#Can my phone sense humidity?

[suchananewsblog]

Explained | What is relative humidity and why does it matter on a hot day?

Relative humidity is a easy idea as climate phenomena go – however it has important, far-reaching penalties for a way we should care for ourselves on a hot or moist day. Humidity is the quantity of moisture within the air round us, and there are 3 ways to trace it. The most typical of them is absolute humidity: the mass of water vapour in a given quantity of the air and water vapour combination,…

[syllikins]

"𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐑?"

❀ genre: fluff

❀ pairing: sylus x reader

❀ contains: mutual pining, sylus down bad, yucky vulnerable feelings (jk i love him so much for this reason), reader in denial (sorry guys), poorly proofread

❀ word count: 1.03k

❀ authors note: i'm taking a crack at this. but omg that scene where he tells mc there is no love purer than his after he asks if she finally realizes how he feels about her? COME ON. HOW CAN I NOT LOVE HIM?? had to write something inspired by that dialogue because it was so????? i'm definitely going to reference to some other stuff he has said in the game that made my heart flutter because?????

"there is no love purer than mine."

is a statement that has been replaying in your mind over and over again since that day.

you couldn't help but wonder if sylus lacks self awareness because how can you actually pinpoint his feelings when every conversation the two of you engage in seems like a ploy for his own entertainment.

every pointless banter. every teasing remark. every sickeningly corny nickname that unfortunately sounds like honey whenever it left his lips. maybe you ignored his childish attempts at flirting because you were too busy ignoring the ticklish feeling it gave you in your heart down to your toes.

sylus may make your eye twitch or send a small twinge in your brain with every smartass comment he feels he has to belch out: but maybe that's part of his charm. he mainly gets away with it with a face like that.

but your developing feelings for sylus was far more emotional than it was physical.

maybe it was the way he was always ready to lock in when it really came down to it.

the two of you being around each other always ended up with you or him being hurt. sometimes both. and if not either of you, chaos ensued. maybe a building was blown up instead. it was fun but it was times like those when you learned about sylus in a slightly more intimate way. it took a few deep gashes and heavy panting, near death experiences and stitches. but he needed your help. you liked that he could at least admit that. he saw you reliable enough to call on you when he was most vulnerable. and he helped you in the same way, despite protest.

he likes to hold hands. but it's not just his fingers intertwined but more like your hearts tangle more than your fingers. it was nice...he may mean it to be authoritative but there is always an underlying sense of comfort in his fingertips.

maybe he was a vampire. as you had previously joked. silver hair. red eyes. that inexplicably gorgeous face. pale skin that would automatically show any trace of lip gloss or lipstick that he would have obtained by getting a bit too close while attempting to tease you. that allure that often times makes your head go numb before you're brought back to reality by another witty comment.

you were more than enthralled by him; you realised as you laid in bed a few nights ago.

now he just makes you nervous. why would he say that?

there is no love purer than his?

and it's all for you?

it all feels like too much.

he calls and you stare at the caller ID before choosing to nervously accept the call. not before you start a petty argument.

but even among his arrogance, and the chirp in his voice when he engages with you, he's still sickening sweet. slipping in how strongly he feels about you in between every other colourful retort of yours or so. gosh. could he not?

after you pathetically stutter through a smartass comment of yours, his amused chuckle has you fighting the urge to chuck your phone. so you just hang up instead. maybe you just need to go outside. that should calm you down.

the warm yet slightly humid summer night air hugs itself against your slightly trembling form, a small fire lit in your heart as you walk down the empty sidewalk in pyjamas.

no one is around. all the stores are closed. it's just you and the street lights as you murmur about all the things you don't like about him in an attempt to kill the light in your heart, this light giving you an odd sense of pleasure. to no avail, your rambling on seems to make the light grow. and a small buzz on your leg.

in your pocket.

he's calling again.

you stare at it this time. its like you think the loving feelings pouring from your pores will tap the accept button for you. this doesn't last long before you shake your head and put the phone back in your pocket. you continue walking, eyes kept on the sidewalk as you weigh the pro's and con's of accepting such feelings.

*thud* you've hit your head on something.

the familiar scent in your nostril already tells you what- more like who it is.

it's obvious he used his evol to just appear in front of you. or else you would have seen his shadow underneath the streetlight you're under before your forehead met his chest.

the mere thought of it being him before even seeing his face is enough to get your stomach to flip, so you flip yourself in the other direction. then he wraps his hand around your wrist but he never seems to forget to add the electrifying part.

your free hand twitches as he intertwined his beautiful fingers with yours, the linking of both your pointer fingers keeping you together.

the silence among the song of cicadas makes you bite your tongue, anticipating a smart, playful retort. and yet amidst your baited breath nothing.

your heart beats in your ears as his warmth lingers on your fingertips. the two linked fingers generating the most heat.

"gosh, would you stop tormenting me already?" you whisper.

"is that what you think this is?" his voice echoing in the street.

you're both silent for a moment. yet neither of you make a motion to separate the linked fingers.

"your love...in it's purest form..."

another silence.

"it belongs to you." he finishes

you turn to him, still staring at the pavement.

"my love....." you began.

he seems to be holding his breath as you fidget in front of him. you attempt to make your slippers overlap or something to that effect as your palms get sweaty.

"is just as pure as yours." you breathe out in something like a scoff.

even now you're trying to challenge him

"and i want you to have it."

 when you utter that last bit, you look him straight in the eyes.

he exhales and accepts it with no hesitation.

in his arms, where both your hearts tangle.

© syllikins 2024

[whatifitis]

♡ Close To You - CL 16 ♡

Summary: You haven't seen your boyfriend in months and you want to make up for lost time.

Author's Note: If this is terrible, I'm sorry. Feedback is always appreciated. :)

MDNI

CW: p in v sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, a bit of pain kink if you squint

WC: 2809

It has been months since you’ve been able to see your Charles. The two of you have had chaotic schedules the past few months where the only time you guys could have together was for an hour at most on phone calls or video calls. 

But today is finally the day, after working on a grueling project at work for months, you can finally have some time off to go visit your boyfriend who is currently working in Singapore. 

The Singapore GP is this weekend and you’re ready to spend so much needed time with your love. You have missed him more than words can describe. These past few months have felt like you’ve been missing something. You were always able to sense when something was wrong with him, immediately calling him to check on him. And he was able to do the same for you, always calling at the right time. 

By the time you go to your shared hotel suite, Charles was still out and about, probably in some team meetings to get ready for the weekend. You took the time to organize your belongings in the hotel room and took a much needed shower after your 14 hr flight. 

After your shower, you put on some music as you scrolled through your phone when you heard the door to the suite beep, letting you know that Charles was finally back from his outing. You immediately stood up from your spot on the couch, shaking with excitement to see your love after too long apart. 

Once Charles had turned the corner into the room, he locked eyes with you and practically ran to you. Engulfing you in his arms. Warmth enveloping you and locking you against him. You wrap your arms around his neck and beg god that you’ll never have to be apart from one another again. You take a moment to take everything in. The warmth of his body on yours, the smell of his cologne mixed with a bit of musk from him being out all day, the dampness of his hair from the humidity outside, as you run your fingers through his hair.  You feel his fingers dig into your sides a bit, as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real and not a figment of his imagination. It’s really you. 

“I’ve missed you, ma cherie.” he says into the crook of your neck, still not daring to let you go. 

“I’ve missed you too, my love. So much.”

You feel his arms hold you tighter to him as he says, “Please, never let us be apart for that long ever again.”

“Never again.” you reply, both of you knowing damn well you can’t make that promise, but as long as you can come home to each other at the end of the day, it’s okay. 

Charles pulls back from you a bit, just enough to see your face. Oh how he’s missed being able to see you in person, with his own eyes and be able to feel you beneath his fingertips. Being able to count your freckles himself. Being able to see the sun shine through your brown kaleidoscope eyes. 

He brings his hands to both sides of your face, gently holding you and rubbing his thumbs against your rosy cheeks. He leans forward a bit, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. The two of you stay there, savoring the moment as you’ve been waiting for it since the last time you’d seen each other. His lips feel warm against yours, reminding you of home. Him being your home. The safest place you’ve ever known. 

He gently pulls back before wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, tangling his hand in your hair and pulling you back to his lips. He’s kissing you like he’s been deprived of life. He licks your bottom lip, asking for permission before sliding his tongue into your mouth. Charles tightens his hold on you, angling your head better so he can explore your mouth. His tongue fights against yours, his teeth nipping at your lips, causing a moan to slip free from you. You feel him smile against your lips. 

“S’il te plait, mon coeur. Let me show you how much I missed you.” Charles says as he slowly guides you towards the bed, til the back of your knees hit the edge, making you sit on the edge of the bed. You look up as your love towers over you, looking at you with so much adoration for you, it’s hard to believe that someone could love you so much. 

He begins to kneel in front of you, maintaining eye contact with you. He places his hand on your knee, then the other hand does the same. Slowly moving up your thighs, you can feel how warm his hands are against your skin. His hands move up till they reach your hips, silently, he grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head to reveal your bare torso. Goosebumps cover your skin from the change in temperature you feel and from the way Charles looks at you, as if you aren’t real. 

Charles gives you a deep kiss on your lips, then slowly starts pressing a trail of kisses down your body. From your cheek, to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breasts, down your stomach, all the while his hands roam your body, feeling every part of you. When he reaches your shorts, his fingers intertwine with the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them down as you lift your hips to help him pull them all the way off. You move back, laying on your elbows as you watch him admire the sight in front of him. His beautiful love, laying back as graceful as a goddess, legs spread, showing him how he affects her. Your cunt was slick and glistening, one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen. 

He lightly drags a finger through your wet cunt, collecting some of your slick. He lightly pressed a finger against your clit, making you shudder under his touch. Your breathing becomes shallow as he keeps drawing slow circles on your clit. 

“Please, my love.” you beg. 

“Please, what?” he asks, looking at you with a cheeky grin.

“Please, give me more. I need more.” 

Who is he to deny his girl, he’s practically wrapped around your finger without you having to do anything. 

Charles puts one hand on the side of your abdomen while the other reaches up to your breasts, softly massaging as he connects his lips to your clit with a feather light kiss. You move to lay on your back, trying to maintain control over yourself as you fear this will end sooner than you want. You feel his tongue flatten against your core, licking your cunt and making your stomach flutter at the feeling. He can see how you’re already enjoying yourself and he wants nothing more than to give you everything he has. He delves into you, digging his tongue into you, loving the moans slipping free from your mouth. 

He’s eating you out as if he’s a starved man, finally getting a taste of the most divine being of all time. Your taste is his favorite thing in the world and he feels so lucky that he’s the only one who will ever get to know you like this. He groans at the knowledge that you belong to each other, the vibration making the pleasure you feel ever so blinding. You reach your hand to the back of his head, pushing him deeper into you, his nose is pressing into your clit as he grabs a hold of your hips, moving them to an angle that draws the breath out of your body. You’re gasping for breath as he’s relentless, not giving you, nor himself, a moment to breathe. 

The feeling of his head between your legs, his mouth on your cunt, is enough to drive you crazy. But still not enough. 

“More.” you’re begging, “please, I need more.” 

It’s not long before you feel Charles replace his mouth with his fingers in your cunt. His two fingers plunge into you, filling you and making you gasp. His fingers are pumping in and out of you as he uses his tongue on your clit, you succumb to the pleasure his tongue draws out of you. Your hand runs through his hair, gripping his hair, causing him to hiss from the pain, but he loves it all the same. The pain makes him enjoy himself more. 

You’re a moaning mess, practically writhing on the bed as you feel yourself grow closer to the edge. Your body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, your body so heated from the pleasure you feel. You’re rolling your hips into him, grinding against his fingers and mouth as his movements become faster. You feel the rope in your stomach tighten as you come closer and you try to warn Charles but the pleasure blinds you, leaving you breathless, making your body tense from the intense orgasm. Charles keeps lapping at your cunt with his mouth and pumping his fingers slower to help you come down. 

Charles lifts himself off your clit, removing his fingers from your core slowly. He’s so mesmerized by the way you’re dripping and looking so fucked out. He stands from his spot on the floor, looking down at you, your hair is sprawled on the bed, eyes a bit hazy. He moves to lay over your body on the bed, placing one arm near your head as the other comes up to his mouth. He licks one of his fingers clean of your mess, groaning at the way you taste. He brings his other finger to your lips, “Taste yourself, taste how good you are.” that's all he says before you wrap your lips around his finger, sucking it clean. 

He moves his finger from your mouth, staring deeply into your eyes for a brief moment, before capturing your lips in his. You can taste yourself in his mouth. You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, and you can’t help but see the bulge in his pants, feeling bad that you haven’t done anything for him. But you still want more with him.

“Take off your clothes.” you tell him bluntly. 

“What?” he looks at you confused but still amused. 

“You heard me, take off your clothes.” you smile. 

Without another word, he stands up, removing his clothing one by one. You sit up and watch him, watch how his toned body moves, how the light and shadows move through his body. He takes off his underwear, revealing his hard cock, the tip red and already covered in precum.  You motion for him to sit next to you and he does. Once he’s next to you, you go to straddle him. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. You bring your arms around his neck, moving in to kiss him. The kiss isn’t aggressive or fast, it’s soft and slow, as the two of you enjoy this moment together. Trying to make up for lost time. 

Without breaking the kiss, you move one of your hands to wrap around the head of his cock, using the precum to your advantage. With a light twist or two around his tip, you move to lightly grip his shaft, stroking him till his head rolls back. You keep doing this for a minute before lifting your hips, aligning yourself with him. With your other hand, you move to grip the juncture between his shoulder and neck to balance yourself. You watch his face as you slowly sink down onto him, watching as his eyes flutter shut, mouth gaping open. His grip on your waist tightens as his body washes over with a sense of pleasure. 

You relish in the way he fills you, emotionally and physically. No one has ever or could ever make you feel the way he does, whether it’s in bed or not. No one’s ever had you, not like him. He sees every part of you, and still loves you with all his heart, his whole being. Through every fault, he’s still there. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 

You sink down until you reach his hilt. Both of you releasing the breaths you didn’t know were being held. You sit there for a moment, neither of you moving so that you can adjust to him. Your body feels warm because of the way your bodies mold together, after feeling cold for so long with him being away. Your pussy feels like it’s burning, not being used to the feeling of him again. 

Charles breaks the silence, “Ma cherie, please move. I need you to move please. Make me feel good again.” 

His breathing is already heavy, not being able to keep himself together at the feeling of him inside you. You slowly move your hips up, before slamming your hips back down onto his, making your boyfriend let out a moan. Both of you are reveling in the feeling of being together again. 

You continue bouncing on him, your throbbing pussy warming him. His attempt at keeping it together is slowly going out the window as you continue to grind on his dick. His breathing is becoming erratic. He can feel your legs grow tired so he moves his hands to your ass, digging his fingers into them, you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. He continues helping you ride him. He can feel some of your slick dripping from your pussy, rolling down to his balls. The feeling drives him mad with lust. It’s taking everything in him to not flip over your bodies so that he can be in control and fuck you. But selfishly, he doesn’t. 

He loves being able to watch you. Watching your face as you ride him, how your tits bounce in his face, the way your stomach tenses as you get closer to finishing, watching as your eyes become hazy, rolling to the back of your head. He loves hearing you moan into his ear, his favorite sound in the world. 

His breathing is getting more erratic, he’s growing louder as he’s nearing the edge, trying to hold on until you cum as well. He’s getting desperate, holding onto your body so tightly, feeling your nails dig into his shoulders, listening to you chant his name over and over again as the sheets beneath him feel ablaze. 

Your bodies stick together as you keep riding him. You get lost in the feeling of him. You close your eyes as you start seeing stars and mumbling incoherent words. 

“Baby, please. I can’t hold it much longer, I need to cum.” he whines, biting into your shoulder, trying to keep his composure, trying to wait for you. 

You take one of your hands to your clit, trying to draw fast circles on it. 

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m trying.” you say, embarrassed that it’s taking you longer to finish since you haven’t been together for months. 

“It’s okay. Don’t ever apologize for that. I love you so much, baby. Just keep going. Let me help.” he encourages through gasps of air. 

He moves your hand from your clit, replacing it with his own to help you to the edge. You can already feel yourself getting closer and closer. He’s always had a way with knowing your body. 

It’s not long until you’re both right at the edge of release. You’re teetering on the edge when Charles starts fucking up into you and says, “Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

With that, you feel yourself fall into a deep pool of pleasure. Your vision blackens and all you can do is hold onto him, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck to keep yourself from falling apart. You quietly chant his name through your orgasm. 

The way your pussy closed around his dick, sent Charles into his own pleasure. He keeps fucking into you through his release, letting moans of your name slip free. 

Both of you hold onto each other as you try and come down from your highs. Both of you breathing heavily when you rest your forehead on his. 

You pull back for a moment, looking into those beautiful eyes. Your favorite colors all in one place. You bring your hand to grab his jaw, tilting his head and gently capturing his lips in yours. You stay like that until Charles breaks the kiss, looking at your blissed out face. He opens his mouth and says, “I don’t have wings, and I never will. But if these heights should bring my fall, I only pray, don’t fall away from me.”

[planet-mabel]

book thief - niall horan

an: hellooo!!!! i was reading at the beach and could not get this idea out of my head so HERE WE ARE!! i hope you enjoy :) I'm cooking up part two right now

summary: a trip to bora bora leads to bumping into niall horan by the pool and accidentally swapping books!

wc: 1.8k

what i was listening to:

As I disembark from the plane, weary from the long flight and craving a good meal, I step into the Bora Bora airport. I've treated myself to a solo stay at a delightful resort here for the week, and the anticipation of this moment has been a beacon of joy during my busy days back in NYC. I yearn for some well-deserved relaxation, as the incessant bustle of New York's streets and blaring car horns can be overwhelming at times. As I make my way towards the baggage claim area, I take a moment to savor the view from the airport windows. Though it's just a glimpse, I can see fragments of swaying palm trees, and a sense of tranquility washes over me. Leaning against the baggage trolley, I pause, eagerly awaiting the familiar "beep" that signals the arrival of our luggage.

I catch sight of my obnoxious purple suitcase as it comes around the conveyor belt and quickly snatch it before heading over to the shuttle bus waiting to take me to the resort. After stowing my suitcase in the overhead compartment, I sink into the luxurious seat on the bus. While waiting for the other passengers to board, I take a moment to text my friends and family to let them know I've arrived. The bus engine roars to life as we set off down the road. I glance up from my phone and out of the window, cranking up the music in my headphones. I take in the beautiful scenery as we wind our way toward the resort. Looking around at my fellow passengers, I notice that they are all families and couples. A faint feeling of loneliness creeps in as I realize I'm traveling alone.

I let out a deep sigh, gazing out of the window at the serene, azure skies and the gentle, rhythmic dance of the palm trees swaying in the breeze, attempting to distract myself from the overwhelming sense of isolation.

As the shuttle comes to a stop at the resort, the passengers begin to disembark, and I patiently wait for my turn. Once off the shuttle, I make my way to the front desk with my bags, eagerly anticipating some rest and relaxation in my room. I provide my name and reservation to the woman at the front desk, and the concierge swiftly arranges for my bags to be taken up to my room. The humidity of the Polynesian air causes my t-shirt to cling to my skin as I wait. 

While the woman prepares my room key, I glance at a man nearby who is also checking in. His accent intrigues me, and I find myself admiring his appearance. I'm momentarily lost in thought until the woman's clearing of her throat brings me back to the present. After receiving the room key, I exchange a tight smile with the woman and mutter a quiet 'thank you.' As I head towards the elevator, I briefly meet the man's gaze before pressing the button and entering the elevator. I select the third floor, my hand tightening around the room key as the elevator ascends.

I stumble into my room, weary from the day's travel, and collapse onto the plush duvet covering the bed. Propping myself up on my elbows, I take in the surroundings. The TV faces the foot of the bed, and a familiar mini fridge rests beneath it. To the side, a closet is built into the wall, and opposite that, a sleek desk catches my eye. Across from the entrance, a sliding glass door beckons me to venture out onto the petite balcony. I rise to my feet and make my way to the small mezzanine, stepping outside to be embraced by a balmy breeze and a mesmerizing vista. I pause, closing my eyes, letting the scenery wash over me.

After re-entering the room, I gently closed the door and made my way to the luxurious en suite bathroom. I marveled at the elegant plumbing and the spacious, extravagant shower. I couldn't help but let out a whistle of admiration, feeling impressed by the lavish amenities, almost forgetting that I had only booked this place for a week but paid the equivalent of a month's rent.

I let out a contented sigh and realized that I deserved to unwind by the pool for the rest of the day. Without bothering to unpack, I quickly slip into the first bikini I lay my eyes on - a vibrant, eye-catching pink one. After ensuring that I'm thoroughly coated in sunscreen and throwing on a comfortable t-shirt for extra coverage, I grab my purse and the book I've been meaning to read. As I make my way out, I return to the elevator and descend back down to the lobby.

I hurry downstairs and make a beeline for the pool, scanning for an unoccupied, plush reclining chair. As soon as I find one, I eagerly lay down my belongings beside it, exhaling contentedly. After slipping on my sunglasses and discarding my t-shirt, I settle back, flipping through the pages of my book to pick up where I left off during the plane ride. The book in my hands is 'Violet Bent Backwards over the Grass' by Lana Del Rey. It may seem a bit unexpected for a beach trip, but I have a fondness for poetry and adore Lana Del Rey, so I thought it was worth a chance. Immersing myself back into the pages, I lose track of time, captured by the words on the pages.

I slowly rise from my lounge chair, feeling the stickiness on my back from the sun's rays. Deciding it's time to take a break from tanning, I toss my book onto my chair and head towards the glistening pool to cool off. As I settle by the water's edge, I take in the mesmerizing sight of the swirling pool while dipping my toes into the refreshing water. Surprisingly, the area is deserted, giving me the perfect opportunity to submerge myself in the pool. I resurface, gently wiping my eyes before reclining on my back and savoring a tranquil moment, finding relief from the intense heat of the island air.

I emerge from the water, climbing the steps in the shallow end. The droplets slide off my glistening skin as I make my way to my chair. As I approach, I notice a man sitting in the chair next to mine. I recognize him as the guy I saw in the lobby, engrossed in a book. I glance around at the empty seats on the pool deck, wondering why he chose the one next to me, and furrow my brow in mild irritation. Despite my annoyance, I take a moment to study his appearance. His unkempt brown hair and pointed nose catch my attention, as does the way his scruffy stubble complements his deep blue eyes. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I finally reach for my towel. I clear my throat to catch his attention and he looks up from his book, smiling softly. He gestures to the book in his hand and I immediately clock it as ‘Violet Bent Backwards over the Grass', the same one I’m reading. I glance down at my chair in search of my copy, not completely sure he didn’t swipe mine. I clear my throat to capture his attention before speaking.

"Excuse me?" I managed to pipe up, my voice a blend of nervousness and amusement. "I think that might be my book." With my towel wrapped tightly around me, I glanced down at him. He met my gaze and then looked down at the book in his hands before responding.

"Oops, my mistake," he chuckled and handed the book back to me. "I noticed it here and thought someone must have left it behind. The title seemed intriguing." I reclaimed the book and settled back into my chair. "I didn't even realize you were here, geez. If I had known, I wouldn't have sat so close." His over-apologetic tone made me chuckle softly.

"No, it's okay. I'm traveling alone, so I appreciate the company," I assured him, readjusting in my seat. "Have you read it? It's a good book, isn't it?" I say enthusiastically as I glance back at him, thumbing through the pages again. He nods before replying.

"Absolutely! I can't resist a well-crafted poem," he responds with a nod, gesturing toward the book of poems resting on the arm of his lounge chair. I let out a soft chuckle in response. 

"Ah, cool. Nice to meet another poetry enthusiast," I say with a smile before returning my attention to my book. I sense his persistent gaze on me before he speaks again.

"You mentioned you're traveling alone?" he inquires. "So am I." I look up from my book, slightly puzzled. 

"You? Why's that?" I ask, marking my place in the book and placing it on my lap. 

"You first," he counter-challenges. 

I shrug before responding, "Just needed a break. New York can be overwhelming at times, and none of my friends were up for splurging on a vacation," I explain, gesturing dramatically. "So, here I am, flying solo." I give a somewhat forced grin, and he chuckles. 

"Same here," he remarks, leaning back in his beach chair. "You mentioned New York City? Sounds exciting," he comments. I nod slightly.

"Yeah, mostly. How about you?" I inquired, curious to confirm my suspicion about his distinct accent. 

"Dublin," he declares proudly. "Dublin, Ireland." I raise an eyebrow. 

"So that's where the accent comes from," I remark slowly, raising an eyebrow. 

"I don't have an accent; you have an accent," he retorts playfully, feigning a scowl, which elicits a soft giggle from me. He grins at me, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

"Well, I should head back to my room. The chlorine always does weird things to my hair," I say with a soft chuckle as I pick up my bag and wrap my towel around my waist. He sits up in his beach chair to look at me.

"Hey, let me buy you a drink later," he suggests, gazing up at me. I take in his shirtless form reclining on the chair in front of me and for a moment, I struggle to find my words.

"Um, well, okay," I say hesitantly before regaining my composure. "Yes, that sounds good." I offer a soft smile, trying to conceal my unease. 

He nods and continues, "I'll see you at eight at the hotel bar." He stands up and I nod in response. 

an"I'll see you, book thief," before giving a small chuckle and walking from the pool deck back into the lobby. As I leisurely make my way back to the door, I hear his quiet laughter echoing behind me. A grin spreads across my face, and in that moment, I feel as lighthearted and carefree as I did in my teenage years.

[thekombuchagirl]

CODE ZERO

Summary: It was an ordinary humid sunday of June until it wasn't. Of all things you expected to happen in the summer of '25, preventing the spread of another epidemic wasn't one. Locked in the pantry of a cafe with a masked stranger, all you could hear outside were animalistic groans and the occasional crackle of breaking bones. Just when you thought that the last moments of your life would be sitting across an intimidatingly hot man, a table flips, literally.

Pairing: discharged soldier!yoongi x fem journalist!reader

what to expect? gore, zombies, banter in the face of death, explicit language, yoongi walks around in a tank with a manbun for a whole day, reader develops a liking for smashing skulls halfway through the story, sexual tension that can be cut with a knife and eventual smut

Age rating: 18+ mdni!

Tags: @ktownshizzle @mysteriousgeminizone

chapter warnings: gore, graphic description of violence, mentions of death, cursing

a/n: hello! thank you so much for reading my story and if you can take a minute to drop your valuable feedback that would be even more amazing!

C H A P T E R O N E

"No network, nothing at all. Can you check yours once again please?"

You looked expectantly at the man sitting by the door. His mask was now hanging on his chin and it had been irking you for a while. Why wear a mask at all if it is not actually masking anything? But you let it be since he was the one who saved you from whatever was happening outside and he looked awfully familiar. The more you looked at him the more familiar he looked but you couldn't put a finger on where exactly you knew him from. He didn't seem to think the same for you, however.

"For the seventh time in the last ten minutes, no. There is no network. Not in yours. Not in mine. Because it has been shut down."

He spoke in small sentences, pronouncing each word like he was speaking to a child. It only annoyed you further. You weren't asking to play games on his phone or something. You were asking because there was something out there that was making people rip each other's skin like paper and bite off their flesh. It was probably the end of the world and the man in front of you was unbothered and even annoyed at your very obvious concern.

"How do you plan to get out of here then? We can't call for emergency services-"

"Out of here? Emergency service? Woah," he slid up against the door, dusting his arse and for the first time since you encountered him, broke into a fit of laughter. "Do you think the government people will come to save you with those things out there? The ministers are probably out of the country by now and the town is under lockdown. The end of the world shit is only for the ordinary folks. For people like us. When the world ends for us, it is just renovation for them."

The nonchalance was gone instead his dark eyes were suddenly filled with fury. You hated to admit it to yourself but he was right. The government was going to do no good any time soon and you knew it, more than anyone else. But you didn't like his tone. You didn't like how he was talking down to you from the beginning for no reason. All the points that he won for saving you were exhausted. So it didn't take you a lot of effort to match his tone.

"So what? We just sit here waiting for those things to break in eventually and then what?"

He stared at you wordlessly. When his nonchalance had dropped, that was the first second of satisfaction for you. Now that he was staring at you silently, you felt that satisfaction grow in you. It made no sense for you to be that petty in that situation but then again, too much was happening in too little time.

"What? Nothing to say any-"

"Don't move."

Your blood ran cold. You could see it now. His eyes weren't on you, they were focused on something behind you. The skin on your back tingled and your vision blurred. You could hear a soft thud and then a scratch, as if someone was dragging their feet. It was coming closer and closer. Before long, you finally heard it. A growl.

Through your blurred vision, you could only see the man in front of you. His pale skin was blindingly bright now that there was light flooding in from the back. Why didn't you check for a door at the back? Why did you let your guards down? You could see his dark brown orbs flit back and forth between you and the thing behind you. For a moment, you wished he would save you again. But why would he when he could push you off as bait and take his chance of escape?

You closed your eyes. You could feel your knees slowly give away as your childhood, your teenage and your years working as an investigative journalist flash before your eyes. Your colleagues had always despised you because you'd somehow manage to avoid the risky cases, ones where you could come close to the face of death. They would probably be glad to know how you went. But there was so much left to be done. It felt too soon. You were leaving too soon.

A snarl and then a choked out growl rumbled in the air behind you. This was it. You took one deep breath. This was it. You exhaled.

That's when a table flipped. Literally.

You heard the crash before you opened your eyes to see it. A broken table that had been lying useless beside the door was now on top of the... thing and by it stood the man. Eyes on the thrashing creature at his foot. It couldn't remove the heavy table from itself. It didn't have hands. There was nothing below its elbows and a dark liquid was dripping from the open joints.

You didn't even realise you were on the floor until the man was pulling you on to your feet, his lips moving. He was talking to you. But all you could hear was a sharp whistle and then buzzing. You could only stare at him, a stranger who saved you once again when he had no need to. Even as he dragged you towards the back of the pantry, you just stared at him. You didn't know how he could tell but just by the open back door, he turned to you and held you by your shoulders and shook you.

"Put it together. We have to leave. I need you in your complete consciousness if we have to leave here alive."

Then it all hit you. The wailing creature below the heavy table was growling at the top of its voice and the other side of the pantry door was about to give away as the thudding of multiple bodies hitting against it, made it creak and shake.

"Are you listening? We have to-"

"Let's go," you nodded at him. If life had given you another chance, you must make the most of it.

"Can you run well?"

"Women run the world."

"Let's fucking go, then."

Your watch was broken. Just your luck. You had no idea how long the both of you ran through the deserted streets. The street lights were off and the houses along the streets felt like they were part of an abandoned civilisation that died away long ago. Abandoned cars and motorcycles left with traces of a darkened fluid that you could only assume was blood. Everywhere you could only see blood. It was making your whole body ache, your feet weighing heavier and heavier as you realised that it was really happening.

You were running so fast that it only occurred to you how far you had come when you noticed the man slowing down as the police station came into sight. On the street before the station, there were two cars that appeared to have been in an accident. You stepped forward towards the station only to be pulled back by the man once again.

"There," he pointed to the entrance of the station but you could barely see anything in the dark. As you squinted to see, your eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness and inside, you could see shadows moving. A shiver ran down your spine. There was no way they were uninfected. A sense of hopelessness washed over your body.

You turned to the man beside you, "where should we go? The hotel that I was staying in is on the other side of the city. We can't reach there on foot."

He nodded at that, "Yeah. Seaside is too far so our best bet would be to take a car."

You looked around the street and the abandoned cars standing around, "one of these?"

"Ideally, yes. But we need to make sure that it has enough fuel. We can't afford to stop at any gas stations once we start."

You walked towards one of the cars with the driver side door left open. It was exceptionally clean. No bloodstains on the windshield or on the seats. You leaned in to check for the key but couldn't find it around. A sparkle of something by the gear caught your eye so you bent over to check it out.

"A stupid candy," you murmured under your breath as you took your upper body out of the car only to come face to face with the man, who was leaning by the side of the door.

"Keep it," he nodded at you, eyes fixated on you like they were back at the pantry of the cafe. He was standing close. So close that if you took another step, your noses would bump into each other. Up close, he felt more familiar than ever. You were sure you had met him before so you couldn't resist asking.

"Have we met be-"

You didn't even know you had it in you to move that fast. One moment you were looking at him and the next you were pulling him back and behind you. From behind the car appeared something that you could never even have seen in your nightmare. It was a man or at least it used to be a man. His mouth hung open, lips split on the side abnormally. It was as if he had ripped his mouth open to take a massive bite of something. With his one eye open, he was dragging himself to the side of the car where you stood and from the other, a pen was sticking out through his split eyeball. As his full body came to view, a huge chunk of his shoulder was missing and the white of the bones was dripping with dark red.

"Holy shit- fuck. Fuck. Fuck," you stumbled backwards with the man right behind you. "We need to run. Run. Run. Fucking hell, just run."

"We won't be able to make it on foot. Look," he pointed towards the police station out of which more of those things were coming out like flies. So many. Of course. If the station was as packed as you had seen it when you were on your way to the cafe, then there had to be hundreds of those in there.

"Motherfuck-"

"Come on," he pulled you backwards by your arm. By then the night sky was filled with growls and snarls as those things started coming out of every house, every corner.

A horde of those things were emerging out of all those abandoned houses that you had crossed and you spluttered in disbelief as he dragged you right towards them.

"What the fucking fuck. No. Are you suicidal you maniac? Why are we going towards them? No. I am not-"

Instead of replying he just tugged on your arm harder, now sprinting towards the horde. You could only turn your head back for a split second but that was enough for you. You were doomed and surrounded. The man dragging you was relentless. As the distance between the horde and you two decreased and decreased, from inside you a strange sensation bubbled out. You didn't have it in you to reform your subconscious so you let it surface and it came out as laughter. As the man dragged you ahead, you laughed your heart out.

He looked back at you for a second with furrowed eyebrows and when he saw you laughing so much that your eyes were tearing up, he couldn't help but comment, "what a fucking psycho-"

At that moment, as the two of you reached so close to the horde that their extended arms were about to touch your skin, he left your side.

Horrified you turn to your side to curse him out for betraying you at the end, only to find him on top of a motorcycle that somehow had the key in it. He looked at you, with the subtlest smirk, ushering you on.

"What the fuck."

You got on just in time and off you went straight towards the other side. The horde that had emerged out of the police station was more scattered because they seemed confused at the quick direction changes. As the motorcycle breezed past the infected with zig zags that would have normally made you insanely mad, you let out a sigh. The road ahead was clear. You were saved. Again.

The entire city seemed to be under a powercut as you went through the blocks. The wind crashing against your face made your eyes flutter close. You didn't realise how exhausted you were. But even in that exhaustion, you couldn't help but be grateful to the man who had once again saved you. His hair fell in soft waves till almost his shoulders. You couldn't contain the sudden rush of emotions that ran through your body. In the span of a day, everything turned upside down.

In the exhaustion washing over your senses, you found it easy to be grateful. So you leaned in closer to the man, your chin nearly resting on his shoulder as you finally asked what you should have asked hours ago.

"What's your name?"

The wind cut through your voice making your question sound barely coherent. He confirmed your thoughts when he turned his head to the side, "Huh?"

"Your name. What's your name?"

You asked louder this time. His shoulders shook as if he was chuckling. Soon enough you could hear him again, his voice laced with humour, "Finally cared to ask?"

"Just say it. You're annoying enough," you made sure your tone was fussy enough but you couldn't help the smile that was tugging on your lips.

"Yoongi. Min Yoongi."

You nodded. Not that he could see you.

"Now, hold on tight," what he said next immediately made your smile drop.

How on earth did he know your name?

[candy69gurl]

POV: You are Sukuna's Vessel 6

Warnings- consequences of self harm, private touching

wc- 2.3k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

You wake up abruptly, your eyes flutter open, your body drenched in sweat. You stare at the ceiling, your head pounding, hands reaching for your phone. Messages from your friends and Gojo Satoru fill your screen.

It's 5 AM, you realize, feeling disoriented.

You struggle to get out of bed, your legs feeling unsteady. You notice a warm sensation between your legs, realizing you're wet, your core feeling damp and humid. You head towards the basin.

Staring at your reflection, you notice that same short hair, droopy eyes.

Suddenly, you vomit, bile burning your throat as you stagger back, your stomach twisting in revulsion.

Then.. Everything comes flooding back to you, the Malevolant Shrine, the tangled intimacy with Sukuna, the swirling mix of pain and pleasure...

You freeze in place, your heart hammering against your ribs. Panic claws at the edges of your mind, the looming specter of pregnancy flooding your thoughts. You vividly recall Sukuna's climax, the fear of its consequences gripping you.

With trembling limbs, you collapse to the ground, tears tracing salty paths down your cheeks.

"Oh, God," you whisper, your voice a fragile tremor. "Am I pregnant?" Your mind whirls in a tempest of uncertainty, grappling with the weight of the possibility.

In a sudden twist, Sukuna's lips form on your cheek, his tone dripping with mockery. "Are you daft? You're not pregnant," his voice laden with disdain cuts through the air.

"But why do I feel sick?" you inquire, your voice quivering with uncertainty.

"Oh, dumb girl," he croons, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I merely indulged your soul, not your mortal shell," he chuckles softly.

Your heart lurches, a surge of bewilderment flooding your senses.

"So, my soul was... defiled? Then, I am still untouched?" you stammer, your voice trembling with disbelief.

Sukuna's grin widens, his lone eye glinting with malice.

"Yes, your physical form remains pristine," he confirms, his voice icy. "But your soul will forever bear the mark of our encounter, even if it traverses to another vessel," his words drip with menace.

Shock grips you tightly, leaving you staggered.

"What have you done... to my soul?" you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with dread.

Sukuna's grin stretches wider, malevolence gleaming in his eyes. "I've granted it an unforgettable taste of ecstasy. It will ache eternally for more of me, regardless of where it may reside," he purrs, satisfaction evident in his tone.

"You... monster!" you spit out, your anger boiling over.

"Mhm, daring to insult me once again?" Sukuna's voice challenges you, daring you to defy him.

Fury courses through you, igniting your veins.

"Yes! A monster, you are!" you shout, a fire lighting within your eyes. "Why did you do it? Why would you taint my soul like this?"

Sukuna's laughter rings through your mind, a mocking soundtrack to your turmoil.

"Because that was the only way to tame YOU," he replies, his voice laced with arrogance. "Besides, your soul was so eager, so ready to embrace the sin we offered. Why resist temptation?"

A new wave of disgust washes over you, a bitter tide of betrayal.

"I feel sick.. So sick," you cry out, your chest heaving. "And now, I'm left with the memory, the shame... I hate you, Sukuna!"

His laughter dies down, replaced with quiet, cold amusement.

"Perhaps, that's where you're wrong," he whispers, his voice like icicles. "You crave me, desperate for more, even if you deny it. And I believe you'll come begging for it, sooner than later," he predicts.

The accusation leaves you reeling, struggling to regain your footing.

"No..." you gasp, your denial wavering. "I can.. NEVER."

Another wave of laughter washes over your mind, a cruel riptide in your mind. "We shall see, darling. We shall see," he promises, his voice ringing with dark confidence.

With a shudder, you turn away from the mirror, wiping your tears.

"This doesn't change anything," you vow, your voice firm. "I'll never let you control me, never let you win."

Determination courses through your veins, a steely resolve settling into your core.

Nausea gnaws at your insides, your body rebelliously refusing to accept sustenance. Each bite results in heaves, bile scalding your throat. As if to torment you, Sukuna's presence lingers, smug and triumphant.

"Why can't I consume anything? My head hurts so much," you complain, your frustration palpable.

Sukuna chuckles softly, his voice caressing your mind, "You see, dear, you bled profusely last night," he explains nonchalantly, "While I healed your wounds, your body isn't used to such treatment. The trauma is taking its toll on your equilibrium."

Your stomach churns, the reality sinking in. "Is there... nothing I can do to feel better?" you plead, your voice trembling.

Sukuna's laughter echoes in your mind, a cruel serenade to your plight.

"Ah, do you understand now?" he mocks, his voice syrupy sweet. "You shouldn't have tried such foolish acts, suffer now."

Your heart pounds, rage coursing through your veins.

"That's your fault," you snap, your voice sharp with anger. "You made me angry"

He sighs, his voice laced with false regret, "This is what I get after healing your body? Accusations?"

As you run your fingers through your hair, the thin strands catch uncomfortably. A decision forms in your mind. Slipping on a cap, you step into the quiet morning, hoping to evade notice.

Alas, fate conspires against you - Gojo and Yuji materialize in front of you, concern etched on their faces.

"Hey, you alright?" Gojo questions, his brow furrowing. "And why the cap?"

Your heart skips a beat, guilt gnawing at you. "Oh nothing.." you mutter, avoiding their gaze. "Getting a haircut."

Yuji tilts his head, studying your face, "Is everything alright?" he asks, worry lacing his voice. "You don't seem well."

Laughter of Sukuna flashes through your mind, "Go on tell them you tried to kill yourself."

Ignoring Sukuna you speak up, "Just tired, Yuji," you dismiss, forcing a smile. "Really, it's nothing."

Gojo raises an eyebrow, skepticism clear in his gaze. "Let's go to Shoko," he suggests firmly. "We need to check on you."

Your breath hitches, anxiety coiling around your stomach.

"I'm fine, really," you insist, trying to shake off their concern. "Just a bad night's sleep."

Yuji frowns, his eyes searching yours. "Pls tell us if something's wrong," he urges, his voice filled with sincerity. "We're here for you."

Your heart aches, gratitude and guilt warring within you. "Thank you, both," you murmur, offering a weak smile. "I promise. But today, I need some space, please?"

Gojo nods reluctantly, his gaze softening. "Alright, then. Just remember, we're here if you need us," he assures you.

Yuji reaches out, gently touching your arm, "Take-", but all of a sudden, he pauses, looking at you in disbelief.

"Y/N, you are cursed", Yuji speaks, withdrawing his hands from you.

Your eyes widen, shock washing over your face.

"Remember, you are not allowed to tell them anything", Sukuna warns, his voice clear through your mind.

"Yes, Fuck you Yuji," you laugh waving at them leaving the scene with confidence.

Yuji looks at Gojo after you leave, " I feel weird sensei. She is indeed hiding something from us."

Gojo replies, " I am aware of that. Gotta do something about it."

At the parlor, you opt for an undercut, the stylist expertly trimming your locks. As the transformation unfolds, you can't help but feel renewed. With a fresh look and restored energy, you venture back to your place.

"Don't mess with my hair again", you threaten Sukuna in your mind.

"Don't provoke me then," Sukuna retorts, matching your tone.

Throughout the day, you attempt to eat, engaging in small battles with Sukuna.

"I blame you for this," you grumble, your voice laced with irritation. "For making me feel like this."

Sukuna's voice echoes in your mind, "Oh, spare me your misplaced outrage," he responds, his tone dismissive.

"You ruined everything!" you retort, your voice shaking with anger.

"Everything, yes," he agrees sardonically. "Except for the fact you are still alive."

Silence descends between you, the weight of his words heavy. You swallow hard, conceding his point.

The evening casts its shadow, painstakingly slow hours stretching before you. Despite Sukuna's taunting, a faint empathy seeps through his words. Silent tears track down your cheeks, blurring your vision. An overwhelming sense of helplessness consumes you, your heart heavy.

As darkness falls, you retreat to bed, unable to find solace in sleep. Tossing and turning, rest eludes you. Your thoughts swirl like a tempest, each wave crashing against the rocks of your soul. You remember, Gojo and Yuji tried to comfort you today, their concern gnawing at your conscience.

Guilt tightens its grip, suffocating you.

Sukuna's voice echoes in the silence, "Stop pitying yourself," he advises, his tone unexpectedly gentle. "It doesn't suit you."

Torment gnaws at your insides, hunger and sleeplessness conspiring against you. Each rumble of your stomach serves as a reminder of your failure. Frustrated and desperate, you toss and turn, seeking solace in the darkness.

Sukuna's voice cuts through the silence, "Enough of this self-flagellation," he drawls. "Do something about it."

Curiosity piqued, you listen as he continues, "Touch yourself. Release the tension, and perhaps find sleep."

Defiance courses through your veins, your jaw tensing. "No way," you retort, your voice firm. "I'm not going to listen to your perverse suggestions."

Sukuna's laughter resonates, a sinister melody in the dark.

"You know it would ease your predicament," he purrs, his voice teasing.

Your heart races, temptation coursing through you. But you resist, adamant. "Not happening," you state resolutely, turning away from him. "If I fall asleep you will do weird things to with my body again."

Sukuna's laughter fills the void, his voice rich with amusement. "Fair enough," he relents, his tone mockingly placating. "But if you change your mind..."

Unsettled, you huddle under the covers, the weight of his words heavy on your mind.

Trembling, you hesitate, the truth of his words gnawing at your resolve. Gripping your sheets, you reach for your clit, the sensation immediately electrifying.

Sukuna's voice intrudes, "How delightful," he croons, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. "You are really doing it."

Embarrassed heat floods your cheeks, mingling with pleasure. Ignoring him, you focus on the rising tide of sensations, each stroke bringing relief. Despite the distraction, your hand continues its steady rhythm, easing your restlessness.

He chuckles, "So vulnerable, so weak."

Sukuna's voice filters through your mind, his words laden with smug anticipation.

"You know I can help, right? Make it better?" he proposes, his tone smooth.

Unease twists your insides, but you consider his offer for a moment. With a final resolve, you push him away.

"No," you utter defiantly.

His voice drips with disappointment, "You can trust me right?" he sighs, resignation evident in his tone.

"That's the least thing I do", you spit.

With a shaky breath, you continue, focusing on the building sensations. Pleasure washes over you, slowly ebbing the turmoil within.

Sukuna's voice pierces the quiet, "Feeling good?" he inquires, his tone laced with curiosity.

You nod, your breath ragged. "Yes... I've never felt like this before."

A pause ensues, suspense hanging heavy between you..

His voice hums with satisfaction, "Then let's take it further. Insert, one finger," he suggests gently. "Just one."

Hesitant, you consider his proposal. Fear threatens to undermine your courage. "I don't know... I'm scared," you confess, your voice wavering.

"Don't worry you can take it", Sukuna assures you.

Cautiously, you follow his instruction, inserting one finger, gasping at the new sensation. Waves of pleasure wash over you, heightening your arousal.

Sukuna's voice vibrates with approval, "See? Doesn't it feel good?"

Breathlessly, you agree, "Yeah... it feels good."

Another pause stretches between you, anticipation mounting.

"Two fingers," he encourages softly. "Go ahead."

Pulse racing, you obey, adding a second finger. A fresh wave of pleasure engulfs you, your moans growing louder.

Sukuna's voice resonates, "Good girl," he praises, his tone approving. "Now, deeper."

Obediently, you move your fingers, exploring deeper. A surge of ecstasy courses through you, your body trembling in response.

His voice echoes in your mind, "There you go. Keep going, feel it."

As you continue, an uncanny sensation unfurls – a mouth forms from your palm. Its tongue flicking and lapping at your clit sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through you. Overwhelmed, you cry out, your body bucking involuntarily.

Sukuna's voice rings triumphantly, "Ah, the moans you are making.."

Panting heavily, you struggle to respond.

In awe, you stifle your cries, covering your mouth with your other hand. Despite your efforts, the sounds escape you, a soft moan slipping past your lips. Simultaneously, a second mouth appears, its tongue delving into your mouth in a passionate kiss.

Sukuna's voice rumbles with satisfaction, "Shh... It's okay," he murmurs, his tone husky. "Let go."

Your body trembles, pleasure and embarrassment warring within. As his tongues dance against your clit and lips, you surrender to the overwhelming sensation.

His voice echoes in your mind, guiding you. "Come for me," he coaxes, his tone seductive.

With a final, fierce thrust, you climax, a deafening scream trapped behind your hand. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes into you, obliterating all thought. Your body convulses, surrendering to the bliss.

His voice resonates, "That's it, sweetheart. Let it flow."

As the storm subsides, you collapse onto the bed, breathless and spent. Relief washes over you.

Sukuna's voice echoes in the stillness, his tone encouraging.

"Again," he urges softly. "This time, play with your nipples too."

Reluctantly, you obey, adjusting to his request. Your fingers explore your nipples, their sensitivity surprising you. Combined with the continued stimulation, a familiar fire blooms within.

His voice hums, "See how responsive they are?"

With renewed vigor, you succumb to the sensations. Pleasure builds once more, escalating with intensity.

Unexpectedly, your hand halts, replaced by a sudden invasion. His tongue plunges into your hole, sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you. Meanwhile, the hand manipulating your nipple transforms into a mouth once more. It suctions your nipple, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

The dual assault overwhelms you, a potent mix of pleasure and surprise. One tongue probes deep within you, its rhythmic motions stirring your core. Meanwhile, the suction on your nipple intensifies, a delicious pull that leaves you breathless. Sensations overload your senses, each action synchronizing in perfect harmony.

"Oh god!" you gasp, your body arching involuntarily.

His voice hums in your mind, "Almost there," he promises, his tone tantalizing.

Intense pleasure swells within you, threatening to break free.

"Please..." you plead in your mind, "Gonna cum again."

Sukuna's voice echoes in your mind, "Cum on my tongue, let me taste you," he assures, his tone confident.

The onslaught continues, his tongue and lips working in harmony. You teeter on the edge, each touch pushing you closer.

With a loud cry, you orgasm again. Ecstasy engulfs you, washing away all thoughts. Your muscles contract, riding the intense waves until exhaustion takes hold.

His voice whispers in your ear, "Well done, human."

Exhausted, you sink back into the pillow, your breathing labored. In the afterglow, you drift off to sleep, lulled by the residual pleasure.

Sukuna's voice lingers in your mind, "I wanted you to orgasm a few more times but for today, rest."

"O-oversenstive", you say before drifting off to sleep.

While you're lost in sleep, a shift occurs. You're unaware of the change, unmindful of Sukuna's return. His consciousness merges with yours, awakening a sense of familiarity.

His voice hums in delight, "Ah, it feels so good to be in this flesh again."

Curiosity piqued, he explores his newfound freedom, his fingers tracing your body. An instinct guides him, his digit finding your clit.

He chuckles, startled, "Whoa, it's clenching like crazy! and so fucking wet.."

Unease creeps in, his action initiating a reaction. Oversensitivity courses through your body, amplifying even the slightest touch.

His voice trembles, "Oh fuck.. this is so sensitive."

His fingers continue to explore, reveling in the hypersensitive state. Each stroke incites a jolt of pleasure that reverberates throughout your body.

His voice quivers with disbelief, "Damn, I didn't think it would be this strong!"

Unable to resist, he indulges in the experience, daring to venture deeper. Your body responds predictably, a fresh surge of desire building. Thighs shaking, abdomen twitching.

Ignoring the oddity of the situation, Sukuna dives in, his fingers delving into you. The oversensitivity catches him off guard, a low moan escaping your lips. The sound is foreign, a deep male voice emanating from your feminine form.

"M-mhm, a-ah this.. this feels better than that day's", his deep voice softly echoing the room.

Despite the peculiarity, the pleasure beckons. His fingers continue their assault, your body responding eagerly. Each thrust sends rippling waves of ecstasy throughout.

His voice groans, "I c-cant stop.." his tone strained. "Can't resist."

Driven by curiosity and pleasure, he persists, the feeling too exhilarating to abandon. Your body writhes beneath him, reacting to every touch.

His voice rasps out, "So tight, so hot... Perfect."

The feeling intensifies, nearing a crescendo. He struggles to maintain control, each thrust fueling the impending release.

His voice shakes, "You're going to come again..."

And you do, a third round of orgasms tearing through your body. Your body arcs, gripping his intruding digit in a desperate attempt to prolong the pleasure.

His voice growls, "God, this body feels incredible."

Once the storm subsides, Sukuna pulls back, his eyes wide with wonder. The unusual sensation lingers, a testament to your newly discovered oversensitivity.

With reluctance, he releases you, allowing consciousness to seep back in. As awareness returns, you find yourself in sleep.

TAGLIST: @moonlightazriel @unholiiness @nyxlai @cocoaxbunny @persephone-lilly @iraa567 @rabbidbunwy @sweetchildcloud @lotus-n-l0ve @smashhed @imhellakawai @loveoreos @selfloverrrrrr @matchainthemorning @freckledmuffin @palegardenrebel @hellomeow12 @rowrowrowyourboat13 @zurakoofgintama

Dividers from @cafekitsune

[adore-laur]

DEVOTION

— please enjoy harry & sawyer getting freaky in miami (inspired by this ask)💃

——

MIAMI, 1993

People are packed into the arena like sardines. August humidity suffuses the air, a cacophony of chatter overlaps, and infectious energy pulses in the room as everyone waits for Sade to hit the stage in all their sensational glory.

In the general admission area, Harry stands behind Sawyer with his arms protectively draped over her shoulders. Her footing shifts occasionally as she fiddles with his rings. He can sense her anticipation—she's been looking forward to this concert for months. When he gifted her the tickets on her birthday, she wept and kissed him with a hunger he had never experienced from her before. As much as he spoils her, she goes the extra mile to show him her appreciation.

Once the lights go out, Harry can't wait to see her vivacious eyes and dazzling smile.

Sawyer looks ravishing tonight. Her black cropped tank top has a variety of enticing little cutouts—no bra underneath, he might add—and she's wearing low-waisted denim shorts that hug her ass most temptingly. There's a reason he opted to stand behind her—two, actually. One, he doesn't want any dudes getting a sneak peek at his girl. And two, he doesn't need anyone to see his hardness through his leather pants.

She curled her hair with natural-looking spirals and teased it with spray. Her long, wavy mane has always been a hassle to manage in the summertime, so she cut it collarbone-length. Her front bangs are tightly clipped back, and she wears gold hoop earrings. She’s truly a stunner.

Prior to leaving, Harry watched her as she got ready for the concert. They live together in a swanky Orlando penthouse, where simple things like her clothes hanging in the closet and makeup supplies cluttering the bathroom sink make him unbelievably happy. While he gently reminded Sawyer that they needed to leave soon for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Miami, she applied her mascara and teased him by showing her cleavage while bent over the vanity. Despite his provocative urges, he managed to resist giving in.

When Sawyer turns to look at him now, the room reduces to just her. Lucious lips are stained with a pomegranate-red gloss. Skin glowing with moisture. Dark eyes filled with warmth. It’s breathtaking to behold the sheer beauty of her features. Time and time again, she hypnotizes him. He's beginning to think she can cast spells on his lovesick soul.

Sawyer taps his bicep before standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear. In an instinctive move, Harry touches her hip and leans down to better hear her.

Fanning herself, she says, "It's muggy in here. I'm going to buy a water bottle and braid my hair in the bathroom."

"I'll go with you."

"But you have to save our spot," she reminds him.

Though he nearly protests, he reluctantly nods and caresses the slick skin of her bare middle back. "Fine. You have your phone?"

"In my purse. I'll be fast."

Harry kisses the spot between her eyebrows before letting her go, keeping her locked in his gaze until she disappears past the lower seating sections. In crowds, regardless of size, he doesn’t like losing her. During baseball games, it’s less worrying since she always sits in the same section in her reserved seat, but in Miami, he's extra cautious because it's an unfamiliar city. Sawyer can stand up for herself since sass and stubbornness are intertwined in her Aries DNA, but Harry remains fiercely protective of her. She's a certified sweetheart, conspicuously beautiful, and also quite gullible to a fault—if anyone attempts to take advantage of that, they'll have to answer to him.

While she's gone, Harry observes the venue. There are people from all walks of life surrounding him. The staggered seating sections flanking the floor are filling quickly, and it's reminiscent of playing at Tinker Field, where he would watch fans fill the bleachers from the dugout.

In a few weeks, the minor league season will conclude, and Harry is looking forward to taking a much-needed break from pitching and traveling. He's thankful he didn’t have a game scheduled today, which gave him and Sawyer the chance to step out for a date. It aches to know she's missed him a little more after such a long season. Due to her full-time job, she can’t always travel across America with him or attend home games, but they’re able to make it work by cherishing their time together. Next month, they plan to celebrate their second anniversary in Seville, Spain. They'll sunbathe on the scenic beaches, relish a couples massage, and take romantic strolls through the city's idyllic parks.

And, if Harry doesn't chicken out, he'll ask her to marry him.

Fondly smiling at the thought, he watches two girls strut toward him, parting the crowd like the Red Sea. They're wearing variations of the same outfit—metallic miniskirts, frilly halter tops, and chunky heels. Based on their strikingly similar features, they must be twins. Twin One holds a Canon camera, while Twin Two laughs into her hands.

Harry waves politely before shoving his hands in his pockets. The moment a fan recognizes him, he knows it. There’s a strange shift in the atmosphere when he temporarily loses his shield of privacy. It's unavoidable when fifteen thousand people are gathered in a Miami venue. It comes with the territory of being a famous Florida sports figure.

"Are you Harry Styles?"

Here we go.

Feeling abnormal but pushing past it, he says, "In the flesh. How's it going, ladies?"

"Oh my gosh, we love you," Twin One gushes. "You're hella cute. You play for the Sun Rays, right?"

"Sort of. Our team name changed recently. We're now the Orlando Cubs."

"Oh, cool," she says distractedly. "Anyway, we want a picture with you."

With a sharp inhale, Harry nods once. “Sure, no problem."

It doesn't bother him to take pictures or sign autographs. Most people are respectful and genuinely honored to meet him. Rarely, however, do people demand things from him, like right now. Then he feels prickles of discomfort. It makes him feel as though he's being exploited. It makes him feel fictitious.

As the girls swarm around him and touch him like he's a wax figure with no boundaries, Sawyer nudges her way through the crowd, water bottle in hand. As she processes the situation, her movements slow and her shoulders drop slightly. She has her hair in two messy braids, with the shorter layers springing loose. She looks effortless and... annoyed. Yeah, Harry is all too familiar with that look. He has been on the receiving end of those slanted eyebrows, those gritted teeth, and those assessing eyes. How will this play out?

When she sees Sawyer, Twin Two strokes his arm suggestively. Thankfully, they see her as a mere stranger rather than his girlfriend. His mind flashes back to past discussions about keeping their relationship as private as possible, and he decides not to sacrifice that for such a meager moment. No chance.

"Can you take a photo of us?" It was wise of her to ask, rather than demand. Otherwise, Harry's friendly mask would have definitely slipped.

Sawyer purses her lips as she meets Harry's gaze. "Do you mind?" he asks, his expression hinting at a secret message.

By taking Twin One's camera, she recognizes his unspoken signal and cleverly leaps into her role. God, he's thankful for her. He knows it's challenging to deal with these bizarre occurrences that pop their bubble, but she handles them all so gracefully. When they get home, he’ll shower her with affection.

Sawyer raises the camera to her eye and says, "I'll take a few."

Harry straightens his posture and awkwardly places his hands on both girls' upper arms. His muscles tense uncomfortably as their hands slither around his waist and linger near his stomach. Amid three flashes, he’s suffocated by the pungent smell of perfume and spearmint gum.

“There you go,” Sawyer says, giving the camera back and forcing a smile.

They browse the pictures before staring at Harry with a sickening amount of adoration. "It was awesome meeting you," Twin Two says, biting her lip. "We'll see you around at the next Sun Rays game."

"Cubs," Sawyer mumbles around a fake cough. Only Harry catches it, and he restrains himself from grinning proudly and kissing her senselessly.

"Nice to meet you both," he says, briefly touching his heart. "Enjoy the concert, yeah?"

They nod, blush, and giggle simultaneously before walking off, staring back at him a couple of times before fading into the sea of strangers. Harry releases a breath he didn't know he was holding and concentrates on Sawyer drinking from her water bottle. He's about to apologize for the unnatural situation, but the venue goes dark, and the audience erupts with deafening cheers.

The joy he expected to see in Sawyer's eyes isn't there. Silently, she crosses her arms and faces the stage with a blank expression. Harry curses at himself—he knows it isn't his fault and that it's just how Sawyer is. She takes things to heart and lets them stew until her skeptical thoughts overflow without a lid. The fact that she didn’t witness the entire interaction has made her understandably upset. Harry regrets not saying no to the fans.

First on the setlist is "The Sweetest Taboo"—sonically sensual, intoxicatingly groovy, and a fantastic way to open their show. Everybody dances to the exquisite beat and sings along to the lyrics. The energy in the room soars to an unimaginable level. It's contagious.

Harry grips Sawyer's hand so the crowd doesn't swallow her whole. She turns and smiles softly, finally bobbing her head to the music. Slowly, she loosens up, unfurling the passionate girl he knows lives within her. The one who loves to dance.

She looks resplendent as indigo lights glide across her face. Her body begins to move—the shape of her swaying hips and the pinch of her waist are irresistible. Harry settles behind her and follows her smooth movements, grinding against her backside. The warmth of his hands rests on her ribcage, and they dance, getting lost in the ecstasy of experiencing live music.

With each song, they forget about the world outside and fall more in love with each other.

——

Harry and Sawyer leave the arena on a high after being captivated by Sade's sultry voice and entrancing stage presence for over an hour. The parking lots are already congested with people trying to beat traffic, so they decide to wait until it calms down.

As soon as they get into the car, Harry starts the engine and turns on the air conditioning before reclining in the driver's seat. With exhaustion swimming through his bones, he sighs contently. It was a magical concert, but he's not looking forward to driving back to Orlando. He'll need to stop by 7/11 for an energy drink and some snacks. Fortunately, tomorrow is Sunday, so they can both sleep in and laze around the whole day.

Sawyer unbraids her hair and removes the clips, then shakes her head cutely to loosen her wild curls. She looks tired as well. They danced the night away together, not caring who saw them. He told her to climb on his back a few times so she could get a better view of the stage. During the romantic slow-tempo songs, she hugged and kissed him sweetly, and he swears he almost got down on one knee right then and there.

"I love you, baby," Harry says, watching her take off her Doc Martens. "Tonight was divine."

A smile spreads across Sawyer's face. "I love you too. Hey, listen..." She reaches over to caress his cheek and thumb the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry about my buzzkill attitude at the beginning."

Shaking his head, he kisses her palm. “You don't have to apologize. I appreciate how you handled those girls."

He hopes to forget about what happened. Honestly, as soon as the concert started, he forgot all about them. There was only one thing on his mind: Sawyer and the mesmerizing way she moved.

"I just... I got jealous," Sawyer confesses sheepishly.

Harry frowns in astonishment. Jealousy is a rare emotion for Sawyer. They’ve been dating for almost two years, and he can count on one hand the number of times she has been outwardly jealous. Since he only has eyes for her, there's no rhyme or reason for her to feel this way.

What a new and fun development, Harry thinks to himself. He loves how their relationship continues to surprise him.

Harry, however, has been caught having jealous fits many times before. Like that instance when Sawyer was invited to lunch by her so-called "cubicle neighbor." Harry is her forever lunch date, not anyone else. Even when he can't be there in person, he'll call her office fax number and keep her company while she munches her cucumber salad. Harry's jealousy grew when he discovered some guy was trying to steal that from him, so he ordered an impressive bouquet to be delivered to her desk the following day. It didn't take long for everyone to get the hint. Then there was that time when they were watching The Bodyguard, and Sawyer kept squealing girlishly over Kevin Costner's character. Okay, so he literally took a bullet for the woman he loved. Big deal! Harry smothered his jealousy by obnoxiously pretending to be Sawyer's bodyguard while exiting the movie theater and then proceeding to sing "I Have Nothing" off-key the entire way home. She just laughed, which was his goal in the first place.

"Why'd you get jealous?" Harry asks.

Sawyer's brow quirks. "Well, when I'm subjected to taking pictures of two pretty girls who are all over my boyfriend, it doesn't necessarily feel good."

"I know," he says, frustrated with himself. "I should've refused them. They kind of trapped me."

She pouts sympathetically before climbing over the console and straddling his thighs. "My sweet sunray. You're too nice."

Harry pulls her closer by hooking his fingers through her belt loops and tugging. "I'm sorry you were jealous."

"I shouldn't have been. You know why?"

"Tell me." Reaching around her, he turns up the volume of the radio to drown out the sounds of cars honking at each other. The cassette tape they listened to on the drive to Miami is still playing on loop. "Paradise" by Sade sets the mood.

"Because you're mine," Sawyer says with conviction.

Spreading his legs on the seat, he smirks. "Say that again, angel."

"You're mine. No one else's."

"Ditto," he replies, rubbing his palms along her suntanned thighs. "You've got my devotion."

His bodacious girl bites his bottom lip until it stings, then says, "Prove it."

"Good fuckin' lord," Harry murmurs against her mouth before diving in. He kisses her ravenously while fumbling to unbutton her shorts, eventually helping her shimmy out of them. Sawyer shoves her hand down his pants and grasps his bulge, stroking it purposefully. He gasps and slides his pants down halfway, revealing his tented boxers.

"Are you mine?" she asks, sitting right on his cock and sending shockwaves of sex drive down his spine. Her body's heat is addictive.

"Yes," he says breathlessly, kissing her flushed neck. "I'm your man."

"Then act like it. Show me who you belong to."

A shocked laugh escapes as he greedily grabs a handful of her ass. "Sawyer Alejandra, what has Miami done to you? Ay, Dios mío!"

She smiles seductively. "It's Sade's fault."

"Is that right?" Harry cranks the volume up even more before allusively sliding his hand under her top and cupping the swell of her breast. It fits perfectly, and when he teases her peaked nipple with his thumb, Sawyer's palm slaps against the window as she grinds against him. The glass is fogging with the A/C running, sweat drips down his back, and the song's driving bass line pulsates loudly through the speakers. It's filthy what they're doing, considering potential onlookers surround them. It's a good thing the car has tinted windows.

The thrill of their sexual escapade pulses through Harry's body. As he kisses Sawyer's heaving breasts through her top's cutouts, the pleasure becomes borderline intolerable. His lips search for any sliver of skin, and in response, she tugs at his hair and whimpers softly. Her skimpy lace underwear is damp, and he switches his attention to her clit. He rubs it with his knuckle, causing Sawyer's hips to momentarily stutter before she leans into the movement and stamps sloppy kisses all over his face, her cherry-flavored lip gloss transferring to his cheeks, nose, and jaw. They're as sweet as sugar.

"Almost there," Sawyer whispers, running her hand across his broad chest. Her fingers grip the material of his bejeweled sleeveless top to keep herself balanced, and Harry would let her rip it apart if he hadn't spent several hours meticulously hot gluing rhinestones onto it.

After kissing down her stomach and blowing air onto her belly button ring, he teases two fingers past her wet entrance, and it's all she needs to unravel completely. As she orgasms, she leaves love bites on his neck and moans. Her body language is desperate; the arch of her back and the tightening of her thighs against his own help her through her release.

"Nice and easy, baby," Harry murmurs, squeezing her waist. "Take your time."

From the gratifying pain she inflicts on the tender flesh of his neck, Harry comes in his boxers, his pelvis jerking as goosebumps rise over his skin in transient tidal waves. It feels equally divine and unholy to do what they just did. Tiredness kicks in as they both breathe heavily. Gradually, the condensation on the windows disappears. Sawyer's handprint is the last thing to vanish, and the sight will undeniably haunt his memory in the most marvelous way.

Harry opens the glovebox and finds the stash of napkins. After cleaning Sawyer and himself, he pulls his pants back up, shuts the radio off, and says, "I've made up my mind."

"About what?" Sawyer asks, sitting sideways on his lap so she can stretch her legs. In just her cropped top, underwear, and adorable ruffle socks, she's a masterpiece. And all his.

"I'm going to marry you one day," he says. It's something he's known for a long time. He hopes that easing her into the topic will make him more confident about proposing next month.

Sawyer pinches his earlobe. "Don't say dreamy things like that."

"Oh, that’s bogus," he retorts. "You say heart-stopping things to me all the time without even realizing it. Especially after sex."

"Not marriage-related things!"

"Does that mean you don't want to marry me?" he asks, fishing for a reaction.

When she goes quiet and stares contemplatively at him, Harry's stomach swoops. He knows her exceptionally well, which means he knows she tends to shy away from substantial conversations regarding their future when they're sprung upon her by his spontaneous nature. Perhaps it's too early to propose a lifelong commitment, but hasn't she imagined sharing a life with him before? The moment he kissed her for the first time, he fantasized about settling down, buying a house away from the city, tying the knot, and having curly-haired babies.

Eventually, Sawyer says, "I would marry you in this parking lot right now if you asked me to."

Harry feels an internal splash of relief and plays it cool by saying, "Please raise your standards."

"Are you saying you wouldn't want to marry me in a parking lot, lover boy?" She tosses her version of his question back to him with a frisky smile.

"I'd find you and marry you in every lifetime. How's that for an answer?"

She’s speechless for five full seconds before lurching forward to hug him, her heart hammering. "You're crazy. I love you so, so much."

"I adore you," Harry whispers. He reaches for the 'S' pendant hiding under his top's neckline and pulls it out. "I'm forever yours."

Sawyer kisses him repeatedly and says, "Forever."

During the journey home, she falls asleep with her head in his lap, holding his hand while he drives. His thumb absentmindedly strokes her ring finger, and he feels a surge of emotion and excitement knowing he will get to spend the years to come by her side.

Years filled with being deeply devoted to her.

——

[honeytama]

Make Your Move - Chapter 6

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Matt Dierkes

A/N: She’s back! A little thing; a minimal scene in this chapter may seem similar to a sound deck scene in Unveiled Hearts by @thefallennightmare. I noticed it after I read her story (which I love), but I chose not to rewrite my scene. No copying here, just great minds thinking alike <3

Fic Summary: Find in Fic Masterlist

Content and Warnings for Ch. 6: Lots of fluff and more dating! AHH, some suggestive content, some smut 18+, hands stuff (hand job/fingering etc), almost caught, semi-public

Word Count: 8k

Tag List:

@xxkittenkissesxx @exitwoundsx @jilliemiw86 @abiomens @lma1986

@flowery-mess @doomhands-jr @rain-down-on-me @justdamnpeachy @thatchickwiththecamera @narcissisticbehavior81

@xcllnt @somebodyels3

After Noah and you had your late-night tryst in the showers of the venue, the walk back to the bus felt desolate. You walked alone through the hallways and into the dark, humid night as you exited the venue into its back alleyway.

The grin on your face wanted to stay there; you wanted to be elated that both of the men that you were attracted to wanted you. However, your face falls when you realize that Matt was right: you’re not being fully truthful to him, or Noah.

You feel it’s hard to swallow when you think back to just ten minutes ago. Noah asked what you wanted to speak to him about and you dodged the question. Wanting to believe that your brain was foggy from the sight of Noah’s body, and that kiss, was half of your reasoning for lying, but the other half is that you really couldn’t bear telling Noah the truth.

Outside of the bus, you pace the side of it while listing the options available to you: don’t tell the two men that you kissed both of them the same night and risk their friendship and your relationship with them once they find out, or do tell them and risk it all anyway.

Everything about the situation made you feel gross and at a loss. If only you told Noah about Matt’s confession, then maybe you wouldn’t feel like you’re on track to manipulating them both in the process.

“Why?” You yell out into the night, holding your head in your hands.

You calm your senses and walk to hop onto the bus to head to Nashville, Tennessee. While in bed, you finally decide you should come clean to both of them as soon as possible to save you the heartache. In contrast to your decision, you thought, why not indulge yourself in the fantasy you had never thought possible?

—

A constant buzzing tone from your phone wakes you in the morning; you turn over in your bunk to grab it while noticing the bus isn’t moving. You must be outside of the Nashville venue already.

Without checking the caller ID, you hold the phone close to your ear and mumble, “Hello?”

“Good morning, loser, get out of bed,” Matt's voice is loud in your ear. You pull your phone away from your head and wipe the sleep from your eyes before responding.

“You’re such a bully, let me sleep,” you whine and check the time. Ten AM. It’s a bit later than when you would usually wake up. “Where are you?”

“I’m finishing a run with Noah. I’m on my way back to the venue, but he decided to go the extra mile,” he answers.

“Oh,” you’re lucky the fact that you just woke up can hide the lack of enthusiasm in your voice. You hope with everything in you that they didn't share the things they did with you the night before. They could have been laughing at you. They could’ve been plotting to “dump” you. They could be planning to fire you from the tour. Clenching your eyes closed to push back these intrusive thoughts you finally respond, “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, it was,” he says, unfazed by your tone. “Anyway, I called because I was wondering if you had plans at, let’s say, noon?”

“Yes, I plan to rot in bed with my phone six inches from my face until they need us to work later,” you explain, matter-of-factly.

“So you’re saying you wouldn't want to go out on a date with me?”

This shocks you awake and you sit up on your bunk. The crown of your head bumps the top of the enclosed space, “Ouch, fuck!”

Matt laughs over the phone, but questions, “You good?”

“Yeah, I just banged my head on the top of my bunk.” You rub the throbbing spot on your head as you return to reality, “You’re asking me out?”

“Yup,” he pops the “P” in the word. Even though he isn’t there with you, you can just see the smug look on his face. “There’s a hot chicken place I’ve been wanting to try since we’re in Nashville and I thought I should finally take you out. You know, just you and me, like we said.”

You never thought that this day would come, but you remember your decision to be open and honest with the two boys. This would be the first time you addressed the elephant in the room, “Does it still bother you that I went out with Noah a few days ago?”

He hums softly. “I’m getting over it. I did give you two permission,” he says. “But, I figured, since I told you how I felt last night… and our kiss,” he pauses again, “you would want to start hanging out with me, too. Just not as friends.”

You bite your lip and sway in your bunk. “You want to date me,” you sing in his ear, teasingly.

“Don’t make me take it back, Y/N,” he grumbles.

“Okay, okay! Yes, I’ll go out with you,” you say quickly. “I’ll be ready at 11:45! Is it close by?”

“Sure is, we can walk there together. Wear something cute,” you can hear the smirk in his voice again.

“I will,” you sing. “Matt?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to let me hold your hand?” You ask, hopefully.

“Maybe, if you’re good,” he laughs before hanging up the phone.

—

You’re dressed up in your favorite casual date outfit. It’s only a few minutes until you need to meet Matt outside the bus.

Adjusting your hair and accessories, you look into the bus bathroom mirror. The jitters that have shaken your body since the moment he asked out over the phone have not stopped, and really, it’s getting worse. You have to keep your jaw clenched to keep your teeth from chattering. The only thing that can help you is seeing him.

You huff and head down the hallway to the front room. Jolly and Folio sit on the couch on their phones, relaxing.

“Hey, beautiful,” Jolly says. “Where are you going?”

Folio looks up from his phone too, “Yeah? Damn, you look good, I like that outfit.”

Your cheeks flush at their compliments, but you realize you don’t feel comfortable with them knowing that you have been on a date with Noah and are now going on one with his best friend. “I’m going for lunch with Matt,” you tell them a half-truth. Lying seems to be in your repertoire these days.

“Oh, cool. Where are y’all going?” They say in unison.

“It’s a hot chicken restaurant he knows about,” you tell the truth.

“Shit, that sounds good. Could we come with y’all?” Folio asks, excitedly.

Folio, please. “I would love that, but we're going to do some catching up as friends,” you give him a sorry smile and offer to take him there another day while you’re still in town.

“It’s all good,” he shrugs. ‘Y’all have fun.”

You wave them goodbye, “See you later for the show boys.”

“Bye, Y/N!” They sing as you exit the bus onto the concrete of the venue alley.

Matt leans on the brick wall of the venue looking at his sneakers.

“Hey, handsome,” you compliment him. His outfit is different than usual. It’s not that different, however, you could tell he had his idea of a casual date outfit, too. Your chest flutters at the thought of him getting ready for you.

Matt looks up at you at the sound of your voice. A smile slowly creeps on his lips and builds to a toothy, shit-eating grin.

“I see you wore a clean, oversized tee today,” you tease him while looking him up and down. “And, camo cargo pants? That’s so hot.”

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes. “I think that I look best without clothes, but I dont think Hattie B’s would allow that,” he jokes.

You tend to agree with that statement. He looks like a God when he is down to a pair of fitted boxer briefs. Besides the other features of his physique, below the belt, you’ve only ever taken a good look at his ass. You know that your life would be over if Matt were ever to catch you ogling his bulge, so even after countless sleepovers and pool days, you have no clue what he might be packing.

“Is that the restaurant we’re going to?” You ask as he comes to your side to start your walk.

“Mhm,” he hums. “By the way, you look,” you catch him sneaking a glance over to you, “amazing.”

“Thanks, babe,” you nudge his shoulder.

A ghost of a smile makes his lip curl upwards. He doesn't want you to notice, but you do. “I’m already regretting sharing my feelings with you,” he grunts before taking his hand in yours. His thumb rubs over the top of it softly and you smile to yourself as you walk down the city sidewalk, side by side.

—

“Can you order for me, Matt? I need to use the restroom,” you ask him.

“Yeah, I know what you like,” Matt agrees while staring up at the menu overhead at the ordering counter.

That was something that you loved about him and something you wouldn't get from Noah, not at this point. Matt remembers everything. The second you tell him you love something, your goals, even something you're just remotely interested in it’s like he has a notes app page open about it. Matt tends to order your food for you when you go out back at home, but if you order he’ll speak up for you if you’re too shy to ask for something specific.

“Could I have three chorizo breakfast tacos, please?” You would ask at your two’s favorite taco shop on Sunday mornings. Matt would give you a stare and a subtle head tilt to mention your customization, but when you don't.

“With salsa on the side. Not on top, please. She doesn't like it,” he would say for you before handing over his card.

You haven't realized it until now, looking into the bathroom mirror, but you have been comparing the two men you've been involved with and you don't like it. It’s not like you should have the privilege of comparing either of them anyway. Your choice to have one, for peace, is completely null. You could only hope to enjoy your time with the two of them until everything goes to hell.

Enough, you say to yourself roughly. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy your date. You wash your hands with warm water; the temperature change and the sweet scent from the soap soothes your senses.

You walk back out into the restaurant lobby and spot Matt sitting alone at a booth. His leg bounces up and down as he looks out the building window.

Walking up to sit across from him, he jokes, “You didn’t fall in did you?”

You giggle and get settled in your seat, “No, I was just nervous, I guess. I was taking a second to myself.”

“How do you feel now?” Matt reaches across the table from you and holds his hand in yours.

“Better,” you smile. He continues tracing circles with the pad of his thumb on your hand just like he did on your way here. Just on the soft skin of your palm, this time. “So, what did you order me?”

“I got you the mild spicy sandwich with fries. I think I got us a side of mac and cheese to share,” Matt purses his lips. “I got myself the hot sandwich with fries. You can try mine, but I know you’re not too into spicy stuff,” he shrugs.

You both speak at the same time.

“Thank you–” “Unless, it’s books–

“Matt,” you squeeze his hand in yours while making “What the fuck?” eyes to him. Ducking your head, you look around the restaurant to make sure no one overheard him. “Don't talk about my book.”

“You read it in public,” he says matter of factly. “I can talk about something that you do in public.”

“Reading on the bus isn't in public,” you defend. Heat travels up your neck to your cheeks like it usually did when Matt and you got on to the topic of sex. It happens often, and you hate that you don't mind it.

He shrugs and starts to laugh at himself. “I’ve Googled the title, by the way, I know what you've been reading about, Y/N.”

You decide to play his game. After over a year of dealing with him, you have found that the best way to combat his taunting is to do it right back. “Oh, really,” you tilt your head at him. “What is it about then? Describe it to me.”

Matt lets go of your hand and adjusts his hat. This is his common tell that he would rather change the subject, but in proper Matt fashion, he wants to play with you. “If I remember correctly,” he pauses while looking up at the ceiling, “It’s about a woman who moves into the house next door to this hot guy. Hot guy is a boudoir photographer? She does his marketing in exchange for him to teach her how to fuck. I stole your copy to check for myself and I remember the guy laying her out on top of a counter—”

“Uhm, I have the mild and hot sandwiches with a side of mac and cheese?” The woman delivering your food squeaks out.

“That’s us, thank you,” Matt coughs out.

“Thank you,” you say as they start to dart away from your table.

You and him stare into each other’s eyes with blank faces waiting for the employee to walk far enough away before you can react.

Once they have walked through the swinging door to the kitchen Matt is in hysterics laughing across from you. His keeling over the side of the table just so you can see the pleasure on his face a bit closer.

“Why did you just explain my sex book in front of the employee?” You cover your face with your hands.

“You asked me to! You did this to yourself,” he continues to chuckle while shoving a fry into his mouth.

“Also, I haven't got to the part you’re talking about, so thanks for the spoiler,” you huff before also taking a fry and shoving it in your mouth. “Shit, this is good,” you moan and relax your shoulders.

“Is that how you moan when—”

“Matt, I’m on my knees—,” you glare at him before he can interrupt you. “I’m begging you, could we please talk about something else?”

“Sure,” he calms and starts eating. “I wanted to thank you for saying “yes” to coming out with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was nervous that you might just want to see how things go with Noah,” he admits.

“Matt, I have had the biggest crush on you since, like, a month into knowing you? There’s no way I would pass up the opportunity for a date. I just—”

“What’s wrong?”

Here we go. “I just don't want everyone to know that I’ve been on a date with Noah and you. I feel sleazy.”

“It’s going out. It’s innocent,” he shrugs and bites into his sandwich. Talking with his mouth full, “You let me know if anyone tries giving you shit for it. I’ll beat their ass.” He swallows his bite. “If it will make you feel better, I don’t mind you saying that we’re doing stuff as friends. I’ll do the same. It’s pretty normal for us to be alone since people know we've known each other for a long time.”

Thank God. “I’m glad you feel that way,” you start. “Something happened with Noah. I need to—,”

“Tell me later?” He interrupts and then shakes his head, “Sorry, I don’t want to talk about him on our date. I just want to hear about you.”

“Okay,” you nod. Fuck, don’t take the out. You need to tell him, you think. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he smiles. “Here, try this sauce. Shit’s good.”

You and Matt spend the next hour at the restaurant eating and chatting away. He feeds you fries and lets you try his sandwich. Which ultimately, as he predicted, would make you chug your drink down to get another refill.

He asks you to tell him about your aspirations again as your legs are intertwined with his underneath the table. He always listens to you so intently with a furrowed brow. It’s intimidating as all you want to do is impress him. However, Matt has never made you apologize for being yourself: for liking what you like, or for dreaming big dreams.

He reminds you of his goals in life and your chest has that familiar tingle by the way his face glows when he talks about them. He shows you his favorite pictures of his dogs that you have seen time and again. He gives you countless, soft-spoken affirmations and praise about how you look, the jokes you tell him, and your work ethic. He tells you how great you’ve been doing at your job. He’s proud of you and date Matt, romantic Matt… isn’t afraid to show it.

You feel loved. He’s in love with you.

—

Matt invited you to watch the show from the sound deck again tonight.

You agreed, excitedly, the butterflies in your stomach have yet to die down after your first date with him this afternoon. The smile on his face wouldn’t dissipate either.

The crew teased about how sweet he treated them when you two came in to check up on them after returning from getting lunch.

“What’s got you so excited, Dierkes?” Kooter, Bad Omen’s drum tech, teased from behind Matt while massaging his shoulders.

“Fuck off, go help Folio,” Matt said, brushing Kooter off. His tone showed itself to be negative, however, you love the way his lips turned up at the ends as he turned back to face you. His eyes smile too as they meet yours as if to say, “You’re what I’m excited about, Y/N.”

The crew set everything up as organized and as detailed as it would be if you two were there to manage the process, and the gig began as usual.

Later in the night, you stand at Matt’s side in the sound deck to prepare for Bad Omens to begin their set of the night. It would be two whole days since you would return to work after spending some time in Nashville before moving on to the next tour stop. Looking around the room, you take it all in, to save the excitement and fulfillment that your job brings to you every night. Fans line and lean over the railings of the balcony seats at both sides of the room; chatting and patiently waiting for the band’s introduction to the stage.

A group of women, around your age, stand in front of the sound deck barrier. They're laughing and taking pictures and you hear one of them dare another to ask Matt for a photo, too. He doesn't seem to notice, but the women catch your curious stare, they nod and motion for you to tap on his shoulder. You take a step closer to him, “Matt, do you want to take a picture?” You ask while lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.

He turns to you, immediately. “Yeah,” He smiles and begins to pull his phone from his jogger’s pocket.

“Oh, sorry, not with me,” you giggle, patting his arm. “Them,” you nod your head the ladies waiting hopefully and excitedly across from you two.

“Oh, sure,” he smile falls a tad, but returns to assure you. “I’ll be right back, okay? Then there’s something I want to show you.” He steps off to the side closer to the metal barrier that separates the crowd and yourselves and you watch as the group’s faces light up at him. They cover their mouths in excitement and mouth to each to “be chill or be calm”. It’s hard to read their lips.

The way they feel right now is how you would be reacting to meeting him or Noah in an alternative universe where Matt and you had never met on that walk that one day. Every time you're invited back to the sound deck, you feel like a fan again.

Matt says, “Have fun!” to the group and returns to your side. “So, I was thinking about something cool you could do if you’re interested?”

“Sure,” you raise an eyebrow at him as he walks a couple of feet over to the lighting board on the table.

“Do you want to control the lights during the Concrete Jungle call and response thing?” He pats the console.

“What? Me?” You say, shocked, yet excited. “Hell yes, but what if I mess it up?”

“It’s super easy, not even you could mess it up,” he teases and you give him an eye roll. “I swear. All you have to do is control these two faders; up for brightening down for dimming, and you just lead the crowd to chant “Jun-gle” using the lights. You’ve seen it almost every night for the past week, you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll do it,” you nod slowly.

“Here, practice,” he grabs your hands to rest them on the correct sliders on the board. He’s soft when he guides your fingers to push the sliders upward, slowly, which gradually brightens the lights overhead the stage. Various groups of fans cheer in the crowd for the lighting, hopeful it’s a sign for their show to begin. Matt guides your fingers back down the board and the lights dim to black again. “Now, do it yourself, just faster,” he leans back on his foot and crosses his arms over his chest watching you experiment with the sliders.

“Ok,” you let out a quick breath. Your heart beats fast in your chest, but you would have time to settle your nerves as you wouldn’t have to do this until Dethrone, their final song of the night. “I think I have the hang of it.”

“Good, because that’s all you,” he says. “Sometimes I forget that you're a fan of all of this. I want you to have more of these experiences,” Matt leans in close to your ear, in hopes only you would hear him. “I know I can be an ass, but you deserve to have the time of your life on this tour. I want this to work out.”

“Yeah, I know,” you squish his cheeks with your fingers. He reels back and swats your hand away, but laughs with you before returning to his soundboard and set up. Once he’s out of earshot, you mumble, “I want all of this to work out too, believe me.”

—

You sang to yourself and danced at a volume that wouldn’t take Matt's or fans' attention from the stage as you stand with him tonight.

While you were still reeling from your day with Matt, you still missed Noah. Your heart yearned for them equally, although it is hard to forget the six words that came out of Matt’s mouth last night. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.” It has been on repeat all day.

The nights you weren’t invited into the sound deck you would stand sidestage and would get hyped up with Folio as he passed you funny looks from his drum throne. Noah would partake in the antics, too, when it wouldn’t take away from his performance. Like: Having dance-offs with you when the audience thinks he’s dancing alone, or giving you eyebrows and a smirk at certain parts of his lyrics, and when he undresses down to a tank top mid-set.

Tonight, you don’t have to hide your gaze on his hands as he lifts his overshirt above his head. The way the muscles in his back and biceps flex involuntarily by the motion makes you shutter.

It was the same feeling you felt the first time watching him live. The bass of his growls coming through the stage monitors vibrate in your chest and makes your thighs clench. Sometimes, you wonder how long he can hold his breath as he holds on to notes and screams. You imagine his tattooed hands spreading and gripping your thighs apart uneager to come up for air as he feasts on your aching cunt.

Matt can’t hear your thoughts even standing a few feet from you, but you feel like he can so you sneak cautious glances over at him when these delicious thoughts pass through your mind to he if he reacts in any way.

The show was coming up to ‘Dethrone’. Noah has nearly finished his first encore of the night and you take your place in front of the lighting board with your fingers touching lightly on the sliders Matt showed you earlier.

While waiting patiently for Noah’s cue to you, he finds your eyes in the sound deck. His dark eyes match yours directly. Surely, he can’t be looking at you? You wonder. You feel like a fan in the crowd who’s just made eye contact with their favorite band member for the first time. He nods at you, and then he begins.

“Concrete,” he growls into the mic before ticking his fore and middle fingers at you twice.

“Jungle!” You slide the light faders in tandem and they glow above the stage with each syllable the crowd screams.

Noah and you go back and forth. His eyes never leave yours, even as he paces back and forth on the stage, and he successfully directs you through his chant. The room is packed as it’s a sold-out show, but you feel as though it’s only you two present.

He tosses you a proud smile as he begins ‘Dethrone’ and it makes your legs melt.

Fuck, he’s so hot. Distracted by him, you hadn’t realized the number of times he had unintentionally made you blush and make the hairs on your neck rise. Let alone let you realize the growing need for him building up fast in your abdomen. You want any part of him, and preferably more than a kiss tonight.

You watch him perform their final song in awe; you can imagine your tongue rolling out of your mouth and drooling onto the pit floor.

—

After fans have fully exited the venue, you’re left with Matt in the sound deck with a couple of other guys from the crew.

You catch Matt yawning and he asks, “Are you sleepy yet?”

“I’ve found I have a lot of energy after each show. I’m gonna stay up for a bit,” you explain. Your lying streak made this fib too easy to tell. While you had a lot of energy, it wasn’t because of the music or the atmosphere, it was because of Noah. Impulsive thoughts appear like demonic ghouls floating around in your head whenever your sexual needs aren’t met. You wanted so badly to throw yourself at Noah the second you saw him next; to re-do your first kiss? To go even further? However, you can’t, if Matt is to be too close tonight. He was learning to be okay with you having gone on a date with Noah, but you’re unsure of his reaction if he were to find out about you doing anything more.

“I want to try to get to the showers first, but I should get all of this down so we don’t have to worry about it in the morning,” he stretches.

“Go and shower, get to bed,” you rub Matt’s shoulder with care. “I’m gonna stay here and help out.”

“M’Kay,” he yawns again. “Goodnight, Y/N. Make sure my stuff gets packed up real nicely. You’re the only one I trust.”

“Yes sir,” you give him a faux salute as he walks off toward the back of the venue. You smile at him, but your stomach lurches. He trusts you. He’s in love with you! I am being manipulative, you think guiltily.

You spend around forty-five minutes tearing down the sound deck making sure to pack Matt’s equipment, cords, wires, and laptops carefully away. You handled his things with care, even though you were half-distracted by the throbbing between your legs.

“Y/N,” a male voice calls from behind you.

It’s a crew member’s voice. Their usual lighting and production tech who helps Matt in the sound deck. “Hm?” You turn around to meet his face.

“Go ahead and wind down for the night. We’ll take care of the rest,” he nods toward the back of house. “Thanks for helping.”

“Of course, anytime. Goodnight everyone,” you set what you’re working on down and start walking toward Bad Omen’s green room with a sense of urgency.

Once inside, you grab your bag, your nighttime relaxation clothes, and the clean towel you pack in case you want to take a late-night shower. Tonight you do, but you doubt you’re going to be doing your wash routine.

Please be in here and alone. Please.

“Noah, are you in here?” You call out his name as you push open the door to the showers. The layout of the room is more like a locker room than the past showers you have used at other venues. One side of the room is lined with sizable shower stalls with floor-length curtains for privacy, while the other side of the room has a wall of lockers and benches. On them, you notice Noah’s backpack and nicely folded clothing. His boots sit together underneath the glossy, wooden bench.

“I’m in the second stall,” he talks over the sound of the steaming water raining down over him. A light mist rises over the top of his curtain and dissipates as it hits the ceiling. You can’t see him the way you could the night before.

You bite your lip anxiously. What are you doing? You ask yourself. Your body feels hot by how turned on you are and it keeps you warm as you strip yourself naked. Pulling your panties down your legs, you notice a prominent wet spot accumulated by the pool of your arousal. You stuff all of your belongings into an empty locker and softly click it closed.

His name falls from your lips before you can catch it, “Noah?”

It wasn’t in your plan for him to poke his head through the curtain, but he does. “Yeah?” His voice is innocent, but his eyes widen once he sees the sight of you. Your arms bravely stick to your sides to allow him to gain you in full. “Shit,” he hisses under his breath while making haste with the outline of your body. You watch his eyes roam you as you stand there in heavy silence before he opens the curtain a little more to invite you inside. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he says as you stand in front of him. Once you’re in the stall, you feel like his eyes will never leave yours. So, if you tried to sneak a peek anywhere but his face, he would most definitely know.

“Thank you,” your cheeks feel hot. “Is it okay if I shower with you?”

“Mhm,” he nods and hums. His low tone reverberates against the walls of the shower stall. “I was hoping you would. You have no idea the thoughts that have been running through my head since last night.”

His admission makes you feel tingly. “I hope I’m not moving too fast. This feels so out of character for me,” you shake your hands out.

“I want to move as slow or as fast as you do,” he confides to you in a low tone. His fingers reach to the crook of your neck and trace down your shoulder, to your bicep, to your forearm, and rest to intertwine with your fingers.

“You looked so good on stage tonight,” you admit as you look up at him with shining eyes. “Every night, I watch you perform, and it—,”

“And what?” Noah steps into your bubble. The tips of your breasts just barely graze his skin.

“I get so turned on,” you’re nearly talking into his clavicle. He slightly shutters as your breath hits his skin. “Noah, I’m so pent up, it hurts.”

“I can help,” he nods and his wet bangs sway. You watch the water from his hair drip onto your chest. The varying temperature makes you shiver. He notices this. “Get yourself wet first,” he instructs while switching places with you for you to stand under the running shower head.

You run your hands through your hair and close your eyes to enjoy the heat. You feel the same tickly feeling on your breasts that you always feel around him, so you open your eyes to catch his gaze from your tits when you admit, “Noah, I swear I’m already wet.”

His laugh and toothy smile make you warm inside, as much as the hot water warms your skin on the outside. He leans in close to press a kiss into your cheek, “I want to feel how wet you are, Y/N. But first, I want you to look at me. I give you permission,” his shoulders shake as he laughs at you trying your best to look at every shiny tile that lines the stall rather than his nude form.

When he backs away, your eyes trail his body. The freckles on his shoulders are the first of what you see. You reach out to touch them, but his hands come to your bare hips to push you slowly until you’re both underneath the warm, running water. The water moves in slow motion and you follow it with your eyes as it hits his chest and drips lower to his stomach. His waistline is spotted with water droplets. You take one last big breath before letting your gaze fall to his groin. He’s half hard and the tattoos around his lower stomper and thighs surround his member like he’s a work of art. Your shoulders shake a tiny bit when you chuckle at the sight of his wet leg hair and impatient toes that are dancing, waiting for you to look back up at his face.

You look up to meet Noah’s eyes, but you can’t help but sneak glances at his lips. “You’re so beautiful,” you whisper to him as you wrap your hands behind his neck and pull him down into your kiss.

He hums against your lips as if to thank you. Noah’s arms wrap around your body as you detach and reattach to his mouth in fervor. He scratches your back with his nails and grips the skin of your back. He tastes so good, so fresh. Your tongues fight each other for dominance and you win.

Noah groans when he feels your hand caress down his stomach and slowly makes its way to wrap around his half-hard cock. He feels so warm in your hand like he’s blushing down there. You open your eyes while making out with him and his cheeks are glowing pink. The sight of his dick on your small hand gives you raging confidence and makes your heart burst.

You begin to stroke him while kissing him. He grows harder in your hands and grows longer, and thicker. You move your lips and teeth and attach them to the side of his neck as he allows heavy breaths to fall from his lips. “I like the way your cock hardens in my hand,” you moan in his ear.

Noah grips your ass and it makes you pull away from his neck to whine. “I like that,” he moans. “So fucking much, you don’t even know. But, I want to help you. You can make me cum another time.”

You bite your lip and nod.

“Spread your legs, just a little bit,” he commands in a low tone. You spread your legs apart and he praises, “Yeah, just like that.”

He dips his head to your left breast and latches on, tongue first, to the nipple while kneading your other breast with his hand fingers. Water splashes off to the sides of the shower as he presses himself into you.

“Ah,” you whine when his dominant hand leaves your chest to snake between your bodies to your core. The pads of his fingers find your clit and give you a firm press before sliding through your folds, curiously.

Your dazed eyes meet Noah’s as he pulls his hand from your cunt to show you the clear, slimy juices that drool down his fingers. “I really do turn you on, huh?” He boasts before sticking his fore and middle fingers between his lips and lapping your arousal away.

“Mhm,” you moan at the sight of him licking his fingers clean.

Noah plays with your nipples with his empty hand while the right one is brought back to your pussy. “Do you remember when I heard you say my name?”

“Hm?” You’re dizzy and can’t fully think of what he’s referring to.

“The second night of the tour. The morning after, I asked you if you needed to ask me a question because I heard you say my name,” he explains while rubbing your clit in expert figure-eights. “Noah.”

Your eyes shoot open and meet his eyes, but they’re attached to your lips. “I was touching myself. Thinking about you,” you admit while whining on his fingers.

Suddenly, his fingers pinch your clit gently, but with enough force to make you cry out, “Noah.” The pain makes you shutter and collapse against his form.

“I’ve been waiting to hear my name come from your perfect lips again,” he chuckles while pinching your nipples at the same time. “Good girl. Now, tell me what you were thinking about.”

“I was thinking about, fuck,” you grind against his hand as he releases your clit to palm your cunt. “I brought my favorite sex toys with me. I was imagining you using them on me.”

“We can do whatever you want,” he speaks low into your ear before kissing your neck. His longest fingers prod your entrance and tease your pussy with quick, shallow pumps. The palm of his hand presses firmly into your clit and you grab his forearm for balance. You feel it flex under your fingers. “Do you want to cum on my fingers?”

“Yes, please, I need you—,” you squeak out.

The sound of the locker room door swinging open causes Noah to turn you around and press your back against his chest. His hard cock rests against your ass and you want to grind on him so badly, to make him feel good too.

“Noah, could I borrow your phone charger? I’ve lost mine already,” you hear Nick call out to Noah from the entrance of the room.

Noah covers your mouth with his hand and you breathe softly through your nose. His other hand cautiously rubs circles on your throbbing, aching clit as he responds, “Yeah, Nick, that’s fine. You can find it in the second pocket of my backpack.”

You start to grind up against Noah feeling his dick harden against your skin, again, and his hand pressing hard into your private region. You need relief.

Nick’s footsteps echo through the room, and you can feel your heartbeat matching the pace of his steps; so quick and to the point.

Noah continues his movements but goes a bit further to test the waters. He uses his weight to hike you up a bit further and you get the sign to stand on your tiptoes and bend your knees just a bit. Noah reaches his fingers between your thighs again and dips them in your slick cunt, slowly.

Your eyes roll back into your head, and you do your best to stay silent. You hope the running shower can hide how your breath hitches as Noah curls his fingers inside of you, stretching you out.

“Nick, when you find it,” Noah’s voice vibrates against you, “you can keep it. I have two others in my bunk.”

“Thanks, man. I got it now. Good night!” Nick says before you hear his steps towards the door and the door closing behind him.

With Nick gone, you moan against Noah’s palm on your mouth freely. His fingers are slim, but they’re so long and reach the best spots inside of you. His thumb rubs your clit as he fucks you with his fingers.

“Such a good girl for staying quiet,” he praises and removes his hand from fully covering your mouth only to prod your lips with his fingers to stuff them between your teeth. “Now, be loud for me.”

His name is broken as you try to say it, “No-ahhhhh, ple—please!” Your eagerness for full relief drives you to grind harder on his fingers, so much, you're bouncing on them and doing the work for him.

Noah supports your hips so you don’t slip on the wet tile. “I know, I know,” he says daringly while kissing the crown of your head. “Go ahead and cum, you deserve it.”

“Fuck, thank you—,” you hiss as you reach up and tangle your fingers up into the back of his hair. You release on his fingers and he hooks them to repeatedly hit your G-spot as you ride through your high.

“That was so hot,” he praises into your ear. “But, let’s try not to get caught again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you laugh as you stand while holding the wall for support.

“Let me clean you up. We still need to actually take our showers,” he holds your waist and pulls you back into the water.

—

“Are the showers going to start being our new meeting place?” He chuckles as wraps your fresh towel around your shoulders. The one you stuffed into the locker when you came in. You patted yourself on the back for remembering to do it or else Nick would have definitely known you two were hearing together.

“Maybe,” you shrug at him with a smile. While you enjoyed your private meetings, you also wished you could say and do everything you wanted to you with him in front of everyone else. You could feel that keeping things secret was starting to get harder on your mental health. Sex is the main thing you don't mind keeping behind closed doors.

Noah’s head pops up as if he has had an epiphany. “Do you want to go on another date before we go to sleep?”

“Of course!” you match his excitement with your arms loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Good, because I already have an idea of where can go,” Noah reaches into the front pocket of his backpack to retrieve his phone. You peak at his screen as he opens his Yelp account and searches for the best milkshakes nearby.

—

Noah sits across from you in a black hoodie covering his hair. His lips are wrapped around one of the white and red striped bendy straws in your shared cookies and cream milkshake. He giggles as you pull out your phone to take a picture of him and his hand comes to cover your phone camera.

You playfully fight his hand away while snapping a couple of shaky pictures. “I need more pictures of you!” You whine. “You took so many of me when we were in Boston.”

“We can take one together,” he pulls his phone out of his hoodie pocket and angles it towards your faces. You both take a sip from the shake and he takes a picture. He looks at it before showing you, “You’re so cute.”

“Mhm,” you hum, sipping through your straw. This milkshake was definitely in the top three of all you have ever had. Noah knows how to pick good places.

“So, tell me,” he sits up a little higher in his seat before leaning forward. “Everything. Everything about you that you didn't day on our first date.”

“Noah, it’s past midnight,” you chuckle, but he still looks at you with eager eyes. He wants to know you. Everything about you. You mentally note that one day you could reach the level of comfort that Matt and you have, and you want to try to get there with Noah. “We have the next two days to talk, too,” you kick your legs in excitement and he smiles when they brush him. It’s pretty easy to touch him; his long legs take up the majority of the space under the tiny table you’re sitting at. “What should we do with all of our free time?”

“I have one idea of how we can spend a lot of our time together,” he shrugs and gives you a knowing smile.

“What?” You giggle with your tongue on the straw.

“You could share a bed with me at the hotel we get to stay in for the next two nights,” he suggests.

Your eyebrows raise in intrigue, “Mmm.”

“We would have to have one other person to share our room with us for the room costs to be worth it, but I would get to sleep next to you for real, instead of across from you,” he plays with his hands over the table.

“We’ve slept next to each other every night on the bus,” you think out loud. “I would feel comfortable with that, I think.”

Noah moves his fidgeting to the strings of his hoodie. You love to watch how nervous he gets talking to you. It’s charming. “I really like the way we talk to each other across the short space between us when everyone else is asleep,” he admits and you pout your lip at him in awe. “I’ve never told you this, but sometimes I’ll stay up and watch you sleep when you forget to close your curtain.”

You lean forward and rest your hand on your cheek.

“Also, because I stay up,” he sips on his straw. “That’s how I knew about— you know?”

You gulp down the shake in your mouth so as not to choke on it. He’s referencing what he reminded you of earlier in the shower. Noah. “Oh, yeah, that.” Your face heats up.

One of his hands shoots towards your open hand resting on the table. “That didn’t bother me by the way,” he reassures. “I’m flattered, honestly. Feel free to think about me all the time.”

You giggle before watching his fingers interlace with yours.

“You make me really excited, Y/N. I haven’t thought about being in a relationship with anyone for a long time. I feel so preoccupied with so many other things, but when I think about that with you… it feels possible.”

“Noah, that feels so good to know,” you say softly, it’s almost a whisper. You feel vulnerable now. “You have no idea how much of a dream it is to get to know you that way I had when I was just a fan three months ago.”

“I love that you’re a fan, but you’re also my equal. I was pulled into you the second I saw you. I still think back to us sitting on the patio bench at the L.A. studio together,” he squeezes your hand.

“Me too,” you agree. You two sit in comfortable silence for a beat.

“You don’t have to tell me everything I need to know about you, yet,” he chuckles. But, before we go back, can I ask you two questions?”

You push the empty shake glass to the side and hold both of his hands in the center of the table. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I want,” he says. “First, do you say yes to at least rooming with me at the hotel the next two nights?”

“Yes,” you nod with an excited smile. Whether you’ll have to live with the consequences of your answer or not, you’ll see.

“Lucky me,” he smiles. “Second—,” he takes his time to continue, “what are you looking for with your time with me? Is it just fun, a relationship… I want to know.”

[enzenwriting]

7 days -without a week pt2 (2.3k words)

Jake sim x reader. #angst #fluff

Jake feels the warm air in the morning, a little too humid for his liking but he doesn’t think much of it. He does his usual suburban routine- wake up, get ready and hop in his car to drive to university. Or so he thinks.

1 seconds…48 second… 5 minutes passes and he’s still there. He hadn’t even started his car….

He thinks he forgets something, maybe his biology book but remember it’s physics lecture today. Or maybe he was supposed to wear a different outfit. He can’t figure it out.

He feels like something is missing but can’t point out what it is. Shrugging it off, he starts his drive and your tune starts playing 2 minute into the drive.

“Y/N please, it’s too early-“

He realises you’re not next to him. (Awkward)🐦‍⬛

Opting on turning off the music altogether, he then starts hearing your voice. Damn, he might be going KINDA insane. What’s next? Seeing you?

Surprise! Yes he does (really!) he sees you on the bus stop laughing with euijoo. He thanks the universe that he’s stuck on a traffic because he would’ve crashed the car💀 (either with car infront of him… or with EJ what)

You don’t notice him when he discreetly opens his car window. Damn, why’d u just ignore your bestie like that?

PAUSE JAKE REMEMBERS.

Ok so your reaction might be valid on this one………

Jake shrugs it off, you’d been angry at him many times before, you’ll come around in a week.

You’ll be back greeting him in the morning half asleep, in his car singing to your tune, running over new food places and maybe planning weekend movie schedule.

You’ll hang around him during lunch anyway, it’s not like you can change it a day🥴

Well apparently you can…. because he doesn’t see you all morning and as soon as you entere the uni’s canteen, your direction was STRAIGHT towards euijoo and your other casual friends.

Jake is speechless, were you really that mad. It’s starting to be a little petty. 😬

“If you keep glaring at them like that, you’ll burn a hole on euijoo’s head” -Jay.

Jake was TOTALLY not starring😡

“Missing your girlfriend Jakey?~” poor Riki doesn’t understand the situation but boy did that hit a nerve

“Fuck off, she’s not my girlfriend and I’m glad she finally got my message”

“What do you mean? Did you say something mean to y/n? ” Jay’s got our back🥹

Jake can’t stand it. He can’t stand the bickering and he can’t stand you laughing at euijoo. He wasn’t THAT funny. Hoon’s stupid miso joke was funnier than his whole being. So Jake just left everyone����

Heeseung explains the whole situation because damn…. The whole team heard the yelling, so your behaviour IS TOTALLY valid

They can’t say the same with Jake’s reactions though

Jake is balancing between being a kicked puppy or an angry rabid dog. No between.

Jake looks like he’d been abandoned by you. He looks at you longer and more often than he did. And they don’t miss way it gets a little intense when you’re with euijoo.

And Jake slowly notices too.

It’s been a little under 5 days when he’s realising your missing presence. The empty drive going to university and back, the seat next to him in classes you both share, and his phone notifications.

5 days never felt long and unbearable. And you weren’t budging. You’d been avoiding him all together and it’s going strong

and when they say karma hits back, it really went back at the best time for Jake.

Really. At the end of 5th day, he was benched out again during practice for spacing out. “Jake… if u gets benched out for the nth time again, you might get benched during the game in 2 weeks fr” -coach.

WTF. That on top of you avoiding him like a plague doesn’t make Jake feel good anymore.

He takes a break and by miracle, he sees you when he went to get his water bottle filled!!!

Suddenly, he felt a huge sense of relief seeing you. It’s like your presence is a natural remedy to his fatigue.

Jake didn’t know why but he is drawn towards you, forgetting his half filled bottle by the fountain. His mouth opened, ready to call out your name-

Freeze

He watched you jogged up to none other than euijoo, handing him a drink. euijoo’s arm swings around you, hand circling on your small back. A small laugh eliciting from you as he whispers something on your ear, both walking towards the exit.

Jake’s pupils were shaking as he watched the scene, the interaction was SO casual. SO affectionate. The interaction you’ve always had reserved for him. The action that should only be for him. He IS your best friends after all.

Jake broke his thoughts when he felt an ugly pain in chest, and small yet piercing pricks on his insides. The piercing pain gets worse when he remembers euijoo’s arm around you…. and your smile.

He hasn’t seen you in a while, and maybe- just maybe… he thought talking to you and seeing your smile will make everything all okay again.

Jake clicked his tongue, brushing his hair back before heading to the gym.

“Day 6 of Byun Euijoo babysitting a sad heartbroken hopeless romantic. Thank you for these chocolates” you sigh

“Don’t be a sadist. Just focus on your chocolate and find us a cafe to visit after class today so your brain preoccupied . My treat” his hand coming up to pinch your cheek hard.

You and euijoo are 🤞🏻. A little back story: You’ve got the realest sibling dynamics. You met euijoo I one of your class; and he was lk a jakeyn shipper at how cute you two were until he found you crying while eating ice cream the day the fight happened.

boy forced out that information OUT of you. and since, the new founded brotherly care instinct came out

You swat his hand away and just like that, annoying you became the focus of the next 5 minutes

But you weren’t the only one ‘annoyed’ at Euijoo. 6 tables from you, remains the inner rabid boy.

“You know. If you really want something to happen, you should just talk to y/n. You’re acting like her when you used to pay more attention to other girls than her and she’d get all jealous and quiet” - Heeseung

Wait- that’s why you were quiet in some days? Why hadn’t you told him? He was your best friend. “Jealous?”

“Yep. Dont know if you hadn’t noticed, u glare at them looking all mean an’ rough. Playground bully vibe.” Ri-ki joked, trying to ease the awkward tension

“naauuurr no way, im not jealous or anything”

“You need to seriously stop lying to yourself. If the world made you two childhood friend and got a long so well together, you’re both bound to develop feelings and accepting them instead of being in denial is a lot easier than ruining whatever u guys had” Jay groaned in annoyance.

“What the fuck was that supposed to mean?” Jake felt anger overwhelm him .”y/n was the one who kept pushing her romantic feelings on me. I’m supposed to be her best friend, nothing more”

Oh he could be NOT this stewwwpid

“You keep saying you’re her best friend but are you even being hers?” Jay shot back defensively, jaw clenching tightly. Jay had equally known you way back too, so he can be defensive when it comes to it. (GO JAY🫶)

“And you’re blaming y/n? You’re more than just being fucking stupid now. Y/n had never forced her romantic feelings on you beyond your boundaries. All this time, she was being a good best friend waiting for you to return something someday. But you? You’re the shittiest best friend.” JAW DROPPPED.

“Get your head out of your ass and wake up, if you just showed a bit of interest with y/n and became a good best friend to her, then this wouldn’t have happened in the first place” Jay… marry me atp

“You don’t know shit Jay. This whole bestfriend and romance is too fucked up” (Jake pls respectfully shut up babs)

“if this situation is fucked up, then what about you Sim? Don’t you think it’s fucked up that you keep hurting your own childhood best friend for nothing? Acting like a fucking brat each time she’s around”

“What” Jake might just be shaking rn

“You just tossed away her feelings, trying to be ignorant of your own. You didn’t think she wouldn’t notice, right? Taking her kindness for granted, rolling your eyes at her whenever she was a little too happy at your actions, and throwing her gift.“

“I NEVER DID-“

“Yeah, that letter she wrote you and you threw it right in the trash infront of her face? Fuck you. And she’d come and smile at me saying you were having a bad day ”

Jake couldn’t respond, he didn’t know want to say. He admits some of the things he’s done in the past weren’t nice, but he was just upset when those things happened.

Maybe that was the coldest wake up call

“It’s not hard to admit you’re in the wrong. You’re ignoring the fact you like her and masking it as best friend. No wonder y/n is replacing you with euijoo. He should’ve been her-“

Before Jay could finish, Jake pushed him by the chest.

“Oh hyung that’s kinda little too far-“ Riki couldn’t even finish his sentence too

And it all happened in a single second

Jake launched himself onto Jay, grabbing the boy by the collar and his right fist, collided against the side of Jay’s mouth.

All this in the canteen too. And you saw. You were ready to walk up to Jake but you felt euijoo’s hand on yours, shaking his head to say it wasn’t for you to interfere before dragging you away.

At 6pm, Jake find himself in his bedroom. His room filled with memories of you two. It doesn’t really help the situation. Polaroid of you two on his wall, the old (and his first!) basketball you gave him, your doodles on his books….

But you’re not there, next to him laughing and watching some Netflix shows over takeout

In fact, he can’t remember the last time you came over to watch Netflix show after he stopped you because someone had suggested it was too romantically domestic and you didn’t protest.

Now his thought is on you. Were you doing that with euijoo now? Did he return the same feeling as you felt and didn’t hold himself in the guise of friendship? He would make you way more happier than he ever could.

He’s literally mentally and physically tired at the though.

Jake turned over to his stomach, burying his face against his pillows. His heart ached even more with a dull pain.

This is what he wanted right? But now he was wishing for nothing more than to restart this friendship with feelings with you.

It took 7 days for Jake to realise everything. He arrived to university, messy hair and dark circles. His steps is towards his group of friends, especially towards Jay who’s sporting a dark cut on his lip.

“I’m sorry. You were right Jay. I didn’t have the right to get mad at y/n for developing feelings and showing them when I’m no better. I guess I did too, but tried to push it as friendship. I was just scared”

“And, I wasn’t really mad at y/n or you guys. I was just really mad at myself for letting it get this far and-“

“Hey, it’s okay Sim. We forgive you. All that matters is you’ve acknowledged your mistakes and feelings. Now we just have to work on them” Jay chuckled, attempting to comfort the sulking boy

Oh how Jake wished you’d say the same after all this

At lunch, Jake is aware of the soft sound of your laughter at the back of the room, making his heart heavy .

He watched you say something to Nicholas and Gaeul excitedly. He smiled at the sight, adoring the wide smile on your lips.

As if his feelings crashed all too sudden, he’s hit with the realisation that you’ll probably never look at him like that anymore.

“Hey guys! I know this might be sudden, but the art club are needing help for the cultural festival. Do you have time to help even for an hour? I know you might be busy with basketball so you can skip when you have practice” Under class Kim Sunoo appeared like the ray of sunshine infront of the guys.

Jake has no time

“We already have few people joining! Y/n just signed up to help-“

“I HAVE THE TIME” eyes on Jake.

“You do?” Heeseung side eyes him.

“We all do. Sign us all up!” Maybe he’s definitely using this to finally have the chance to talk to you

He’s not even sure where this sudden resolution is coming from? But this might be a sign

Let’s just say Sunoo walks out of the canteen the happiest he’d ever been😁

He can’t take back what he’s already said and done

7 days without you felt empty.

And he’ll return those 7 days to make up for the lost minutes, days and week without your presence.

7 days he’ll give his best to show you what he should’ve done for you.

7 days… he hopes he’ll have you back

⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

an: this might’ve been too long than I planned so stay tuned for last part/pt3 !!!!!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

[hinatiny]

plans ruined but that's okay ੈ✩‧₊˚ sugawara koshi

when you wake up to an unexpected storm, you realize you have to procrastinate everything you had scheduled on a particular saturday. nothing that can be helped, really, and sugawara is quite happy about that.

w.c: 0.6k

the rain is heavy outside, harshly pattering against the window, to the point it slowly begins to bring you out of your pleasant sleep. through blurry eyes and thin linen curtains, it’s hard to see it but it’s definitely pouring. you think about how the weather forecast last night must’ve been spitting bullshit, because you’re greeted by anything but the clear blue sky it had predicted—you quickly realize that everything on your to-do list for the day might as well be crossed out.

even though summer hasn’t even ended yet, there’s a slight chill in the air. when you sit up and the covers slide down your frame, it raises goosebumps on your skin. it’s humid too, making the room feel the slightest bit icky. you reach for the phone on the nightstand table, only briefly to check what time it is, and sigh upon seeing it’s just a few minutes past six.

still, you try to make the best of it. the weather might not be the ideal one what goes your now ruined plans, but there’s a sense of comfort in the sound of bulleting hail. in tune with flashes of light, occasional thunder reverberates between the clouds but you’re in the security of your home; the roaring it comes with only becomes another background noise. you’re not fully awake enough to prepare breakfast really yet, but the idea of having a warm beverage in the incoming storm is quite tempting. thinking about it, maybe it’s a good thing that you no longer can do any of the plans you had for today. maybe you don’t have to feel bad about going back to sleep for just a little longer.

the arm around your waist seems to agree.

its loose hold suddenly tightens and although the fingertips around your side barely press into your shirt, you soon find yourself pulled back to the sheets again. your head misses the pillows a terribly lot, but you can already tell it’s impossible to move in the grip you’re kept in. "suga, can i at least—"

"no." "at least hear me o—" "no, you’re going to get out of bed." "i just want my pillows." "..."

sugawara eases his arm around you, and you’re able to find the softness of the pillows. just as fast, you’re carefully hauled back to his chest. calm breaths warm your nape at an even pace. it’s not like there’s anything remotely close to danger around you but in this embrace, you feel safer than ever; like you’re meant to melt into each other, like two tangible halves of a complete serenity.

"can’t we just stay at home today?"

you chuckle at his suggestion, feeling a light tingle in your stomach when the chime of it makes him smile against your shoulder. "it’s not like we can do much in this weather." he mumbles, something you can’t hear properly but you guess it’s something close to a satisfied good. it really isn’t, considering how much there is to do, but the longer you stay in this peace, the less you can bring yourself to care. you let yourself relax into the sheets instead, into the reassuring hold around you. this is good too.

sugawara lies there no better than you. in fact, as unusual as it is for his routine-proper self, he cares even less than you do about… nearly everything. it’s saturday, your scheduled plans are ruined, there’s nothing you can do about it and he’s shamelessly glad about that. he’s satisfied with staying in bed for a while longer, maybe even for hours if not the entire day, because the tranquility of your closeness makes him feel like there’s no need to mind anything else.

"uh, suga… my plants are still on the balcony."

truly, anything else.

"i don’t care, let them drown."

[tinybeetiny]

Proposal: Maknae Line

I split this into 2 parts because it was getting sooooo long anyways:

I know this isn't how traditional Korean proposals are... but I was raised in the US sooooooooooooo yeah :)

If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

CW: Explicit language, cringey mushy, i tried not to repeat themes and stuff....

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Ateez Wedding Masterlist | Hyung Line

San:

San had bought the ring MONTHS ago but he never found the right moment. He knew you didn’t like the cheesy grand gestures but he figured you wouldn't want something as nonchalant as a “Hey bud, marry me?” So he felt a little stuck. He thought Wooyoung would be able to help but he would always gave some crazy idea that made San rethink their friendship (JK they’re the real soulmates). After some extensive research, he found the perfect place.

“You want to do what?” You ask looking up from your phone “I want to go on a hike!” San said very VERY excited “Um honey… you know I’m not an outdoorsy person (I’m so sorry if you actually are)” you said hesitantly raising an eyebrow at your bouncing boyfriend “Please baby! It’ll be so much fun. I looked up the trail and it’s not even that far. Pretty smooth terrain!” San practically begged and who were you to deny your man of anything especially when he was so excited about it.

When the day finally came around you instantly regretted agreeing to come on this hike. Not only was it humid as all hell but the mosquitoes sensed you were gonna come outside that day and decided they would also like to be out as well “San. I’m getting devoured here. Why don’t we go back home and we can have a lazy day instead” you try to coax him back to the car “Nu-uh, you already agreed! No backing out now” he said taking your hand dragging you to the trail. It was a long hike before you reached the desired destination. “WAIT!” San yelled before turning to you “Close your eyes” You gave him a skeptical look “Why? What are you going to do to me?” You asked very suspicious of him.

The past couple of weeks he had been very sneaky and secretive, slamming his laptop shut whenever you came out of the room. You just figured he was watching porn or something but there was this lingering feeling it was something else. You hesitantly closed your eyes not expecting him to pick you up bridal style “What are you doing San?” You questioned as you wrapped your arms around his neck anxiously “I don’t want you to trip” he said, you could hear the smile in his voice. It took 30 seconds for San to walk to his desired location but the entire time he kept looking down to make sure you still had your eyes closed wanting to keep the element of your surprise. Your arms tightened around his neck when you felt yourself descending to the ground "Relax baby, I won't let you fall" he whispered in your ear. You hesitantly removed your arms once you felt your feet touch the ground "Keep your eyes closed just a little longer" You focused on your surroundings hearing the sound of a loud waterfall and the strong smell of nature took over your senses. It seemed as if the mosquitoes disappeared as well.

San took a moment to take in the surroundings, the way the sun reflected off the water, the trees gave enough privacy from wandering eyes, and the freshness of the scenery made him smile. "Okay! Open your eyes" He said with much excitement. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness from the sun but once they did you couldn't help but gasp, partly from the beautiful scenery but mostly at the image of San on one knee a few feet in front of you. "San, what are you doing?" You question not fully understanding. His eyes fill with realization before reaching into his pocket to retrieve the little black box "Oh my gosh" "Iloveyousomuchandiwanttospendforeverandeverwithyoupleasemarryme" He rushed (more like screamed) out, you stare at him for a minute not understanding a word he said "huh?" San took a deep breath for a moment "I love you so much and I want to spend forever and ever with you, please marry me" He said with a little more confidence "Yes, a thousand times yes" You said through tears. San was up in an instant taking you into his arms, and placing a firm kiss to your lips. He slid the ring on your finger finding it to fit perfectly "You know, we didn't have to hike for you to propose to me. You could've asked me at home but I love the effort either way"

Mingi:

"Wow Mingi, It's beautiful up here." You say staring over the edge of the balcony at the vast city below you "A beautiful date for my beautiful girl" He said with a silly grin on his face, you turned side-eyeing him for a moment "If I hear one more cheesy line from you I'm going to jump" you threaten, the whole plane ride over he was hitting you with cheesy pickup lines he read online somewhere... and it was a LONG flight but Mingi insisted on going to New York for your next date. But who are you kidding you loved every single word that came out of his mouth "Shush and come here so we can eat" he chuckled as he motioned for you to join him on the blanket he had set up, a rooftop picnic in New York seemed like a dream. You and Mingi had talked about quite literally everything from their upcoming tour to the bird that landed next to you the other day. It was a nice quiet change from your day-to-day craziness.

Up on this rooftop, it was just Mingi and you, no screaming fans, no work calls, no other soul to interrupt. Once you finished eating Mingi cleared everything and you positioned yourself in his arms not wanting this night to end "I don't want to go back yet Min, can we stay a little longer?" you say as you snuggle deeper into his chest "However long you want my love" His words a little muffled as he places a kiss to the top of your head "But first I have something I need to do" He says standing and pulling you to your feet as well. You look up at him a little confused as he takes a few deep breaths trying to calm his racing heart. It's always been you no matter what, no matter what he was going through he always thought of you. You were the one called when his mind got the best of him and yet you're the reason for his nerves now, not that he would ever change that. This is something he's been NEEDING to do for a while and there was no better moment than now. With one final deep breath, he knelt down on one knee, your eyes widening in surprise, and before he could even get a word out or even begin his speech he most definitely did not prepare you screamed a yes in his face. Mingi paused for a second not expecting your reaction at all. He stood with a wide smile on his face sliding the ring on and instantly running the the railing "SHE SAID YES" Mingi yelled to no one in particular and considering how high you were you would think no one would be able to hear but with how loud he was you wouldn't be surprised.

Wooyoung:

Wooyoung had asked you a total of 5 times, and each time you told him no. The last time he asked was 4 weeks ago at a nice restaurant right outside of Seoul, you knew it was coming just from the way he was acting. The food had just arrived and Wooyoung cleared his throat before you could start eating. He stood up and got down on one knee but before he could even get a word out you shook your head "Get your ass back in your seat now" you whisper yelled, Wooyoung blinked before pretending to tie his shoe.

The rest of the dinner was... quiet. It's not that you didn't want him to propose you just didn't want something so public, but Woo was so outgoing that he wanted a grand gesture to show how big his love for you really was. "I don't know what to do Hwa, she keeps saying no, maybe she doesn't actually want to marry me" He felt defeated "I don't think that's the issue here, have you guys ever talked about it before? Like what her dream proposal is or something?" Seonghwa questioned him, now that he mentioned it you guys never really talked about the whole proposal thing, you talked about everything after. "Maybe she doesn't want something so big and public. You can still make an effort without it being too much" Seonghwa gave him a couple pats on the back before getting up and leaving.

"Please San! Yeosand already said he would help me" Wooyoung was begging at this point, he had thought of the perfect plan but he needed people to help "I told you man if I cancel again she's going to kill me, ask Mingi he's got nothing planned" San said before they hung up. Sighing, Wooyoung opted to text Mingi demanding his assistance rather than asking which to his surprise he agreed right away.

"You want it here?" Mingi asked holding the giant heart in the OPPOSITE direction of where Woo wanted it "NO, give it here, take these rose petals and spread them like this" Wooyoung exasperated. Mingi and Yeosang shared glances both having the same thought, Wooyoung was acting like a bridezilla and he wasn't even the bride. "Is this good enough Woo?" Yeosang asked after spreading the last of the rose petals "I think so, I texted her to meet me around 7 and it's-" Wooyoung paused to look at his phone "OH SHIT IT'S 6:50, I HAVE TO CHANGE, YOU TWO GET, THANK YOU FOR YOUR HARD WORK BUT YOU GOTTA GO" He yelled pushing the two out of the door. He got changed in record time giving him 2 minutes before your arrival. 2 minutes to calm his nerves. 2 minutes before potentially changing his life forever (he's quite the dramatic king I love it).

"Hello? Woo? Are you here?" He heard your sweet voice calling out to him "IN HERE MY LOVE" He called back. He heard your heels clicking closer and closer until you reached the slightly cracked door, with a tentative push you opened it the rest of the way. "Hey, what was so urgent that you-" You stopped mid-sentence noticing the rose petals at your feet. Your eyes continued to travel until they landed on your boyfriend, then the giant heart with the four words that you've heard five times now but this time felt different. This time it felt more personal, not so many eyes, just Wooyoung and you. "So, what do you say?" he asked hopeful that you would say yes this time. He just about shit himself when he saw you smile, nodding your head as you made your over to him. "Are you being serious right now?" He asked shocked that you actually said yes "Yes Woo, I'm saying yes. I really wanted this moment for us to just be US. It means a lot to me and I'm not willing to share it with anyone else. That's why I kept saying no. Everything was too much" you said taking his hand into yours "Oh come on, not EVERYTHING was too much" he said rolling his eyes "The ostrich....?" you question him tilting your head "HEY it was the one Seonghwa rode, I think" "Why would I want that?!"

Jongho:

Jongho wasn’t too into grand gestures, he'd much rather keep things lowkey but he couldn’t be too lowkey. He always wanted to keep the intimate moments of your relationship private, not really posting about or talking about it publicly. That doesn't mean he didn't cherish you more than anything, keeping all your moments via photos and videos. After 1 year he had to buy more storage on his phone seeing as it was all taken up by you. He had thought long and hard about how he was going to go about this until he figured he could put all these pictures to good use. It took him a good 2 weeks to put everything together seeing as though there were thousands of photos to go through and he wasn't trying to have a 2- hour movie which was honestly very hard, he had a lot of favorites. "Seonghwa. I need to borrow something" Jongho stated, not even asking “what do you need to borrow?” Seonghwa asked cautiously “pillows”

"Oh Jongie! This looks amazing, I can't wait to- are those Seonghwa’s pillows?" You turn giving him a questioning look, he only shrugs in response motioning you to sit. You cuddle up on the blanket as he reaches for the remote. "So, what movie did you pick out?" You ask as he turns on the projector "The Wailing" he smirks as he watches your eyes widen in horror "The what? You know I don't like scary movies" You whined, rolling your eyes. Jongho kisses the side of your head, snuggling you closer.

He presses play and his voice is the first thing you hear "Hey (Y/n)... and future me. I bet you're so confused right now, bet you look so cute too." You feel him chuckle next to you. He was right, you were extremely confused. You were fully expecting to be scared out of your pants instead you see your boyfriend's face up on the screen "Now that you can see my handsome face I'll explain. I wanted to put together a little something to show how much I love you! So sit back and relax, with me. and enjoy" He gives a wide gummy smile before he disappears and a picture of you from your first date shows up. You look over at Jongho and find him staring intently at the screen.

The slide show continues and you feel yourself tearing up. You felt several tears run down your cheeks as a little video of the 7 boys popped up “hey shorty, I hope you’re pleasantly surprise! He’s been working on this for like almost a month now” you hear Hongjoong say “you’re the last person to be calling someone shorty” Wooyoung pointed out. He quickly shut his mouth when Hongjoong gave him a side eye. The rest of the boys gave their little speeches of how they think you’re so great and the perfect fit for their maknae. The floodgates finally opened when Jongho popped up on the screen again “Hi again baby! Did you like my surprise? I bet you did! I bet you’re crying right now. Anyways. I’m gonna let me take over from here. I love you” You feel Jongho move next to you, looking over to you seen him knelt on one knee “Holy shit” you gasp “I love you more than anything in this world. Will you marry me?” He asks with hopeful eyes “yes oh my gosh yes absolutely I will marry you” you cry tackling him into a hug “oh hold on” he says reaching for the remote. He presses a button and the boys are on the screen again screaming and cheering while Wooyoung is running around in circles “what is this?” You laugh “it’s their reaction to you saying yes… you don’t want to see the other….”

[fqrcefields]

checkmate!

summary _ , jennifer barkley despises every citizen of pawnee indiana. except for one.

⋆ tags : smut-adjacent? not really sure how to tag this. mature! ⭑ࣶࣸ 

read on ao3.

 ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀────୨ৎ────

From the moment she steps out of the impossibly cheap cab, Jennifer could feel the dullness in the air. Though she appreciates the lack of typical Washington humidity, there’s a replaced sense of total unhealth, of total lack of spirit and verve. As she enters Pawnee City Hall for the first time, it takes all of her might to not turn around and flee. She doesn’t like to use the word poor, but…

Who is she kidding. She loves to use the word. And this town, if one can even call it a town, is dripping in it. 

Jen hates to speak to these people. Anyone dressed in business casual attire is not worthy of her time. So, she finds her way to the competition’s office herself. Her heels stick to the floor with each quick step— she moves far faster than any of the sluggish clerks and absurdly high-ranking city officials that don’t seem to really be doing any work at all. Every door she pulls open is also covered in this same sickening stickiness. Thank God for the invention of handkerchiefs.

“Oh, Jesus.” Jennifer can’t help the words from spewing out when she pulls open the door to the Parks and Recreation offices. It’s just all so… sad. The menial workers don’t react to her entrance, barely do anything at their desk anyway. She scowls at the sight of it, of the aging employees typing with only two fingers at a time and the younger ones who stare at their phones instead of doing anything meaningful. Everything is so slow, nothing like the pace of a D.C. election circuit. A real election, something actually worth Jen’s brain power. But hey, it’s easy work, and she’d be damned not to take it. The moment she and the man-child win this town over, she’ll be off to summer on an island. What island, she could not possibly care less. As long as it’s far away from Pawnee, Indiana.

Not seeing the yapping, overexcitable blonde anywhere, Jennifer’s eyes land instead on a much more pleasant sight. The youngest employee who sits with her feet propped on the desk in front of her, reading a book. She has a jadedness about her, as if in this building filled with people who barely know how to do their job, she is the one that wants to do it the least. While Jennifer would usually find this disinterest so stale, especially on someone of this age, there’s something beneath the sideswept bangs that intrigues her, attracts her.

Jen straightens herself, takes the few steps it takes to make it to the younger woman’s desk, leans over it a bit.

“Excuse me,” She says louder than necessary in the near-silent room. The raven-haired employee does not reply, only sticks up one finger as if to say my book is more important than you, continues reading. Jennifer is… impressed. A smirk rises to her lips at the action, and she waits patiently. Though she’d never accept such a thing in her own office, she appreciates the challenge. At least there’s one other person in this God-forsaken town that’s willing to play chess where the others play checkers.

When her challenger finally finishes her chapter, she sets down her book and raised finger, finally glances up at Jennifer. Her eyes widen for a moment, a minute expression that would barely be caught if it weren’t quite literally Jennifer’s job to catch such a thing. The smirk still evident on her own face, Jen speaks up again.

“I’m here to see Leslie Knope.” She leans over the desk a bit more, wishing she weren’t so damn buttoned up, wishing to see that bewildered expression on the intern’s face again.

“Uhm, yeah.” The other says plainly, her voice shockingly deep, carrying the same indifference that the rest of her does. She then realizes her place, must recognize Jennifer Barkley for who she is, and sits up straight in her chair, feet dropping to the floor. She points to the door at her left. “Her office is in there.”

There’s the blush that Jennifer had been looking for. She pulls back, straightens up, flicks her hair over the shoulder once, twice. She turns on her heels with ever the dramatic flair and walks to where the black-painted nail had directed her. Even though this meeting would be excruciating, at least she’d have this little memory of Knope’s pretty receptionist. Or whatever lousy job title the woman held.

“Hey, aren’t you that lady that called Leslie a dog murderer?” The deep voice calls out again, eliciting a silent laugh from Jennifer. As she enters the next room, she looks back over her shoulder, winks to the girl. Jen hates to wear a smile as she enters this meeting, but the puzzled expression she’d been met with could only bring such a thing.

She exchanges false pleasantries with the overzealous blonde, barely registers a word said. They’re discussing campaign strategies, billboards, yard signs… something like that. Who knows. Jennifer is too busy looking out the door to the desk so perfectly placed in direct view. Well, not exactly direct. She has to arch her back and pretend to be looking away out of boredom, but once she has subtly shifted her chair backwards just enough, her apathetic piece of eyecandy is back in view. She can’t take her eyes off of the woman whose nose is deep into her book. Jennifer finds herself far more interested in finding out the title of the book than she is in Knope’s incessant chattering about candy bars and voting procedures. Once she finds out just what sort of book it is that she likes, Jennifer will buy her an entire library’s worth. It’s not like she’d be taking any away from the avid readers of Pawnee, of which there are none. She’d probably be able to buy out the town’s public library with the money she’s making from the Newport family alone. Maybe she will, if it’ll force that straight line into a smile.

It feels like truly an eternity that Jennifer is sitting in this office, though she doesn’t mind it for the view that she’s given. There does come a time where she actually does need to reciprocate the conversation, to act aghast at the implication that she’s not paying attention, and as painful as it is, she turns her attention away from her new obsession. She continues in witty banter for the rest of their allotted time, outsmarting Leslie’s campaign moves with outrageous ease. Seriously, Jennifer Barkley is good at her job. No wonder she’s paid so much.

When she’s finally allowed escape from this small room that smells so much like the most obnoxious cologne known to man, she takes it. Though she could spend hours wheedling out Leslie’s ideas, spinning them into her own far better planned knock-offs, Jennifer is desperate to leave. She can feel her brain actively slowing down with each second spent in this wretched building. So, with the sweetest possible goodbye she can muster up with those last few remaining cells of energy, she leaves.

But, before she does, she allows herself one more little visit to the desk by the window, to the girl who has reassumed her previously relaxed position, her book now propped open on her lap, her eyes moving far too quickly to actually be reading. Jennifer smiles to herself, appreciates the attempt at disregard for what it is, knows that the blush is threatening the intern’s cheeks again. She can tell that she’s chewing the inside of her cheek, forcing her vision away from Jen, but she doesn’t mind. She’ll get the eye contact she so deeply desires soon enough.

The standing of the two reaches into her purse, the bag that she would never let touch a surface in this building, and produces a business card. She slides it down into the open-faced book on the woman’s lap, laughs softly when it elicits a jump out of her.

“Call me.” She purrs, once she finally has the latter’s attention. She sends another wink her way before finally leaving, feet still fighting un-mopped floor.

And as for April… April watches her leave, jaw hanging open as if she’s just seen a ghost. She feels incredibly dirty for the way that her vision glues to the swinging hips, but the curvature squeezed by pencil skirt begs to be worshipped as it disappears into the hallway.  

__________________________

It doesn’t take many days for Jennifer to grow painfully bored of her hotel room. One can only watch Joan Callamezzo ramble nonsense for so many hours in a day. And though she does not feel like entering into Pawneean society, there must be somewhere where she can get an actual mixed drink instead of another bottle of hotel wine, so she turns to the internet. It comes to no surprise that Pawnee’s nightlife is far from illustrious, and though her only options are clubs of the night and strip varieties, she settles for the former. She doesn’t even want to imagine what beasts will haunt the night scene on a Wednesday night in the middle of nowhere, but she finds out soon enough upon entering the bar whose name she forgets before even reading it.

Jennifer is caught by surprise that the inhabitants she finds aren’t so monstrous, that she can actually stand to look at them. She may find her way to the dance floor eventually, but even still she’d promised herself not to get too messy in her time here. There’s no way she’s embarrassing herself in front of people whose normal is Jennifer’s idea of sloppiness.

She orders whatever stupid gimmick drink is at the top of the list, needing something that will actually ignite her tastebuds no matter the sugar content, and takes a seat at the bar, surveying the room. It’s quite literally the antithesis of a Washington club. Jennifer’s sure the heaviest drug done in this room is tobacco, if these people even have the gall to smoke a cigarette. They’re all so painfully boring, it nearly puts Jennifer to sleep where she sits. Though she’s far from the life of a party, she could stand to loosen her blouse and make out with a girl or two.

Just as she’s slid an unnaturally purple drink, Jennifer locks onto a form at the end of the bar. It would be impossible to ignore, the swooped bangs and striped shirt, jeans that are neither work appropriate nor fit for a club. The hunched posture was what truly gave it away, her aloof attitude would stick her out like a sore thumb in any crowd, at least in Jen’s eyes. She definitely doesn’t want to be picked out of the crowd, probably isn’t seen by anyone other than Jennifer. They’re both here for the same reason, to have a cheap drink and be on their way.

After a few minutes’ worth of staring, Jennifer’s target begins to move. Not toward the exit nor the dance floor, but to the bathroom, where Jennifer eagerly follows suit after throwing back whatever rancid, over-flavored vodka tonic she’d been served. She pushes past the sweaty bodies of dancers that she figured must be from out of town— there’s just no way this many people even exist in the city limits of Pawnee. Jenn huffs and growls at each body that she forces her way past, hating the feeling of dirty hands on such expensive fabric. She holds herself close, rolling her eyes when several people stumble over her feet.

It's with a dramatic sigh that she finally enters the bathroom. Though she doesn’t mean to be, Jennifer will always be keen on the dramatics, on making her emotions well known. Though careerwise it’d be much better for her to keep a sophisticated mysteriousness such as her impervious intern, she finds it much more fun to tell people exactly what she finds annoying about them.

Jennifer primps herself in front of the mirror; makes sure the string of pearls is on straight, lays down her hair so that it stays in its barrel curls. She’s also quite the stickler for appearance, a trait that the rest of Pawnee so seems to lack. While she looks over herself in the glass, a door swings open behind her, and out emerges her raven, who, when her eyes finally lift to find Jennifer standing at the sink, stops in her tracks. It’s an adorable color on her, this shock and awe on a face so fit for lack thereof. Once again that smirk returns to Jennifer, a grin that’s so easily faked yet in this instance could not be more genuine.

“Aren’t you going to wash your hands?” Jennifer asks slyly, firmly patting the sink beside her. The younger complies, Jen watching her through the mirror as she does so. She notes the serious focus that takes the dark features, the control forced over muscles to cease a smile or a reaction of any kind. Jennifer loves it, the resistance, the denial to admit ones feelings. It’s out of her own book. It’s so intoxicating to have a cat to play with instead of yet another mouse.

“You didn’t call me.” Jennifer continues, lower lip protruding into a false pout. “Such a shame. I’ve already gotten so lonely…” She shrugs, pulls lipstick from her purse, begins to apply it liberally. Though the action forces her attention to her own visage, that of the girl beside her is not lost, still in her peripheral.  “At least tell me your name, hm?”

“April.” The shorter replies— though, she may not truly be shorter, it’s only that Jen wears five inch heels where April dons low-top converse. She finally ceases her inattentive hand washing, turns to take a paper towel. When she turns back, however, she is met by a body much closer than it had been, nearly pressing her against the wall. There’s no hiding the rush of blood to her cheeks this time. April must finally face the fact that she is truly, deeply enthralled with this woman. She has been since the first time she’d appeared on the television set spewing that nasty rhetoric about Leslie Knope, her manner of speaking so outwardly charismatic it charmed April right away.

There’s something to be said about charisma and lack thereof attracting each other.

April stutters for a moment, something she’s quite literally never done, brain seeking for something to say along the lines of you’re a dick to my boss, I hate you, but the words never come. Mostly because she doesn’t want to say them. As much as she loves Leslie, how much she wants them to win and for the woman in front of her to stop badgering their campaign on live tv, she is also wholly infatuated with the pantsuits and wicked words.

Jennifer chews her lower lip, which is still curled up into that shit-eating grin, enjoying the mess she’s turned April into far too much. She’d not dare interrupt her babbling nor her bated breathing with words of her own. The ball has now been swung into April’s court, and as greedy  as she feels to lay a kiss on those trembling lips, Jennifer wants to wait to see what her opponent swing back.

Though, instead of witty banter or biting criticism, Jennifer is met with hands on her jaw, lips on her own. She accepts it hungrily, not at all needing even a second to realize what’s happened nor to adjust to the touch. It feels all too natural, and it’s instinct that leads her hands down to slide into the back pockets of April’s jeans, her thumbs into the belt loops. What wretched material, denim. She’d hate the rough feeling on her palms were it not for the soft flesh it covered.

They’re both starving for this, tongues dancing for dominance in the other’s mouth, dark red lipstick smudged against skin that hasn’t seen this amount of makeup in quite a while. Jennifer pushes her weight into April with such fervor that she’s forced up onto the sink, the former settling between the latter’s thighs, kissing her until her back hits the cold mirror.

They each elicit soft groans out of the other, that smug smirk ever present on Jennifer’s lips when April gets too loud. Jen’s lips stray downward, down to the strong jaw, trailing her scarlet down onto the clean flesh. Her hands sneak below the woven fabric of April’s sweater, the soft skin rippling in reaction, so cold against Jen’s warm hands that is almost shocks her. Not at all in a bad way, though. It only offers more surface area in need of her kisses, desperate to be warmed by Jen’s coaxing touch.

It's that very thought that forces Jennifer backwards. She stands upright, looks at the mess of her own creation, frowns a genuine frown when April whines from the sudden lack of touch.

“Oh, baby.” Jennifer sighs, pouts more, licks her thumb and lifts it to April’s mouth, which instinctively opens to accept it, yet the thumb swerves to wipe some of the lipstick from her chin. “I’m sorry. But you know I can’t in good conscience fuck the competition. As much as I want to.” Then, she smiles, watching intently how April reacts to this news. The way her brows furrow, her hand lifts and slightly punches the sink below her in anger.

No, Jennifer certainly does not imply to stand by this rule. They’ll find themselves in this club bathroom again quite soon. But she can’t very well allow April her checkmate this early into the game. So she turns on her heels, grabs her purse, leaves with a third (certainly not final) wink over the shoulder.

“I’ll see ya!” She calls, and disappears behind swinging doors. 

[bellaxgiornata]

Borrowed Time |1: Savior|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Nurse!Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; heavy angst, hopeful but no happy ending, canon-typical violence, death

Summary: While walking home after your night shift at Metro-General Hospital, you meet the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen by chance when he saves you. Your brush with death leaves you contemplating the concept of fate and predetermined events, but Matt insists God wanted him to save you that night. Though you can't help but wonder if you really were just living on borrowed time...

a/n: So this mini series is what happens when I'm asked if I can write angst that doesn't have a happy ending (which I am admittedly struggling to stick to myself). The idea has been rolling around in my head for a couple of months and I'm now finally throwing it out there. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @1988-fiend @danzer8705

Resting your aching body against the wall, you stayed clear of the doors leading into Metro-General Hospital's emergency waiting area. The room was at its usual capacity for this time of night, most of the plastic chairs already filled with people who looked miserable for one reason or another. Over at the check-in counter you could hear the agitated voice of someone arguing with one of your coworkers, though you were far too tired to focus on what was being said.

From your place inside the hospital, you could already hear the approaching wail of another ambulance's siren, no doubt on its way to deliver someone else to the emergency room from yet another incident this evening. But at least for tonight, you were done worrying about what else was happening in Hell’s Kitchen.

Eyes heavy from the long and understaffed shift you'd just finished, your fingers sluggishly placed a single ear bud into your left ear–the same thing you did every night before you walked back to your apartment building. The unforgiving fluorescent lights above only continued to grow the pounding headache you'd had for over an hour now as your fingers put the small device in place, your other hand already searching inside of your bag for your phone. 

Despite working second shift and finishing up late at night, you always walked home from the hospital. Your apartment was only two blocks away, so paying for transportation seemed like a waste of your hard earned money, and waiting outside for a bus near midnight seemed like an unnecessary danger and a waste of time. 

Truthfully you hated the walk home at the end of every shift. The streets of Hell’s Kitchen were dangerous, there was no doubt about that. Working as an ER nurse certainly gave you enough insight into what things happened in the city once the sun went down. The pepper spray you carried on your keychain was only a mild comfort during your walks, because usually you were still always on edge. So generally, every night on your walk home, you preferred to pop a single ear bud into your ear and listen to some upbeat pop music in an attempt to distract yourself from your own rising levels of fear. You could still hear your surroundings, but listening to cheerful music certainly helped ease your anxiety, making every passing figure appear less like they were about to stab you and run off with your bag.

Pushing off the wall with a tired sigh, you made your way towards the exit. You searched your phone for your usual playlist as you approached the door, pushing it open with your shoulder as you focused on your phone screen. Stepping out onto the sidewalk and into the somewhat humid summer night, you were already hit with that usual sense of unease. The ambulance you’d been hearing finally came into view farther down the street just as you pressed play on your phone. The sound of a familiar song started in your ear, helping to drown out the shrill sound of the sirens.

Turning in the direction of your apartment building, you began your walk back home. As you went, you slipped a hand into your bag, feeling around the bottom of it for a minute. Eventually your fingers landed on your keyring and you pulled it out. Hand curling around the can of pepper spray attached to it, you clutched it close to the front of you, ready to use it if necessary.

Your sore, tired feet protested each step you took along the pavement as you made your way back home. The shoes you always wore to work were in serious need of replacement, the soles of them no longer padded and comfortable anymore, worn down from constant use shift after shift. There was already a blister forming on your little toe from today and you knew it was going to make your shift tomorrow incredibly uncomfortable.

A few minutes into your walk you eventually approached the corner of the block where you needed to turn. You spotted a man appearing around it, headed straight towards you. He was dressed in a dark sweatshirt with his hood pulled up over his head, something that seemed out of place in the heat of the summer night. The man's upturned hood also made it impossible to see his face and whether or not he was paying any attention to you in return. It didn't help that his hands were stuffed into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, making it difficult to tell if something else was stuffed inside of it or not. 

Fear shot through you the closer he neared, his face still obscured. Your fingers curled further around the pepper spray in your hand and you wondered if you'd need to use it. When he came within a few feet of you a moment later, you forced your eyes to stay focused ahead of you, though in your peripheral you kept an eye on him. You held your breath when you finally passed him, continuing to hold it a few seconds longer until you'd made your way around the corner. Glancing back over your shoulder, you were grateful to see the man hadn't turned back around to follow after you. Releasing the breath you'd still been holding, the tension eased from your body just a little. At least whatever he might've been up to tonight, he wasn't interested in you.

Attention returning ahead of yourself, you continued down the street all the way to the crosswalk at the opposite end. Fortunately the light was in your favor and you didn't have to wait on the sidewalk when you reached it, but just as you stepped out into the street to cross it, your can of pepper spray slipped out of your sweat-dampened hands and clattered down onto the street. With a groan you hurried forward into the road after it, wincing as your feet ached at your hurried steps. You'd barely managed to bend down and pluck the keyring from off the pavement before you noticed a bright light out of the corner of your eye. Turning your gaze towards it while still bent in half, it took your brain a few seconds to process that the bright light was a car's headlights–a car that was barreling straight towards you far too fast for the red light it was approaching.

Panic hit you fast and hard, the upbeat song playing in your ear seeming like it had abruptly faded into the background as adrenaline shot through your veins. Feeling as if time had suddenly slowed down, you began to stand upright, prepared to run out of the way of the oncoming car headed straight for you. Though by the time you'd righted yourself, you knew you'd never be able to move entirely out of the way in time. The car was far too close and moving incredibly fast.

You swallowed hard, bracing yourself for the inevitable impact as you attempted to lunge forward in what seemed a useless attempt to dart out of the car’s way. Heart slamming heavily into your ribcage, you found yourself yanked surprisingly and quite sharply backwards. A shriek flew out of your mouth as you stumbled back unexpectedly. In the street before you, the red car zoomed past where you'd been standing just a fraction of a second ago, a harsh wind brushing past you with it.

Breathing hard, you stood there frozen and wide-eyed staring at the space you'd just been standing in moments ago. That car had almost hit you. With how fast it was going, it'd have most likely killed you on impact. Yet somehow here you were still alive and breathing, feeling the buzz of adrenaline in your veins as your heart jack-hammered away in your chest.

It was a few seconds before you registered a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and something solid pressed to the back of you. Glancing down, you saw all black. Black gloves and black long sleeves covering thick forearms. Confused, your head darted up and over your shoulder only to come face to face with a black mask and a deep frown mere inches away from you. Your eyes widened even further the second you registered who it was that had clearly just saved your life. 

The masked man's face shifted down towards your own, his head tilting to the side. His lips twitched at the corners for a moment before he spoke. 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

His voice was lower than you expected it to be, the sound of it causing the hair on the back of your neck to prickle. His arms were still around your waist and it took you a moment to realize it was because he was practically holding you up. Your legs felt weak and useless beneath you as you slowly became aware of them once more.

“I–yeah,” you breathed out. 

Gradually the sensation in your legs came back to you and you carefully tried to shift your weight forward back onto your feet. The masked man loosened his hold around you, though he still kept his hands lightly resting on your waist as if he was ready to catch you if you fell. 

“Should be more careful,” he told you. “And you shouldn't be walking around alone this late at night in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Blinking hard a few times, you ran a hand across your forehead. Your mind was still reeling at almost having been hit by a car and miraculously being saved at the last second, yet here your savior was chastising you. 

“It's not exactly like I make a fortune at Metro-General,” you muttered, voice coming out with less bite than you'd intended. “Can't exactly afford transportation and I can't exactly control being placed on second shift.”

The man's head tilted curiously to the side again, almost as if he was analyzing you. Meanwhile you took the moment to try to calm your still racing heart as you took a shaky step back up onto the sidewalk, his hands leaving your waist as you moved.

“You're a…?”

“Nurse, yes,” you answered stiffly. “Believe me, I don't choose to walk around this late at night for the thrill of it. And it seems counterintuitive to walk a block in the opposite direction of my apartment building just to wait for a bus at a poorly lit bus stop for the length of time it would take me to walk home instead.”

The masked man's lips curled into something like an amused grin as he stepped up onto the sidewalk beside you. Your eyes narrowed back at him suspiciously, one hand resting on your chest over your still rapidly pounding heart.

“For someone clutching a can of pepper spray in a death grip, you sure have a lot of fire,” he mused. “Generally people are more grateful when I save their life.”

“Yeah, well, generally when I'm helping to save someone's life, I'm significantly less rude about it,” you retorted. 

His grin shifted into a full-on smile, one that was oddly disarming considering he'd just been scolding you. Feeling a little awkward for snapping at him, especially because he had just pulled you out of the way of certain death, you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“But thank you,” you continued. “You uh, you saved me. That car certainly would have hit me if you hadn't pulled me out of the way. I just…wasn't expecting the lecture that came with the rescue.”

He laughed lightly, nodding his head. Once more you eyed him suspiciously, not having expected his sudden shift in demeanor to something more friendly so quickly.

“Usually the people I'm rescuing aren't already walking around in a state of panic,” he said, gesturing a gloved hand towards your pepper spray. “Figured maybe you didn't fully understand the dangers of this city after dark. Besides the cars, I mean.”

“Believe me,” you assured him, “I'm well aware of the dangers. Working in the ER has shown me far more of this part of the city than I care to see sometimes.”

“Then how about I walk you back to your building?” he asked. “Just to make sure you get home safe?”

Your hands fidgeted with your keyring, nervously toying with a key as you contemplated his offer. Was it safe enough to trust him? Especially to lead him back to your building where you lived? 

Of course you'd read about the masked man in the paper a few times by now–The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen they'd taken to calling him lately. You'd also seen a few of his victims firsthand enter your hospital in quite poor shape on more than one occasion. But he always seemed to help those in need, never brutally beating an innocent person. And never killing anyone, either. 

Plus, he had just saved your life.

As he shifted on the sidewalk during your contemplative silence, the streetlight above caught his dark pants at a different angle. Your eyes dropped down, noticing the cut along the outside of his thigh. There was a slash a few inches deep down the side of his leg that had torn through his pants. You winced at the sight, raising a hand and pointing a finger at the injury.

“Maybe I should walk you back to the hospital,” you offered. “That gash looks like it could use stitches.”

The vigilante shook his head, waving a gloved hand at you. You immediately frowned at the gesture as you glanced back up at his masked face. 

“Nah,” he replied. “I don't do hospitals. I'll just clean it and stitch it myself later. I’ll be fine.”

Your mouth fell open instantly as you stared at him in utter disbelief. Was he serious?

“So what, you're just going to continue walking around like that the rest of the night?” you asked him. “Aggravating the injury and risking infection?”

“I'll be fine,” he repeated. “Now, would you like me to escort you back home, or would you prefer to continue clutching that little can of pepper spray for protection instead?”

Standing there for a moment, you stared at him in bewilderment. Who the hell was this guy? Avoiding medical attention and pulling strangers out of the way of speeding cars just in the nick of time? How had he even been close enough to stop that car from hitting you? And then here he was having the audacity to joke with you after the fact?

Eventually your eyes dropped back down to the gash in his leg, bright red blood glistening along his dark pants in the streetlight. Maybe it was the nurse in you or maybe it was because he had just saved your life, but you found yourself speaking before you could think through what you were saying. 

“You can walk me back to my place and let me tend to that gash,” you told him. “Because you'd be an absolute idiot to keep walking around with an open, bleeding wound.”

The Devil smiled wide beneath his black mask at your response. You couldn't deny that he had a nice smile, whoever the hell he was.

“Bossy,” he teased. “That was certainly unexpected. I suppose that'll just make for an interesting walk to your place then.”

You rolled your eyes at him before gesturing him to follow after you with a hand. “Come on, Spirit Halloween,” you ordered. “My place is just a block further this way. And you better not pass out from blood loss on the way,” you warned him, beginning to cross the street and continuing to make your way back towards your building. “Because I can guarantee I am too damn tired to carry your ass anywhere.”

Behind you, the Devil rumbled out a laugh. Biting your lip, you tried to fight back a smile at the pleasant sound. He certainly didn't seem like much of a threat to you at least.

“Spirit Halloween?” he asked, amused.

“Yeah,” you replied off-handedly as you double-checked for speeding cars while you made your way across the street. “Because you look like a knock-off version of a child’s Halloween ninja costume dressed like that.”

Slipping your pepper spray back into your bag, you heard the masked man let out another surprised, warm laugh. The smile slipped onto your face at the sound this time and you were glad he couldn’t see it. Though you knew if it wasn’t for this curious stranger now following you home, you'd surely have been dead minutes ago. It was almost as if you'd been given a second chance because of him, and you figured the least you could do now was repay his kindness with some of your own.

[riaki]

— last train at 25 o' clock | suguru geto x reader fluff(???)/light angst @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat please take this bc coffee shop geto is gonna take a bit

it's 1am in the morning, the train platform's a ghost town, and the hum of the vending machine is all the noise in the world as you and suguru wait for the last ride home after a mission.

wc : 2.6k cw : brief mentions of blood ; references to hidden inventory arc , shoko typical smoking , probably some other stuff i'm forgettin not proofread!!!! also he may be ooc srry

i cooked this up last minute cus i remembered my promise of posting every weekend last week so my bad if u can tell its rushed lol post hidden inventory pre defection

suguru remembers it like it was yesterday.

the song of summer insects reaches your ear as you clamber up to the train station platform; a pandemonium of cicadas and crickets that sing odes to the full moon in the sky partially curtained by dark clouds and the dew on the grass that's begun to form.

"damn, it's hot." you muttered, wiping your forehead as your arm shot out to grab the dirty railing, white paint cracked and peeled as a splinter pricks your fingers and you flinch. suguru follows after you; a small hum is your acknowledgment.

"careful. shoko doesn't like dealing with splinters," he says from behind you, stepping up the stairs two at a time to straighten up on the train platform, hands in his pockets. “i don’t have reversed curse technique healing either.” there's the smell of a storm in the air, and the lights overhead buzz and flicker with the intermittent beat of a moth's wings. you just give a dip of your head in acknowledgement as you pry your hand away from the railing, the scent of old wood lingering on your hand as you wipe off the dust clinging to your palm on your pants.

(geez, you two have no sense for these types of things.)

suguru holds a hand out, and you take it eagerly to let him pull you up the last step, before politely letting go and slipping it back into his pocket once more. you let out an exhausted sigh and stand up, rubbing your tired eyes as you look around.

the platform is deserted save for the stray cat beneath the station bench, sniffing at a clump of weeds growing from the metal leg. there's a vending machine up against the wall to the elevator, an obnoxious painted 'out of order' sign on the lift's muddy glass doors, stained with dust, dirt, and fingerprints. there's some... creative graffiti on the wall, and a starch yellow section of caution tape flutters in the humid evening wind.

the cat scratches at the concrete floor, and its matted white fur and crystal blue eyes remind you of someone. you glance up at suguru, poking his arm to get his attention.

"look. it's satoru." you huffed, still a little loose for breath as you reach out and grab his shoulder, leaning against him for support. the dark-haired boy just laughs a little, taking his phone out to snap a picture and no doubt send it to the white-haired brat. "i see it." he leans a little closer to you; it's subtle, and you don't notice it, but the way his shoulders sag just so you have an easier time holding on speaks volumes. "don't send it to him! he's probably asleep right now. think it's past his evening sugar high?" you asked, glancing up at him with a tilt of your head.

"most likely. i think he got sent on another solo mission today." there's a tiny bitter bite to suguru's voice that underlines its usual velvetiness; like an ocean current beneath the waves that you only find once you've been dragged underwater. you don't say anything about it, though. the sleeves of his uniform crumple beneath your fingers when they curl into the fabric, a shiver running down your spine as goosebumps spring up on your skin like shroom caps after the summer rain.

suguru is observant.

"you cold? you can have my jacket." it's immediate, and his voice is as smooth as cream silk and marble as he shrugs your hand off (much to your dismay-- shown with a bite to your cheek) to unbutton his uniform jacket, slipping it off his shoulders and offering it to you. when you stand there, feeling a little daze and a lot tired, he just smiles, shoving it in your face with a low chuckle that sounds like honey pouring from a jar.

"you sure? you can hug a cursed spirit if you get cold, 'cus you're not getting it back." you sighed after a moment, reluctantly taking his jacket and tugging it over your shoulders. it's warm, and it smells like his cologne- like some natural incense that soothes your nerves and loosens your body to the marrow in your weary bones. you bury your nose in it and forget to think about the warm hue on your cheeks that you'll later chalk up to the humid air.

"i'm sure." the cat by the bench perks up, staring directly in your direction. it yawns, before bounding away, disappearing behind the vending machine with a flick of its cloud white tail. the machine is missing a few rows of drinks, but the green of a melon soda can that's far too saturated to have a name to the original fruit and the cream and red of a yakult bottle are enough to catch your eyes beneath the harsh light of the display.

"still don't understand how you get cold on a night like this, though." he makes a gesture towards 'this' with one hand, fingers flexing in a way that makes your heart flutter unreasonably.

a moment of silence passes; you can see the distant lights of some prefecture over the hill, and your mind briefly wanders to rainy afternoons, puddles reflecting the red neon of passing cars and distorted faces under plastic umbrellas sandwiched between painted concrete and a dark sky.

"you want a drink? on me, as thanks." you say, breaking the sound of silence and nodding towards the vending machine as you look up at suguru. it takes him a moment to respond, so you use the opportunity to admire his profile; the slope of his nose, the deep hazel of his eyes that shine a copper rust beneath the pale yellow light overhead. his hair is a little messy; it's falling out of its slicked back bun, a product of your earlier fight. there's a scrape on your ankle from tripping through the bush in an attempt to put distance between the curse when you had been engaged earlier; it still stings. there's a tightness to his jaw, you notice- and some part of you wishes you could take it for yourself.

the section of dark hair in front of his face sways as he turns to look down at you, gaze charting the corners of your face (your cheeks look soft, he notes) before he opens his mouth to speak.

one kick to the machine, a disappointed frown when nothing comes out, and two yen bills later, the pop of can tabs fills your ears as condensation seeps into your skin, a pleasant relief from the heaviness of the summer air. it's too much when the cold side of a drink is pressed to your cheek, though-- and you let out a yelp of protest, shooting a quick glare up at suguru, who just laughs it off and takes a sip of his drink.

you down a sip of your own; it's a sweet fruit tea that's your go to whenever it's hot out. sweet, citrusy, like starfruit. it tastes like a summer of youth and a warm blue spring. it's pleasant.

a distant rumble echoes from the dark horizon, and both of your gazes simultaneously snap towards it-- at last, you think. the last train is here. you adjust suguru's jacket around your shoulders, catching a whiff of something that smells like rosemary and new leather as his voice fills your ears.

it's an easy night when you pass the threshold and step into the train car, speckled white floors and blue hard seats greeting you. somewhere, there's a ticket stuffed into one of your pockets; a memento of late evenings that blend into early mornings when there's a bruise on your face and a knick on suguru's wrist that soothe themselves with the harmony of small talk and sensation of fizzling bubbles in cold metal cans as the train jostles you along. you're sitting, and he's standing, one arm on the hangers overhead as you talk about everything and nothing. he catches himself every now and then, watching with minimal interest as the sliding doors part themselves like gateways to the afterlife for ghost passengers. it's not your stop yet; far from it.

"say, suguru-- do you miss going on missions with satoru?" you asked after a moment, fingers drumming against your knees as the automated voice overhead announces the next stop, empty farm plots and tangles of wire passing by as the lights inside cozy houses dim and go off.

he doesn't answer that, so you just look out the window.

(suguru, you gettin' enough sleep? heatstroke?)

"how's the cut on your leg?" he finally murmurs after a moment, his eyelids heavy before he tears his gaze away from a tacky advertising on the wall and back to your scrunched nose.

"annoying." you just sighed, and you watched as he gave a small smile; his eyes fluttering shut, long lashes resting against his cheeks. you wondered if the wings of a butterfly would be heavy enough to weigh them down.

he moves after a second, sitting down one seat away from you in a swift motion and beckoning for you to lift your leg. you comply, not entirely sure where it's going- until he gently rolls the hem of your pant leg up, pressing the cold edge of his half-empty soda to the angry red scratch, and you wince a little before letting out one, long sigh. you melt into the chair, feeling like a senior citizen with a hunched back and one too many shrine visits under a bleached kyoto sun.

"thanks." you mumbled, leaning your head against the window as the train jostles ever so slightly to its own tracked rhythm.

he just hums in response, pulling a worn bandaid out of his pocket; the plastic top has pen smudges on it and the white wax gets caught between his pearly teeth as he tugs it off, taking time to make sure he positions the healing strip properly before flattening it down on your leg.

"shoko makes no sense when she talks about her reversed curse technique, so this'll do." he says quietly, and you let yourself fall into the pool of molasses that comes from his throat as you close your eyes, feeling the dull sensation of pain drain from your muscles and melt away like the first waves of spring and the ripple of lake water as a lone sakura petal disturbs the mirrored blue surface.

"i could learn it." you said after a moment, pressing your lips together in an attempt to snuff out the feeling of his fingers lingering on your skin, toying with the loose edge of the bandaid. he just snorts, and you crack one eye open to glare at him.

the rest of the train ride is spent in silence; you slip in and out of a hazy sleep, and you're faintly aware of the timeline-- somehow, your drink ends up on his lips. your head ends up on his shoulder, and your ears pick up his quickened heartbeat. his warmth is nothing like the humidity that clings to your skin like a layer of smoke and vapor, accompanied by sticky dango and raucous laughter weaving between the sounds of fireworks and the crunch of dirt beneath pairs of geta. he smells like home and his soft hair tickles your face as your little breaths squeeze past your parted lips, a warmth like bumping shoulders and linking fingers seeping into your body like the steady stream of fine sand in an hourglass. a warmth like empty classrooms lit by golden hour; windows cracked open to let in a fresh breeze as the faint smell of cigarette smoke drifts up to the room from the brunette and her lighter beneath the patch of shade from a tree in the courtyard below.

(need a light?)

this is how it's been for the past month. tired mumbles and hushed murmurs exchanged between two people who are more than friends but less than lovers after each harrowing mission; shared drinks and linked pinkies, the warmth that stains cheeks rosy when fingers that look small against calloused ones brush with another hand reaching for the metal pole on the train. heavy silence as you fall asleep on his shoulder; faint tingles when his fingers graze your knuckles as he stares at the dark reflection in the windows across. even the windows know how to make him relax.

one day, it'll be just him. a white bird stained black by apollo's hand in a sea of dirty geese, silent as the others hawk and squawk for a place on the lake. one hand hooked around the hard plastic of a hanger, supporting heavy shoulders with weight that could rival atlas' burden. a boy so tired of being beaten by the waves that he succumbs to the undercurrent with the same practice as before, only the paint on the railings has chipped past repair and not even the greenery of the countryside can touch the stains on the windows to his soul; eyes that used to shine with mirth and crinkle with gentle smiles become sunken and heavy with experience more suited to those a decade older.

he'd already chosen his path when he offered his jacket to you; when he laughed at the way you'd sneezed after investigating the patch of weed that had captured the stray cat's attention from before. and he knew that you'd noticed, and he knew that you'd try, and he knew that he wouldn't let you.

he knew when he woke you up with a gentle nudge to the forehead, suppressing the fluttering feeling in the heart he didn't know he still had when you made a grumpy tired face and stood up with much effort and a stumble or two.

(damn monkeys.)

it was easy nights like these that he'd eventually miss the most. walking you back to your dorm, past the candy wrappers and empty cola cans in the halls stained with imaginary blood and passing glances. departing with a kiss goodbye when he knew you were too drowsy and delirious to be able to remember it come morning.

the swing of a jazz rhythm would get stuck in his throat when you stumbled, only catching yourself from the jolt of the train's stop by latching a hand onto his wrist like some evil little lamprey and muttering a small 'sorry'. he'd laugh it off, collect the empty bottles of drinks of debt, and tug on the sleeve of his jacket on your arms, gently helping you off the platform as your pant leg slid back down to cover the bandaid on your leg, rough fabric scratching away the ghost of his touch on your skin. he wished it would just stay for a little longer.

and when the morning came and you woke up in your bed with his scent on the fabric of your shirt, you'd do it all over again. the only part of the terrible cycle he ever took pleasure in. even when the vile taste of a cursed spirit sunk into his stomach, it would be washed away with the right pop and fizzle of sugary drink followed by an even sweeter kiss to the knot between his tired eyes.

there was nothing about your time together he wouldn't ever miss.

you'd be his past, his present, and his afterlife. even when it was his turn to get off the ghost train and step past those sliding doors that held new meaning, you were the last thought on his mind.

one day, he hopes to see you again, when the last train comes in the night so late it could be considered early morning and the platform can relive old memories of peeling paint on a past summer spring once more.

hope u guys enjoyed the catoru cameo my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting a material thing rather than an experience for my college graduation gift, and being upset I still don't have it?

I skimmed through some other AITA posts to prepare me to write this one properly, and saw someone use the term "validation bait." I bring that up because I fear this post may read like that once all is said and done, but I genuinely am worried my perspective might be skewed. I encourage you to enter "Reddit Mode" if you decide to reply after your judgement with additional context and feel the need to be blunt.

Background context: I have an older sibling who graduated before me during the beginning of COVID. While his gift was delayed as a result, we as a family (three children one father) ended up going to Disney World, NASA, and Universal Orlando in 2021 to celebrate his accomplishment. It was a great trip, aside from the horrific humidity and the hurricane that just barely missed us. Later on, I asked my sibling if that was what he actually wanted to do, and he said our father proposed some ideas because he didn't really have any and Florida sounded like a good idea to him. My asking this will make sense later, but putting it here seems the most logical.

Additionally, it may be important to know that my father goes on a lot of trips. At least, more than anyone I've personally known. I'm not gonna try to calculate the exact number, but I will say in the span of less than a year (after the family Florida trip), he went to both Canada and Mexico for a week each, on top of additional excursions to Florida and Vegas-- almost all also including bringing his girlfriend. At the same time, he claimed assistance with college tuition was out of his budget, started having me pay rent on a part time job, and told my younger sibling fixing the AC in their car would cost too much as well. Even I know something doesn't add up here, but maybe I'm taking it too personally. End background context.

Fast forward to spring of 2023, and it's my turn to graduate college. Here's the thing: my brother was asked at least a year in advance to his graduation what he would like to do. I wasn't asked; I had to bring it up myself, and I waited until my graduation was only two months out. It was also over a phone call, because my father was out of town for at least the fifth time that year already. I dropped the hint that, for my graduation present, I would really like to get a nice gaming desktop. My father's response was, "... We'll see." Later on, he elaborated through text stating, "I took everybody to florida because i think graduations should be more about memories than what material thing you can get out of your dad."

Here's the thing: it's no secret to my dad that I'm a gamer, and I like video games. Additionally, it's no secret that a gaming desktop is something I have wanted for a decade. Even since middle school I've talked about gaming desktops and how much I wanted one. Even so, I happily played games like Saints Row III on a laptop that chugged along at 12 frames per second and took every crash in stride. I also thought that this kind of gift would be a relief to my dad, as my thought process was it would be far less expensive than taking an entire family somewhere out of the state for a week. Not only that, but there wasn't really anywhere I wanted to go. I don't have the desire to travel like he does; I don't mind taking my time off at home or locally, and relaxing with the things I have rather than spending a ton on a fancy dinner or hotel or concert.

So, naturally, I was confused, dismayed, and heartbroken. While I started crafting a text response explaining why a gaming desktop would not just be for personal use, but would also be advantageous for my career (my degree was in animation and I learned surface level coding for making video games), I also wondered why it was wrong for me to want a "material thing" even if it wasn't something necessarily "useful." Because while, yes, a gaming desktop would have the power I needed for more intensive animation projects, that wasn't really why I wanted one. But I figured explaining as such would help convince my dad why it was a good idea.

My dad ended up calling me before I could finish crafting my text, so I did my best to explain my standpoint, as well as pointing out how the specs for a gaming desktop are pretty much parallel with the specs for a desktop for things like 3D rendering and animation. He stood his ground on "making memories" as well, and also hinted that I was acting entitled for asking about my graduation present. I think I pointed out to him how he asked my older brother far in advance what he wanted for his graduation, but those details of the conversation are a little faded with time. I did end up sending my text after that phone call anyway, as I felt it better explained what I was thinking and feeling than I could say in verbal conversation (I've always gotten a little flustered talking to my dad about things I want that he doesn't approve of).

Fortunately, after reading my text, my father seemed to come around, and invited me to put together a list of parts for my computer, since I wanted to build it. I got really excited and got the help of my computer-savvy friend to put together something I thought was reasonable-- it had a really good graphics card and processor, and I made compromises on some of the other parts to lower the cost. I haven't looked at the list in a while, but the total cost-- tower, two mid-range monitors, basic keyboard and mouse-- was something like 2.5k approaching 3k. Mid range (at least, it is these days) I think, but it would be enough for the things I wanted to do.

I put the list together, and emailed it to my dad. The assumption I had, was he would purchase the parts, and then we would build it together (or I would build it alone). However, later on I went to ask him if he had gotten my email, and while he said yes, he also said, "I'm not paying for the whole thing. I can't afford it, and it's not fair to spend more on you as an individual than what I spent on your brother as an individual for the Florida trip."

I find the latter point somewhat fair considering I'm the only person who benefits from this gift, but the first point, given the background context on my father's habits, I'm not sure how much I believe. But arguing with him would have been pointless. I definitely would have liked to have had that information beforehand, but it ultimately didn't change much.

This is getting long, so I'll try to summarize the rest. This was just the first instance of my father changing the goal posts for my graduation gift. First, he tried to convince me that getting a prebuilt tower would be just as good. I did the research, and a tower with the graphics card I wanted would have cost as much as building my own tower and buying a monitor, keyboard, and mouse, and still not have been as good in other specs anyways. Then, he tried to tell me he was only going to give me $1000 towards the computer. I pointed out paying for my older sibling for the Florida trip would have cost at least $1500-- if I hadn't done the research, I wouldn't have known any better and just blindly agreed. Then, two days after my graduation, he stated that he wasn't going to give me the money for the computer until I had secured a full time job.

At that point, I just gave up, and agreed.

Fast forward to now. I'm still working the part time job, I barely make enough to put a couple dollars into savings, no one is hiring me full time, and my dad hinted that, instead of doing presents for Christmas this year, we all agree to go on vacation somewhere. Not only that, but his family in Canada just told him they're going to Mexico in November. Not only is my dad implying we should go too and I should pay a portion of my own way, I have a further feeling he may say that this will be our Christmas as well. I still don't have the computer, even though my dad has noticed how much I'm struggling.

If I had the computer, I wouldn't have minded the vacation-- but I feel like my wants and feelings have been completely pushed aside in favor of what my dad thinks is good and/or right, and the wind has been taken out of my sails regarding my graduation entirely. On the other hand, maybe he's right that I focus too much on a material thing and should redirect my attention to an experience and go somewhere to relax/get away from daily life.

Am I a materialistic asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[violentkisses999]

preys and predators

summary: the story of preys and predators unfolds as you exchange numbers with wanda maximoff: a predator of nature your wedding planner.

pairing: fem!reader x wanda maximoff

cw: death of animal, light depiction of blood, (i'm an asshole when it comes to poetic metaphors, pls stick w me)

there was once a swampy bayou. humid breezes raked over soggy lumps of leaves. it was midday when a white swan gracefully flapped near the edges of peaceful waters. its webbed feet squelched into clay like mud as it ventured closer.

the bird's long neck bucked as it peered its head around: checking if the coast was clear. all that could be heard were screaming heaps of cicadas and the occasional yelp of a cricket. once the swan decided that it was safe to do so, it dipped its bumpy beak into the murky water.

the resting waters of the bayou rippled as the waterfowl sipped. its tired eyelids drooped as it drank. it hadn't seen the bubbles of air that emerged from the water.

as the bird's body grew heavier with relaxation, it was submerged further into the thick mud. so far to the point where it could feel its stomach rest against the soft land. unbeknownst to the pure creature, the ripples in the body of water redirected. instead of moving away from the bird's beak, they were flowing right towards it.

once the greedy swan had finally quenched its thirst, it lifted its dripping beak. its eyelids never opened as it ruffled its feathers. its body was graced with a warm gust of wind.

its eyelids fluttered as they peeled apart. though instead of the peaceful swamps it expected to see, the bird's eye view was met with gaping jaws ready to feast. the snout of the slick predator dripped as it lurked further open.

before the swan could retrieve its feet from the mud-

chomp

drops of blood flew to paint the sharp blades of grass. like water colors, the brownish water blended with the crimson substance.

the scene was terrifying, but so is nature. the tailed beast drew back into the murky swamp. the cicadas still screamed, and the crickets still yelped.

after so long, another greedy creature would naively sip from the forbidden bayou. that sneaky gator will be there too. patiently watching its prey fatten before striking. just another day in the wild.

the circle of l- "hey?" wanda repeated, "you okay?"

suddenly, the sounds of civilians chattering, and cars honking infiltrated your senses. busy gusts of wind fanned her fragrance right towards you. miniature bumps rose on your skin.

the tender rasp of her voice had your hands fumbling with your phone. your voice shook, "yeah- no, i'm all good, " you explained pathetically.

a moment of silence passed. though subtle, you managed to notice it. her green eyes sharply peered into yours. the space between her auburn brows creased as her head tilted in the slightest.

before you could further reassure her that you were present, her hands firmly clapped together. her matte lips pursing in disregard.

chomp

"anyways, now that you have my number, we can discuss cake tasting plans over the phone." her stating of the obvious was met with your dumb nodding. you'd be lying if you said that you'd been listening.

"text me later?" her eyebrows raised as she slightly raised her shoulders: physically begging for words. you cheeks warmed as if you had only just noticed your limited responses.

"absolutely!" you blurted out before your lips could stop. your eyelids squeezed shut, and your cheeks heated. your grip on your phone only slipped as sweat drew from your palms. "i mean, yes. i will text you, and i will give mark your number as well."

wanda's shoulders seemed to relax at the mention of your fiance. you wouldn't have noticed, you were too busy staring down other random pedestrians. anything to make this interaction feel more casual.

"well, you do that." with that, she zipped up her coat and drew back into the busy crowd.

and just like that, the chattering civilians and honking cars became real noise again. the autumn breeze still graced your skin. no more goosebumps. huh... weird..

anywho, you should really call mark. planning you guy's wedding has been driving you crazy.

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