the 2 of you and he looks at you so intently as if he’s studying you.

“Your so beautiful. I don’t think I tell you that enough.” And his lips are back on yours.

Your the one who pulls the strings of your bikini of and his lifting you up so your flush against his body, most likely so he can feel your tits pressed up against his chest.

He’s grining in the kiss, as his hands grope your thighs and ass trailing up towards your hips. His hands are all over you and your ecstatic they are.

“More” you whisper into the kiss like it’s a secret only the two of you can share or else yoru lives would ruin.

“Please Vinnie I’m begging you.” You know your not telling him what you wnat but you pray he’ll save some of the embarrassment for you.

“Tell me what you want, I’ll do anything for you.” It’s like a prayer or promise of worship.

“Fuck me please, do whatever you want, I just need you.” It’s desperate and it turns Vinnie on so much more.

His fingers link around the straps of your bottoms and he pulls the down, your fully nude under him as he fiddles with his own shorts.

Your legs link around him as he slowly slides his dick in letting you get used to the size if anything.

You head falls onto his shoulders as you sigh out, your eyebrows knit and you nearly loose your shit.

He feels so much bigger than anyone else you’ve ever had sex with and your entire body feels like its getting shocked.

The sensation to crynearly hits you before you pull your self together, latching you lips onto Vinnie’s neck as he starts to move you.

It’sa rhythmic pace and it’s a kind one faring his size but you want more. You’ve waited years for this and you want more than him just being kind.

“Vinnieee,” It comes out as a needy whine as you cry out his name, “More, harder, anything just please needa feel you everywhere.”

You ramble but he knows what you want. He knows your body, he knows you better than you know yourself.

His pace speeds up and he tries to keep kissing your but you keep writhing. He finds it adorable but your trying not to cum as quick to draw this out.

You wanna feel him everywhere, you wanna be able to only see him.

“Vin,” You words are loosing power as he keeps thrusting into you, your thighs are sore and your mind is clouded with the thought of yoru impending orgasm.

“Choke me please, need to feel you.” His pace falters as he tries to grapple with what you just admitted to him.

The look on your face proves your not joking but he swears he nearly came just by the sentence alone.

His dick twitches inside you as his hands wrap around the base of your neck, he pulls yoru face up and you look into his eyes.

You look drunk and delrious and he wants you to have his kids right there on the spot.

He can’t even tell you what it is, he’s just so much more in love with you.

As his hands add pressure your hands comes to weakly wrap around his, not realy doing anything, just an unorthodox way of holding hands.

Your sense are flooded with just, Vinnie.

The same boy practically trained to teach you how to breathe when your mind rabbles, cutting your breathe off, and the way he looks while doing it.

His pupils are blown out and his face looks like a mix of lust and love. The whole scene out of a porno but even his eyes can’t hide how deeply he’s in love with you.

When he lets your neck go you inhale so deeply you nearly start coughing and he pulls you closer to him as his thrusts become sporadic.

Your forehead rests against his as you both cum, nearly blacking out as your vision goes white.

Your panting as he puts you down on the edge of the pool as he finds you a towl and the rest of your clothes floating around in the pool.

You end up in the bath making sure the get the chlorine off and the residues of sex off the both of you.

Your lying ontop of his as his hands rake through your hair.

“Just breathe baby we’ll take about it tomorrow.” And thats what you do, breathing to the sund of his heartbeats.

#bella's full works #bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker x reader fluff

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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 months ago

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𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚎 || Stanley Pines ll

Also called the seal people, the sea people or the mermaid – a selkie is a marine legend that tells of people who are half fish, and half-human. In the water, they are seals, but on land, they shed their skin and take on human form. And for some reason, they are irresistible to ordinary humans, who are apt to fall in love with the seal people

A/n: I am not happy with this

Stan couldn't help but roll his eyes as he tried to zone out on whatever Ford was blabbing about, docked in some small town in Ireland his brother received some tip that a creature was lingering here. One that Ford has never seen.

A Selkie

He really didn't care, as long as had an actual bed to sleep in he was happy.

....but did it have to be in some tiny ass town that wasn't even on the map, leaning into his hand an irritated sigh left his lips he didn't even notice you approach him.

"Top your beer off?"

Stan had to do a double take, he couldn't tare his gaze away. You looked like you stepped out of a painting. From that radiant smile, to how your eyes seemed to shine even in this dimly lit tavern.

Though the one thing he did notice was how you did not fit in here at all. Maybe it was you lacked the Irish accent or it could have been you looked nothing like the patrons you served. A scowl then formed on his lips.

'Idiot...you could be from anywhere...and decided to just move here.'

"Uh...sure..." Stan cleared out his throat, it was like all of his confidence was sucked from him. "Thanks."

"You're not from around here are you?" You teased leaning across the bar top.

Swallowing thickly, Stan let his eyes dart to your cleavage then quickly looked up as his cheeks flushed for a moment. "Uh.."

Humming, you smiled sitting up dusting off your apron. "You're cute."

It was strange, to be able to find a connection with a man after one that stole your hide. He was charming, he made you laugh. It was a strange feeling, while you longed to go home part of you longed to stay with him.

"So you're what...a Selki? My brother is lookin for one."

Tensing, you frowned letting your feet skim the waters. "Are you going to tell him about me?"

"Nah...I'm enjoying this too much....besides the longer he keep's searchin the longer I keep talkin to you." Stan gave you a smile as you glanced away for a moment your own smile tugging at your lips.

"Thank you Stanley." You muttered as you let your head rest against his shoulder.

Cheeks turning pink, Stan gave you a smile as he gave your side a squeeze. "Ah shucks, you don't gotta thank me dollface."

"You're getting awfully close to the barmaid." Ford glanced at his brother as he jotted something down in the new journal.

Tensing, Stan scowled as he stubbed out the cigar as he turned away from Ford. "Why don't you worry about that creature you're lookin for...I got shit do."

Shrugging on a black coat, he started to walk off the dock only to pause hearing his brother.

"We're leaving tomorrow Stanley so try not to get drunk."

'Tomorrow?' Stanley swore under his breath as he quickly rushed off into the night. He didn't think they'd be leaving so soon, not when he was just starting to fall for you. Sure it may have been a month but Ford usually stayed longer.

Shaking his head, he looked up at the house looming in front of him. He knew that bastards schedule by now and where you'd be. Cracking his neck he stepped towards the door.

"One last house Stanley...then you're done."

"Stanley! Stan!" Chest heaving, you rushed towards the man as he stood at the end of the dock, he was holding something behind his back as you did your best to catch your breath. "You're leaving...weren't you."

"I was gonna...I swear...I just had to give you something. Away from those guys." Stan cleared out his throat. "Here."

Eyes going wide, tears swelled as you clutched your coat to your chest. "How did you."

"A good con artist doesn't relieve his secrets" Stan gave you a wink.

Holding the cloak, you stood on your toes placing a kiss to the corner of his lips. Waking towards the dock you slipped the fur around your shoulders only to hesitate as you looked back at the man, your heart aching. You never meant to fall in love.

"Ah go ahead doll face....I'll be fine." Stan cleared out his throat as he watched you vanish in the water. A seal poking its head up for a moment only to dice back down.

"You alright Stanley?" Ford stepped up beside him as he looked at his brother.

Rubbing his eyes, Stan cleared out his throat nodding his head. "Ya I'm fine..let's get going."

Frowning, Ford tipped his head then sighed as he followed Stan. "Right."

Hours passed as Stan kept his gaze on the waters, hoping to at least get a glimpse of you though he couldn't help but snort at Ford's rambles on missing his chances on speaking with an actual Selki, he had half a mind to tell Ford he not only talked with one but also slept with one too.

But he couldn't...not when you meant so much to him.

"Uh Stanley?! Can you come here for a moment?"

Hearing his brother's panicked voice, Stan rolled his eyes as he walked towards the back of the ship only to see Ford pointing some gun at....was that a seal?!

"Whoa!? What the hell are you doin?" Jumping in front of the barking seal, he pushed the gun away as Ford let out a scoff.

"Do you-"

"Please tell him to put the gun down?" Your voice muttered as you peered out over Stan's shoulders glaring at Ford.

"You..."

Turning around, in where the seal once was stood a very naked you. A pout on your lips though Stan had to shake his head as he quickly shrugged his coat off wrapping it around your body. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be?"

Shaking your head, you gave him a smile placing your hand on his cheek. "I tried Stanley but it's lonely...I want to be with you...if you'll have me." You whispered as your head rested on his chest.

Holding you close, Stan kissed your head then smiled as he cupped your cheeks. "Doll face, if I ever say no just toss me over the side of the ship."

"While all of this is well and good...can someone explain to me why there is a naked woman on the ship?"

Glancing up at Stan, you then turned the attention to Ford. "I'm Y/n....and I am the Selki you've been looking for."

Grasping your hand, Ford gave you a smile only to give his brother a glare. "It's nice to formally meet you, we'll talk about this later Stan-...where are you going...I AM NOT SLEEPING ON THE DECK TONIGHT?! STANLEY?"

Your laughter followed by the sound of the door slamming shut was his only response.

#drabbles #drabble #stan #stanley #gravity falls stanley #gravity falls stanley pines #stanley pines #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x you #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 1 year ago

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pervyroomate!Satoru who can't believe his luck when you answer his online ad for a roomate: "What made you seek out a male roommate, honey? Ain't cha scared the big bad wolf is gonna get ya in your sleep?" You scoff with a heavy eye roll. "Fuck no." He can't stop the smile slowly forming on his pretty face. 'Ya should be.' He thinks, already imagining how'd look naked and squirming beneath him as he made you cry on his cock.

pervyroomate!Satoru that despite his amazing mouth-watering muscles, he mostly watched as you move your belongings into his spacious 2 bd apt: "What the fuck, Gojo? You specifically demanded I not hire movers as you're 'stronger than any of those limp dick fuckers.'" You can't see how he leans against the wall amused, arms crossed and intently staring at the way your small cotton shorts gets lost between your plump brown ass cheeks as you struggle takin boxes to your new bedroom. "Sorry, the views just so damn spectacular. Lookin so fuckin good, baby." Your cheeks warm in embarrasment as you abandon the heavy box, rush into the room and slam the door. Satoru only chuckles, fixin his raging boner as he heads downstairs to get the rest of your stuff.

pervyroomate!Satoru does anything he can in the upcoming weeks to rile you up by any means: "Gojo, put on some goddamn clothes for christ sake. My girls are gone be here soon and none of em wanna see that fuckin shit." You grumble as you sit on the couch and turn on the Netflix app. He laughs heartily, dramatically ploppin down next to you. Its impossible not to notice how his naked chest ripples, how low his black briefs sit on his hips. His hypnotic ocean blue eyes linger on your thick cocoa thighs before meeting your gaze. "Fabrications. Your BFF cornered me in our kitchen just the other day.. Damn near begged me to dick her down. Wanted so bad to tell her I'm savin that for you." He leans in close to your stunned face to whisper his last sentence and gets up, heading to his bedroom. Your left starin at his spot on the couch with wide eyes and wet panties.

pervyroomate!Satoru purposely switched out the dark shower curtain a few months into you moving in with a clear one, finding any reason to disturb your alone time: "Hey y/n, need to brush my teeth real fast." Doesn't bother knocking, quickly stepping in before you have time to cover your wet body. His eyes seem a shade darker as he scans up and down your soapy, naked frame. A small 'fuck' escaping his pretty lips as he stares unashamed. "Gojo, what the hell?!" You screech, arms quickly covering your glistening breasts as you cup your other hand over your pussy. You could literally melt on the spot at the way she clenches at his intense gaze. "Get the fuck out!" The damn pervert looks on for a moment longer, actually having the audacity to palm his cock a few times. "Okay okay, baby, damn. Why you gotta be like that? You showed me yours, don't you want me to show you mine?" He asks with pouty lips as he finally backs out the bathroom, arms raised in surrender. You stop shielding your tits to throw a bar of dove soap at his stark white locks. He only chuckles, quickly shutting the door to avoid impact. "Fuckin creep, Gojo!!"

pervyroomate!Satoru flirts with you relentlessly, crossing every boundary and every line over the next few months: "You gettin the snacks, babe?" Satoru calls from the front room. You roll your eyes at the pet name before you feel a stinging SMACK! to your plump behind. "Ow, Gojo! You fuckin asshole. Quit it!" You swat at the childish nuisance but he dodges your attack easily, leaning against the kitchen counter a few feet away. Fuckin guy has spent the better part of the day smackin your ass while yelling 'Smack Ass Friday!' like a damn teenager. "Awe, come on pretty! Love watchin how your ass bounces when I do it." He coos at you before swerving a bag of doritos you quickly chuck his way. "Boy, I don't give a fuck. You touch it again and you're goin down." It's insulting how lightly he takes your threat; walking right up, grabbin a handful of each ass cheek and smashing your hips together. His half hard dick feels chubby as fuck against you, girth of him makin you gasp and clutch as his shoulders. Your insides clench at the feelin of him pressed against you. "Fuck, I been waitin to go down on you. Name the time and place sweetheart." He tells you sweetly, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, kissing you on the cheek and retreating to the living room. Damn this man must love leaving you speechless, heart and pussy fluttering to his dirty words.

pervyroomate!Satoru notices how much you love how he smells: whether it's his natural scent or cologne. You take his shirts without his permission too often, only wantin the ones he'd previously worn. Loves how he comes home late one night and catches you in one of his stolen white t-shirts. Neckline pulled up to your nose, tittes jiggling wildly underneath as you play with yourself. He stares between the crack of your bedroom door, hand swiftly squeezin at his dick as he watches you mindlessly rub yourself over your underwear. y/e/c eyes shut tight, quietly moaning his name like a fuckin prayer. "Toruuuuu! Fuh-uuuck Satoru, love how you smell. Mmmm, soooo good. Want you so m-much, need you to fuck me Toru!" His mouth hangs wide open as he humps his hand faster atop his light blue jeans, absolutely entranced how you frantically rub at your throbbing lil pearl. "Ahhhh! Oh my god, Toru please!" He's so greatful for a front row seat to witness you cum like a fuckin virgin. Fuck are you one?Can't help his deranged whisper as he commits the scene to memory. "That's it, baby. Cum for me. Fuck.. I know that lil pussy's so gushy for me right now. Can't wait to see it up close, gonna make her cream all over me pretty girl." Head pushed back into your fluffy pink pillow, pretty y/h/c hair splayed out makin you look like a goddess in the throes of passion to him. "Wanna cum on your cock, Satoruuuu!" His shirt rides up on you, showing him how your tummy pudge jiggles as your body convulses into an arch. You bite your lip to muffle the rest of your pleasure. It's okay. The sight is enough for Satoru. He paints the inside of his new jeans immediately, free hand cupped over his mouth as his eyes roll back, his hips repeatedly jerking his clothed spasming cock into the palm of his hand.

pervyroomate!Satoru who asks you the nastiest shit just to see you sexually flustered: You're in bed reading, back against the headboard with Satoru's head in your lap. Your hand carelessly cards through his soft hair, nails lightly scratchin at his scalp. So cute the way he whines at you to continue everytime you accidentally pause as you get to a good part in your book. "Hey baby?" His voice so innocent that you know for a fact the next words outta his mouth are gonna be filthy as fuck. "Yeah?" "How come you only call me Satoru when you're on your back, fingers in that pretty lil pussy?" His tone is laced with the genuine wonder of a child asking a simple question. Your jaw might as well be on the floor. "G-Gojo!" Shocked exclamation half accusatory, half scolding. "What? I really wanna know, y/n. Sound as pretty as you looked in my shirt when you moan it like you did the other night; made me cum so hard listenin." He's lookin up at you upside down but you're absolutely mortified, using your book to hide your face. What do you even say to him right now? "Aww, baby don't be shy. I do it when I think about you too. Cept I usually have a pair of your panties up to my nose." He shares with you happily and unapologetic, pulling the book from your fingers to toss it to the floor. "I wanna hear you say it like that again." Turning on his belly to leer at your clothed pussy through your tiny bottoms. Your breath picks up in anticipation, starin as his fine ass leans foward and gives a slow lick from slit to clit. The urgent, intense sensations has you squealing out his name as you slide both hands into his hair. "Satoruuu!" Slidin your shorts to the side, admiring your moist plump pussy lips. "Fuck baby, say it again. Just like that." He commands you, latching onto your sensitive lil button. All you can do is comply, buckin into his mouth as you wail 'Satoru' over and over to the damn heavens.

#black reader #all readers #black fanfiction #dirty talk #sub reader #pussylicker #pussy eater #perversity #jjk smut #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n #gojo satoru #chubby reader

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months ago

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Croissant 🥐 with frank ? : )

Could you do maybe a drunk reader x frank?

hear me out,

Reader gets locked of her apt so Frank takes her in his and maybe a little fluff?

a/n: i haven't had the time to write anything in two months. thank fuck lovely requests such as yours were there to help me get back into the groove ৎ୭

�� gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Oh no…” you uttered as the cold clang of your keys ceased to kiss your searching fingers as they virtually turned your bag inside out, “oh no, no, no, no!”

If only you hadn’t been in such a rush earlier to get to your best friend’s birthday party on time, maybe then you wouldn’t have been in this very situation.

With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the abyss of your purse and offered the barricade of your locked front door a brief glance before your cheek smooshed against its smooth surface. Slowly, and with a muffled whine escaping your lips, your frame slid all the way down till you were sitting crisscross applesauce against the entrance of your apartment.

Your head lulled as you fished out your phone and as the brightness swiftly switched on, your inebriated gaze rapidly narrowed to a squint. Your fingers struggled to hit the correct keys as you tried to google locksmiths in your area, though they didn’t manage to spell it correctly till the echo of a pair of heavy boots creaked on the staircase.

“You alright?” a deep voice washed over you.

Peering up from your phone, a flutter in your belly suddenly tickled and mingled with the dizziness already turning your world upside down, as your sight landed on none other than your unfairly handsome next-door neighbour.

“Frank,” an intoxicated smile crept up on your lips, “hello.”

“Hi,” he briefly blinked, swiftly picking up on the state you were in, “are you okay?”

Gazing up at him as he effortlessly managed to find his own set of keys in a pocket of his dark jeans, you ceased to offer him an answer and instead blurted, “would you happen to know how late locksmiths do their thing? You just look like the type of guy who’d know that kind of stuff.”

“Uh…” his dark brows furrowed, “you’re locked out?”

“Bingo bango,” weakly, you sarcastically pumped your fist in the air, “yes sir, I am indeed.”

Your eyes briefly flickered to the grimy hallway floor as a thought dawned on you. If they couldn’t get here tonight, then you’d probably have to sleep out here.

As Frank’s own key twisted in the lock of his front door, you expected him to just disappear and not get further involved in the chaos he’d accidentally walked in on, but instead, to your amazement, his bulky frame twisted back in your direction as an offer left his lips.

“I actually happen to know a guy who can help out, but it’ll probably be a few hours till he can get here. Do you wanna wait for him in here? Can’t promise it’ll be before the sun comes up.”

A giggle then burst from you and your head bowed as you wishfully joked, “you haven’t even bought me dinner yet and you’re already inviting me to stay the night?”

“Oh, no,” his gaze grew wide, “that’s–, I mean, that’s not–, I wasn't implying–”

“I’m just fucking with you,” the chuckle continued to rumble out of your lungs even as you then said, “help me up, will you?” and you reached up your hand for him to grasp.

#lea’s writing #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle request #the punisher fic #frank castle imagine #frank castle fluff #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader

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lynnaredfield3383 · 4 days ago

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Not my characters. Aged up 21. Swearing. Established relationship. Angst.

Katsuki's voice came through the line.

“I won't be home the next couple nights.”

“OK. Be safe.”

Katsuki was suddenly alert. Your voice was normal, but your response was nothing he'd heard before or ever imagined you saying. Did you know? How could you know? As fear crept in and took hold of him, he lost control.

“Look you know what hero work takes, and I wish I could be there with you…”

“Kats, it's fine. Really.”

You chuckle genuinely, refusing to comfort or dispel his uneasiness.

“I can change shifts…”

Bakugo's palms were sweaty now, and his hands were beginning to spark with nervousness.

“I took a shift tonight, so it'd be pointless. Now go get the bad guys.”

There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again.

“Shit. You mad?” Bakugo asked.

You laughed at this and it actually calmed him completely. He knew your genuine laughs, smiles, and tones. Knew them so well, but why until this very moment had he thought he was bored of those things, of you?

Mad had never crossed your mind. Hurt, disappointed, discouraged, and done. Sure. But you'd never been mad at him. Not for a second. Bakugo wasn't cheating on you, just flirting with some woman at his agency. Though you wish he'd tell you he was ready to move on, you weren't mad. Nor were you going to hold him back. You loved him too much for that.

“Never mad. Never.”

“O-okay. I'll see you tomorrow night then?”

“Not sure. Depends on the case tonight. You know how hero work is, Bakugo. Bye.”

Bakugo had been caught on the fact you used the same line he had regarding hero work, but then he swore loudly as he realized you'd used his last name.

“Fucking fuck! Shit!”

Bakugo called you back, but it went straight to voicemail. So he started running redialing every few seconds.

As soon as you'd said his last name you knew you'd fucked up. Which is why you already left the apt. You moved all your stuff from his place into your new place a week ago. As observant as he was, he hadn't noticed because he'd only been home once in the last 3 weeks. Just to shower and grab more stuff. As soon as you ended the call, you rushed to block him, knowing he would blow your phone up in moments. You'd left the letter a week ago when you cleaned the house top to bottom the way he liked it and hadn't been back since.

“You good?” Shinso, your current case partner asked.

“Yeah, let's go.”

Bakugo was on the floor of the kitchen hot tears flowing down his face as he held the letter tightly.

Bakugo, Sorry I couldn't keep you interested. Never thought we'd end up like this, but it's obvious you have feelings for that woman at your agency. I saw you & heard you two flirting the day I dropped your lunch off. It's okay. I'm glad you found someone that makes you smile and laugh like I used to. Move on, be free, and accept that there are no hard feelings. I didn't give you a heads up because I know you'll fight for us. I don't know why, especially since you've already moved on, but that's just who you are. You never fail. You didn't fail me or this relationship. You didn't. It was just time for us to move on, and that's OK. It happens. Wish you the best always, but you need to know I can't be friends with you right now. Maybe in a few months, but let's see how it goes. Be safe, be #1 & live your life with no regrets.

Y/N

#bakugo katuski #mha bakugo x reader #mha angst #mha #angst #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader

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xotaemintol · 3 months ago

Text

MARKHYUCK X FEMBLACK READER //APT.// <PT.1>

♡ “All you gotta do is meet me at the…” ♡

[She/Her pronouns, plus size friendly. Warning, this fanfiction will contain; heavy drinking, cursing, drunk sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, kissing, unprotected sex, implications of cheating, and more. Part one contains; Heavy Drinking, stripping, and cursing. If any of these things are triggering for you, please look away, thank you.]

[What is APT? 아파트 (AH/PA/TU), is an Korean drinking game. Two players or more stack their hands and chant: “아파트, 파트, 아파트, 파트, 아파트.” as they wave their hands, alternating them between each other. One player picks a number and another counts, as this player counts everyone moves their hands to the top starting from the bottom. The player with their hand on the top takes a shot and the game continues.]

(Please ignore any mistakes 😭 this was deleted 2 times, and I’ve rewritten all of this from memory, so bear with me. I’m also debating on finishing this, but you let me know what I should do.)

Leave it to Jisung Park to cancel plans he made at the last minute. You should’ve known better than to listen to him when he said he wanted to join Mark and Haechan to throw you a small house warning party. Not even 30 minutes later and he had already backtracked.

“Sorry, I can’t make it tonight, another night okay?” He said. You could strangle him. You had ordered enough food to feed four grown men, and just as you expected, he canceled.

But, luckily for you Mark and Donghyuck were on there way. They sent a text to the groupchat reassuring you that they’d be coming tonight, unlike Jisung.

You sigh and grab three shot glasses to sat them on the coffee table. Placing them down you smile. At least you can count on the two of them, so you don’t feel too bad. It’s not even 15 minutes after their text that you hear your doorbell ring, excited, you squeal and rush over to the door as you call out in a singing tone; “Coming!”

You check the small monitor beside the door, just to be sure that it’s them before—just as you assumed, it is. With a large smile on your face you open the door and squeal happily.

“You came!” You hug them both as Mark laughs. “Duh, we told you we were.” Haechan says jokingly in a snarky tone.

You roll your eyes playfully and look down at the bags in his hands. “Whoa, is that just alcohol?” You ask. Mark nods, “I told him we don’t need that much, but he said-“ “What’s a house warming party without enough alcohol to kill a bear?” You laugh and nod your head in agreement as you step aside to let them in.

Mark shakes his head, they take off their shoes by the door and you lead them back inside.

“It’s just the three of us though, we can’t drink all of that.” Mark agrees with you, but Haechan only waves the two of you off. “It’ll be fine, you can keep whatever you don’t drink tonight—think of it as a gift from your favorite man.” You snicker and sit down on the floor in front of your couch.

They look around the apartment for a second before sitting down. “Damn, this might be nicer than my place.” Mark says. You scoff and look up at him with a smile, “You mean your hundred billion dollar apartment? Yeah, right.” Haechan grunts softly as he sits on the couch beside you.

He sits the bags down on the table and begins to empty the contents out. “Might be? Mark could spend ten billion dollars and his apartment would still suck compared to yours.” You watch as he empties the bottles out of the bags. “What? Why?” Mark asks. Haechan look at him with a smug expression and says; “Because, your apartment doesn’t have a pretty woman.” He says simply.

“Yours doesn’t have one either.” “Says who? Y/N comes over all the time.” “Sure she does. She basically lived with me before she moved.” The pair continue to bicker, but your attention shifts to the sheer amount of alcohol Donghyuck bought. Silently, you count the bottles.

‘1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11…’

Your eyes widen and you turn to Haechan saying; “How much do you expect us to drink tonight? Aren’t you both lightweights?!” Mark immediately disagrees, so does Donghyuck. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

After giving them a tour of your apartment, you decided that it would be nice to watch a movie while waiting for the food to come. None of the three of you had even acknowledged the bottles of soju sitting on the table. You were too busy trying to figure out what to do next to beat the settling boredom.

“Let’s watch another movie.” You suggest, “There’s nothing to watch.” Donghyuck states. You hum softly as you scroll through the endless movies on the screen. “Terrifier?” Mark immediately disagrees. “Absolutely not, it’s just gore and cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Ballerina?” “We watched that last month.” “A quiet place?” “No, we watched that too.”

You continue going back and forth with Mark until Haechan finally speaks up and says; “Let’s play 아파트!” You turn to look at Haechan and with a confused expression you ask; “What’s that?” He grins.

“A drinking game.” He slips off the couch and sits on the floor beside you. “So, we all put our hands on top of each others and go ‘아파트 파트, 아파트 파트,아파트 파트.’ And then we start move our hands up to the top of the stack and then who’s ever hand is on top has to drink.” You stare at Donghyuck slightly confused, slowly nodding your head with a puzzled expression.

He shakes his head and sucks his teeth. “Mark,” he says, “Come here.” Mark—seemingly already knowing what the game is, sits beside you on the floor and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’ll show you.” Mark puts his hand in the middle and Haechan places his hand on top, Mark puts his hand above Haechans and then Haechan puts his other above Marks.

“Okay, now—since I suggested the game, we say ‘Hyuck’s game, Donghyuck game, game start’ and then we wave are hands like this.”

To demonstrate, they begin waving their hands while alternating which one is on top and which one is on the bottom while chanting; “아파트 파트, 아파트 파트, 아파트 파트.” When they stop Haechan’s hand is on the bottom, while one of Mark’s is on the top. “Okay, so since my hand is on the bottom, I pick a number and Mark counts.” You nod and watch. “9.” Mark rolls his eyes and sighs before counting to nine.

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.” After counting Mark’s hand is on top again. “Since Mark’s hand is on top he has to take a shot, and then it’s his turn to choose and I count.” He says, “Sounds easy, right?” You nod, this time fully understanding.

“Yeah, easy when he isn’t cheating.” Mark mutters, “There is no cheating, you’re just bad at the game.”

After just 20 minutes Mark is 5 shots deep, you’re 4, and Haechan is only 1. You quickly realized after your third shot that Donghyuck is strangely good at this game, and Mark is strangely bad at it. Luckily, it was your turn and you were really starting to grasp how to win.

“아파트 파트, 아파트 파트, 아파트 파트, 아파트 파트!” The three of you chant, your hand ends on the bottom and you look over at Haechan with a grin. His poker face is killer. He’s been so calm this whole time, laughing as you and Mark—mostly Mark, filled your glasses to the brim and took shot after shot. But you can’t let him win, so before shouting out a number you think. You glance around you for a second before hesitantly shouting out; “7!”

Mark begins to count and you nervously move your hands upward. “5, 6, 7.” “YES!” You jump up as Donghyuck’s hand lands on top. You laugh as he presses his tongue against his cheek, chuckling as Mark pats his shoulder. “Bottoms up Hyuck!” You tease.

You quickly sit down and pour his shot, pouring until the alcohol is almost overflowing. “Drink! Drink! Drink!” He laughs in amusement at your cute reaction and takes the shot to his head. Just like the first one, he makes it look easy.

As he sits his glass down you gasp and lean onto Mark in a playful manner, you place on hand on his chest and the other on his thigh. "Watch out Mark," You say in a fake whisper; "I think he's planning something." But Mark doesn't respond. His foggy mind is distracted by the smell of your lotion.

Usually he's used to you being so close, but in his impaired state he feels a little shameless. His desire to get a better smell of your scent is a little stronger than his morality, so, he leans in close to smell you a little more. But, just as he does you turn around and look at him. He flinches back and quickly looks away from you, turning red from his neck up as he nervously laughs.

"Be careful, we can't let him win." You add. Haechan, who watched silently laughs and adds in a teasing tone. "Yeah Markie Pooh, don't let me win." You snap your head over to Haechan and jokingly poke his chest as you glare at him. "I'm watching you, don't get cocky Hyuck." He smirks and looks down at you with his eyebrows raised. "Watch all you want," He says. "I don't mind."

You laugh and roll your eyes as you sit up. "Alright. Let's keep going."

The game continues and once again the three of you begin the chant. This time, Mark's hand is at the bottom and Donghyuck counts. Just as expected your hand ends up on top. "Damn it!"

You grab your glass and Haechan fills it to the brim. You huff and quickly down the drink, "Alright! Let's go." Haechan laughs and nods.

"아파트 파트, 아파트 파트, 아파트 파트, 아파트 파트!" This time, his hand is at the bottom. "8." Haechan calls out. Mark inhales deeply and begins to count. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8." You silently prayed for Donghyuck's hand to end up on top—but, conveniently for him, this time it's Mark.

You grab another bottle of soju and fill Mark's shot glass. The game continues like this for another five minutes until it's finally Haechan's turn to drink again, but before taking his shot he looks at the two of you and says. "Let's make this more fun." "How?" You ask. His grin tells you that he has a mischievous idea in mind.

"Let's strip after every shot." He suggests. "What?! No!" "Okay." Your reaction is completely different from Mark's. In your mind, the added element of stripping would add a million times more thrill to the game. Currently, there isn't much at stake other than a hangover for everyone. But stripping, adds a certain type of excitement and risk that would make this game even more fun.

As you turn to Mark you ask; "Why not?" Donghyuck leans over your shoulder and repeats after you asking in a teasing tone; "Yeah Mark, why not?" Mark rolls his eyes but before he can respond you say; "C'mon Mark, it'll be fun!" Mark looks at the both of you for a second, the mischievous look on Haechan's face and the excited one on yours spell danger, but—he agrees either way.

"Okay, fine." "Yes!" Haechan takes his shot and this time, instead of continuing the game, he begins to peel his shirt off his body. As he does so you watch with wide and surprises eyes. As he does so you watch with wide and surprises eyes. You grin as he tosses his shirt aside and reach to touch his chest, but he covers his body with his arms and stops you.

"Uh, uh! This isn't free ma'am!" He says jokingly, "But for you..." He moves his arms and allows you to freely touch his chest. You laugh as your hands roam his chest saying; "I love this game." You look over at Mark and grin. "Sorry Mark," Your hand pauses for a moment and you give him a fake pout. "But I hope you lose."

"What?! Why?" Mark asks with a laugh, you grin and shrug your shoulders saying; "I gotta see how much you have in common with Spider-Man." He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but Haechan laughs at your joke.

"Whatever, let's keep playing."

Again the chanting starts. "아파트 파트, 아파트 파트, 아파트 파트, 아파트 파트!" Now that the stakes have been raised, every time the word leaves your mouth your hands feel sweater and your heart seems to beat a little faster. A mixture between excitement and anxiety fill your drunken body, and when your hands finally stop—with yours at the bottom, you almost jump up in excitement as you yell out; "YES!"

They laugh at your excitement, but as soon as you throw out a number, Mark's laughter stops. Donghyuck counts and your hands begin to move. "3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10." "DAMN IT!" Mark curses as his hand ends up on top, but you can't help but cheer. "Yeah baby! Strip! Strip! Strip!" Haechan laughs loudly at your reaction and at Mark's loss as he pours him a shot, only filling the glass half way this time.

Mark huffs loudly and takes it, he slowly drinks it down and then slams the glass on the table. "Take it off! Take it off! Take-" You stop and cover your mouth as he glares at you playfully. You retreat to Haechan and lean your back against him while chanting a bit quieter, "Take it off, take it off." Haechan now following along behind you to further antagonize Mark.

Reluctantly, Mark slowly strips himself of his shirt—only to reveal a white tank top underneath his T-shirt.

“Aw man! What the hell?” You roll your eyes in annoyance and sit up. Mark can’t help but laugh at your reaction. “What?” He teases, “Were you that excited to see me naked?” With zero hesitation you say yes. “Why are you wearing two shirts anyways?” “I always wear an under shirt.” You roll your eyes and look away from him.

“Yeah, alright.”

The game continues and this time Mark’s hand is at the bottom, the two of you stare at him—waiting for him to shout out a number. You can tell he’s nervous from the way his eyes dart around. His cute smile as he thinks gives you butterflies.

“Uhm, 12!” You laugh and shake your head as you begin to count. “1, 2, 3…” You slowly, the anticipation is killing Mark, but entertaining for you and Haechan. “7, 8, 9, 10, 11…” You laugh, knowing that it’ll be on Mark again and finally say 12. Mark groans loudly as Haechan bursts into laughter.

“Take it off! Take it off!” This time, you’re fully expecting him to take off his shirt. But of course not. “Socks count as clothing.” Mark says. You whine and roll your eyes. “What?! How! That’s not even fair!” Haechan stops you and says in a calm tone. “No no, let him take of his socks.” “After that, he’ll have to take his shirt off.”

You look at Donghyuck and softly gasp in excitement. “You’re right!” Mark laughs in disbelief at the both of you and takes both his socks off.

As the game starts again you feel even more determined. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but the room suddenly feels a bit hotter. Tension rises with every second but it only makes the game even more entertaining.

Your hands stop again, but this time Haechan’s hand on the bottom.

In a relaxed manner Haechan calls out his number; “7.” Both you and Mark, are expecting him to have set up Mark to take his shirt off, it only makes sense. Nervously, Mark begins to count, but unexpectedly, your hand ends up on top. “NO!” Mark laughs as he claps his hands. “Ha!” Donghyuck joins him and pours your shot.

“Whatever, youll end up taking it off either way.” You take off your shirt and then drink the alcohol in your glass. When you sit it down the two of them are shamelessly, staring at your breast.

“If you’re gonna stare at least don’t make it so obvious.” You joke. “Hey, it’s not my fault your heart is behind your breasts.” Haechan says, you laugh and playfully shove him as Mark sits silently, turning red as he tries his hardest not to stare.

“Okay, let’s go.”

This time, the chanting is a lot slower. The game feels more fun, but you also feel a little anxious. Sitting between the two of them like this isn’t completely out of the ordinary, you’ve changed in front of them more times than you can count on your fingers and toes—but something about this, the energy and the heat radiating of their bodies makes it feel different.

“아파트 파트, 아파트 파트, 아파트 파트…” repeating the process, only this time you’ve picked the number—Haechan counts and your hands move. Your breathing becomes deeper and slower. Finally, your hands stop and to your luck, Mark’s hand is on top .

You high five Donghyuck before pouring Mark’s shot, only filling it half way. “Drink up.” Mark shakes his head and picks up the glass. He takes a second before sipping it down, and when it’s all gone he sits it down then slowly slips his shirt off.

He tossing his shirt next to yours, before he can say anything your hands are already on his body as if they have a mind of their own. He doesn’t even stop you. Instead he watches with a smirk on his flushed face

“Are you happy now?” He asks, you nod and look at him. “Very.” You respond. He leans his head back and smiles with his tongue pressed against his cheek, “You act like you’ve never seen us without a shirt on before.” Haechan says. “Yeah, but usually y’all act like I’m a criminal for looking.” Mark grabs your hands and raises his eyebrow at you. “You’re acting like one.” He says playfully.

You laugh and put your hands up. “Can you blame me?” “Yes.” Again, the game starts. “아파트 파트, 아파트 파트, 아파트 파트!” The pace picks up again as excitement builds and your hand is on the bottom. “13!” Mark counts, his speed also picking up. “9, 10, 11, 12, 12!”

The two of them cheer loudly as you hand lands on top. “Let’s go!” Mark shouts, they high five and laugh—but after you’ve taken your shot they both realize what comes next and their excite smiles slowly fade.

“Oh, wait. You don’t have to-“ Before Mark can finish you stand up and begin unbuttoning your pants. “Rules are rules.” You shove your pants down, trying not to let your underwear get caught—when they’re down to your calf’s you place your hand on Haechan’s shoulder to keep your balance.

You struggle to get them off your leg, it only hits you now just how drunk you are. Luckily, Mark notices and helps you. He looks up at you as he slowly slides the pant leg down your calf, the look in his hazy eyes is a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Your own reflection almost the same thing.

You look down at him a little longer, staring into his eyes as the tension stirs—quickly becoming sexual. It’s only when Haechan clears his throat that you look away. You chuckle anxiously and stumble a little as you place your other hand on Marks shoulder so you can get the other leg down. But just as Mark did, Haechan helps you get it off.

Placing one hand on your foot and the other on your knee, just above your shin he looks up at you with a look similar to Marks. A confident one, one that’s equally as sexual. His hand slowly slides down your leg to push the fabric off your—now, warm skin. When it’s bunched up at the bottom he pulls it all the way down then tosses them to the side with his own shirt.

Slowly, you sit down with the help of Haechan and inhale deeply.

“Should we keep going?” He asks, you nod your head and then look to Mark who seemed to be waiting for your answer before giving his own. “You aren’t gonna quit now, right?” Mark shakes his head. “What about you?” Haechan shakes his head as well. “Okay, good!”

You clap your hands together and put them in the middle, they quickly follow suit—in your stomach the heat you felt becomes a scorching sensation. As you move your hands the tingling sensation in the depths of your body becomes stronger.

“9.” Mark says. As he slurs his words, Haechan counts to nine. Mark moves his hand, then you move yours, then Haechan, then Mark, then you, then Haechan, then Mark, then you again, and finally Haechan.

Standing up Haechan locks his lips and slowly pulls the strings to his feet sweats loose. As they come undone you feel a soft throb between your legs, you watch shamelessly. Too intoxicated to pretend that you hadn’t ever thought about a moment like this. He slowly shoves them down his thighs, his face turning red as the bulge in his underwear is put on full display.

The moment you notice it you feel a sensation similar to having to pee, that heat quickly turns into a wetness.

Neither you or Mark make a comment about the erection in his boxers. At this point, you’re sure Mark must be on the same page. It’d be pointless to point it out.

“Should we keep going?” Mark asks, before Haechan could answer you respond for him. “Why would we stop?” Both your words are slurred. “Exactly, I’ll be damned if I’m the only one exposed tonight.” Donghyuck sits down and you laugh a little. “See, this is why I’m glad I don’t have a penis.” You comment, “What does that mean?” Donghyuck asks.

“Exactly what I said.” You look at him, but his expression makes you look away immediately. His eyes are low and the grin on his face makes you feel unbelievably horny. “But anyways…” You clear your throat and sit up. ‘Relax.’ You think to yourself. But the feeling between your legs is so intense already.

“C’mon, you said we should keep going.” Everyone places their hands in the middle again, but now, there’s no chant. You move your hands and when your hand is on the bottom, you give a number and silently pray that it doesn’t end up in you being completely bare. “1…2…3…4…5…6..7…8…” To your luck, Mark’s hand is on the top. This time, he doesn’t reach to grab his glass; instead, he stands up and unbuckles his belt.

Again, you sit mesmerized. Admiring the way his hands look as he yanks his belt through the loops, even in your drunken state you can still recall all the times you’ve thought about being on your knees in front of him as he took his pants off.

His belt hits the floor with a loud clanking sound, but you don’t look away to see where it landed; you’re too busy watching him remove his pants in a rushed manner. You lick your lips as you see the band of his boxers. Just like Donghyuck, when he’s finally removed them you can see that you were right. He’s in the same boat. The erection in his boxers is as clear as day…..

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utilitycaster · 7 days ago

Note

One of your recent posts talked about the way BH have essentially "run out of plot" in following the Red Moon/Predathos plot and the way that the PCS are being played.

I was also curious about your thought on the interparty dynamics in the end game, particularly with recent developments. One of the issues I've had with Bell's Hells for a while now is the way they don't challenge each other (or at least not in the way previous parties have)

Yeah; they don't. And honestly I think this is a combination of just...luck of the draw of the characters they created combined with that lack of room for those characters to develop because they've been in an environment that hasn't allowed much time and space for anything but rushing to the next task. Like, as mentioned, a lot of characters are kind of here to hang out or have goals that aren't specifically tied to personal change, if they have specific goals at all. That's not a bad thing! Grog, Jester, and Fearne all share that quality and are all fantastic executions of it - and Grog and Jester do change quite a bit despite that because the story gives them many opportunities to do so, and yes, because their fellow party members challenge them. But it feels like the bulk of Bells Hells if not all of it is kind of in that boat.

I remember an early panel in which Marisha said "I don't want to think anymore" and I know Travis has mentioned something similar for Chetney, of wanting to play someone much more chaotic after playing someone so highly controlled as Fjord. Liam also talked about stepping back from being a major decision maker at some point, and built Orym to be someone who had a viewpoint but didn't specifically assert it (as we've just seen). Like, I think most resentment C3 fans have towards C2 is just jealousy and bitterness but perhaps a fairer grievance is that the cast really brought their A-Game to the Mighty Nein with a lot of incredibly complicated, driven, messy characters and due to the smaller nature of the company then combined with the scaled back production of the pandemic focused intently on them; and then nearly all of them made a bunch of fairly go-with-the-flow or chaotic characters as a breather and (not unfairly or unreasonably!) thought they'd be in a story that would give them space to become something else or that would suit them, and it didn't. As someone who likes actual play I think if nothing else this serves as a look into how fantastic overall cast chemistry doesn't translate into compelling party dynamics.

To be clear, I think Bells Hells like and care about each other, but none are really the type to both strive to be better and challenge those around them to be as well. Even their defenders in the fandom are kind of leaning on the party of NPCs line from very early on [which is funny because a lot of people HATED that line at the time; I got hate over thinking it was apt] but the thing is yeah at this point in the campaign, they shouldn't still feel like a party of NPCs. Perhaps this is a personal preference, which, to be clear, does not in any way invalidate it as criticism, but as someone with a bit of a comics background, I've never been terribly into "Suicide Squad"-esque stories but I am into stories of Person Who Has An Opportunity And Rises To The Occasion Despite Not Being The Best Choice On Paper. Ultimately, my issue isn't that Bells Hells come from humble backgrounds and tragedy (this is also...not untrue for the Mighty Nein, incidentally; in fact they had even less endorsement from powerful groups. Molly died 26 episodes in and he just stayed fucking dead because no one had Keyleth's phone number so this is another case of "your defense just makes me think the Mighty Nein achieve this in a far superior manner"); my issue is that, as Laudna put it, they kind of just walk through doors because they're in front of them. I don't need them to become classically heroic; but I do need them to have some sort of intention. And they don't. Why are you walking through doors? "Because they're there" doesn't cut it. You're here because the Exandrian Accord gave you a whole bunch of support so don't play that "i'm just a nobody with nothing" shit anymore, it's demonstrably untrue.

I had this in the tags originally and I decided, perhaps unwisely, to move it into this post because I think it's relevant, but: in case it's not apparent, I think "You! Are! Valid!" culture is fucking awful; this is what that weirdo who thinks I'm from Reddit is mad at, I think (honestly I'm not sure if they're angry, they might just be very unwell). Like, it has roots in something true and helpful; you are valid for things like your race, gender, sexuality, ability/disability, and things that have happened to you in the past. But actually no one is automatically valid for their actions. Being incurious or inconsiderate or incapable of taking constructive criticism, even if this is tied to your past? not valid. Your trauma and pain is valid; what you do in their name very much might not be. And I think a lot of people who love Bells Hells do not like this message (which, Bells Hells don't like this message, hence the repeated "whatever you do is fine" conversations) and kind of romanticize a "NO ONE IS ON OUR SIDE WE MUST DO WHAT IS RIGHT FOR US THERE'S NO GOOD ANSWERS" state in which one cannot be held responsible for action nor inaction and that's a lot of why they respond so dramatically to the increasing sense within the fandom that this party lacks the juice and does judge them for inaction. Like, I've been talking about character agency and how a lot of people's enjoyment of Bells Hells hinges on how they HAD NO CHOICES and I think we're seeing the fallout, which is that a TTRPG story (ie, a medium defined more so than anything else about player choices) about characters who were stripped of choice kinda sucks ass, and anyone who doesn't look to actual play D&D to valid their personal morality (which, in this case, usually is "the world is unfair so I can do whatever I want" anyway) would rather see a story about a character who fucking had a viewpoint and did things with it, even if it were a "bad" viewpoint. I know I'm hard on villain stans because a lot of them are actually people who are like "what if the VILLAIN were the HERO...I am very intelligent," but actually, this is the crux of why Darth Vader was very popular. It's not because people thought he was a good person; it's because he drove the story more so than the heroes much of the time, and people responded to that. Purely reactive characters are boring and to get back to your original point do not challenge each other unless someone else starts the reaction chain, and there just haven't been too many opportunities of the external nor internal variety to do it. It's mostly bad luck and again, a session zero could have fixed this, but it is what it is.

#cr spoilers

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baronessvonglitter · 7 months ago

Text

All Through the Night

Agent Whiskey x f! junior agent!reader

Word count: 4.4K

Summary: after it's made clear that you're not welcome as a Junior Agent for the Statesman organization, Whiskey takes you under his protection for an unforgettable night

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, mentor/mentee relationship, forbidden relationship, vandalism, nightmares, 'only one bed', first time, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, no use of y/n

JACK DANIELS MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

When you're first introduced to your mentor Agent Whiskey, you're not sure if you'll get along with him. With others he seems friendly, casual, laid-back, flirtatious even. But with you he takes on a sterner tone, as if he's closed off, and from the moment you're paired up as mentor and mentee, he treats you with nothing more than solemnity. Throughout your training he doesn't praise you as you honestly wish he would, just gives a curt nod, arms crossed, mouth set in a firm line, eyes giving nothing away.

It doesn't really help that you come from a rival agency, igniting all kinds of rumors. None of the other trainees get close to you. You find it pointless to try to change their minds. You've been alone most of your life, so why try to make friends now? Especially when you're in competition with each other.

You rise through the ranks quickly, an apt pupil and adroit agent. With each test you pass with flying colors, you expect something more from Jack Daniels himself to show he's proud of your progress, even just a smile, a pat on the shoulder, but he remains as unmoved as ever.

The day comes when you're given your official agent name, and in a flurry of excitement you rush to claim yours, only for your expression to turn quizzical when you hear what your new alias is. "What the hell is a Gimlet?" you finally ask as you burst into your mentor's office.

Jack glances up at you quickly, obviously in the middle of an important call, and tells the other line he'll call them back. You pick up on the ghost of a smile that passes his lips before he catches himself and turns serious again.

"Sorry," you tell him. "Is everything okay?"

He nods. "Classified information," is all he says. But you see the look of worry in his eyes, the way he casts his gaze upon you, you can't tell if he wants you to stay or needs you to leave.

"Was Gimlet your idea?" you accuse him, trying to lighten the mood.

"Nope. Wasn't my idea." As usual your heart does a triple beat at the sound of his deep voice, the Southern twang. Lately you've realized you've developed a little crush on him, but your education and your training are paramount at this point in your life. You can't be thinking about him this way, even though it's a hard feeling to suppress.

Uninvited, you sit on the edge of his desk, waiting for him to command you to get off. He doesn't. "Sounds like a Lord of the Rings character.. Gimlet.." you do a raspy little monster voice, and Jack crooks his eyebrow, looking like he wants to explode in laughter. "Sorry we can't all be as cool as Whiskey," you grin. "Oh, see that frown? Now that's what I call a Whiskey Sour."

He glares at you with mock severity and you take this moment to try to mess with him a little, to get him to open up.

"No-go on the Whiskey Sour, got it. How about 'Ten Gallon'? 'Billy the Kid'? 'Butch Cassidy?'" Teasing him is so much fun simply because you know he's an easy target, and it's as close as you've come to flirting with him.

He sighs in defeat. "You're thinking of 'Gimli.' From Lord of the Rings."

You shake your head, a smile bursting onto your lips. "Nerd."

"You really want me to lose this fight, don't you?"

"You've already lost, Roy Rogers." You playfully flick the brim of his hat.

A noticeable blush shows on his face as he straightens his hat, and as he clears his throat he adjusts himself in his chair. "So. You're using all the western ones, huh?"

"It's on theme, wouldn't you agree?"

He holds back a smirk. "Don't you have a codebreaking class to be in soon?" He stands up from his chair, adjusting his the waistband of his jeans, inadvertently drawing your attention to that area. Maybe you're imagining it, but it looks as though he's trying to hide the bulge evidencing his excitement.

Reluctantly you take the hint, getting off his desk. "So you're not going to tell me what that call was about? Shouldn't I be in the loop?"

Jack looks like he wants to spill the beans, his lips part as if to speak, and you can't help but imagine how soft those lips would feel against yours, what the slide of his tongue into your mouth would taste like. "All I can tell you is we're bumping up security on you. It's one of those 'the less you know, the better' type of deals, sweetheart."

It's the first time he's ever used a pet name for you and it sends the butterflies in your stomach in a frenzy. "Are you sure?" you ask, taking one more step towards him.

You hear him exhale, his dark brown eyes flickering with doubt. The moment between you feels like it could change everything. "I'm sure," he says at last.

You nod and start to leave, glad that at least a little progress had been made in that you got him to crack a smile.

"It's a cocktail," he says, and you turn back to look at him. "A gimlet.. it's made with gin, lime juice, and sugar."

A smile grows on your lips. "Sounds delicious.. but I really would prefer something cooler like 'French 75' or 'Absinthe.'"

"Adios, Junior Agent Gimlet.." Arms crossed, he signals it's time for you to skedaddle.

As you leave he can't help looking at your ass, the gentle sway of your hips. He's imagined all kinds of things since the day you were partnered with him, and he's managed to sequester those feelings from the way he's supposed to treat you. Times when you sought him out for his esteem, his recognition, he only fractioned it, hoping to keep the boundaries between you, make it easier on him to deny what he feels, but it's only made it worse.

Truth is, he's not only proud of you, but you've managed to get to him like no one has before. It's not just a protectiveness he feels towards you, but something deeper has grown. He hates to admit this to himself. And now, just before you made your animated entrance into his office, he was informed about a problem the agency was facing, one he couldn't share with you, at least not yet. Hell, even telling you to be careful would just set you on alarm, so he has to pretend everything is fine while you're unaware. While he's well aware you can handle your own, he just wants to keep you out of harm's way.

The rest of the day you can't help noticing that he's there, nearby. He's there when you're at lunch in the dining area, when you're studying in the library, when you're at weapons training. Not that you mind at all. You approach him towards the end of the day as you're headed back towards your dorm. "You're my security detail, aren't you?"

"You figured that out pretty quick."

"You're not exactly stealthy," you smirk.

"That stings, darlin'. But I'm not supposed to be stealthy. Just need to keep you safe."

"You're still not going to tell me why?"

He just shakes his head as he walks you to your room.

You sigh. "Are you going to stay out here all night? Like a guard or something?"

"If that's what I have to do."

It should bother you that you don't have much privacy, that your every move is going to be monitored. You assume it has something to do with your previous agency, but there's a small part of you that lacks the courage to address it. Looking at Jack, you wonder if he suspects you of wrongdoing, or if he's simply following orders.

"Good night then," you shrug. "Just remember: you'd be bored without me." Playfully sticking your tongue at him you slip inside your room.

"I'd go insane without you," he whispers just as your door clicks shut.

Not a few seconds later, he hears you calling his name, and he rushes inside to find you frozen, staring at your ransacked room. Upended furniture, your personal belongings thrown and scattered around. Drawers emptied and tossed aside. Your bed torn apart, your mirrors broken.

Questions form in your mouth but die on your lips. You have no idea who and even less idea of why. Jack immediately jumps into action, calling for a full sweep of the room for any evidence the intruder or intruders may have left behind. Meanwhile, feeling helpless, you stand out in the hallway, arms folded over your chest as the security team hurries in to investigate. You're asked to come in to check if anything was stolen, but seeing the few precious items you have still intact in your hiding place, you come to the conclusion that whoever did this was just out to scare you.

"Do they usually do things like this?" you mumble as Jack waits with you in the hallway. Some of the other junior agents are peeking out to see what's going on, and upon seeing your death glare they go back inside their dorms. "Seems petty to initiate someone by doing something so cruel."

"Sweetheart, I don't think it was no initiation," he says. "I'm pretty sure you don't think that either."

It finally catches up to you, the loneliness you've suppressed, the emotions you've had to swallow because you wanted your work to be your life. The friends you didn't make have now all turned to possible enemies. It's the loneliest feeling you've ever had.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," Jack tells you, and to your surprise he kisses your forehead. "I'm here. And I'm not letting you out of my sight."

You nod, grateful for his assuring words. "I thought I didn't care, but I just hate feeling so unwanted here," you swallow the tears that threaten to fall, having kept strong for so long.

Watching you like this is a dagger to his heart. You're usually so upbeat, so full of sass, and this incident bringing you this low really breaks him. He wipes your tears away. Your fear is normal, and even though he can't promise to remove it completely, he wants to at least make you feel a little better. "This is why I don't want.. just the thought of you being in danger.."

Your eyes grow wide as you stamp down the hope that he's speaking from anything more than a mentor standpoint. "Danger is what you're training me for.. why don't you want me near it?"

Jack clenches his jaw. He doesn't want to admit what goes against all rational thought, against all logic. He's protective because of how he feels about you. When did he become such a weak fool? He inhales and exhales slowly, hardening his features to hide his emotions. "I just don't like the thought of you getting hurt."

All you can do is absorb this information and store it away to think about another day. "I don't want to stay in there. The whole room feels.. violated." You cross your arms, shivering.

His mouth is dry as he asks, "Do you want to come spend the night in my room? It's safe, no one's getting in there. I'll keep watch the entire night."

Blinking, you grasp what he's offering. "Only if it's really okay with you."

"Your room is so you," you compliment, looking at the decor as Jack brings you inside his room. "Very masculine. Very John Wayne." The walls are decorated with buffalo prints and mounted longhorn steer antlers, and above you there are wooden ceiling beams, which draw your attention to the adobe fireplace in the corner of the room. Both woven and cowhide rugs lay at various places on the floor. You take from him the bundle of clothing and hygienic necessities you brought from your room and go into his restroom to quickly change and wash up for the night.

"So, where should I sleep?" you ask, emerging from the restroom.

"You take the bed," he says gruffly. "I'll take the sofa," he says, already making himself comfortable.

"You're sure?" You start to feel bad for disrupting his peace.

"Of course I'm sure. Where else you gonna sleep? The closet?"

You laugh a little, starting to feel more at ease. "In that case.." you tentatively climb into his bed, done in western prints, the headboard made of brown leather.

He watches you get into his bed. There's a certain gracefulness to the everyday action. Damn if everything about you doesn't arouse him. He has to take a deep breath to keep himself grounded. But it's his bed you're getting into, your skin touching his sheets, your head resting on his pillow. He clenches his jaw.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" you ask.

"I can stay awake all night if I have to. Make sure you're safe."

"Whiskey, you don't have to do that.."

A little smile crosses his lips. "Then I'll sleep once you're asleep."

"Once I'm asleep just get in with me. This is your room and I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed."

His heart beats double-time at your suggestion. There's no way she can possibly mean that he tells himself. "I'm fine here," he says, nearly choking on his words.

You nod against his pillow, which has his scent. "Well if you change your mind.. this mattress is heavenly." You close your eyes and shift your hips so you can lay on your side.

Damn it. That isn't something he needs to hear. He doesn't need your voice to sound so damn alluring like that. The way your hips roll as you shift position is sending his mind to places he doesn't need to go right now. He takes his eyes off you just to alleviate the flow of blood to his dick, which is already pretty hard.

It's late when he realizes you're finally deeply asleep. From where he rests on the sofa he watches you sleep, admires your beauty in the dim light of the room. He doesn't realize he's also fallen asleep until he hears you cry out in your sleep, your body tossing about. He jolts awake and goes to you, wraps his arms around you as if to shield you from your nightmares. "Sweetheart, wake up," he says gently. "I've got you."

You wake, shivering, your nightmare still looming large in your mind's eye until Jack's soothing embrace eases you back to reality. "It was so real," you mutter, taking a gulp of water from a glass that he offers you. "Would you.. would you get in with me? I just need to be held right now."

He hesitates only a moment before getting in on the other side of the bed. You slide over to make room, then scoot back towards him, allowing him to pull you close with his arm around you.

And damn it if he doesn't love the way you feel against him.

Not asleep yet, you let your body get into a comfortable place, basking in the warmth of his body, your hands resting on his, settled just below your chest. Without thinking about it, you trace the outlines of his fingers, his hands much larger than yours. His other hand is just above your hip, warm, pleasant.

Actually, 'pleasant' is too gentle a word to describe it. It's an intimate touch without being too forward. So many intrusive thoughts come to your mind. And in this rare moment of closeness, you let them win.

Closing your eyes you take a deep, silent breath as you take his hand from your hip and lead it lower, beneath the hem of your pajama shorts. Jack gives a little growl, indulging in the feel of your soft, smooth skin against his fingertips. "We shouldn't be doin' this," he whispers as his hand stills. You can feel the thumping of his heartbeat against your back. "We're breaking a lot of rules right now, just bein' here like this."

You can't help feeling a little guilty. You got yourself into this mess and all he did was try to pull you out. And now you were just a huge inconvenience, apart from also being a huge temptation. "No one would know but us," you tell him, turning on your side to face him. "I know you're my mentor, but I'm not a child. I want this."

He's quiet a moment, looking into your eyes, and for a moment you fear he will reprimand you, turn you down. It would be the worst embarrassment you can imagine. But then he leans in and kisses you, softly at first then with more pressure, and your lips part for his tongue as yours presses against his.

His hands make their way down your body, trailing across your skin as if you're the most delicate thing he's ever seen. Your hips rise up, inviting his touch, and damn it if he isn't ready to just rip your clothes off. Your body buzzes with exhilaration as Jack presses kisses down your neck, your chest, all the way down to give a kiss on your hip. "Is this okay?" he asks, breath shallow as his eyes search yours.

"Yes," comes your whimpering reply, and your breath hitches in your throat when he traces the border where your pajama shorts meet your thigh, and he slowly pulls them down. You arch your back, lifting your hips to help him, and your panties and shorts come off in one go as he slides them down your thighs until he removes them completely.

"I want to see all of you," he whispers, and you nod, pulling up your top, completely exposed to him. You watch him with wide eyes, awaiting his reaction.

Jack licks his lips, looking as though he could devour you. But he takes his time, his fingers slowly tracing up your torso, gently cupping your breasts and grazing his thumb across your nipples. Your sweet little gasp sends sparks firing in his eyes. "You're so sensitive to my touch," he whispers, as if witnessing a miracle. He laps his tongue over each bud, pursing his lips around it and groaning in need as you moan, lifting your hips to his. Even through his night clothes he can feel your heat, your moisture. "I need to taste you," he growls.

"Wait," you whisper. "I need to tell you.. I've never done this before."

This is something he doesn't expect. You always seem so sure of yourself, so direct in what you want, that he never would have thought you'd be inexperienced. "You really want me to be your first?" he asks, growing excited at the prospect of being with you.

"I want this.. with you," you assure him. "There's no one I trust more."

That's all he needs to hear from you. You're giving yourself to him, trusting him. "That means the world to me," he tells you. And with that, he doesn't hesitate. His hands move down your waist, across your hips and between your thighs. Spurred on by your shuddering sigh, he traces your slick folds with his fingertips until you beg him to finally touch you deeper. He eases two fingers in and out, his thumb tracing circular motions over you clit, barely restraining a growl as you eagerly clamp down on his digits. He watches, rapt, as you bite your lip to keep from moaning. He wants to give you more, to make you see stars while he's showing you what it can be like between lovers.

You feel like a god damn queen the moment he slips further down between your legs, gently raising them and getting himself settled. Heart hammering wildly, you gasp as you feel his tongue on your clit, gently sweeping over the sensitive flesh as he continues to work his fingers in and out. On a gasp your fingers grab his hair, causing him to growl and cup your butt with both hands as he resumes his attention on you, tongue flicking over your clit, along your folds, dipping into your crease, lapping up your sweet honey as if he's never going to have another meal ever again. Your blood grows hot and you're unable to even think of anything else but the burgeoning pleasure, and just when you think you might explode from need, the sweet, pulsing feeling takes over. You cry out loud, quivering as Jack makes you come.

He pulls away slowly once you're done, pressing gentle kisses on the insides of your thighs, working his way back up your body with his lips. "You okay there, darlin'? Need a minute to collect yourself?"

You nod, laughing a little, on the verge of giggles because your body has just experienced something so wonderful. "I'm good.. I'm perfect.." you manage to say, and there's a light in your eyes that affirms this.

"You are perfect, we are in agreement on that," he smiles, tucking a stray strand of hair away from your face, still flushed from your orgasm.

"Jack," you whisper, using his given name for the first time. "I'm ready.. I want you."

There's a delicious urgency as you help him remove his night clothes. His masculine build exceeds anything you have fantasized about him. His chest is broad with a sprinkling of light brown hair on his chest, and more of that curly hair leads from his navel down to his cock, which he encourages you to touch. It's thick, warm, heavy in your hand, growing more firm with each little stroke you give him.

You both have a need required to be met, but Jack wants to do this slowly, to build it up and make it the best possible experience for you. He has a strong desire to tear into you but he restrains himself, opting instead to kiss you softly, pressing himself to your warmth. He wants you to be a complete puddle for him to take care of once he's finished with you.

As he explores your body you explore his, running your hands over his muscled arms and back, savoring every part. You whimper as he pulls you closer, and your heart gallops. Before he loses himself in the moment, Jack reaches into his bedside drawer for a condom and carefully puts it on, then goes back to kissing you, gently nudging your thighs apart to make room for him. "If you want to stop, tell me," he says to you, and you reply with a kiss, eagerly bringing your body to his and he has no other thought in his head than to make you his once and for all.

Your eyes lock with his as he presses forward, easing himself in just a little at a time. Jesus, the pressure is so sweet, he's only an inch or so in and already he's stretching you. "I'm gonna take it easy with ya, cowgirl," he whispers, pulling out then easing back in, wanting you to be as wet as possible so you can take all of him. Your sweet, sharp little intakes of breath let him know you're feeling good, that you need more, and with each stroke he goes in deeper, until you're completely filled with him, as if you've needed him this way forever, as if you'd been born just to be his.

"You feel so good," you tell him, placing a kiss upon his neck, the skin of his throat rosy with the labor of holding back.

He sighs. eyes closed then open again because he wants to see you laid out beneath him this way. "God, you feel so right.." He moves his hips against you in slow, fluid movements, and in turn you take more of him into you, giving him a home within you. Jack's lips move over yours, then nuzzle your neck, tracing circular patterns over your breasts and back again, while your hands explore his broad shoulders, his brawny arms and the steady pacing of the pistoning of his hips driving against yours as the euphoria within your heart swells. "There's my good girl.. ah, such a tight fit.. but you're so nice and wet for me.."

"More," you gasp, nails lightly scratching on his back, and he gives you just that, taking your breath away as your bodies move together, quickly, towards your common goal. The electricity grows between you, the sweet, sweet friction doubles in your efforts, eliciting desperate moans and sweet gasps. Jack can feel the tension growing within you, the excitement building up to its greatest height. Jack whispers, "That's it, my sweet darlin', come for me.. oh I can feel you squeezin' all around me.." You whisper his name in a frenzy of desire, whisper it like a prayer as you feel the pleasure climb higher and higher. Without warning you shatter beneath him, crying out as you come.

Your sounds are the most divine music ever played. He can no longer hold back, gaining momentum as he brings himself to the tipping point, burying his face in your neck when he comes, releasing with a satiated exhale. You hold onto him, both of you trying to catch your breath, and you press a kiss to his shoulder. He looks up and smiles at you. "You doin' okay, darlin'?" he asks. His body is still but he remains inside of you, wanting to keep the feeling a little longer.

"I think I can die happy having experienced that with you," you sigh, tracing the outline of his jaw.

"You're too sweet," he shakes his head, grinning like a fool as he kisses your lips. "And I'd be more than happy to do that again and again.."

"Oh?" Your heart jumps for joy. "I suppose I could find time for that to happen," you tease him.

Jack smiles and nibbles on your neck. "Good, because I can think up a few other things to try."

You blush, despite still being naked and entangled with him. "What kinds of things?"

"Things like new positions, new places.. maybe once you're comfortable you'll let me tie you down and give you a little tease.." he smirks. "You know, just a few thoughts," he says casually with a gleam in his eye before kissing you gently.

"Holy hell," you whisper, utterly turned on again as you return his kiss. "I can't wait.."

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

#pedro pascal #agent jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey smut #kingsman golden circle #mentor x mentee #only one bed #ao3 smut #ao3 fanfic

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nekoatsume2 · 3 months ago

Text

it mo 🦭 miss me? sadly i still need help. as some of you might know- me + my abusers were evicted recently & had to move in to an apartment complex. because of being rushed & just not having time to pack outside of my job, we/i left so much behind. im mostly trying to build up from scratch bc we need so much and im only working part-time ($14/hr).

🥗 has been so shitty as of late, he keeps (stealing) eating my food/snacks when hes over in front of me, making SANDWICHES ON TOP OF WHERE MY PC SITS NO PLATE NO NOTHING and then verbally abusing for buying anything for myself. so now i have to hide anything he'll grill me over, again. he also is just critical of anything i do- sleeping, eating, walking / commuting, buying stuff, etc. 🎮 & 📚 have been a bit mellower but still treating me like they always have. ive been under so much stress being the only one w a job in this apartment (🎮📚 live here, 🥗 just comes over often).

for the apartment...: the fridge here was not working properly until monday and i couldn't really buy groceries & had to rely on fast food bc what i bought kept going bad haha! the wifi here is free but practically just unusable 24/7. if anything goes wrong in the apt, we have to wait awhile bc they decided to only have 1 maintenance worker for hundreds of apartments. we're on the top floor and the stairs are KILLING my legs. its okay other than that and im still overall glad i still have somewhere to rest my head (for less than $400 a week, has hot water & built in laundromat).

me, specifically? i cant eat in the mornings of the days i work anymore. the anxiety is immense and my throat just wont open. i still wake up nauseous. i can barely eat before 12pm most days. my arfid has gotten even worse, i cant even swallow regular sandwich bread anymore. my workplace also has issues with water leaks & being able to have water on so its a coin toss if i can ever use the bathroom there if need be. lyft rides are more expensive now (can get as bad as $50). i need time to learn/get used to the buses here. chronic pain is kicking my ass & i have no weed to help. at least i seem to be ok work performance wise. i just have a lot on my shoulders.

so i need any money help i can get. please :'). also i still have comms open, just dm me here on tumblr <3 if thats more up ur alley.

heres a list of what i need 🦸 feel free to ask about why i might need something here/help but only if you have the $ to back it up lol:

k0fi link 🪶

c4shapp link 💲

g0fundme link 💸

buymeacoffee link ☕

dm for: p4ypal z3lle stripe chime wisely, etc!

rbs turned off = outdated/goal met/out of time

#⦻#∆#⑅#bold text #italics #small text

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yxngbxkkie · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! Love your writing! I was reading through the prompts and I think #4 and #7 would be awesome for Chan with y/n.

If you’re still doing drunk confessions. I think 4 and 13 for Channie would be so apt. He would be taking care of reader when they’ve had too much and they just word vom (as well as real vom) their feelings.

Hi!! I don’t know if you are still doing the drunk prompts, but if you are I think #4 "I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back” would be great with Chan. I think it would be really cute to have him saying those words to someone because that seems so him, but whatever works! I just love reading your stuff! 💕

number 4 with channie was requested a lot so i combined all of the prompts together. i do hope you like it!! thank you again for requesting 💓

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

4. "I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back."

7. "Don't tell my sober me that I told you I love you. It was a secret."

13. "Say that again after two coffees at least, and I will be yours."

"Have you seen Channie?" You drunkenly ask your friend, glancing around the packed bar. She stands on her toes and begins to look for him as well, resting her hand on your forearm.

"I think he's by the bar, babe. You okay?" She checks in with you, and you meet her gaze.

You nod your head yes before placing a kiss on her cheek. "I'm good! I'm gonna go find him," you giggle and pat her shoulder.

She gives you a smile as you walk closer towards the bar. You swivel your head around at the sound of Chan's laugh, attempting to pinpoint where it came from.

The man in question sits with Changbin at the end of the bar. A smile comes to your lips as you quickly rush to them. You rest your hands on Chan's shoulders as soon as you reach them.

"Channie! There you are," you grin and slide your hands across his chest. Chan giggles at your affection, his fingers gliding along your arm.

"Were you looking for me?" He questions you with a laugh, turning his head to the side.

You nod your head, letting it rest on his shoulder. "Wanna take a couple of shots?" You ask him with a slight smirk.

"You know I don't drink, sweetheart," Chan sighs, tapping your arm gently.

A pout comes to your lips as you lift your head. "Just one?" You try to convince, hanging on him like he's a tree.

Chan shakes his head and releases a quick sigh. "You know I won't," he sings, moving to wrap his arm around your waist.

"Fine, fine," you whisper.

Changbin leans towards you, tapping your arm. "I'll take a shot with you," he says with a smile, and your eyes light up.

"Yeah!?" You gasp, tripping over your feet as you rush towards the younger member.

Channie saves you from falling over, his grip on you tightening. "Maybe we should stop for the night," he tries to stop you, glancing towards his member.

"No! Just one more?!" You beg, resting an arm on Changbin.

"One more," Chan points before wagging his finger. "And then we go home, okay?"

You nod excitingly and turn to face Changbin. The two of you high-five one another before he orders two shots of tequila. The bartender sets two shots in front of you, and you quickly grab one.

After Changbin pays for it, he raises his shot glass towards you. "Cheers!" He shouts, startling you slightly before downing the liquor.

You slam the shot glass onto the bartop, releasing a low groan. "God, I hate tequila," you cry out with a laugh.

Chan chuckles and rests his hands on your shoulders. "Come on. Say goodbye," he reminds you softly.

You say goodbye to Changbin, and Chan leads you out of the bar. You fish your phone out from your pocket, texting your friend that you left safely.

Chan keeps you steady until you reach the vehicle. He opens the door for you, keeping his hand nearby in case you need help. He shuts the door after you buckle yourself in before rushing towards the other side.

He gives you a small smile after buckling his seatbelt. The vehicle begins to move, and you rest your head against the seat. Chan texts the group chat he has with the members, informing him that he's left with you.

A blush dusts his cheeks as they start making comments about the two of you being alone together. He rolls his eyes before putting his phone away, turning his head to look at you.

"Are you feeling alright?" Chan asks you, his hand gently touching your cheek.

"I'm a little nauseous," you say quietly, trying not to think about vomiting.

Chan pouts and checks the navigation. "We'll be home in ten minutes," he informs you, moving some of your hair out of your face. "Take deep breaths for me, okay?"

You nod your head, inhaling deeply through your nose. You exhale from your lips, keeping your eyes shut. You continue to take deep breaths for the remainder of the drive.

Chan helps you out of the back seat once the vehicle is parked. Another groan leaves your lips as soon as you stand up straight. You lean your head on Chan's shoulder while the two of you walk into the building.

"Almost there, sweetheart," he whispers to you, his free hand gently rubbing your back.

The urge to throw up doesn't hit you until you're standing outside his apartment door. You place a hand over your mouth and smack Chan's arm.

"Hurry, please," you sob.

Chan's movements speed up at the sound of your voice. He quickly unlocks the front door, allowing you to run inside. You rush into the bathroom, falling to your knees before you violently throw up.

Tears stream down your cheeks, and heavy pants leave your lips. Chan combs his fingers through your hair, holding it out of your face. You throw up again, and Chan immediately rubs your back.

"I'm sorry," you groan, resting your forehead against your hand.

He giggles from behind you and gently scratches your back. "It's okay, baby. You're okay," Chan reassures you.

You feel well enough to rest your back against the wall. Chan moves to kneel in front of you, setting one of his hands on your knee. "I love you," you whisper, touching his fingers gently.

His heart jumps in his chest at your confession. Chan flips his hand over and laces his fingers with yours. "You know," he starts, the smile on his lips widening, "I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back."

A laugh comes from your lips, your eyes staying glued on your intertwined fingers. "I shouldn't have told you that," you mumble, tapping his hand with your thumb. "Don't tell sober me that I told you I love you. It was a secret."

Chan giggles and nods his head. "I won't say a word," he zips his lips.

The sun abruptly wakes you from your slumber. A groan leaves your lips while raising a hand to block the sun. You shift your body to face the opposite direction when Chan walks into the room.

"Morning," he whispers to you with a smile.

You smile fondly at him. "Morning, Channie."

He places a cup of coffee on the nightstand before crouching down. "How are you feeling?" Chan asks with a concerned look in his eyes.

"I've got a huge headache, but other than that, I'm okay," you tell him, hugging the pillow.

"That's good, baby," he grins and rubs your forearm. Your heart pounds against your chest as the two of you stare at one another. Chan brings his hand to your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "I love you."

Your eyes flutter shut at his words. "Say that again after two coffees at least, and I will be yours," you mumble, opening your eyes again.

Chan giggles but nods his head in agreement. He stands back up and hands you the coffee mug. "Come out when you're ready," he tells you before kissing your forehead.

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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cupidjyu · 1 year ago

Text

the sweetener you are

hyunjae x reader (idea from the anon who requested childhood friends to lovers!)

summary: when a mysterious man moves into the apartment next door, you realize that he’s your childhood best friend who’s disappeared for years. he changed, his life seeming to have soured. but you could just be his sweetener, the one to make him smile again

genre: best friends to lovers, and boy-next-door sorta thing, hurt/comfort for him because he deserves the world, nightmares, healing, one bed trope, youre forced to move in with him hahaha am i evil, back hugs, he acts "drunk" when tired (dont ask why, it was just an excuse to write him being clingy), hes flirty ish and teasing, hes shirtless for like one second (BECAUSE.), sleepy love confessions, kissing, is there tension? i can't tell myself, “sweetheart” good god notes: school started so expect much much less after this... so see you in a bit 🥲🥲but hope u enjoy!!! this is literally just yumi who needs to stop writing long interpretations of their love for hyunjae in the form of fics + song inspo! word count: 12.7k

You coughed. You choked. And then you glared straight at Younghoon who was staring back in complete alarm. Setting the unfinished glass down on the counter with a loud clink, you clenched your jaw with unspoken curse words that threatened to escape your lips.

“This tastes like dirt,” You garbled out. Rushing over to one of your cupboards, you pulled out one of those small sugar packets that you liked to swipe from those cute coffee shops. If it was free, why not take a few? Ripping the paper open, you poured it into the drink that didn’t even look like it belonged on this planet. It was both… green and yellowish-blue at the same time.

Younghoon gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth dramatically. “That’s not healthy!”

“But it tastes so bad,” You whined. “It needs a sweetener.”

He glared, dragging his hand all the way down his jaw in an unattractive way. “It’s an herbal drink. It’s meant to taste bad. Think of all the health benefits you could’ve gotten out of that without the sugar.”

“You made this?” You scrunched up your face in disgust.

“No, I–” He laughed nervously. “My mom did. I promised her I would finish it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And you couldn’t because it tasted so bad. So you’re making me finish it.”

He gave you a pained smile as he stepped away. “I– who said that?”

“Why’re we even friends?” You questioned before jabbing a finger at the door. “Get out.”

Younghoon pouted but he eventually obliged, opening the apartment door. “You still owe me money for that overpriced tiny piece of cake by the way.”

“It tasted good!” You shot back.

“It did not.” He sighed. “It’s just you with your horrible sweet tooth. Don’t even– hey…” You noticed him peeking out of your door and into the hallway. And then he leaned back in, searching your face with wonder. “Someone’s moving in next door.”

You brightened with interest at that, practically jumping off where you were sitting on the kitchen counter. Bounding over to the door, you poked your head out under Younghoon’s, just like they did in the cartoons. Squinting your eyes, all you could see was a tall man with a cap on that covered most of his face.

“Who’s that?” Younghoon said, slightly too loud for your liking.

With a groan, you elbowed him in the ribs. “Shh…how would I know? Though... he does look better than that old dude who constantly yelled at those courtroom TV shows like he was the judge.” It was like the apartment next to yours was cursed. Magic wasn’t real here. Or at least, in this world. But you still believed that a witch had strolled by and casually placed a hex on Apt 245 for the fun of it. For the time that you’ve been here, you’ve seen about five people move in there. And they were never happy.

Once, there were two parents who had to deal with multiple children who would not stop crying. You hadn’t slept a wink the whole time they were there. They did receive a noise complaint though. Another time, there was a teenager who couldn’t even properly pay off the rent. He didn’t have a job. But he could somehow afford the loudest speaker where he would play the most gut-wrenching, saddest music ever. He got evicted.

But this man… well–he looked decent. Really. No evident curse here. Or at least, yet. When he turned around, you could see that he was very tall and… broad. Apparently, that was the first thing you noticed. He also seemed to pick up the moving boxes with ease and when he had stepped just the slightest to the side, you could see the impossibly perfect slope of his nose. Also a very odd thing to notice.

Younghoon grasped your arm, pulling you back into your own apartment.

“Don’t fall in love.”

You gaped at him. “What? I don’t even know who he is.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But he’s tall. And broad. And has a nice nose. I know you. I know your type.”

Shit.

“You do know me,” You mumbled sheepishly. “But still!” You poked him harshly. “I won’t fall in love. I probably won’t even see him for like– a month. Or he’s going to be cursed and moved out like the others. Don’t worry.”

Your friend narrowed his eyes in skepticism but he eventually nodded. “As long as you don’t bump into him tomorrow or something.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Of course. I won’t fall in love.”

You didn’t fall in love. You fell onto the floor.

And you also happened to bump into him the next day ironically enough.

If only—if only—you decided to pick up your mail yesterday like you were supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. And by this, you meant being distracted by a cup that rolled out of your new neighbor’s door and then walking straight into his chest.

You squeaked in horror. “I’m sorry!” And then you stepped backwards, tripped on your badly-timed untied shoelace, and ended up on the floor in the middle of the hallway.

When you looked up, there was a pretty hand that reached out to help you up. Taking it with burning cheeks, you could finally see what this man looked like up close and without a cap.

And you would have expected maybe one of those boy-next-door romantic moments where you would fall into his arms and start dating the next day. Oh, and also kiss and eventually get married. But no, you—

“Hyunjae?”

The man—Hyunjae—gaped at you with comically wide eyes.

“Y/n,” He breathed out.

As long-lost childhood friends, the most sensible thing to do was ask how he was. But you often defied expectations, positively or negatively, and so instead you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug.

Hyunjae, whom you’ve known since you were just young kids, has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. He used to be on the elementary school track team while you… were on the bleachers trying to tell the difference between subtraction and addition. But luckily, Hyunjae was both a smart and kind kid and so he had stopped in the middle of his running to sit with you and teach what your teacher couldn’t do properly.

He was always one year older, always more mature and experienced. But he tended to throw that away just for you and join in on playing games with you when he should’ve been studying for an exam. But he did so to cheer you up. He was sweet like that and you adored spending your afternoons after school with him.

The two of you even got to experience those dreadful high school years together, except there was always that haunting realization—that he would eventually graduate first. But he always reassured you.

“It’s just one year, silly,” He joked, pulling you into a side hug, one that perfectly portrayed his understanding of your worries. “I’ll text and call you all the time. Promise.”

Promises were often broken and this wasn’t any different. For when he had left for college, he never contacted you ever again. You had tried to reach out, but he never responded. And so, for your whole college term, you never saw Lee Hyunjae, your supposed “best friend,” ever again.

And you should have been mad—no, furious to see him again. You should have pushed him away and went on with your life while skillfully avoiding him. But just the simple sight of him brought back all those fond memories–baking cupcakes, falling asleep together just after screaming over a horror movie, holding each other when life just gets too much... And so you found yourself buried into his chest, holding him tightly.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered again, shutting your eyes in both contentment and fear of him pushing you away again.

But you felt two hands snake around your middle, hugging you back. There were a million questions running through your mind at that moment, wondering why he had disappeared but welcomed you so easily. But you set them aside, choosing to just melt into his still familiar embrace.

Finally though, you managed to pull away, looking at him with a fond smile. He smiled back. He had grown even more handsome than before. He managed to become taller, broader, and more charming all at once. His features were sharp, more mature. Something about him–the way he was dressed in a literal suit–really portrayed to you that he really was an adult now, as opposed to the teenager who procrastinated on science projects.

“How are you?” He smiled, almost too polite for your liking. You could see the way he stood, awkwardly and with fidgeting hands. And that was when it all hit you like a truck.

Your eyebrows suddenly furrowed, your lips pulled into a scowl, and your eyes narrowed as you stepped forward. “How am I? No. How could you–” You banged a fist on his firm chest. “–leave me–” Another punch. “–like that–” He stepped back in growing alarm. “–and act all polite and uneasy as if we weren’t best friends for years?” Both of your fists lingered on his chest, your strength growing weak from frustration.

“Y/n, I–” He winced.

“Actually, I hate you.” You glared. But your words differentiated from your actions when your hand came to smooth down his crumpled tie. “I don’t want to see you ever again. You’re an absolute asshole and I–” But your eyes met with his, his gaze amused and soft. And then you sniffled, looking down at the ground, the urge to cry suddenly overcoming you.

Hyunjae laughed quietly. “I’m sorry. If you would allow me to explain?”

“Great,” You grumbled. “Then do so. Since you’ve owed me an explanation after all these years.”

He glanced at his watch. “I have work. Tomorrow, maybe? Trust me.”

You looked at him in bewilderment. “Work? But you haven’t even unpacked yet.” You eyed his apartment with the door open. There were multiple boxes strewn about, some not even open yet.

“Emergencies,” He sighed. That was when you noticed just how exhausted he looked. “I have to go.”

“Oh,” You stuttered. “Okay. I– good luck?”

Hyunjae smiled, pinching your cheek just like he had done all those years ago. He seemed to be completely unfazed over the fact that you just punched him in anger. “Thank you.” And he was locking the door behind him and heading for the elevator. But just as he was walking away, you felt the need to call something out. Just a few words.

“Hyunjae?” You said.

He turned around, tilting his head. You never knew just how well work attire suited him. He looked almost… attractive. But god, what were you thinking?

“I missed you.”

He smiled but he never quite gave you a response as the elevator ding had interrupted him. Instead, he just gave you a small wave.

It was odd. Awkward. But one step at a time, you figured. It’s been years after all.

The next day, as promised, he had shown up to your door. This time, since it was the weekend, he was wearing a simple white shirt. One that still never failed to accentuate his broad shoulders.

But initially, you thought it was Younghoon and not a guy who you haven’t seen for multiple years. So you may or may not have opened the door with your hair like a bird’s nest and your sleepwear on that… wasn’t meant for the general public to see. Apparently, Hyunjae fits in the general public category now. Best friend? No, you hate him.

Kind of.

Not really.

Stumbling to the door, you flung it open, your eyes barely open. Immediately, you were met with the sight of just. Long legs. Not very helpful.

“Who–” And then you looked up, only to meet Hyunjae’s eyes. Choking on your spit, you straightened up. “Hello,” You blurted out in a monotone voice.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his chin down with amusement. “And who’s the uneasy one now?”

“Sorry, I…” Your eyes trailed down to what you were wearing. With an internal gasp, you stepped backward. “I’m going to– change.”

He widened his eyes and then his gaze also traveled down. His cheeks were oddly red and he cleared his throat, looking away.

You cringed and shut the door in his face before he could even say anything.

Now in proper clothes that were for the general public, you opened the door again. He was still standing there with that same smile. The same kind, caring one he always regarded you with even when you were just kids.

“Where should we talk?” You asked.

His eyes glanced over to his own door. “My place?” He offered quietly. “I have unpacking to do.”

You stared at him silently. And then you nodded with an excited smile. “I can help.”

“Oh no,” He laughed softly. “You don’t have to. I’m fine on my–”

“You don’t look fine,” You interrupted. And without thinking, your hand came up to cup his cheek, turning him to face you. “You look tired.”

He stared at you wordlessly before sighing. “I guess I am.”

“So let me help.” You grinned. “I’m using my vacation days from work right now anyway.”

He could only mutter a shy “okay” as he opened the door for you to enter. Looking around, you found that the only things that he had unpacked lacked much of any personality. He took out the necessities and a bunch of… work. Papers, a computer, work suits and the like.

“You seem busy,” You remarked as you walked over to the box labeled “decorations” only for there to literally be one single plant that looked like it needed to be watered. In fact, it was on the brink of death. Immediately, your face was contorting in worry and you turned to where he was just standing at the entrance with an embarrassed expression. “What… happened to your initial dream?”

He approached you and peered into the box. “What dream?”

“The one where you wanted to have a place full of pretty plants.”

“Yeah well,” He laughed bitterly. “Circumstances change aspirations.”

You gulped nervously at his change of tone. Something was bothering him. Something, in particular, caused him to move here. You led him to the couch and sat next to him.

“So what is it? Why did you cut everyone off and– disappear?” You asked cautiously.

He looked at you for a long minute like he was trying to figure out a response for himself. And finally, he just sighed in defeat.

“Problems.”

“Like what?” You prodded.

“A lot. And I wouldn’t want to lay them all on you.” He gave you a weak smile. You regarded him with a soft look in your eyes, searching his face for any sort of answer. All you could see was a flame that had long been put out.

“Then tell me one.”

“One?” He bit his lip nervously. “One…”

“Just one,” You said gently.

“Like the one where the place I used to work at didn’t treat me right? That they refused to give me anything?” He mumbled, his voice trailing off with embarrassment. “So I moved here so that I could get away? That one?”

You froze at his words. You processed them and that was when it began to make sense. He wasn’t going to work yesterday. He was going to an interview. His computer was open to job openings and the papers weren’t reports. They were resumes.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered. But he was already distancing himself, standing up from the couch. You gazed at him with concern as you stood up, only for him to take a step backward.

“Why are you…” You frowned. “It’s okay, you know. Did you think I would look at you any differently?”

His jaw clenched. “Well, I did cut you off because I didn’t want to worry you. You always told me I would be successful, the best. So how exactly could I face you after they…”

“That’s not your fault. And I’m sorry for putting that on you,” You mustered, stepping closer. This time, he didn’t step away. He allowed you to do anything. He let you trail a hand down to his wrist, holding it gently. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me more. I’m sorry.”

He watched you with slight surprise, and with his lips pulled into a straight line, he whispered a small, “I should be the one who’s sorry.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Don’t be.”

He stayed silent at that, simply studying your features. You could tell he still wanted to apologize. But then the corner of his lips lifted slightly. “You grew up.” His tone was gentle, so kind, just like you’ve always known. It was a little quieter than before though, more closed off as if he was afraid–scared of what you would think of him.

You laughed bashfully. “And so did you.” Your hand trailed up to his shoulder. “Did you start working out?”

He smirked. “Why, do you like my progress?”

You snorted. “Could improve.”

He scoffed yet he only looked at you with fondness. The two of you simply stood there, in the midst of his empty apartment, just staring at each other. And then you giggled. He laughed as well before reaching forward and pulling you into his arms, squeezing you so tight that you felt the air leave your lungs.

“Ah–” You choked. “Hyunjae. You’re killing me.”

“I’m showing you my newfound strength,” He joked, stepping away. You were about to refute but instead, you felt your gaze wandering to his arms. Since when were they so toned and–

“Very funny,” You weakly replied. Escaping from his persisting soft gaze, you stepped away and approached the various boxes. “What can I help you with?”

Hyunjae didn’t have much. Apparently, all those large boxes contained about three small things.

“I overestimated,” He replied with a sheepish smile when you asked.

Most of his things were put away yet when you looked around, the apartment was void of any joy or charm. The only boxes that were left were his clothes which he claimed he could do another day. After putting away his single cup and plate–that’s all he had apparently–you turned around only to see that he was crouched, bending towards that same plant that you pointed out. Its leaves were drooping and the stem wilting, as his fingers gently prodded at it. When you looked closely, you could see a melancholy look on his face, a small frown tugging on his lips.

It was true, that Hyunjae had many dreams when he was younger. That was normal for many people. But to witness it all dissipate before your sight, no sign of light behind his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel your heart clench.

Walking over, you crouched down next to him. He gave you a forced smile.

“Kind of sad,” He remarked with a disappointed sigh. “I bought it only for me to fail to take care of it.”

“You can always buy another one.”

“Mhm,” He hummed dully. “Sure.”

You watched him wordlessly, observing the way his gaze fell when one of the leaves broke off. Shaking your head, you suddenly stood up.

“Let’s go out.”

He looked up at you in surprise. “What?”

“I’ll be your tour guide of the town,” You joked. “I know everything.”

Standing up with you, he stole a glance at his phone. “I can’t.”

“Why?” You pouted.

“I’m waiting for my result from the interview.”

You sighed and took his wrist in yours, pulling him to the door. “You need to get your mind off that for a second.”

“But–”

“Please?” You looked up at him, even batting your eyelashes. “Just for a moment?” You also exaggerated a pout.

He blinked in shock, his eyes trailing over your expression. “What are you doing?”

“Making you feel bad. Is it working?” You held back a grin.

He huffed out a laugh. “Definitely. Fine, just for a moment.”

You grinned and you were already pulling on your shoes and bounding out the door, leaving Hyunjae to smile to himself.

“This is a convenience store.” You pointed at it with a bright smile.

He rolled his eyes. “I know what a convenience store is.”

You laughed and led him to the next block before abruptly stopping. “This is the karaoke bar,” You said, pointing at the nearby building.

“Fun,” He muttered.

“We should go one day.” You smiled. “Actually no.” You scowled. “I got drunk there once and I think they banned me because I was dancing on the tables.”

Hyunjae turned to you in slight shock. “You? Drunk?”

“What?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “What is it?”

“I just… you always said that you hated the taste of alcohol,” He replied in wonder.

“Times change.” You grinned, nudging his shoulder. He gave you a small smile back.

Then, you led him to your favorite spot. The central park in the middle of town. It was a beautiful day out, the sky bright and blue. You loved to sit at one of the benches, watching birds fly by or kids play happily on the playground.

“Wait here.” You patted the seat. And then you were running off, nowhere to be seen. Hyunjae simply sat there, observing the calm atmosphere. When you came back, you were holding a stick of cotton candy in your hand. It was large, almost covering your whole face. Hyunjae chuckled, taking it from you so you wouldn’t trip on the ground.

“Aren’t we too old for this?” He questioned.

You shook your head. “I still love it.”

He took a bite and turned to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s so sweet.”

“That’s why it’s good!” You stared at him like he was the craziest man alive.

“It’s because you’ve always had a sweet tooth.” He frowned, gently placing it back in your hands.

“Fine,” You scoffed. “If that’s how you treat your best friend.” And you were taking a bite on the opposite side. When you pulled it away from your face, you were startled by a loud laugh. From Hyunjae, specifically. Turning to him with wide eyes, you could even see him smiling.

It was not like the other smiles that you’ve seen so far. Those ones were small, lacking much of any emotion. But this one was wide, full with amusement and happiness.

“Wha– oh,” You huffed, realizing that there was cotton candy on your nose. Hyunjae laughed even louder and suddenly he was leaning in to gently wipe it off with his finger.

“Cutie,” He whispered fondly, his other hand gently cupping the side of your face.

Your heart stuttered at the word. “Wh-what?”

He gulped, pulling away like he was burned. “Oh, I…”

You quickly recovered, instead scooching even closer to him so that your shoulders were touching. “You think I’m cute? Even when I’m all grown up?”

“Always.”

“I missed your smile,” You stated as the two of you were walking back to the apartment complex.

You had expected him to point out that he had smiled other times before. But instead, he gazed at you with soft eyes.

“I did too. It’s been a while since I’ve felt so happy,” He said. “All thanks to you.”

“Of course!” You beamed, looping an arm with his before pulling him closer. “You can always count on me.”

He didn’t respond this time. But his expression said it all. Thank you, thank you, thank you, was all you could see in his dark brown eyes. Smiling, you bumped your body playfully against his.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” You asked.

Again, you found yourself in his apartment the next day. Apparently, he had just gotten back from running and he needed to take a shower. So, you were looking through his boxes full of clothes. You sorted through them, folding them until you came across a hoodie. You didn’t recognize it, but the fabric of it was so… soft and warm. Your hands held onto it, contemplating what it would feel like if you just–

The door to the bathroom creaked open. You gasped and shoved it behind you, greatly hoping that he didn’t notice you staring at it longingly. But alas, you just had to have slow reflexes at this moment.

“Do you like it?” He asked. “Put it on.”

You laughed awkwardly, turning to face him, only for your protests to come stuttering to a stop. Your eyes trailed down from his damp hair to his… whole torso. His bare torso. He was shirtless. Right out of the shower, water droplets sitting prettily on his collarbones, traveling all the way down to his chest and his– he definitely works out.

“Oh,” You breathed out, your cheeks flushing red as you frantically looked away. This was not how you expected to reunite with your best friend after so long.

“Sorry,” He replied, his voice low. “My shirt’s in there.”

You nodded, refusing to look up. It was quiet for a moment, too quiet that you contemplated just shoving his clothes into his hands while dutifully avoiding the sight of his bare chest.

But then he was right beside you and he smelled so, so good as he leaned over you, his hand gently grasping your waist. To take a shirt. Very unnecessary but it still left you inhaling sharply. Feeling yourself go dizzy as you stood there, eyes trained on the ground, and every single muscle in all of human anatomy completely rigid until you were sure he was properly dressed.

Taking a peek, you were met with his teasing smile.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” You mustered.

“You were staring weren’t you?” He leaned even closer, his eyes searching yours with amusement. His hand gently lifted your chin up, making you swallow thickly at the way he was gazing at you with a small smirk.

“I wasn’t,” You whispered shakily.

“Hm,” He hummed. “You look a little flushed though.”

“It was nothing,” You shoved him away, feeling like your face was on fire. “You shouldn’t just walk around like that. It’s…”

“Mhm.” He only continued to smile wider. “Whatever you say.”

You groaned, abruptly turning away to hide your reddening cheeks. But then your eyes landed back on that same hoodie.

“I know that look on your face,” He teased, picking it up. “You like it.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay,” He simply replied, shrugging and turning around. You were just about to question his suspiciously short response when out of nowhere, he whipped back around and pulled the hoodie over you. Immediately, you were encompassed in warmth and– did he always smell this good? And why was he staring at you so softly with that stupid fond smile and why was your heart beating a mile a minute and–

“Hyunjae,” You groaned. “What was that for?”

But he stayed silent, simply examining you wearing his clothes. You tilted your head.

“Do I look good?”

His breath hitched and now it was him with reddening cheeks as he backed away. You stifled a laugh as you stepped forward, cornering him against the edge of the kitchen counter.

“And I know that look on your face,” You teased back. “You like it.”

His eyes fluttered, almost like he was fighting the urge to look over your body once again. He inhaled deeply and then he straightened, leaning over you this time. With a subtle smile, he whispered something that left shivers down your spine.

“I love it.”

Oh my god. You treaded backwards, suddenly feeling conscious of everything. His eyes on you–all over you–the way the shirt clung to his body, the rushing thought of the fact that you saw him without it on just a few minutes ago–everything came over you like a bucket of ice water.

“I–” With wide eyes, he only continued to approach you, the scent of his shampoo overcoming you quickly. You couldn’t come up with a comeback anymore. At first, you thought that this was just friendly banter, the type that you guys would do in the school cafeteria. But this–this was something different. With the way he was looking at you with darkening eyes, you weren’t quite sure this was that “friendly banter” thing anymore.

“Shut up,” You blurted out as you pulled the hoodie off you and thrust it into his chest.

“Why?” He grinned. “I like this game.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What game is this exactly?”

“The game of making the other person flustered.”

You stood there for a moment, thinking. You couldn’t quite come up with a verbal comeback. So you could instead…

Taking a step forward, you hooked a hand around the back of his neck, letting your touch linger there for a moment. A stuttering breath was caught thickly in his throat as he looked down at you in bafflement.

And then you let your fingertips trail around, down his neck, across his collarbone, slightly pulling down the hem of his shirt and stopping just at his chest where you could feel his heart thump erratically.

Your trace on his skin left sparks flying in your heart and when you had looked up, you knew that Hyunjae was experiencing the same thing.

He was looking down at you, completely speechless and his eyes round in shock. You smiled in triumph, leaning close to one of his reddening ears.

“Then I win.”

And you were heading for the door. But just as you turned around, you could see Hyunjae who was still leaning against the counter, cheeks now red as he stared down at the ground. You giggled, closing the door behind you.

The next time you saw Hyunjae, unsurprisingly, he looked exhausted again. In fact, he didn’t even recognize you at first with how he was gazing off into space rather than unlocking his own door.

“Come over tonight,” You offered.

He raised an eyebrow. “To do what?”

You choked. “Not that. Movie night!” You winked, patting his shoulder before leaving for the grocery store. You made sure to mentally add popcorn to your list.

And so, when it was pitch dark at night, you had opened your door to Hyunjae, fidgeting nervously at the entrance. You laughed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in.

“Don’t be nervous.” You grinned. “It’s just me.”

As you set up the movie, you couldn’t help but notice Hyunjae looking around your apartment. He seemed to be taking in all of your decorations, and the fact that you had more than one cup and plate. You smiled.

“We can go shopping if you want,” You spoke up. “For your apartment.”

He glanced at you in shock. But he eventually nodded with a small smile, that same one you noticed that he often forced when he was tired and down.

Now sitting on the couch, side-by-side but never quite touching, the two of you watched a movie. It was a comfortable silence and whenever you would glance at Hyunjae, he would notice and turn his attention back to you. And every time you would make eye contact, you made sure to give him a bright smile, one that showed him that “I’m always here for you.”

"Staring?" He teased.

"In fact I am," You replied. "Forget the movie, you're the award-winning feature."

He laughed again. The same bright one at the park.

"I didn't take you to be such a flirter," He remarked.

"I'm not," You refuted. "You really are amazing."

He gave you a smile that wasn't so convincing. "If you say so."

Near the resolution of the film, you found yourself scooching over to him, letting your shoulders touch. But that wasn’t exactly enough, so you lifted his arm so that you could rest your head on his chest, his body warmth easily spreading to yours.

“What are you doing?” He muttered.

For a second, you thought he might actually be annoyed. But, when you looked up, you could see his softening eyes and the slight blush on his cheeks. You huffed in amusement and you only persisted, snuggling close to his chest. Eventually, he gave up on the whole tough act and he let his arm wrap around you, rubbing your arm in up-and-down motions.

You didn’t notice that you had fallen asleep.

Though you did briefly remember two… moments. One of them was him cautiously bringing you to your bed. The other being a warm hand softly caressing your cheek.

You woke up alone. Good! Who else did you expect? Rubbing your eyes, there was a constant sound ringing in your ears. The doorbell, you groaned. Stumbling to the door, you were hoping maybe… Hyunjae? But instead, it was your landlord. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern.

She sighed, shaking her head.

“Bad news.”

When it was Hyunjae this time who had invited you over, you were pleasantly surprised. Opening the door, you could see him sitting at the table, staring intently at his computer.

Tilting your head, you were about to ask what he was looking at. But then he suddenly jumped up, the chair almost falling over. There was a bright smile on his face as he rushed over to you.

“Hyunjae?” You looked at him in confusion.

“I got the job,” He exclaimed. “I got it.”

“You did?” You gasped. “That’s so– that’s amazing! Congratul–” You inhaled sharply when you felt two hands grasp onto your waist. And suddenly, your whole world shifted once you realized that he was literally picking you up and twirling you around. You laughed shyly as you allowed him to, watching fondly at the way he smiled so, so freely.

Once he had slowed down, there was an impending thought in the back of your mind that appeared from all of the adrenaline. He could put you down and you could lean in and maybe… maybe– press your lips to his as an extra cheer. Mentally slapping yourself, you felt your cheeks grow hot. Again, what were you thinking?

His hands were still on your waist, the both of you out of breath. You smiled, giggling softly. He smiled back, his eyes bright and sparkling.

“I’m proud of you,” You finally said.

“It’s all thanks to you,” He replied.

“Hm, well,” You huffed. “Guess who lost their apartment.”

He gaped at you. “What?”

“Not permanently,” You groaned. “But there’s been a technical problem that has to be investigated and fixed. So I can’t stay there for the meantime.”

He looked at you, deep in thought. And then his hands tightened on your waist. “Then stay here with me.”

Now it was your turn to gawk at him. “What?”

“Please.” He smiled. “I owe you.”

You blushed. “I didn’t do much.”

“You did.” He walked forward, nearly caging you against the wall. “Everything. You’ve helped me get this job.” Another step forward. “I’m indebted to you.”

“H-hyunjae,” You stuttered, trying your best to avoid stealing a glance at his lips.

“Just temporarily.”

You made a mental pro and con list. Pros–He was your childhood best friend meaning that he knew you best. Cons–what if things changed? What if you… fell? And you didn’t mean physically.

With a hesitant sigh in defeat, you responded quietly.

“Temporarily.”

When you and Hyunjae had art class together, you learned a little bit more about him. He was always the one who enjoyed the sketching, the outlining with the black pen, and shading in grey. You, on the other hand, were the one who would color in between those lines with vibrant colors, brightening the picture into something truly complete.

That was how you complimented each other. People often painted him out to be cold and blunt, but you always saw past that. It was always you who thought that he was the sweetest person you’ve ever met–the one who took care of you when you were sick and who pulled you away from passing cars.

Just like one of those art projects, you began to liven up his apartment with your own things. Of course, you didn’t bring everything, but the simple pieces of your toothbrush next to his and your coat hung up on the rack, were enough to make the puzzle feel just complete.

Soon enough, the evening came which brought the dilemma of where you would sleep.

“The couch,” Hyunjae spoke up, walking out of the bathroom again, with damp hair. But at least he was fully clothed this time. Still, that vision was practically ingrained into your mind.

“You’re right.” You nodded in agreement. “I’ll–”

“Not you,” He huffed. “Me.”

“Oh,” You breathed out. Abruptly you stood up in defiance. “No!” You blurted out. “That’s rude.”

He looked at you entirely unimpressed. “I’m being a good host. A gentleman.”

“Exactly.” You scowled. “You’re going to make me feel like I’m intruding. And look who invited me in the first place?”

He sighed, glancing at the bedroom door. “There’s only one bed.”

“Then we’ll share,” You replied, completely sure of yourself. Hyunjae didn’t respond so you lifted your chin high and walked past him and into the bedroom as odd as it may sound. However, in the corner of your eye, you could see that his ears were slightly red.

You may have underestimated the sheer awkwardness. Just a bit. Maybe a lot.

The two of you stood on either side of the bed, facing each other, contemplating the fact that this would be the first time you would be sleeping together. Actually, it wasn’t really awkward per se. It was more… hilarious. You pursed your lips, trying to stifle your laughter, while Hyunjae’s cheeks were puffed out in embarrassment.

Again, as the bolder one, you climbed under the sheets first. Still, Hyunjae was just standing, hesitating. You squinted up at him through the darkness.

Even under the dim lighting, you could see that his cheeks were incredibly flushed.

“I think I’ll just go back to the–” He couldn’t even finish his sentence because you were grabbing onto his hand and pulling him down into bed. He didn’t really protest though as you could sense him slowly melting into the warmth of it.

The lamp was off now and you were both succumbed to darkness. It was silent, only the sound of Hyunjae’s calm breathing. You weren’t exactly tired right now. You knew that it would take you a while to fall asleep. But that was fine! You would just wait until he fell asleep first.

Except, when you turned on your side to face him, you could see him staring back, big, round doe eyes on you. So, scratch that. And now you were cold which you weren’t used to. Your apartment was usually the perfect temperature, but this one left you shivering all over.

Unconsciously, you began to shift closer to his body. He’s always been the warm one. That used to be your strategy to not freeze to death when the two of you would walk down the winter festival together.

Suddenly though, you felt an arm across your waist and steady breathing on the side of your neck.

“Hm?” You hummed in confusion, wondering if the chest against your shoulder was just a hallucination.

But then he replied in a quiet, lower voice.

“Is this okay?” He whispered.

Oh, this was more than okay. You were familiar with his embrace. But to feel it just moments before you fell asleep brought a sudden bout of tranquility.

“Perfect.” You smiled to yourself, curling up to his body in which he held you closer in response. It was warm, comforting, just perfect. It didn’t take you a while to fall asleep anymore.

When you awoke, you were slightly—no, very confused about why it was still dark out. You were pretty sure the room should be bright with natural light from the sun. Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. But that was when you glanced at the time. It was still the middle of the night.

When you turned to your side, that was also when you realized that it was Hyunjae who had woken you up. Unknowingly at that. His arm was still around your waist but this time, his hold was almost painfully tight. If you looked closely, you could see that his eyes were screwed shut, his eyebrows twitching with small stuttering breaths escaping him.

But, you’ve always heard the saying that you weren’t supposed to wake someone up from a nightmare. So you hesitated, keeping your hands close to yourself, worriedly watching. At some point, he jolted awake by himself.

Now, his breathing was even faster and he had shot up, looking around frantically. Blinking your eyes sleepily, you turned on the nearby light and sat up with him.

“Hyunjae?” You whispered, looking him over in concern.

He turned to you in a growing distraught state and he widened his eyes. “Are you–”

“It’s just me,” You muttered. “Bad dream?”

Hyunjae froze for a moment but he slowly nodded. And usually, it was you who initiated the hugs. But this time, he was the one who lunged forward, holding you close to his chest. His hands grasped onto you tightly as he buried his nose into your neck.

With the way he was holding you so tightly, so… desperately, you wondered if this had happened before. But still, you allowed him to just hold you close, your own arms coming around to gently pat his back.

You didn’t know when, but he eventually pulled away. He refused to look you in the eye and so you brought a gentle hand to the side of his face, coaxing him to face you.

“How long has this been going on for?” You frowned.

He shut his eyes. “A while.”

Your heart clenched at his quiet response. For the past few days, you had thought he was feeling better, less exhausted. But behind the bedroom door, it must be different.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know…” He trailed off.

“You don’t have to tell me–”

“...what they’re about.”

“Oh,” You breathed. “The nightmares?”

He nodded with tired eyes. “But while I was gone–away from you–people I’ve loved, everything I’ve cherished seemed to disappear before my eyes. It wasn’t just work it was… a lot.” His voice was quiet, hard to hear but it was loud enough that you could hear each and every heart-twisting emotion.

You stayed silent, your hand finding his to stroke the back of it soothingly.

“I felt hopeless.” He frowned. “I guess those nightmares felt like I was reliving that all over again.”

He didn’t say anything after that. You watched him cautiously, wondering what exactly to do. But then you felt his hand tighten on yours slightly and that was your cue to shift even closer.

He glanced at you with an ashamed expression that only made the pit in your stomach drop even more. Slowly, slow enough so that he could back away if he wanted to, you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close against you. Almost instantly, he was breathing out a low sigh of relief as he nuzzled even further into your embrace.

“You’re not alone anymore,” You whispered. “And… thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

He didn’t say anything, but when he held you back, it was a perfect answer. The two of you stayed like that, in the dead of night, just holding each other until you began to feel drowsy from his warmth. It wasn’t the first time that you’ve done so. The only difference was that it was always you who needed that extra piece of comfort. It was never Hyunjae. Seeing him open up was different but something that you were most grateful for.

“I never replied to you the day we met in the hallway,” He spoke, interrupting your thoughts.

You pondered for a moment, recalling the memory. “When I said that I missed you?”

He nodded. “I didn’t reply because I was afraid you would still be mad at me for leaving you so abruptly.”

You smiled softly and shook your head, your hand coming up to the back of his head to stroke his hair soothingly. His eyes widened slightly in shock but he quickly melted into your touch. “I was angry at first.”

He laughed quietly, though his voice was watery with unfallen tears.

“But now I’m not,” You whispered. “I promise. I’m just happy to see you again.”

He pulled away to look up at you, searching your face to make sure that you were telling the truth. When you only gazed back with utmost sincerity, he let a small smile tug on his lips.

“I missed you,” He had finally replied, answering your statement from before. “More than you know. It was hard without you.”

Your gaze softened once you noticed the sparkle of a few tears in his eyes and when he blinked, your sleeve was immediately coming up to pat his cheek, drying the ones that had broken free.

“I missed you too,” You responded and gently, you were pulling him back into bed. And this time, without hesitation, he was hooking both of his arms around you, tightening you into his chest.

“...so much,” He muttered sleepily. “I missed you so much.”

“You have me now.”

“Always.” And you felt his hand grasp yours, guiding it to where his heart was, thumping in a soothing rhythm. “In here.”

You were the first one to wake up. It seemed that Hyunjae’s nightmare and tears had left him too exhausted to even notice you unwrapping yourself from his protective embrace. And so, you took it as your duty to cook something decent for him to wake up to.

Except maybe Hyunjae did notice because he opened the door shortly after. You probably should have placed a pillow in his arms before you left. He walked out and you had to stop yourself from cooing because that would be a little bit… weird. But you couldn’t help it because the sight of his hair tousled and messy, his eyes barely opened and puffy from the tears, and his lips pouted adorably, left you smiling with endearment.

“Morning sleepyhead.” You grinned, turning the stove on.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he shuffled over to where you were standing behind the kitchen counter.

You tilted your head in amusement, wondering how he managed to navigate with his eyes barely open. “Are you feeling better?”

Again, still no response. You watched as he circled the counter, positioning himself behind you. And then you gasped quietly once you registered the strong arms that enveloped your waist, pulling you into a warm hug, your back now pressed up against his chest. You could even feel his nose nuzzling into the back of your neck, breathing deeply.

You simply just froze, unable to do anything. Once you realized he wasn’t going to move anytime soon, you turned the stove off and simply allowed him to hug you to his heart’s content. He let out a sleepy hum. Or was it a whine?

“You’re clingy in the morning,” You mused.

“Mhm.” Even his morning voice was cute.

And when you said sleepy, you meant it. Literally–you were pretty sure he fell asleep while back-hugging you in the middle of the kitchen. You practically had to hold on to the counter to brace his weight and when you stole a glance over your shoulder, you had to stifle a laugh. His cheek was smushed into your shoulder and his eyes shut in content.

“O–kay,” You heaved, forcing your body to turn around. And still, he would have almost collapsed into you if you hadn’t planted your hands on his shoulders to hold him up. His head lolled to the side as he peeked an eye open to look at you drowsily.

You chuckled and your hand came up to his hair to ruffle it. Immediately, he was leaning into your touch and when your hand traveled down to cup his cheek, he was nuzzling into it like a puppy.

“I missed you,” He slurred, his voice huskier than usual.

“Mm, you said that already,” You hummed teasingly, a smile threatening to spread across your lips. “Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” He smiled lazily.

“You’re acting drunk and it’s like–” You glanced at the clock. “Seven in the morning.”

“And what about it? I missed you,” He grumbled, an adorable frown on his lips.

“Ah,” You sighed, shaking your head. “Go splash water on your face, you dummy. Then you’ll wake up properly.”

He still didn’t budge. And so, using every single ounce of your strength, you had to carry him all the way to the bathroom as he was still clinging onto you like a koala.

After a few minutes, with the sound of the bathroom sink splashing in the background, you finally managed to start cooking something. But then the door clicked open and you looked up. Hyunjae, his eyes finally open, was blushing so hard that you couldn’t even conceal your laugh anymore.

“Missed me?” You remarked.

He winced in response, his cheeks continuing to flame red.

“I don’t know what got into me,” He muttered, refusing to look you in the eye.

You beckoned him over and he finally looked up at you shyly.

“It was cute,” You teased. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“And what else?” He quickly recovered.

Your breath hitched. Ah, you thought. There he was. The usual Hyunjae when he was fully awake. The one who loved to tease you until you were blushing and hiding your face.

“Don’t do this again,” You groaned.

“Do what?”

“That.”

“You’ll have to elaborate on that, sweetheart.”

You raised an eyebrow at the nickname, completely unfazed. But when your eyes traveled down, that was when you realized just how close he was. He continued to lean forward until he was caging you against the counter, both of his hands on either side of you. It wasn’t the flirting that got you, it was his body encompassing you so, so effortlessly, making you feel smaller than you really were.

He chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”

Oh, this is definitely how best friends act. You were one hundred percent sure about that.

He smirked, tilting his chin down, as his hand traveled from the edge of the counter down to your hip.

Fifty percent.

His eyes wandering elsewhere–somewhere along the lines of your lips.

One percent.

“The breakfast is going to burn,” You stuttered.

He simply licked his lips, his gaze fixated on yours.

“I can always try something else.”

You were screwed.

The first day of Hyunjae’s new job was the very last day of your brief vacation from work. With a sigh, you scrolled through the shows and movies, only for you to ultimately turn off the TV in boredom. You weren’t going to beat around the bush and refuse to admit that you felt lonely without him. Of course, you saw him in the morning, already dressed in a suit (that fit amazingly on him, dare you add), but it was only for a short moment.

He still had nightmares but they were becoming less and less frequent. Sometimes, when they happened, you would just pull him closer and he would immediately relax with a small sigh, almost like you had the superpower to eliminate his night terrors.

And sleeping together never was awkward again. In fact, you adequately enjoyed it–his arms around you and vice versa. Did best friends regularly cuddle at night and gaze at each other for so long that your heartbeat started to speed up? That… you weren’t quite sure about.

Yawning, you found yourself lying down, spreading across the couch. You didn’t even do much today yet your eyes still threatened to shut close.

At some point, you blinked your eyelids open once you heard the door unlocking. Sitting up, you smiled softly at the sight of Hyunjae opening the door. His tie was already loose and his hair was blown up from the wind. Squinting your eyes, you then noticed that he was practically stumbling into the entrance, almost like all of his coordination had dissipated.

His eyes were droopy and his lips pouted from what you would guess to be exhaustion. Everyone’s first day of work was like that. You watched as he set down his work bag and walked over to you, very… very slowly.

“How was work?” You questioned, looking up at him.

And just like last time, he didn’t respond. Silently, he leaned forward and literally–very literally–laid on top of you. His body weight pulled you back down to lie on the couch and his arms were snaking around you as his legs tangled with yours. Speechless, you felt as he nuzzled back into your neck, just like he’s begun to do so often now.

“You look gorgeous today,” He whispered, his voice very oddly slurred.

Your breath hitched. “Are you drunk?”

He looked up at that and you practically choked on air once you realized how close his face was to yours. And then he smiled languidly and shook his head.

“Are you sure?” You searched him for any sign–red cheeks, the scent of the alcoholic drink–yet you couldn’t find any.

“I’m just tired,” He mumbled, planting his face back into the crook of your neck.

“Okay,” You laughed. Gently, your hand came up to his broad back to rub it in circles, the material of the suit rough and honestly quite unsatisfying. But still, you persisted once you felt his tense muscles slowly soften. Slowly though, you came to a stop. “Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” He hummed.

“You need to take a shower,” You huffed. “C’mon.” With all of your power, you pushed him up and off you. Again, his head tilted to the side with a tired smile. You laughed and shoved him until he finally obliged and went off to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, you were left there, contemplating his strange behavior. He never acted this clingy before. Not even for the years that you’ve known him. It was only after that particular night that he started to… do this.

When he was done showering, he stepped out. You had hoped that he would be more awake now, but it seemed he was even drowsier than before–too tired to even dry his own hair. With a click of your tongue, you motioned him over to sit down. Like a puppy, his eyes brightened at the sight of you as he obediently followed.

“You’ll catch a cold,” You ridiculed with a worried frown.

After finding a towel, you stepped in between his legs. Carefully, you began to dry his damp hair, marveling at the way his hair curled up after a shower. You rubbed his scalp, making your way around and behind his ears. When you peeked at his expression, you stifled a laugh at the way he basically fell asleep under your touch.

Once you deemed his hair dry enough, you were about to walk away but instead, he abruptly stood up, swaying slightly. And then he fell forward, pulling you into a warm embrace.

You smiled fondly. “Tired?”

It seems that when Hyunjae was tired, he never answered any of your questions, funnily enough. A lot of his answers were just “I missed you” or a small hum. But this… this answer was different. It was spoken so quietly, so softly yet it perfectly resonated through your ears.

“I love you.”

Before you could even say anything or really do anything, he was reluctantly pulling away and heading to the bedroom. Your lips parted as your eyes fixated on absolutely nothing. Just– space. Your whole body had gone rigid as you simply stood there, processing his words. You couldn’t even blink.

Best friends… say that too, don’t they?

It started to become a pattern for the whole first week of his new job. When he was actually fully awake, he told you that the work was demanding yet he never looked so happy and content. Sometimes, you wondered what his past work was like, but you never prodded.

But, because the work was just so demanding, every single day, from Monday to Friday, he came home exhausted. And any person would expect him to just head straight for bed. But like you said, it was a pattern, a usual thing, that he would cling on to you. Apparently, something had shifted in him. Originally, when you saw him exhausted, he would become closed off. But after… that night, he acted almost intoxicated. Not on a drink. But simply off being tired.

You found it endearing actually. His voice was always quieter and he often stumbled over his words this way. His eyes were dazed and soft on yours and he also became ten times heavier as he liked to lay all of his weight on you when he pulled you into a hug. He constantly just seemed to be in a completely different mindset–one that was very… loving and… yeah– different.

He liked to say things too. Slurred and quiet, but he still very clearly said them. You could never figure out if he meant them or if he was just tired and rambling things for the fun of it.

He said “I misssed you” a lot. Occasionally, he would blurt out that you looked pretty or beautiful. Or, it would be a small “hi” accompanied by a shy smile. Sometimes, if he was too tired to say much, he would just giggle over nothing in particular. But… there was one specific phrase that he would say out of the blue.

“I love you.”

That one always left you perplexed. It could be a… platonic thing to say, right? Where did the word “love” come from? You didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t help but feel some sort of spark of light in the very depths of your heart.

It was weird, really. An out-of-this-world, alien-like thing for a best friend to say. The words I, love, and you arranged in that particular order were never syllables Hyunjae ever let fall from his lips. He never spent any particular ounce of breath to say them.

Yet now he did.

For some odd reason.

But again, he was just tired. Surely.

And just like before, the pattern started all over again. The week was coming to a close so maybe you wouldn’t hear those words again after this. But you didn’t really mind altogether. With a tired sigh, you walked out of the room, now changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable.

Right on cue, the main door was unlocking, and once again, the pattern began to unweave itself. He would walk in, with the occasional misstep and stumble. And like usual, he looked tired. Though, you envied his ability to still look… attractive. And then he would look up, search for a particular someone, and do that stupidly lazy smile–the one where his eyes weren’t focused on anything but you.

“What are you doing here?” He giggled–he giggled now, apparently.

You eyed him, completely apathetic. “You let me stay here temporarily, remember?”

He blinked at you with an adorable pout. And then he nodded. “You’re right.” He smiled. “Aren’t you smart?” He pinched your cheek.

Scowling, you wrestled his hands off. And for the first time this week, you finally decided to question his bizarre behavior.

“Why are you acting like this?” You whined, holding him up by his arms so he wouldn’t fall over you like he had done the day before.

“Because I missed you,” He grumbled, his eyes struggling to stay open. “Now let me–”

“Agh,” You groaned. But still, your hands fell to your sides as you let him wrap his arms around your torso, bringing you close to his chest. Whatever made him happy, was your motive. And totally not, I secretly enjoy this.

It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of his slow breathing against your earlobe. For a minute, you worried that he had fallen asleep already, but he spoke again.

“Have I mentioned how uncomfortable this suit is?” He mumbled. “It’s very hot and–”

You didn’t even say anything. With a sigh–one that wasn’t particularly annoyed, but more… doting–you stepped away. He stared at you in both drowsiness and slight confusion, but his eyes slowly widened once he realized that you were taking off the jacket for him. Gently, you pulled it off his shoulders and down his arms, your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration.

He was quiet, simply watching as your fingers grasped his tie, unloosening it with a sharp pull, causing him to lurch forward, his lips startlingly close to yours.

“Interesting,” He teasingly remarked, but his voice was still slurred.

“Shut up,” You snapped yet there was no malice behind your tone.

Your hands then came up to his collar, unbuttoning the first few buttons to reveal slightly past his collarbones which… you’ve already accidentally witnessed before. With a friendly pat on his shoulder, you deemed him undressed enough. He slowly turned his gaze to you and your breath hitched at the sight– his work attire now loose with his hair slightly messy… ah. Not to mention, his tilted head and sleepy expression that only made things worse.

Clearing your throat, feeling your cheeks burn, you scrambled off somewhere to shove a change of clothes into his hands and left abruptly, your heart thumping. Soon enough–you didn’t know when because you were busy contemplating all of your feelings and the meaning of life–he walked into the bedroom. Undoing the made bed, you motioned him to climb in. Obediently, he followed and you pulled the blankets over him.

“Y/n,” He muttered, grasping your wrist before you could walk away.

“Hm?”

“...love you,” He whispered.

Again, he was just rambling. He was just saying things. He had stumbled over his words and his voice was quiet, so that meant that he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean any of it. It was all fake–

“I love you,” He repeated—clearer, louder this time without an inch of hesitation. And this time, he was looking straight up at you, his cheeks slightly pink, flushed.

Maybe it was more real than you had thought.

The first week was over, meaning Hyunjae was more situated at work and most importantly, less exhausted. On the first day of his new, non-intoxicated-on-fatigue persona, he had simply greeted you and strolled past. You wouldn’t admit it fully to him but that simple interaction that did better fit what you guys were–best friends–left you feeling empty inside.

But it was fine. It was just a one-week thing.

Until it wasn’t.

The next day, the pattern appeared again, but it wasn’t… like before.

He was fully awake this time yet he still–

“Hyunjae?” You stammered. The arms wrapped around your waist tightened further as he stood behind you, hooking his chin over your shoulder, and breathing out a low sigh. And now that he was newly… conscious, he did more. His hands began to wander over you in soothing shapes and he pressed his chest further against your back.

“Just stay here with me.”

You could see his soft smile in the corner of your eye. With a bothered huff, you glanced back at him, only for you to inhale sharply at how close he actually was and how… nice his cologne smelt. Oh, and his hands were still wandering.

“I thought you only acted like this when you’re tired?”

He shook his head, shifting even closer, his warmth encompassing you comfortingly.

“Do you want to know something about me?”

“I know a lot about you,” You joked.

But he was quiet, a serious silence befalling the two of you. You gulped and whispered a small “what is it?”

You could hear him huff out in amusement, his hands never failing to leave your waist. “While I was away–when I was at my lowest–I thought of someone all those years.”

And for some reason, you knew exactly what the answer was.

But still, your voice tremored. “Who?”

A squeeze on your waist.

“You.”

Shutting your eyes, you breathed out a shaky sigh and looked down to where he was still hugging you from behind. Your heart was thumping and you were sure he could hear you. And even if he could make out the pounding, he never budged once. Not once did he stop tightening his arms around you and not once did he cease to bury his nose somewhere into your skin, leaving shivers down your spine.

With your heartbeat practically reaching your ears, you nudged him and turned around so that now, you were facing him. Without his dazed, sleepy look, it was just his soft eyes and the slightest tug of his lips, an endeared smile. Without his exhaustion that often left him sluggish, it was just his firm, stronger arms that held you so easily.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered.

“Sweetheart,” He replied, his voice gentle and content. And before, you wouldn’t have paid a single ounce of attention to that nickname because it just seemed like how best friends would fool around. But now… things were different and you weren’t sure how exactly. And so the name sweetheart now left your cheeks flushing.

You swallowed thickly, your breath shortening. “Do you know how much you confuse me?”

His smile only grew. “Elaborate on that.” A pause. “Sweetheart.”

You sighed, biting your lip with mortification. “That. The nickname.”

“Sweetheart? You never said you didn’t like it, I can stop if you want—“

“Don’t!” You rushed to say. You blushed more once you realized he was teasing you again, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Not just the nickname. Everything.”

“Like what?” He stepped closer if that was even possible.

You gazed up at him and you were sure you looked frustrated right now, judging by his fond smile. He always said you looked cute when mad.

“You say that you miss me all the time.”

“Because I do.” He dipped his head lower to look at you with those foolish, puppy-like eyes. “I think of you whenever I’m at work.”

“But,” You exhaled shakily. “Do you realize that you say something else?”

You were sure he wasn’t aware. He didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind whenever he was exhausted. So maybe, he would just stare at you in utter confusion, deny it, and this whole… feeling fiasco would be done and dealt with. But then—

“That I love you?”

Your lips parted in surprise and you peered up at him, wondering if he was just taking a wild guess. But no, the soft, genuine look on his face said it all.

“You… knew?” You stuttered.

“Of course I did,” He chuckled softly. “And I meant every single one.”

Eyebrows furrowing, you stepped backward from shock. As you avoided his eyes, you missed the nervousness and the unsureness that flitted across his face. But, just that one step away left chills down your body–as if being away from Hyunjae and his embrace wasn’t even natural anymore.

And so you stepped forward again. Immediately, you could hear a low sigh of relief escape Hyunjae’s lips and feel his hands snake back around your waist protectively. You weren’t sure what expression was on his face though, as you were very adamant on staring directly at his tie–his chest. You knew that he could still see your reddening cheeks, but you still preferred not to look him in the eye.

“That,” He said quietly. “You’re also quite confusing too.”

“Wh-what?”

“Stepping away and stepping back,” He spoke softly. “Looking me in the eye but refusing to when I say that I love you.” One of his hands left your waist to gently guide your chin up. “So look at me now.”

“I…” You trailed off, feeling yourself go weak just from his soft, loving gaze.

“And one more thing.” He tilted his head teasingly.

A pause. A great moment of silence.

“You don’t say it but you show it.”

“Hyunjae,” You breathed out, your heart beating like a loud, intense drum.

“I wasn’t completely unaware.” He smirked. His hand had already left your chin and found its place back to your waist, yet you found yourself staring straight into his dark eyes, stuck in a trance. “I know that you dried my hair with a towel–that you even undressed me. I know that you took care of me.”

You did do that all on your own accord, simply because you thought that you were being a perfectly good friend. But now that you thought about it–you didn’t have to. You could have easily pushed him off, and told him to do everything on his own but you didn’t. And it was all because you–

“So tell me then,” He whispered, his voice quiet–only for you to hear, almost like he wanted you all to himself. “What are we?”

You held your breath, your cheeks growing hot. Your hands rested on his chest and you could feel his heart pound, exactly like yours. He felt the same, you realized. With a shaky sigh, you gazed up at him.

“What do you want us to be?”

He hummed, a soft smile on his lips. “What do I want?”

He slightly reworded your question and you wondered why. But you nodded, your eyes studying his features. His handsome features. They were sharp when you had met him in that hallway. But his keen eyes, the angle of his eyebrows, his perpetual frown–they were just soft, soft on you. No longer was there a frown, but just an affectionate smile.

“What do you want?” You repeated his question, your voice hushed to a whisper.

He leaned in, his gaze warm and gentle, his eyes wandering over each and every detail of your face.

“I want to love you.”

You had expected to inhale sharply, gasp maybe–but no. Because everything made sense to you now. His kind words, his soft and fleeting touches across your body, it all pointed to one thing. And so, instead, you smiled shyly.

“Then love me.”

And just like that, his grip on your hips tightened and he turned you around so that your back was facing the door. He was walking you backward until you felt the hard surface against your shoulder blades and he was leaning down, close enough that if he inched further, he would be kissing you. But he didn’t–not yet.

“May I?” He muttered, looking over you with slight concern.

You nodded, embarrassingly with a bit too eagerness. He laughed softly and then he was fitting his lips against yours as your eyes fluttered closed. The press of it was gentle and tender as he tilted your chin up and angled himself so that it was more comfortable. The kiss was unlike any that you’ve experienced before. It was like the tension that had built up before had completely broken down, as you allowed yourself to just fall.

Fall, physically, almost because you felt your knees go weak, with only the door behind you to hold you up. But his hand traveled back down to your waist, hooking you in against his body, keeping you steady as he muffled a groan against your lips. You couldn’t hear anything but his breathing and the thumping of your own heart.

All you could think of was him–how he could so easily change from rough to soft, how he could push forward so quickly but pull away so easily to allow you a gasp of breath, and how he could make your heart pound yet lull it into a steady rhythm of love. He kissed like he could devour you, but if you decided to peek an eye open, you would see his adorably furrowed eyebrows and his flushed cheeks, showing that he wasn’t anything like that.

He was just a man who needed a bit of a sweetener in his life.

With a quiet noise, he pulled away. Immediately, his eyes searched over your features, making sure that you were okay and that he didn’t do too much. But, when you gave him a smile, your eyes flitting nervously, he grinned and leaned in to grant you another soft kiss.

“How long?” You laughed shyly.

“I came to the realization when you tried to cheer me up whenever I was tired. But I think I’ve already felt this way for a while.” He replied. He pinched your cheek again. “All those dates and extra care that you gave me…very cute thing to do.”

Your eyes went wide. “You… noticed?”

“I notice a lot of things, sweetheart,” He teased. “Like how you’re grabbing onto my suit to pull me into a kiss right now.”

“O-oh,” You stammered, letting go of his crumpled collar. “I didn’t realize I–”

He shook his head and before you could finish your sentence, he was cupping your cheek–something that he’s never done before–and guiding you back to his lips. And this time, his tongue swiped against your lip, making you gasp quietly.

“You taste like candy.” His gaze fixated on your lips.

“I didn’t know you could…” You had to stop for a second to catch your breath. And it wasn’t just because of his exceptional kissing, but it was the beat of your heart, of all of your love. “...you could kiss like that.”

“What can I say?” He tilted his head with a teasing look. “I guess I have a sweet tooth.”

“Trust me on this,” Younghoon whined. “I followed the instructions to the very dot. They’ll taste good. Promise.”

You eyed him skeptically but still, you picked up one of the cookies that he had baked. They looked a little… off, but it should be fine. Taking a bite, you took note of the odd texture, and then the taste started to register on your tongue.

You coughed. You choked. And then you threw the cookie back on the plate.

“Bitter,” You gagged. “It’s so bitter.”

“What?” He cried. “Are you kidding me–”

Your eyes lit up once you remembered your boyfriend who was sitting next to you on the couch. He was busy on his computer, doing some sort of work report but you ignored that, turning to him and grasping his collar tightly. You pulled him in, pressing your lips to his, causing him to let out a small “mmph” in surprise.

But almost instantly, he turned into jelly from your touch, a smile growing on his lips as his eyes fluttered close. He had tried to deepen it desperately but you pulled away shortly after, leaving him to chase after your lips adorably.

Younghoon gawked. “I’m right here.”

“So?” You shrugged, smiling innocently. “At least he tastes sweet.”

“Oh my god,” Younghoon mumbled, getting up to throw the cookies into the garbage can.

Meanwhile, Hyunjae was staring at you in a daze, his cheeks flushed. But, he quickly recovered and he was quick to pounce on you, pressing kisses all over you once Younghoon had left.

��A warning next time would be great.”

He was now hovering over you on the couch, caging you under his arms and his computer long forgotten. The position left you flushing but it was also the perfect one to knee him in the stomach.

He winced in pain. "What was that for?"

"A warning, you said," You mocked. "When literally yesterday you kissed me up against a wall in your own workplace."

"That's an exception." He smirked. "You liked it, didn't you?"

"I..." You blushed, remembering the way he had kissed you so fervently, dressed in that suit and tie, the thrill of getting caught still running through your veins. "It was alright."

"Sure, sweetheart," He whispered in a teasing tone. He looked annoying handsome like this, with that amused smile that contrasted his soft, loving gaze. "Then I'll make sure you like this one."

Oh, how you despised him.

And then his lips were on yours again, swallowing up any shy noises that threatened to escape you. But just before he did, he had whispered three quiet words against your lips.

"I love you."

And how you loved him too.

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