#Are you still using paper business cards?

[leodette]

"In Sickness And In Health..." | LN4

(part of "In Sickness And In Health" series)

fandom: Formula 1

pairing: Lando Norris x OC

names/faceclaims: -

type: Instagram SMAU

summary: The Papaya Prince surprises the world with his marital status...

warning: timing doesn't make sense, please ignore that fact xD

**********

liked by thebride, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 3,001,457 others landonorris did a little thing 💍 (tagged thebride)

↪︎ user u kiddin right? i mean, april fools day was in, well, april

↪︎ user what is this?

↪︎ thebride love you Mr Norris ❤️🧡 liked by the author ↪︎ landonorris ❤️ U ➡️ 🌝 & 🔙 ↪︎ user okay this is super cute

↪︎ mclaren congratulations to the happy couple! (pr management asks for a little heads up next time) liked by the author ↪︎ thebride no need, there'll be no next time ↪︎ landonorris there better not be

↪︎ user Lando Norris, THE Lando Norris, is married? ↪︎ user they were even engaged?! ↪︎ landonorris yes, we got hitched, and no, we weren't engaged ↪︎ user u wanna tell us this was a split-of-a-second decision?! ↪︎ thebride more like split of an afternoon. needed my girls to get ready after all ❤️

↪︎ maxverstappen1 one would say simply lovely liked by the author ↪︎ landonorris we had g&t as well, i mean... ↪︎ maxverstappen1 and fight daniel over marriage certificate? no thank you ↪︎ danielricciardo HEY! ↪︎ maxverstappen1 but anyway, congratulations you two, get ready for the ride ↪︎ thebride thank you, Mr 4WC 💙 ↪︎ landonorris that heart is supposed to be papaya, my love ↪︎ thebride but he deserves it! he won! 🥺 ↪︎ maxverstappen1 that's okay, but thank you

↪︎ angryginge13 crazy little thing called love huh ❤️ liked by the author ↪︎ landonorris u have no idea mate

↪︎ danielricciardo still can't believe i had to do rock paper scissors with Piastri and Fewtrell about who's going to sign the marriage licence as your witness liked by the author ↪︎ oscarpiastri kinda want to say u cheated ↪︎ danielricciardo me? cheated? never! ↪︎ maxfewtrell agree with oscar here, it was supposed to go on shoot not on three ↪︎ landonorris does it matter? it is signed! ↪︎ thebride also, it was kinda amusing for the bride ↪︎ oscarpiastri if it amused the bride, than it was the job well done

↪︎ georgerussell63 U DID WHAT?! WHY WAS I NOT THERE?! liked by the author ↪︎ landonorris u were too busy getting drunk after p1. congrats btw! ↪︎ georgerussell63 man what do you mean that i got drunk while you got married?! ↪︎ landonorris that i got married while you got drunk? ↪︎ thebride that makes me wonder... carmenmmundt? ↪︎ carmenmmundt georgerussell63 👀 ↪︎ georgerussell63 George Russell left the chat

↪︎ adam-norris_pure_electric ❤️❤️❤️ liked by the author ↪︎ user dad approves! ↪︎ user of course he does, he and thebride are a staple duo of the mclaren garage!

↪︎ flonorris1 my sis-in-law is prettier than yours! liked by the author ↪︎ thebride hah, MY sister-in-law is prettier than yours! ↪︎ flonorris1 😘 ↪︎ thebride 🥰 ↪︎ landonorris is this how it feels to have your new wife stolen from u by ur own flesh and blood? ↪︎ ciscanorris1 took u long enough

↪︎ user just out of interest, how drunk were u? ↪︎ maxfewtrell he wasn't. crazy, right? ↪︎ landonorris wanted to remember every single second okay?

liked by landonorris, pietra.pilao, keeganpalmer and 846,268 others thebride we do. we did. we eloped. (tagged landonorris)

↪︎ landonorris love u mrs norris ❤️‍🔥 liked by the author ↪︎ thebride 🤭

↪︎ user didn't have that on my bingo card

↪︎ bridessister U REALLY DID IT! mom will kill you! ↪︎ thebride no she'll not cause she already knew! 😂 ↪︎ bridessister 🤯😠🤬

↪︎ maxfewtrell good luck girl, he's your responsibility now liked by the author

↪︎ lilyzneimer 🥰💐 liked by the author ↪︎ thebride my sweet girl 💖

↪︎ bridesbff when u said to me that u r going to marry this guy, i didn't expect u to do it literally a week later! liked by the author ↪︎ thebride oopsie daisy, guilty as charged ↪︎ thebride although not sorry at all

↪︎ f12wags mkay but everything aside, u both look gorg!

liked by heidiberger_, pierregasly, thebride and 1.267.534 others danielricciardo someone please bleach my eyes. jokes aside, it was a great honor to be one of the chosen few to watch this wedding happen. proud of you landonorris for growing up from that little kiddo to the man you are now. and thebride good luck with him, don't forget that people who love you both are just a phonecall away if you need help. congratulations! (tagged landonorris, thebride)

↪︎ thebride thank you for all this Danny, we love you and are very happy for you to be there with us ❤️ liked by the author ↪︎ danielricciardo it was my pleasure! ↪︎ thebride btw you just made lando cried, that's why he's not answering the phone ↪︎ danielricciardo SIMP he is!

↪︎ heidiberger_ the best evening! ↪︎ thebride it was! can't wait for yours! ↪︎ danielricciardo ehmmm hello? ↪︎ heidiberger_ 😇

↪︎ user okay but the cake?!

↪︎ user pizza in bed. if there was an epitome of LN wedding it would be this

↪︎ maxfewtrell and i still think u cheated with that rock paper scissors

liked by landonorris, pietra.pilao, thebride and 193.258 others maxfewtrell when Bob got hitched at Vegas (tagged thebride, landonorris)

↪︎ landonorris u make it shound like a title of some bad romance novel u muppet ↪︎ maxfewtrell oh I WISH it was that ↪︎ landonorris 🖕

↪︎ thebride what a lovely photo Max, thank you! liked by the author ↪︎ maxfewtrell my pleasure ma'am ↪︎ landonorris stop flirtin w/ my wife ↪︎ maxfewtrell then get out of my comments

liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris and 1.298.953 others oscarpiastri that paper is a) Lando's contract extension or b) a menu he stole from a restaurant that didn't have any fish on it or c) a marriage licence (tagged landonorris, thebride)

↪︎ landonorris there was no need to call me out like that mate ↪︎ oscarpiastri says who? ↪︎ landonorris ...me? ↪︎ oscarpiastri wrong answer, please try again ↪︎ user i love how unserious they're

↪︎ user the fact that there wasn't carlos or max v but oscar and daniel speaks of itself ↪︎ oscarpiastri i just tagged with lily tbh she was the one invited

liked by maxfewtrell, heidiberger_, thebride and 35.311 others pietra.pilao the girl of the hour and her gang 🔥👰‍♀️ (tagged thebride, lilyzneimer, heidiberger_, bridessister)

↪︎ thebride couldn't wish for a better bridal party! love you my maid of honor!

↪︎ lilyzneimer 🥰👰‍♀️

↪︎ heidiberger_ that was fun! who's next?

↪︎ bridessister and here i thought that skipping vegas race wouldn't do much harm

↪︎ maxfewtrell now i get why that room was off limits... too much female energy!

*

time jump

liked by thebride, ciscanorris1, hellomag and 24.846 others wedding-planner Today landonorris and thebride celebrated their Las Vegas elopement with their families and friends in a laid-back garden party at Somerset. The buffet included multiple summer barbeque party staples like marinated ribs, steaks and burgers, together with an assortment of sweets and refreshments. Evening arrived with a self-served pizza and ramen noodle bar. Guests were entertained by live dj as well as pre-prepared playlists, and could enjoy many classic party games, including bouncing castle.

(comments have been limited)

↪︎ thebride the best wedding party we could ask for! thank you so much! liked by the author

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, f1 and 756.498 others mclaren Celebratory champagne pop, officially not only for the podiums. Congratulations to Mr & Mrs Norris! (tagged landonorris, thebride)

↪︎ redbullracing sending congratulations to the happy couple! waiting to see more of you in the paddock soon!

↪︎ scuderiaferrari Congratulazioni!

↪︎ mercedesamgf1 the biggest congratulations to our fellow driver and his new wife! We wish you many happy moments together!

↪︎ haasf1team Congratulations to the newlyweds!

↪︎ williamsracing heard that papaya fits quite nicely with Williams blue... anyway, the best wishes to both landonorris and thebride!

↪︎ astonmartinf1 Nothing brings the grid together like babies and weddings! Congrats to the bride and groom on their earlier nuptials as well as the after-wedding celebration!

↪︎ stakef1team Admin is trying very hard not to get emotional, so let's just say: We as a team wish the newlyweds the best! See you soon!

↪︎ alpinef1team 🩷🧡

↪︎ visacashapprb Congratulations!

↪︎ landonorris thank you papaya team 🧡

liked by thebride, ruthbuscombe, danielricciardo and 2.125.872 others landonorris hello mrs norris ❤️ (tagged thebride)

↪︎ thebride hello mr norris 🧡 liked by the author

↪︎ riabish this is the sweetest thing we'll see this week ↪︎ landonorris not used to see the sweet side of me or what? ↪︎ riabish oh you're plenty of sweet, but your WIFE makes it even sweeter! ↪︎ thebride that's my girl! love you babe! ↪︎ landonorris oh thatnk you darling! ↪︎ thebride I meant Ria ↪︎ riabish HA! ↪︎ landonorris attacked in my own comments. when does it end?

↪︎ user who would've thought that Lando had it in him

↪︎ bridesbff she's a catch ↪︎ landonorris that she is!

↪︎ user when little Landor Norris bagged the best woman in a very wide radius

↪︎ fifakill_ Lando Norris, husband. that sounds weird ↪︎ landonorris i'll give you weird! ↪︎ fifakill_ for now! i meant for now it sounds weird! i'm sure soon it'll be absolutely normal thing!

liked by revolve, landonorris, lilyzneimer and 35.068 others thebride the dream come true to celebrate a change of a surname with the full family-friends gang. thank you revolve for the perfect dress to party in all night. off to the end of our lives and beyond, hubby landonorris ❤️

↪︎ landonorris 🤩😍🥵 liked by the author

↪︎ landonorris THAT'S MY HOT WIFEY EVERYBODY! liked by the author ↪︎ thebride oh shush you muppet, not on main! 🤭 ↪︎ landonorris yes on main! not ashamed of the fact that my woman is so hot!

↪︎ user okay but can we please talk about how perfect this dress is? not too casual so she wouldn't get lost in between her guests, still makes her stand out as the bride, but isn't too ostentations or lavish to forbid her from enjoying her own celebration! liked by the author ↪︎ thebride can confirm that this was EXACTLY the reason why I chose it! appreciate your thought about it! nothing beats practicality while still making it feel special! ↪︎ user OMG HELLO BEAUTIFUL YOU LOOKED ABSOLUTELY STUNNING! ↪︎ thebride hehe hello 🥰 and thank you!

↪︎ lilyzneimer 🥰👗💃 liked by the author ↪︎ thebride will never forget us dancing until the sunrise ❤️ ↪︎ oscarpiastri so that's where she was all night! ↪︎ thebride yes, because your woman likes to dance! ↪︎ oscarpiastri touché! ↪︎ lilyzneimer 🤭 ↪︎ thebride don't worry Lily darlin', we'll go dancing soon enough! and no oscarpiastri and landonorris you're not invited, that is a girls night! ↪︎ landonorris u had to open that big mouth of urs right? oscarpiastri ↪︎ oscarpiastri sorry? we can always play some video games while these two're getting sloshed somewhere? ↪︎ landonorris u got urself a deal

↪︎ revolve It was our pleasure to provide this beautiful dress for the beautiful bride! Congratulations from the whole Revolve team! liked by the author

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, _aarava and 55.553 others keeganpalmer how to turn bunch of grown ups into children again? give them a bouncing castle! (tagged landonorris, thebride, bridessister, olivernorris1, lilymhe, lilyzneimer)

↪︎ landonorris wow what an observation!

↪︎ maxfewtrell at least you took off your shoes ↪︎ keeganpalmer had to otherwise they wouldn't let me on! ↪︎ thebride well if the bride and groom had to take their shoes off as well...? ↪︎ keeganpalmer no longer complaining! did anyone hear anything? ↪︎ maxfewtrell how did you do that? ↪︎ thebride did what? ↪︎ maxfewtrell shut keegan up! ↪︎ thebride ...

↪︎ user not Keegan tagging both Lilys' there!

↪︎ bridessister showoff ↪︎ keeganpalmer will happily accept that one! especially from you 😉 ↪︎ thebride hands off palmer! ↪︎ bridessister ignore her. you were sayin? ↪︎ thebride THE NERVE ↪︎ bridessister did you watch too much of rocketpoweredmohawk? ↪︎ thebride who? ↪︎ landonorris u don't wanna know, trust me

liked by bridesmom, thebride, riabish and 3.912 others bridessister side by side or miles apart, sisters will always be connected by the heart. until one of them falls from a chair during her own wedding celebration. (tagged thebride)

↪︎ thebride except i didn't fall down? ↪︎ bridessister almost. it's the effort that counts! ↪︎ thebride doesn't matter. love ya sis ↪︎ bridessister love u right back ❤️

↪︎ keeganpalmer ❤️‍🔥 ↪︎ thebride no ↪︎ keeganpalmer 🥲 ↪︎ bridessister LEAVE HIM BE

↪︎ bridesmom my two girls ❤️ ↪︎ bridessister 🥰 ↪︎ thebride 🥰

liked by georgerussell63, logansargeant, lilymhe and 549.853 others alex_albon CORNHOLE!! much love to Lando and thebride for their Vegas nuptials, and thanks for including me and Lily in your celebration! (tagged landonorris, thebride)

↪︎ landonorris thanks mate for ur presence and for the great gift ↪︎ user okay now we need to know what that gift was ↪︎ landonorris no u don't it's a secret

↪︎ georgerussell63 should I mention that I absolutely destroyed you in that round? ↪︎ alex_albon oh and should we mention that there is one person whose job is to put a bag (or a ball) into a hole? NO DOUBLE MEANING I MEAN lilymhe ↪︎ lilymhe 🤔 ↪︎ georgerussell63 oh this is great fun ↪︎ carmenmmundt popcorn? 🍿 ↪︎ georgerussell63 please! ↪︎ alex_albon THAT STILL DOESN'T CHANGE THE FACT THAT LILY DESTORYED ALL OF US?!

liked by kellypiquet, pierregasly, landonorris and 1.219.673 others maxverstappen1 he won in Miami, he won at Zaandvort, he won in Singapore, he won in Abu Dhabi, he won in life. congrats landonorris and thebride for this huge step, and thank you for allowing me to be a part of this special celebration.

↪︎ thebride the pleasure was all ours Max! thank you for being here for both of us! liked by the author ↪︎ maxverstappen1 any time (or as long as it stays off track!) ↪︎ landonorris no promises! 😂

↪︎ kellypiquet such a lovely celebration! congratulations to landonorris and thebride and wishing you only happiness and health in the future! ↪︎ thebride thank you so much Kelly! it was extremely special to enjoy the time with you and Max and P! ↪︎ landonorris thank you Kelly!

↪︎ landonorris here, we can calm the internet speculations that we're enemies! trust me, would never invite an enemy to my wedding party! ↪︎ maxverstappen1 not sure how to feel about that one, but thank you!

↪︎ user not the whole grid throwing Lando in the air like he just won the championship ↪︎ landonorris they're practicing for the real deal 😉 ↪︎ maxverstappen1 let's calm down a bit, shall we?

liked by landonorris, scuderiaferrari, maxverstappen1 and 1.351.185 others carlosainz55 Lando Nowins no more, Lando Norizz no more. Te amo amigo. Felicidades!

↪︎ scuderiaferrari one big F1 family, right mclaren? ↪︎ mclaren wouldn't be the proper celebration without a bit of red 😉 ↪︎ danielricciardo we talking about wine? i can offer some red! ↪︎ mclaren well played Mr Ricciardo, well played 🤠

↪︎ landonorris gracias amigo for being the best surrogate big brother i could ask for! ur turn next! ↪︎ iamrebeccad something i should know about! ↪︎ carlossainz55 you see what you caused?! iamrebeccad let's talk about it first, okay? ↪︎ iamrebeccad call. now. ↪︎ charles_leclerc someone is in trouble! ↪︎ landonorris 'm so sorry! it was just an innocent question! ↪︎ carlossainz55 there was nothing innocent about it you ass!

↪︎ maxverstappen1 who'd have thought that little Lando Norris would be the first of this generation to tie the knot ↪︎ charles_leclerc definitely not me ↪︎ pierregasly nor me ↪︎ oscarpiastri safe to say no one thought that

↪︎ user Carlando will always be real and in the front liked by the author ↪︎ carlossainz55 couldn't be more true!

liked by thebride, savnorris, bridesmom and 5.298 others bridesbff ma b*tch got hitched! now i have to change your contact info, do u know how weird that is?! (tagged thebride, landonorris)

↪︎ thebride not weirder than changing my passport. the new signature is a weird thing to perform liked by the author ↪︎ bridesbff has a nice ring to it thought, right? ↪︎ thebride 🤭

↪︎ savnorris the best of the best! liked by the author

↪︎ bridesmom Should I find that photo of you two from your first day at nursery? ↪︎ thebride MOM ↪︎ bridesbff I'd say some things are better to stay hidden ↪︎ landonorris I WANNA SEE IT! ↪︎ bridesmom Don't worry Lando, it will be ready next time you two come for a visit! ↪︎ thebride bridesbff you need to destroy it!

liked by thebride, landonorris, bridessister and 1.206 others bridesmom my little girl is a married woman! landonorris it's your turn to take care of her now (tagged thebride)

↪︎ thebride awww mama i'll always be your little girl! liked by the author ↪︎ bridesmom ❤️

↪︎ landonorris i promise ma'am 🫡 liked by the author

↪︎ bridessister who would've thought that the family general has a soft side! ↪︎ thebride oh c'mon sis don't be mean ↪︎ bridessister sorry mama bear, you're the best in the whole world and we love you so much ❤️

↪︎ momsfriend1 where is the little girl who was chasing animals around the fields and jumping in puddles? why do they grow up so fast? liked by the author

↪︎ momsfriend2 the prettiest girl 😍💐 liked by the author

liked by flonorris1, savnorris, natalie_pinkham and 34.137 others adam_norris_pure_electric Congratulations landonorris and thebride

↪︎ user adam and cisca beat every single "evil in-laws" stereotype ever

↪︎ olivernorris1 I'm not cleaning that pool, just so we're clear. They jumped in it, they can clean it. ↪︎ landonorris boooo no fun with u ↪︎ olivernorris1 do you consider jumping in a pool while wearing your wedding attire a fun?! ↪︎ flonorris1 don't pretend like you didn't jump straight behind him! ↪︎ adam_norris_pure_electric you all are cleaning that pool ↪︎ thebride even me? 🥺 ↪︎ adam_norris_pure_electric not you, my dear, but if you could help cisca and sav with lunch? ↪︎ thebride absolutely! ↪︎ landonorris okay i get who's the favorite now ↪︎ olivernorris1 ^^ ↪︎ ciscanorris1 ^^ ↪︎ flonorris1 ^^

↪︎ user jumping into a pool at the end of the wedding party - nothing screams Norris more than that

liked by riabish, thebride, mattyp1 and 74.295 others quadrant when boss gets married, it means one thing. IT'S NEW MERCH TIME! 'Happily Ever After' is set to drop this Friday at 10.00am GMT, don't forget to put your alarm clocks on! (tagged landonorris, thebride)

↪︎ user the speed i put my alarm on

↪︎ user like i'd ever miss quadrant merch

↪︎ user getting married in two months, guess what will be a late-night party attire?!

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton, parishilton and 447.259 others thebride sorry it's not that new headset you wanted. hope this wedding gift works as well. welcome home, Fergus Bobby Norris (tagged landonorris)

↪︎ landonorris don't u dare to compare Fergie to a headset! he's the best gift i could ever receive. thank you for him, my love 🧡 liked by the author ↪︎ maxfewtrell jesus calm down man, it's a dog not a baby ↪︎ landonorris he is our baby! for now 😏 ↪︎ thebride 👀 ↪︎ maxfewtrell TMI! TMI!

↪︎ mclaren welcome to the family little guy! we'll make sure the factory is puppy-proofed before you come back from your honeymoon! liked by the author ↪︎ thebride 🧡🧡🧡

↪︎ oscarpiastri does that officially make me a dog uncle? liked by the author ↪︎ thebride of course! ↪︎ landonorris i guess so ↪︎ charles_leclerc but, but, what about leo?! ↪︎ oscarpiastri leo is my brother, not my nephew ↪︎ alex_albon this family tree's starting to be a bit complicated ↪︎ georgerussell63 no shit sherlock!

↪︎ alexandrasaintmleux playdate when? francisca.cgomes roscoelovescoco liked by the author ↪︎ thebride does AD work? ↪︎ francisca.cgomes works for me ↪︎ roscoelovescoco can't wait's for all the fun's!

↪︎ user OMG WE'LL GET A WHOLE PADDOCK DOG GANG TOGETHER! ↪︎ thebride shhh don't scream please, Fergie's sleeping 🤫 ↪︎ user ups, sorry my queen 🫡

[flemingology]

christmas request - you get sexy christmas lingerie and surprise leah with a lapdance (which inevitably leads to smut)

unwrapping you ─ leah williamson x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: you leave leah's best surprise for last

warnings: implied smut (18+), lap dance, language but also a whole load of fluff

wc: 3.9k

a/n: most unrealistic part in this fic is chicken soup and sandwiches being one of leah fav foods (god forbid that woman eats something colored). in other words... how does one write a lap dance????? this is not full-blown smut. i didn't really feel like including that in this series, but i hope i still did your request justice. <3

Your first Christmas with Leah had been perfect.

Your lover woke you up this morning to breakfast in bed, Leah wanting to make use of the fact she finally perfected the one recipe she knew – fluffy pancakes. You thanked her accordingly with a couple fierce kisses that soon turned into way more than either of you had planned, the two of you finally rolling out of bed a good two hours later, messy hair and flushed cheeks a testament to what you had been up to in bed.

You took a warm shower together, and then set foot outside for a light Sunday morning stroll through London's Christmas markets. You walked side by side, one hand occupied with holding Leah's, other hand nursing a hot chocolate. You took your time on each stall, admiring all the handmade ornaments, pieces of clothing and so many other things that were up for sale. You managed not to spend too much, not getting anything more than a small extra present for your sister and a cute little ornament you would add to your table decoration for the team dinner on New Year's Day.

Back home, you made a quick lunch. You heated up some leftovers from the night before, when you made chicken soup and some sandwiches, one of Leah's self-proclaimed favorite dishes that you made. You spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about, gliding from one Friends episode into the other, drifting in and out of sleep in each other's arms on the couch.

It wasn't until evening came around though, that the best part of the day took place. You had kept the best for last; the presents. Normally you weren't one to wait for the evening, but Leah claimed that it would be cozier, and you had to agree. Your apartment was coated in a warm glow from the mood lighting all around, a couple vanilla-scented candles adding to the cozy atmosphere, you and your blonde lover cuddled up on the couch, a pile of unopened presents ready to be attacked on your coffee table.

As promise to one another, neither of you went overboard. Leah had quite the tendency to spoil you, but you wanted none of that. And to your surprise, she actually stuck to her promise. There were 5 presents on the coffee table; 2 for your girlfriend and 3 for you. Unbeknownst to Leah, though, her 3rd and arguably best present of the night, was already unpacked and waiting for her under your layer of clothes.

A couple days ago, while Leah was at training, you ventured out into the busy streets of London for a final surprise for your girlfriend. You were more than happy with the two presents you had at hand, but you couldn't shake the thought in your mind that had been there for the past couple of weeks, to buy a new set of red, lace lingerie – one that you knew would drive her completely nuts.

So with that secret in mind, you and Leah started opening your presents. She insisted you opened the first one.

"For you, my love," she said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as she handed you the first of her presents, the smallest one. You inspected the envelope, not able to make much from it on first glance. It looked elegant, though, a golden glow coming from the paper. You carefully opened the envelope, revealing a light green card with pastel accents. You couldn't really figure out what it was just yet, but with a little nudging from your girlfriend in the right direction, your eyes lit up as it dawned on you. "You booked us a weekend away?"

Leah nodded, a soft hum leaving her lips. "I know you've been wanting to get away for a little while," she started, taking one of your hands in hers. "I've been busy. You've been busy. But we can take a couple days for ourselves and for us. It'll be nice." Leah had a tentative look on her face, her eyes scanning yours, as if she was gauging whether you were actually happy with this.

Leah was right. The two of you had been extremely busy lately – your girlfriend's football schedule ramping up, and it seemed like the winter months had brought an influx of people wanting to buy estate, leaving you with a tremendous amount of work that you more often than not also took home.

You quickly gave Leah a fierce nod after you realized you got caught up in your thoughts, leaning towards her and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "Thank you, I love this. I love you. We need it. It'll be good," you mumbled against her lips, your hand cupping her cheek and giving her another peck before you pulled away.

"My turn," you said excitedly. You grabbed the smallest one, a square box delicately wrapped in an elegant-looking black wrapping paper with silver accents. "This looks neat," Leah chuckled, and you bit your lip in apprehension as you handed her your first present. Unlike you, Leah wasn't so delicate with unwrapping presents. She was all ripping and tearing, nothing graceful about her movements. She'd never been a patient one when it came to things like these, and in all fairness, you couldn't blame her. Forever a kid at heart, Leah loved presents.

You got pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a faint gasp escaping your lover's throat. You searched Leah's eyes for any emotion but you couldn't read it, your heart starting to beat a little faster. "Babe, this is...," Leah inspected her present a little closer, "this is gorgeous." She carefully lifted the golden watch out of it's holder and held it in the light, the timepiece brightly reflecting the cozy hue in your apartment.

You'd first gotten the idea when you noticed Leah was online shopping the other day, looking for a new watch. You knew she liked to have a couple, alternating between them based on what outfit she'd wear. She'd been speaking about a new golden one for a while now, the one she had had lasted its time and she wanted a new one. Ever the observer, you'd made a mental note. A perfect Christmas gift.

Leah sported a bright smile, her gaze now pointed towards you. "Thank you, I've been looking at getting a new one, this is perfect," Leah took your hand in hers and gave it an appreciative squeeze, putting the watch back in it's holder and carefully placing the box back on the coffee table. "You could wear it with the black suit you have for New Year's Eve, it'd look really good," you said softly, Leah replying with nothing more than a suggestive wink.

Your blonde lover reached back over to the presents, grabbing a little silver bag and handing it to you. "We're staying in theme," Leah chuckled. You raised your eyebrows at her before your fingers made quick work of untying the knot, revealing a fine, silver necklace with a little L on. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you took in your present, admiring the way it glistened. "I know this seems like I'm basically claiming you, but I wouldn't have bought you this if you hadn't told me about a million times that you wanted one of these."

You let out a breathy laugh, throwing your head back against the couch. "Just for the record, I have no problem with you claiming me." You locked eyes with your girlfriend and saw a little twinkle in hers, to which you surged forward and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. "Thank you. You wanna help putting it on?" Leah nodded eagerly and twisted her body towards yours, clasping the necklace around your neck. Her fingers ghosted over the L that now hung between your collarbones. She kissed your lips once more, lingering a little before she pulled away again and sat upright.

Your next present for Leah was something you knew she'd be over the moon with. Arsenal through and through, your girlfriend had been collecting vintage Arsenal kits ever since you remember. Signed, worn, match kits, training kits, your wardrobe was full with her Arsenal memorabilia. There was one missing though, Arsenal's home shirt from the 2005/06 season, their last year at Highbury. You stumbled across it on Vinted a couple months ago and couldn't believe that it hadn't been picked up yet. The shirt was in perfect state, Thierry Henry's name and number splayed out on the back of it. You paid no mind to the price and ordered it immediately, knowing just how happy your girlfriend would be with it.

You passed her your second present. She felt around a little. "It's definitely clothing." She fumbled around a bit longer with the wrapping paper, before you interrupted. "Le, baby, how about you just open it and see what's inside instead of guessing." Her cheeks blushed a faint red but she complied nonetheless, once again very ungracefully tearing away at the wrapping paper.

Leah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she took sight of the burgundy shirt. You couldn't really tell with the lack of proper lighting in the room, but you swear you saw a couple unshed tears in her eyes. She quickly made work of the plastic layer around the shirt, holding it up in front of her. "Check the back," you said softly, reaching out towards your girlfriend and resting your hand on her leg that was slightly bouncing, testament to her excitement.

Leah turned the shirt around and you saw her smile growing impossibly bigger. "Babe, genuinely, what the fuck." You chuckled and shuffled closer to her, leaning your head on her shoulder and admiring the shirt along with her. "Nice one, eh?" Leah turned her face towards you and she cocked an eyebrow. "Nice? This isn't just 'nice', this is incredible," Leah scoffed. She turned the shirt back around, feeling the fabric, checking the label, as if she was still not sure whether this was real. "God, you've outdone yourself, y/n. I can't top this."

A smile tugged on the corners of your lips, pressing a soft kiss against Leah's cheek. "I knew you'd love it." Leah folded the shirt neatly and put it down on the coffee table next to the watch, turning her body towards yours. She cupped your cheeks and pressed a tender kiss against your lips, saying so much more than words could grasp. "You're amazing. I love you so much."

Leah pecked your lips another couple times before she retreated and set back against the armrest of the couch. "If I knew an Arsenal shirt was all it would take for you to be so expressive with you love, I wouldn't have waited this long," you said teasingly, earning a grunt and a playful swat at your thigh from your lover. "I am expressive with my love. Don't start on me!" A light giggle fell from your lips and waved away any further protest by grabbing Leah's hand and pressing a soft kiss against her palm. "You've got one more from me," Leah announced giddily, removing her hand from yours and grabbing the final present from the table. "This one's a bit more... sentimental."

You raised your eyebrows at your girlfriend, trying to read anything into her expression, but failing. "Sentimental...," you pried. "Yeah. Just open it. You'll see." You took the present from Leah's hands, the package laying relatively heavy in your hands. You carefully unwrapped it, each tear of the paper revealing a little more of Leah's final present. Eventually, you realized what it was. A handmade book of the last three years of your relationship. The book was littered with polaroids, screenshots of messages, souvenirs from places you went together, movie tickets, little notes you left for her to find on days you were out the country, and so many more. You could feel a stray tear making its way down your cheek as you scrolled your way through the book, catching it as quick as possible before it could fall on the paper and ruin anything. "Gosh, Leah,..." you mumbled, "sentimental is one way to put it, yeah," you said, muttering out the words past the obvious lump in your throat, sniffling a couple times as the memories unfolded underneath your fingers.

"You like it?" Leah's voice sounded small, and it almost agitated you, because you didn't even know how to begin voicing to her how much this meant to you. Leah wasn't one for the big romantic gestures, nor was she very showy with her affection, so for her to do something like this, to put so much time and effort into handcrafting this, it meant the world to you. You lifted your head and locked your gaze with your girlfriend's, a small frown etched between your eyebrows. "Le, please,..." you breathed, "do I like it?" You scoffed, and shook your head lightly at how ridiculous you found the question. "This means so much to me, Leah, you know that." You felt the blonde nudge a little closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder and looking at the polaroid your fingers seemed to linger on. "Remember that night?" she said softly, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder.

"Of course I do," you said matter-of-factly. It was a polaroid you'd taken on the first time Leah slept over at your apartment. You'd been over at hers plenty of times, but somehow her sleeping over at yours felt like a step up. She'd come over and brought your favorite Italian take-away. Initially you both insisted on cooking together, but a long day at respectively football and work lulled you both into the comfort of having a meal prepared for you. You lounged on the sofa for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing until you settled for watching a film wrapped in each other's embrace. Somewhere during the night, though, you felt like the air had shifted a little. Touches lingered a little longer, kisses were a little sloppier, leading to the first time you made love to one another later that night. It was messy, clumsy and very nervous, but it was perfect. Perfect, because it was yours.

The memories flooded your mind and you couldn't help the jolt of arousal that coursed through your body upon remembering the events of that night. You leaned your head against Leah's, pressing a kiss against her temple. "As much as I would love to look through all of this right now, I've got one last present for you," you said softly, coaxing her head off your shoulder, carefully closing the handmade book and placing it on the coffee table. You tried to ignore the little insecurity that crept underneath your skin when you thought about Leah's final present. Deep down, you knew she'd love it, but you always felt a little apprehensive about things like this. The lingerie was one thing, the lap dance you were planning on giving her a whole other. "Another one? But it's not on the table?" Leah's eyes scanned around the room, clearly confused as to where you could've hidden another present. "It's not there, Le," you chuckled at the expression on her face. "It's upstairs. You stay here, I'll be right back," you put a hand on her chest and gave her lips a chaste kiss, standing up from the couch and making your way up the stairs before she could quip back a response.

You thanked your former self for having already put on the lingerie before Leah came home this afternoon, one less thing to worry about now in your nervous state. You slipped off Leah's your hoodie and sweatpants you'd been wearing, your girlfriend insisting that she wanted you to spend tonight in cozy clothing. You braved a look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, and you felt some of the insecurities melt away. You looked good. The lingerie hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all the curves you knew Leah loved so much. The longline bra was snug around your waist, the lace perfectly outlining the curve of your breasts. The thin red bottoms left little to the imagination, the waistband – accentuated with a little ribbon – just underneath your belly button. They gave prominence to your strong, tanned legs, likely your favorite thing about this set. You gave yourself an appreciative nod and pulled a robe out of your shared wardrobe, draping it over your half-naked body, giving Leah an extra layer to take off. You quickly decided to also pull a pair of red heels out of your wardrobe, putting them on and making your way out of the bedroom before you could doubt your choice of footwear. You stood at the edge of the stairs and took a steadying breath before you started making your way down. The clicking of your heels alerted Leah immediately, not able to delay her seeing you until you were downstairs.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in your outfit, and she put her phone down that she was mindlessly scrolling on to pass some time while you were upstairs. You could see a little glint in her eyes as you took the final step of the stairs, making your way back over to the couch at a tantalizingly slow pace. The air had most definitely shifted, Leah's intense gaze locking with yours as you slowed to a stop right in front of her. A smile tugged at your lips and you grabbed Leah's chin between your thumb and index finger, coaxing her face up towards yours and pressing a dizzying kiss against her lips. "I told you I had one final present," you mumbled against her mouth. "Why don't you discover what's underneath this robe?" You softly bit Leah's bottom lip as you let go of her lips, a lust-filled haze now clouding her eyes as she thought about what could be underneath the robe.

Leah's fingers made quick work of the knot tied around your waist, leaving the piece of clothing to fall to the ground, revealing your lingerie. "Oh," Leah's breath hitched in her throat and you would've grown insecure about her reaction if you hadn't seen the twinkle in her eyes. You were hit by a flurry of confidence and you twirled around, shaking your ass a little while your back was facing her before you turned back to face her. "Fuck, babe, this is..." Your girlfriend's words got caught in her throat as she let her eyes rake over your body once more, making sure she wasn't dreaming. You'd worn lingerie for her a couple times, after she had voiced how much she'd love it if you tried a couple sets. But never had it been a thing outside of the bedroom. You'd worn lingerie sets, worn sets underneath robes for her to discover, but it always happened in the comfort of your own bed. This, though, was a next step. A slight blush coated your cheeks as you felt Leah's intense gaze on you. She reached out one of her hands and looked up to you apprehensively, "Can I?" A smile tugged at your lips and you let out a light chuckle. "I'm all yours."

Leah's hands roamed all over your body, from your waist, to your thighs, to your lace-covered breasts, your calves, your ass, your girlfriend didn't leave a spot untouched. It wasn't long before her touches grew needy, and you put a hand against her chest to stop her, not wanting the rest of her surprise to get lost in her own excitement. "Le, wait," you said. Her eyes flicked up to yours, and you noticed how wide her pupils had gotten. A smirk made its way onto your face as to what would happen next. "You've been so good to me. Let me do this for you, okay?" You didn't await Leah's response. Instead you pulled Leah forward a little, and turned your body around, spreading your legs sitting yourself down on her lap. You couldn't ignore the doubts that crept in your mind about what you were doing, because you had never done anything like this. You'd sat on Leah's lap, plenty of times, but you'd never given her a lap dance. You did your research, naturally, you even watched a couple videos – although you had to click those off due to the abundance of secondhand embarrassment you experienced. Either way, you tried to calm your nerves by thinking how much Leah would love this, no matter how good you were at it. She never failed to voice her love for your bum.

Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you leaned your back against Leah's chest and gave a tentative roll of your hips against her lap. The slight hitch of your girlfriend's breath didn't go unnoticed to you and it gave you the fire in your belly to continue your ministrations. You started grinding your hips against hers in a steady but slow rhythm. You alternated between moves, gently bouncing up and down Leah's lap or popping your hips every now and then, every reaction you pulled out of your girlfriend fueling your confidence. You could sense Leah was a bit unsure as to what to do with her hands, but as the time went on and she felt herself getting more and more aroused, she started guiding your body along with her hands. She aided your movements, pushing you down against her hips, loving the way your behind brushed her core with every gyration of your hips.

A couple moments passed and an idea popped into your mind. You leaned back into your girlfriend, your head resting on her shoulder as you looked up towards her and your gazes locked, a small frown etched on your face that was driving Leah wild. You locked lips with her and you couldn't hold back the breathy moan that escaped your lips at the feeling of her mouth against yours. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, and it perfectly encapsulated the building pressure between the both of you. You tried moving your hips in an eight-figure, which pulled a groan from your girlfriend. "You're driving me crazy," Leah whispered into your ear, softly nipping at your earlobe as she kept her hands firmly on your waist.

You let out a breathy laugh that soon turned into a whimper as Leah's hands moved up towards your breasts, palming them and placing kisses against your back as you rolled your hips back into hers. One of your arms was placed on Leah's thighs, holding yourself up, and you threw the other around your girlfriend's neck, letting your nails rake over the skin on the back of her neck. Your moves grew frantic as you felt arousal building in your core, your gyrations less measured and less precise, the more Leah's hands started to wander all over your body. Any remnants of your earlier insecurity long washed away, you were more than pleased with how your final present for your girlfriend turned out. "God, Le, you feel so good," you breathed out as you let your head fall to her shoulder once again, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. A particularly harsh thrust of your hips against hers caused Leah to groan again, digging her fingers into your sides as she whispered in your ear.

"Bedroom. Now."

[punkshort]

Evergreen | Chapter Four: Depression

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: With some comforting words from Sarah and Daniel, you and Joel work things out.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, grief, soft!joel, smut (18+ MDNI), oral f!receiving, lil size kink, unprotected piv sex, feelings, therapy

WC: 8.3K

Series Masterlist

Daniel's office was always the hardest room to spend any amount of time in since his death, but the hurt compounded even more when you were reminded of the first time you kissed Joel on the green couch in the corner.

You weren't even sure what you were doing. The idea of moving out of town wasn't concrete, per se, but you still found yourself packing up Daniel's office. What started simple enough with taping up open boxes of books turned into almost two hours of scrutinizing every single item in his desk. Business cards, scribbled notes, old bills, and a few pictures of the two of you filled his junk drawer. Half used pens, a calculator, an old pair of glasses and the medal his university granted him when he went back to give a commencement speech three years prior filled another. But what ultimately drew your attention was a yellow legal pad shoved underneath his laptop. Pages and pages and pages of notes filled a decent chunk of it. From what you could tell, it was an outline for the next book he was in the middle of writing, the very same manuscript you had given to Ellie. Most of it didn't make sense to you, but you read it anyway. Your fingertips traced over his familiar, elegant handwriting. It was one of the things you loved about Daniel when you first met. He didn't have terrible chicken scratch like most men you knew. He took his time when he wrote. He savored every letter. Each word was a beautiful mix of print and cursive that was so uniquely him.

Your eyes grew a little misty as you admired each page of notes, but you weren't sad. On the contrary, you felt happy. You felt connected to him again, if only just for a brief few minutes. But when you got to the last page, what you read stole your breath and destroyed the resolve you managed to build up.

To the love of my life. My better half. My biggest fan and toughest critic.

I can't wait to marry you, my love. I look forward to lazy Sunday mornings with your homemade waffles and my terrible coffee for the rest of our lives. You deserve the world. Someone to worship at your feet and be there for you when you're feeling weak. I've got no idea why you've chosen me, but every day I wake up eternally grateful you did. Just know you will make me happy until my dying breath, and I hope I am able to do the same for you.

The only thing I ever want in this life is to see you happy.

Tears streamed down your face. You had to shove the pad of paper away before drops fell on the page and ruined Daniel's last message to you. Swiveling around, you opened a few drawers until you found a box of tissues, then you buried your face in your hands and wept. Wept for the life you could have had with Daniel and for the one you foolishly threw away with Joel. Shockingly, his words managed to ease the guilt that had settled heavy in your chest for the past week. While he had been talking about himself being the one to make you happy in his dedication, you knew Daniel. He wasn't a selfish man. He was caring and sweet and kind. And he wouldn't want you to be miserable and lonely for the rest of your life. He truly was always happy whenever you were happy.

Joel was like that, too. He was so different from Daniel in many ways, but at their core, they were the same. They were soft and trusting and loving. They cared so deeply for you and wanted to make you happy. Both were so gentle and careful with you, patient and funny. It was no wonder you found yourself drawn to Joel in the first place.

Your doorbell chimed unexpectedly downstairs, followed by an urgent rap on the door. You frowned and snatched up a new tissue so you could dab at your cheeks while you made your way down the steps. Glancing out the window on the bottom stair, you saw a small, unfamiliar sedan in your driveway. You hesitated for just a moment with your hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering who it could be. Not many people stopped by your house. The paranoid part of you wondered if it was a reporter, the trauma from being harassed after Daniel's passing still living somewhere deep inside. But then a young girl's voice drifted through from the other side, startling you.

"Hey, please open up. It's Sarah," she said, then paused before adding, "Joel's daughter."

You shakily unlocked the door and swung it open. She appeared slightly disheveled, like she was in a hurry. Or maybe you were just reading her energy because she certainly came off rushed.

"Is everything okay?" you asked her. Visions of Joel at a job site pinned under some heavy beams flashed through your mind, an unexpected knee jerk reaction that was no doubt trauma from the car accident with Daniel.

"Yeah, everything's fine - sorry," she said immediately when she realized how it must have looked to show up at your door out of the blue. "I was hoping we could talk. Do you have a minute?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah," you said, glancing over your shoulder before opening your door wider for her. "Come on in."

You watched her slide off her sneakers and you closed the door before pointing towards the kitchen.

"Can I get you something to eat or drink? I have-"

"No, thank you. I don't think I have a ton of time, actually," she said, worrying her lower lip as she glanced out the front window towards your driveway.

"Well, alright. Here, have a seat," you replied, ushering her into the sitting room. She sunk down onto your sofa and you paused for a moment before choosing to sit in the soft leather chair across from her. Sarah's hands fidgeted in her lap as her eyes swept across the room, taking in every detail of the old Victorian home before letting her gaze linger on a few framed photos of you and Daniel on the mantle.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, tearing her eyes away to look at you. "I'm so fucking sorry. I was rude and I had no right to treat you the way I did. I know it's not an excuse but I was just... surprised. I guess when I thought my dad was ready to move on, he would have dated someone closer to his age." Sarah took a steadying breath while you remained silent, stunned by her sudden outburst. "Then I realized it wasn't really about the age thing. I don't think it would have mattered who he dated. It was just... weird, I guess."

Sarah shamefully stared down at her fingers tangled in her lap, waiting for you to wrap your head around her apology.

"Uh, wow. Well... thank you. That means a lot to me," you told her with a soft sniffle. "Your dad always spoke so much about you, it felt like I knew you, in a way. After everything the two of you had been through, I don't blame you one bit."

She risked a glance up at you, eyes all wide and watery.

"Really? Just like that?"

You smiled and nodded.

"Of course. I'm not going to hold it against you," you shrugged. "We weren't really trying to keep it a secret from you, just so you know. It was more like we were taking it slow and seeing where things went." Your eyes drifted to a photo of you and Daniel on the wall and your chest tightened. "It wasn't - it was hard for us both."

Sarah followed your gaze and felt the guilt creep back up.

"I know. My dad told me about your fiancé. I'm so sorry," she said, turning to look at you. "I loved his books. He was so creative. Like, the worlds he built up were so incredible and beautiful. He was one of my favorite authors." Then she remembered the gift you had given Joel and she added, "Thank you for those books. The ones you gave my dad. They're absolutely stunning and I promise to take good care of them, I know those are rare editions."

Your face lit up. "You're welcome. He would have wanted someone like you to have them. He was so appreciative of his readers for giving him a platform to live his dream."

"He sounded like a really great guy," she said sympathetically.

"He was," you replied softly. "After the accident, I could hardly get out of bed for weeks. I thought my life was over. I know how dramatic that sounds but I never thought I'd be able to move on, until-"

You cut yourself off, but Sarah knew what you were going to say. She inched forward on the couch with her eyebrows knit together.

"Could you please give him another chance?" she pleaded. "I don't want to see him lonely. I don't want you to be lonely. And, shit... you were getting him to actually exercise and eat vegetables!"

You laughed and shook your head.

"I didn't ask him to do that."

"But he was doing it because of you," she protested. "I've been trying to get him to eat better for years and he knows you a few weeks and suddenly he's chopping up peppers for dinner. It's definitely you."

You felt your cheeks warm as you let your eyes wander aimlessly around the room, surrounded by the memories of your first true love while sitting across from the extension of your second.

"Okay. I'll give him a call," you relented. When your eyes found hers again, she was looking out your window.

"I don't think that's necessary," she said, standing up. The corner of her mouth twitched and when you heard a car door slam in your driveway, you jumped up from your chair. You had barely made it three steps before you heard Joel rapping loudly on your front door.

"Ugh, Dad, you're filthy," Sarah scolded when she swung open the door with a frown.

"What're you doin' here?" he asked, wild eyes glancing over her shoulder. "Where's-"

He stopped short when you stepped into view behind her, giving him a shy wave. Sarah shifted to the side with a sly smile, eyes darting back and forth between you and Joel. Neither of you spoke. There was so much to say but you had no idea how to start. Then your gaze drifted down his frame, taking in his dusty jeans, boots, and black work tshirt. Memories of the day you visited him at work for lunch flashed through your mind and you swallowed tightly.

"O-okay," Sarah said, slowly drawing the word out when she bent over to slide her sneakers back on. "My work is done here. I'll leave you to it."

Joel blinked and tore his eyes away from you to look at his daughter, who was in the process of squeezing past him.

"What'dya mean?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to clear the air. Rest is up to you, old man," she teased, poking him in the shoulder. She gave you a friendly wave goodbye before skipping down the porch steps and back towards her car.

Joel's head swiveled back and forth between you and his daughter, still confused and trying to figure out what to do but when Sarah backed out of your driveway and disappeared down the street with a playful honk of her horn, his choice was made.

He turned back to look at you. Now that Sarah was gone and the initial bewilderment wore off, Joel's nerves began to make his heart thump faster and sweat collect under his collar.

"Do you, um," you glanced into your home over your shoulder before meeting his eye again. "Would you like to come inside?"

"Yes," he replied far too eagerly, making you smile when you held the door open for him. He toed off his boots and cringed. "Sorry for the mess. Was just gettin' home from work and found them two stirrin' shit up so I just raced on over."

"That's alright, I don't mi- wait, two?"

Joel nodded and followed you into your kitchen.

"Ellie came by lookin' for me 'n found Sarah," he explained, delicately sitting down at the kitchen table and praying he didn't leave a trail of dust behind him. The thought of sullying your beautiful home, the place where you found peace, irked him.

"Ellie?" you repeated, voice laced with surprise as you scooped coffee grounds into the filter. "Why did Ellie stop by?"

"To tell me you're skippin' town," he replied bluntly.

Your finger froze on the button of the coffee maker. Shit.

"That's not entirely true," you replied feebly. You turned around, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed protectively over your chest. Fuck, why did he have to look so good? Sitting there in your kitchen after a long day at work watching you mill around had your mind wandering, wondering what it would be like to have him come home to you just like that every single day.

"It was something I was considering," you continued. "My parents have been hounding me to move back home."

"Thought you wanted to stay in Texas," he said softly. You watched his finger anxiously dig into the side of your table.

"I did. I mean, I do. It's just..." you trailed off and looked around the room. Your throat grew tight when you said, "I can't live in this house anymore, Joel. I love it, but... I don't - I can't-"

Tears welled up in your eyes. You cast your gaze down to the floor, not noticing when Joel stood up and crossed the room until you smelled the familiar scent of sawdust and peppermint right in front of you.

You didn't even allow yourself to think. You just stepped forward, burying your face in his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you let the tears silently fall while he held you close, murmuring into your hair that you were going to be alright.

"Don't go," he whispered when your tears had slowed and the coffee pot pinged, alerting you it was finished brewing. Your fingers tightly gripped at his shirt.

"Joel-"

"Please," he begged, pulling back just far enough so you could see the vulnerability etched across his face. "I'm sorry I didn't make you stay that night. I'm sorry I didn't run after you. When I met you, you took me by surprise, darlin', and I'm way outta my area of expertise here, but I-"

Your mouth crashed against his, silencing him with your answer. In an instant, his hands flew up to cup your face, cradling you gently, carefully, yet you still felt his strength wrapping itself around you like a blanket.

"Sweetheart," Joel gasped, pulling away from your kiss but still pressing his forehead against yours, unwilling to let you go. "I don't think I can survive losin' someone again," he told you selfishly, voice trembling as your fingers fanned across his cheek. Fresh tears stung your eyes as your lips found the underside of his jaw and he sighed, dropping his arms to wrap around you tightly.

You weren't sure exactly what it was, but something shifted. Maybe it had been enough to hear from Sarah directly that she was okay with you and her dad being together. Maybe it was the note you found in Daniel's desk. Maybe it was the beautiful reminder that so many people cared enough about you to drop what they were doing to fight for you to stay in their lives. Whatever it was, it had you feeling at finally peace after losing Daniel. The heaviness in your chest was replaced with warmth and hope. It made you believe it was okay to move on and let go.

Your hand that was pressed against his cheek fell to his chest and slowly trailed down his stomach until you felt the cool metal of his belt buckle against your fingertips. Beneath your lips, you felt his neck muscles tense and his pulse skyrocket.

"Wh-what're you doin'?" Joel murmured. His throat bobbed when your fingers hooked around the buckle, pinky slowly sliding the leather from the clasp.

"Do you want me to stop?" you whispered. You opened your eyes to gaze up at him, lips hovering over a red mark you had left just above his collarbone. His skin tasted salty from his dried sweat after working hard all day and it had your mind going a little fuzzy.

Joel shook his head and closed his eyes. You took it as your invitation to continue leaving kisses down the column of his throat while your hand resumed its work on his belt.

"I didn't get a chance to clean up," he rasped when his belt opened loose around his hips. He felt his hands begin to tremble from the nerves and anticipation, so he took a deep breath.

"That's okay. I like you like this," you mumbled. You began to tug on his shirt, pulling the hem from his pants. You were working with urgency, fearful that your guilt might pop up out of nowhere and ruin the moment.

Joel chuckled, pushing his own insecurities aside when he felt your palms slide across his too-soft stomach.

"Why the hell would you like me filthy from a job site all day?" he found himself asking, more so to just calm his nerves a bit as you continued to blindly explore his upper half underneath his shirt.

You nipped playfully at his skin before you said, "Because it's a reminder of how hard you work. And how much you deserve to be taken care of," you explained, pushing him so he began to walk backwards out of your kitchen.

Joel's breath caught in his throat. Unknowingly, you had said the very words he longed to hear and it sent a rush of blood between his legs. He hadn't been taken care of by anybody in so long that he almost forgot what it felt like to have someone else help carry the burden of his daily responsibilities. Someone else to lean on when he felt weak and someone else to turn to when he wanted to share in his happiness.

"You- you sure 'bout this?" he stammered when his heels knocked into the bottom step. You pulled away and grabbed his hand. With a firm nod, you began to lead him up the stairs, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

On the way to your bedroom, he caught sight of himself in a mirror. His face was flushed, hair dusty and unkempt. His shirt looked messier than usual after you had been tugging on it and he cringed when he noticed the hole at the collar he must have missed earlier that morning when he was getting ready. But even with all that, he still felt giddy. He had a smile stretched so wide it practically hurt his cheeks. And although he looked a mess, his pants half undone with his cock already straining against the denim, he didn't feel foolish or out of place. He felt like a teenager sneaking up to a girl's room while her parents slept. He felt excited and happy and hopeful not only for what was waiting for him in your bedroom, but for what the future held. And just like that, any remaining reservations about his age or physique disappeared when he crossed the threshold into your bedroom for the first time.

His eyes bounced eagerly around the room in the few moments he had before you tugged him down to your level, pressing your mouth feverishly against his while you worked to undo your own pants. The first thing he had noticed was your room was very you. Girly colors and light furniture decorated every square inch. The paintings on the walls were of flowers and some inspirational quote he didn't have time to read. Your bed had a canopy. Sheer white curtains were tied to your headboard and it made him smile when he thought of you waking up every morning in such a beautiful room.

He would find out later you had completely redecorated after Daniel passed away. Top to bottom, new paint and furniture. It made sense. You didn't want to be haunted by your past, turn to look at something he built or picked out. Didn't want to think about the intimate moments you had with him and never would again every time you went to sleep.

Joel didn't have much to even consider any of that in the moment because you had fallen back onto your bed, jeans abandoned on the floor while sweetly reaching out for him to join you.

"Christ," he muttered, unable to stop his eyes from flickering down your body and over your bare legs before pausing on the lacy panties hugging your hips.

Ten years. It had been ten fucking years since he had sex. And you were so goddamn beautiful and perfect, spread out for him with your chest heaving and lust filling your eyes as you waited for him to snap out of it and come join you.

His gaze met yours and something unspoken passed between you. You both had your respective baggage and you each knew it, yet you trusted one another with the most sensitive pieces of your souls. And that had to mean something. That had to mean what you had was special.

He bent forward, fists pressing into the mattress on either side of you, and began to pepper kisses up your legs. He could hear your breath grow heavy the closer he got to the apex of your thighs and it made him smile to hear someone so perfect as you become so affected by his touch. He had hardly done anything and already you were wiggling and offering him soft little moans when you felt his exhale fan over your clothed sex.

There was no way he was going to last. Ten years. He wasn't even sure he still remembered his old moves. Even if he did, he wanted you so badly he probably wouldn't have enough time before he came.

But there was one thing he did remember how to do, and if his memory served him well, he was pretty damn good at it.

"Can I take these off, honey?" he asked with his fingers looped around the sides of your panties. His voice came out deeper than he expected, making a shiver shoot down your spine.

"Mhmm," was all you could manage, then you squeezed your legs together and lifted your hips, giving him what he needed to gently pull your underwear down your legs then tossed them onto the floor.

He inhaled sharply when your legs fell open, revealing the wetness that had already collected, all slick and shiny and just for him.

"Goddamn, you're perfect," he said breathlessly. His hands spread wide over your soft thighs, moving slowly to curve around and hold you open. When his knees hit the carpeted floor and he settled his shoulders between your legs, he heard your breath quicken. His cock twitched, still stuck in the restricting confines of his jeans, when he saw a fresh drip of arousal roll through your slit, and he couldn't hold back. He lunged forward, tongue curling to catch it with a groan, not even registering the surprised noise you made. His eyes fluttered closed as he went back for more, lips suctioning around your folds and tongue diving inside for another taste.

"O-oh my god, Joel," you moaned, fingers clawing uselessly at the sheets. His chest swelled with pride, your broken voice only serving to encourage him further.

Your mind went blissfully blank as he expertly dragged his tongue up and down, collecting every drop of your arousal and swallowing it eagerly. His jaw worked steadily, widening his mouth with each messy kiss against your cunt. Every flick of his tongue was deliberate, every suck of his lips exquisite. He had you trembling under his grasp in a matter of minutes, completely forgetting that it had been a long time since you had last been touched, as well.

When your hands grabbed roughly at his hair, he grunted but never faltered. The slight pain prickling his scalp from the sharp tugs on his greying curls kept him focused and in the moment. It made him pay attention to every sound and thrust of your hips, memorizing what made you come undone. But when his tongue was flooded with another wave of arousal, all thick and sweet and musky, it had his head swimming and his own hips bucking pathetically against the side of your bed.

He forgot how much he fucking loved this. How enjoyable it was to have a gorgeous woman become a writhing mess from his mouth. To hear his name like a song inbetween heavy gasps of air. To run his tongue over the softest and warmest place imaginable. To hear the high pitched whines when he finally scraped his teeth over that swollen bud he always saved for last.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out when his lips wrapped around your clit. "Fuck! Joel- ohmygod - Joel... please d-don't stop, please..." you begged, his cock swelling painfully in his jeans at the sound. He groaned loudly in response, refusing to remove his mouth even for a second. You tasted too good and sounded even better, he just couldn't get enough.

You were chanting curses mixed with his name, hips rocking against his face in rhythm with every swirl of his tongue around your clit. Under his fingers, your thighs tensed and he smiled to himself before he scraped his teeth gently over your bundle of nerves once again.

His timing was perfect. You shouted his name, voice raspy and broken. Your legs clamped around his head when you came with one more wave of slick coating his tongue. He lapped at your center like an animal, groaning and licking and sucking until you couldn't handle it any more. Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, pulled him off you with a gasp, too sensitive to allow him to continue.

"You got a dirty mouth, baby," he teased with a wet, crooked grin. You laughed, face and neck covered in a thin layer of sweat.

"That's rich, considering what you just did with your mouth."

Joel chuckled as he finished undoing his jeans. He let them rest on the floor next to yours, no longer caring how dirty his clothes were, but he found himself hesitating for just a moment when his fingers found the hem of his shirt. You might have noticed, he couldn't be sure, because you sat up on your knees, inching forward til you were at the edge of the bed. Your hands replaced his and you slowly raised his shirt over his head, eyes instantly falling to take him in.

Running and eating better had made his middle a little less soft, but he still had twenty years on you and his body simply wasn't what it used to be. He worried for weeks what you would think of him but as it turned out, you didn't even give him a chance to wonder when you finally laid eyes on him.

"So handsome," you murmured, running your palms over his broad shoulders and down his pecs. That insecure part of himself normally wouldn't have believed you, but when he saw the heady look in your eye, all doubt was erased from his mind.

"Your turn," he said, fingers plucking at your tshirt. He wanted to get the attention off him but he also desperately wanted to see the rest of you.

You lifted your arms above your head so he could peel your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him. He might have been rusty, but he certainly remembered how to remove a bra, doing it with lightning fast speed that had you giggling until his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, melting your laugh into a moan.

Joel flattened his tongue over the hardening bud, his mouth warm against the soft skin of your breast. Your breath stuttered and your fingers flew up to grab onto his shoulders when the tip of his tongue flicked against your nipple before biting and sucking at your soft flesh.

"Perfect," he groaned before releasing your breast just to give the same attention to the other. Your head tipped back, a wrecked moan shuddering through you under his attentive care. "You're so perfect, baby," he mumbled, pressing a wet kiss between your breasts, right over your heart.

Your cheeks flared with heat at his compliment but you took it in stride. Swallowing tightly, you leaned back out of his hold, crawling backwards up the bed and grinning when Joel followed like a moth to a flame.

Hovering over you, his eyes danced over your now bare body with a look of awe. His obvious appreciation and adoration made you feel like a goddess, which was fitting considering he had just been on his knees for you.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world, y'know that?" he whispered while one rough hand brushed lovingly over your stomach and down your hip. You ignored his question, instead focusing on pushing down the band of his boxers, the final barrier between you both. When he kicked them off, his gaze still pinned to your body, your jaw dropped in surprise.

You had never been one to really care much about size when it came to men, your only concern was that they knew how to use it. But when you saw Joel's thick, heavy cock bobbing between you as he shifted his weight, all you could think about was how delicious that stretch would feel when he first entered you.

"Looks like I'm the lucky one," you joked. His eyes found yours again and you saw his cheeks flush with a bashful shake of his head. "It's true," you insisted when he settled onto his elbows. You tried to ignore his cock prodding at your stomach so you could tell him sincerely, "I think we're both lucky."

He smiled wide at that, his eyes squinting and causing the creases next to them to deepen. You smiled back, tracing one of the wrinkles with your fingertip before pushing his hair back behind his ear. Then you curled your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down the rest of the way so you could press your mouth against his.

His tongue dipped slowly into your mouth, giving you the faint taste of yourself while he lifted his hips ever so slightly to blindly line himself up with your entrance. With the tip of his cock pressed against your opening, he mumbled are you ready? into your lips, and you nodded.

Joel tried to kiss you again at the same time he pushed inside you, but your head immediately tipped back with a sharp gasp, so instead he placed sweet kisses against your throat while slowly feeding you his cock, inch by inch, until finally bottoming out with a rough groan.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped, hot breath fanning across your even hotter skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to move. "Y'feel so good. Shit - so fuckin'..."

He couldn't even finish his thought. The way you fit around him so perfectly had him spiraling. You were so tight, so velvety soft and warm that he was fearful if he moved, he would come embarrassingly fast. Fortunately, it seemed you needed some time to adjust, as well. Your breath was shallow and fast, fingers digging harshly into his skin as you desperately tried to ground yourself.

"God, Joel..." you finally moaned, the sound causing goosebumps to flash across his arms. "You're so... fucking big," you added breathlessly. Joel felt his cock twitch and you gasped.

"Can't talk like that, baby."

"I can't help it," you whined, wiggling underneath him as your body slowly became used to his girth. "You feel so good, I feel so full-"

Joel cut you off, crashing his mouth hungrily against yours. You made a little surprised noise in the back of your throat then moaned into his mouth when his hips drew back slowly. You almost complained, almost begged him for more but then he sunk back inside you, stretching your walls and bringing tears to your eyes. He made it a few minutes, slowly rolling his hips, cock splitting you open while searching for that spot he knew would make you scream, but another sign of his age cropped up at the worst time, making him wince and stall mid thrust.

"What's wrong?" you panted, immediately sensing his discomfort.

Joel grunted and let his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. "My goddamn back-"

"Lay down," you commanded, pushing him by the shoulders. He frowned and leaned up to look at you.

"I'll do all the work," you told him sweetly, pecking at his lips before giving him another push, but he didn't budge.

"Sweetheart-"

"I said I was going to take care of you, didn't I?" you challenged with a quirked eyebrow. "And so far, you're the one taking care of me."

He smirked and rolled his eyes but did as you asked, pulling out of you and earning a huff from you both.

Joel didn't love the idea of not being able to give you what you needed. He didn't want you to work for anything. He wanted to take care of you as much as you wanted to take care of him. But when you straddled his lap and positioned yourself to sink down on his cock, the sight alone made him forget all about the somewhat humiliating disturbance because you looked so goddamn gorgeous fucking yourself on top of him.

"Oh, shit, honey, look at you," he sighed. You whimpered, fingers digging into his chest for leverage as you bounced up and down on his lap. His hands found your waist, helping you move and steady yourself as you chased your high. "Yeah, that's it. Take what you want. Take it," he said through clenched teeth. Your breasts bounced and swayed, taunting him just out reach, but the visual made him pulse inside you, already dangerously close to his climax.

"Fuck, you're so deep," you moaned. Joel's eyes slid shut, trying his best to stave off his orgasm. He racked his brain to remember what made you fall apart for him before, but he could hardly think straight. The tension was pulling tight in his stomach each time to dropped yourself down on his cock. His skin tingled hearing every breathy moan tumble from your lips, all because of him.

And it was all too much.

"Touch yourself," he grunted, fingers digging harder into your waist. "C'mon, baby, touch yourself f'me. Can't -" He groaned when you started to roll your hips, your soaked cunt gripping him beautifully. "Can't last much longer," he finally was able to say.

You did as you were told, two fingers pressing desperately against your clit as you continued to ride him. Your face was slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head once you found a rhythm you liked. You looked absolutely breathtaking like that, spread out and full of him with your face contorted in pleasure. He had never seen you like that before. It was filthy and raw and desperate.

"Goddamnit," Joel growled, lifting his hips to match your pace. Each time he buried himself deep inside you, he let out a harsh grunt. The intensity and desperation was sending you both quickly over the edge. "I'm gonna come, darlin', 'm sorry," he murmured.

"Please," you begged, fingers working fast over your clit. You inhaled sharply and your movements stuttered. "Please come for me, Joel," you whispered with your eyes closed.

When he felt that familiar heat licking its way up his spine, he went to pull you off his lap, but your thighs clenched around him, keeping you in place.

"It- it's o-okay," you stammered. He had no time to ask you to elaborate. With a loud groan he finally let go, pumping you full of his spend. His orgasm was so intense, he swore his vision blacked out for a second. He blinked rapidly until you appeared before him again, just in time to watch you come on his cock with a strangled moan.

"That's it," he cooed, fighting for air like he had just run a fucking marathon. Your eyebrows pinched together and your mouth hung open as you ground down on his lap, riding out your high. When your cunt clenched around him, he felt one last burst of release paint your walls, the sheer force from the last several minutes making him lightheaded.

Your arms began to shake and a moment later, you collapsed onto his chest, nuzzling your face into his neck with a contented sigh. He could feel your heart racing with his while you held each other, gasping for air until you each calmed down and your breathing returned to normal.

"I got a, uh," you began, breaking the silence with your hoarse voice. You pointed weakly towards your stomach. "A- a thing. An implant."

"Oh," he whispered, "good. Okay."

His arms wrapped around your middle, pressing you against his sweaty chest. He buried his nose in your hair, breathing in deep while you planted lazy kisses against his collarbone. He was still inside you but he could feel himself beginning to finally soften, so he gently rolled you onto your side while simultaneously slipping out of your clutch with a hiss.

He couldn't help himself. He glanced down and spotted the pearly trail of his seed leaking from between your legs and it sparked something inside of him.

"I made a mess of you, sweetheart," he murmured, voice gravelly with desire as he continued to stare. You followed his gaze down and grinned.

"Guess we're both dirty now," you teased. He chuckled and rolled on top of you, lips latching onto your throat. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this needy. High school? Maybe in his very early twenties? All he knew was he wanted you in every way imaginable. He felt like a man on the verge of death in the middle of the desert who stumbled across an oasis.

"Joel," you moaned when his hand dropped to cup your breast and his cock, by some goddamn miracle, began to slowly stiffen once again.

"Hmm?"

"I - I need a break," you admitted sheepishly, fingers combing gently through his hair. "And maybe a shower."

He grinned and stopped running the pad of his thumb over your nipple so he could lean up on his elbows to look at you.

"Want some company with that shower?"

You giggled and nodded. "But nothing funny! This is a business shower, okay?"

"Business shower?" he repeated with his dark eyes sparkling. He was so happy he could burst.

"Yes. A business shower. Nothing ... sexy," you said with a wave of your hand. You gave his shoulder a shove and he rolled off you long enough for you to wiggle out from underneath him, heading in the direction of your bathroom. His eyes immediately locked on your naked body and he flung himself out of bed, back pain long forgotten.

"Ain't possible to not have a sexy shower if you're in there," he joked as he followed you. You glanced at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

"Smooth."

You only made it ten minutes into your business shower before you caved. But with your front pressed against the cool tile wall and Joel's cock sliding effortlessly back inside you, you were having trouble remembering why you ever cared in the first place.

"You look a lot happier than the last time I saw you," Ryan said when you sat down on the soft leather couch across from him. You smiled and placed your purse next to you.

"A lot's changed since then."

"Yeah? Let's hear it," he urged, clicking his pen and scribbling something at the top of his legal pad.

"Well, for starters I'm not moving."

He grinned. "That's fantastic news. What's changed?"

You felt your cheeks warm up when you said, "I worked things out with that guy I was seeing."

"Wonderful! And you mentioned his... daughter, I believe? Had an issue with her father dating?" Ryan questioned while writing some notes on the paper.

"She surprised me and stopped by my house. She apologized for what happened and insisted she wants her dad to be happy," you explained, still finding it difficult to believe just two weeks later. "But I am going to sell my house. I need to move somewhere new. Some place that's all mine. I keep seeing Daniel everywhere I turn and I think it's been making it difficult to move on."

Ryan raised his eyebrows and set down his pen. "Good for you. That shows incredible growth and promise to be able to recognize when something is holding you back. That decision couldn't have been easy, either. You should be proud of yourself," he said warmly, making you smile.

"It wasn't easy, you're right. But it's for the best. My... boyfriend, I guess?" you said, the word sounding strange on your tongue. "Sorry. I'm not used to that. He's in construction and knows some people. It's an old house. Daniel and I put a lot of work into it and it would break my heart if it fell into the wrong hands. Joel - sorry, Joel's my boyfriend," you said, shifting your weight on the couch. "He's going to ask around and see if anyone he trusts can find a buyer for the house."

"It sounds like Joel is a great guy."

You smiled and nodded excitedly. "We met at group, actually."

Ryan's face broke out into a huge grin and he clapped his hands together. "What a beautiful coincidence. Two people with the same wound meeting and working to heal one another. That's so powerful," he said before picking his pen back up.

"It's still early but... it feels right. It's a lot easier than I thought it would be," you admitted.

"Easy in what way?"

You pursed your lips and began to fiddle with your bracelet.

"Easy in that I didn't feel... guilty when we, you know..." you trailed off, praying Ryan didn't make you finish your sentence.

"When you were intimate together?" he offered, putting a pretty little bow on the filthy things you and Joel had been doing for the past couple weeks.

"Yes."

You paused and cleared your throat before forcing yourself to meet Ryan's eye.

"I thought I would compare them, or, like, I don't know," you rambled nervously, "maybe I wouldn't like it because it wasn't what I was used to or something."

"And you didn't?"

You shook your head, feeling the tip of your nose sting when tears began to crop up in your eyes.

"And I thought... I always thought it would feel like a betrayal. Like I was cheating on Daniel. But it didn't," you said, blinking away your tears.

"And it shouldn't," Ryan said gently, setting his pen back down to give you his full attention. "I didn't know Daniel but I'm sure he wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life alone and unhappy."

"No, he wouldn't," you agreed, then smiled to yourself when you added, "I think he would have really liked Joel."

"I'll bet he would, too," Ryan said. He flipped open another page on his legal pad and read something before asking, "And how are the legal issues going?"

Your face fell a little bit and you shrugged.

"My lawyer thinks he'll have things wrapped up soon but it just breaks my heart that it came to this. They were always so kind to me when Daniel was alive, I never expected them to be so... selfish and cruel."

"Not to make excuses for them, but people process trauma and grief in very different ways. Unfortunately, it can bring out the worst in people, but perhaps with time, you'll be able to mend that relationship if that was something you wished to do," Ryan said with a sympathetic smile.

You nodded silently and fiddled with the zipper on your purse. Ryan had gotten used to the way you processed information after only two sessions and knew you were ruminating, so he patiently gave you the time you needed to collect your thoughts.

"My parents were upset when I told them I wasn't moving back to Portland."

Ryan remained quiet, giving you the space you needed to speak.

"They think I'm crazy for 'shacking up' with a guy who is old enough to have gone to school with my dad," you explained. "Said I'm making a big mistake and I'm emotionally distraught."

Ryan's eyebrows pinched together. "Do you think you're emotionally distraught?"

"No," you replied. "I'm the best I've felt since Daniel passed away."

"And Joel? Is he in a good place for a relationship?"

"I think so," you sighed. "He lost his wife ten years ago. He's had more time to process his grief but this is the first relationship he's had since she passed, same as me."

"Well then, sounds to me like you are both doing just fine," he said warmly. "Parents always tend to think they know what's best for their children, no matter how old they are. And I'm sure their hearts are in the right place. But they don't see you every day, do they? They don't witness the progress and growth you've made. They certainly don't see how happy you are together. Perhaps with time, they will accept your decisions, but for now I think it's best to reinforce your boundaries and remind them of how well you are doing if the topic gets brought up again."

"Thanks. It's just tough to hear sometimes," you said solemnly. You pursed your lips together and tried not to dwell too much on your mother's negative reaction to your news, the wound still too fresh, but it ultimately only made you happier that you found Joel. He was such a strong and supportive presence in your life, despite the chaos, and you were always so grateful for him.

"Alright, let's switch gears," Ryan suggested when he sensed your sullen mood. "Where are you looking to move? Is the plan to move in with Joel?"

You laughed and shook your head. "That's a little too soon, I think," you said. "I'm looking to rent a small house. I found a few not too far from his neighborhood, though. We're going to check them out together this weekend."

"That's great," Ryan said as he scribbled down a few more notes. "And the job hunt? Last we spoke, you mentioned you had been looking for work but weren't getting much traction."

"Yeah, that hasn't been going great. But I've been toying with this idea, and I know it sounds crazy-"

Ryan laughed. "I'm sure it's not."

"Well... Joel and I were talking. He asked me what I really liked to do and what my dream job would be, and the first thing I thought of was cooking. I absolutely love cooking and baking."

"So you want to open a restaurant?" he guessed.

"No, not quite. Actually, I was thinking of a food truck."

You braced yourself for Ryan's strong opinion, expecting him to tell you it was a terrible idea and that the profits would be minimal, but instead he just smiled wide and sat back in his chair.

"I think that's a wonderful idea."

"Really?" you asked, eyes sparkling. He nodded.

"I think it suits you very well. And it sounds like fun. I say if you have the means and motivation, do it. Hell, I'll be your first customer."

You laughed, feeling your chest lighten a bit when you received his approval. You had been so used to your family or Daniel's judging every little decision you made that it came as a great relief to hear someone besides Joel be so supportive.

"Well, it's just a baby of an idea. Maybe once the legal stuff is settled and don't have to worry about that anymore, I'll look into it more seriously."

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Ryan said before standing up. You glanced at the clock, surprised your hour was already up, and began to collect your things. Admittedly when you started therapy, you weren't sure how much you would get out of it. But in the two short sessions you had with Ryan, you realized how nice it was to have a neutral third party shed some light on your problems without feeling judged.

"Same time next week?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Hoping you'll come back with some good news about a house."

"Me, too," you said with a smile. Ryan walked you back out to the lobby and wished you a good rest of the day. You gave him a quick wave before stepping back outside and took a deep, calming breath.

The seasons were beginning to change, you could smell it. The air wasn't as humid and the breeze was just a little sharper.

You welcomed it, hopeful that the shift into autumn would usher in a new and exciting chapter of your life.

A/N: apologies if I've used the term 'business shower' before. I feel like I have in other fics but I can't be sure.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[eunandonly]

୨୧ — ANALYSING: ATTRACTION !

୨୧ ; everyone knows lee heeseung- he's the super cute psychology major! how did you find yourself holding hands with him? pairing! psychologymajor!heeseung x psychologymajor!reader | wc. 0.8k | warnings: failed attempt at humour, probably cringe EN-

🖇 : this will be a full series for all enhypen members!

everyone has noticed lee heeseung in the psychology lecture hall, even you.

he's always sitting at the middle of the hall, furiously taking notes

this man explains freud's theories in a way that makes the professor pause and ask for his name

he's such a dork omg you sometimes see him doodling little brain diagrams on the margin of his notebooks with little text bubbles and smiley faces — more under cut!

you can't help but sneak glances at him like HE'S SO HOT

who wouldn't want to stare at lee heeseung rather than the mid fifties dude who can't seem to stfu

ok well heeseung's been eyeing you too because well DAMN you're face card is crazyyyy

and you're also really smart ACADEMIC WEAPON

so one day you two got grouped together for some kind of psychology project and you're just trying your best not to freak out

you've liked this guy since your freshman year of uni ever since you saw him at that shitty university party wdym you got paired up with him

luck is on your side this term (or is it fate?)

heeseung is so shy you're just too pretty for him to handle but he's still the first one to initiate conversation between you two

just walks up to you with his little notebook and pen in the lecture hall "so what are your ideas for the project?"

you don't even reply you just spend a moment or two taking in the godly sight in front of you and he just stands there like 🧍

it's so awkward for a moment but you finally start talking after blessing your eyes with lee heeseung's face

you two hit it off on the spot (you two are both nerds- cute nerds, mind you.)

you two spend a whole hour just discussing interesting psychology experiments before deciding you guys have to focus

“we really need to lock in."

"yeah we really should."

you guys move on from the stanford prison experiment to cognitive neuroscience

tbh you're really impressed with the amount of knowledge heeseung has on psychology

i mean sure it's his major but statistics show that over 54% of university students aren't happy with the classes they take

not heeseung he loves his little psychology life especially now that you're his project partner

this man is in the clouds he feels like he can fly

he keeps complimenting your psychology knowledge and you just brush him off

because heeseung's the one who just explained the flipping hippocampus like it's a ted talk.

poor boy is trying so hard to focus but he's kind of distracted bc he's busy stealing glances at you

he keeps stuttering whenever you ask him something

“oh, umm"

it's kind of giving loser but he's a cute loser ykyk

you pretend not to notice how he trips over his words and goes red in the face to protect his dignity and pride but you're dying inside as well

lee heeseung. stuttering over you.

SKJFGJDKK

you and heeseung meet up everyday to do your project together

most of the time you guys meet at the library or a cafe but sometimes he invites you to his dorm

i imagine his dorm to be like his room in enhypen's dorm

like it's spacious and clean and all that

but boy why's there a huge gaping empty space in the middle of the room

well that gaping empty space is useful to spread out the 2838484 notes heeseung has written on neuroscience

you two always seem to reach for the same paper at the same moment HMMMMM

everytime you touch in anyway you feel like you're about to pass out like OH LEE HEESEUNG'S FINGER JUST BRUSHED AGAINST YOURS

heeseung gets sooo flustered he feels the same way about you

he's so busy staring at you when you're not looking bc you're js so goddamn perfect

after the group project you and heeseung submit the most scrumptious project ever

you both get straight As the thesis you guys wrote together was so sexylicious oml

you're kind of sad when the project is all over bc what if you and heeseung go back to not speaking and just acknowledging e/o's presence with a smile and a nod.

well you have nothing to worry about because he confesses after a week of 'accidental touches' and stolen glances

this guy, he gives you a little peck on the cheek and both of yall blushing like crazyy

heeseung definetly blurts out random psychology facts about love bc he's a little geek

he says psychology pick up lines as well

"are you a serotonin boost? because just being around you brightens my mood" bitch what.

✉️: @icyy-hoon taglist is open!

[mikomikumi]

Guys I was on the plane and got bored. I wrote y’all some milkman smut~

Plz enjoy

Francis mosses x reader SMUT

Warnings; Penetration (PinV), orgasm denial, dom! Francis. sub! Reader. afab! Reader.

————————————————————————

This day couldn’t be any more boring than it already is. The Doorman is slumped in their seat, bored out of their mind.

They heard footsteps coming up to the window. It appears to be Francis Mosses. “Mmm, hello”. The usual greeting. Nothing seems off. “ID and Entry card please?”, asks the Doorman. Francis slips the paper under.

Appearance? Normal

Description? On point.

ID? One number is off.

“Hmm, your ID doesn’t fully match the correct one we have here.” The doppelgänger that stood in front of him started to panic. “I-I think you just need to re-read it. That’s m-my ID.” Unusual, he never speaks this much. “I saw your roommate Y/N come home earlier. Let me just give your room a call”. The doorman grabs the rotary phone and rings up Francis’s room, in hopes either you or the real Francis would answer.

The day was about to get just a little less boring.

————————————————————————

“Ngh~ fuck, so tight~” Francis moaned. The second you had come home from the bakery, Francis snuck up behind you and tried to strip you. He had been so horny all day. His one day off and you had to go to work. The milkman needed to give someone his milk~

“Take it, Y/N. Please~ Let me fill you with my milk~ Francis moaned and begged. He pounded your pussy like it was his last day on earth. He had filled you with cream about 3 times already. Yet his cock stayed hard, throbbing for more. He gripped your plush thigh, with the other hand on your chin. Francis's tongue fucked your mouth with passion. “Mmh~ good girl”.

Your tight little cunt didn’t mind. Your legs stayed open and welcome for each thrust of his hips, for each slap of his balls against your ass. You loved him. The way he fucked you gave you life. “Francis~”, you moaned his name for the hundredth time that day. You rubbed your clit as you were on the edge of another climax. It drove his cock wild. It throbbed as he was about to cum again-

“Ring ring!” The rotary phone on the bedside locker buzzed. You reached your hand over to it when all of a sudden it was pinned to the bed. “Don’t, we’re busy”. Francis demanded, getting ready to thrust inside you again. “Francis, if they let a doppelgänger in, the building is dead!” You argued. This annoyed the milkman. He let go of your wrist. “Mmm…Fine, but make it quick. I still have more cum to pump you full with”.

Your body turns away from the milkman. His cock leaves your hole as you pick up the phone. Francis, despite the orgasm denial, had an idea. He wasn’t a huge fan of that doorman, always looking at his Y/N. Maybe he could put him in their place.

“Hello? Ah hi there Mx. Doorma-ah!”. The milkman cheekily slapped your thigh, and your body shivered. “S-sorry. Yes I’m in my apartment. My roomma-”. Francis was sick of you calling him his ‘roommate’ instead of boyfriend. The only reason you did was that it was muscle memory. Francis grabbed the phone from your hand. He used his other hand to pin you down and he started thrusting himself back into you. You let out a scream, which you quickly muffled with your hand along with the other moans.

“Mmm…yes. I’m in my apartment with Y/N”. The clapping of skin could be heard in the background. “Is that all?” The milkman asked. He pounded into you faster, as payback for not letting him finish earlier. “…yes…”. The doorman eventually answered. Francis almost threw the phone back down into its place before gripping both your thighs tight. “Now, you owe me”. He shows no mercy, holds your thighs up and full-on pounds your pussy in.

“You’re…you’re gonna take my cum inside again?…right Y/N?…you’re gonna be a good girl and cum on this cock…?”. You know it’s not a question. It’s a demand.

“Yes Francis….fuuuck~”. Your eyes roll to the back of your head while you release yourself for the 4th time today. Your body sinks into the cum-soaked sheets as you let your boyfriend take over.

“Cumming…fucking…take it” he lets out a massive groan, this cock throbs and twitches as white ropes spew into your cunt. “Yeah…good girl”. Francis slowly continued to thrust, helping ride out his and your orgasm. He almost collapses on top of you when he finishes. He lies on your chest, his cock still buried deep in your womb as he snuggles.

“Always a cuddle bug after sex” You stroked his head and placed a kiss on his forehead. Francis is now completely drained. His baggy eyes stare into yours. “So…tired…”…the milkman mumbles, drifting into a deep slumber. You decide to join him, closing your eyes. You couldn’t ask for a better way to sleep other than having your boyfriend in your arms.

————————————————————————

The Doorman stares at the phone in mortified awe after the real Francis hangs up. They turn to look at the doppelgänger, who is now sweating profusely. “Sorry buddy, you ain’t coming in”. The doorman lifts the clear cover of the red button and pushes it.

[leighsartworks216]

Nyctophobia

Sylus x gn!Reader

I still have to sleep with some sort of light on at night and I was like well what would Sylus think about this. And now here we are

Warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, kissing, nyctophobia (fear of the dark), embarrassment, fear, pet names, swearing, implied sexual content, established relationship

Word Count: 2,153

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You feel so fucking stupid. Not because you did something wrong or made a fool of yourself (yet), but because this dumb problem you had was so childish. Even a 10-year-old is braver than you, a literal fucking Hunter!

You pout at the nightlight on your laptop. Sylus’s black card sat on your coffee table, just waiting to be used. And yet, the thought of using a card with access to millions of dollars (perhaps billions), just to buy a nightlight, halted you in your tracks, He hadn’t even said much about anything else you’ve bought before, and what he did say usually encouraged you to buy more expensive, lavish things. Surely, he wouldn’t flinch at this at all.

But that stupid, unrelenting voice in your head made buying the light impossible.

Which sucked.

It really, really sucked.

‘Cuz every time you stay in the N109 Zone in Sylus’s manor-slash-base, your room is so dark. Being in the lawless area doesn’t help, either. All the violence and danger you’d seen walking in the streets at night painted visions of stalkers in the corner, murderers with knives under your bed, and worse, just waiting for you to close your eyes and sleep.

But you don’t want to impose on the nice atmosphere Sylus has cultivated in his home. So you sleep with the light off, clinging to your blankets and telling yourself over and over again that nobody else is in the room.

Your phone buzzing interrupts your pity party. You shut your laptop and place it on the table next to the card. It buzzes again as you pick it up.

What’s wrong, sweetie?

I’ve only seen you make that face when a plushie falls out of the claw

You look up at your window. Sure enough, Mephisto’s red eyes greet you.

Stop spying on me >:(

Fine

The mechanical crow disappears from sight. You can just barely hear his caws as he flies off back to the N109 Zone.

But my question still stands

It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it

Sweetie, if someone says not to worry about something, people are going to worry about it

Damn him for giving you a chance to tell the truth. And damn your brain for reminding you that if you tell him the truth, he’d probably laugh at you. What does he have to worry about when he sleeps anyway? He’s already a light sleeper, but he also sleeps during the day, when creeps skitter from shadow to shadow. He wouldn’t understand.

Like I said, it’s nothing

Nothing happens for a few moments. The little dots to signify he’s typing don’t even show up. You can’t help wondering what he’s doing. What he’s thinking.

Maybe he’s getting ready to start the night, getting into his car so Luke and Kieran can drive him around to his many business dealings. Or maybe he’s picking out a vinyl from his shelf, taking it from the paper casing with a delicacy only shared with you, and setting it up on his phonograph. Or maybe he’s mimicking you: sitting on the couch, staring at the phone, wondering what to say next.

The dots appear, finally.

Come to the N109 Zone, kitten

Let me cheer you up

If Mephisto was still lurking around, he’d have seen just how fast you packed your things and hopped onto your bike.

Yes, the N109 Zone is dark and scary and extremely dangerous at the best of times. Yes, you’d be forced to sleep in the dark once again. Yes, your mind would play tricks on you and you’d probably stay up all night anyway.

But Sylus is there. And you haven’t seen him for almost a week. Who could blame you for jumping at the opportunity to spend time with him now?

-

Sylus greets you at the door with an amused smirk. “You got here fast.”

You playfully glare at him, smacking his chest as you pass by. “There wasn’t any traffic,” you tease.

The manor is as dark as usual. If it’s not black, it’s dark red. If it’s not dark red, it’s the occasional white furniture or golden accent.

Sylus trails behind you as you beeline it straight to your room to drop off your stuff. He leans in the doorway as you toss your bag onto the plush bed. “You seem to be in a better mood now,” he hums.

“I always feel better when I get to see you.” You smile up at him. It’s a soft remark. Genuine. Not the usual joking, back-and-forth banter you’re usually all too happy to supply during your visits.

His expression melts into something just as tender. Just as honest. He casually pushes himself off the doorframe and crosses the few steps it takes to get to you. His hands cradle you like one of his precious antiques, tilting your face up while he cranes his neck until the world has shrunk to just this moment.

He grins. His eyes keep glancing down at your mouth. You grab onto his waist. Your fingers curl into his soft red sweater, desperate to keep him this close. His lips brush against yours, stealing the air from your lungs.

“Then let me make it worth your while.”

-

It’s still dark when you wake up. The navy blue behind the curtain carries no hint of light, reassuring your sleep-addled brain that there is still plenty of time before day.

You roll over, silk sheets caressing your bare form, fully intending to go right back to sleep. Cold air slips underneath the blanket. You shiver and pull it tighter around you. Without thinking, you reach out toward the other side of the bed. It’s too large for just one person. The bed is cold beneath your fingers, even as you reach out farther.

You blink open your eyes, blearily staring into the darkness, searching for some answer you can quite grasp yet.

What are you reaching for…?

You turn your face into your pillow, determined to ignore that strange feeling in your gut and enjoy the last hours of the night. The rich scent of bourbon and vanilla catch on the edge of your senses. It smells just like Sylus…

You open your eyes again. Where’s Sylus?

Your fingertips brush the edge of the bed as you reach out. A discordant chord of terror strikes in your heart as you quickly pull your hand back. Thoughts of something reaching out to grab you flood your mind. Your heart races, chasing off the last ounces of sleepiness from your body.

You pull the blanket even tighter around you, curling it under your feet and tucking it into your sides until you’re in a cocoon of safety. No matter how hard you strain your eyes, you can’t see anything. But in your mind, everything can see you.

You curl up into a pitiful ball.

You could get up, but you can’t. What if something grabs your ankles?

You could grab your phone, but you can’t. What if something is waiting in ambush and your phone is the bait?

You could do a thousand things to get out of this darkness. But you can’t, for a million reasons.

The door knob slowly turns. The only indication the door has opened at all is the sound of the lower edge brushing against the carpeted floor. No light comes in from the hall. It’s all pitch black. The door clicks shut.

You hold your breath.

Footsteps. Large, heavy footsteps. They don’t stomp. You’re not sure if it would be better if they did. They creep around the side of the bed.

You don’t move.

Weight shifts the mattress. Slowly. Deliberately.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You strain to hear anything else.

Something slides over your blankets.

You squeeze your eyes shut so tight you see spots. You bite your lip to avoid making sound.

The something - a hand, you think - wraps around your waist.

You flinch.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. They’re gonna know you’re awake. They’re gonna cover your mouth or stab you or put a pillow over your face or-

“Kitten?”

Your body shudders as you finally let yourself breathe. You grab your pillow as you quickly sit up and swing it at the face of your lover.

“I thought you were gonna fucking kill me?!”

Sylus laughs, chucking the pillow back onto your side of the bed. You can’t see him in the dark, but your body can’t stop taking in every ounce of him that it can. His smell - the bourbon and vanilla tinged with a natural musk. His voice - that rich, lively sound of his laugh and the breaths he takes. His touch - his hand, trailing patterns over the blanket at your hip.

You crawl toward him, clinging to his chest like a koala. He’s still shirtless from your escapades. His hand slides to your back, pulling you in tighter to him. You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. You press your ear against him to hear more.

“Why would you think that?” he asks once he’s gathered himself.

You don’t answer. You squeeze him tighter.

“Sweetie?” The amusement is replaced with concern. His other arm wraps around you. The muscles tense with the slightest effort. He says your name.

Relief settles heavy in your bones. Tears prick at your eyes, while you remain utterly powerless to stop them. “It’s too dark,” you whimper. It’s all you can think to say.

His arms tighten around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him like you weigh nothing. He begins playing with your hair. “Does it scare you?” he asks softly.

You nod. You pull one of your hands out from around him to wipe the tears off your face and his chest.

God, you feel so fucking pathetic.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You don’t answer. His chest rises and falls with you on it, moving with his sigh. He pulls your hand away from your face and replaces it around him. You want to fight it. Complain about how gross it is to get all your tears on him. But he shushes you gently and you can’t find the strength to try.

“Do you want to go downstairs?”

You nod again.

The world shifts as he sits up with you. He pries you off of him so he can stand up, but he doesn’t go far. He grabs his sweater off the ground and helps you put it on. Then he goes through your dresser for some clean underwear. He helps you stand and slides them on. You don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to see the darkness. So you hold onto his shoulders. You put all your trust into him, and he refuses to betray it.

He lifts you into his arms like you’re a damn princess. Usually, he’d throw you over his shoulder, but not this time. This time he’s careful, treating you with the utmost care as he carries you down the stairs and to the living room. With a wave of his fingers, the lights turn on, black and red left in its wake.

“It’s not dark anymore,” he promises as he sits down. You keep your face safely tucked into his neck. He rests his cheek on your head. His fingers go back to your hair. His other hand rubs patterns against your bare thigh.

After a while, your terror finally dissipates completely. You can see the light shining through your closed eyelids. Feel its subtle warmth against your skin. When you find the strength to open your eyes, the warm, comfortable ambiance of Sylus’s home greets you once more.

You use the sleeve of his sweater to wipe at your face. “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks. You cringe with embarrassment. “It’s stupid, I know.”

He hums noncommittally. “Is this what you were telling me not to worry about?” he asks instead.

You nod. “I was looking at… at nightlights,” you admit in a murmur.

“What kind?”

“Hm?” You pull back to look up at him. He lets you, meeting your gaze with a soft seriousness. “What d’you mean?”

He smirks slightly, eyebrow quirking upward. “I mean, what kind of nightlight would you like, sweetie? Fairy lights, a wall light, one of those animal-shaped ones that glows…”

You frown and look away. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“I’m asking,” he cups your cheek and guides your face to look at him, “so I can buy you one. Now, will you tell me, or do I have to buy every single nightlight on the market?”

You laugh despite yourself. “I have it pulled up on my laptop…”

He grins. “Good.” He pulls you into a chaste kiss. “Don’t hesitate to buy it next time. Or to tell me what’s wrong. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a sad kitten.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 2

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: couldn't still believe that this ff blew up like tysm for all of your support! and thank you so much for waiting~ and like always, this is not proofread lol

previous / masterlist / next

“if i'm not mistaken, the mission would take at least three to four business days.” yaga passes satoru a sheet of paper where it contains all of the information he needed to know and what kind of things he should focus on investigating.

satoru looked at his former teacher in uncertainty despite the blindfold in his eyes. he's very hesitant to take the mission not because he cannot beat this curse, but because he still needs to apologize to you as soon as possible.

“yaga, c—can i not…” satoru was about to continue when he suddenly trailed off.

“not what?” yaga raises his eyebrow.

but to think that it's all his fault, he must have really hurted you this time, and you wouldn't probably hear him out that easily. that is why satoru thinks that it is best to just give you some space as of now, and when he comes back from his mission, that is the time when he would bother you with his presence.

“it's nothing. i’ll be taking my leave now.”

“very well—” before yaga could even finish his sentence, satoru already vanished in thin air.

the duo, yuuji and megumi, was on their way to visit you just like what they had promised to themselves a while ago.

it was around eight o'clock in the evening and here they are, kind of tiptoeing through the hallway where your room is located.

“i think it's better to let her know our presence first.” megumi said quietly to the pink haired male while holding out a basket with foods that are suitable for digestion of a pregnant lady.

“then it wouldn't be a surprise if we told her.” yuuji then answered. he was carrying two board games on his left arm and a uno card on his right hand. you actually once told them that you were exceptionally good at these kinds of games, so yuuji wanted to test that out.

suddenly, the two boys stopped in front of a door where they immediately froze at the smell of something oddly familiar. “me…megumi, is this y/n sensei’s room?” yuuji slowly mumbles out a word, his eyes going wide.

however, megumi didn't answer him. instead, he immediately tries to open the door without any hesitation just to know that it is locked.

panic slashed across their faces as the smell of blood coming out of your room becomes the leading factor of their franticness behavior.

“y/n sensei! are you there?!” yuuji keeps on calling out to you while megumi does the door breaking.

“it's locked! i can’t break the door!” curse these doors in jujutsu high. megumi could not help but to mumble profanities when he remembered that the doors in jujutsu high are purposely made this strong so any invading curses could not sneak in especially during sleeping hours where most of the sorcerers are vulnerable.

“itadori! call yaga sensei and shoko-san, quick!” megumi screamed at the other boy, whom he instantly obliged.

a weave of panic surge on their bodies because you are involved in this situation. not to mention, you are pregnant on top of that and that puts the situation into a more nerve-wracking experience.

sweat drips on megumi’s forehead as he still tries to break the door. kicks and punches were made but still the door wouldn't flinch his attacks. the idea of using his curse technique came into his mind but he's afraid that it would worsen the situation.

sooner and faster, yuuji came back with the two elders running faster than before. both also have a panic flash on their faces as yaga begins to break the door with his insane force. and after countless tries, he successfully invades the door.

everybody froze at the sight, because there they saw you, lying unconsciously in a pool of your blood that trickled down on your lower body.

“shit! what happened?!” shoko was the first to react and immediately came closer to you to check your pulse, it was there but weak. then shoko proceeds to check your baby's heartbeat, and to her disappointment, there was none that she could detect.

“yaga sensei, please help me get y/n to my clinic. now!” without a further do, yaga carefully lifted up your body and then proceeded to follow the frantic shoko to her said clinic.

on the other hand, yuuji and megumi watch the two elders quickly move away from the scene and that leaves the two. they had been quiet all the time, probably still traumatized because they just saw one of their teachers (plus with an unborn child) on the literal verge of dying.

megumi's eyes trailed on the pool of blood that had been sitting on your floor. he could tell that you had been unconscious for like way past an hour now due to some parts of the blood being fresh while some parts were dried.

“what the hell just happened…?” yuuji was still flabbergasted. he would never expect that this would happen when he just visualizes this night as a fun one because he got everything ready for a surprise mini party to cheer you up.

“i don't know.” megumi solemnly answered.

“...do you think y/n sensei and her baby would be alright?” yuuji added, totally worried about your situation.

for the first time in his life, megumi didn't think he that would utter the same word but with a different tone, different meaning, and in a different situation.

“i…i don't know.”

satoru gojo was busy walking through the busy street of roppongi despite the sky being nighttime. the whole atmosphere was still so lively from bright signage up to crowded night market stalls. this makes a perfect night for a perfect leisure.

but satoru isn't here to do that. he was supposed to do a job and finish it as soon as possible so he could get back to you and finally do the right thing.

he was about to enter an abandoned building when he received a phone call. without looking at the caller, he answered.

“what?”

“where are you?” it was his corporate friend, nanami.

a teasing smile made it into his demeanor. “oh wow! here is my underclassmen calling me first—!”

“i am asking you, where are you?” nanami was clearly not in the mood for his bullshit. his tone was beyond serious and it made satoru wonder if something happened.

“i'm in roppongi. somewhere behind a luxurious night bar.” gojo said.

the moment he said his address, the phone suddenly dropped. confused, the six eyes looked at his phone then just shrugged it off. for the second time, he was about to enter the said building when someone appeared from behind.

“you should go back.” there he saw nanami, breathless as he tried to catch his breath. looks like he ran his way towards his location.

“yo, my man! what are you doing he—”

“go back to the jujutsu high. i’ll be taking your mission here.” nanami explained like he was .

did something happen? was on satoru's mind.

“why?” satoru dropped all of his mischievousness as it was replaced by his unhidden worry—you were literally there at the jujutsu high.

there was a pause on nanami, he seemed very hesitant to say it and satoru was growing impatient.

“just say it nanami—”

“yaga asked me to take your mission on your behalf after something happened. it's about your wife. she was found unconscious in her room.”

never ever in his life he could feel the quickest adrenaline rush in his body as nanami didn't even manage to utter the last syllables of his sentence when satoru already uses his technique and teleports himself towards your room back in jujutsu high.

and there, he was welcomed by the janitors of the said school, mopping the dried liquid on the floor. the smell was so familiar that it made his body tremble in a span of a second.

“w-what the fuck happened here?” he asked the janitor who looked at him in pity as he continued to solemnly wipe the floor.

“miss y/n was found unconscious and there was blood…in her lower area.”

blood, y/n, unconscious, my wife, danger, the baby…my baby!

that was the only thing that came into his mind as he went out of the hallway and ran somewhere he wasn't aware of. his mind raced with negative thoughts.

and since his life is not always about sugarcoating—he thought that probably you just had a miscarriage, got attacked by some curses, or worse, you're dead. his wife, you, were hurt when he was away and not even there to at least protect you.

unbeknownst, to the man, tears were threatening to slip down his six eyes, making his blindfold become wet as it was being absorbed by his tears constantly. satoru could feel that his body was filled with self-loathing, guilt, and regret all over his system.

“satoru.” a voice called him from behind. satoru does not need to turn around to know who it was. it was yaga.

“come to my office.” without waiting for him, yaga already left with satoru trailing behind him. taking off his blindfold, satoru wiped the tears that were about to fall.

when they arrived at yaga’s office, he saw his two students, yuuji and megumi, sitting quietly by the couch. they were both acting quietly odd, like they knew what was going on too.

“where's y/n?” satoru asked.

“do you want to know what happened first?” yaga avoided his question for now. instead, he goes into the other aspect that he's been wondering too. satoru fell quiet, so yaga took it as a yes.

the principal looked at the two students who were already looking at him. sighing deeply, yaga then proceeds to start explaining.

“y/n was found unconscious by these two. it has been over an hour since she's been in that situation judging by the dryness of her blood. right now, we still had no idea about her state since shoko's the one who's been handling the situation. and it's been a while too since we have seen her.”

“and the baby…i'm sorry, gojo. but we have no idea either.” yaga sighed heavily. satoru was all silent, he couldn't bring himself to utter any word. he was too caught up about the situation that he had so many things to say to the point that he couldn't figure out where to start.

“i know it's not my business to interfere but…did something happen that leads to this?” the principal asked the strongest. the next moment was something that everyone expected—they did not receive any response from the man.

suddenly, the door burst open, revealing the tired doctor. her eyes landed on your husband who's still frozen about your condition. on the other hand, satoru was too busy drowning himself with his thoughts to notice shoko in the room.

“itadori, megumi…go back to your dorm for now. it's getting late and i’ll just update you two tomorrow.” shoko scurry the two younger boys and they obliged.

as the door in yaga's office closed, the three grown-ups fell into a silent atmosphere, only the sound of the air ventilation could be heard inside.

“h-how’s y/n and the child?” yaga was the first one to speak among the three. but shoko's attention was drawn to gojo only and gojo was still unable to move.

“her situation was so severe that we needed to put her into a hospital as soon as possible.” shoko said quietly and directed to gojo only. her eyes were trailed to him, and only him. she wants him to taste the bitter medicine of his aftermath and she is going to make sure he's taking it.

call her brutal and cruel, but in your realm of marriage where her role is only being a worried close friend, she would choose you over everything. that's how much she cares for you. shoko could see what kind of person you are, and she believes that you deserve better than what you are right now.

sure, gojo was right when he said that she'd only known you for a short period of time. but that is enough for her to determine that she is going to stick by your side whatever may happen. because she knows how a gojo satoru works, she knows what kind of person he could be.

if gojo can manage to leave shoko out in his life, then he could do it to y/n too.

“she was bleeding too much, i'm afraid it has to do with the child. so if we don't act fast, we might have to choose who to save—are we going to save y/n and lose the baby? are we going to save the baby and lose y/n? or…what if we lose them both—”

*boogsh!*

a sudden explosion was seen. the four walls inside yaga’s office have officially become three when satoru couldn't handle his emotions that he let his cursed energy slip and create a hole into one of yaga’s walls. the impact was so strong that it literally shook the whole jujutsu high.

and surprisingly, none of the three inside the scene was scratched, just emotionally taken aback. the once gojo satoru who couldn't even utter a word earlier, was now looking at shoko with a mixture of menace, trouble, anger, grief, and…extreme sadness.

shoko ties his stare, looking equivalently. “did you hear what i said, gojo? your wife and your baby are currently facing the grim reaper. do you understand that?” she said calmly but there is a hit or hardness into her tone.

“shut up! fucking shut up!” another surge of curse energy flows in different directions, making yaga and shoko feel goosebumps on how strong it is.

“satoru!” yaga yelled in panic.

“where is she? where the fuck is she?! show me where she is!” satoru screamed at the doctor. shoko, whose face is now back to emotionless, decides to subside her annoyance to the man as she knows you are the top priority right now.

“i will let you see her. but once you see her, you have to teleport us into the hospital immediately if you still want to see her open her eyes.” shoko said seriously. thankfully, satoru managed to calm himself alone and just stared at shoko, waiting for her to continue.

“y/n was experiencing placenta abruption. it's a very serious complication in her case because the placenta in the inner wall of her uterus is completely detached. it greatly affects the baby’s supply of oxygen and nutrients and the situation causes her to bleed heavily.”

“i immediately minimize the bleeding but i cannot guarantee the two's safety, especially the baby, since it is not worth the risk to imply cursed energy to an unborn child—” before shoko could even finished explaining, satoru already stormed out of the room and just proceeds to the room where his guts tell you where. he was being followed by shoko who was screaming at him.

opening one of the doors, there he saw you all pale. he could feel your cursed energy barely beating, and that scared the shit out of him because that indicates your weakness.

“o-oh god…” satoru couldn't help but to feel his breathing pattern becoming irregular as a single tear followed by another drop from his gorgeous powerful blue eyes.

this can't be happening. you were just fine a while ago!

“y/n, oh my g-god! my wife…” gojo satoru, known by his title as the strongest sorcerer in his generation, was seen crying over his dying wife and dying unborn child. his tall figure was trembling in tangled emotions that he couldn't even determine the two ends.

“sorry to ruin your moment, but if you want to save your family, it's better for us to keep moving now.” shoko followed the suit, still savage as ever.

gojo does what she said and teleports the three of you into the bestest hospital that he knows. ignoring the toll on his cursed energy as it took more, more than the usual usage, satoru believes that your well-being should be his priority rather than his.

when they arrived, shoko immediately started to bump the people out of the way and started to call for help. “someone! get us to an emergency!” she screamed.

meanwhile, satoru keeps your body close to him. hugging your frame ever so delicately, scared that you might break or disappear.

a man like satoru gojo, whom to some called him a man-god, find himself crying out to every gods and deities out there to help you, to help him get this through. he prays and prays to keep you safe and how he's sorry for all of the things he would do.

for sure, he knew this sudden care for you is not born out of pity or regret, it is a late realization on how much he couldn't bear to see you like this. because deep inside him, satoru couldn't deny the warm feeling of having someone that was waiting for him to come home, provide him service, and even give him a bundle of joy.

the words he swore to himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is completely capable of being by himself was getting eaten by his current self. served on a silver platter, satoru didn't mind eating his own words.

a stretcher was bought on sight and shoko instructed him to put your body there and watch the series of doctors rush your body into the emergency room. satoru watches the light above the door where you were in turns red, signaling that it requires immediate medical attention.

placing his traumatized body on one of the cold walls of the hospital, sliding his man shoulders and crumbling himself into small pieces to make himself as small as possible. never he would have thought that the night would end with him continuing to pray for your safety.

satoru didn't realize that he dozed off within the walls of a random corner of a hospital where he brought you in. he only realized his current situation when he could feel someone kicking his lower body constantly.

opening his tired eyes, he saw shoko eyeing him while still continuing to nudge him. “good, you're awake.” she said.

it feels like a surge of energy flows to his body and it immediately makes him rise up faster than he could. that was also when he started to feel all of the aches in his body just from sleeping in that kind of position.

“fuck, my whole body aches.” he mumbles to himself. satoru was about to stretch himself when he saw the time on the wall.

5:05 AM

and then his eyes landed on the door.

there was no red light anymore.

“y/n. shoko, where's y/n?!” anxiousness washed all over his body. he didn't know what to expect on what answers he's about to receive regarding his family condition.

meanwhile, shoko thinks that gojo looked like a lost puppy on how his eyes literally beg for a positive answer. despite his six foot frame, he looks like a poor and desperate child.

“the operation ended an hour ago. y/n was now stable and goy transferred into one of the private rooms. while the baby…” she pauses.

“w-what? what happened to my baby?” shoko almost grimaces the way satoru addresses the unborn child, wondering where the hell did he get the guts to say that.

the doctor was this close to brutally and savagely roast this man until he flew in shame—that’s how mad, angry, and upset shoko from what satoru did to you. but today is not the suitable day for that, she may be cruel but she had limits. so, shoko forcefully swallowed the harsh words and decided to just put it aside.

“the baby was delivered early through cesarean, it's the only way to save y/n and the child. the baby is currently in a neonatal intensive care unit where the bestest doctors monitor the child until it reaches mature development.”

so basically, you give birth to his child. satoru couldn't explain what he's feeling right now. he's happy for the baby, and yet at the same time, he feels really undeserving, but he still wants to be part of the child's life—this is too complicated for him.

and besides, this is not the right time to contemplate. because as a husband and father, he needed to stay with his family to provide them love, support, and to patch that once had been wounded. and he's going to start with…

“can i go and see y/n?” deep inside him, satoru felt ridiculous for asking that question since he is the literal husband! or was he? after everything he had done to her for five years?

shoko then tiredly pointed at the room at the end of the hallway and satoru, with the help of his long legs, never ran faster than his whole life.

gently opening the door in your room, satoru was greeted by your peaceful and sleeping form with all of the tubes connected on the back of your hand. closing the door behind him, satoru finally let go of the tears he's been holding the whole time, ranging from the confrontation with you until to to this situation.

sitting on the chair beside your bed, satoru weeps as he holds your arm. at this moment, the strongest no longer exists, it was just gojo satoru who couldn't stop himself from muttering an apology to his wife that he did so wrong.

they say, you would only realize the importance of something when it's now late. satoru would absolutely agree to that statement and he could even provide proofs and evidence. at first, he's being a total dick and douchebag to his wife who clearly doesn't even do anything wrong to him. then his own wife endured all of his actions for the whole five years and still remained as if their relationship could be only determined on a sheet of paper.

“i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.” satoru may not know what would happen the moment you would open your eyes. would you send him away? or would you let him stay despite all of the pain and trauma he caused you? for now, he can never know.

but one thing he's going to let you know, he's going to change for you and for his baby. he's done doing things for himself, and now, he should focus on you.

and he's going to start with cutting all of his ties to his mistress.

[part 3 is now posted! for those who wanted to be tagged, just say it on the comments — ©luvvixu2024]

taglists: @mistymuii @kalopsia-flaneur @sherryuki-callmeyuki @tttttttf @slyhersophia @rirk-ke @username23345 @lvstru @neteyxms

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

Oooh I love your ot8 writings so much!! Would you be able to write one where something bad happened to the reader while the boys are away on tour , like injury or is sad or something?

ℍ𝕠𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝕓𝕖𝕕𝕤

Warning: Angst/comfort/fluff

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Leeknow, can you please help me put up the chandelier in the study room? I can’t study without good lighting,” Y/N pouted, her eyes wide and pleading as she begged her boyfriend for help.

“Yeah, baby, as soon as I’m done with this,” Leeknow replied absently, barely glancing up from his laptop. He was deeply focused on reviewing and choreographing new dance moves for their upcoming tour. Y/N frowned at his lack of attention and decided to find someone else.

“Channie-Oppa,” she called softly, knocking on the door to his studio.

“Come in, babygirl!” Chan’s voice came from the other side, warm and welcoming. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, spotting Han and Changbin working at a table covered in papers.

“Hey, baby,” Chan said, pulling her onto his lap as she entered. “What can I do for you today?” He rested his cheek against hers, giving her a moment of comfort.

“Can one of you help me put up the chandelier in the study room? I asked Leeknow, but he seems too busy,” she pouted, giving them her best doe eyes.

“Tsssk, maybe not right now, bunny,” Changbin said, brushing his fingers gently along her thigh before kissing her temple. “We need to finish the tracklist for the tour, yeah? Maybe in a bit?”

“Binnie’s right,” Chan added, looking apologetic. “We’re really kind of swamped right now. Maybe in a few hours?”

Y/N huffed in frustration and slid off his lap, crossing her arms. “I don’t like that attitude,” Chan warned, his tone teasing, but there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes.

“You guys never have time anymore, and I really need to study!” she whined, exasperated.

“Well, if you want us to keep a roof over our heads and have the finances for those expensive cars and Birkin bags you like, we have to make some sacrifices,” Han teased, his expression lightening the mood. Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help giggling as she leaned in to peck him on the lips.

“Fine, I’ll go find someone else to do it,” she sighed, making her way toward the door.

“See you later, baby!” Chan called after her, waving as she closed the door behind her.

Determined to find help, Y/N headed to the conference room, where she found Hyunjin and I.N. along with their manager, surrounded by stacks of papers. Felix was getting measured for some new outfits.

“There are my amazing models,” she chimed, trying to bring some cheer to the tense atmosphere.

“Hey, baby! I’m so sorry, but we really can’t talk right now,” Hyunjin whispered, his expression apologetic. “We’re in a fashion week meeting.”

“Is what you need important?” he asked, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. Y/N glanced over his shoulder and realized they were indeed in a serious meeting. She cursed under her breath, then turned back to him.

“Baby, the love of my life—”

“Mhm, what do you want?” he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Here’s my card,” he said, pulling it out to hand to her. “Buy whatever you need.”

“That’s not why I’m here, but thanks!” she giggled. “Can you or one of the others help me put up the chandelier in the study room? Pretty please?” She gave him her best puppy-dog eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll tell the boys, but not right now, okay?” he said quickly. “I have to go now. I’ll see you in a bit.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips and hurried off before she could respond.

Feeling defeated, she closed the door and made her way to the living room. Then it hit her—she still had two more boyfriends somewhere in the house! Not ready to give up, she decided to head to the instrument room.

She lightly knocked on the door, and I.N. called for her to come in. As she stepped inside, she noticed one of the instructors sitting in the corner, reviewing some papers.

“Hey, babe!” Seungmin greeted her with a warm smile, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. “Everything okay?”

“Can one of you help me put up the chandelier in the study room?” she asked, trying to sound hopeful.

“Maybe after we’re done with vocal practice, yeah?” Seungmin replied, nodding toward the instructor.

“Fine,” she huffed, frustrated but smiling nonetheless. “Thanks, guys!” she said, waving goodbye as she left.

The boys kept pushing her away with their busy schedules, and now the one thing she really needed help with remained undone. She didn’t want to study in any of their workspaces while they were gone; the whole reason they even had a study room was because Chan wanted her to have her own little space. As she walked away, she resolved to find a way to get that chandelier up—one way or another.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The fall happened in an instant. One moment, Y/N was up on the ladder, carefully trying to fix the big chandelier, and the next, she was crashing down, the world spinning wildly around her. She hit the floor with a jarring thud, and everything went dark for a moment.

When her vision finally cleared, she was greeted by a shocking sight: shards of glass glimmered around her like a dangerous constellation, and a pool of crimson was slowly spreading out from beneath her. Her heart raced as she registered the pain throbbing in her head and the sharpness of it radiating through her body.

“Ow,” she groaned, her voice barely above a whisper as she attempted to assess her injuries. Panic began to rise in her throat as she looked at the blood pooling around her. “No, no, no…”

Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire. The tightness in her throat made it impossible to scream or call for help. All she could manage were muffled cries, silent and desperate, as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Y/N’s phone lay just out of reach, the screen dark and unresponsive to her silent pleas for help. Her strength waned, and she felt her limbs grow heavy, as if the weight of her fear was pulling her down into the abyss.

“Help… someone…” she thought, but the words wouldn’t come. The room around her began to fade, shadows creeping in at the edges of her vision. Just as she felt herself slipping away, everything went black.

In that moment, the world faded, leaving only an echo of her own heartbeat and the haunting realization that she was utterly alone.

Beep Beep Beep Beep

The haunting beeping of hospital monitors filled Y/N's ears as she slowly regained consciousness. Bright white light pierced her eyes, making her squint against the harsh glare. A groan escaped her lips as she tried to process everything around her. Pain coursed through her body, sharp and relentless, and her memory felt like a jumbled puzzle.

As she shifted slightly, a cry of pain escaped her when she caught sight of her leg in a bulky cast. Panic surged through her.

“Y/N?”

She recognized the voice instantly. “T/N, you’re awake? Thank God! Don’t scare me like that!” Yeji exclaimed, sitting beside her with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in her hands.

“What happened?” Y/N groaned, looking over at her friend, trying to shake off the fog in her mind.

“You tell me, love. I just came over because we had plans, and I found you on the ground. I think you fell off the ladder,” Yeji explained, her fingers gently caressing Y/N's hand, trying to offer comfort.

“I—I was trying to…” Y/N struggled to gather her thoughts, her head pounding. “I was trying to put up the chandelier, and then I just fell,” she admitted, her voice weak.

“Girl! You have eight boyfriends for all that heavy lifting! Why would you do that?” Yeji questioned, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“I told them, but they were busy getting ready for tour. They forgot…” Y/N sighed, trying to get comfortable in the stiff hospital bed.

“Well, look where that’s gotten us now,” Yeji softly scolded her. “Speaking of boyfriends, they’re on their way back. I called them.”

Y/N gasped, eyes widening in alarm. “Why would you tell them, Yeji? I’m fine!”

“Y/Nnie, are you crazy?! Have you seen yourself?!” Yeji exclaimed, looking at her like she had lost her mind.

“You have a broken arm and leg, cuts everywhere, and a huge concussion!”

“Yeah, but they have tour, Yeji! Their fans are more important,” Y/N replied, frustration creeping into her voice.

Yeji shook her head in disbelief. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“One sec, Chan is calling,” Yeji said, picking up her phone. Y/N groaned and closed her eyes, dreading the impending conversation.

The pain medication was strong, and when she next opened her eyes, it was five hours later. The room was filled with low chatter, and as her vision cleared, she saw all her boyfriends gathered around her.

“Hey,” she croaked, her voice raspy but still audible above the noise.

“Baby?” Chan was the first by her side, gripping her hand gently to avoid the IV. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”

“Hey, babe,” she replied, trying to shift for comfort, only to groan again.

“Don’t scare us like that again,” Han added, settling on her other side and placing soft kisses on her hand, while Felix sat in one corner, and I.N. perched on the other.

“Why did you guys come back?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she noticed the concern etched on their faces.

“I told you guys she’s gone mad,” Yeji chimed in from her spot in the corner, shaking her head.

“What do you mean why? Babe, you’re in the hospital with a concussion!” Leeknow said, disbelief lacing his voice.

“What even possessed you to get on that ladder?!” Changbin exclaimed, frustration evident.

“None of you wanted to put up the chandelier, so I thought—”

“You thought you could do it alone?” Chan interrupted, his tone serious. “Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“Well, none of you wanted to do it!” she snapped back, the pain in her body giving way to frustration. “You guys are always busy. I don’t even know why you’re here!”

The boys exchanged guilty looks, realizing how much they had let her down. “You’re right… I’m sorry, babe,” Chan said softly.

“Are you feeling better?” Changbin asked, concern filling his eyes. “Have you eaten?”

“The pain meds are helping, so yeah. But no, I haven’t eaten,” she admitted, her stomach growling in agreement.

“This is the second time she’s woken up; she hasn’t had the energy to eat yet,” Yeji explained, organizing the flowers and teddy bears that had been sent by fans.

“Thank you, Yeji, for taking care of her,” Hyunjin said, his gratitude evident.

“I am the better Hwang, after all,” she teased, a playful grin on her face.

“What would you like to eat, baby?” Seungmin asked, pulling out his phone.

“Anything… I don’t really care,” she huffed, trying to get comfortable again.

“Cuddle?” Felix pouted, his eyes filled with concern. He felt awful seeing her like this and wanted nothing more than to make her comfortable.

She nodded shyly, and he quickly crawled to her side, gently wrapping her in his arms. She leaned back, taking in his comforting scent.

“Did you guys get any rest?” she asked, looking at I.N., her youngest boyfriend.

“No, Noona. We just got here from the airport,” he frowned, his eyes filled with worry.

“Chan—”

“No, no, no. We aren’t going anywhere until they say you can leave the hospital,” he said firmly, his expression leaving no room for argument.

“But come on, it’s just a broken leg and arm, Take them home to at least get showered and rest, and you’ll be back,” she pleaded, trying to convince him.

But it was no use. All of them refused to budge.

So for two days, they all stayed at the hospital, living out of their suitcases and using the hospital bathrooms as their personal ones. Luckily, she was finally released, and they were able to go back home to their comfortable beds.

And as for the tour? Well, that had been forgotten in the chaos.

The ride home from the hospital was filled with a mix of excitement and exhaustion. As they pulled into the driveway, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sight of their home. She felt a wave of relief wash over her. Finally, she was out of that sterile hospital room and back where she belonged.

“Welcome back baby,” Chan announced dramatically as they all stepped inside. The house felt warm and inviting, and she was immediately surrounded by her boyfriends, each eager to help her settle in.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” Han said, guiding her to the couch, where fluffy pillows awaited. As she sank into the cushions, a content sigh escaped her lips.

“I missed this place,” she murmured, letting her eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“Not as much as we missed you,” Seungmin replied, plopping down next to her and offering her a slice of her favorite cake. “Here, you need to eat something.”

“Thank you, Seungmin,” she smiled, taking a bite. The sweetness was comforting, and she could feel her energy returning just from the taste.

“I’ll grab you some water,” I.N said, jumping up. “And maybe some snacks, too!”

“You spoil her,” Leeknow teased, shooting a knowing glance at Y/N. “But I guess that’s our job now.”

As the boys hustled around, Felix crouched down beside the couch, looking up at her with his big, earnest eyes. “What do you need, Y/N? Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen!”

“Just having you all here is enough,” she replied, her heart swelling with affection.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

Taglist: @ihrtlix@bowsnbang@katsukis1wife@thegingerthatwaited@thicccurls

@xxeiraxx @paleangelsweets @klaydohart @eastleighsblog @ivrespace

@galaxy4489 @purplepursepaint @catlove83 @sillystormsstuff @iwuberic

@cocofia143 @royal-shinigami @virluna148 @galaxycatdrawz @memersanonymous

@skz-stay13 @seungminsbest @hogwartslife64 @sinfulfic @hyunnesblog

@maisyyyyyy @cluelessred3 @leezanetheofficial @cocofia143 @lemonn015

@kkamismom12 @mei0packet @igetcarriedawaywithyou @hyuneyeon @iris-iiridescent

@mbioooo0000

(open: i believe i've added everyone but if you don't see your @ please comment down below)

[selineram3421]

Deer Demon Child Headcanons

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor & Child Reader

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ protective Alastor, mention of nightmares, ugh..Valentino mention, stabbing mention, mention of food-crepes and strawberries ⚠

The hotel guests and staff are all very protective of you.

At first the hazbin group thought that the Radio Demon would have trouble seeing to your needs but were surprised to see him do a really good job.

Whenever you're eating and manage to get food around your mouth, Alastor is always prepared with a napkin to wipe it away. Reminding you of your manners too.

"Now remember ma petite, you mustn't make a mess while eating."

"Ok."

Husk takes care of you when everyone else is busy. It happens quite often but he doesn't mind since you're mostly coloring or reading a book.

He keeps juice at the bar for you and has cups just for you as well. Most of the "fancy cups" are tea set cups and fake glass cups. All plastic.

He does worry about you sometimes because you like soft fluffy things. The cat demon has seen you stare down Alastor's ears.

It happened once, but he saw his boss holding you while going downstairs and you touched the deer ear. Husk was worried that Alastor would drop you then and there but was surprised to see him let it happen.

"What the fuck."

"Watch your words Husker."

Husk still lets you know to be careful and then teaches you how to play cards.

Vaggie is a little wary around you but after your story warms up to you. She is careful whenever carrying her spear around you.

Angel lets you play with Fat Nuggets and takes pictures whenever you take naps or play dress up with the little pig.

"Put matching bows!"

Pentious is extra careful around you, especially since Alastor smiles creepily at him whenever he sees him. He'll make you a little music box out of some spare parts he had on his warship.

You often play with the egg bois. Tea parties, dress up, and treasure hunting. The egg bois follow you around like ducks whenever you are around their boss.

Being dubbed as Alastor's child, you are well taken care of and he spoils you whenever he gets the chance. It doesn't help that Rosie also spoils you whenever Alastor brings you to Overlord meetings.

Carmilla and her daughters always set out crayons and paper for you, also having a chair made for you to have a seat at the table.

Zestial colors with you and brings you chocolate, sometimes lets you wear his hat.

The other Overlords warm up to you and greet you every time you tell them good morning.

Vox, surprisingly showed up to a meeting once alone and saw you, the little deer that you are. He laughed and jabbed at your nose.

"Who let you in here squirt?"

He pushed on it too hard and that made you tear up and cry out in pain.

Alastor immediately threw him across the room and picked you up. Scolding himself for being distracted while consoling you.

"It hurts!"

"It's alright, I've got you now.", he says and rubs your nose lightly to get the pain to go away.

"What the hell!? This is supposed to be neutral ground during-!", the television demon did not notice all the other Overlords glaring at him with murderous intent until he looked up. "...meetings...."

Yeah, he doesn't try that again and warns the other V not to mess with the kid.

You make sure to stay away from the V's after that and glare at Vox whenever you see him.

Valentino is gross and Alastor, along with the other Overlords, make sure you stay away from the moth.

Velvette draws you an outfit but keeps it hidden. She finds you adorable but also doesn't go near you.

Alastor uses his shadow to steal the drawing. He finds out about it at some point but it was a total coincidence.

It's not bad and has Rosie make it.

Velvette is confused and enraged, because how the hell do you have her outfit she designed!? Who stole it!?

"WHERE THE FUCK IS IT!?"

Alastor finds it funny and notices that the smallest V is absent from the meetings, no doubt trying to find who stole the design.

Alastor skips out on a meeting due to you having a nightmare the day before. You woke up crying, saying it was about your father and mother fighting.

He does his best to calm you down and sings to you softly.

"It was just a dream.", he rubs your back.

"I don't wanna go back to sleep.", you whimper.

Then he sings you a song, What We Have Is You by Sterling K. Brown (Yes it's from Kipo, I love that show.)

"We may not have sunshine, or starlight, or weather.

But we've got each other, and that's even better.

You don't need the sun to keep you warm when you've got arms.

Wishes come from you and not a random shooting star."

You sleep peacefully after that and while making sure you're alright, Alastor checks up on the human news again, grin growing wider after finding out your father was stabbed in prison.

The next morning, Alastor is cooking breakfast with some soft jazz playing.

"And I want strawberries!", you say, pointing at the fruit on the counter.

"Alright my little deer.", he replies, sending his shadow to cut up some of the fruit for the crepes he's making.

Many readers asked for this part 2. So here it is!

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie

more in the comments+

ML II Alastor🎙️

[nex-ture]

5 star Hsr characters' reactions to you getting them a gift for Christmas!

I have 30+ reqs I should be doing instead of this, but I really love hsr and hi3 right now, so we have to cope.

Do yall want a 4 star version?

Fugue is still learning to live her life as a "new person," so when you hand her a box, she is taken aback. She wasn't able to get you anything. Are you sure it's okay if she has this? As she opens it, you can see a small light spark, taking the new and beautiful clothing out slowly and holding them to her body, as a small smile sneaks across her face.

"Thank you Y/N, I'm sure you thought about this greatly."

Christmas is not new to Sunday. It felt more like a penacony tradition than a holiday to him. So when you returned his present with one of your own, he seemed surprised but beyond happy. Opening the gift to see a Robin album that was compatible with the music player of the express, he swears he almost cried.

"I can use this in the train car, right? I'm delighted."

On Acherons home planet, Christmas was not a very popular holiday, but that doesn't mean they didn't gift each other still. Acherons hands slowly open the box you've handed her. A new sword cover for her blade, it's decked in red and white, standing out from her purple and black outfits.

"You put a lot of effort into this, I appreciate that, Y/N."

Argenti has always valued beauty above all else, beauty in looks and personality combined. His gift was nothing less than beautiful, but yours was nothing less of gorgeous. Hair clips, earings, and new sets of jewels, he could've sworn your reflection, made them even more beautiful, however. You must be a dependent of idrila herself.

"These radiate a dazzling glow of beauty, though they could not compare to you or idrila."

Living in his own version of Hell, Aventurine was not used to many christmas customs. Sure, he and his sister celebrated together, but presents were never involved. So he showed genuine shock when you handed him a gift, he had the money now, he could simply get it himself. Yet he was surprised to see the gift was a small drawing of his sister in it.

"Is this...hah, of course, thank you, Y/N."

As the new higher elder among the Vidyadhara, Bailu was jam-packed busy. But she always had time to talk to her favorite sibling! She considered all her friends and family as siblings, and you were no different. She enjoyed every present she was allowed to open on Christmas, but yours was her favorite. Ripping open the paper to see jewelry for her horns and tail. She just might be the prettiest high elder to date.

"WAOHH, NO WAY, Y/N HELP ME PUT IT ON, AND WE CAN SHOW EX HIGH ELDER DAN HENG!"

Black Swan was accustomed to all holidays and walks of life, Christmas happened to be one of her favorites, cause you always went out of your way to get her something sweet. Her hands gratefully took the gift you've given her, a new set of tarot cards? You shouldn't have. She'll have to add them to her collection.

"You must be the sweetest thing to grace me with such a gift, I'll be sure to use them on you later."

Blade is not one for celebration, but if it interests the rest of Stellaron Hunters, he can play along. Opening the last gift to himself as everyone watches. It was a small trinket from the Luofu, a place he is banned from stepping foot on again. Though it may bring back agonizing feelings, it gives him hope that one day, all sins will be purged, and those who deserve it will understand freedom.

"I don't understand your thoughts process, but your gifts are appreciated."

A refugee on the run, like Boothill, spending Christmas with someone else? Likely story. But still, he's glad he gets to spend this day with what little family he has left. Opening the gift to see a new, classic revolver. He's over the moon excited and already showing it off in battle.

"FUDGE YEAH, WE GOTTA GO FOR TEST DRIVE NOW, GORGEOUS."

The new Supreme Guardian, Bronya, seems to be holding a big celebration for the Christmas season, and you're right by her side. Opening her gift to see a collection of items left behind my her deceased mother, Cocolia. Tears fall from her eyes as she thanks you profusely.

"I wish she was still here, even after everything. Thank you for your thought."

Svarog and Clara awaited your appearance for Christmas time. When you come with multiple gifts in your hand, Clara is beyond excited. Opening up her new toys and clothes as she shows each off to Svarog. Thanking you and Santa Claus for such thoughtful gifts.

"Mr Svarog, Santa got me light up shoes! I've seen kids in the overworld wearing things like this!"

"Yes, Saint Nick must have marked you as nice this year."

Dan Heng has always been very to himself for the most part. He isn't one to openly talk about his feelings or the things he likes, but when you gave him a portable data bank, he might just have seen stars. He loved being able to learn more about the world and the things around him, and now he doesn't have to go back to the express just to study the things he likes? Maybe this'll give him a reason to sleep in his actual room for once!

"Thank you, Y/N, I'll be sure to put this to very good use."

With most days spent traveling and figuring out new things in the world, Dr. Ratio is not one for celebration, but he won't reject your wantings to celebrate. When you handed him new electric stationary, he was satisfied. It was something he'd felt the need to replace for a while but never got around to it. It turns out you listen well.

"My sincere appreciation, you'll have to help me later."

Rushing out of her house to meet up with you before a big celebration held on the LuoFu ship. Seeing you as her fave lights up, but what's this in your hand? Alcohol!? You know her so well! You'll definitely be drinking with her tonight. Feixiao cannot wait a second more.

"Is this for me!? Let's invite the other generals over and party!"

Another Stellaron Hunter down for a celebration. Firefly is beyond excited to celebrate the holiday with you. And in the corner of your eye you can see her giggling as Kafka puts the new hair bow you bought her, in her hair. Just cause she's a fighter doesn't mean she can't also look pretty doing it.

"AHH, does it look good? I have to wear it on our next mission"

Fu Xuans' work was busy, but she always foresaw time with you, but she didn't see this gift coming. As she opened it, she saw nothing but letters singing her praises. She giggled and smiled as she read all the sweet words you wrote, saying nothing but kind things about her.

"Do you really mean this? Thank you Y/N, I'll have to step up next year."

Hard working was one word anyone would use to describe Gepard. But that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve a break sometimes. Waiting for him at his family house to celebrate with his sisters seems to be the best gift he got this year, but you gifting him his very own helmet, one that stood out from the rest of the guards? He was over the moon excited.

"For me? Are you serious? This is incredible!"

Himeko, navigator of the express, she was stoked to celebrate christmas with the express, her family. So when her gift to you was nothing less of an engagement ring. Tears fell from her eyes. Her biggest dream was to get married, and she was now going to be living out that dream with the only person she wanted to love? This might be the best day of her life.

"What...yes, I will marry you 100 times over and in every universe.."

HuoHuo was used to spending Halloween with tail and the other judges, but when you offered to join, she was over the moon! She opened her gift to see treats for Tail and a sweet treat for her. She felt so bad that you went out of your way to get her something she liked so much, and even something for tail! If you ask Tail, she definitely cried.

"WAHH, THANK YOU SO MUCH Y/N, ME AND TAIL ARE SO GREATFUL."

Christmas was Jades favorite holiday. It was a day of money maming to her and giving gifts to people she needed to show care for. Your gift to her came to a surprise. You went out of your way to buy her something? How cute. It was a new pen collection, but it was still adorable to her, even if it did seem small.

"Thank you, sweetheart, but I'm sure you'll like my gift much more."

A top chef/medic like Jiaoqiu? He might just be the easiest to shop for. All he's wanted were new kitchen gadgets, and that's what you have provided. Even though this is what he asked for, for Christmas, he's still happy that you went out of your way to listen and buy these things. Jiaoqiu might be the luckiest Foxian on any Xianzhou ship.

"New pots and pans? It appears someone had their listening ears on."

General of the LouFu, Jing Yuan, is very excited about the Christmas festival. The ship is hosting, but he is much more excited to celebrate with you. So when you gift him a painting of his long lost and nearly forgotten friends, he knows tears will fall soon. The image of Dan Feng, Yingxing, Baiheng, Jingliu, and Jing Yuan standing tall in their youth brings him sadness and bliss.

"You must tell me where you got this done and how. This is wonderful."

Jingliu, currently banned for the LuoFu for past crimes, she does not have many people to celebrate this day with, but you're more than enough. When you gift her your time and you grace, that seems like more than enough for her. A day to stop moving around the cosmos on the hunt for the Aeon of abundance. Give her the time she needs, for this is one of her only days off in the year.

"I find gifts utterly pointless when I'd much rather spend the day with you."

The Stellaron Hunters celebration continues as Kafka opens up her gift. She's delighted to see new clothes and accessories you and the other hunters chipped in to buy for her. It feels as if she's throwing a whole fashion show the minute she gets her hands on them. She swears Christmas is her favorite holiday because she gets to spend it with you, but you swear it's cause she knows she'll get new clothes.

"This dress is gorgeous, I'm sure you all want to see me in it now, right?"

The cauldron master makes her appearance for this Xianzhou celebration. Hand in hand with you, as you hand Lingsha a gift during the festivities, she's delighted to see a plush bunny keychain. You must be paying close attention to her whenever she works her abundance magic.

"Is this what you got me? You're such a sweetheart."

Luocha, a traveling merchant from worlds far out, traveling around the world makes it very difficult to buy gifts, no? But for him, it must be worth it. As you gifts...pieces of Tayzzyronths, the Aeon of propogations body. He is ecstatic to see he has new parts to add to his collection within the coffin. Jingliu might be over the moon to hear about this, too. This will ensure their victory against the Aeon of Abundance.

"Is this what I think it is? How long have you been hiding such a vital piece from me? Never mind that, this must call for celebrating. Be a dear and call Jingliu for me. We have much to discuss."

Rappa views Christmas as a battle. A battle to who can gift the best gift. Her idea of a gift was to write you a song, and yours? Gifting her new DJ gear. This works out perfectly, maybe now she can play your special song on an even better set up! Wait...don't tell me that means you've won!?

"Hell yeah, Dazzling Ninja, aka Rappa, thanks you for your gift. But know this is not the end!"

Robin always seems to be busy, but she's never too busy for you on Christmas! This is one of her only days off. Please say you'll join her in the dream to celebrate! She ecstatic when she see's your gift to her is a song you wrote yourself. She thinks music is one of the most beautiful things, and the peep hole into a persons heart. You must love her more than she knows.

"You wrote this for me!? Y/N I might cry, this is wonderful!"

Ruan Mei is usually stuck in her lab working on the revival of Aeons, maybe even making herself on Aeon. Though it's always a delight when you visit her, dropping off food and goodies this holiday season. Her smile grows as you stay behind to talk to her and watch her work her Ruan Mei magic. She was never one for big celebrations, but she always loves hanging out with you.

"Thank you for your time this evening. You're always free to come back."

Taking care of the undercity is not an easy job, but Seele manages to get it done with the help of you and Bronya. Hopefully, one day, all their hard work will finally mean something. Until then, a festival held in both the under and over city is so surprise. Seeles praying you'll ask her to go, and when you do, gifting her gold, she thinks she might cry. One day, all this work will amount to everything.

"For me? No, you should keep it for yourself, time's are tough....Thank you, Y/N"

The final Stellaron Hunter on this list and the biggest party thrower, Silver Wolf! It's no surprise her gift is game related, but she still can't help but be excited about all the new things she'd going to play. Bragging to Blade and showing off her toys, even if he doesn't seem to care all that much. She knows his nods and your smile are enough validation.

"NO WAY, I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THIS, JUST HOW WERE YOU ABLE TO GET YOUR HANDS ON IT."

The masked fool Sparkle is not the easiest to shop for...let that be known. It's hard to figure her out, but the one thing you do know is that she loves dolls, bombs, and mischief. Your gift ended up being a plush goldfish that was yellow and red, matching her in a way. She was ecstatic, it reminded her of Vita and her other masked fool accomplices.

"Is this for me? You shouldn't have, Vita and Sampo will be so jealous, heheh."

Topaz and Numby were just as hard to shop for. The only difference seemed to be that Topaz would be grateful for anything you got her. So, getting her a giant plush that looks just like Numby? She was beyond excited. She immediately had to show Numby and send pictures to her work collèges Aventurine and Jade. This day made her feel like she was on cloud 9.

"You got me this!? Is that Numby! Oh my Aeons. THIS IS AMAZING."

Welt is no stranger to the holidays, he used to celebrate every year with his son. Yet he must move on and celebrate with his nee family. You included. He enjoyed all his gifts, but yours was his favorite. Looking around in excitement as he opened the box to see illustrations of his "TV shows". Drawings of how you and the other nameless viewed his own history. It almost brought him to tears.

"This is lovely, can you help me figure out who is who, I'm a little lost on a few."

As a Cloud knight, Yanqing felt a sense of responsibility with this up coming Christmas festival. But that didn't make him want to soend it with you any less. So when he sees that you got him brang knew throwing swords, he cried. Tears streaming down as he hugged you, singing your praises for such a thoughtful gift.

"T-THANK YOU SO MUCH Y/NNNN, YOU'RE SO AMAZING."

Yunli was used to receiving gifts of all kinds, yet she always had to buy herself her favorite thing. Giant swords. So when she saw you carry in a box, almost as tall as you, her face lit up. When you gave her to ok to open it, she almost fell to her knees. It was the most beautiful and biggest sword she'd ever laid her eyes on. And it was all hers! There's no way she could find enough words to thank you for this one.

"THIS IS MINE? I'M GONNA TRAIN TEN TIMES HARDER WITH THIS."

[bi-writes]

bestfriend!rooommate!simon finds out you've been lying.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 8/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mean!simon (verbally), size kink (simon can move the reader easily, described as much bigger), praise kink, the mask doesn't come off, oral (m!receiving), fem!receiving touching, cumplay, soft!dom!simon, reader uses simon to get herself off (because there is no universe in which simon doesn't return his girl's favor), pet names (including pet and kitty)

you lied.

if simon had his gloves off, his knuckles would be stark white from how hard he was gripping the mail in his hands.

neither of you had checked your mailbox in a while--simon had only returned a few days ago from the harsh winter of northern russia after weeks away, and you seemingly had been busy with work. so busy, simon noticed very quickly, that you spent morning to late at night in your red and white uniform, coming home in the dead of night just to crash and do it all again the next morning.

now he held all the letters in his hand. stacks of them, with angry red stamps bleeding into the white of the envelopes.

NOTICE

WARNING

PAST DUE

LAST NOTICE

he stopped breathing for a moment. he spread the letters out on the table, flipping through each of them. he didn't open them, of course but these were all your bills. cell phone, last month's half of the rent, credit cards, your name written on the back and ugly red warnings pasted over it.

simon had spoken to you while he was gone. he had called you once, twice at least, and all he remembered was your soft voice telling him you missed him, to be careful, that you screwed up a new cookie recipe that you promised you would perfect before he got home.

you hadn't said a thing. your voice had been even and gentle as always. your voice had been comforting, saying only encouraging words. if simon was honest, your voice put him at ease; you always told him something to calm him, something to uplift him.

"i'm so proud of you, simon."

"i hate that you're gone, but there's no one else that could do what you do."

"um...hah...love you. be careful."

you hadn't said a word. your voice didn't reveal an ounce of the stress and the weight that must've been hanging over your head. there was no falter in your words, no strain as you spoke. just pretty, perfect, beautiful you, easing simon's demons while you battled some of your own.

simon crumpled one of the envelopes in his hands. it was thick with papers, but he still forced it into a ball, tossing it back onto the table angrily. he gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it until he heard the key in the lock.

it was quiet as you came inside. you shut the door and locked it behind you, setting down your bag and taking off your jacket. it was morning; you had worked the night shift. your eyes were drawn low, tired and a dull. you said nothing as you toed off your shoes, letting your sneakers settle under the table. it was then that you noticed simon just sitting there, still, with his hands folded in front of him.

and all of your bills scattered around him.

you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes. they were trained low, on the letters surrounding him, but he glared, boring a whole through them. he didn't know where to focus his anger; you were precious, you could do no wrong, you were soft and warm and his, and it wasn't your fault that everything was so expensive, that you were struggling.

but it was your fault that you hadn't said a thing--that you hadn't asked for help.

"simon, i...i-i can explain."

"no. y'r not gonna talk, luv." you had never heard his voice this way. so low and gravelly, an eerie lilt to it that reeked of disappointment and somehow betrayal. "y'r gonna sit down. now."

simon roughly pulled the chair from beside him out, an unspoken command for you to take a seat. your bottom lip trembled as you slumped into the chair, watery eyes avoiding his.

"how long?"

"simon--"

you jumped as he slammed a hand down on the table. the entirety of it shook, the papers ruffling and the dishes clattering loudly.

"a few months! a-a few months, just--"

"no!" simon snapped. "y'lied to me. y'lied to me! i asked! how many times have i asked?! how many times have i looked you in the fuckin' eye and asked you if everythin' was in order, how many fuckin' times?!"

you couldn't keep it in. the tears were hot, running down your cheeks and putting salt on your lips and a dryness in your throat. you were embarrassed. embarrassed that you needed help, ashamed that you were being scolded like a child, afraid of his loud voice and his terrible anger and the way he looked at you. when you decided to live together, you weren't meant to be his burden. you didn't intend to be his problem.

"i-i'm sorry, simon--i'm sorry..." you met his eyes. "i'm taking extra shifts. i-i'm gonna pay the bills, i-i'm gonna make it right, i-i swear--"

"is that what you think this is?"

he narrowed his eyes at you, two dark slits, and then as if a switch flipped, it was gone. his face softened, his eyes widening, and the tension seemed to dissipate just enough to let you breathe a little easier. you couldn't decipher this change, and you couldn't read what was in his eyes, not this time. all you could was sit there and try not to let your cries make any sound.

"do y'think i'm angry because y'didn't pay? is that what y'think?"

you shook your head, shrugging, not understanding his question.

"what...what other reason is there, s-simon?" you hiccuped. "i screwed..." more tears, they wouldn't stop falling, "i-i screwed up, simon, i-i'm so sorry, i-i--"

you jumped when his chair screeched against the floor. he stood up fast, taking a step to round the table to crouch beside your chair. he looked up at you, making himself smaller, and you looked down.

"simon, i'm sorry--"

"stop! stop fuckin' apologizing, fuck," simon interrupted you. his voice was gentle, trying not to scare you, and you closed your mouth, taking in deep, shaking breaths to try and center yourself. "'m angry because you didn't talk to me, luv--" your face fell when he reached up, two gloved hands cupping your puffy cheeks, "--why didn't you say anything? why didn't you tell me? why didn't you ask me for help?"

you sniffled, reaching up and caressing his wrists gently. you played with the edges of his gloves, your fingers skimming the hem of his sleeves and just barely teasing the bare skin under it.

"simon...how could i?" you asked, as if it was obvious. "after everything that's happened...after everything we've been through...h-how could i ask that of you?" "how could you not?" simon spit back, and when you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your cheeks. "no, no--look at me--" he rose up on his knees, pressing your forehead to his, "look at me."

your expression was pained, struggling to do as he asked, but eventually your eyes fluttered, meeting his own, and he grunted as he gripped the back of your neck and held you there.

nowhere to go. nowhere to run. no one else.

"y'r not my problem. not my burden," he muttered. "y'r m'responsibility. mine to take care of."

"i-i don't want you to have to do that--"

"what the fuck do y'think this is?" he breathed. "what we have, what this is, this is forever, has that not gotten through y'r bloody head?" you whimpered when he shook you a little, his hand in your hair as he pulled it tight. "y'r as good as mine. not up for discussion."

you swallowed hard as his hands came down, wiping the tears off your face. he brushed your hair back and away, so he could see you, and you smiled at him sadly, eyes glossy and bright.

"'m gonna take care of the flat from now on, yeah?" simon murmured. "'m gonna take care of everything."

your body visibly relaxed. your shoulders fell, your body sinking a little more into the chair, and there was something sweet in your eyes--something hopeful. simon's tone was definite, and there was no room for arguing. you nodded finally, leaning in slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to where his lips would be under the mask. his thumb swiped over your cheek, falling to trace the line of your jaw, and then you both closed your eyes at the same time.

there was an understanding here. it was as if simon was washing you clean--something refreshing and warm and gentle running down the length of you, rinsing whatever was hurting you right down some sort of sickening void that had gripped you so tightly. and he did it so easily--he did it without even blinking.

and it was easy. simon never hesitated with you. his money rotted in an account anyways--it sat and stared at him, reminding him of the kind of hell he had gone through just to get it. it reminded him of the half of him that was someone, the half of him that he hated, the half of his being that came from a wretched, horrid, terrifying thing that manifested itself somewhere in his blood.

simon was half of something foul, and maybe he couldn't make up for the part of him that he didn't think was human, but he could make up for this, make up for you, make up for whatever half of you had left you here. because that was what you deserved--you deserved to be taken care of, you deserved not to worry, you deserved to sleep in soft sheets and eat until your belly was full and smile so much that your cheeks ached, and if simon had to become someone else just to give it to you, if simon had to die and come back again, then that was exactly what he would do.

simon had died once already. simon had seen it--seen how empty and unfulfilling and quiet it had been. simon had seen another side, and you didn't belong there. you belonged somewhere warm. somewhere a little noisy, a little bright, familiar.

it hadn't always been this way. when simon first met you, it hadn't been a good day--simon wore bruises, and you wore blood, and it was in that instant moment of understanding that made it clear you would be bound forever.

something invisible threaded you together. and simon had pulled himself out of his early grave, and after he had done it, you were the only thing that remained. and he hated himself--he hated himself for thanking some unspoken thing, because his entire family was gone, but you weren't gone, you were still here, there was still sunlight in your eyes and laughter in your voice and you were still warm.

it should've tasted sour to be grateful for it. he wanted to hate himself for this feeling. he deserved to die again and not return, but then he wouldn't get to see you anymore, and the selfish part of him, the other half of him, would never give you up willingly.

this love was visceral. this love was going to kill him. he was going to die with you on his mind, but maybe that would be the only thing worth really dying for.

because there you are. big, pretty eyes gazing up at him--fuck, why does she look at me like that?

why does she look at me like i mean something?

why isn't she afraid?

why can't i push her away?

what the fuck is wrong with me?

his beautiful girl. his pretty little roommate. the woman with flowers for eyes and silk as skin and a mind filled with starlight. the sweetheart pushing him to sit, forcing him backwards, getting on her knees in between his legs. and then her hands were on his thighs, sliding up against the rough denim as she laid one side of her face against it, those petals in her eyes trained on the way that his pants seemed to get tighter with every drag of her delicate fingers up his thighs.

and then she was pushing up his hoodie, exposing the relaxed muscle of his stomach, and then she was kissing it. soft lips warming the solid middle of him, a knowing smile growing on her face as she felt him twitch and jump and grunt. and then those beautiful eyes were looking back up at him, her neck tilted back as she undid his jeans and nestled the hem of them just low enough for her to reach in and fuck--

you knew simon was beautiful everywhere. you knew that there was no part of him that wasn't perfect. you couldn't remember being particularly religious, but kneeling in front of him felt like devotion--and you had much to confess.

he was thick, heavy, a weight in your hand that had you drooling without so much as seeing him. you were looking at the red tip of him with eyes half-lidded, and it took everything in you not to take him all at once. but this was simon, this was your version of perfect, and you needed to show simon how much you felt because words were not enough.

words would never be enough.

you started slow. you dipped your head, your eyes flicking up to watch him as you caressed the base of him with a wet kiss. you squeezed your legs together when you noticed his dark eyes roll back into his head for a second, a pained, pleasured reaction, and then you did it again.

a soft lick, the edge of your tongue sliding over a protruding vein on the underside of his length, and you closed your own eyes for a moment to revel in the deep groan that simon uttered. you sighed deeply, keeping your thighs squeezed together to relieve the sudden ache between them, before flattening your tongue and guiding it up his length. simon cursed under his breath, his hands gripping his thighs tight--but one of his hands flew to the back of your head when your greedy little mouth sucked the tip of him into your mouth.

you moaned softly, tasting the edge of him, something so simon and pleasant. a little precum, warm, flowing onto your tongue. you whimpered when you felt his fingers tangle into your hair, gripping you for stability as you sucked him in.

"christ, luv--" just the sound of him so pleased was enough to have you dripping, "fuck--'s so good, 's perfect--"

she was so beautiful. she was perfect. of course she would be good at sucking him off, of course she would have the prettiest tongue and the warmest mouth, and of course she would have one hand wrapping around the base of him as the other slipped between her legs--

"fuck--y'r gettin' off on this, yeah?" he grunted, his eyes flashing with something dark. "'f course you are, such a good girl--"

good girl, good girl, i'm a good girl--

just as slow as it began, as quick as you became. one moment you were cool, composed, watching simon's eyes and listening to his voice as you tried to memorize what pleasure sounded like when it came from him, and the next moment you were sliding him further into your mouth, drool dripping down your jaw as precum spread across your teeth. he was so big--so much to take, but the strain in your jaw tomorrow would have to be a welcome side effect to making lieutenant simon riley cum down your throat.

so sloppy, what a mess you were making. simon's hand now cupped the side of your head, your hair in some makeshift updo as he guided you along his length. the sounds were filthy--soft, slobbering noises as you took simon just a little further down your throat, your tongue being careful to tease the slit of him, slipping between the fold of it to illicit the most gorgeous of moans out of him.

"fuckin' hell--the mouth of a fuckin' angel--"

"such a pretty girl...such a pretty sight...makin' such a mess, sweetheart..."

"y'like it, yeah? y'like it...y'r so pretty...s'pretty, luv, nnngh--th's it, just like that--"

and now you were bouncing pathetically onto your hand. you pressed your hand into the floor, trapping your thighs over it as you tried desperately to grind down on something as you sucked warmly on simon's length. just as you let out a frustrated whine, simon's boot knocked your hand out of the way, slipping the steel toe of it right there, right--oh!

you cried out as the tip of his boot pushed right up against your cunt. the perfect spot, right against your aching clit, because simon never missed--simon always hit his target, whether it was between the eyes of some muppet who had his gun aimed at johnny or exactly where to touch his girl to make her drool. and drool she did--with her mouth stuffed full of him, with her slick wetting her thighs, with that look in her eyes that could make any man lose his fucking mind.

and simon was losing it, he was crazy. he soothed the back of your neck, grunting and hissing and wetting the fabric of his mask with the way he spat and cursed for you. but how could he help himself? the most beautiful girl in the world was on her knees, looking at him like she was at the alter. confessing her sins, receiving her absolution, taking every bit of it like the good girl she was, is.

he was so pretty. he tasted so good. you could only see his eyes, but it was more than enough, you didn't need anything more. the way he scrunched them open and shut, the low drawl of his voice as he said your name--he was perfect. his cock filled your mouth so nicely; he was using you, but you didn't feel used.

you wanted this. you wanted him. you wanted him to put you between his legs, wanted him to finally feel something other than that sick, twisted ache in his bones.

you lifted your hand, the one that had been buried between your thighs, and you cupped the underside of him with them. the wet, sticky warmth of your fingers had simon choking on a breath, hissing when you began to work the length of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"jesus fuckin' christ--!"

his chest was heaving, rising up and down as he scratched at your scalp and cupped the underside of your jaw. then he bent low, smoothing a gloved hand down your throat, needing to feel the way it constricted, the way you swallowed, the feel of your skin and the vibrations as you whimpered and moaned around the thick of him.

you were suckling so sweetly, letting pools of drool and precum slip past your lips and drip along your chin, your hands, against his boot. simon was getting close--you could tell by the way he tugged on your hair and the faltering of his breaths. and he was talking--talking so much, blubbering.

"aye, sweetheart--th's it..."

"fuckin' hell...nnnghh...feel like bloody heaven..."

"...see you in m'dreams, luv...aghh! fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck--"

you didn't think there was anything more attractive than watching simon lose control. but you weren't doing much better. as you sucked the salt from his cock, you slid your hips over his boot to relieve the ache between your thighs even just a little. you thought maybe it was a pathetic sight, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you fit your cunt right up against him, nestling the tip of his toes against your clit so you could rock back and forth, soaking the leather with you.

simon grunted, chuckling a bit to himself as you watched you suck a little harder, a little sloppier, move your hips a little messier. you were like a sweet, doe-eyed puppy--all big eyes and soft mewls and nothing inside your head except suck, suck, suck--

you whined when he came into your mouth. you held out your tongue, massaging the middle of his cock as he dripped along your mouth, your lips, under your tongue, against your chin. and like the messy little girl you were, you kept suckling on the tip until simon gripped you by the back of the head and lifted you up off the ground, grunting as he roughly manhandled you into his lap.

"little kitty can't help herself...what a fuckin' mouth on ya..."

and then his fingers were gathering the cum on your face and slipping it back into your mouth--just as the fingers on his other hand plunged inside of you.

he was deep, thick gloved fingers taking up even more space, stretching your pulsing, gummy cunt as you gripped his shoulders and cried. little tears coming down your face as you chased that blissful high, begging simon to give it, give it, you need it.

it didn't take much. just a few rough touches of your puffy clit, and you were soaking his gloves, whining as you pressed your cheek to his and mumbled how good he felt, how everything hurt so nice.

a pounding, aching thing that was gone in a matter of seconds, throwing you in a pleasure-drunk mood, with your head rest against his shoulder and your breaths coming out heavy and languid.

your eyes fluttered, but your vision was just clear enough that you could see simon lift the front of his mask. you caught the line of deep scar, something a healed and vicious against his pretty face. then it was gone, replaced by the sight of him slipping his gloved fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, pink tongue coming out to taste them as he slurped at the gooey mess you made on them.

you saw the slightest hint of a smirk before the fabric came back down again.

"'s alright, pet--" simon's voice was low, a drawl to it that made his accent a bit more pronounced. and just as your eyes fluttered shut completely--

"'m right here, kitty."

[2tcs]

Day 3: reunions after a long time and rain

“Hay Bruce?” Duke asked as he walked out of the locker room. It was the end of his shift, thank god, so everyone was getting ready for the night shift.

“What's going on chum?”

“My cousin is coming to Gotham for a senior field trip thing next week to visit Gotham U and I was wondering if he and his friends can stay at the manor so they don’t have to pay for a hotel.”

“We’ll have to run a background check on them” “Already done!” Duke interrupted Bruce and jumped around him to get to the batcomputer to open up the files.

“Hmm. You really want your cousin to visit huh.” Bruce said as he scanned through the files.

“Ya. I haven’t seen him in ages and even though we text it’s not the same as an in-person visit. And Gotham isn’t safe for tourists so, manor.”

“Mhm, Duke?”

“Yes, Bruce?”

“Why are his and his friends' hometown labeled as unconfirmed?”

“Well, that may be one of the reasons I thought it would be a good idea for everyone to meet them? I know Tucker lives in Amity Park, Illinois. I’ve even visited him there when we were kids. But when I tried to look it up for the background check I couldn’t find it. It’s like it never existed. When I tried to ask him about it he kinda dodged my question and changed the subject. Like he was nervous about someone overhearing.”

“Alright. I’ll inform Tim about their hometown and see if he can find out what’s going on. Make sure you tell Alfried that we are having guests.”

“Thank you so much Bruce! I’ll go tell Alfried right now. Night!” Duke yelled as he ran to the elevator.

👻🦇👻🦇

“Tucker! Over here!” Duke yelled as Tucker and his friends got off the bus.

“Duke! It’s good to see you! How have you been?” Tucker said as he ran up to Duke and gave him a side hug while using his free hand to point. “This is Danny and Sam. Danny, Sam. This is my cousin Duke.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. Tucker’s told me a lot about you two.” Duke said as he accepted handshakes from Sam then Danny.

“It’s nice to meet you too Duke. Hopefully, Tucker has told you only the worst of things about us.” Sam joked.

“Of course. Hay, did you really switch out all the frogs in your freshman biology class with robot frogs?”

“Don’t remind me. Those things were so creepy. They talked to you as you cut them open.” Danny said with a disgusted face.

“It was more humane than dissecting living animals.” Sam defended herself.

“Wait. The frogs were alive? Tucker! Why was your school using living frogs instead of cadaver frogs?” Duke asked in shock.

“I got no clue man. Anyways, do we need to call a cab to get to your place? Cause I’m not walking in this downpour.” Tucker said while looking around.

“Hold on right there Mr Foley. You all need to sign these forms so we can get ahold of you in case of an emergency.” Mr Lancer said as he walked up to the group with several papers. “And I would also like to speak to your guardian before my students leave so I know they are in safe hands.”

“Ahem. I’m afraid Master Wayne is occupied with work right now but I am his butler, Alfred Pennyworth and I am in charge of taking care of all the needs of the Wayne family and their guests. If need be here is the main phone number for the manor as well as the address. Is there anything else I can do to ensure you of your students’ safety?” Alfred said as he seemingly appeared out of thin air and handed Mr Lancer a business card with the aforementioned information written on the back.

“Thank you for this Mr Pennyworth. My name is Lenard Lancer. As the vice principal of Casper High School, I have a duty to the students of our school. So I will still need these three to fill out these forms before they leave.”

“Of course Mr Lancer. I fully understand. Now if you all would please finish with the paperwork, we can load into the car and get out of this dreadful weather.” Alfred said watching as Danny, Sam, and Tucker traded off on using each other's backs to fill out the forms and hand them back to Mr Lancer.

[rememberwren]

A Complete Set (Whatever That Means) || 1

This is a direct sequel to Skin Deep which can be read here. From now on I'm splitting up any one shot that is longer than 10k. So here is part one of this sequel. 6k.

Johnny pierces fem!reader’s nipples.

About this: at least five nipples in this one, an altogether questionable use for a sequel, nipple play, graphic depiction of nipple piercings, alcohol, jealous!soap, spoilers in the 'about this' section, iffy writing. Reader has enough hair to “hold back” and height difference necessitates that she “looks up” to speak to Simon.

-

Thirty minutes waiting for Green Jade Chinese takeout when you’re only a block from the restaurant is a crime. It’s even more of a crime when it’s thirty minutes spent away from Ghost—whose name you have learned is Simon. Laying on the sofa in Skin Deep, your stomach gives another shameful growl. You glance at the clock on your phone, hoping he hasn’t run into trouble…though you’re not sure there’s much in the way of trouble that Simon couldn’t handle. 

The bell over the door rings, and you sit up, smile blooming in anticipation. 

“Hey youuu–fuck!” you nearly shriek. 

Standing in the doorway is a man who is decidedly not Simon, though there are similarities. They are both tall (though Simon must stand a hand taller), and broad (this bloke’s biceps are threatening the sleeves of his t-shirt as he crosses his arms across his chest), but that is where the similarities end. Where Simon is pale and blond, this man is tan and brunet, his hair a cropped mohawk that looks soft to brush one's fingers through. 

Looking over his shoulder is a beautiful woman with braids that drip down to her shoulder blades. 

“I tend to have that effect on women,” he says, glancing back at her. 

“I can imagine,” she says, no small hint of flirtation in her voice.

“Um. Sorry, but there aren’t any walk-ins,” you remind them. The sign had been right bloody there. Could they not read? A more important question: were they murderers looking for their next victim? In the city, one could never know if a person was malevolent or just stupid. 

“Where’s the big guy?” the man asks. He holds up a hand a few inches above his head. “Tall. Devastatingly handsome. Monosyllabic.” 

“He should be back any minute.” That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? You always let the murderers know that time is not on their side; no inconvenient prey here. Try again elsewhere. “Maybe you two could wait outside.” 

The man does a neat little trick with his tongue, flashing a silver barbell piercing at you like a calling card. “I’m the piercer, lass. I own forty-nine percent of the business. Let Ghost know I’m back with a client, alright? Nice meetin’ you.” 

The two of them disappear together behind the curtain at the back of the shop, leaving you hoping that a small hole will open up directly beneath your coordinates and swallow you whole. Hopefully it will leave the shop intact. Maybe you had the time to let Simon know not to look for your body—

The bell rings again, and this time it is Simon, his mask still pulled up over his nose and mouth, one paper bag of fragrant Chinese food tucked under his arm. He takes in the sight of you with your head in your hands, elbows on your knees and approaches with caution. 

“What’s this?” he wonders out loud. He sets down the bag and tears it open: egg drop soup, pork fried rice, crab rangoon. All your favorite goodies. A feminine giggle is heard from the back of the shop and he sighs, eyes rolling toward the ceiling.“Soap. What’d he say to you?” 

“Nothing. I just put my foot in my mouth.” 

“Yer a flexible one, aren’t you.”

“Just in that one, very specific way, trust me,” you say, accepting the disposable chopsticks he hands you. You break them apart and go looking amongst the packages of food for your rice. “I mistook him for a client and asked him to wait outside.” 

Simon sucks on his teeth, a sure-fire sign that he is trying not to laugh. 

You launch a chopstick at him, scoffing when he catches it nimbly out of the air and offers it back to you. 

“Careful with that,” he says solemnly. “Could have taken my fuckin’ eye out.” 

In the back, a scream rings out. You jerk, nearly upending the rice in your lap. Under his breath, Simon mutters: “Always Soap with the screamers.” 

-

That night, the two of you fuck at his flat. He puts you on top of him, where you can control how deep the penetration is, and it gives you a chance to explore the angles that you never really had a chance to explore with other partners. With others, it had been a race: rushing toward some blissful edge, hurrying to get them (and if you were lucky, yourself) off as quickly as possible. With Simon, you were just discovering that sex could be fun; sex could be slow; sex could end with no one orgasming and it could still change your life. 

He is an excellent sport while you ride him, his eyes quiet and soft in a way they aren’t when you’re outside of his flat together, when the mask is on and pulled up into place. If he weren’t so fucking put together, you might say that he were pussy drunk. As it is, he stays still, hands kneading your thighs until you nearly get a cramp in your hip and then he sits up, guiding you off of him and back into the bedsheets, laying face to face to fuck you in a way that is so painfully intimate it makes you want to shut your eyes. 

Afterwards, you curl up against his side and find yourself playing with his nipple piercing. He’s got cute nipples: small and pink as his mouth. The barbell is black, a nice contrast to his skin tone. He watches you sometimes, other times letting his eyes fall shut. 

“Did this hurt?” you ask him, tugging on the barbell a little. 

“Yes,” he says in that dry way that lets you know your question has amused him. 

“You know what I mean. You’ve gotten tattoos and had your ears pierced. What’s the worst pain?” 

 He shifts to touch a spot on his inner arm where a black and white skull rests. The skin is delightfully soft and thin. “This part nearly had me in tears. Barely felt the nipple, in comparison.” 

Your mouth says it before your brain comprehends it: “Maybe I should get mine done.” 

He stares at you, eyes briefly falling to your breasts. He reaches down and skims his fingers along the curve of one, his fingertips calloused but his touch so very soft. He says: “Soap did this, didn’t he?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re alone with Soap for sixty seconds and now you want your tits pierced. Are you saying that’s a coincidence?” 

You frown. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe he influenced me, subconsciously?”

“He didn’t ask you?” 

“No! He had a client with him.” 

Simon hums. His face is closed off, expression unreadable. You can sense there is more that he holds back the same way you can sense a body of water is deep, but he doesn’t share and you don’t push him, not sure if you’re ready to take that plunge yourself. 

“It was a silly idea,” you backpedal. “Forget I said anything.” 

“It’s your body,” Simon says, ignoring your words. “You should do whatever you want with it.”

“Yeah? You’d be surprised how rarely anybody ever says that to a woman.”

“Most people are cunts.” 

“True.” You reach out and thumb at his nipple again, just to satisfy the urge in your own tiny, one track brain. He takes a measured breath—for Simon, that’s as good as a moan. Your eyes flicker down, but his cock is hidden somewhere beneath the sheets. “Want to go again?”

He guides your hand down to wrap around his cock which is like hard steel wrapped in smooth velvet. 

You roll on top of him. The cramp in your thigh has faded by now. Reaching up, you palm your breasts, briefly playing with your nipples. You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly sexy, but the way he looks at you makes you feel powerful, like the sun lives just underneath your skin.

“I think I do want them done,” you say, watching the hungry way he watches your fingers. He sits up, tugging you onto your knees so he can take one nipple into his mouth and tease it with the sharp line of his teeth. 

You figure that’s as good a blessing as any. 

-

Simon tends to spring things on you. Texts are usually last minute and painfully succinct: dinner? or my place? He is prone to just showing up out of the blue, unafraid (and unoffended) to take no for an answer when you’re busy. 

One sunny fall afternoon, the thing he springs on you is Soap. Simon brings you to the shop, telling you that he needs to meet with a client. You’ve never tagged along to something like this before, but you’re beginning to think that there are few places Simon could go where you wouldn’t want to follow. Convinced you will be hiding in the back of the shop without a word to alert either of them to your presence, you agree easily enough. 

But when you arrive, that client is Soap, and instead of letting you hide in the back, Simon picks up a chair with one hand, hauling it across the room so that you both sit flanking Soap on either side while he’s in the tattoo chair getting some fancy, winged symbol just over his pec. 

“We’ve got a spectator? A voyeur?” Soap asks, rubbing his hands together. “Oh you know all my seedy kinks, Ghost.” 

“I can leave, really,” you offer, already moving to stand.

“Sit,” Simon says. 

You sit. Johnny sheds his shirt with obvious relish, and you find the artwork on the wall just over his shoulder to be incredibly interesting all of the sudden. 

Soap extends a hand to you. “The big guy still hasn’t introduced us. Some call me Soap, but beautiful women are allowed to call me Johnny.” 

You shake his warm hand to be friendly and make the mistake of meeting his eyes. They are very blue, framed by dark lashes and expressive eyebrows. He flashes his tongue piercing at you again and you jerk your hand back like you’ve been burned. He laughs. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, MacTavish,” Simon murmurs, putting a gloved hand flat on his chest to force him back against the chair. You see then that Johnny has both his nipples pierced: little golden rings that compliment his tanned skin. 

He’s fit, unfortunately.

You look back at the picture on the wall while Simon grabs the razor to shave Johnny’s pec. You learn that there’s no such thing as silence when Johnny is in the room. He keeps up a consistent chatter of conversation while Simon preps his body and lays the stencil, and it goes a long way to putting you at ease. 

“Would you hold my hand, lass?” Johnny asks, eyes big and guileless. “I’m scared of needles.”

Simon rolls his eyes, tugs his mask into place, and starts the gun without waiting for your response. The buzzing causes a visceral reaction in you, reminding you of your own tattoo that you had received from Simon only weeks ago. A craving rises up in you, tangible in your throat (and between your legs). You shift on the chair Simon brought over for you, eyes drawn to his hands to watch him work. 

Johnny wiggles his fingers at you, palm up. 

Your chair legs screech against the floor as you scoot in bursts towards him and take his hand. You haven’t even held hands with Simon yet, and here you are holding hands with his best friend. Suddenly regret has you wishing you could draw your hand back and wipe the touch away on your leggings. Unaware of your turmoil, Johnny heaves a sigh, giving you a smile that is painfully handsome. “There. Now I feel safe.” 

“You shouldn’t,” Simon reminds him. 

“Ready to tell me where your newfound generosity has come from?” Johnny asks, straining his neck to glance down at Simon’s work. “What happened to never tattooing friends for free?”

“I want you to owe me,” Simon says, voice quiet and distracted as he traces the line work. 

“You need a favor,” Johnny guesses.

“Something like that.”

“Well don’t leave me in suspense.”

“She wants her nipples done.” 

Simon lifts the gun away from his skin just in time for Johnny to jerk in the chair, head swiveling to look at you. Your own head has swiveled to look at Simon, who holds both hands up innocuously, looking not at all apologetic or regretful. 

“You want me to cop a feel of your girlfriend’s tits?”

“Don’t say it like that!” you squawk. 

“It’s true. We get very close and personal during a piercing, lass—“

“There’s a fundamental difference between copping a feel and touching my breast—“ You realize that you are still holding Johnny’s hand and you practically toss it away. 

“I’m not laying a finger on her,” Johnny says firmly, speaking only to Simon now (likely considering you a lost cause). “Period. Out of the question.” 

“I’m not letting her go to a stranger,” says Simon, brows drawn down low on his forehead. “So get over your own bullshit and pierce her, Johnny. It’s fine.” 

Johnny’s mouth shuts with such force that his teeth click together. He turns his eyes on you and stares. You feel like you’ve already taken your top off even though you’ve done no such thing. Shyly, you cross your arms in front of your breasts, giving him your best glare. It has the opposite of intended effect; Johnny’s gaze softens a little, turns pitying. 

“Alright,” he says. “Consider my bullshit over with.” 

Simon inclines his head in gratitude. He picks back up the tattoo gun.

-

“What’s the story with you and Johnny anyway?” you ask Simon over dinner. He rarely takes you out, more content to spend time alone in private rather than in public. His eyes can’t stop scanning the few people in the restaurant. Sometimes his hand reaches for his mask, instinct urging him to draw it back over his mouth and nose, but he doesn’t. 

“We met in the SAS, been friends ever since,” he says succinctly. 

“How’d you two go into business together?” 

“I was doing stick ‘n pokes for anyone who would sit still. He was piercing soldier’s ears in exchange for cigarettes. We both decided we’d rather live to see thirty, so when our time was up, we didn’t re-enlist, pooled our money, bought a location and never looked back.” 

You frown. “I didn’t know you were in the military.” 

He nods, sipping at a water (he’d refused your offer to share a pint together). You’re aware suddenly of how much there is about Simon that you don’t know. 

“Was Johnny the one to pierce your nipple?”

Simon stills for a moment, considering the question. At length he sets his glass down and says slowly: “Yes.”

“Why do I sense there’s a story there?”

“Because there is. I’m sure Soap will be thrilled to tell it with as many details as possible.” 

“Shouldn’t you tell me first, to control the narrative?”

Simon’s mouth twitches, lips quirking upwards at the edges. Coaxing one of his rare smiles from him never failed to make you feel like you were walking on clouds. He says: “You’re clever.”

“High praise.” 

“Does that do something for you?”

“What?”

“Being praised.”

You sputter a little, flustered. But then it occurs to you: “Are you changing the subject?” 

This time he grins, full and beautiful. You think about Soap calling him ‘devastatingly handsome’, and while there was a part of you that was sure the masses would not agree with your assessment of him, you couldn’t help but find Simon striking. Looking at his smile makes you smile, an unconscious mimicry. 

He catches the waitress as she comes by and asks for the check. 

-

“You look frightened,” Johnny says when he spots you as you come into Skin Deep. He’s seated on the couch where you and Simon had sex, texting on his phone. How he knows you look frightened, you couldn’t say; he hasn’t even looked up to greet you. 

“What gave me away?” you ask, feeling queasy. You’d spent half the night awake watching videos on reddit of people getting their nipples pierced feeling increasingly panicked. It looked brutal. It made no sense to stick a needle through one of the most sensitive parts of your body. But it hadn’t made sense to be stabbed a hundred thousand times by microneedles either—and you’d done that. Eagerly, even. 

“That look on your face that says you’re about to be sick,” Simon says from behind you. 

You turn and give him a tepid glare. It’s all you can muster.

Johnny leads you back through the curtain, which you cross with a muted giddiness (your first time in the back of the shop!). It leads to a narrow hallway with a few frosted doors. One is clearly marked as a bathroom. One isn’t marked at all. The last has the light on inside, turning the frosted glass a golden yellow. The writing on the glass says SOAP’S ARTISAN PIERCINGS. He opens the door and ushers you both in. 

The room is small, with a chair similar to Simon’s except for performing piercings. One wall is dominated by cabinets and drawers and mirrors, a small porcelain sink. A table holds a photobook which you make the mistake of skimming through—it’s full of clits, labias, penises, and nipples, all with a variety of gruesome appearing jewelry. 

“Ow,” you mutter, shutting the book.

“Getting ideas for your next piercing?” Johnny asks over his shoulder, washing his hands at the sink. He soaps himself up to the elbows, like a surgeon preparing to root around in your open chest. 

“No,” you say. “Definitely not.” 

Simon has seated himself in one of the chairs in the corner, his legs looking obscenely long with the way they are folded. He leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees, watching you closely. You pull a face at him just to watch the way his eyes roll. 

“Everything off from the waist up,” Soap says, tugging gloves into place. “Any allergies? Latex, dyes?”

He is much more abrupt today than he had been yesterday. You’re almost moved enough to ask him if he’s upset, but perhaps this is just his professionalism. Regardless, you miss the easy-going nature that had gone so far to put you at ease yesterday. 

“No,” you say, shrugging out of your shirt. It is warm in the room but goosebumps still bloom along your arms and chest. God, are you really doing this? Are you really exposing yourself to Simon’s best friend? You glance back over your shoulder, but Simon’s face gives no indication of what you should do. The message is clear: you have to choose. Taking a deep breath, you slide the straps of your bra down your arms and reach around back to undo the clasp, folding everything nice and neatly into a pile on the chair beside you. Your nipples immediately pucker, whether from nerves or some unwilling arousal, you couldn’t say. 

Johnny isn’t even looking at you. He’s opening up packages of frightening looking tools: scissors with clamps on the end, needles, toothpicks? “Had any caffeine today?”

“No. Wait, yes. A tea.”

“Goddamnit, Ghost. You and yer bloody teas.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not really,” Johnny says. “I’d prefer if you hadn’t drunk it, but what’s done is done. Makes the blood thinner though, you know.”

“Didn’t know that. I thought that was just alcohol.”

“Alcohol is worse,” he agrees. He glances over his shoulder, but towards Simon whose dark figure is haunting the corner of the room. His expression is sly. “Ghost knows all about that, aye?”

You latch on to this news eagerly. “Are you talking about when you pierced his nipple?”

Johnny’s brows lift in obvious surprise. “He told you about that?”

You hear the creak of the chair behind you as Simon shifts but you don’t turn to look at him. “He told me some of it?” you say, voice pitching upward at the end in question. 

“Which parts, exactly?”

“Just that you were the one who had done it.” 

“Left out all the tastiest bits,” Johnny says. “I bet he does that a lot when talking about his days with the 1-4-1.”

Your stomach dips. 

“That’ll do,” Simon says sternly from the corner. 

Johnny scoffs a little, muttering something under his breath as he arranges the tools to his liking. The silence that lingers is thick and awkward. Eager to break it, he turns to you and your tits. “Alright then. Let’s see what we’re working with.” 

You want to cross your arms more than you want to take your next breath, but you don’t. You don’t breathe either, really. Johnny stares at your breasts and then asks you to stand and come closer. Knees knocking together, you do, until you are close enough to smell his cologne or aftershave—whichever you aren’t sure. 

“Biggest question here,” he says, glancing back toward your eyes. “Are we doing one today or both?”

“Uh—both?”

“Let me bring this to your consideration,” Johnny says. “If you can’t go without playing with them, I recommend just doing one at a time. Because once I pierce it, it’s hands off for six months. No touching, no twiddling, no teasing, no twisting, definitely no tasting, I’m talking to you, Ghost—“

“Fuck off.”

“—so if that’s a dealbreaker, I recommend leaving one to play with. Stagger them. Mitigates the loss a little.”

You glance back at Ghost. On the one hand, nipple play is a favorite of yours. On the other hand, if you don’t do both today, you might chicken out and never come back. In the end, you decide: “Let’s start with one and see how I do.” 

“Yer the boss, hen,” Johnny says solemnly. He tears open a tiny package, the bitter scent of antiseptic stinging at your nose. “Any preference on left or right? Do yeh have a favorite?”

“A favorite?” 

He snorts. “Alright—which side do you sleep on?”

You say your left, so he takes the antiseptic wipe to the right breast and warns you with a brief, It’s chilly, before swiping it across your nipple. You hate every moment of it, mostly because the stimulation feels good in a distant, muted way. Teeth gritting, you wait for him to be done, even though he is a consummate professional and going as fast as he can. 

Next he takes one of the toothpicks, dips it in ink, and marks a spot on either side of your nipple where the needle will pierce. It’s more on the areola itself; you can’t decide if that makes it more or less tolerable.

“Go check the placement in the mirror, let me know if you’re level,” says Johnny, tossing away the toothpick. 

You turn to Ghost instead. “Will you be my mirror?” you whisper. 

The corners of his eyes crinkle behind his mask. He beckons you closer with two fingers, and you walk to him on unsteady legs. His hand cups your breast, careful not to touch any part that Johnny has sanitized as he looks you over thoroughly. 

“Perfect,” he mutters, almost like a curse. 

“Hey! No touching!” Johnny calls, crumpling a piece of trash noisily in his fist. He sounds irritated. “Don’t you make me sanitize her again!”

When you and Simon have finished, Johnny adjusts the chair until it is laying flat and helps you up onto it. 

“Normally I freehand most piercings,” he says. “But since this is your first, I’m going to use a hemostat clamp. Looks like this—“ He shows you the device which looks like scissors but with clamps instead of blades, holes strategically placed for the needle to be pushed through. “—and I’ve been told it hurts more than the piercing itself, so be warned.”

“I’m warned,” you whisper weakly. 

“Arm up, over your head lass.” 

He scoots his chair beside you and then gently touches your breast, the latex warm from his body heat. He adjusts the clamp and then grips down tightly, ensuring that the marked spots of ink are within the holes. It does hurt, but not as badly as you imagined. You let out a breath. You can do this. 

“Ready for the needle?���

Yeah, you can’t do this. Your other hand reaches out blindly towards Simon. After a moment, you feel his touch: hand warm and solid where he laces your fingers together awkwardly. Neither of you have had much practice in the way of hand holding—and none at all with each other—but you feel his touch all the way in your toes, and you think that’s a pretty good sign. 

“Make all the sound you want,” Johnny mutters, breath fanning across your outstretched arm. “It helps, trust me. On three. One—“

He pierces you. You suck in a breath through your teeth. “You bastard, that hurt way more than the clamp!”

“Yeah,” says Johnny, guiding the jewelry through your nipple. He looks down at you with a sad, strange smile. “I’m a liar.” 

-

You shower together that night. The shower is small for a man of Simon’s stature. Add you into the mix and it’s positively tiny, but that just means you both have to stand close together, bodies brushing against each other with each movement. He puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to the spray to let the water run across your sore breast, thumbs kneading at the tense muscles of your shoulder blades. 

You relax back against him, feeling his hard cock against the small of your back. He doesn’t do anything about it, so you don’t either. 

“What’s the verdict?” you ask him. “Do you like it?” 

“Is it important to you that I like it?” he asks, voice rumbling against your back. 

You think. 

“Yes,” you say. 

His hand comes down to ghost over your unpierced breast, cupping it in his huge palm. Your hard nipple rasps against the calluses on his hand making you shiver even in the heat of the shower. He squeezes softly, pulling a sound from the back of your throat that is lost thanks to the roar of the water against the tiles. 

His mouth brushes against your ear, lips damp: “I like it.” 

You twist in his arms, his cock dragging against your slick body, and look up at him. His hair is plastered to his forehead, a shade darker than usual. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

You guide his hand to your hair. “Hold this for me.” 

You slip down onto your knees.

-

How’s the piercing healing? Simon messages you one afternoon. Soap won’t shut up asking me about it. 

Give him my number, you suggest. 

After a lengthy silence, Simon texts: He says he doesn’t want it.

And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Maybe it was some weird piercer/client boundary he didn’t want to cross, but Ghost had come across more stringent (in just about every aspect of life) and he had had no problem crossing the tattoo artist/client boundary to text you mock ups of your tattoo. Something in your gut goes sour. Something sows itself in the soil of your heart, something thorny and unpleasant, and you don’t like it one bit. 

It’s fine, you tell him. I’m taking care of it. 

Okay, he says. And that is the end of that. 

-

The next time you see Johnny, it is Simon’s birthday. True to form, he does not make a big fuss of it, though it’s clear that this is the first birthday he has shared with a romantic partner perhaps ever. 

He genuinely seems to appreciate the Bluetooth stencil printer you bought him as a gift (he’d looked at the wrapped present like he didn’t know what to do with it, unwrapped it with the same enthusiasm as a man walking to the gallows, but when he’d seen it, he’d given one of those slow, rare grins; the crooked ones thanks to the scar across his mouth), and you silently congratulated yourself on getting him something practical over something sentimental. 

“The boys want to get together,” he says that afternoon. “I want you to come, too.” 

How could you say no to that? 

So you doll yourself up, wearing your nicest pair of skinny jeans and a sweater to keep away the autumn chill. You are giddy at the thought of meeting Simon’s other friends, so much so that you cleanly overlook Johnny’s hot and cold act. At least there will be others there to act as buffers between the two of you. 

The pub itself is more crowded than Simon would like. He won’t even take his mask off, keeping his back against the wall and eyes on the door. Not for the first time, you wonder if he doesn’t have some sort of PTSD, something leftover from his time in the service. It would make a lot of things make a lot more sense. 

You meet Kyle, who clasps your hand with both of his own, grinning so fetchingly. “Nice to meet you,” he shouts over the sounds of the pub. “Simon’s never brought a woman around before. You must be special.” 

“That means be on your best behavior, Garrick,” Simon says dryly, shifting his mask to sip at a beer—the first you’ve ever seen him drink.

“Yes, sir.” 

John arrives next. He’s older than the others, though there’s not yet any hint of silver in his facial hair. He smiles, eyes twinkling, and shares Kyle’s sentiments. It shouldn’t make you feel as special as it does, knowing that Simon hasn’t brought a woman to meet his friends before. But it does. It means something. The two of you still haven’t discussed exactly what your relationship is, but it seems clear in the eyes of everyone around you, which makes you feel a little more like you’re standing on solid ground. 

Johnny arrives last. His easy grin falters at the sight of you. He slips into the other side of the circular booth beside John and barely greets you, barely even meets your eyes. You don’t shrink, necessarily—you’re aware that you belong here, celebrating Simon, just as much as Johnny does—but you do grow quiet, your arms crossed in your lap, leaning into the warm comfort that Simon’s body beside you provides. 

The group together are downright boisterous. Even Simon comes out of his shell some as the drinks come and go, eventually tugging the mask down to rest beneath his chin. They tell stories that make you laugh, make you tear up, make you cringe, make you groan. It eases some anxious part of your heart to hear these uncensored stories, to learn more about Simon’s past straight from the sources.

It’s clear that their time spent serving together has made a brotherhood of them, and while a small part of you feels estranged as the outsider amongst this group, the larger part thinks it’s beautiful to see. 

Simon deserves this, you think, as the group gets up: some to go to the bathroom, others to the bar, others to smoke. He deserves to be surrounded by people that love him. 

You realize right there in that cracked leather booth of the bar that you are included in that.

 You’re in love with him. 

“Oh God,” you mutter, pressing your hands to your cheeks. Suddenly your head is spinning from the few shots you had shared with the others. Air. You need air. 

Not spying Simon anywhere near the bar, you take your chances of running into him outside and step out of the pub onto the cool street. There is a bitter wind blowing that has you wrapping your arms around your middle, wishing you had worn a jacket over your sweater. Resting your back against the brick wall, you stare up at the moon and think. Nothing has changed between now and five minutes ago, except that now you are a little wiser to your own feelings. A little more aware of how invested you are in this undefined relationship. You don’t need to freak out.

You just need to talk to him and figure out where you both stand with each other. It is the only—

“You followin’ me?” You jerk, startled. Johnny stands there, having come around out of the alley, crushing the remnants of a cigarette beneath his boot. His cheeks are red from the cold, hands jammed deep into his pockets. 

“What? Of course not!” 

“Alright,” he says, his agreement sounding a lot like skepticism. He moves past you toward the pub doors. 

You know that you shouldn’t. You know that for some inexplicable reason, Johnny doesn’t like you, and that you should take this at face value and leave well enough alone. But instead it makes something inside you feel needy and desperate, desperate for this closest friend of Simon’s to like you, desperate to fit it to Simon’s old life. 

“Hey,” you say, catching his wrist. “We should plan my next piercing while you’re here.” 

He visibly shakes off your touch. His eyes look back toward the pub longingly. “Yeah. Look, not much to plan, really, is there? Just let Simon know when you’re ready and he’ll text me.” 

He opens the door. For a moment, the sounds and smells of the pub spill out onto the sidewalk, but then the door shuts and it is quiet and you are alone. 

-

“Johnny doesn’t like me much,” you say to Simon on the way home. You’re driving—three beers in total had managed to make him tipsier than you thought possible for a man of his stature.

He snorts. “Soap loves everybody, and everybody loves Soap.” 

You take your eyes off the road briefly. Simon’s figure is illuminated by a passing streetlamp, turning his silhouette into something gilded where he is slumped over in the passenger seat resting his temple against the cool glass of the window. “I don’t love him,” you say, hoping you don’t overemphasize any certain word. 

Simon looks to you. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face. Not even being drunk affects the intensity of his gaze, the way it penetrates you, turns you see-through. Whatever he sees in your face must not be enough, because his head thuds as it hits the window again. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a girl who was supposed to be mine ended up being for Soap.” 

You suck in a breath, heart clenching painfully. Taking one hand off the wheel, you search for his thigh—find his knee and settle for it, stroking softly with your thumb. 

“I’m not Soap’s, baby,” you say. 

“No?” 

You shake your head. 

“Whose are you?” 

“Come on, Simon,” you mutter, face hot. “You already know.” 

“Are you mine?” 

You nod.

“Don’t say it.” 

You blink, glancing over to him. He’s watching you, eyes heavy-lidded and pitch-black in the darkness of the cab. “Why not?” 

“Because I’ll make have to you pull over.” 

-

Instead he makes you wait until he’s inside you, still feeling the rasp of his stubble against your thighs from where he had eaten you out. Then, his hands shaking, he asks you again, Whose are you? just to hear the way you chant over and over again: Yours, Yours, Yours. 

[thetxtdevil]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ New Years Event ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Firework View

Jay x Reader

synopsis: You were not in the happiest mood after a bad day at work on New Year's Eve. Irritated by Jay, who was dragging you up the stairs of your apartment building, you find out why he wasn't returning any of your calls.

content: NSFW/MDNI, smut, angst if you squint, bf.top.jay, bottom.fem.reader, business worker reader, slight fingering, dick stroking, referencing temperature play, no protection smh, p in v, let me know if I'm forgetting anything :)

word count: 1.8k

devil's note: What's this... I am an Enhypen writer now?!? Happy New Years my demons! I am honored to have collabed with the lovely @jakedustry and @hmusunoo check out their fics of the other members.

Your feet ached going up the many flights of stairs in your work heels. The concrete walls trapped the outside’s cool air in, this part of the building was a stark difference from the cozy warm lighting of the main apartment building. “Jay, why couldn’t we use the elevator?”

“Because the elevator doesn’t go up here.” You huff at his answer. You don’t know where your boyfriend is dragging you or why he was ignoring you all day. Jay stays quiet throughout the climb, leaving you in your thoughts. 

It was New Year's Eve, and you had work. You shouldn’t complain because you had Christmas Eve and Day off, but it wasn’t fair getting out of your warm bed with Jay still sleeping soundly. He looked so peaceful, having no worries about work today or tomorrow, that it made the sting of jealousy rise in your chest. But alas, you shimmied your way into your knee-length skirt and button-up dress shirt, ready to face the business world. 

Not even a few minutes after you clocked in and sitting at your desk you get a text message from Jay, “What time are you coming home today?” You smile thinking he was already missing you and you reply to the planned time you’re supposed to leave. Of course, the universe seems to not be on your side today, Jay never responded, assignment due dates were being changed, and work was piling up. You look at the tiny numbers on the corner of the screen showing ‘4:30 pm’ You groan knowing that it was past your scheduled time to clock out. Your fingers harshly card through your hair, becoming more stressed looking at the piles of papers and the many tabs on your desktop. You were going to be there for a while. If that didn’t stress you enough, your silent boyfriend made it worse. No sign of a reply from the morning, and no sign of checking in. Every once in a while Jay would text you to see if you were well, especially on his days off. He would always find time to get food and eat with you during your break. You don’t expect it every time but you thought it would be different since it was a holiday, but nothing, just a simple “read” notification.

Nicely putting the papers in their designated folders, making sure all documents were saved, and the emails were correct and sent, you rush to log out and turn the desk lamp off leaving you in the cold darkness. Typing a message to Jay on your way out of the building, your heart jumps hearing a “ping” soon after it is sent. Rolling your eyes at the simple, “sounds good,” your overthinking habit flares up, wondering what in the world he was up to. After the decompressing ride to your apartment and the sight of the tall handsome man you call your boyfriend, your anger melted away. However, it wasn’t long until that same anger came back with Jay tugging you up the last few steps showing you the door with red print, “Rooftop Entrance.”

“Jay I’m tired and cold,” you pant as you once again card your fingers in your already messy hair, “I’ve been working all day, and not to mention your ignorance.”

“I know, I know-” Jay tilts his head towards the door hiding his crooked smile. He was not proud that he ignored you, it hurt him desperately, but he had to keep today’s activities a secret. Texting you would for sure make him slip, but he was debating if he should’ve told you since you were working late, and he now had you rushing up all the apartment fire escape stairs. “I have my reasons, but it's outside.”

You furrow your eyebrow, and your aching feet take a few steps toward the door. Looking back at your boyfriend like he was crazy, you turn the handle opening to a warm atmosphere. Your eyes were big, and every single fairy light reflected on your teary orbs. Expecting to be hit with the winter’s brisk cold weather instead you were engulfed by the hot fireplace crackling by cozy patio chairs. Jay wasn’t too far behind you, a content smile was displayed on his chiseled face looking at your reaction to his work. Spinning around the rooftop, grasping every sight of the place, your lips smack as you try to find the words. “Did– did you do this?” You breathlessly get out the words.

Jay scratches the back of his head, “Yeah, I talked to the building’s owner about it and he said he’s been wanting to do something with the empty place, so that’s how I got permission to do this.” His hand releases his nervous scratch when he sees you walking towards him. You bring Jay into a big hug. He asks, “Do you like it, honey?”

“I love it,” you lift your head to look into his chocolate eyes, “but I don’t like you ignoring me.”

Jay frowns, “I’m sorry, I just wanted this to be a surprise and-” Your lips crash into his, shutting up his unnecessary ramble. Jay quickly accepts his fate and lets his words be forgotten as he deepens the kiss. 

His hands latch onto your waist massaging your tired muscles. You moan into his mouth, instantly relaxing into his arms. At that moment you knew there was nothing to be worried about with your boyfriend, thankful that you have him here in each other's arms. Then you feel his grasp inch lower to your ass and squeeze the plushness. His kisses drift from your lips to your jawline, down to your neck. Tilting your head back to give him more room to explore, you hum at the light kisses and love bites he leaves. Jay’s exploring hands loosen your tucked-in shirt making you shiver at a gust of wind flowing up your torso. Then he tugs at your skirt, bunching it up so that your panties are the only thing covering your cunt. You’re quick to hold his arms, stopping his movements, “Wha-what are you, we can’t do that here!”

Jay groans, his pleading eyes made you want to give him the world, not to mention the hard-on poking you. “No one knows about the rooftop. You didn’t.”

You bite your lip, glancing at the bland entry door and then at the cozy patio set up Jay built. Weighing your options you whip your head back to the man, “Fuck it, and fuck me.”

The biggest smirk spreads on your boyfriend's lips, a screech leaves your lips when all of a sudden Jay picks you up. Both of you giggle as you cling to him, you forget how strong your boyfriend is even though you remind him how big his muscles are. Plopped down on the couch cushion you take the moment to observe your surroundings. Above you was Jay with darkened eyes, something you’ve seen plenty of times yet it still makes your stomach do summersaults. “Was this your plan all along?”

He kisses your lips while unbuttoning your top, “I wanted a nice place to celebrate New Year's,” he says in between kisses down the valley of your breasts, “but you’re always so tempting.”

Lifting your body to help Jay unclothe you, you unbutton his top as he unhooks your bra resulting in a relaxed sigh. Garments being thrown without a care as to where they land, his lips find your perky nipple fueling the fire inside you. You instinctively close your thighs only to be stopped by Jay’s broad body in between them. Grinding against his clothed hard-on, all you could do was moan mindlessly under the man’s body.

Jay’s hand wanders down in between your thighs rubbing your cotton panties, playing with the lacey hem. “Mmm, don’t tease.” You whine becoming more desperate bucking your hips up.

His fingertips follow the lining hooking the material before dipping his middle finger within your folds, “Shit, baby, you’re wet.” Heat creeps on your face, and a cool gust streamlines between your bodies, causing your nipples to perk up and your cunt to ache. Jay straightens his posture and releases his fingers. You whimper, admiring his honey-skinned torso as he licks his fingers of arousal clean. The crisp air of the night makes your whole body shiver as he nicely tugs your panties off. The half-naked man leans down lips coming together like a puzzle piece passionately kissing. Your hand then drifts down his lightly toned abs before unzipping his trousers, grasping his hard cock. A shaking gasp spilled into your mouth signaling you to continue your actions, lightly stroking his veiny shaft and thumbing his pink tip.

“Baby, baby,” he sighs, his big hand stopping your smaller one around his dick.

“Aw- always so sensitive,” you smile at his face, a light layer of sweat glowing from the fairy lights above.

“Maybe this new year I will do better.”

You smile, “sounds like a lot of fucking,” Jay holds back a giggle to your statement, lining his tip at your gushing hole, slowly pushing in. Soft sounds disappear into the atmosphere, slightly wincing at the stretch from his thickness. He admires your contorted face, already looking fucked out as he dives deeper filling you up. Then Jay finds that spot that has your mouth gapped and fingernails digging into his biceps. Jay wants to follow apart at the feeling of your pulsating walls but you feel, look too good to end it so soon. The man above you speeds up his thrusts making sure he hits your G-spot every time. Melody of moans escapes your lips as your lower belly tightens in pleasure. Each drag of Jay’s cock had you wanting more, you lift your hips trying to match his rhythm. However, Jay wanted you just to relax and take it. Lifting your legs over his shoulders, the new position felt deeper, more addicting. Jay starts pounding into you like an animal, watching you lose it, tits bouncing, head tilting back, eyes rolled to the back of your head. It was beautiful to him, making it more beautiful as he decorated your skin with his love bites. You lift your hand to the nape of his neck, combing your fingers through his dark strands while your other hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing it hard to reach your climax. “I-ah, I’m close,” you sigh with ecstasy, Jay nods his head in agreement, releasing his harsh grip on your thigh and replacing your hand on your sensitive button with his.

The dark blue sky was now blinded by white as you came around your boyfriend's cock, soon feeling him painting your walls white. Jay collapses on you, kissing your neck calming you both from your highs. Everything was peaceful until your heart felt like it jumped out of your chest hearing a loud crack, opening your eyes, past the warm lights you see colorful twinkling sparks shoot into the night sky. Jay lifts his head watching the fireworks with you, amongst the booming sparks, distant cheers are heard all around you. Looking at your Jay’s phone on the coffee table it shows 00:00.

“Happy New Year, Honey”

Yours Cruelly,

Enhypen's Lucifer

taglist: @izzyy-stuff, @biteyoubiteme, @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[inarvii]

˚☽˚｡- AN AMPLE WAGER

Aventurine isn't one to express how he feels, but he finds himself longing and desperate when he decides to neglect IPC protocol and go on a mission alone. It's astounding what just one game of Black Jack can do.

OR

Revelations occur when you save Aventurine, and he saves you.

wc - 4.7k

Warnings - Blood, Gore, Slightly Nsfw

“What beautiful eyes.”

That’s the first sentence you ever said to Aventurine. 

Although he had just been promoted to manager of the Senior Investment Department, the IPC still considered him new. Becoming a manager meant meeting fellow managers of other departments for the first time. 

It meant meeting you, a Senior Manager of the Marketing Development Department. So he stayed over in the meeting room to introduce himself to you while others packed their stuff and fled. But you beat him to the punch. 

It was the first compliment he had received about his eyes. Others had thought them to be “unsettling” or even “bird-like.” Your words had shattered his snarky persona, and his eyebrows raised. Before he could even answer, you followed up your compliment with a question. 

“You walk around like that?” You ask, your hands grasping at papers on the meeting room table. 

Aventurine’s brow quirks, his mind puzzled by your words as he stands in front of your desk. 

You laugh, entertained by his confusion. “With your eyes for everyone to see?” 

He doesn’t respond; instead, his eyes travel over you as you walk closer to him. Your hand sneaks to his shoulder, and when your lips get closer to his ear you whisper, “Be careful now. Such pretty eyes would go for a hefty price if the right person found them.”

You pull your business card out of your blouse pocket. “They’re a privilege to look at as well.” You smile, holding the card in front of him. He takes it hesitantly. 

Aventurine watches as you walk towards the office door, seemingly having somewhere to be. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say. “Oh, and congrats on the promotion,” you wink. Then the sound of your heels click and clack down the hallway and Aventurine stares at your business card, twirling it between his fingers. 

The next time he sees you, he wears shades 

However, he makes sure to take them off when speaking to you—wanting to give you the privilege. 

At times, Aventurine thinks that there is no other place that he belongs more in than the IPC. 

Being a Manager for the Strategic Investment Department gives him opportunities like no other. Although his job was to spot depleting planets that had the potential for profit, the IPC gives Aventurine plenty of more ways to invest his time. 

Like investing in people. 

And, oh, what a great investment you were. 

He learns so much by your side. He learns what other managers to avoid in different departments. He learns how to navigate the brash personality of Diamond. He learns how to use his tongue more efficiently to get what he wants. 

Like when you kiss. 

When you touch.

When you fuck. 

It’s been different doing all those things with you. It’s never forced when it comes to you. It’s never a transaction like how it was before he came to the IPC. Oh, he learns a great deal, but it leaves him scared of the difference. He wants to kiss you. He wants to touch you. He doesn’t just want to fuck you, but he wants to make love with you. And this scares him greatly. 

But he’ll never admit those things out loud. He barely admits it to himself inside his head when his arms are wrapped around you in the middle of the night, and his thoughts begin to run in the back of his mind. Aventurine is able to adapt quickly. It just seems your gentle affection he can’t comprehend

Aventurine had gotten comfortable. 

He was too used to his position of power at the IPC. It made him forget that he was but an endangered species to everyone looking in. 

“Beautiful eyes,” the man says to him as he closes in on Aventurine, too close for comfort.  Raga was his name. His frame was built and bulky, along with the accomplice that sat on the other side of the room. Aventurine doesn’t remember his name due to the twist of dread that fills his stomach at Raga’s words. 

The compliment doesn’t sound much like one to Aventurine’s ears. He cringes in disgust at it instead of feeling the excitement when you had given him the very same compliment all those years ago. 

“Heh, why thank you, Sir. ”He reaches for his shades in his coat pocket and takes a step backward, trying to regain his personal space. 

“They’re a privilege to look at…” 

He hears your voice ring in his ears like a reminder. A privilege—he reassures himself. A privilege that the man in front of him is undeserving of. 

He flicks out his sunglasses. But as his shades reach towards his eyes, Raga grabs his wrist. Aventurine’s eyes dart upward to meet the man’s. 

“Tryna hide them from me?” 

The blond smiles sweetly, yanking his wrist out of Raga’s grasp in the process. “Such pretty eyes come with a downside, Sir.” He puts on his glasses, making sure they're snug on his face. “They’re quite sensitive.” He lies. One of the perks of being the sole survivor of an extinct race was that there was no one to fact-check him. 

“Only eyes like those can belong to a Sigonian.” Aventurine’s head snaps to the man sitting down in the chair. “And working for the IPC too?”

The bulky man looks back at Aventurine. “Well, color me impressed! A Sigonian this far from home?” He lets out a booming chuckle that causes him to almost wheeze. “Well, I guess you ain’t got none, do ya?” 

The man slaps Aventurine on his back. “I thought all y’all were all dead.” 

Aventurine forces a laugh. “Well, you get to see a miracle today, don’t you.” He'd rather not go into detail about his home, so he just continues to plaster a grin on his face.  

The man walks closer—cornering Aventurine once again. “Those eyes of yours sure are a miracle, too, huh? 

Aventurine can only glare up at the man. 

“Hey, Chidi!” The man calls. So that was his name? “How much does a Sigonian eye go for ya think?”

Aventurine’s gaze doesn’t leave the man that leers down at him when the other answers. “Not sure…but maybe we can continue our negotiation if we find out.” 

The bulky one grins. “How’s that sound?” 

“You’ve never played Russian Roulette?” There’s genuine confusion on your face when you ask. But Aventurine can’t help but eye the backside of your naked body as you try to meticulously fix your sex-ridden hair in the mirror. 

You pull out one of Aventurine’s shirts and put it on. 

“We can’t have an IPC strategist losing his bets,” you say as you sift through your clothes. “Here, let me show you.” 

The next thing he sees is your revolver in your hand. You fling out the cylinder and empty all the bullets in your hand. 

He remembers only looking at your glossy and bruised lips as your painted fingers slowly put a round into the gun. 

You give it a spin and fling the cylinder back in place with one hand as you creep onto the soft comforter of Aventurine’s bed. He can’t help but watch as you get closer and closer to him with a smirk of mischief that only The Elation would be proud of. 

Your hands grab his’ as you put the gun in his hand. Your fingers are soft—welcoming as you guide the weapon to your heart. The barrel touches your chest and Aventurine notices the small movement of your breast. 

You smile and lean towards him. His facial expression stays unwavering, but his eyes intrigued as they meet yours. 

“One in six,” you say. “A one in six chance that you’ll shed blood, take a life, end a path.” Your free hand snakes to Aventurine’s thigh, your thumb leaving soothing circles on his skin. His head tilts back ever so slightly, and he smiles. “That’s what this game is.” 

Your fingers guide his thumb to the hammer, pulling it down.

“Wanna take the chance?” You question—tilting your head. 

What a game this was. Aventurine jerks the gun from your grasp, taking the bullet out of the barrel. He chuckles breathlessly. “And here I thought you weren’t as crazy as everyone else here.” He leans back, triggering the safety on the gun. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Have to be a little crazy to be a big shot here,” you reply. Your hands replace the gun in Aventurine’s hands as you crawl over his frame.”Don't you think?” Your lips press to his cheek, his neck, and then his chest. He leans into every one. When you give him this affection, he wonders if you mean it. Or if it's just part of the arrangement you two have. 

“Why do people play this game?” He groans, closing his eyes and leaning back on the headboard. “You win nothing b-“ A gasp slips from himself after you give him a small nip on his collarbone. He tries again. ”…but can lose everything.”

You leave one more chaste kiss just below his jaw and lift your head up. “Power,” you answer. 

Your hand is still in Aventurine’s as he opens his eyes to gaze at you. Your head tilts. “If you avoided the fates of death, would you, too, not feel on par with an Aeon?”

He sighs. What a game. What a crazy and outlandish game. 

He might actually like it if he were on the other side of the gun instead of you. 

Aventurine is a lucky man. He always has been. 

He’s lucky that you’ve been paired up with him to come to this planet–he’s also lucky that you’re quick on your feet. 

He shouldn’t have come to this negotiation alone—if you could even call it that. He should have waited for you. Maybe then you both wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place and maybe then you wouldn’t be cleaning up his mess in the form of two twisted games merged as one. 

This small planet had been corrupted over the years. Its government had been rendered useless against a hate group's planned coup d’etat. Their citizens now only obeyed and obliged them. It was now yours and Aventurine’s job to either rebuild the government or eradicate the new one—whichever was faster. You both knew which was faster. 

So there you two were standing in front of this so called “Leader” as you humored him with a potential way to get the eye he apparently desired.

“I love a good game,” you had announced when you arrived.“How about we play one for it?” Your fingers gently grazed Aventurine’s eyelid, sending him a flirtatious but knowing smile. Your warning had come to fruition. 

Black Jack. 

It was Aventurine’s favorite game he had learned since becoming a Stoneheart–a freed man–a human being. He thinks it’s because it punishes those who feel overzealous but simultaneously those who are too modest. A perfect balance, he thinks.

But the men had suggested playing it differently, a way that involved more risk. The loser of each round would have to play one game of Russian Roulette. However, another bullet was added to the chamber after each round. 

How exciting. 

You both obliged. He knew that you wouldn't disagree to such an exhilarating twist on a game beloved by everyone in the IPC. However, when one of the men suggests that you be the dealer, Aventurine notices the way your lip twitches slightly. What he fails to notice, however, is the way you somberly sneak a glance at him in worry. 

The tension in the room fills the air like thick smog as the first round commences. There’s nothing but silence as you deal out the cards. 

One by one, a string of commands comes your way from each man. 

“Hit.”

“Hit.”

“Hit.” 

“Hit.”

“Hit”

“Stay.” The built man to your left says. 

“Hit.” Aventurine smiles. 

When the time comes when all must show their hands, Aventurine is the first to offer. He presents a nice even 18, and you a 20. 

Raga spreads his cards before him, showcasing a total of 14. 

You frown unapologetically. “Mmm, looks like it’s too low.” You get up from your sitting position and pull out your revolver. Everyone watches as you take a bullet and put it in the chamber, giving it a good spin. 

You stand in front of the burly man, gun to his forehead. He smiles. Oh, it’s a sickly smile. A smile that exudes hunger and madness. You smile back, of course. 

“Say, I thought your people were ones to brute force with negotiations, not play petty games.” You tilt your head expectantly. 

He laughs, the smell of liquor wafting in the air as a result. “Everyone knows the IPC ain’t ones to be messed with, pretty. Do us good to play fai-“

Click 

Theres silence. But soon follows a snicker from the other side of the table from Aventurine. He practically coos at the man’s dumbfounded expression. 

“Hmm.” You remove the gun from the man’s forehead. “Ever the lucky one,” you commend with a smirk. 

The man on the other side of the room starts to cause a ruckus, but Raga calms him down with a wave of his finger. 

He smiles. “Couldn’t have two pretty things if I were dead.” His dark eyes drift to Aventurine and then back to you. 

Aventurine refuses to let his smile drop, although it yearns to. 

The next round is then set in motion. 

Cards are dealt, drawn, and played. When the time comes for all to flip their cards over, it doesn't matter the poker faces shown throughout the round or if Raga’s hand is closer to 21 than Aventurine’s because Aventurine says one small word when he tallies up the total of his hand.

“Bust.”

His shades glint in the dim yellow light of the room, and he shows a beaming smile. Your heart sinks, but poker faces are never turned off on the clock when you are an IPC manager. So, you neatly place your own cards down and begin to stand. 

Aventurine watches as you take the gun out of your holster. His eyes follow your every move as you add another bullet to the chamber. When the chamber is flicked back in place, he smiles at you sweetly–innocently. Like this is all a game of checkers. 

You say nothing and point the gun to his heart. 

He chuckles. “Want me to suffer, huh?” His gloved hands gently meet your hand, and he moves the gun so it points at his head, the cold metal stinging his skin. 

His peacock-esque eyes put on a performance for you as he looks up through his blond eyelashes. “If my luck runs out, at least make it quick, boss.” 

His smirk is sickening, but your face stays that of a stone. You pull the hammer down and…

click 

You’re silent, but your actions speak for yourself. You quickly remove the gun from his head, causing all eyes around the room to stay lingering on you. You forcefully lighten your expression, forming a smile on your lips. “Hm.”

“What?” Aventurine questions playfully. “Did ya doubt me?” He just watches as you turn your back without a word and begin to set up the table for the next round. 

Its a quick round. One filled with few distractions. And when it’s time for everyone to flip their cards, all at the table are surprised at your hand, including yourself. 

Black Jack. 

You look around, observing the men’s hands. Aventurine smirks, his eyes practically sparkling at the outcome. He holds an almost perfect hand of 21. His opponent, not so lucky, grumbles as he slaps the deck of cards on the table–his cards only adding up to a measly 17. 

You stand up from your seat and begin to make your way over to Raga. Your fingers fiddle and twirl the bullet in your hand. The chamber opens with a clank, and you gently slide the bullet in place, giving it a good spin before closing it. 

“That’s three,” you warn. Your shoulders are squared as you aim at the man’s head. “You could call this all off now if you like.”You bend down to his level and give and furrow your brows “Is it really worth it?” You ask. 

“Think I can’t win?” He asks boldly as he puffs out his chest.

You smile sweetly. “I think bullets don’t care what your title is, Raga of the Waste.”

You pull the hammer, and Raga grins ear to ear at your smooth voice, calling him by his self-proclaimed title. That is until there’s a loud-

Bang!

Silence fills the room like no other.

Until there isn't. 

A wet noise riddled with death plagues everyone’s ears. Shock and fear fill Raga’s eyes as a gargling noise escapes from his throat. Blood threatens to make its way out his mouth as he claws at the wound in his heart. 

Your eyes widen as you watch the trail of blood escape his lips, and a small smile appears on your face. 

Maybe it wasn’t small enough. 

Because then your head is being grabbed and crushed down to the floor as screams and shouts mixed with the wet gasps of death flood your ear. 

“You bitch!”

“You knew, didn’t you!” 

“Answer me!”

The wind has been knocked out of you, but you still manage to laugh hysterically–your mind just as gone as your physical body. This angers the man, causing him to grab you by the neck, squeezing the life out of you while you’re on your back. You choke, still smiling at him. Your vision becomes blurry. Your mind hazy. Your eyes watery. You can barely even see the man’s malicious expression over top of you. 

A sudden loud noise makes you flinch, followed by a sharp, irritating ringing in your ears. A warm, wet liquid begins to drip, drip, drip on your cheek. The man’s grip on your neck begins to fade, and your vision returns just enough to see his eyes roll in the back of his head. 

The next instant, your chest is being crushed by the dead weight of the man on top of you, his body limp and lifeless. 

You gasp. Wrangled coughs begin to erupt from you as your chest heaves up and down–gasping for air. You look to your left, the sight of splattered brains and blood littering the wall behind you. The smell of iron floods your nostrils. Aventurine stands above you. His own chest heaves as his gun still points at the dead man’s body. You look up at him through your wet lashes, his gun just as flashy as him. You wonder how he was able to conceal it withou-

Bang!

He fires again. The noise makes you flinch, causing your body to jump back to reality. His nostrils flare, and there is a look of pure rage and insanity as he looks down at the already deceased man.

Then he fires again. 

And again.  

And when the last round fires into the limp man’s body, you can’t even think to react to it anymore. 

You both stay still taking in the newfound quietness–the newfound safety. There are only small breaths as you both calm down, the adrenaline leaving your bodies. 

Aventurine breathes in harshly through his nose and licks his lips. “Tell Jade…” He lifts his glasses up, resting them on the crown of his head. You watch as his hands shake as he does so. 

“Yeah…” You breathlessly agree, already knowing what he’s about to say. You squirm beneath the man’s body and lift his weight off of you.“That we’re not doing business…with this shit hole of a planet.”

He offers you his handkerchief.

You take it graciously while walking ahead of him–your strides unusually long. “Wasn’t that something?” Aventurine humors. You continue to walk as you rid your face of the almost dried blood on your face. 

Aventurine tries to catch up to you. His steps hold a slight bounce in them as he does so while readjusting the hat on his head. “You’re hot with blood on yourself,” he flirts, trying to cut the tension. “I ever tell you that?”

You stay silent and keep your pace, wiping the remainder of the blood that imposes itself on your skin. You politely hand him back his handkerchief. When it reaches his hands, he looks down at it, his eyes weary. 

“Besides the last part, you have fun?” He inquires. ”Bet you got a kick outta pointing a gun to my hea-”

There's a loud smack as the palm of your hand meets the side of his face. Silence follows, and you look down upon him as his head hands down to the side. He groans slightly as his hand makes its way to soothe the stinging pain of his cheek. 

When he recovers, all he can manage to do is look you in the eyes like a kicked puppy when his gaze lands on your mortified face–made so by his previous words. 

Your horror turns into anger as you bear into his soul before you turn and walk away without a word. 

You had taken a shower to remove the smell of iron and brain matter from your skin, but you had left the bathroom door closed, seemingly uninviting Aventurine to bathe with you. 

He waits for you patiently. When you come out clean and dressed, his hand tenderly trails to your neck in worry, the bruise becoming more visible now that your skin has been cleansed.

Your hand reaches for his. You take it away from your neck and squeeze gently. “I’m alright,” you reassure him as you lay down on the bed of the hotel room. He follows. 

He doesn’t like this, and he doesn’t like what you do to him. For Aeons' sake, you slapped him hours earlier and haven’t said a word since. 

Yet he follows you like a weak lap dog as your silence makes him more and more worried. You had struck him down and given him a look of utter disgust and horror. Hell, he might even like it if it were in the right context. But he believes he hates your silence more than being bitch slapped. 

He doesn't know what to say or how to feel, and he is clueless about how to make things right. 

So, he resorts to what he knows. Pleasure. 

Your thoughts are still processing while you lay down on your back in the cold hotel room. Your arm sprawls across your eyelids to block the sunlight that intrudes past the curtains. 

Aventurine places a kiss on your jaw. 

You let out a sigh. “I told you not to go without me.” Your voice is soft but stern, not at all reflecting the look of disgust you had given him before arriving back from the mission.

His lips travel to your neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispers softly. He tries to show it by suckling at the tender spot between your shoulder and neck, eliciting a small gasp from you. His fingertips gently trace along your neck, your soft skin now forming a bruise from the previous pressure. 

You let out a slow muffled moan. “You almost died.”

He trails small pecks down to your stomach, his hand traveling underneath your shirt to tenderly grope one of your breasts, “Hah, me? Never.” He presses his lips down to praise your skin, 

“I could’ve killed you,” you rebuttal. 

“I wouldn’t mind dying by your hands.”

“Don’t say that, please.” Your eyes are still closed, and you let out a small sigh of frustration. 

“Shh,” he murmurs as his mouth traps down to your hips, and his fingers hook underneath your underwear. 

“Kakavasha.” Your voice is sharp and in the present, as you yank his head up with your hand. You say no words, but your eyes speak for you. You don't have to do this. Talk to me. Listen to me. Your eyes beg him. There’s a hint of shock and pain in his beautiful eyes at the sound of his birth-given name. He waits patiently for you to speak, a worried expression riddling your face. 

“Don’t say that! I could’ve killed you!” You reiterate with a scream. 

“Okay, oka-”

“Why would you do that?” You question. Your own iris’ staring into his with fire in them. “The IPC needs you. You’re too valuable, and you would throw your life away?” You scream. “And let me be the cause?”

He looks at you in bewilderment. He had never seen you with this much panic in your eyes–in your voice–in your body language. You’re stiff as your hand still gently grips his blond locks. Your poker face at the time had fooled him, too. You were always calm; collected. He thought you enjoyed the game as much as he did…that is…until he started not enjoying it… 

Flashes of your face enter his mind. Replaying like a broken DVD on a loop. He sees your face turning a wild shade of blue, red, and purple, with the man’s hands on your neck. He comes back to reality, his eyes finding the bruise on your neck. 

“Me?” He questions, his voice raising, much different from his normal nonchalant tone of voice. “You act as if you weren’t dying on the floor.” He takes a sharp breath inward. After all that happened you chose to worry about him? “Be angry at me for almost getting you killed god damn it, not for playing a stupid game!” 

You let go of his hair in shock as he continues. “What the hell do you think would’ve happened to me if they found you dead and me alive?” 

It is at that moment that you both realize what you’re trying to do. You both aim to cover up your glaring emotions with selfish reasoning, to mask the wanting feeling in your chests with your calculated words.  

He’s the first to break as his voice begins to crack. “What would I do without you?” His eyes look into yours, and the weight of his question settles in on your heart. “What do you think would’ve happened to me without you here?”

You don’t answer; you only stare at him in bewilderment. He doesn't let you answer–gratefully– because you're not sure if you have one.

“And you were laughing—” he adds. His frame crawls on top of you. “Why were you laughing?” His eyes reflect the utter amazement and shock that he feels remembering your strained laughs, even in the face of death. 

With his body so close to you–with his face so close to yours, you have no choice but to answer him. 

“I wouldn’t mind dying by anyone’s hand,” you reply quietly, barely above a whisper. 

Aventurine’s own words replay in his mind as his eyes widen at your declaration. “Don’t say that!” he grunts, his hand grabbing your chin roughly. His fingers and thumb squish into both sides of your cheeks as he leans forward, his face mere centimeters from yours. “Why would you say that?” His voice is breathy when he questions you. You’ve never seen him so worked up, with so much pain in his eyes, so…vulnerable. 

He lets go of your chin and continues to stare into your eyes–a mutual level of understanding found between you two in the thick silence. A somber look. 

Both tired of working.

Of negotiating.

Of investing.

Both wearied of your lives. 

Aventurine breaks eye contact, and his head begins to sag. He whispers. “I shouldn't have gone alone. I-I shouldn't have had you fix my messes…”

“Shh, shh,” you interject. Your gentle hand travels to his cheek, where you had struck him, as you lift his head up. You usher him closer, and your foreheads meet. “You did well, Kakavasha,” you whisper softly to him. A sigh escapes his lips at the praise. “Please, be careful,” you plead. 

Aventurine nods ever so slightly. “Only if you are,” he counters, leaning forward to kiss you. His tongue slips in between your lips. It’s eager, yes. But it’s like no other kiss that you usually share with him. The ones filled with pleasure, want, and lust. Instead, it’s filled with another word that Aventurine dares not think of because it scares him too greatly. 

But there is a lingering feeling inside him that thinks you might feel it too.

Don’t date your coworkers, chat. Especially if ur both lowkey suicidal. Also, you know I had to make him say “bust.” C’mon now.

ty for making it to the end, whew. reblogs are appreciated. <3

[joonipertree]

To show someone that you care, is a gift itself. | Sugar Daddy Bakugo Series

Where you show Katsuki what a gift can be.

Tags: Artist!reader, very self indulgent, like guys....please buy me watercolour paper instead of Versace. Watercolour paper is stupid expensive. Im also not skilled enough to actually make the gift so--

Pt 1 Pt 3

Katsuki's birthday had been looming when the two of you started going out, like a weighted shadow. You had spent a very long stressing about what to get him with a budget that wasn't even worth a fraction of what he would buy you.

But, like gift giving was Katsuki's, it was your love language as well. And you'd gotten good at getting heart felt things for people. Admittedly, it took a lot of brainstorming and notes upon notes of what to get.

You'd always go overboard to please the people you cared about, afraid that they'll leave if you didn't cross the limits and bend over backwards for them.

Katsuki had always taken care of you, never asked for anything and your love was returned albeit in a quieter and tsundere manner. So the urge to go above and beyond didn't fester for long, knowing that your bare presence made him warmer.

Your gift idea came when he was on the ring, swift on his feet and solid in the rigidness of his body. You'd brought your sketchbook and while you wanted to keep your eyes on your boyfriend, your hands became busy with large curves and sharp flicks of your pencil that brought dark edges .

You'd made at least 20 quick gestures drawings that were more crude representations of movement for you. But with those and the feelings you trapped in your heart, you made thumbnails and chose one to draw large scale.

One where Katsuki's face was partially blocked by his arm and he gave a blow. His elbows were jagged, muscles taut and rippling. And his eyes sharp and cat like.

The charcoal pencils and sticks used to create tapered lines to create hard surfaces was 340 yen. The watercolour pallete used had messy paint splattered everywhere and its lid broken, having been with you for a good while. The coat over the charcoal was 50 yen hair spray that worked just as well as professional sprays.

It didn't cost a lot but your hands were full of care and by the end of it, you hoped that it'd be something Katsuki would at least like. The man could have the world but all you had was you.

You didn't realize that you were more than enough

Katsuki to lost his voice when you handed it to him at midnight, eyes wide as he stared at him but not him. The layers on layers of paint held emotions that he could only describe as love, meticulously hand picked and felt in strokes. He'd seen HD pictures of his fights, seen videos of them where his sweat and pores were as clear as day. The most he'd thought of them were how his form could improve or how cool he looked.

But what you made, it twisted something in his chest and stung his eyes and filled him to the brim with love so warm and overwhelming that his body wasn't big enough to hold it.

You two had been dating for 4 months, Katsuki had spent that time falling in love with you in ways he didn't think possible. He'd fall with every giggle and kiss and ramble and your face when you were concentrating. He'd never said 'I love you', hoping his actions showed it enough, still too scared to speak it in case it was met with hesitance or silence.

But Katsuki had gently put down the canvas, something you that you'd built, stretched and primed yourself. And while you made eye contact with the walls and ceiling, you explained how the only thing you could come up with was the painting, that you wanted to capture the emotions you felt when you saw him fight. That it wasn't much but---

Katsuki had engulfed you in a hug, hand on the back of your head to press it against him and an arm around your waist. He squeezed you, tried to express all that he was feeling with one hug alone. You felt it, held him tightly and carded your fingers through his hair. With his shoulders shaking, you had an inkling that he had been crying. When he spoke, with a wobbly voice, you were sure that he was.

"I love you." He'd muttered out for the first time.

"I love you more." You whispered back and Katsuki had firmly denied it, that no one could love a person as much as he loved you.

Getting a gift for you became hard after that, because Katsuki sucked at making shit.