#I’m having like the best hair day I’ve had in forever

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚎𝚜 & 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎 - 𝙿𝚝. 2

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】 ⦂ Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＧＥＮＲＥ】 ⦂ Fluff, romance, & slight!tragedy

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】 ⦂ None

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】 ⦂ “Forrest Gump” by Frank Ocean

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

♫♪ This is love, I know it’s true… ♫♪

Mornings had always been hard for you.  Most days you struggled to even open your eyes, let alone get out of bed.  As a young teenager you mother had told you this was a sign of depression.  You of course, being a teenager, brushed off her concern.  It took several years for you to come to the same conclusion on your own.

Mornings with Mark were different.

The sun seemed softer, warmer, dripping through the blinds like honey.  The songbirds were a melodious symphony that gave you a sense of peace.  Your mind was blank as you slowly blinked into consciousness.  Mark’s sleeping form was the first thing you clearly saw as your vision came to focus.  He was laid on his side turned towards you, lips slightly parted, and his face completely relaxed.  He was beautiful, and you were in love.  Unable to help yourself, and perhaps even unaware of your own actions, your fingers reached out to trace slowly over his shirtless chest.  They moved gingerly over the plains of his abdomen, dipping into the valley between his pecks, and skirting along his defined collarbones.  In synch with your fingers finding his jaw, you leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips.

Mark’s arms snaked around you in response, pulling you into a languid yet strong embrace.  His mouth moved against yours, melting you into a puddle on his bed.  “I hope I didn’t wake you up,” you murmured against his lips.

“No, no,” he assured between quick, soft kisses.  Then he paused and added, “Well, maybe.”  You rolled your eyes and pushed playfully away from him.  Chuckling he and pulled you back in, keeping you close. “Wait no I’m kidding, come back.”  You immediately gave up the fight and settled comfortably back into his arms.  He placed a kiss to the top of your head, and in that quiet moment you wished it could last forever.  That was until you felt a pang of hunger curdle in your stomach.  Knowing that an embarrassing growl was just around the corner, you asked,

“Would you want to go get breakfast?”

“That sounds good,” he responded, burying another kiss into your messy bedhead. “Get ready.  I know the perfect place.” 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Konnichiwa!” A woman of small frame and jet black hair stood at your table side, a toothy grin painting her face.

“Konnichiwa,” you greet back with a small awkward chuckle.

“Are you Americans?” the woman asked, head slightly cocked to the side. 

“We are—sorry, we don’t know Japanese.”  You threw a quick glance to Mark whose eyes were fixed on you. 

“That’s okay~” the waitress responded promptly in a singsong tone. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have the pancakes.”

“I’ll do the tamagoyaki [a/n: this is a “sweet and savory omelette” that is a traditional breakfast option in Japan], please,” Mark added, his stare only now moving to look at the waitress. 

“Hai!” She gave a slight bow before heading off to presumably ring in your order.  Waiting to be sure the waitress was out of earshot you finally looked to Mark with an incredulous expression.

“Y’know, this is definitely not what I had in mind when I suggested breakfast.”  He flashed his pearly whites at you, apparently pleased with his choice.

“Trust me, Japan really has breakfast figured out.”  You chuckled before taking a sip of your water. “My mom and I come here sometimes.”  The unspoken question on your mind: did your father come too?  Instead, you say,

“Debbie makes some of the best pancakes, I’ll have to see if this place can stack up.”

“Pun intended?” Mark laughed.

“In all seriousness, I’ve never been to Japan before.  Tokyo is gorgeous!”  He hummed in agreeance.

“You should see the countryside.”

“If it’s anything like it is in anime’s I can only imagine.” 

“Honestly? It’s pretty close.” Your foot bounced under the table, still shaking off the jitters from the flight here.  You took another sip of water, dehydrated from the adrenaline rush.  Mark’s broken face came into view as you put the glass back down.  He tried to hide it, but you knew him well, and his pain spoke to you even in the silence.  Uncrossing your legs you slipped your foot from the sandal you were wearing and reached out to rub your toes over calf.  This seemed to bring him back to you, his body tensing for a moment then relaxing.  “I’m excited for you to try these hotcakes.  I’m telling you they are kind of ridiculously fluffy.  It’s like eating a cloud.”

You laughed, eliciting a grin from him. “Well now I’m really excited.”  Your morning continued on in this fashion, conversation staying to lighthearted subjects and an obvious all together avoidance of what happened yesterday.  A part of you wondered if he chose to eat on the opposite side of the planet in an attempt to avoid hearing any news stories or strangers’ conversations relating to the matter.  The thought alone left your heart burning in your chest.  As desperately as you wanted to talk to him and find out the details of the event, you would leave the ball in his court and wait patiently for him to be ready to open up.

Instead, you offered him wordless comfort in the small gestures of connection as you sat there together.  Rubbing your foot against his leg under the table, reaching over with your hand to rest on top of his, placing a kiss to the top of his head when coming back from the restroom.  It was the best you could give him, and though they seemed insignificant to you, they meant the world to Mark.  They were all he needed in that moment.

“Okay, don’t tell Debbie, but that might have been the best pancake I’ve ever had,” you confessed, leaning back in your seat with your hands placed on your stomach in dramatic effect.  Mark’s face lit up.

“I told you!  It doesn’t even make sense how good they are.”  You laughed at his excitement.

“Speaking of Debbie, is she working today?”  The joy melted quickly from his face, and yours mirrored the same emotion.

“I doubt it.  I should probably go see how she’s doing…”  You stayed silent but nodded your head in agreement.  Having paid the tab a few minutes prior, you both stood from the table and headed back to the small alley you’d landed in.  “Ready?” he asked, you now cradled in his arms with your arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Mhmm.”  You both move in synch towards each other, kissing slowly and deeply.  The feeling of his lips against yours never ceased to put butterflies in your chest, your toes coming to a point in pure bliss.  Your mouths moved together, complimenting one another effortlessly.  His tongue skimmed along your bottom lip but then pulled away shyly, sending chills down your spin.  By the time you broke away for air you were already high above the ground and moving just below the clouds.  You buried your face into the crook of his neck, still unable to handle the height after all this time.

Instead of thinking of how far up you were, you focused on the feeling of weightlessness you had when held in his arms.  For all his strength and otherworldly capabilities, he treated you like a delicate flower.  Doing his best to offer you the world while forever being mindful of your fragility.  He always kept you so secure, and flying like this in his arms left you with a feeling of almost ethereality.

Unknown to you, this feeling was requited in Mark – only he felt the weightlessness in his mind and heart.  He could never let you go, and had resolved long ago that you would be apart of his life forever.  Even in the centuries to come where you were dead and gone, you would live on eternally in his heart.

♫♪ I won’t forget you. ♫♪

[cielito--lindo]

a starting point

wc: 2.3 k

parings: bakugou katsuki x reader, some iida tenya x reader

a/n and warnings: aged!up au, prohero!reader, afab!reader, swearing, angst and a small amount of fluff, maybe eventual smut??

Part One. Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Part Five

Get.

Up.

Come on, get up. Get up. Get up. Get up.

Bright. Why was it so bright? Get up, you can do it.

Your body groaned in protest at the movement as your eyes slowly blinked open.

That’s it, get up.

Moonlight. Big and bright, bathing you in its comforting embrace.

You can do this.

***

“Well, this is an interesting turn of events.” Makoto Oishi had been your therapist for the past few months, she came highly recommended by Izuku when you moved out on your own. Her bright yellow eyes squinting at your over her glasses. She adjusted her long red hair that she kept in a loose braid. 

You sat on her plush couch, hugging one of her throw pillows to your chest. A few days had passed by since Katsuki’s apology, which you internally dubbed “the Incident”. Miriko caught wind of the event and gave you a few days off to “get your shit together”, which you deeply appreciated.

“Not to be the stereotypical therapist here, but how does all of this make you feel?” You simply blinked at the older woman sitting across from you. You opened and closed your mouth a few times in an aborted attempt at a response.

“Conflicted, I think? There’s so much up here” You tapped your temple “it all feels so jumbled and convoluted..”

Your therapist nodded, jotting down a few notes on the pad in her lap. “Let’s break it down into two scenarios. How did you feel having him in your home?”

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tried to picture the moment his sneakers crossed your threshold. The soft lighting of your home causing his blonde spikes to glow like a halo once he slipped off his hood. The way his carmine eyes scanned your home like he was trying to find something. “I-He.” Another deep breath “Even though I pulled him into my space, it still felt like..an invasion? I had my own space that I created for myself a-and having him admit to basically stalking me was unnerving.”

You tried to ignore the scratching sound of pen on paper “How did it feel when he left?”

“Cold” was your immediate response, surprising yourself. 

Makoto raised an eyebrow “Cold” She repeated “As in temperature or cold as in..”

“I felt..cold.” Your own brow furrowed as you tried to explain yourself. “My quirk relies on the moon, I thrive in her beams. But I’ve always felt this lingering cold, the kind that settles in your bones.” Some of your Dark Matter seeped out of your finger tips, manipulating itself into different shapes. “I didn’t realize it until he touched me that that chill also felt like...loneliness. I know I’m not actually alone, I have my friends, colleagues, I’m surrounded by people all the time. I-I” Your voice faltered “The moment he touched me, it felt like standing in the sun again. And I hated it. I hated how much I missed it...missed him.”

Makoto set down her notepad and glanced over at you “When you started to come and see me, whenever we would talk about Bakugou, you would immediately shut down the topic. You came into these sessions with the mindset of hating him forever. If the roles were reversed or if it was one of your best friends and they all of a sudden went missing and couldn’t get ahold of them, what would you do?”

You gaped at her “I’d do everything I can to make sure they were okay..”

“I needed to make sure you were okay”

“You asked him why he never called, but how could he have when you severed every point of communication?”

A flash of defensiveness flashed through you and as you were about to voice it, she raised a hand “Let me finish. You slowly began to open up and talk about him and when I asked you why you packed everything and left in the middle of the afternoon when he was on patrol, you responded with” she flipped through her notebook “there was no point in talking with him about how I felt, he’s too stubborn and headstrong to change. To make things right.””

“I’m gonna make this right, angel. I’m gonna be good for you, I promise.”

“You didn’t bank on him actually trying, did you?” Makoto’s voice was soft, but her words were filled with hard truths. You only managed to shake your head, your chest feeling tight. “Look, honey. I’m not blaming you, you did what you felt like you needed to do in that moment to find peace. But, I also need you to understand that as much as you felt hurt by Bakugou’s actions, you probably hurt him too. The way you’ve described this man would be an emotional constipated, work obsessed, hot-head, right?” Another nod “And from the notes I have about his family, I would say he didn’t grow up having emotional heart to hearts, right? So, when you come at him with all the complaints you have, he probably thought the immediate worst and closed off.”

She noticed your hesitation and leaned forward, taking your hand in hers “I’m not saying you have to immediately reconcile and pretend everything is fine again, but if he’s willing to listen and put in the work, maybe hear him out? Definitely talk about the stalking though, boundaries are important. Closure doesn’t always mean forgiveness, you know. Six months is a long time, anything is possible.”

God, sometimes you hated therapy.

Makoto gave you a sympathetic smile and helped you come up with a game plan for your talk with Katsuki. 

***

“Oh thank god, it took you long enough!” Jirou exclaimed, getting up from your apartment stoop. “My ass was starting to get numb.” She winced. 

Ochako held up a little plastic grocery bag which looked filled to the brim “Some comfort food as you tell us about what in the fuck happened last night?” 

“Oooh, are you going to tell them about the handsome young man that was over?” Mrs. Ishimoto’s popped out from her kitchen window. You felt your cheeks blossom with red embarrassment as your friends' heads whipped around to stare at you. “He was quite the looker! He was a bit of a grump, but really concerned for our girl.”

Jirou’s eyes grew wider and wider “Oh my god.”

“Again, thank you so much, Mrs. Ishimoto!” You gave her a tight grin “Always a pleasure!”

You quickly ushered your friends into the apartment and prepared yourself for the hoards of questions that were about to follow. “Before the interrogation begins, there are a few ground rules. I will try to answer as truthfully as possible, you may ask one question at a time, and we can start once we pour some drinks.”

Jirou and Ochako gave you a quick salute before scurrying to the kitchen to make drinks. With all the commotion in the kitchen, you trudged into your room to change. There was a lingering pain behind your eyes from the sheer amount of stress and tension that came after therapy. You and Makoto decided that you would reach out to Katsuki and keep him at arm's length, you didn’t trust yourself at home, so a public space would be best. Is this something you truly wanted? Hearing the girls giggling in the other room made your heart clench. The kitchen was a sacred space in your old home, what Katsuki would call “his domain”, you were hopeless in the kitchen when you had first met.

“What the fuck is burning?” Katsuki yelled over the smoke detector, he grabbed a dish towel and began waving it around, trying to dispel some of the smoke.

“Bakugou!” You practically dropped your phone as he rushed in. You looked up at the commotion “Fuck, my pasta!” You screeched, rushing over to dump the burnt pot into the sink.

“Are you trying to burn this whole place down, you idiot?” Katsuki looked down at the charred remains of your dinner “Oh, you better be fucking joking.” The burnt noodles were still smoking as piercing red eyes bore into you “You didn’t add any fucking water?!”

“I thought that’s what the sauce was for!” 

“You have to cook the pasta first, Space Case! IN WATER. How in the fuck are in the top 3 of our class?” Bakugou ground out “You were probably going to use jarred sauce, weren't you?.” He glared.

You tried to sneakily hide the store bought sauce behind the fruit stand on the counter “Of course not” You scoffed “Jarred sauce? Uh gross... that would be so..yucky.”

“Oh my fucking god, come on. You’re lucky I’m the only one fucking capable to teach you this shit.”

Your eyes widened at him “Really?”, you had been getting to know Bakugou more and more since getting paired as sparring partners, but you weren’t sure if you had reached cooking class level of friendship. Not even Midoriya had achieved that rank yet.

Your cooking lessons had become your weekly bonding moments, it was the way he had asked you on your first date and eventually, moving in together. As much as you loved your freedom and the peace it had brought you, you knew it was time to confront everything that happened. At the time, you felt hopeless and felt like you were emotionally dependent on a man who didn’t seem to have you in consideration. 

Katsuki Bakugou’s life motto was to be the best at everything he could and he excelled the majority of the time, but it seemed like the only thing he didn’t prioritize was becoming the best partner to you. 

You knew you weren’t perfect, your moods could shift as quickly as the tides and you were too empathetic for your own good. Putting everyone’s needs above your own. The breakdown felt like a ticking time bomb - something that was never an if, but when. Being on your own forced you to put yourself first, to prioritize your own self worth. 

To learn to live for yourself and not for someone else.

As you sat on your bed and listened to your friends clatter and laugh in your kitchen, the realization hit you.

If you could change and show yourself you’re capable of that change, why would you assume someone else wasn’t?

Had Katsuki genuinely changed that much in the six months you were apart?

You hurriedly slipped into some comfy sweats and a hoodie, wandering back and seeing your best friends dance to the “hot girls only” playlist Jirou made for your girl nights. Once they caught your eyes, they waved you over with flushed grins and waggled eyebrows. 

“Shots first!” Uraraka handed you and Jirou shot glasses filled with a clear liquid that you knew would make you regret in the morning. “And we already ordered pizza!”

“Kanpai!”  The three of you cheered, the burn settling in your belly. You were handed another drink, thankfully one with less alcohol as you made your way back to the living room.

You settled in with crossed legs, hugging your emotional support couch pillow. Jirou and Ochako nestled in on either side.

“So are you gonna start or are we gonna bully it out of you?” Jirou smiled.

Your eyes closed as you took in a deep breath “I’m going to ask some questions and I need y’all to be as truthful as possible. We listen and we don’t judge.”

“We listen and we don’t judge” The girls recited back.

“I’ve never wanted you guys to choose between me or Katsuki, especially since we all still have to work together.” One eye peeked open “Do you think he’s changed since everythings happened?”

The girls next to you were uncharacteristically quiet “We listen and we don’t judge” You reminded them “I know you guys still hang out, babes. It’s kind of hard to avoid Mina’s incredible insta.” You turned to Uraraka “And you, ma’am. Katsuki and Izuku are attached at the hip, that’s impossible to avoid.”

“He does seem..different.” Jirou spoke up first “I mean don’t get me wrong, he’s still an asshole the majority of the time, but he..thinks before he speaks now. I can tell he’s trying to open up more? Honestly, I think the Bakusquad would know more than I do.”

“God, he hated that stupid group name.” You snorted, sipping your drink.

“He’s in therapy!” Ochako blurted out, covering her mouth in surprise. You and Jirou blinked at her outburst.

“Therapy?”

Ochako nodded at you “He made me swear not to say anything, but holy shit it felt like I was suffocating.” She let out a sigh in relief. “After everything happened, he and Izu had a really really long talk. Like almost 3 hours and I guess he asked Best Jeanist to help him find a counselor.”

It felt like your brain short-circuited. Katsuki Bakugou, the man who refused counseling after being kidnapped by the League and refused counseling after dying then resuscitated during the War, willingly went to therapy because...of you? “Shi-Shinsou told me-” You cleared the knot in your throat “Shinsou told me that he asked about me and then suddenly stopped.”

The girls nodded “Yeah, he did the same with us. Well, he’d try to ask me, but I’d only give him minimal updates.” Jirou shrugged, “I didn’t know how comfortable you were with us telling him about you, so I wanted to play it safe.”

You squeezed her hand in understanding.

Ochako took a swig of her drink and drew her knees to her chest. “I remember overhearing him talk to Izuku about it and it seems he stopped around the time he started therapy.”

God damn it, you hated when your therapist was right. You let out a groan, letting your head fall back against the sofa.

“I’m guessing he didn’t tell you all of that when he came over...” Ochaka asked, peeking over her knees.

“He definitely did not.” The eager looks of anticipation on your friends’ faces made you roll your eyes fondly “Alright, alright.” You recounted the events of last night.

“Bold of you to answer the door in a robe regardless.” Ochako giggled. 

You gave her a playful shoved and continued “According to my nosy neighbor, he had stopped by after our fight, but I obviously wasn’t home.”

“That’s probably when he started freaking out.” Jirou murmured and you nodded in confirmation.

You continued your tale, earning gasps and colorful commentary. 

“When he crowded me in the kitchen, I thought he was going to keep touching or even kiss me, but when I called him by his first name...” You paused, remembering the look of reverence on Katsuki’s face. Like a man who has prayed for salvation and finally heard the voice of God. “I swear to God, I almost thought he was going to cry. I-I didn’t recognize him.” 

Ochako reached over and wiped the wetness that had collected on your cheeks. 

You didn’t even realize you were crying.

“I had t-to b-b-beg him to g-go. I didn’t want him to see m-me..” You gestured to yourself, hoping they understood. “And he-fuck. He fucking apologized!” You wiped away the rest of your tears, your face flushing in annoyance “God, he fucking apologized and he promised he would fix things. Whatever the fuck that means.” You downed the rest of your drink.

Jirou and Ochako leaned against you, trying to give you some comfort. “That’s a lot, bestie.” Ochako commented softly, earning a snort from you.

“My therapist thinks it’s time he and I talk.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

“Ura, you literally threatened to go fullTonya Harding on his PR girlfriend two days ago..”

“And I’ll do it again!”

“Look, babe. Whatever you feel like you want or need to do, we’re here.” 

You felt your eyes get watery again as you enveloped your best friends in a hug “Thank god for Aizawa’s dorm assignments.” You giggled.

DING DOOONG. DING DOOONG.

“Pizza!”

The three of you rushed over and swung the door open.

Several dozen flowers occupied the front of your entryway. Marigolds, tulips, daises, roses, peonies, even fucking succulents. You blinked at the garden in front of you “Oh my god.” You leaned down to pick up a vase, plucking the card from within “Spicy chicken curry?”

Confused looks were shared. Jirou grabbed the card from the lily bouquet “Vegetable udon..”

“Tamagoyaki?”

“Yakisoba!”

“Tonkatsu ramen..” You froze. 

Oh my god. 

Oh my god

Katsuki placed two steaming bowls of ramen on the table in front of you, you felt your self grin “And it’s not even my birthday!” You teased. 

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but you could still see the small smirk on his lips “What? A man can’t cook his lady her favorite dish?”

You let out a soft hum of appreciation as you took your first bite “By all means, do it more often.”

“Brat.” His full grin making a rare appearance. “I-uh. I wanna ask you something, angel.”

“If this is about that All Might figurine we saw in Shibuya, I already confirmed with Ochako that Midoriya doesn’t have one.” 

Katsuki let out a snort “Not what I was after, but good call. Remind me to go back and get that.”

“Nah, I already ordered it for you, it’s on the way.”

“Fuck, I love you.”

A blush colored your cheeks “Yeah, yeah. I love yo-”

“Move in with me.”

You felt the card fall from your hands as you looked at the gifts in front of you with new eyes. He had remembered each flower he had bought for you on your dates and what he had cooked for dinner. You felt the card slip out of your fingers. When you first started dating, Katsuki made sure to always buy you flowers, even when you had begged him to stop because you didn’t have any more space in your dorm. If you even commented about a certain flower, you could expect it at your door, he had even imported a few on your birthday.

Jirou let out a low whistle “What a fucking way to start.”

so...it's been a bit?

turns out increased depression and the urge to have the Eternal Sleep™ actually makes it super hard to write anything, so apologies if this is actually shit lol

as always, please leave comments, concerns, or literally anything. thank you for all the likes on the previous parts!!

luv u pookies 🫶

taglist: @raeroowrites @onlyisaa @kimsrie @zennypiee @arfbarkwoofmeow

dividers: @saradika

[juniperhillpatient]

[anxiouscherubs]

find you in my heart

✦ summary: the one where you get dumped and your best friend is there to help you realize what you truly deserve… what’s been in front of you all along.

✦ warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, slight angst, some fluff, oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, throat fucking, big dick yh, unprotected sex (be safe!), yh is desperately in love, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, mentions of cheating (past relationships), yh and reader met as baristas, pet names, au where jeong yunho can actually cook, yunho is a lil possessive

✦ pairing: nonidol!yunho x reader

✦ author’s note: as a yunho ult, a yh best friends to lovers has been at the top of my list of things to write. i started this fic after yun posted these photos because i just could not get the vision of late night walks with him out of my head! i am new to writing so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you enjoy ♡ as always, thank you to my lovely best friends for enabling me and proofreading my depravity. love you guys forever. ♡

✦ word count: 12.9k

✦ read it on ao3: here

Two years. Two years down the drain because your ex decided he “wasn’t feeling it anymore.” You had a sneaking suspicion his change of heart had to do with his hot new coworker, but you couldn’t think too far into it or it would rip you apart more than he already had. 

He had grown distant, and you chalked it up to the stress of his new job. But when he started staying late every other day and missing your sacred Thursday date nights, you knew it was the beginning of the end. You were happy together (most of the time), but you were never certain you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. There were certain things about him that you tolerated, but you wanted your forever to be spent with someone who felt perfect for you. And he… didn’t.

Even though you knew he wasn’t who you’d spend your life with, it stung just the same to receive his messages. 

loser: hey y/n… i’ve been thinking about this for a while now but i think it’s time for us to part ways. 

loser: we’ve had a good run, but i’m just not really feeling it anymore. i hope you understand. 

loser: wish you the best. xx 

You’d changed his contact and blocked his number immediately, saving yourself from the hurtful words he’d throw your way if you tried to ask for any reasoning or clarification. He always turned into a different person the moment you tried to express your emotions. 

“She’s just a coworker, y/n, stop being crazy. You don’t have to worry about her.” 

You push his words out of your brain again before they take over. So what if he left you for her? They probably deserve each other. You knew you were better off, that wasn’t the issue. It was that you settled for two years, letting this man who clearly didn’t respect you treat you like an afterthought the entire time. The more you think about it, the more you blame yourself for placing such little value on your own time and energy. 

You sit on your couch, your coffee table littered with tear-soaked tissues and instant ramen cups. You haven’t  left the house since you got The Texts last night, and you've watched a season of your favorite crime show and eaten your body weight in Buldak since then. You know you can’t sit here and wallow anymore or you’ll start to lose your mind, so you drag yourself to the bathroom to assess the damage. Eyes red and puffy from crying, hair tangled and tied loosely in a scrunchie, tear drops lingering on the same sweatshirt you’d been wearing for the last 24 hours. You look like hell. 

“I need to get out of this apartment,” you say to yourself. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to your best friend before hopping in the shower. After washing your hair 3 times, shaving your legs, and exfoliating the sadness away, you’re finally starting to feel human again. You wrap yourself in your favorite towel before checking your phone again. 

y/n: yunnie… are you free tonight? 

yunho: for you? absolutely. you ok? haven’t heard from you all day.

Of course he’d notice you going MIA for a day. You and your best friend texted every single day, sending quick little updates or funny videos. He’d probably been worried sick, but he never wants to pry. He’s always respected your space like that. 

y/n: long story. i’ll explain later. 

y/n: meet me in front of blossom in 30? 

Blossom was the cafe you and Yunho met working at. You were both burning the candle at both ends working nearly full time as baristas during your senior year of college. Your closing shifts together kept you sane during finals, blasting music and sharing your life stories while you cleaned up the shop. He’d even walk you home, after every closing shift, never wanting to let you walk alone so late. You both gave your two weeks notice right after graduation, but promised each other you’d make up for all the time you wouldn’t spend working together anymore. 

That was four years ago, and he’d been such a stable presence in your life since then. You’d grown closer over the years, spending countless movie nights and BBQ dates together. He knew everything about you (after a movie night with too much wine and lots of oversharing) and hadn’t gone running for the hills, so you knew he really cared. You didn’t really have time to make friends in college because you were either working, in class, or studying, so he was really all you had. He was your safe space. You both stayed close by after graduation, staying in your apartments in the city 2 blocks from the cafe on either side. It was nice having your best friend so close by, and the cafe remained a staple in your friendship as a middle point between your two homes. In your reminiscing, you realize you missed your Saturday morning coffee date with him. 

yunho: of course, bean. i missed you this morning. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the nickname. It always does. That, and when he calls you sweetheart. Your heart almost came up your throat the first time he pulled that one. Yunho started calling you bean after you spilled an entire bag of light roast on the cafe floor trying to refill the hopper for the openers. He’ll never let you live that one down. You remembered giggling and scooping coffee beans off the floor on your hands and knees together, his hand brushing over yours when you both reached for the dustpan, your eyes meeting, breath quickening… 

You shake the memory from your brain, coming back to reality just as you both had snapped out of it in the moment four years ago, scattering to finish cleaning up and avoiding eye contact the rest of the night. You always dismissed the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours, blaming the exhaustion from working a closing shift after being up all night studying. He had a girlfriend at the time, he wouldn’t have been interested in you that way anyway. He’s your friend, y/n, be realistic. You’re reaching. You send another quick text before getting dressed, and he of course responds right away. 

y/n: i missed you too, i’m sorry i should’ve texted. it’s been a shitty 24 hours. i’ll see you soon 

yunho: no need to apologize. i’ll be there, see you in a bit. 

25 minutes pass and you somehow manage to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You dried your hair and pulled half of it up in a claw clip, leaving some pieces out to frame your face. You threw on some concealer and a bit of blush, trying to hide how puffy your eyes still were. It was a chilly fall night, so you opted for your favorite pair of light wash jeans and an oversized black sweater, accompanied by your beat up black chelsea boots and your gray wool coat. 

After a quick 5 minute walk you round the corner to see Yunho standing in front of the cafe, his back facing you. Of course he’s right on time. His broad shoulders fill out the black jacket he’s wearing, his crossbody bag tucked under his arm. The neon sign in the cafe window leaves a purple hue reflecting off his freshly dyed dark gray hair. He turns his head at a car passing by, and you catch yourself smiling at the lost puppy look in his eyes. He must’ve seen you approaching in his peripheral, his head snapping in your direction. A subtle smile plays on his lips as he locks eyes with you. His warm brown eyes are full of an emotion you can’t quite name. 

Your chest aches at the realization that your ex, in the two years you were together, never looked at you like that. Why did you ever think you were important to him? Your throat suddenly tightens and your vision starts to blur, tears welling in your eyes for the millionth time today. Yunho’s smile drops, his brow furrowing as he takes two long strides to meet you. 

“Y/n, what is it, what happened?” He reaches for your shoulders to hold you steady, but you push forward to bury your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other snakes around your shoulders. Your hands find his waist, gripping his shirt underneath his jacket. His familiar scent of jasmine envelops you, and you realize how badly you needed your best friend to help you through this.

”H-He dumped me,” you sniffle, letting out a shaky breath into Yunho’s chest, “he d-dumped me yesterday, through a fucking t-text message,”  another unsteady exhale as you try to level your breathing. 

“He did what?!” He pulls you in closer to him, the disbelief lacing his tone reassuring how rational your feelings are.

“It’s over,” you blink away your tears, tilting your head back to look up at your best friend. You’ve never seen the expression on his face before, like anger and worry are battling it out in his brain, and he can’t decide which one should take center stage first. “He texted me last night, saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it anymore’ and he ‘wished me the best,’” your mocking tone repeating his words reignited the angry flame in your chest. 

“Wished you the best,” he scoffs, “is he kidding?” He rolls his eyes.  “That’s how you end a two-year-long relationship?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, taking a half step back to give you some more space to catch your breath.  

“I can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with someone who just kicked me to the curb without a second thought,” you pinch the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, your eyes lingering on his collarbone peeking out from his slightly unbuttoned shirt. “I’m convinced he left me for a coworker, the one he told me not to worry about.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips, the burning feeling behind your eyes returning as more tears come. “I’m more upset with myself for letting him treat me like this for so long,”

“Hey, look at me,” Yunho cautiously brings his hands to your face, cradling your head gently. You lean into his touch, dragging your gaze up to meet his.

“He doesn’t know what he just threw away, sweetheart,” Yunho holds your teary cheeks in his hands. “You are the most beautiful creature this world has ever seen, and if he doesn’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” You choke out between sniffles. 

“Oh y/n… of course I do. I always have,” he wipes a tear from your cheek before it reaches your lips, “since the day I met you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at his admission, your chin wobbling as you try to hold it together. 

His eyes search yours, that unspoken emotion taking over his features again. You almost catch the moment he shakes it away, reminding himself that he’s here to support you. His hands fall from your cheeks to grab your hands instead, that familiar electricity prickling your skin as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Do you wanna go inside? I called ahead and ordered you a maple latte and a raspberry scone as soon as I got your text.” He tilts his head in the direction of the cafe next to you. 

You look inside to see two to-go cups and a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. “And an iced caramel latte for you, I’m assuming,” you poke his stomach teasingly, “thank you, Yun, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did,” he gently squeezes your hands, a warm smile taking over his features. “Come on, it seems like we have a lot to catch up on. I have a feeling you have a lot to get off your chest.” He lets go of one hand, keeping hold of the other to walk you to the door. You lace your fingers through his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

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You’d spent the last hour sitting in your favorite booth with Yunho, hashing through every single thing you hated about your ex. He was appalled by the things you’d told him, wishing he knew sooner so he could’ve tried to help you see you deserve someone better. Someone who valued your emotions, understood your needs, respected your boundaries… Someone like — 

“Yunho, are you with me?” Your voice shakes him out of his daze, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Sorry bean, I just can’t believe he was such an asshole behind closed doors,” he recovers, “I wish you told me sooner. I feel like I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been.”

”It’s not your fault, I could’ve told you and I didn’t. I think I was in denial,” you scoff. ”I was settling and I knew it, I was just trying to pretend things were better, but I think I’d been checked out for a while.” You swirl your coffee around in your cup, avoiding the concerned look in his eye. If you looked at him too long, you’d risk reading something deeper in the way he cares about you, something that made your heart flutter and ache all at once.

”Y/n, do you remember the girl I was dating when we met?” His tone shifts, a slight vulnerability creeping in. You stop moving your cup, watching the drink settle. You nod hesitantly, still avoiding his eyes. 

Of course you remember her. You had developed a crush on Yunho in your first week working together, but you had to smother it at the first mention of her. Any hope you had left for a chance with him disintegrated the first time you saw her — she was the kind of beautiful you only saw on TV. Flawless skin, no split ends, a perfectly sculpted body. Even her voice was smooth. She seemed perfect for him. 

“She cheated on me.” 

Your head snaps up to him in disbelief. “Excuse me?” 

You remember him telling you they broke up in passing — it had been a month after you started a relationship of your own. Part of you always wondered if you had just missed your window to pursue something with Yunho, but you pushed that thought out of your head so you could be present for your best friend. He didn’t want to go into detail about the breakup at the time, and he never did in the two years that followed. 

“For the last six months of our relationship, she’d been sleeping with someone she reconnected with from high school. They realized they loved each other, and she ended things.” He offers a sad smile, but the bitterness lingers beneath the surface. You feel a tightness in your chest wondering why he didn’t want to share his pain with you while all of this was going on.  

”Oh, Yunnie,” you reach for his hand across the table, holding his large palm in yours. “I’m so sorry. I don’t understand how anyone could ever do that to you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe we can call it even?” He lets out a breathy laugh, ignoring your question. “You didn’t tell me your relationship troubles, I didn’t tell you mine. Now it’s all on the table and we can leave it in the past.” He squeezes your hand, waiting for your response. 

“Fine.” You flash a tight lipped smile, wanting to hash this open again with him at a later time. You didn’t keep secrets from each other, so why was he avoiding getting into this with you? 

“Well, it’s almost closing time.” Of course he’s gonna change the subject. “Do you need a night alone or are you coming home with me tonight?” He forces a smile from across the table, and you could’ve sworn his ears turned the slightest bit red asking you to spend the night. Sleepovers weren’t out of the norm for the two of you, but this proposal felt different for some reason. 

“I think if I’m alone at my place tonight I’ll revert to the sad couch potato I was before I texted you earlier.” You don’t really believe that, feeling like you’ve moved past the depression stage of grief and slowly inching toward acceptance. But you still wanted the company. 

“I’d love to come home with you, Yunnie.”

“Then let’s go, sweetheart.” 

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Your neighborhood was so beautiful at night. The soft streetlights cast a gentle glow on the sidewalk, illuminating little puddles of water from last night’s rain. The fall air feels cool and crisp, carrying the faint smell of the changing leaves. This late at night, the stillness is calming… usually. 

You two had found this to be the perfect environment to have your deepest talks. Taking regular nighttime walks with Yunho had become one of your cherished rituals, especially when one of you needed to get something off your chest. You’d shared fragments of your lives, from your family drama to his frequent arguments with a stubborn coworker at his new job. But tonight, a suffocating silence swirls around you. 

You’d taken a full lap around the neighborhood in silence since leaving Blossom, the familiar path devoid of your usual chatter. As you approach Yunho’s place, his brisk pace and hands shoved deep in his pockets told you he wasn’t going to be the one to acknowledge it. He was never one for confrontation. If he wouldn’t tell you what’s going on voluntarily, you’d have to coax it out of him.   

You stop walking, the cool air feeling sharper on your skin. He takes three more strides before he stops too, spinning back around to face you, confusion etched on his devastatingly handsome features.

“You okay, bean?” he asks, tilting his head at you, genuine concern flickering in his eyes. 

“I feel like I should be asking you the same thing,” you reply, barely above a whisper. Maybe you weren’t one for confrontation either. 

He takes a step closer to you, “I’m fine,” he says with a quick shrug and a slight shake of his head. 

“Then why haven’t you spoken to me since we left Blossom? Did I say something to upset you?” You try your hardest to grab your frustration before it bubbles up, but you can already tell it’s too late. His dismissive tone, both here and at the cafe, gnaws at you. It triggers something inside of you from your recently ended relationship, and you feel on the verge of either shutting down or letting your emotions spiral.  

“I just thought you might want a quiet walk is all.” He can barely look you in the eye, and that’s when you know something is very wrong. 

“Come on Yun, you know that’s not what’s going on. Something is bothering you.” The frustration claws higher and higher, an unwelcome tightness gripping at your chest. Don’t cry, y/n.

He opens his mouth, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but stops himself, his hands finally pulling from his pockets to rest on his hips. He stares at a fallen leaf swirling in a puddle between you. 

“Is it because we talked about your ex?” He winces just a little at your words. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds, I just thought after everything we’ve shared with each other that you’d want to talk to me about it.” You don’t mean for your words to sound accusatory, but based on the way his body tenses, you realize they must have. 

“It’s not that, y/n, it’s not about…” his voice trails off into a sigh. His eyes search yours, his mind racing trying to decide if he wants to get into what’s really going on, what he’s been keeping inside for so long. 

“Then what is it?” You’re grasping at straws, desperately trying to get him to give you anything to go off of. When you’re met with more silence and an indiscernible look in his eyes, you push forward.

“I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me she cheated on you Yun, we help each other through everything.” Anger wells up in you, more at yourself for not asking him to open up to you about it at the time. 

“Y/n, please, it’s more complicated than just her cheating, and I just don’t know if now is the best time to get into it, you’re still—”

“Still what, Yunho? Grieving my own relationship? Just because I just got dumped doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you!” Your voice rises, each word sharp, the tension in your throat threatening to break. “You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, that’s not up to you—”

“Fine,” he interrupts, “do you wanna know the real reason I didn’t tell you, y/n? Is that what you want?” His ears redden, and you can’t tell if he’s angry, embarrassed, or a combination of the two. You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t tell you she cheated because I didn’t care, okay? I didn’t care. Her heart wasn’t in it anymore, but neither was mine.” His chest heaves, squeezing his eyes shut tight for a brief moment to brace himself. 

“I didn’t care that she cheated, because I didn’t want her anyway.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I wanted you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

His eyes burn into yours as his words hang in the air between the two of you. 

“Yunho…” You take a step toward him only for him to take a step back. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it. What is happening right now?

“I’m sorry y/n, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’ve held it in for so long, and I just can’t do it anymore, I—” He stutters over his words, “I wasn’t grieving my relationship, I was grieving yours. You found someone just before she ended things with me, and I realized maybe you and I weren’t meant to be. That we’d never have the chance to try.” His eyes gloss over with pent up emotion, thinking about all the time he spent wondering what could’ve been. “I wanted you, but I had to act like I didn’t, and we were becoming such good friends, I didn’t want to ruin it, I just—” 

”Did you think I didn’t feel the same?” You interrupt him. “That I don’t feel the same now?” 

He tilts his head at you, the tension in his body visibly disintegrating. “What are you saying?” Brows furrowing, cheeks blushing, so many emotions flying through his features at a speed neither of you can process. He runs his hands down his face before resting them on his hips. “Sweetheart, what are you saying?” 

“I wanted you, too, Yun…” The words tumble out of you, a rush of honesty that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. “I want you too.”

He takes another step toward you, his mind racing as he searches for answers to never ending questions. “You did?” Another step. “You do?” 

“Yes, and yes,” you nod, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your admission—both to Yunho and to you. You realize you’d never said it out loud before, not even to yourself. 

“Say it again,” he urges, closing the gap between the two of you. One hand finds your waist while the other gently cradles the back of your neck. His touch lights a fire on your skin, his hands feeling heavier on your body than they ever have before. Your hands find their way to his waist, tugging him closer to you. Chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I want you, Yunho.”  

The tension between you peaks, your grip tightening on one another, like if either one of you lets go, the moment will slip away. Yunho’s eyes search yours, looking for confirmation. 

He gently cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting the familiar spark that had always lingered between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat, caught between the fear of moving too fast and the undeniable pull you have always felt towards him. 

You bring a hand up to his cheek, your fingers gliding over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You linger for a moment before wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, “sweetheart,”  his gaze drops to your lips, and you swear you can hear your hearts beating in time with one another in the quiet. 

You take a deep breath, searching his gaze for the same spark of desire you feel coursing through your body. He inches closer, breath mingling with yours, heating the space between you.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, his voice trembling slightly. 

You nod, breathless, as you lean in just enough to finally close the distance between the two of you. 

The tip of his nose brushes against yours, the contact making your head spin. You’ve thought about this moment countless times, and being here feels so right.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “please kiss me alr—“

His mouth molds to yours before you can finish your sentence, pulling all the remaining air from your lungs. The world around you explodes in a flash of warmth and tenderness, all the hurt you had been feeling melting away into a puddle at your feet.

You feel a rush of emotions— relief, joy, and a deep, intoxicating desire— as he deepens the kiss. Your hands tighten around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip. You lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him and the feeling of his lips on yours erasing everything else you’ve ever felt. 

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you as if you might disappear. This moment, this kiss, feels like a declaration— a culmination of all the unspoken words, the hidden glances, the years of longing between the two of you. It’s exhilarating.

He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, your heavy breaths the only sounds on the quiet street. Your hands slide from his neck, traveling down his chest before settling on his waist. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to cut you off,” he chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “I’ve just been waiting a really long time to do that.” He drops a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

“You can cut me off anytime if it means I get to kiss you,” you nuzzle into his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat slows yours to match. 

“Oh yeah?” He looks down at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Yes, abso—“

His lips connect to yours again, a fire igniting in your belly when his tongue tangles with yours. He tastes like caramel, the sweetness of his latte lingering on his tongue. Wide hands wrap around your hips, dragging you closer, rolling your body into him. 

You snake your hands up his lower back, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt. A low groan rumbles deep in Yunho’s throat at the sensation, sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. A whimper crawls up your throat before you can stop it, and Yunho smiles against your mouth. He draws your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently. 

“Your lips are even softer than I imagined they’d be,” he gives you one more lingering kiss before pulling back. His deep eyes find yours, his blushed cheeks glowing under the streetlights. 

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” Shyness creeps in at the realization that Yunho thought about you in the same way you thought about him. 

“Among other things, yes,” he brushes your hair out of your face, his palm settling to cup your cheek. “You’re cute when you blush.” 

“I am not blushing!” You hide your face in your hands. “Maybe I am, but how can I not when you talk to me like that,” you muffle into your palms. 

“I’ll talk to you any way you want if it means you’ll react like this,” he teases, gently pulling your hands from your face to hold them in his. “Your hands are freezing, sweetheart,” he brings your hands to his mouth, holding them between his and blowing his hot breath onto them to warm them up.

”Well we have been out here a while,” you shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin. 

“Am I still allowed to take you home tonight, or would that complicate things?” He’s either nervous, or hesitant. Either would make sense, you just got dumped and 24 hours later you’re confessing your feelings for your best friend (and kissing him). Anyone with a brain might wonder if you’re rushing, or worse, rebounding. Once you get out of this cold, you can talk things through. 

“Yes, please, let’s go.” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles before pulling him in the direction of his place.

“You got it, baby.” He slings an arm over your shoulder, planting a kiss to the top of your head. Your heart flutters as you walk toward his apartment. 

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As soon as you walk through Yunho’s front door, he breezes past you to grab two wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite rosé while you kick off your boots. As you shed your jacket, he sets two full glasses on his simple wooden coffee table, heading back to his kitchen to grab a bag of chips and some chocolates. He returns with his hands full, confusion lacing his features when he finds you standing in the middle of his living room stifling a laugh. 

“Is something funny?” He chuckles at your reddening cheeks as you let out a giggle. 

“When did you get so nervous to have me in your apartment?” Part of you feels bad for teasing, but he looks so cute when he’s flustered, you can’t help it. “I’ve never seen you move so fast to get me a glass of wine.” 

“Well, when you decide to tell me you want me in the middle of the street, that tends to change things, baby,” he grins at you, clocking you for the second time now having a physical reaction to his newest pet name for you. You thought sweetheart sounded beautiful coming out of his mouth, but baby is a whole new level of intoxicating.

”You said it first, but I guess that does change things, huh, baby?” You cross your arms, challenging him. “Do I make you nervous, Jeong Yunho?” 

“You make me a lot of things, sweetheart, but nervous isn’t one of them.” He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the gesture making your head spin. After setting your snacks down on the coffee table, he finally takes off his jacket and kicks off his shoes. He plops down on his couch, patting the empty cushion next to him. “Come sit with me,” the deep, inviting tone of his voice has you moving to him immediately. Grabbing your wine, you sit next to him, folding one leg up onto the couch to turn to face him. He copies your position, his knee resting just an inch from yours. 

“What do I make you feel, then?” You swirl your wine in your glass as your gaze flicks over his handsome features. Landing on his eyes, your heart jumps at the way they shine for you. 

“Fulfilled,” he starts, scooting closer to you so your knees are just barely touching. “Cared for, understood,” the corner of his mouth quirks up slightly, “and loved.” 

A bloom of warmth floods your chest at the word. This is what you’ve been missing the last few years. You thought your ex would give you this sense of gratification if you gave him more time, but what you were searching for was in your best friend. You always knew in the back of your mind that it was him. The one who held you when you cried, who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drop everything to be there when you needed him. You take a big sip of your wine. 

“I was settling,” the words fall off your lips before you can stop them, the alcohol warming your cheeks right away. “I thought that if I kept giving him everything he would eventually give me half of what I was craving, but in the back of my mind I think I knew he’d never be what I really needed… I settled for him.” 

Yunho offers a soft nod, zero judgment, only understanding. “And what is it you were craving?” He moves even closer to you, your shins now pressed together. 

“You,” you sigh, his deep eyes boring into yours, waiting for more. You tap your fingers on your wine glass, contemplating your next words. “The connection, the comfort, the joy, the love that you gave me,” your throat tightens thinking about the nights you spent longing for your best friend. “I wanted you, how you made me feel…but I settled for him.” 

“Right person, wrong time,” Yunho scoffs, a gentle shake of his head, “kind of applies to us, right? We’ve wanted each other for years now, but we just never had the chance.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, Yun,” your hand rests on his, his fingers immediately lacing between yours. “We’ve wasted so much time,” hot tears blur your vision, but you blink them away before they fall.

“Hey, we have all the time in the world, baby,” he brings your hand to his mouth, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “All the time in the world,” he muffles against your skin. You turn your palm to hold his cheek, and you notice his eyes roll back before they flutter closed.

“All the time in the world,” you repeat, threading your fingers into his hair. A future with Yunho flashes through your mind. Lazy Sunday mornings, celebrating milestones and holidays together, late nights tangled in the sheets, his body taking over yours — 

“Y/n…” His deep, smooth voice brings you back to the moment, the sound of your name on his lips heating your cheeks. 

“Hm?” 

He gently takes your wine glass from your hand, setting it on the coffee table next to his untouched one. When his eyes find yours again, warmth pools in your belly at the darkness that’s taken over his features. “I really want to kiss you again, but I feel like we should talk first,” he takes both your hands in his, and your heart pounds a beat faster in your chest. “If you spend the night tonight, there’s no going back. Once I have you, I don’t think I can let you go.” 

“I don’t want you to let me go, Yun,” you squeeze his hands in yours. “I’ve waited too long to get here, I don’t wanna go back… You already have me, don’t let me go.” The thudding in your rib cage intensifies with every second of heated silence.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” he finally says, pulling you in, crashing his lips into yours. His hands find your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. You straddle him, resting your knees on either side of his hips, deepening the kiss as his hands wander to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him. You roll your hips against him, his grip tightening on you as he drags your body over him. A groan rumbles in his chest and you feel his cock stiffening beneath you, grinding on him slower and harder. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine,” Yuhho’s hand snakes up your back and into your hair, gently removing your clip and tossing it to the floor before gripping your locks and tilting your head to the side, exposing the sensitive column of your neck to his mouth. He nips at your skin, licking the spot with his tongue, moving up to the tender spot under your ear. “My beautiful girl,” his hot breath in your ear has your entire body blooming with goosebumps.

”Yunho,” you roll your hips over him again as his lips travel down your neck to your collarbone, a whimper crawling up your throat at your rough jeans catching on your swelling clit. He feels harder and harder underneath you with each rock against him, and you’re cursing yourself for wearing such thick pants. You just want to feel him. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He tightens his grip on your hair, kissing back up your neck until his lips connect with yours again. You moan into his mouth as his other hand guides your hips back and forth, shamelessly grinding your bodies against each other like horny teenagers. 

“Touch me please,” you beg, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it gently. 

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he teases. He snakes an arm around your waist and smoothly rolls you onto your back, laying you down in the soft cushions. He kneels, settling between your legs, spreading them wide to roll his hips into your needy clothed core. His mouth finds yours again, tangling his tongue with yours.

The hand in your hair loosens, trailing down your body, ghosting over your breasts, down your belly, and lifting your sweater slightly to get to your jeans. He makes light work of the button and zipper, his nimble fingers undoing the fastenings with ease, all while keeping his mouth on yours. You feel him tapping on your ass, signaling you to lift your hips. When you do, he shimmies your jeans down your legs agonizingly slowly, breaking the kiss to admire the bits of your skin he’s dreamt about for years. 

He tosses your jeans on his living room floor, and a timidity slithers up at the realization that you’re in your underwear on your best friend’s couch.  His broad hands rest on your thighs, letting you close them slightly, your shared shuddering breaths the only sound in his quiet apartment. 

“Getting shy on me, sweetheart?” He teases you, reading your mind. He knows you so well. You giggle as he slides his hands to your sweater, dragging it up your body, exposing your panties, shifting it higher and higher until the bottom hem of your bra is barely showing. He slides his hands under your top, expertly cradling your bra-clad breasts in his hands, letting out a restrained groan. The energy shifts and you whimper, watching his eyes locked on the way his fingers swim beneath the fabric of your sweater. You let your legs fall open slightly as Yunho slots himself between them, peppering your belly with gentle kisses and thumbing one of your pebbling nipples through the thin material of your bra. 

“Yun…” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair as he kisses you lower and lower, “please,” 

“Mhm,” he nods against your soft skin, shifting down to lay on his belly between your legs, hooking your knees over his shoulders. You feel his searing breath over your pussy, cooling the growing wet patch in your panties, making you clench around nothing. He picks up on your reaction, gripping your hips before blowing a steady stream of air over your sensitive heat. 

“Oh,” you breathe, wriggling under his strong grasp, spreading your legs wider for him. 

“You’re so reactive,” he murmurs, biting down on your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. You yelp at the sensation, covering your mouth in shock of the sound that just came out of you. Yunho chuckles darkly, “don’t hold back, baby, I wanna hear all the noises you make.” 

He hooks an arm over your hip so his hand rests on your mound. He grips your panties in his fist, pulling them up until the fabric slips between your wet folds, gliding firmly over your clit. You stifle a sob as he tugs them harder, biting you once more. 

“I thought I told you not to hold back, sweetheart,” he licks your skin again, soothing the angry bite mark that will surely be bruised by morning. Another tug of your panties has you mewling, one hand gripping his hair for dear life, the other blindly searching for anything to ground you. 

“Yunnie, please, stop teasing me,” you never thought your sweet and wholesome best friend could have you whimpering and begging beneath him, hardly having touched you. He has such a dark, dominating presence about him in this moment, and it’s making your head fuzzy. 

He lets go of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side, exposing your wet heat to the cool air. You suck in a sharp inhale, finally bare to him.

“Fuck,” he moans, “look at you, baby,” he runs two fingers through your heat, the sudden contact making you cry out. He spreads you wide to see every inch of you, taking his time. “So pretty,” he breathes. 

“I need you, please,” you whine, “are you gonna make me keep begging?” 

“Baby, I’ve wanted to touch you like this for years,” he drawls, “let me savor it a little.” Before you can protest, he teases your entrance with two fingers, slowly thrusting them deeper and deeper inside you, little by little, until his palm is flush with your cunt. Your head falls back into the cushions, your chest heaving. You had daydreamed about how his fingers would feel inside of you, but nothing compares to the real thing. He pumps in and out a few more times before he curls his fingers, hitting the spot that makes your back arch. You grip his hair, tugging on it harder than you mean to, but you can’t help it. You miss the way his eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open at the pain. 

Yunho lets you guide his mouth to your core, his fingers keeping a steady pace as he uses his free hand to spread you open, swirling his tongue around your clit. 

“Yunnie…” you whimper, grinding your hips on his mouth. He nods against you, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the swollen bud over and over in time with his fingers moving in and out of you. Pleasure blooms in your belly as he works you, each flick of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge. 

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” He replaces his tongue with his thumb, circling your clit softly to ease you into the sensation. You push yourself down into his hand, needing more. He chuckles, applying more pressure until he feels you melting under him.

“Yes, so good Yun, fuck,” the pressure low in your belly builds rapidly, and you know if he keeps going at this pace, you’ll fall apart in no time. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and once your eyes lock with his you know you’re a goner. 

His hair is mussed from your tugging on it, his cheeks flushed, his mouth glistening, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he picks up the pace ever so slightly. He smirks at you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so he can kneel between them again, sitting back to get a good look at you, never slowing his ministrations. You make the mistake of glancing down, your mouth drying at the sight of his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans. He hits that spot deep inside you again, and you fall back into the cushions, breathy curses falling from your mouth over and over. 

“You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell,” he drops his free hand next to your head, caging you in beneath him, watching his fingers pistoning in and out of you faster and faster, circling your clit in a matching pace. “Mine, mine, mine,” he repeats over and over, like he can’t believe this is finally happening. He brings his lips to yours, mumbling the words against your mouth as you nod wordlessly in agreement, the taste of yourself on his tongue making you dizzy. He kisses you down to your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin, praise after praise whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a sharp thrust of his fingers, and you cry out at the sensation. 

“I’m yours, I’m yours— fuck!” You feel the cord in your belly tightening and tightening. 

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe, “come around my fingers, baby,” 

“Oh, oh,” you shudder underneath him, his words pushing you over the edge as your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure burning from the inside out. He kisses you hard, slowing his pace bit by bit to ease you through your climax, your body trembling in his hold. “Yunho,” you mumble into his mouth, “I’m yours,” you whisper.

“You sure are,” he peppers your cheeks with soft, tender kisses, your brain slowly coming back online as he slows his fingers, coming to a stop. “And I’m yours,” he kisses you gently, easing his fingers out of you, slipping your panties back into place. He lays down on the couch next to you, pulling your favorite throw blanket over your exposed bottom half, tracing hearts and stars on your skin while your breathing steadies, running his fingers through your hair as you let your eyes flutter closed. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body keeping the flame in your core burning. 

“You are incredible, Jeong Yunho,” you giggle as he kisses every inch of your face, his soft lips mapping the details of your skin. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“Why, because I made you come in 5 minutes flat?” His low drawl has desire coursing through your veins, part of you feeling embarrassed he can turn you on so easily with just his words. 

Your breath hitches as you nod, trying to keep your cool, but he knows you better than that by now. “You really like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, baby?” 

“Apparently I do,” you turn to look at him, a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers dancing across the bare skin of your belly. “I’d love to hear what else you have to say,” you tease. 

“Well for starters, I want to take you to bed” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear, the combination of his hot breath fanning over your skin and the vibrations of his deep voice have lust taking over your thoughts once again. “I want to fuck you properly, and we just don’t exactly have the space for that here,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh,” you giggle, his straightforwardness taking you by surprise. Just like that you’re throbbing for him again, your mind racing thinking about where your night with him is going to go. “I’d like that.”

Before he can catch you, you jump up from the couch, leaving your throw blanket behind, beelining for the hallway toward Yunho’s bedroom, giggling the whole way.

“Hey!” He laughs, clamoring up to chase after you. A few long strides and he’s caught up to you, right in the doorway of his bedroom. He hooks an arm around your waist and you yelp as he spins you around to face him, the momentum of both your running carrying you to the foot of his bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, but he holds you upright, pressing your body against his. Your eyes lock, both of you breathing heavily.

“Someone’s excited,” Yunho chuckles, giving you a firm kiss before pushing you back onto his bed. You let out a breathless laugh as you plop down on the mattress, pushing yourself to sit upright.  

“A little,” your hands find his torso, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smirks down at you as you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach to chest. He lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hands on him, and pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it on the floor. You’d seen him without a shirt a handful of times, but this close he looks ethereal. Your fingers dance across his bare skin, reveling in the feeling of being able to touch him like this. You want to see more of him, touch more of him, taste more of him. 

“Yun,” you start, hesitant to take the lead. You slide your hands down his body until your fingers feel the smooth leather of his belt. Your eyes meet his, not breaking contact while you smoothly undo his belt buckle. “Can I?” You whisper. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, y/n,” he breathes, looking down to where your fingers are undoing the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. You pull his jeans down, and he kicks them to the side, standing before you in only his boxers, his hard length pressing against the confines of the fabric.

His fingers lace through your hair, gripping it gently to tip your head back. Keeping your eyes on him, you slowly pull your sweater over your head, letting him let go of your hair to take it from your hands and toss it to the floor. You reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra, slowly sliding it from your body and dropping it next to your discarded sweater. Yunho’s chest heaves as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, drinking this image of you in, dragging his gaze across your exposed chest.

“So beautiful,” his voice has dropped even lower, a tone you’ve never heard from him, the deep timbre stoking the fire deep inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he cups your face in his hands, bending over to kiss you softly. He parts your lips with his tongue as you rest your hands on his abdomen, sliding one down to palm his cock over his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, your fingers wrapping around him as much as you can through the fabric, stroking his impressive length as he licks deeper into your mouth. You pump him from base to tip, running your thumb over the wet patch at the head of his cock, drawing another guttural moan from his lips. Your mouth is watering at the feeling of him, but it’s not enough. 

You dip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, and Yunho breaks the kiss to watch you pull them slowly down, down, down, until his cock springs free, hanging heavy in front of you. You absentmindedly lick your lips at the sight of him, feeling the wetness in your panties growing. Lust prickles across your skin thinking about feeling him inside of you. 

“Yunho,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around him, pumping him slowly as he stands up straight, tugging your hair in his fist to tip your head back again. “I want you to fuck my throat,” you whine, “please,” 

“Oh, baby,” he grips your hair tighter at your words while you stroke him, the sting making your cheeks warm, “you want me to stuff your pretty little mouth? Wanna wrap those beautiful lips around me?” Towering over you like this, you start to realize just how much he could overpower you, and the thought spreads heat through your abdomen. 

“Please,” you nod, “I wanna taste you,” you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, keeping your eyes on his. You pump his length twice more as you guide his hips toward your mouth, dropping your hands into your lap as his tip rests on your tongue. 

“Mmh, so pretty,” he whispers, wrapping his fist around his cock, tapping his tip on your tongue before sliding past your lips. “If it gets to be too much, just tap my thigh, okay sweetheart?” 

You nod, wrapping your lips around him, sliding your tongue over the sensitive underside of his tip. His head falls back, a beautiful moan falling from his lips as you slowly start to bob your head. You take more of him, inch by inch until his cock taps the back of your throat. You swallow around him, and he absentmindedly thrusts deeper, chasing the sensation. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening again as he holds you there. “I’m gonna move now, is that okay?” He brings his free hand to your cheek, caressing it gently as you nod in confirmation. As soon as you give him the signal, he pulls back slightly, rocking his hips slowly, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him and your tongue gliding over him. “So beautiful with your mouth stuffed so  full,” he praises you, thrusting deeper into your mouth, down your throat, testing the limits of what you can take. He finds a steady rhythm, and you match his pace, bobbing your head and licking over every inch of him as he pumps in and out of your mouth, the stretch burning your throat deliciously.

You can’t take your eyes off of him, tears blurring your vision as you admire his lustful features. His furrowed brow, his blown pupils, his flushed cheeks. The bead of sweat dripping down the tip of his nose, the tensing muscles in his stomach as he pumps into your mouth… he looks so beautiful. You find yourself rocking your hips, grinding into the mattress, looking for any friction you can get.

He thrusts deep into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat again, and he holds you down on him, your nose brushing over his abdomen. The lack of air makes your head spin, and you want him even deeper. You reach up to grab his hips, but your hand bumps his thigh on the way up, which he takes as your signal that it’s too much. 

“Shit,” he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry, was that too rough?” His eyes are full of panic and he brushes your hair out of your face, wiping the saliva that had bubbled up at the corners of your mouth. It all happens so fast, it takes you a moment to process the man waiting in front of you, waiting for a response. Before you can stop yourself, a smile breaks across your face and a giggle rises up your throat. 

“Yunnie,” you laugh, cradling his concerned face in your hands, “I’m fine, more than fine,” you try to catch your breath. “I was trying to…grab your hips to pull you closer, but I … bumped your leg by mistake,” his panicked face relaxes, a beautiful smile taking its place, and he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I do appreciate how quickly you stopped though,” you tease him, your breathing finally steady, “it’s nice to know my boundaries will be taken very seriously.” 

“You scared me!” He laughs, dropping his head in your lap. 

“It was an accident!” You laugh with him, brushing through his hair with your fingers. “I actually wanted you to be more rough with me,” 

He straightens up. “Is that so?” He plants his hands on the mattress on either side of your hips, the darkness returning to his gaze as he stands again, leaning over you. You lean back onto your elbows as he towers over you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body. 

“It is,” you whisper, suddenly feeling so small beneath him, all lightheartedness suddenly sucked out of the room. “I would enjoy that very much,” 

“Mmh,” he hooks an arm under your waist, lifting you easily and moving your body further up the mattress. You let out a small yelp as he drops you, heart warming as he reaches above you to grab a pillow to prop under your head. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable, he hooks his fingers on your panties, and you lift your hips for him to peel them off of you. He tosses them to the floor, turning his attention back to you, spreading your legs wide open, kneeling between them.

“I would enjoy that too, however,” he runs his hands up your calves, your thighs, until he reaches your center, using both hands to spread you wide open. You watch in awe as he runs two fingers through your arousal, teasingly dipping them inside of you. “I want to savor every moment of this,” he dips down to kiss you softly as he drives his fingers even deeper, prodding that tender spot inside of you, drawing a whine from your lips. “Let me be gentle this time, let me show you how much I–” he pauses, something indiscernible flashing through his eyes. “Let me show you how much I’ve been wanting you,” he recovers. “Then next time,” his thumb flicks over your clit, “I will do whatever you want me to do to you,” he circles the sensitive bud, your mind reeling. “Does that sound good, baby?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, “so good,” you whimper as he scissors his fingers inside of you, surely trying to stretch you open for what’s to come. 

He reaches for the drawer in his nightstand with his free hand, but you stop him. “You don’t have to wear one,” you interrupt.

“Are you sure?” His fingers keep moving inside of you, stretching you wider with each thrust, but still giving your conversation his attention.

“I’m on the pill and was tested recently, so yes, please Yunnie, I want to feel you,” you mewl, “please let me feel you,”  

“So good for me,” he praises you over and over, “are you ready?” 

“Yes, please,” you whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, desperate for him. He lifts your hips, pulling you closer to him, nestling himself between your legs, being sure to adjust your pillow once more. He spreads you open with one hand, tapping the tip of his solid cock on your swollen clit before rubbing it up and down your slit, lining up with your entrance. You both freeze at the same time as the reality of what’s about to happen finally hits you.

The feeling of this moment is nothing you’ve experienced before. For years, you’ve longed for Yunho, wanting the intimacy of your friendship to go beyond just emotional intimacy. You’ve yearned for him as long as you’ve known him. You wanted him– all of him. Finally, the universe decided it’s time for you two to experience that. 

You realize he’s feeling it too, his hand finding your cheek in the silence, brushing away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen down your cheek. “I know, baby,” he whispers, and that’s all you need to hear. 

He presses his lips to your forehead as he slowly pushes inside, easing you into the sensation, gently stretching you out on his cock. You feel grateful that he prepped you with his fingers, the sting you feel only lasting a few brief moments before he’s smoothly gliding into you. He pushes in deeper and deeper, until you’re filled to the brim. He drops his hands to the mattress on either side of your head as he bottoms out. Almost in unison, you both let out a shuddering exhale. 

“You feel incredible, fuck” he breathes against your forehead, finally pulling back to look into your eyes, your bodies finally connected physically in the way they’ve felt connected spiritually all these years. “And you look so pretty, my angel,” he whispers, his eyes shining. 

“I don’t know how you can still manage to make me blush when you’re literally inside of me,” you pant, shyly giggling as your cheeks warm under his loving gaze. He hisses at the way you squeeze around him when you laugh. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles. 

“I’m learning so much about you today,” he pulls hips back slightly before burying himself inside you again, all teasing coming to an instant halt as the tip of his cock presses against your g-spot. 

“Oh my–” your back arches at the feeling, “God Yunnie, I feel so f-full.” 

“You’re doing so well baby,” he praises you again, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. “Look at you, so beautiful taking my cock.” 

“I need you to fuck me,” you scramble to grip his forearms, feeling the taut muscles under his skin. “Please,” you wriggle your hips beneath him, “move,” 

“Mm,” he pulls out almost completely, just the tip of his cock resting inside of you, “say it again, sweetheart,” 

“Fuck me Yunnie, please,” you beg, trying to push your hips down on his cock. 

“God, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that, I’ll never get tired of it” he slams into you, and you cry out as he bottoms out inside of you again. He sets a steady pace, rolling his hips into you over and over, the feeling of him pumping in and out of you more delicious than you could’ve ever imagined. He kisses you hard, licking into your mouth, swallowing all of your pretty little moans. 

He cups one of your breasts in his wide palm, running his thumb over your nipple, stoking the fire in the pit of your belly. He straightens, admiring how beautiful you look while you take him. Your lips red and puffy, your eyes half lidded, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“So pretty, taking me so well,” he praises you as his hand coasts up your chest, fingers gently wrapping around your neck. He holds his hand there for a moment, making a mental note of the way your eyes light up when he briefly squeezes the column of your throat. 

“F-feels so g-good,” you choke out between thrusts. His thumb slides along your jaw toward your chin, prodding at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. You wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it briefly before he pops it out of your mouth, trailing it down your body until he reaches your clit. The contact has your head spinning, the cord in your center tightening and tightening as he flicks your sensitive bud. 

“Baby, look,” his voice cuts through the foggy lust in your head, grabbing your attention. He nods down to where your bodies are connected, gesturing for you to take a glance. 

One look at him splitting you open has your climax threatening to wash over you, warmth running up and down your spine at the sight of your arousal shining on his cock as he pistons in and out of your heat relentlessly. He swirls his thumb around your clit faster at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“You close, sweetheart?” He’s breathless as he fucks you, hitting so deep inside you that you can feel it in your stomach. 

“Mhm, fuck, yes,” you cry out, scrambling for his free hand, lacing your fingers between his. 

“Come on, I want to watch you fall apart around my cock.” He’s fucking you impossibly hard, each thrust hitting just right, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Let me feel you, love,” 

“Oh my god,” you stammer out a string of curses as your second orgasm washes over you, your heart thudding in your ears as your body tenses underneath him. He barely slows his pace, keeping his thumb resting on your clit, fucking you through your high. 

“There she is,” he coos, slowing little by little until your body starts to relax. He thrusts all the way inside, bottoming out, collapsing over you. 

“Wow,” you laugh, bringing your hands up to cradle his flushed face. “That was,” 

“Incredible?” He finishes your sentence, kissing your sweaty forehead over and over. You let out a soft moan in agreement, and his cock jumps inside of you at the sound. 

“Mmh,” you whimper, the warmth creeping back into your belly, and you squeeze around Yunho’s cock. 

“Wanting more already?” He teases, pushing his hips against you, thrusting himself in even deeper. 

“Absolutely,” you squeeze around him again, craning your neck up to capture his lips with yours. “Fuck me however you want, baby,” you whisper against his mouth. His cock twitches inside you again and you giggle, waiting for his next move. 

“Flip over,” he pants, “I wanna fuck you like this,” he slips out of you and you whine, feeling empty. He helps you roll onto your belly, kneeling behind you as he pulls your ass in the air and plants a hand in the middle of your back, guiding you to arch for him. You squish your cheek into the mattress, trying to look back at him. “Fucking hell,” he palms your ass with both hands, admiring your delectable form, “you are unreal.” 

“Yun, please, I need you,” you whine as he bends over your body, planting hot, wet kisses up your spine until he reaches the nape of your neck, bringing his lips to your ear. You feel his cock bump against your backside, his body flush against yours.

“You are insatiable, my love,” your heart flutters at the word, but your lust pushes any overanalyzing to the back of your mind in favor of how desperate you are for him. 

You push back into him, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your heat. He straightens at the feeling, rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs as he watches you move. You roll your hips, catching the tip of his cock between your folds, wiggling and rocking to find the right angle before it finally slips inside. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as you push back, taking him deeper and deeper until your ass is flush against him. You start bouncing your hips, taking him in and out, slowly at first, the sounds of his moans filling your ears and soaking your center. 

“Feel good, baby?” You muffle from beneath him, moving your hips quicker with each bounce on his cock. You open your legs a little wider, the new angle rocking his cock against your g-spot. 

“The best thing I’ve ever felt,” he rolls his hips to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the air of his bedroom. “I can’t believe how long we’ve waited for this,” he grips your hips, meeting your thrusts in earnest, fucking into you impossibly deep. You match each other’s pace immediately, moans and whines filling the air. 

He threads his fingers through your hair, tugging you upwards until your body is flush against his, your sweat-slicked bodies rocking together. His hand drops from your hair to wrap around your neck, holding you firmly in place as he threads his other hand between your legs, his middle and ring finger easily finding your swollen clit. 

“I want you like this forever,” he whispers in your ear as he drives into you, your motivation to bounce on him melting into the mattress beneath you. You want him to take you however he wants you, your body molding into his grip. 

“Forever,” you nod as he kisses your neck, “you have me forever Yunnie,” 

“Again,” he groans as you tighten around him, his fingers swirling around your clit, your third orgasm of the night building rapidly low in your belly. “Say it again,” 

“Forever,” you repeat, “I’m yours forever,” 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so close,” he growls into your ear, “you take me so well, like you were made for me,” 

“I was, Yun,” you assure him, “I was made for you,” he rubs your clit faster, “and you were made for me,” 

“God, yes,” he kisses your shoulder, his pace faltering as he gets closer to the edge, “I love you, y/n, fuck.” His fingers swirl around your clit as his hips stutter, spilling hot and fast inside of you. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats over and over as he ruts into you. 

“I love you, Yunho,” you cry out, your heart exploding as your orgasm follows, your body shuddering against him as you come together, your words and his swirling around you in the afterglow. 

He holds you tight against him, guiding your spent form back down to the mattress, kissing every inch of your skin as you both come down from your highs. He slips out of you, lowering your hips, massaging your sore muscles before rolling onto his back next to you. You mimic his position, flipping over so you’re both staring at the ceiling, processing the words you both just confessed. You lay together in silence, the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breath filling the room. You let your eyes close, processing the moment.

“Jeong Yunho,” your voice is hoarse once you speak. “Tell me you love me.” Your eyes flutter open, turning your head to see him already beaming at you. He rolls onto his side, bringing himself nose to nose with you. 

“I love you.” He declares, clear and confident, your heart swelling in your chest. His lips brush over yours, both of you smiling as he kisses you softly. “Your turn,” he whispers. You copy him, rolling onto your side, brushing his sweat slicked hair from his forehead as he throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you,” you giggle, kissing him again. 

“One more time?” 

“I, love, you,” you emphasize each word with a gentle kiss on his lips, 

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he whispers. “Let’s go get cleaned up.” 

You whine in protest, but Yunho eventually gets you into the bathroom, running a hot shower for the both of you. You wash up together, hardly able to keep your hands off of each other. Once you’ve fallen apart in his hands twice more and the water’s run cold, he helps you into a pair of his boxers and his biggest, softest sweatshirt. 

“This feels like a dream,” you think out loud once you’re snuggled up in Yunho’s bed together. “Is this a dream?” 

“If it is, I never want to wake up,” he smiles at you under the dim street lights flooding through his windows. “This is all I need, forever.” 

You kiss him at that, soft and tender, his arms wrapping tighter around you, holding you close. You fall asleep shortly after, nose to nose, hearts full. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You wake to the morning sun shining through Yunho’s bedroom windows, the sweet smell of vanilla flooding your nose. Stretching your tired limbs, you roll over to find the other side of the bed empty. Panic floods your mind at the sight, your past making you assume the worst. Is he sleeping on the couch? You wonder. Does he regret what he said and now he’s avoiding me? Before you can reason with yourself, you jump out of bed and speed walk down the hallway, stopping dead in your tracks when you reach the kitchen. 

“You’re not freaking out, are you y/n?” Yunho drawls, his voice still laced with sleep, low and raspy. He hasn’t even looked at you yet, his focus being on the plate on the counter in front of him, but he already knows where your mind is at just by the sound of your footsteps coming down the hallway. Of course he does. His bare, wide shoulders shake as he laughs to himself. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, the muscles in his back moving beneath his skin as he throws the final touches on what’s in front of him. He spins around to face you holding a plate of pancakes, littered with strawberries cut into hearts. Your heart flutters at the scene in front of you. “You think I’m gonna make love to you, tell you that I love you, and not make you breakfast in the morning?” 

Suddenly feeling self conscious over your immediate assumption that he regretted your night together, you cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “I got scared,” you whisper. 

“That I left you in my apartment all alone? Baby,” he puts the plate down, “I would never, especially after last night,” he crosses the kitchen to reach you, pulling you into his warm embrace, his hot skin beneath you melting away the coldness you felt from waking up alone. “I’m not like…him,” he reminds you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You are safe with me. Safe, loved, protected, respected, I could go on and on. Do you understand me?” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

You nod against his chest. “I do,” you feel a tear slide down your cheek, spreading from your skin, onto his. He squeezes you in a tight hug. 

“Come on, let’s get some food in your system. You haven’t eaten since our pastries at Blossom last night,” he releases you to grab your plate, as well as a second he made for himself, and drops another quick kiss to your forehead before carrying them to the coffee table in his living room. 

“Come sit,” he beckons you, and you follow automatically, plopping on the couch. He grabs your favorite throw blanket before sitting down next to you, draping it over both of your laps. No matter how hard you try to ignore them, negative thoughts are still plaguing your mind. You both pick up your plates, eating in silence for a few moments before Yunho speaks up again. 

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” His tone is so sincere, you immediately feel guilty for making him worry. 

“I’m just–” you hesitate for a moment. “I’m scared it’s too good to be true.” 

“What is? Us?” Worry flickers across his features, his heart aching seeing you so distraught. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, poking at one of your pancakes with your fork. You know you’re being unreasonable, and that Yunho has shown you nothing but love and commitment as long as you’ve known him. But your self doubt and your history of awful relationships is screaming at you that you don’t deserve him. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even realize that you’re crying. 

Yunho gently takes your plate from your hands, putting both his and yours back on the coffee table. He shifts his body slowly until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, resting his hands on your blanket-covered thighs.

“Y/n, look at me,” he pleads. You wipe the tears from your cheeks, patting the dampness into the blanket in your lap. You rest your hands on top of his, tracing the lines of his veins for a moment before dragging your gaze upwards to meet his. His eyes are glazed over with tears of his own. 

“Yunnie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I–”

“Listen to me,” he interrupts. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The most precious thing in this world to me. Each moment that I spend with you fills me with a joy that I never experienced until I met you.” He turns his hands over to cradle yours as his tears finally fall down his cheeks. “I love you. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to you. And proving to you that you deserve the love that I give you.” 

You stifle a sob at his words, trying to take all of it in as the beautiful truth. You know he means it, he’s always meant every word he’s ever said to you, and you know you need to silence your anxieties in favor of what you know to be true. 

“It’s gonna take time,” you whisper. “It’ll take time for me to believe that I deserve what you give me,” you wipe your own tears, then his, both of you laughing breathlessly at your own emotions. “But I will get there,” you continue, “I just need you to be patient with me.” 

“Of course. I will spend the rest of my life reminding you what you deserve, sweetheart. That’s a promise.” 

“I love you.” You cradle his head in your hands, memorizing every inch of his face, savoring the first day of the rest of your lives.

“I love you,” he kisses the tip of your nose. “Let’s go finish our breakfast in bed.” 

“Okay,” you giggle watching Yunho jump up to grab both your plates, giddily walking toward his bedroom with a wide smile on his face. 

“You coming?” He glances over his shoulder at you, his ears blushing bright red as he waits for you. 

You nod, hopping up to follow after him, to your new forever.

[reignpage]

Dog-Eat-Dog World

Synopsis: what life is like with Siberian husky hybrid!Gojo Warnings: 18+ mdni, porn with a little plot, fluffy, cursing, dubcon, established relationship, cunnilingus, blowjob, 69, boobjob, rimming, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, switch!Gojo, backshots, spitting, mention of somnophilia, possessiveness, creampie, knotting, not proofread Word Count: 4.9k

Dating Husky!Gojo means there are rarely ever any quiet moments. He talks a lot. In fact, he never seems to stop. He could talk your ear off about anything. And he certainly does try. 

“Y’know, squirrels can be categorised into three types. There are ground squirrels, tree squirrels and flying squirrels. Have you ever seen a flying squirrel? I saw one once and it was so ugly. It had these weird flaps and they look like little rats with wings. Tree squirrels are pretty common. You see them all the time, right? Yeah, there’s no way you’ve never seen a tree squirrel; they’re everywhere.”

Sighing, you ruffle his hair as he lies on your lap, staring up at you with those big blue eyes. Eyes fluttering close, he makes a low growl of appreciation, tilting his head so you can get to that spot by his erect ear that makes his leg twitch. 

“Hmm, I love when you scratch me there. You do it really well, y’know? Like, really really well. No one scratches better than you. I’ve tried myself but it’s never the same.” He barks a sudden laugh. “It kinda sounds like I’m talking about something else, doesn’t it?”

Something on the TV catches his attention and he tenses up, head tilting and ears flickering to focus all his energy on the curiosity on screen. But then your nails scrape his scalp, and his eyes are rolling back. He falls down onto your lap and gives you a lopsided grin. 

“Sorry. What was I saying? Oh, right. You scratch so good. You could scratch me all day and I wouldn’t ever ask you to stop. If you scratched me for the rest of my life, I would never get bored. Do you want to test that out?”

With a soft smile, you reply, “I don’t think that’s possible, Toru. I have to work, and I can’t take you with me, can I?”

He grumbles, “No, I guess you can’t. But I’m rich. Or rather, my family is, so you don’t have to work anymore, you can just stay with me all day, every day, forever! I get it though, so you don’t need to give me the lecture about independence and the important of keeping busy. I just want to be with you all the time! I hate being alone and waiting for you to come home. You take forever. It’s like a whole eternity passes.”

Husky!Gojo loves being on your lap for reasons other than being able to rest as you give him head scratches. No, he likes how close he is to the source of the best smell he’s ever smelt in his entire life. He loves it so much, sometimes he focuses more on the apex of your thighs than whatever’s playing on the TV. 

He shifts his head so he can press his nose right there, burying deeper until he can take long inhales and let your scent engulf his very being. His ears are perked up and his tail is wagging excitedly. 

“Satoru, what are you doing?”

He whines at the strict tone of your voice, and with guilty eyes he peers up at you, wincing once he sees your raised brow. His ears lie flat, tail slowing to a halt, and he stretches his neck ever so slightly to bare more of that long length. 

“It’s not my fault,” he mutters. “You just smell so nice. Can’t I just sniff you for a little longer? I won’t go further, I swear!”

You roll your eyes. You know if you don’t give in now then he’ll badger you relentlessly until you eventually do. Plus, it’s not as if you were impervious to the pressure of his nose against your clit, through your shorts. 

And when you shift under his head, he knows he’s won. 

In a clumsy flurry, he’s flying off the sofa, kneeling between your legs and gripping onto the plush of your thighs to spread them. When he sees that wet spot he’s been manifesting, his ears perk up once more and you can hear the way his tail is swishing on the cold floor. 

“You always play hard to get and yet we always end up just like this,” he growls, amusement sparkling in his sky-blue eyes. Then, he dives in, using his paws to tear apart your shorts and panties in one swift move. His long, slobbery tongue lolls out and he’s licking from quivering hole to twitching clit. Your hips jolt. “Oh, you taste so good. I love you so much. God, I missed your pussy. It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve gotten to say hello.”

It’s embarrassing how wet you got and how quickly, but the way he’s lapping up your juices so eagerly makes you forget all about shame. There are very few things better than the way he lays his tongue flat against your clit, allowing you to hump it for a couple seconds before he gets impatient and rolls the little bud around, loving the way sweat is beading down your thighs, making it difficult to get gripping on your warm flesh. 

“Ngh! Toru!” You exclaim. There’s a delicious tingling emanating from your pussy as he laps your essence repeatedly, desperately, like it’s all he’s ever wanted. “Slow down!”

Husky!Gojo ignores you. Instead, he slides his wet, fat tongue all over your tasty pussy with restless abandon — there’s no rhyme or rhythm, it doesn’t even seem like he cares about your pleasure, he’s only seeking to taste every drop of what you’re willing to give him. 

“I love your pussy so much,” he moans against your slit, the vibrations making your back tense. “I want to stay between your legs forever. Can I? Can I? Please?”

When you don’t reply, too lost in the pleasure, he snorts and spreads your cunt with his fingers instead, needing to feel more of your sloppy pussy. It’s dripping, practically oozing with your juice and he thinks he’s in heaven. He licks and slurps and probes your tight opening with his long tongue, snaking it inside. 

“Wait! Satoru!” You thread your fingers through his fluffy hair, nails scraping against a sensitive spot, and he growls. 

“Hey! No fair! You’re trying to distract me!” His voice is muffled, and his canine accidentally nudges the underside of your clit. You clench down on his tongue, and he gets even more irritated. It’s so unfair how, even without trying, you’re making his cock throb so terribly in his pants. 

Seeking revenge, he rubs your clit, matching the tempo of your moans, rubbing it in furious circles with his thumb. You cum hard. “Oh, Toru! Fuck! Fuck! Soooo goooood!”

You’re creaming down on his tongue and the sweet taste is making him lose his mind. He slurps at your entrance even faster, licking wide and wet strokes all over, even at the creases of your thighs, spreading your juices and his saliva where he can reach, perhaps unknowingly or perhaps because he wants to make you remember how good he made you feel when your thighs stick together.

“That’s enough, Toru! I can’t take anymore!”

Husky!Gojo ignores you again. He’s still licking, alternating between flickering the tip of his tongue on your adorable clit and thrusting it inside your pussy, curling the appendage up at your walls. Your legs are shaking and he’s trying to keep you still, lest you ruin his favourite meal. 

“Oh! Oh! Satoru, fuuuuck!” 

You push away from him, nails digging into the armrest, but he’s still licking at your clamped thighs, skimming along your ass and you practically have to shove at his head. 

Minutes later, when your consciousness returns to you, you dare look at him, still kneeling, tail wagging and with a shameful layer of shiny juice dripping down his chin. He tilts his head tauntingly. A cocky grin on his face, he asks:

“Did I do good?”

Husky!Gojo is very energetic. He loves to go to the park and run wild. Of course, it’s not uncommon to see hybrids like him enjoy nature, but up North, where you’re stuck in a perpetual season of winter, it seems like he’s the only one who prefers to be outside than inside, where it’s warm and cozy. 

For the nth time in a row, you throw the neon yellow tennis ball as far as you can, watching your boyfriend chase after it with excited giggles. He’s a little clumsy, what with his long limbs and tall body, but he’s pretty quick. Following the ball, he snatches it in his hand before he runs back to you, pride glinting in his eyes. 

“Did you see how fast I got that? Wasn’t that faster than last time? Do you think I can go faster? I think I can go faster. No, I definitely can go faster. Watch. Make sure you’re watching, okay?”

You laugh at his serious pout before you throw the ball and watch him leap for it. Despite how cold it is, he never seems to bother with anything more than a hoodie and shorts. Whereas you’re wrapped up in a thick coat, scarf, beanie and gloves, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. You’re slightly jealous of his immunity to the weather but you aren’t of his energy. 

Simply observing his limitless enthusiasm makes you feel sleepy. But your boyfriend needs daily exercise otherwise he moans and groans until it becomes your problem. He needs to run around or else he’s clawing at the walls, pulling at your shirt and whining in your ears. Once, you told him to just go without you, and well let’s just say, you had to make him buy you five new pairs of shoes after his tantrum.

“That’s your boyfriend? He’s an energetic thing, isn’t he?” A man pipes up beside you. 

You hadn’t noticed his approach, but he looks harmless enough. You give him a polite smile. “Yeah, he’s fun.”

“You live around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” 

“Oh, well you know, I’m not very social.”

“My wife’s just like you. She doesn’t like the cold very much and we’ve been having discussions about going down South, for the kids. That’s them over there.” Just as he points out, there are children playing tag with your boyfriend, giggling with him as he playfully pretends, they’re too fast for him. “My only concern is, the South isn’t as accepting of hybrids as here. And I don’t want my kids to face any kind of trouble.”

Giving him a sympathetic smile, you can’t say much more. Whilst there are laws protecting hybrids and most people are generally very accepting, there are still close-minded individuals who make life difficult for anyone who’s different. You wonder when that will change. 

“Who are you?”

Satoru has returned, tennis ball being squeezed in his hand as he eyes the stranger. He sniffs the air, assessing whether he’s a threat or not. His ears are pricked forward and tense, as is the rest of his body. He’s ready to attack. 

“He’s just a neighbour.” You give the nice stranger an apology, appreciating the understanding nod he gives you, before you pull your boyfriend away. 

Husky!Gojo is quiet the walk back home. He doesn’t say a word even as you attempt conversation, doesn’t react when you pat him on the back, not even when you tell him you’ll let him do karaoke as loud as he wants; he can be very petulant when he wants to be. 

But once inside, the door clicking into place, he pounces on you. He buries his face into your neck and makes a disgusted sound at the back of his throat.

“You smell like him. I hate it.”

He doesn’t waste any time in tearing off your clothes, even as you’re lying on the cold, hard floor naked. You know better than to argue when he gets in these moods — he needs to feel safe again, and you’ll let him do whatever it takes to do so. 

Fishing his already hard cock out, you’re amazed to find him red and leaking; he must have been imagining all the ways he could re-mark his territory on the way back. 

“I hate sharing you with anyone else,” he mumbles, giving himself one, two, jerks before he’s inching forward to lay the hot and heavy thing between your tits. He likes the sight of his almost transparent cum already wetting your skin, the way your nipples are pebbled and you’re completely at his mercy. “You’ll take care of me, won’t you? You’re the best owner, right? You’re not going to abandon me like this?”

“Of course not, Toru. Take what you want, sweetheart. Make me yours.”

Satoru growls, baring his sparkling white teeth before he paws at your tits, pushing them together so his cock is squeezed perfectly between them. He moans at the softness, thumb flicking your nipple like he can’t help himself. 

He makes quick, shallow thrusts, and you kind of hate how he’s fully clothed — you can’t see the way his abs tense, whereas he can see every part of your body. Somehow, that makes you feel tingly down there. 

His salty scent fills the hot air between you, and when you look down your chest, the sight of his red, hot cock disappearing and appearing between your tits elicits a moan from you. The slit is constantly leaking searing cum which he uses to slide better. In a teasing mood, you stretch your tongue out and poke at it when he emerges.

“Ngh! More! Lick me more!” He orders.

Head thrown back, he’s squeezing your breasts harder together, pinching your nipples sporadically. You obey him just this once, puckering your lips so you can suckle at the head when it nears your face. The salty liquid is strong, and you don’t have to touch your pussy to know you’re leaking just as much as he is. 

“You’re mine. Say it! Baby, I need you to say it. Please? Oh, fuck! I don’t want to cum until you say it.”

Amused, you throw him a bone, suckling particularly hard, right before you say, “I’m yours always, forever, Satoru.”

He cums pretty quickly after that. Hot spurts of that almost clear cum paints your face in streaks, dripping down your cheeks onto the floor. It’s going to be a pain to clean but neither of you care. Satoru heaves above you, flicking your nipples as his way of saying ‘thank you’.

The sight of your face and chest covered in his cum quickly hardens his softening cock once more and he grins at you. “I can smell how wet you are, sweet cheeks. You’re making a puddle on the floor. Now, who’s the messy one? Guess, I’ll have to take one for the team and get started on cleaning, yeah?”

Husky!Gojo likes to sixth-nine. There’s something about giving and receiving pleasure simultaneously that has his tail wagging.

Spinning around, he dives his face into your pussy, bending your legs back so he can have full access to everything. He’s slurping again -- he really does love to make that noise. Annoyingly, he begins motorboating your pussy, flicking his head side to side in a rapid pace just because he can. 

You can’t let him have all the fun. 

So, when he dangles his cock over your lips, smearing his salty cum all over it, you don’t hesitate to suck him in, relaxing your throat so he can push in further whilst you fondle his balls. Already, there’s a hard knot forming at the base of his cock. You’ve grown very familiar with it. Circling your tongue around Satoru’s flared, tapered tip, you also run a teasing finger along the knot. 

He thrusts down your throat and sucks at your clit harder. You both moan together. His tail is tickling your forehead as he waggles it in the air with frantic shakes like he doesn’t even realise he has such a big tell, revealing how he’s feeling at every given moment.

Cupping his heavy balls, you massage the warm sacks, imagining all the cum he’s got stored for you. Satoru makes small, humping motions, abandoning your cunt as he chases his pleasure. It’s all too much for him. Your mouth is so steamy, so tightyou’re your scent is attacking his senses. And just as your finger wanders upwards, beyond his knot and his balls, and to that puckered hole, just skimming the edge, he cums in your mouth, spraying down your throat with his salty essence.

“No! T-that’s so unfair! Y-you can’t just do that without -ngh- giving me a heads up,” he complains through his orgasm.

Soon after, he makes you cum on his tongue. He lapped up your dripping pussy, digging deep to taste all of your cream, and thumbing at your clit the way that you like as he stretched out your pussy with his tongue. And when, he too ventured beyond, tongue sliding down your slit and to your puckered hole, your legs wrapped around his head. 

“Satoru!”

“Not so fun now, is it?” He tried to taunt, but he was distracted by the taste of you. “Why haven’t I done this sooner? Ugh, you’re always so mean, keeping things away from me. Hope you learn your lesson, you mean baby.”

He inched his way in ever so slightly, rubbing incessant circles around your clit, and growling at the splash of cum he felt all over his face as you fell victim to his need to even the scales. 

Lying in a heap of sweaty bodies, heavy limbs, and mixed juices, he holds you in his arms, face buried in your neck as he rumbles, satisfied that you smell like him and only him. 

“I hate that park now. Let’s never go there again.”

“Whatever you say, Toru.”

Husky!Gojo is a pain in the ass. He follows you around everywhere and he doesn’t understand boundaries. 

When you get up from the sofa to go to the kitchen, he’s right behind you. He doesn’t even need anything, not a cup of water or a snack. He’s pressed so closely to your back, he becomes your shadow.

Even when you leave the bed in the middle of the night to pee, you don’t need to look up to know he’s standing in the threshold, sleepy eyes squinting at the bright lights, and fuzzy tail swishing lazily behind him. 

“Hurry back,” he demands. “I’m sleepy.”

“Then go to sleep, Satoru. There’s no need to follow me.”

He pouts at that, ears lying flat. And then he’s whimpering. It’s high-pitched and annoying and he knows it. He does it on purpose, knowing that you can’t stand the noise, and it’ll make you rush to get back into bed after washing your hands. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t be a dick.”

Satoru always gets what he wants.

Then, once you’re settled, he’s throwing himself over you, pinning you to the bed and acting as if he can’t hear your muffled complaints. He does it mostly because he wants to keep you close, because he loves the feel of your softness lulling him to sleep. But he also does it to make sure you can’t escape again. 

“Night night!”

Husky!Gojo is a hungry little thing. He’s never satisfied with his own food. No, he scarfs his plate down and then eyes yours. On his face is an expression of complete innocence but you know better. 

“No, Satoru. This is my food.”

Tilting his head, he blinks at you, confused. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” you counter. 

He laughs. “You’re always so suspicious. I’m just watching you eat because I love everything about you. Can’t I do that? Is it not a free country anymore?”

Sighing, you stop arguing with him, but when a noise behind catches your attention, you make the mistake of looking back. You don’t hear him move but you know he has. So, when you hesitantly turn back around, you’re not surprised to find your plate empty and he’s sporting a lopsided grin, full of pride and amusement.

“I’m going to kill you,” you threaten. 

Satoru laughs again.

Husky!Gojo has very keen senses. He can hear when you’re coming back home before you even show up at the door. He can sniff out where your keys are, where you’ve left your phone, and somehow know when it’s going to rain. He can hear higher pitches than you, and he makes fun of you for it. 

“You can’t hear that? Seriously, it’s so loud. Are you messing with me? Baby, are you? Because there’s no way you can’t hear that. Should we go to the doctors? I’m worried for you.”

More often than not, he’s deathly serious, and he’s so concerned over your weak senses, as if one day they’ll be the death of you. But once in a while, when you catch him biting back a smirk at your furrowed brows and straining ears, you know he got you. 

“Ow! Ow! You’re so aggressive when you’re being teased. Yeah, okay, I admit, that was a lie. There’s no sound. But there could have been, and you wouldn’t have heard it with your tiny little human ears. Oh, you’re so cute!”

Husky!Gojo has a sixth sense for when you’re extra needy. He can tell when you’re ovulating and it’s embarrassing. He knows before you do. Every time. 

Just lounging casually on the sofa, a peaceful calm blankets over you, watching the snow fall from the sky outside. You’re scrolling on your phone, failing to notice, until it’s too late, his approach. His ears and nose are twitching and he’s eyeing your crotch like it’s a curious thing. He creeps up your legs, firm hands kneading your thighs in what seems like a simple massage before his face is burrowing itself in your pussy. 

“Satoru! What on Earth are you doing?”

He peers up at you like it’s obvious. Taking a deep whiff, he nods like there’s no doubt about it. “You’re ovulating.”

“So?”

Rolling his eyes, he explains, “So, you’re going to need my services to satisfy this hungry cunt.”

Spluttering about his silly logic, you’re powerless against his determined hands, pulling down your pyjama bottoms until you’re bare for him. And then he’s eating you out once more. 

He really loves to do that. He does it whenever he wants — when you’ve just gotten back from work, fresh from the shower, whilst you’re cooking, and even when you’re sleeping. Sometimes he does it not to make you cum but just to taste you, like it’s his favourite pastime.

Suffice to say, it’s no challenge for him to make you cum within minutes, leaving you a sticky mess beneath him. And when your pussy have been stretched enough on his fingers and his tongue, he finds no issue sliding inside whilst you’re barely conscious and having no energy to remind him to wear a condom. 

Husky!Gojo hates those things. 

Once Satoru feels your warm walls, his instincts take over. He drives his cock inside, spearing you. It’s stealing your breath, the stretch making your jaw drop and he licks your lips in an apology for the sudden pain. 

“Aw, baby. I’m sorry. Take deep breaths, okay. Then it’ll feel good again. It’s alright. Toru’s got you.”

The pain’s receding and pure pleasure is washing over you instead. Satoru is giving you the fucking of your life, and maybe this ovulation period really is making your cunt hungrier than usual, because you quickly wrap around your legs around him, pulling him deeper. 

He makes a low noise of approval. “That’s right, sweet thing. You’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?”

You can feel his cock head rubbing against that spongy spot, you’re left reeling, making desperate gasps for air, and he’s grinning at you. He thinks it’s hilarious how reluctant you were before but now all you can think about is cock. His cock and how he’s making you feel so good. 

Satoru can’t decide between staring at your bouncing breasts or the way your pussy is sucking him in, leaving his cock shiny with your juices. Your clit is exposed, and, without much thought, he spits a fat glob onto it, watching the way it twitches so adorably. 

Then, as if he’s tired of foreplay, he tears off your clinging limbs and spins you around, wrangling you into his favourite position. Now, you’re on your knees, a hand on your back forcing you down into an almost painful arch. This way he can see everything and when he slides back in, he swears he goes even deeper, his tip kissing your cervix when he bottoms out. 

“Oh, Toru! Too deep! I c-can’t.”

He shushes you. “You can and you will. You have before, remember, baby? You love it when I fuck you from behind, don’t you?”

Soon, his relentless pummelling begins again, his heavy balls smacking against your clit, setting your nerves alight. He reaches below, one hand pressing down on that bulge in your lower stomach and the other twisting a nipple between his fingers. Satoru sees the light sheen of sweat on your back and he licks a stripe up your spine. 

“Every part of you tastes so good. How is that even -ha- possible?” He growls. 

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Instead, you beg, “Harder, Toru! Fuck me harder!”

And so, he does, he drills his pulsing cock inside, rubbing your clit as he pounds you over and over again, forcing your body to dive forward on the sofa, head hanging over the armrest. He’s stretching you out so much you almost can’t believe that he’s really in there, so when you examine your poor, sloppy pussy with your fingers, you can only whimper when you feel his cock undeniably hammering inside. 

“Told you this pussy’s gonna -ha- want me to fill her up. Now, who looks silly?”

You also feel the knot making its way in deeper with every thrust and you’re scared. How you manage to take it in every time is beyond you.

You forcibly cum — there’s no way you can’t, not when he’s meeting every sensitive spot inside and outside of your pussy, not when his delirious moans and groans is filling your head like a drug. Through your orgasm, he fucks you like you’re nothing but a wet hole, degrading and humiliating you for his own pleasure. 

“Satoru! No more! I can’t take anymore!”

“Nah, just a little -ha- more, baby, please? Take it all for me, okay? I need -ngh- you to take it all. Can’t be that -oh- hard if you’ve done it so many times before, can it?” He laughs, breathy and strained.

Your orgasm sparked in your womb, flaring out to your clit and your tits until your legs begin to tremble and you’re a shaking mess beneath him. And just as you’re about to give out, he holds your hips steady and slams his entire length inside of you, shoving that fat knot in and you’ve never felt so full.

“Fuck! You’re so tight. Oh God, I love you so much. I love you I love you I love you!”

His cum sprays inside of you, cock throbbing along with the pulsing clenches of your walls. His knot swells up, ballooning and stretching you out even more. Your pussy spams as he fills your womb with his cum. There’s so much of it and as he plugs you in, you can’t imagine there’s any space left inside of you. 

“Tell me I’m a good boy, baby please. Tell me I’m fucking you good. Please, I need it!”

Groggily, you managed to say a muffled, “You’re such a good boy, Toru. Always so good for me. My best boy.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” He whimpers. He’s not even talking to you, you’re pretty sure. He has a tendency to get so lost in the pleasure he genuinely believes you and your pussy are separate entities. “I love you so much. God, I want to stay inside forever.”

Husky!Gojo slumps against you, pinning you down again. You’re still skewered on his long, fat cock, the knot there keeping you joined for what feels like forever. Both of your bodies are sticky with sweat and mixed juices. But he doesn’t care, in fact, he loves it. He’s making lazy swipes of your neck and your face with his tongue. 

“Was I good? Did I do good?”

You wind an arm back, seeking out his fluffy hair, and once you feel its softness, you scratch him behind his ear, hearing his tail whack the sofa in rapid pats. “Yes, Toru, you were good.”

He huffs proudly at that. 

You’re still trying to catch your breath, trying to reorient yourself, and in the distance, you can feel the soreness that will creep in, but you don’t mind it. It’s hard to care when Satoru feels so warm and strong over you, encasing you in his love to shelter you from the cold as you both watch the snow continue to fall through the steam fogging up the glass. 

“We’ve got probably around twenty minutes before this thing goes down,” he mutters. “Wanna play I spy?”

[mysticlael]

Bat inco quotes

Roy, in Jason’s bed: Morning… how’d ya sleep last night? Jason, knocking Roy off: WHAT THE HELL?! Roy: Ow— Jason: What were you doing in my bed? You were supposed to sleep on the air mattress on the floor! Roy: I had a nightmare. Jason: You had a nightmare? What are you, five years old? Roy: Listen, I needed to feel comfortable and I was getting this perverse power dynamic vibe from me sleeping on the floor and you sleeping up there- Jason, in a royal accent: Why yes, how high and mighty I am up on my twin XL! Roy: That is not what I meant— Jason: Silence in the presence of your king, who sleeps a lofty twelve and a half inches above the ground! Roy: Listen, I’m not ashamed. I slept comfortably when I got up on your bed and I’m sure you did too. Jason: Yeah, okay- Roy: You know what? I wanna know. How’d you sleep last night? Jason: …That was the best I’ve slept in a while. Roy, gasping: The king slept comfortably with a peasant in his bed! Jason: I did not consent to this- Roy, dramatically: But my liege, our love is forbidden! Jason, on the phone: Hi, is this the front desk? Yeah, there’s a bed bug in my room and he’s five-foot-eleven, he’s got red hair- Roy: Ask them if they have one of those “Do Not Disturb” signs. I’ll put it on the door next time we… do it. Jason: Okay, I'ma go shower and wash all of the you off of me. Roy: Oh, maybe together we could— Jason: NO. Roy: Just to save water— Jason: No! You don’t even pay for the water! Roy: …Good point.

Steph: *Texts a selfie to the group chat* Hey besties!! Jason: *Texts a selfie clearly parodying Steph's* hey besties !!1! Steph: I literally hate you so much.

Dick, holding a box of Lunchables: Ah, I loved these when I was your age… fine dining. Damian: Fix yourself.

Tim: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Steph: 'Prettiest Smile' Dick: 'Nicest Personality' Jason: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Cass: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Steph: Today at 7 am, Tim poured a Monster energy drink in their coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing. Dick: I watched Tim brew their coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think they ascended into the astral realm. Damian: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me.

Damian, carrying a box: What would you say if- if I, hypothetically, came home with 7 kittens one day? Bruce: … Bruce: What’s in the box? Damian: What woul- Bruce: Damian, what’s in the box? Damian: I think you know.

Bruce: Did you buy eggs like I asked? Damian: Even better! Bruce: What the fuck did you- Damian: *holding up a chicken* Her name is Fluffy.

Tim: What are we gonna do?! Jason: Blame you?

*Dick comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Barbara’s bedroom.* Barbara: Dick, are you.. coming to bed? Dick: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend. Dick: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep* Barbara: ...

Roy: sapnu puaS. Kori: What?? Jason: What language is that? Roy: Turn your phone 180 degrees. *Roy was removed from the groupchat*

Kon, admiring a sleeping Tim: You’re so cute. Tim, sleepily: I could beat your ass. Kon, lovingly: I know.

Duke: How do those little boys on XBOX parties always know what slur to call you? Tim: They're empaths.

Steph: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute. Dick: No, that's not how you make cookies. Duke: FLOOR IT!! Jason: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!? Damian: YOU'RE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN- Steph: I'M GONNA HARNESS THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES! Tim: DO IT! Bruce: NO-

Tim, at Kon: Would you like to stay for dinner? Bernard, from the kitchen: Would you like to stay forever!?!

Damian: What the fuck is with english teachers and being like; "write a story about a deep and personal memory that impacted your life". Ma'am, if I do that you're going to send me to the counselor's office.

[cillivnz]

RING-POP

PAIRING. sam monroe x f!reader

SYNOPSIS. sam makes you try a different version of your favorite candy; bigger and bitter.

WARNINGS. NSFW themes (18+), pet-names, cursing, dirty-talk & too many puns (i swear this punk cannot shut up), name-calling (brat, dumb girl), brat-taming, degradation, slight dacryphilia, perv!sam, clueless!reader, oral sex (m! receiving), face-fucking, bondage, slight slapping (with a belt, with his cock), hair-pulling, sexualising food?

SMACK, SLURP, POP. the sounds filled sam’s humid room. his brow furrowed further, a look of disdain washing over his pale features at the noise. the videogame in front of him needed all his heed, but it seemed like his brat, bambi, demanded some of that attention, too.

“stop that,” he groaned, frustrated. the sound of his thumbs assaulting the buttons on his controller should’ve been all that was heard, had you not been deep-throating the candy sam made the mistake of getting you. “what— i’m just having my candy,” you whined before continuing, “—and besides, if you have a problem, why don’t you let me sit away from you—” he was quick to shut down that idea, gripping the flesh of your thighs. maybe sam was in the wrong for getting you the cherry ring-pop, your favourite, and maybe it wasn’t the best idea to have you perched on his lap, sitting comfortably (cluelessly) on his aching boner, but in his defence, he just wanted to feast his eyes on the sight of your plump lips wrapped around the toy candy, sucking and slurping, just as you are now like the good girl you are, but once he switched his playstation on, the competitive side came out.

you shift to your comfort in his lap, feeling the tent in his pants poke directly into your mound. you had an arm crossed over sam’s neck, bringing the ring-clad finger to your mouth and sucking. at the taste of the sweet cherry juices dripping into your mouth, you groan in sam’s ear.

the sounds traveled straight to his cock, his mind tuning out his reality— the game at hand— just to focus at your skilful tongue, stained red by the candy. “if you don’t quit it—” he sighed, his voice strained. the next thing you know, his character is being obliterated by the enemy. you stifled a giggle, your plan worked.

sam had left you so, so worked up. choosing to take out his frustration with his family on some stupid toy, rather than your willing pussy. ever since that day at the playground, you couldn’t go a day without sam pounding into your drooling cunt. even if it was always him starting it, he got you to finish, and you were forever grateful for it. but today? when you dolled up in all black— tank top and skirt— with red lingerie, he decided to pick up that gaming console and not let go.

“alright, bambi, i’ve had it with you,” he gets up abruptly, causing you to hit the ground and land on your knees. you gasped, offended.

his hands, full of real, crude metal were quick to move, undoing his belt, unlike your delicate hand that was motionless with the toy ring perched on it. the leather of his studded belt flicked across your cheek, causing you to look up at sam through wet lashes. he only smirked at the sight. your eyes flicked to the bulge revealed in his boxers, and now your mouth watered for a taste that wasn’t cherry ring-pop.

“‘like to suck your candy, huh, brat?” he squeezed your cheeks together. “since you’ve been practising in my goddamn ears all day,” he continued, pulling out his cock, “let’s see how good you’ve gotten.” his cock was slapped against the same spot at the belt. you only stared at him through your long lashes, unwilling to satiate when you’re unsatisfied yourself. “come on, bambi, open up,” he squeezed your cheeks again, causing your mouth to gape open. “i can’t guarantee it tastes like cherries, but you’re open to trying sweet-n-salty, aren’tcha?” he giggled, amused at his own snarky comments.

the fat tip of his cock pressed into your plump, gape lips, and instinctively, your tongue stuck out to lick it. “there we go,” sam sighed, ready to return to cloud 9.

you sheepishly swirled your tongue around the bulbous tip of his cock, relishing in the taste of his precum oozing into your tastebuds. oh, yeah, you’ve found yourself a new favourite flavour.

“hands up for me, bambi,” he sighed, breathless already. you oblige, eyes widening when his belt snaked over your wrists, tying them in an unholy matrimony. your hands rested in your lap, preventing you from pleasuring yourself like you intended to. “now, open wide f’me.” you’re obedient, eager to please, for you know if sam’s satisfied he would overlook the ‘punishment’ and stick his cock into you. your pussy flutters at the thought of being full again.

as your throat relaxed around him, you started taking more and more of his length, looking up at him through your lashes to seek his validation, and the mere sight was rewarding. his brows furrowed, a pink flush crept into his pale skin, while his lips were plump and agape, marks of his teeth etched into the skin. “your mouth was made to suck cock, y’know that— my cock. you’re only gonna squeeze my cock with that fuckin’ throat, y’hear?” he nods, authoritative yet cooing, “is my girl understanding me?” so you bobble your head along with length. “fuck yeah, brat. going dumb on my cock,” he moans, and you were eager to illicit more of those sounds.

you relax your jaw, inhale deeply, and let him take charge. when sam realises this, the little devil smirks, running his fingers through your scalp to tug at your hair.

his cock pistons in and out of your throat, your eyes watering and your breath haggard. your pussy clenched around nothing but the flooded dampness of your cotton panties.

“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fu—” incoherent grunts and groans filled the room along with the delirious smell of your arousals. “fuuuuck, bambi,” sam’s thrusts got sloppier.

“you know,” he spoke, breathless yet mischievously, “this candy comes with a creamy centre,” he chuckled, grunting as he came undone in your mouth. “sweet n’ salty, yeah?” he stroked his cock, relishing in the sight of his heavy load dripping down your plump lips. you were quick to swallow every drop, selfishly devouring your favourite candy. you wondered if this was gluttony or lust?

when satiated, sam pulled away, tucking his cock away. you, too, get up from the floor, wincing at the pain of kneeling down for too long.

you shimmy out of your clothes, making your way towards his bed. sam sees you in the corner of his eye, an eyebrow irking at your actions, “what do you think you’re doing,” he asked plainly, leaving you confused. “i- you’re fucking me, right?” you had a pitiful look on your face, so eager to chase your own release with his assistance. “like hell i will, dumb girl,” sam scoffed, “brats don’t get pleasure after punishment,” he shrugged coldly, grabbing his gaming console.

he pointed towards his thighs, “sit your ass back down,” you whine, “but i’ll be so boooored,” yet perch on his lap, still.

“—and i finished my ring-pop,” you sigh in frustration. sam chuckles, “don’t worry, i’ll have your new favourite out in a minute,”

“this flavour never finishes, just keeps on coming.”

THIS PUNK—

SEE ALSO. playground [PRELIMINARY FIC]. more of Sam Monroe [MEAN!SAM, BIMBO!READER AND OTHER TROPES].

[meleeyz]

┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘!𝗘𝗞𝗞𝗢 𝗪𝗘𝗗𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦 ꒱

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ These are headcanons of the other Ekko, before the canon Ekko from the show "takes" his place… I hope you understand...

୨୧ I'm still writing for the fic, but the last chapters is taking longer than I thought, I hope you understand, in the meantime I have some things in drafts that I will publish so you don't run out of content.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

another universe!ekko who was really nervous about proposing to you knowing how big of a step that is...

Ekko had always been a confident guy. He was innovator, someone who could fix almost anything. But when it came to you, he found himself feeling like a bumbling preteenager all over again. He wanted everything to be perfect—down to the handmade ring he was crafting for the proposal. Using scraps of precious metals and stones he collected over the years, he poured hours of focus into shaping it into something that represented your story together. Benzo would catch him hunched over his workstation at odd hours, muttering about the alignment or polish. "You know, kid, it’s not like she’s gonna turn you down if it’s a millimeter off," Benzo teased, ruffling Ekko’s hair. Ekko would just grin sheepishly but double his efforts anyway.

another universe!ekko who practiced his proposal speech a dozen times, only to get caught mid-rehearsal...

He was standing in the middle of The Last Drop, the roof their unofficial safe haven for years. “So, um, I’ve been thinking…” he started, pacing back and forth. “No, no, that sounds dumb. Okay—‘you’re the light of my life, and I can’t imagine—’ ugh, that’s so cheesy.” Behind him, Powder crept up the stairs, barely containing her giggles. “Keep going,” she whispered, trying not to laugh. Ekko whipped around, his face flaming red. “How long have you been there?!” “Long enough to know you’re terrible at this,” she teased, doubling over with laughter. “You’re lucky she already loves you.”

another universe!ekko who had no idea you were planning your own big announcement...

While Ekko was caught up in his grand proposal plans, you were busy with plans of your own. The test results sat folded in your pocket for days, and your hands hovered over them more times than you could count. You were going to be a mother. It was Powder who figured it out first, being too observant for her own good. “You’ve been glowing,” she said one afternoon while helping you sort supplies at the community center. “Also, you cried over Mylo spilling coffee, so I kinda put two and two together.” You blinked at her, stunned. “Powder, you cannot tell anyone yet!” She held up her hands. “Cross my heart! But seriously, I’m gonna be the best godmother ever!” You couldn’t help but laugh, though your nerves stayed. You wondered how Ekko would react, if he’d be overwhelmed or excited—or both.

another universe!ekko who proposed on the roof of the last drop, the place where your story began...

Ekko had chosen the roof where he had first kissed you as the spot to ask you to be his forever. He had strung up soft, glowing lights and set up a little table with flowers and your favorite dessert. When you stepped onto the roof and saw him standing there, his hands fidgeting nervously as he smiled at you, your heart swelled with affection. He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. "So, uh… I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time." You stepped closer, your smile encouraging him to continue. "Being with you has been the greatest adventure of my life," he said, his voice gaining confidence. "And I can’t imagine spending another day without knowing that you’ll always be by my side. So..." He dropped to one knee and pulled out the handmade ring, holding it up with a hopeful look. "Will you marry me?" Tears filled your eyes as you nodded, unable to find your voice at first. "Yes, Ekko. Of course, I’ll marry you." The joy on his face was priceless as he slipped the ring onto your finger, pulling you into a tight embrace.

another universe!ekko who fainted when you told him you were pregnant moments later...

But before he could say another word, you decided it was time to share your own surprise. “I have something to tell you too,” you said, your hand trembling as you guided his to your stomach. “You’re going to be a dad.” His grin froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Wait, what—?” And then he hit the floor. Powder’s shriek of laughter carried from the rooftop stairs. "I knew he’d do that!"

another universe!ekko who woke up to find you fanning him, looking both amused and concerned...

"You okay?" you asked, trying not to laugh. He blinked up at you, groaning. "Wait… did you just say…?" "Yes, Ekko," you said softly. "You’re going to be a dad." For a moment, he was silent, then a wide grin broke across his face. "I’m gonna be a dad," he repeated, awe in his voice.

another universe!everyone who was overjoyed by the double news…

Vander insisted on hosting an engagement party at The Last Drop, which quickly turned into a celebration for the baby too. Silco was the first to congratulate you both, "You’ll be a wonderful mother," he said quietly. Claggor and Mylo, meanwhile, started a heated argument over who would be the better uncle. "I’m obviously the fun uncle," Mylo declared, crossing his arms. Claggor rolled his eyes. "The kid needs someone responsible. That’s me." Powder, sitting nearby, added fuel to the fire. "Don’t worry, guys. The baby’s gonna love me more anyway. I’m the godmother!" Benzo couldn’t resist teasing Ekko. "Didn’t want to wait, huh?" he joked, clapping him on the back. Ekko just laughed, unashamed. "When you know, you know."

another universe!ekko who became the most attentive fiancé and father-to-be anyone had ever seen…

Ekko went into full-on protective mode. He insisted on carrying anything remotely heavy for you, making sure you got enough rest, and preparing meals that he claimed were "good for the baby." "Ekko, it’s just a broom," you said one afternoon, trying to sweep the living room. "Doesn’t matter," he replied, gently taking it from your hands. "You’re not lifting a finger while I’m around."

another universe!ekko who is absolutely excited about his baby

Ekko transformed into the ultimate caretaker. He made sure you were comfortable at all times, fussing over pillows, blankets, and cravings. He’d often disappear for errands and come back with baby clothes, stuffed animals, or tiny shoes. "You know it’s too early to shop, right?" you teased one evening. "Yeah, but look at these little boots!" he said, holding them up proudly.

another universe!ekko who spent hours talking to your belly...

He would lean close, resting his head against you as he spoke softly. “Hey, little one. It’s your dad. I just wanted to say I love you already—whether you’re a boy or a girl, doesn’t matter.” Your laughter filled the room. “You’re gonna spoil them before they’re even born.” “Damn right,” he said, grinning.

another universe!silco who became unexpectedly protective of you during your pregnancy…

"Must I remind you," Silco said one day, his piercing gaze locking onto yours, "that you’re carrying a very important member of this family?" "I was just reaching for a book," you replied, amused. "It starts with books, and ends with unnecessary strain."

another universe!powder who was the maid of honor and made sure your dress was perfect...

Powder was practically vibrating with excitement as she helped you into your gown. “You look like a queen,” she declared, fluffing the skirt. “No, a goddess. Ekko’s gonna cry when he sees you.” “Let’s hope he doesn’t faint again,” you teased, earning a snort of laughter.

another universe!benzo who secretly cried at ekko’s wedding...

As you walked down the aisle, arm in arm with Vander, Benzo dabbed at his eyes. When Ekko teased him later, he grumbled, “Shut it, kid. It’s allergies.”

another universe!ekko whose wedding was the event of the year...

The Last Drop was transformed into a breathtaking venue, with twinkling lights and decorations. Vander had insisted on non-alcoholic cocktails, much to the delight of you and the other guests. Ekko couldn’t take his eyes off you as you exchanged vows, his voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions. “You’re my everything,” he said, slipping the ring onto your finger. "I promise to love you, protect you, and be the best partner and dad I can be—for you and for our family."

another universe!ekko who ended the night on the roof where it all began...

After the reception, Ekko led you back to the roof where it all began. The city lights shimmered below, the quiet hum of Zaun wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Ekko knelt in front of you, resting his head gently against your rounded belly. "I’ll be the best dad," he murmured, his hands cradling your bump. "You already are," you assured him, running your fingers through his hair. He looked up at you, his brown eyes shining with love. "And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it."

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

[anyarose011]

Agape

Pairing: Lucius x Reader

Summary: After the Roman Empire had fallen, birthing the Republic, you and Lucius had finally found a moment to breathe in each other's presence. Over a few years' journey of healing, you find that is both exhausting, yet all the more fulfilling at the same time.

Part 2 of 2 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past SA, Depictions of Grief, Violence, Angst, Miscommunication, Historical Inaccuracies [I tried my best to make it kind of accurate], Nudity (sexual and non-sexual), Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex (f receiving), P in V Sex

Paul Mescal's facial hair in All of Us Strangers, if you can hear us, please save us. Nobody ask me how I went from "’Oh, I’m just gonna write some scenes about healing from trauma, and the rest is smut! Easy!" to then making it just a little longer than the first part. I'm a yapper, but holy shit XD. Anyway, this is just shameless pRopAgAnDa at what I personally view a husband to act like (even in modern times). So, without further ado, thousands of words of hurt/comfort and smut.

Word Count: 16.4k

You were a lucky child. When you were twelve and your friend was married off to a man who was forty-two, you asked your father when you would be married.

He tucked you in that night, saying that he wasn’t certain, and that you had nothing to fear; for he wouldn’t promise you to a man who was in a war the same year you were born. He would have to know him personally as well, saying.

“It’s easier to like a man than have to plan his assassination if he dared lay a hand on you.”

You like to think he would have approved of Lucius; he was the once heir to the Roman Empire.

You don’t think he would have approved of your…informal marriage.

“A year.” Lucius stated as the two of you sat together in one of the piazzas. “As long as we are not separated from each other for more than three days, Rome will view us as married if we live in the same household for a year.”

You hummed. “And why should we care what Rome views?”

“Men won’t stop their advances on you if they saw you as my sister.” he explained. “Even as a wife, that doesn’t stir them.”

“It’s a very Christian belief of you to have.”

“But it makes them think thoroughly on if they want to risk tainting you.” Lucius finally looked at you. “Knowing that I would break every finger they touched you with.”

Even with his proclamation, you merely shrugged. “Being the emperor’s favorite whore, I doubt they would care.”

He sighed. “Do you want to know what my mother wrote? Her final words that will forever be with me because they are in ink? ‘Take her as your wife.’”

It had only been one day since Lucilla’s death, since Rome had become a Republic, and no one knew exactly what to do.

Yet…even at the mention of her presence, you felt tears spring to your eyes.

How you hated crying; and crying and crying.

“It is wise.” You finally settled on. “The people here too must see me as a traitor.”

“You would be dead if they did.”

“It’s still early.” You smiled sadly. “I desired to be free of the emperors, but all they must have saw was lust for power.”

Lucius sighed. “If it is a concern, then I believe it is best to leave Rome.”

Suddenly, you were no longer afraid for your life. You scowled. “Leave the city you risked your life to liberate?”

“It is not just my own life I need to think of now, is it?”

“Then think of mine.” you began. “I don’t wish to leave. Where would we even go? I know nothing outside of Rome.”

This would have been solved if you somehow still had the house you grew up in. The moment Geta claimed you, it was gone. Even with the fall of the Empire, and the birth of the Republic, you could not take it back.

Among many other things, you could not take it back.

“We’ll live just outside the walls.” Lucius suggested. “A farm perhaps a few miles from here-.”

“-A farm?” You questioned. “You know how to farm? Because I sure don’t.”

“I’ve lived longer on a farm than I have in a palace.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. You also weren’t in the position to bargain. Even though it wasn’t going to be what most would deem an ‘official’ marriage, he still owned you. That was how it always was, whether living outside of the Roman walls or not. Still, you had to try.

“I will learn as much as I need to,” You shook your head. “but I will find a job in the city. You cannot believe I will be shut out-.”

“-Do you want to share a room, or would you like your own?”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

Lucius restated. “We don’t have any money to buy a farm, so I’ll build us one. Do you want your own room?”

You had only known him for a grand total of a day and a half (if you were to add up all the previous times you had spoken to him before Macrinus’ death), so needless to say, his offer shocked you; more so, it impressed you.

“Isn’t it odd for a man and wife to not share a bed?” You asked.

“So, you want to share a room?”

“No.” was your immediate response. “I just…”

Am not used to compromising with men without them threatening my life.

“Won’t it cost money to build a house?” You asked instead. “None the less, more for another room?”

“I only want you to be happy, if we’re to be married.”

There you were, asking every question and not being satisfied with his answers, yet he was remaining patient.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head in thanks for just a second before questioning. “I am still allowed to have a job in the city? It will help with the cost, of course.”

 “Where exactly do you intend to work?”

He said your name; not ‘Julia’, the name you had whispered to him in his cell. Lucius was the only one who had said it to you, for you did not even tell Lucilla or Marcus. It still felt strange hearing it on your lips, nonetheless, his.

Still, shaking your discomfort away, you hummed humorlessly. “I know two women who run their own businesses; hairdressing and tailoring. I’m better at hair than clothes, but not so much. And you?”

He sighed. “I’ll see if there’s any other farmers needing a hand.”

“You’re going to work for a farmer to build a farm?”

“It sounded more bizarre in your head than when you said it aloud, did it not?”

That was the first thing you found out about Lucius after all the bloodshed and heartbreak of the last week:

He spoke with such a straight tone, you did not know he was joking until he would smile just a hint; you couldn’t really call it a true smile.

You managed to grin. “I suppose it makes sense. You should find one that will let us sleep there.”

And he did. A farm just a few miles outside of Rome took both you and Lucius in. It was substantial, housing five chickens, two cows, three pigs, four horses, and seven human children. Albeit the children helped with the chores, but the eldest was only ten and could not manage any of the heavy lifting whatsoever, which was where Lucius came in.

From sun up to sun down, he’d work on the farm. The farmers, Atticus and Diana, let you sleep in the barn of all places. The hayloft was nice for the both of you; enough space to spread out but not be right next to each other. There was also somewhat of a wall between the two of you, giving the illusion of separate rooms.

It was certainly an adjustment for you; had been sleeping on the softest of beds for months, but even so, you just missed the bed from your old house.

Lucius fell asleep the second he laid on the hay.

Dreams and nightmares were always a peculiar thing. Some days, you would dream of your mother and father, some days, they would be of Lucilla and Marcus.

You had nightmares of what befell you before coming to the farm; Macrinus and his manipulation, Caracalla’s temper, Geta…

Yet, the worst that would happen would be you waking up more tired than the night prior. You knew Lucius was having nightmares too, but every time you approached him, he would lie and say he was fine, or simply not want to speak of it.

You stopped asking.

For the first few days on the farm, you were put to work by watching over the younger children when their mother was busy. Somehow, it was the older ones you didn’t mind, it was the youngest baby who was a handful.

It’s morbid to say, but you always wondered how any of them survived infancy.

Luckily, you managed to get back to Rome after perhaps a week of being stranded on the farm. It was almost an hour walk, and you had gotten up even before Lucius had, but it was worth it.

It wasn’t that you felt dead as you were on the farm per say, but walking through the streets brought a certain kind of life back into your steps.

You spent a good portion of the day trying to find the hairdressers you talk to Lucius about. Just as you were about to give up and try again tomorrow, something caught your ear.

Hebrew.

You turned over your shoulder and saw a man speaking in Latin to another man and a pregnant woman. The father had spoken in broken Latin before turning to his wife, speaking quickly in Hebrew as if to ask her what to say.

The Roman man began to yell, and you rushed over, speaking to the patriarch of the family.

“What’s going on?” You asked quickly.

His eyes grew as if you were the first person in Rome to understand him (you probably were). “I paid for a bag of peaches fairly; two bronze, yet they’re saying it wasn’t enough.”

You turned to the man behind you. “He says he gave you two bronze for the peaches.”

“It was three.” The Roman man gritted his teeth.

Tilting your head, you tried. “Show me your stand so we may see.”

It was perhaps stupid of you to challenge him; yet, he controlled his tempter and led you to his fruit stand. The sign by the peaches indeed said ‘2’, but there was also a good amount of peaches blocking the bottom half of the sign.

When you moved a few, it read ‘3’.

You smiled, looking at the man who spoke Hebrew. “It is three, but it’s not your fault this brute didn’t notice either.”

He nodded, returning your grin before handing the men another copper. With an few mumbled exchanges, the man and his wife were on their way.

“You have Judeans in your family?” The man crudely asked.

Still, you decided to reciprocate his crassness with kindness. “I actually speak five languages.”

He rose his brows. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

He hummed, holding his hand out. “Isidorus.”

“Julia.” Was your immediate response as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles. It wasn’t even your own choice to say that name; it was what you lived by. Retracting your hand, you shake your head and said your own name. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-.”

“-All of Rome knows who you are.” He interrupted. “Do not be afraid of your own people. Most of them were there simply a week ago when you tried to slay Macrinus but was there to comfort lady Lucilla in her final moments.”

You only nodded, not wanting to be praised. “I thank you for your kindness.”

“With certain.” He nodded. “You are with child; only a monster would harm a woman carrying.”

The events of the past weeks had made you forgotten about the false babe. Luckily, the fear upon your face could be used to your advantage.

“Are you not well?” Isidorus questioned.

You dropped your gaze, stammering your tone. “The…I lost the child.”

He looked down as well. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head. “it’s…it feels odd. His father was terrible but…”

“Why are you perusing Rome unchaperoned?” He changed the subject.

 “My betrothed is being put to work,” you immediately answered. “and I am scouring the streets to find my own.”

“What has your luck been?”

“Nothing.”

Isidorus hummed. “I could change that.”

Even at the thought of what he was alluding to, you smiled. “Good sir, I am not in the position to sell my body-.”

“-None of that.” he waved his hand. “My brother works down at the entrance of the city gates. They’re always in need of translators.”

You nodded, considering. “When may I meet with him?”

“Tomorrow?” He asked. “Midday at the gates with many people watching so you do not feel threatened?”

The two of you laughed, and you agreed. “I shall be there. Thank you.”

“Anything to help a woman of the people.”

You walked all the way back to the farm with a skip in your step. Even at dinner, you were more talkative with the rest of the family. Lucius certainly took notice as the two of you were settling down for the night.

“You seemed better today.” He complimented, laying onto his bed of hay.

“So, I’ve been absolutely horrible the rest?” You teased, peeking around the wall of the hayloft.

 “No, just what I think you were like before everything; more yourself.” He explained. “Did the hairdressers go well?”

Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms. “I’m actually working as a translator down by the city entrance.”

He gave you a look. “How’d this come about?”

“Well,” you began. “I overheard two men arguing, one was speaking Hebrew, and I asked him what was wrong. There was a misunderstanding over peaches of all things, I helped them talk it out, and it was solved with no bloodshed. The vendor said his brother works at the gates and is always in need of translators and offered to meet with him tomorrow. It will be midday and so many people around; do not worry.”

Lucius nodded. “I’ll accompany you.”

“Did you not hear what I just said? I shall be fine.”

“I have no doubt you would.” You knew that was a lie. “One of the scythes broke today, I’ll need to buy another one in the city.”

You didn’t know if that was a lie or not, but it wouldn’t surprise you if Lucius would sneak out in the night and break equipment simply to go with you.

Sighing, you went behind the wall to your side of the hayloft. “Fine.”

To no one but Lucius’ surprise, Isidorus had not lied about his brother, nor the job offer. Of course, the brother had been off put at a woman being the translator (because everyone knows that they are the lesser sex). Still, after some convincing (you talked to a Greek family, a man from Anatolia, and two brothers from Persia), he said you could be put to work.

Lucius stood there the whole hour you had proved yourself.

“You couldn’t have gotten the scythe while I worked?” You questioned him while walking home.

He kept his gaze on the road before him, carrying the farm equipment. “It was engaging to watch.”

You hummed. “I could see how engaged you were while you stood like this.” You crossed your arms and scowled.

“I did not look like that.” He scoffed.

“You did so!” You refuted, lowering your voice. “My name is Lucius Verus Aurelius, the Last Gladiator, son of Lucilla and Maximus, grandson of Marcus Aurelius.”

He looked down, mouth upturning a little. “I do not sound like that.”

“Is that a smile?!” you gasped. “Gods above, I never thought you could unless you were attempting humor!

“Away with you, woman.”

You only laughed as the sun was starting to set.

There was something called a “Fullmoon” period in a marriage. Most now would say it’s “Honeymoon”, but the period in time where a man and woman were in a complete state of euphoria together was called “Fullmoon” because it only lasted for a month.

You and Lucius (even with your strange circumstance) were not immune to this.

A month later, when you had fully settled into a mundane life of working in different areas for hours upon hours, the only times you saw Lucius was when you ate dinner with the farmer’s family, and before going to bed.

It didn’t’ effect you that much for the first three months, as you both were still on good terms and were fine simply cohabitating without affection. This marriage was purely for protection and to honor Lucilla’s wishes.

Then…Lucius came to you one day, saying that together, you both had enough money to build a farm. He already had a patch of land picked out from the help of the famer who employed him. It was five miles away from the farm you stayed at. Five miles more of a journey to the city.

You would move in once the walls were built, which he said would only take a week or two.

It was too fast for you.

Still, you had to go along with it, because you were to be his wife; nothing more. Even so, nothing out of the ordinary besides your hidden, simmering annoyance happened between you two.

The first day construction was to be done was when light was shed upon it.

“Lucius!” You called his name as you approached him and a few other men hauling the wood and stone that would be used. It was mid-twilight when you ran to them.

He furrowed his brow, walking towards you. “Aren’t you meant to be in the city?”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shook your head. “I asked for the day off because of the house. He said I-.”

“-You need to go back and tell him you’ll work.”

Your smile fell from his usual, monotone demeanor. “He doesn’t expect me to come in today-.”

“-Then he’ll be happy to see you.”

“May I just talk for a moment?!” You yelled.

His said nothing.

Sighing, you began. “I will be useful in any capacity. If you need me to help dig for water, measure supports, lift anything-.”

“-Your shoulder cannot carry-.”

You retorted. “-It might be the shoulder you shot, but it’s the shoulder I have to live with, and I will tell you if something is too heavy to carry.”

It hadn’t been the first time you brought up your shoulder after Rome was free. Yet, in the past, it was always out of good fun; something to say to him when you didn’t want to carry as little as an egg from the chicken coop. You told the children the story too why you had to set one of them down after carrying her for so long.

You expected them to cower away from Lucius when he returned for supper, but instead, they all tackled him to the ground to defend your honor.

They didn’t hurt him of course, and you laughed until you couldn’t breathe.

Yet, at that moment, you said it with nothing but disdain; and he heard it in every word. You thought it would have been enough to guilt him into letting you help, you made sure of it.

Lucius titled his head back toward the main road. “Go on, now. The sun will be up soon, it’ll be better to walk without daylight beating down on you.”

The audacity he had. Usually, on the times you’d have disagreements of sorts, you’d try to leave with dignity; perhaps a word of sarcasm or two.

No, you simply turned on your heel and marched away in a huff.

You were harsher that day when translating, and you were still angry by the time the day ended. You ate dinner outside by yourself (until three of the seven children came outside to eat with you), and did not utter a ‘goodnight’ to Lucius before laying down to sleep.

Neither of you spoke to the other for days after that.

It was one morning, not even when the sun was out, as you tried to tiptoe around him, did he ask from his makeshift bed.

“Do you remember where the house is?”

You nearly fell off the ledge of the hayloft. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Do you remember?”

“Yes!” you whispered, afraid to wake the whole farm. “Why?”

“We made the water pump, and the walls and floors are finished. We’ll be able to sleep there now.”

“I don’t see the appeal in sleeping in a house with no roof.”

“I’ll put half of it on today. Tell your foreman too that you won’t be able to work for the next week.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“I’m teaching you how to tend to a farm.” He wrapped his blankets tighter around him and turned his back to you.

And you continued on your way; making the long trek to the city, which would only be longer when you moved to the house.

When your work was over, you walked and walked. You took a short break at the farmer’s house, making your final goodbyes to the children, and gathering what little belongings you owned.

As you tried to leave, Diana stopped you. She was leading one of the horses, a berber, behind her.

“Take her,” she handed you the reins. “you shouldn’t have to walk so far.”

You shook your head. “I simply cannot-.”

“-I insist.” She smiled. “She’s yours now. Think of it as payment for helping me with the little beasts that are my children.”

Smiling politely, it soon faded. She took notice. “What is it?”

“…I’ve only ever ridden once, and I was a child.”

She sighed yet was still kind. “Come on, my husband’s horse is at your farm. I’ll ride back with him.”

Despite your inexperience, it was actually nice riding a horse. It was perhaps the closest you could ever come to flying in your lifetime; maybe that’s why you enjoyed it. As you were nearing your soon-to-be home, you saw a familiar silhouette along with some others.

Atop the house, against the setting sun, you watched as Lucius continued to add tiles to the unfinished roof. His shirt was off, and even with night beginning to set in with the cold air, he was still breaking a sweat from the rigorous work. You would be a liar if you say that you didn’t catch yourself staring, and it was Diana who had to take the reins.

“What a fine home!” She broke you out of your trance, and when Lucius looked in your direction, you snapped your gaze away.

Lucius nodded. “All that needs to be done is the roof.” He jumped onto the ground just as you were sliding off the horse. He gave you his hand as you were, and you took it.

“Thank you.”

Atticus and the other workers went to a lone tree where their horses were tied. Atticus then approached both you and Lucius.

“Well,” he smiled. “it was lovely hosting the both of you. Please come back as often as you can; I’m sure the children will miss you.”

You all exchanged your final goodbyes, and it when everyone rode off away from you, did you realize something. This was the first time in a while you were alone with Lucius that wasn’t when going to sleep or waking up.

“Do you have a name for the horse?” Lucius asked.

Turning over your shoulder, you led the steed to the tree, petting her as you began to tie her up. “Not at the moment. She’s yours too, do you have any?”

“You’ll be with her more; you should name her.”

Humming you looked at him when you finished securing the horse. “You asked them to give her to me, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “They asked how they could repay you for taking care of their children, I mentioned how it would be a longer journey to the city once we moved here. That’s all I did.”

…He was better at asking for forgiveness than for permission; that was another thing you learned about him. Still, you nodded your appreciation, inspecting the area around you. It was quite beautiful even with its plainness. The fields stretched on for miles, and there were no tall buildings to cover the night sky. Even the unfinished house brought a sense of happiness to you.

Something that was, at least partially, your own.

“Where will the barn and chicken coop go?” You questioned.

A hint of a smile played on his mouth, but in Lucius fashion, did his best to hide it. “You were complaining about not having a roof, and now you wonder about things for the animals?”

“Perhaps I’m more interested in farming that you are.”

“I’ll teach you.” he led you into the house. “Come on.”

 The front living space was large, and in the corner of it had an oven, so that was where the kitchen would be. Lucius showed you the two rooms as well; each having a single pillow and a blanket.

“We’ll begin planting tomorrow.” he announced. “I don’t think I’ll have to wake you up.”

“You won’t.” You nodded. “Goodnight, Lucius.”

“Goodnight.” He said your name.

You didn’t think you’d ever get over the sound of your own name from his lips.

You named the horse after your mother. Well…not the exact same name, but a similar one. It was quite a scene too when confessing to Lucius you could exactly remember how to ride a horse by yourself.

He didn’t laugh at you, that was what greatly surprised you. He spent an hour teaching you, and you were able to ride her on your own.

Farming was more difficult than you thought it would be, but not so horrible either. Yes, where Lucius was patient with you for the first few days, he made a few snide comments as time passed. Nothing outright mean, but still enough to get under your skin.

Still, you managed to pick it up within the few weeks after that.

He had even let you help him finish the roof of the house; something you didn’t expect him to do. After living in the house for a month, both of you managed to buy actual beds for your rooms, among other luxuries like a few tables and chairs for the main living area, and utensils both for cooking and for eating.

The bathroom was completely bare. Having spent all the money on everything else, it would take time for the both of you to buy a bathtub. Bathing wasn’t a problem back on Atticus and Diana’s farm, but now being away from them, you would be forced to rely on the public baths in the city…

Even with some bathhouses having baths only for women, that did not stop men from forcing their way into them.

You didn’t mind being dirty for weeks on end.

The two of you fell into another pattern of life; you going into the city and spending hours translating foreign dialogue, and Lucius working on the farm for most days, sometimes accompanying you.

There was…something else strange as well.

It was always a coin toss on what weeks Lucius would speak to you or not.

Yes, he was always a man of few words, but this was different. There were some days when you asked him about his day, he would tell you what boring tasks he did. Than, on others, it was just one word: “Good.”

Never “Bad”, never “Just okay”; only “Good”. Even when you knew it wasn’t, that’s all he would say.

And you could endure it.

It had already been a little over half a year since the two of you started living together. In the eyes of Rome (as mere Plebians), you would be married once a year passed.

This was perhaps the best marriage you could ask for as a Roman woman. Still…every day that Lucius would not speak to you only brought more dread upon your shoulders.

When he stopped even looking at you, that was when you went to Diana one day.

“It’s so lovely to see you.” She smiled, setting down two cups of wine and sitting. “It’s felt like ages!”

With her youngest baby on your lap, you chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “You honestly didn’t need to get the wine out.”

“Nonsense!” She waved her hand. “It’s a celebration just to be in your presence. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

“How’s the farm? Lucius?”

“Well,” you took another sip, setting your cup down. “the farm has been alright. I know at least how to properly water crops and know when they’re ready to harvest or not. I help Lucius sometimes, but…he likes things his own way. He was a farmer too, I understand.”

She hummed. “And as a betrothed? I hope having your own home would help; to me, you two treated each other more like acquaintances than anything else.”

All you could do was avoid eye contact and bounce the giggling baby on your knee.

“Ah.” She sighed. “So not much has changed?”

“We both talk more than we had at your farm, but somehow, less at the same time.” You explained.

Diana reached over and held your hand, asking softly. “When was the last time you were intimate?”

As if she were a man, you tore your hand from hers. “What?”

“I do not wish anything to be forced upon you,” she stated first. “especially with what has happened to you. But…it is still important, especially to your future marriage.”

“We…we haven’t done anything in…months.” You were not going to tell her you hadn’t even seen him naked. You were not going to tell her you hadn’t done you “duty” as a woman.

She nodded. “There must be something plaguing his mind terribly.”

“I know that!” You cried. “He just won’t tell me.”

“Men do not like talking,” Diana sighed. “I have been married to Atticus for fifteen years, and even after seven children, there are parts of his past I still do not know of. What Lucius frets over is important though. You must dig your heels into the ground and let him know you are not doing anything until he tells you what he has issue with.”

The baby on your lap cooed as you held her, reaching for parts of your clothing. Diana took her from you once the baby started fussing, and you offered her a grateful smile.

“I’ll try my best with him.”

She squeezed your shoulder. “He will come to his senses. If not, then he truly hit his head too hard in the Colosseum.”

Except, you couldn’t confront him when you got home. Even though the sun was only beginning to set, when you arrived, the house was silent. You peeked into his bedroom and saw that he was already fast asleep.

With a sigh, you finished your nightly activities, and when the sun went down, you were in your own bed.

The nightmare was unlike any you had before.

Hands from all around you reached out to you. Some grabbed clumps of your hair, stuck their fingers into your mouth, caressed the most intimate parts of your body, or even tear your skin off.

You blinked and then you were in the palace, surrounded by cloaked figures. Someone forced you onto your back, and you looked up and saw Geta, raising a knife high above his head before diving it into your stomach. He carved it out before digging his hands into the opening he made and pulled out your womb.

After sitting up in bed, you had thought you awoken. When you opened your bedroom door, you were welcomed to a field of reeds, seeing nothing for miles. All but a silhouette in the distance. You could not make out it to be a man or a woman; all you knew was that you needed to run to them.

Yet, even as you dashed through the fields, calling out a name you do not even remember, your feet sank into the ground with each step.

The earth swallowed you whole before you could even reach them.

You didn’t awake with a scream; you didn’t even awake with a cry. You did awake in a sweat. Sitting up, you slowly pulled the blanket away from your body. Your stomach was unwounded, and nothing had happened.

Without knowing why, you rose from your bed and slipped on your sandals. Not even putting on a robe, you walked out of the house into the cold, night air. Numbly, you treaded through the tall grass away from the house and stopped.

The stars above you watched as you fell to your knees, and the past finally had the last laugh.

You wept for your mother (whose touch you never felt).

You wept for your father (who you had to take care of the same way he took care of you).

You wept for Marcus (the first man outside of your father to ever see you as a person).

You wept for Lucilla (the woman who saved you in more ways than one).

You wept for the innocence you lost to the twin emperors (and how you mercilessly killed them).

You wept and wept, until you felt bile claw its way up your throat and out of your mouth.

The tears did not stop even after you were finished.

Two hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you tried to tear yourself away with a sharp cry. You were turned around, and even though your tears blinded you, you could see that it was Lucius.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes grown.

You couldn’t speak clearly, only shaking your head and saying ‘No’ over and over. Lucius led you to the water pump and sat you down by it. Cranking the handle until the water flowed freely, he cupped his hand to catch some of it before gently washing your face.

The cool water grounded you, and your sobs began to slow. Once you were only left with shallow breathing and a stuffed nose, Lucius finally sat beside you.

“What happened?” He asked again, although, returning to his normal, straight-toned self.

“Bad dream.” Was all you said.

He said nothing at first. Then, looking down at the grass beneath him, he said. “Would talking about it help you?”

It was meant to be a helpful question, but it only angered you. “You ask that now? After I run out into the night screaming?”

Lucius squinted his eyes. “Why does that bother you?”

“I know you have nightmares too.” You scoffed. “I have asked you dozens of times if you wish to talk to me about them, and you have always said no. You’ve never once asked me about mine, so how dare you expect me to tell you about it now when you cannot even share yours with me!”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head.

You stood up, walking back to the house. “You’re right, it isn’t fair.”

He jumped to his feet. “You can’t walk away without telling me why this is troubling you.”

“You first.”

“What?”

You turned to face him. “We are to be married in less than a year, at least ‘In the eyes of Rome’ as you say, yet you do not even look at me anymore!”

His shoulders fell, and he shook his head. “I am looking at you-.”

“-I ask you how you are these days, and you lie to me every time.” You interrupted. “The few instances you allow me to work beside you, you criticize every little thing I do. I understand that I am the farthest thing you wanted for as a wife-.”

 It was that word that struck a chord. Despite saying it every so often those past few months…it was only then it occurred to you that where Lucius was your first husband…you were not his first wife.

He tore his gaze away from yours, as if he knew you had figured it out. You sighed. “Gods above…I’m sorry for what has happened to her, and I will never know the loss of a love like that…but I cannot be viewed as her replacement-.”

“-Who told you that you were?” He sharpened his tone.

You swallowed, knowing that this would all end in tears no matter what you said. “You do not tell me anything. I will never ask you to care for me the way you cared for her, but she is gone-.”

“-I couldn’t do anything after she died but weep and watch her body float into the ocean.” He hissed. “I vowed to kill the man that slaughtered her, and I didn’t. It had been perhaps just a month since her death, did I promise myself to another woman. I have dishonored her memory three times.”

“I do not know how long you need me to apologize for something I could not control, but I will if that means you will stop hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You hate that I will be your wife!” Your voice was growing hoarse. “I don’t understand it at all. I will be whatever it is you wish me to be in few months’ time, because you will own me. Even if you wish me to be dead, it shall be done because what I want will not matter-.”

“-Must you make everything about yourself?!” He finally yelled. “Would it soothe you if I said I despised every part of you? That if Jupiter himself came down and offered me my old life in exchange for you, I would give you up to him?! Would it give you any peace of mind if I told you I would have rather died in the arena than live a thousand years with you?”

You had expected him to at least pause after he made his confession. To at least have the courage to look you in the eye and watch as the words sunk into your being. Yet, as soon as he finished, he stomped back to the house; and you were alone outside again.

The tears upon your face glimmered from the light in the sky above you, for all you could do was stare at the little farmhouse Lucius had built for you.

How strange that something you once saw as a sign of devotion, was now revealed to be one of complicity.

He had admitted his disdain for your future marriage. You knew that it would be loveless (you would never escape that), but you wished at least for respect. Seeing as how you were not even going to have that, you dragged your feet over to the tree where your horse was tied up.  Mounting her with nothing but the clothes on your back, you raced down the pathway.

For the first day, you had stayed at Diana and Atticus’ farm. You said nothing about Lucius, and tried to spend the most time with the children to avoid any questions.

On the second day, you finally went back to the city. Even though the man in charge of you yelled louder than Lucius had at you, it did not phase you. You merely nodded and returned to work. With what money they paid you for the day, you spent it on a room at the safest inn you could find. You had another nightmare that night. Not as horrible as the one two days prior, but awful enough for you to lay awake until the sun rose.

The third day seemed to be ordinary, until you finished your job, and you were promenading along the market. As you eyed the fruit at Isidorus’ stand, a man came to stand beside you.

“Good sir,” you heard Lucius’ voice. “do you have a wife?”

Isidorus nodded. “I do.”

“What from your stand would you give her if she was angry at you?”

He eyed you before smiling at Lucius. “My ears to listen.”

You turned, promptly walking away. Of course, Lucius followed.

“I didn’t know you confided into strangers about our qualms.”

“He’s not a stranger.” you kept trying to lose him. “And gifts will not suffice for an apology this time.”

He got in front of you, uttering your name. You stopped, sighing. “What else have you come to say to me?”

“That I am a fool.”

Although you weren’t necessarily expecting him to admit it, you only nodded. “You very much are.”

He began. “For my entire life, I was not allowed to be entirely truthful with others. Whether it was how I felt in the moment, or even my own name. I’m not used to the freedom of being candid with one another. And I have been mistreating you; I have provided a home, but I haven’t provided your wellbeing. Ari-.” Lucius paused, breathing through his nose. “Arishat and I lived on a farm, that was all I knew while being a husband. I will love her until the end of my days, but that does not give me the right to neglect you. I will…I will try with all my being to share my thoughts with you.”

You stared at him, feeling as if you would blink, and you would awaken from another dream. Yet once you did and saw that he was still in front of you, you said.

“I didn’t mean to insult your memory of her.”

He shook his head. “I believe she would hit me if she were here and saw how I treated you.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “Truly, for everything. I…it’s not only you, I don’t know if I will ever feel like myself after…everything.”

Lucius already knew. Still, looking around himself, he then said. “Where is your horse?”

“The inn I’ve been staying at has a stable. You walked the whole way here?”

“It’s what I deserved.”

“You smell horrible.” You mustered a shy grin.

He mirrored you, looking away. “I have for a while.”

“I do as well. I was…I was going to brave the baths; would you like to join me?”

Your offer took him by surprise. Usually, a question like that would be an invitation to more salacious activities to take place. Still, what took him aback more was how you were initially so afraid of the public baths, yet there you were.

“I shall.” He agreed.

Thus, the two of you walked beside one another. There were many baths in Rome, yet it would be challenging to find one that had a separate bath for women and one for men. By the time you reached the third bathhouse, you sighed.

“This will do.”

Lucius shook his head. “I’ll ask the workers at this one if they know-.”

“-No.” You stopped him. “It’s fine. I wish to speak more with you.”

He was still hesitant, but gave in. The two of you entered and drifted off to the separate changing rooms. It was strange that the bathhouse had rooms for the different sex to disrobe, but not baths itself.

After locking your clothes away, you ventured out into the main pool. You were welcomed to an array of naked bodies. You weren’t entirely innocent of course, even before everything. You were never to see any of these people again; it was Lucius you would live with.

Quickly, you disappeared half of your body under the surface of the water and clung to the wall of the large bath. Other people around you laughed and socialized, only putting you more in the eyes of men who only came to the baths for one thing.

Yet, before you could take a moment to worry, your eyes fell to Lucius who entered. You soon averted them and felt the water shift beside you as he entered. You turned to look at him, leveling yourself with the side of the pool, essentially shoulder to shoulder with him. The hear radiating off of his body onto yours reminded you too much of that night months ago; the one where you whispered your name into his ear.

“What were you like as a boy?” You questioned in an attempt to hide how flustered you were.

He hummed. “Why do you ask?”

“If you wish to be more honest with me, than I think it should be best to stary with something minor.”

“I understand. I was spoiled growing up in the palace. Still, I wished nothing more than for adventure. All my life, the mere thought of war and battles were taught as a way to bring glory to the empire; pride for one’s family. I had gotten my foolish wish when Maximus died, and my mother sent me away from Rome.” He paused momentarily, before continuing. “I ran all across the land until I was thirteen, where I finally settled in Numidia. I had changed my named too many times to count and settled upon Hanno.”

Your attention did not waver for a moment. When he was finished you asked. “How old were you when you left?”

“Eight…” There was a sad silence between the two of you. A silence held in almost reverence for all the troubles he had been through. “What about you?”

Even with your uneasiness to answer your starkly different childhood, you did so; also have been promising to be honest with him. You spoke of your father, your past friends, the house you grew up in. He never once looked upon you with envy or hatred.

“Your father sounded like a good man.” He said.

“He was.” You nodded, feeling a weight settle in your chest. "I think he would have liked you.”

“I can only hope.”

The conversation halted after that, unknown if you should wait for him to ask a question, or for you to ask another. Both of your eyes drifted around the bath house as people filtered in and out. When your gaze fell back onto Lucius’ you watched his eyes flicker to something behind you. Before you could utter a word, he placed his hand upon your bare back, bringing his lips to the space between your ear and your jaw.

It all happened so fast you had no time to react, and your body shivered upon the feel of him being so close to you.

“There’s a man eyeing you from behind.” He whispered into your skin. “Don’t look at him, just keep looking at me. I’m sorry.”

You pulled away slightly, doing as he told. He traced circles on your back with his thumb, staring intently at you. Even as you shrunk under his eyes, they did not frighten you.

Deciding to play along, you trailed your hand up his bare arm until resting on his shoulder. You felt his skin erupt into goosebumps and he took a sharp intake of breath.

“Okay?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just…it’s been a while.”

Anyone with any sense knew that meant more than one thing. It had been a while since he felt anyone’s touch; nonetheless, a naked woman’s.

From behind him, you saw a small group of girls all looking at you. They all looked a little younger than you, and acted like so, giggling loudly and talking without a care in the world. It was only then that you noticed they were looking at Lucius.

“Is there someone eyeing me now?” He attempted to tease you when he noticed your gaze.

You nodded, no hint of humor behind your voice. “A good few of them.”

“Is that so?”

You removed your hand. “I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“Wouldn’t mind what?” He pinched his eyebrows together.

“…Getting your release from a woman that isn’t me.” You were puzzled by his seeming ignorance. “You’re a man, I understand-.”

He said your name with somewhat of gasp. You didn’t listen one bit.

“No, I mean it. I will not be more selfish than I already have been, expecting you to remain celibate because I don’t think I will-.”

Lucius said your name again and you stopped. Even when you did, he said it a third time as if to know he had your attention. He continued to run his fingers up and down your back.

“I will not dishonor you-.”

“-I have been dishonored several times before, it does not matter-.”

“-Listen to me.” He said softly yet firmly. “Even if I desired someone carnally, it is not selfish of you to want my loyalty. I’m not a boy who wishes to bed anything that breathes. I don’t think I can do so with someone I do not have any deep feelings for. You are my wife, and I will not treat you less.”

He didn’t call you his ‘betrothed’. As if, the moment you accepted his apology, you were already his other half. To hear him speak with so much certainty after neither of you knowing what any day would bring…it brought an astonishing comfort you never knew you needed.

“Thank you.” You felt like your heart could beat again.

“You don’t-.”

“-No but I do. I don’t…I don’t think I could give you anything of myself if you wanted it. It’s still…I remember a lot of what Geta did to me, and I forgot it at the same time. It doesn’t happen a lot in my nightmares, but it still does. That one night you found me he…he cut out my womb and held it in his hands. I thought I woke up, but I didn’t, and I think I was in Elysian Fields, but I only saw a shadow. I don’t know what any of that means.”

Lucius let you finish all of the anxiety you had thrown onto him. Still, releasing a shallow breath, he said.

“You die in most of my dreams.” He clarified. “The bad ones, I mean. A lot of people do, but you’ve been in them the most. There are times I see both you and Arishat, or my mother, or all three of you and…those are the worst. The night I found you outside, I couldn’t…I had a horrible dream that I couldn’t even see your face, but I knew it was you when I found you hanging in the Colosseum.”

If the both of you weren’t naked and, in the bathhouse, you would have embraced him. Yet, with the most understanding look in your eyes, you brought your hand to the base of his neck, his loose curls between your fingers. You swore you felt him relax into your touch for just a moment.

“I’ve known everyone to have their own beliefs of dreams.” You whispered. “They’re meant to predict the future, they reflect the past, they are punishments, they are blessings, and they mean nothing. I wonder if it’s possible they are all of them.”

He nodded. “I don’t know what I believe in anymore.”

“I do.” Lucius unknowingly leaned into you just ever so slightly. You grinned from ear to ear, pulling your hand away from him. “I believe you need to cut your hair.”

He chortled. “I’m not spending anything on cutting it. It’s fine.”

“I’ll cut it then.”

“I would rather be stabbed.”

“Oh, quit being dramatic.” you playfully swatted him. “There’s a reason I would’ve been a better hairdresser than tailor.”

The two of you teased one another for a minute longer after that. Than, even though the conversation died, it was not in vain. There was a quiet gentleness and protectiveness as you both shared a short distance between each other while bathing. Lucius kept his eye on you more than you did him, knowing that it was always possible a man could try to take advantage of you.

When all was said and done, you got your horse from the stable at the inn, and the two of you rode back to the farm with a newfound understanding of each other.

More than a year and a half have passed since the fall of the Roman Empire and its subsequent birth of the Republic. Your strange marriage with Lucius grew into a friendship of respect and understanding. You both talked more than you had when you were first betrothed, even if your busy schedules remained the same.

The farm had improved after its first harvest, even raising enough money to build a chicken coop and house a few chickens. The house itself was more furnished, and the two of you managed to purchase a bathtub, no longer needing to use the public ones in the city.

Both of you had changed as well. Even with what minimal farm work you did, it built both your strength and stamina. Lucius had begun to grow out his facial hair; not much for it to be an actual beard, but more so just under his nose. You’d joke about it looking like a caterpillar, to which he would lightly shove you away.

After the intimate discussion the two of you shared, it was only then you both realized you still didn’t know much about each other. Most importantly, the little things that made each of you a person.

So, you’d take time to get to know one another.

You were helping Lucius pull weeds around the crops when you found out he had ripped a monkey’s throat out with his teeth during his very first gladiator fight.

You were reading a collection of poetry one night when Lucius told you that you mouth the words of whatever you’re reading if you find it most interesting.

During supper one night, Lucius ate the entirety of the plate only to then eat whatever else you hadn’t. That was when your theory was proven right; he does forget to eat sometimes.

Both of you had tried to keep the housework to an equal amount; if he cooked one night, you’d clean the kitchen and vice versa. Yet, some remained stagnant; you always cut his hair, yet he always changed the horses’ shoes.

Cutting his hair was perhaps your favorite way to speak with him.

“Remember to clean your sandals before coming in next time.” He reminded you as he sat on a tree trunk outside. “You tracked in mud.”

Standing behind him while trimming small hairs, you shook your head. “My apologies, master of the house; it was downpouring and I was freezing.”

“Serves you right, I’d say.”

You placed the tip of the shears against his neck. “What else do you have to say?”

He snickered. “That you’re an astonishing woman who I am blessed to be with."

“Wrong answer, all lies.” You pretended to stab him, only to bring the shears back to his hair.

“I’m not lying!” Lucius laughed.

You only gave him a ‘tsk’ before continuing. “Are you sleeping any better?”

He said nothing at first. Your eyes drifted down to his hands and saw him pull on his tunic; another telltale sign of his nervousness.

“I keep seeing my mother’s face.” He admitted. “Only her face, nothing else.”

“It was the third night last night, right?”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “Would you want to hear a dream I had a few days ago to make you feel better?”

“Better because it was happy, or because you think I’ll feel happy I wasn’t you?”

“The latter.”

“Tell me.”

You turned his head to the side gently, continuing your work. “I stood in front of the entire senate of Rome, and they were all laughing at me. I don’t even know what I said, they only laughed and laughed.”

“Is that not what happened to you in the waking day?”

“No, they listened…I think.” You shook our head. “It more so angers me that, in the waking life, I presented logic to them, and they still chose Macrinus who showed nothing of the sort.”

“Some men like to speak of only desiring logic yet run away with their emotions once it is presented.” Lucius stated. “What had you told them?”

“That all of Rome would continue to riot if they killed Lucilla.” You said grimly. “I still don’t understand; they had their proof of the rage Rome’s children could feel when their general was killed, the only reason the city did not fall was because Macrinus was slain. I’m done.”

You set your shears down and Lucius stood, shaking the fallen hair off his clothes. He turned to you.

“If it matters at all, I think the only reason this house hasn’t fallen is because of you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shoved him playfully. “Away with you, you’re just as much of the reason as I am.”

“I do all that I can.”

There were moments like this where you would not speak of childhood memories or events of your day. These moments were reserved for the days where it felt like time slowed down just to give you two the grace to speak about them in more detail.

With only a single candle between the two of you one quiet night, you told him how you have to walk a different path in the city sometimes simply to avoid brothels; hating the sounds you would hear from inside, the stench of cheap perfume and sweating bodies burning your nose, the men who would brag to their friends about the women they had.

At breakfast one day, before the sun had even rose, Lucius told you about a time when he was ten, still on the run. He had gone into a man’s house with the promise of food, only to then be hit the head with something so heavy, he was knocked out. He had awoken in a dark room, but managed to find a curtained window, and escaped. He never knew what would have happened to him if he had woken up just a minute later.

There was tenderness you shared with him that you had never shared with anyone in your life.You sht

That was only more apparent on one fateful day.

The first bad omen for the day that morning was when you had run out of sugar for breakfast. The second was when your horse was extra stubborn as you rode her into the city; it was so out of the ordinary, you wondered if you did something to make her hate you.

Still, everything was fine once you went to work. At least it was for the first half of the day.

There were aggressive people from across the land coming into the city you certainly had to deal with, but the worst was when a man twice your size bluffed you with a slap. Even so, the other men you worked with had yelled and sent him away.

That day though…there was a woman with a look in her eyes.

You thought you had seen pure rage when you had been with Geta. Yet, that day was a lesson to you; wrath had many faces.

She mumbled in Greek, but you did not know what she said at first. Then, she attempted to speak Latin. You politely told her you could speak Greek, and so with exhaustion, she told you that she was going to visit her mother.

When asked for her mother’s name, she didn’t say it. After asking again, she became enraged, yelling at you that she should just be able to be let in. When you resisted, she grabbed your bad arm, yanking it to pull you closer to her.

The pain shot through your shoulder like a bolt of lightning, and you cried out. She tugged on your hair as the men beside you tried to pry her away from you. Luckily, she didn’t manage to yank any of it out once the men forced her away from you. Tears fell freely over your face as you cradled yourself, unable to stop the sobs from leaving your lips.

They let you leave early yet paid you as if you were there the whole day.

The ride back to the farm wasn’t any better, but at least your steed took notice of your heartache and was more merciful to you. When you made it home, you slowed her down when you saw Lucius limping towards the house.

You both stopped where you were, staring at one another as if you weren’t supposed to be seeing the other.

“Why are you back so early?” He asked first.

“Why are you dragging your foot?” You asked second.

Lucius took a deep breath, and you saw tears in his eyes. “I fell.”

The only time you had seen him cry was when burying Lucilla; it wouldn’t be from simply falling. You slowly pulled yourself off your horse but did so quick enough before he could rush to help you. You wished nothing more than to pull him into the warmth of the house, to sit him down and tend to his wound to distract you from your own.

Yet, the moment you took his hand, he began to weep.

“Oh Lucius.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to cradle his face. He wrapped both of his arms around you, bringing you onto the ground with him. You yelped a little when he squeezed your bad shoulder too tight, and he pulled away.

“What happened?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You need-.”

“-What happened?!”

Knowing he wouldn’t stop asking, you told him. “Someone at the gate attacked me. Pulled on my bad arm, my hair…it wasn’t as bad as you’d think-.”

“-Where is he?” He lowered his tone and his demeanor.

Your jaw dropped into a surprised huff. “She is long gone by now, and even if she wasn’t then as my husband, you should stay with me instead of wandering the streets of Rome hoping to find someone to be your anger’s victim!”

Though he still wore that rage upon his face, it soon fell once he saw your own tears fall from your eyes like dewdrops on flowers. Lucius laid himself flat on the dirt, and you sat above him.

“I have been married to you longer than I had been to Arishat.” He confessed. “I knew her for longer, but-but not as deeply; no, I-I knew her more than…I don’t…It’s been long since her death, yet there are moments I think of her, and I cannot stop crying.”

You never knew this was in his heart. You knew to never speak of Arishat, only listen whenever he would bring her up (even so, it was once in a blue moon).

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled, trying to pull himself together. “I know she is gone, and I shouldn’t be-.”

“-You shouldn’t what?” You interrupted. “Remember her? You think I wish for you to forget the woman you so loved?”

He shook his head. “No, but it’s selfish of me to-.”

You were the one to make him lose his words this time. With both hesitation certainty, you placed his head into your lap. It was too late for you to stop once you did, and you felt your own body tense. Then, upon taking a look at his body battered from rigorous work, and another at his face, which relaxed with his eyes fully shut, you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Lucius,” you sighed. “never will I think you are a horrible man for mourning her. You missing her shows just how much you adored her, and how she was a treasure to you. In another life, above all, I wish I could have met her. You are not in the wrong for wanting to see her again. I know you do not love me-.”

“-I do love you.” He opened his eyes upon saying it.

Your heart felt as if it was going to beat itself out of your chest and run away when he said those four words. To preserve your sanity, you took it a different way and smiled sadly.

“Not in the way you loved her.” You said softly. “But what else more can I ask for in a husband than one who treats me with a gentleness I did not know was possible? One who has been there to protect me even before we were married?”

Lucius took a deep breath, rubbing his face to clear away his tears. “You’re too good to me.”

“Gods above,” you groaned tiredly. “we can go back and forth on who deserves each other. Let us just go back into the house, have supper, and sleep.”

“I would like that.” He hissed as he went to stand.

Helping him, once he was on his best foot, you said. “You never told me what you did to your leg.”

He looked behind him at the field. “There was a snake and a rock.”

You gave him a look. “And what happened with them?”

“I don’t wish to speak of it.” He said grimly.

In any other instance, you would have laughed. Yet, as his eyes were still heavy from crying, you just nodded. The both of you helped each other into the house, and you sat him down on one of the several cushions in the living area.

“Your arm,” he asked. “how bad is it?”

You shook your head. “Just really sore. I think she might have left a nasty bruise or two somewhere, but I won’t know yet.”

“Put one of the cloths in the pot with water and put it over the fire.” He told. “Take it out after a few minutes, let it rest for another, then put it on your shoulder. It should help.”

“Thank you.” You stood, doing so, saying. “I swore we had bandages somewhere. I’ll make something for you to drink too; I bought some herbs just last week.”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you as you worked. If it were any other man, you would have felt unsafe; yet, it was only Lucius.

Little by little that night, both of you helped heal one another.

Half a year passed since that night, and you and Lucius had only grown closer. Perhaps as close as you could be with a man who was not your husband by choice.

Not much on the farm had changed; you two were living comfortably, and happily, almost making all the turmoil from the first year worth it. The both of you decided to make more visits to Atticus and Diana’s home, realizing just how much you both missed having someone to talk to outside of each other; but that did not mean you had to keep things hidden of course.

If anything, you shared everything with each other.

So much so, that when Lucius asked you why you held onto him longer when he embraced you on your birthday, you told him the truth.

“I don’t want every time we touch to be when it is in turmoil.” You explained, growing meeker. “And I…I’ve missed the feeling of it when it has not been forced upon me.”

Lucius stared at you with a look you had never seen from him. He had been gentle with you many a times, but they way his eyes fell into yours…

He took a step closer to you, and when you showed no sign of discomfort, he took your face into his hands. Your eyes shut at the feeling of him, and he pressed his head against yours. Never in your life had someone’s breath upon your skin feel so immaculate.

From there on out, it always seemed like you had to have a hand on each other one way or another.

It started with holding hands whenever walking through the city together. He used to ‘lead’ you through the crowds in the past, but more so with a hand hovering over your back. No, him holding your hand meant he would have to go where you would go if anything were to happen.

Alongside this, he’d reach over and hold it at Atticus and Diana’s house; whether it was during dinner, or simply just talking. The eldest child had said what the rest of the household had been thinking.

“They’re finally acting like they’re married!”

Because even when there were no other eyes besides yours, he would still hold your hand. You wonder if it ever became a way for Lucius to ground himself; because it certainly did for you.

You hugged him more often as well. Those used to be for ‘substantial’ occasions; those being celebrations or heartbreaks. Now, they were incorporated into greetings and goodbyes. Of course, it only took a few weeks before they were than made into simple desires.

He would be cooking dinner, and you would come beside him to embrace him. You would be gathering eggs from the chickens, and he would wait for you to set the basket down before tossing his arms around you.

At night, it was normal for you both to trade spots as one of you would read a story, and the other would have their head in the other’s lap.

This happened on so many occasions, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise for what Lucius proposed next, but it did.

“If you don’t favor the question I’m about to ask you, then you are allowed to never speak to me again.” He said, his feet hanging off the arm of the lecti couch you both bought that year.

“Well,” you scoffed, sitting on the end of it. “I will have to speak to you again because we live together.”

“Would you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Never in your life had you thought that would have been his question. When you didn’t speak right away, he backtracked. “I don’t expect you to. I understand if-.”

“-The nights are growing colder.” You stated, no visible uneasiness. “I’ve noticed it, and I don’t think any number of blankets could warm me.”

He swallowed thickly, and this was perhaps one of the first times you’d ever seen him like this. “Yes…it’s cold.”

You nodded, and another beat of silence fell between you two. Standing up, you tugged at the seams of your dress. “I-I’ll go change.”

“Yes,” he sat up. “I shall as well.”

Disappearing into your room, you tossed your day clothes off then slipped on a nightdress. After pacing around the floor for a few moments, you gathered the courage to go out into the hall and knock on Lucius’ door.

It was opened as if he was standing right behind it.

He wore just a plain, tattered tunic, and said nothing; yet, you caught his eyes run down you before immediately bringing them back to your face. You were not even in his room yet, and already your body grew warmer.

“May I come in?” You asked.

“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside and you entered.

Somehow, you were no longer man and wife; you were two people who had just discovered a strange, yet burning, feeling that you both held for one another. A feeling that you were both afraid to say aloud…because then it would be real.

The only light in his room was from the moon just peeking through the curtain of his one window. Looking around, you saw that it was still just the bare minimum; a bed, a small table beside it with a lamp, and a dresser. The only others things of note were his sword leaning against the wall, and just a few dirty clothes on the floor.

“I-I tried to clean before you came.” He mentioned.

“Is the rest under the bed?” You asked.

He chuckled. “Yes.”

Before you could change your mind, you pulled the covers off one side of the bed and slid under them. Glancing behind at Lucius, you saw him wear a look where you knew he wanted to say something.

“What is it?” You asked.

“That’s usually the side I sleep on but-.”

You rolled over to the other side. “Are you content now?”

He wheezed, moving to his designated side, slipping under the covers. “Very.”

“Good.” You smiled up at him.

His own mouth lowered as you could see him thinking. He then said. “I don’t expect us to do anything.”

You watched as his eyes dropped from you, as if it was too invasive just to merely look. Thinking from only your heart, you scooted closer, resting your hand on his arm. You ran your fingers up and down his muscles, but then guided his arm to wrap around your waist.

“Okay?”

He hummed, pulling you just a little closer. “Yes.”

“And we’ll just lay together?” You whispered. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

And that’s what you did. The compete truth was that you would caress him only to remind yourself that it was Lucius and not Geta. His arms, his back, his face…he was nothing like him.

After a few more nights, you told him that as you both lay awake, unable to sleep. He had pulled you on top of him that night, saying that you could see his face better in the moonlight. You only giggled, hiding your face in his chest; even that was too much for you.

It was easier to tell each other things in the darkness. You always knew that, but with being in the same bed (you had not gone back to your room for a week), the words flowed out of both your mouths.

“After my father died,” you said one night as you laid on your side facing him. “I would stroke my own hair or even my arms and pretend they were someone else’s. Even when I was with Geta.”

Lucius stared at you, then immediately began to caress your cheek. You shut your eyes, sighing at the feeling.

“I never thought I’d be able to sleep next to another woman again.” He whispered.

“And now?” You looked into his eyes.

He stopped his movements, but did not remove his hand. You watched every part of him. How his chest heaved shallowly, his arms tensing ever so slightly, but his eyes…gods his eyes. They were heavy as they looked at you; a look that made your heart flutter and not shutter.

Swallowing your fear, you sat up and inched closer to him. Your face hovered above his, and your breath heated his skin. His hand continued to trace shapes about your cheek, and shutting your eyes, you placed your lips upon his.

It was the gentlest kiss you ever shared with a man.

You had pulled away, dreading to see how he felt. When your eyes befell his gentle smile, and his other hand came up to cup your face, you kissed him again.

And again, and again, and again.

You climbed upon his lap without pulling your lips away from him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sat up, his own arm encircling your waist and drawing you impossibly closer.

Lucius parted from you, and as you whined at the loss of his lips, they soon settled upon your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your chin. Your heavy pants turned to soft grunts as he kissed down your neck, his mustache scratching your skin in just the right way.

Your hands settled into his hair the lower he traveled, moving your night gown off your shoulder to kiss your collarbone. You felt yourself becoming intoxicated from him, and only then noticed you had been for a while.

Oh, how you wished you could bottle up his laugh, his strength, his stubbornness, and get drunk every night. His kisses only added fuel to the fire that was your desire for him.

He sunk his teeth into your skin, and your body, once enflamed, ran cold.

“No!” You tore yourself from his lap, nearly falling off the bed.

Lucius said your name, leaning forward on instinct but soon stopped once he saw you crawl away. “I’m sorry.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. All you knew was that you needed to go, so you did. Cradling yourself in your arms, you got up from his bed, rushing out of his room and into yours.

You half expected him to knock on the door, then, when you wouldn’t answer, him yell and curse you before breaking it down. Yet nothing of the sort happened. You heard his own door open, and you saw his shadow on the other side, but he did not touch your door. He left after a moment of waiting.

When his own door shut, did you finally cry.

You told yourself that night, you would wake up far earlier than Lucius would so you simply wouldn’t have to see him.

When you awoke, you did the exact opposite. You laid in your bed, trying to return to sleep, only to be forced to lie in the dark. The sun rose into your room, and you heard Lucius’ door open. Still, you did not get up.

It was quite comedic, actually. With your door still shut, he knew you were still home. How he tried his best to keep quiet for you, yet his footsteps had always been heavy, the front door had always creaked, and you could always hear him cursing under his breath every time.

When you knew he had left the house, that was when you stood from your bed, slipping on your sandals. You didn’t bother changing out of your nightdress, leaving your room, and then the house.

Lucius was amongst the chickens when he saw you. He didn’t bother hiding the surprise upon his face at the sight of you. You walked to him until there was little space between you.

“Last night-.”

You took his hand from his side, placing it upon your face. He rubbed your cheek with his thumb as if it was natural. Kissing the palm of his hand, you trailed it down to your clothed breast. He breathed your name with hesitance, but you shushed him. You held his hand there, not taking your eyes off him.

“I will show you, one day.” You told him. “I will show you the mark Geta had made. The one where I myself can scarcely see it, yet I know that it haunts me. But now…” You brought your other hand up to his face, tracing your thumb over his lip. “I just want you to understand.”

He kissed the pad of your thumb, nodding. You embraced him, and he held you with both gentleness and ferocity. The rest of the day carried on as normal, yet you aided him with the chores on the farm.

You went to bed with him that night, but it was the first time he did not entrap you in his arms. You knew he was still afraid of hurting you, but you would be a liar if you said you weren’t thankful for the space.

Still, he would feel your touch every day; whether it was something as small as brushing his hand, or as substantial as kissing his cheek.

As the both of you lay awake one night, you played with the sleeve of his tunic.

“Could I lie on top of you?” You asked.

Lucius looked over at you, nodding. “You never need to ask.”

“I want to.” You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. “I never want to force you to do anything.”

His eyes fell to your hips before returning them to your face. “I’ll tell you if I wish to not do something. I hope you know you can as well.”

“I do. Would you like to touch me?”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

You moved his hands to your hips, which he held firmly, yet not enough to hurt you. You leaned down so your lips touched his.

“No teeth.” You said.

“No teeth.” He repeated.

Lucius sighed into your mouth as you kissed. Despite how you were on top of him, the kiss was sweet, shy even. When you pulled away, you trailed your lips from his cheek to his ear.

“Do you dream about me?” You rasped.

He said nothing, and you continued to kiss every part of his face besides his lips.

“It’s okay.” You kissed his Adam’s Apple. “I want you too.”

“Yes.” His breath hitched.

“What was I doing in your favorite one?” You kissed his pulse point.

“You,” he breathed sharply through his nose. “you’re touching yourself.”

“Would that please you?” You sat up in somewhat surprise, resting your hands on his chest. “To watch me do so?”

He shook his head. “I want to do what pleases you.”

It felt foreign to hear someone say they want you to feel good. Instead of cowering from it, you faced it head on. You kneeled for a moment, hiking your gown up to your hips before sitting back on your ankles,  exposing yourself to him. Lucius’ jaw clenched at the sight of your naked center, and he drew his hands away from your hips, falling them into fists upon the mattress.

“I wish to watch you as you watch me.”

Without looking away from you, he drew his hand down to his cock, pulling it out from under his tunic. Your eyes grew just a hint. There was no doubt upon him being more well-endowed than others, but it was still different from how you imagined.

Shutting your eyes, you trailed your fingers over your cunt, your thumb playing with your clit. The sounds of Lucius’ smothered grunts, and the skin of his cock on his fingers only added to your pleasure. Digging deeper and moving faster, you felt a coil within your stomach tighten when you opened your eyes and saw as Lucius’ gaze bore into yours.

Light moans escaped your lips as your hips moved with a mind of their own, watching the man beneath you take pleasure from his own hand. It was him chanting your name like a prayer that sent you over the edge. With your eyes shut, the coil within you snapped, and pleasure filled your veins.

Not long after, you felt a warmth coat your nightdress. Opening your eyes, you looked down and saw the white-hot residue of Lucius’ release. Your gaze drew to his cock, still clutched in his hand, yet red with droplets of white running over his knuckles.

You don’t know what possessed you to, but you lowered your mouth down to clean him with your tongue.

“Gods be good!” He huffed, laughing your name.

“What?” You wiped your mouth.

 “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Grinning like the devil, you slid off the bed, walking towards the door. “I hope it’s a pleasant one then.”

He sat up. “Where are you going?”

“To change. You dirtied me as well.” You teased.

“Take one of my tunics from the dresser.”

It almost made you laugh that he didn’t want you to leave for even a second. You opened the top drawer, grabbing the longest tunic you could find before facing him. “Close your eyes.”

He laid on his side, putting a pillow over his head. Many would find it strange how the both of you would see the most intimate parts of yourself while doing one of the most intimate acts together, yet you didn’t want him to see you naked.

But Lucius never thought of it as strange. He knew what you had been through, and never once judged you.

When you were clothed, you slid into bed, wrapping your arms around his body and pressing a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“You’re a good man, Lucius Verus Aurelius.” You whispered. “I will tell you that until the day you die, or when you finally believe me.”

He squeezed your hand, relaxing into your touch. You never slept so peacefully until that night.

You always had to see him whenever he would touch you so intimately. There would be nights where there was only a single candle in the room either while he caressed the swell of our breasts, or the inside of your thigh as you sat on his lap.

His fingers were too much for you at first, but he never ridiculed you. When you whimpered at the feeling, he retracted them, kissing your eyes. You asked him again to try, and he whispered praises into your hair as the pain from a dry spell soon turned into pleasure.

It was usually at night did these moments of exploration occurred. In the day, the most you would ever do was kiss. That is, until the first time you cut his hair since the discovery of feelings.

“I don’t want to get hair on your floor.” Lucius said as he sat on the floor, leaning his back against the foot of your bed. It was hotter than sin that day. He wore nothing but a loincloth, but that barely did anything to help him from the heat. You wore essentially a thin shift that would usually be under your dress; yet again, because of the heat, that was all you wore.

You sat on the bed, legs draped over his shoulders as you cut his hair. “It’s your floor too. You built the house.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I haven’t slept here for a while now. Besides, I will clean up.”

“I had no idea you favored doing domestic work now.” He turned and pressed a kiss to your knee.

You slapped the back of his head. “Don’t move! I’ll give you a bald spot if you do so again.”

“Yes, my mistress of the house.” He joked.

“You’re horrible.”

“You just told me I was a good man not so long ago.”

“And I can just as easily revoke that title.”

He stayed silent the rest of the time, but not from any underlining anger. Simply from his at ease posture, you knew he was smiling.

He smiled more those days.

When you were finished, you tossed your scissors aside, but Lucius’ hands settled upon your thighs, not allowing you to get up. You scoffed.

“What is it?”

He turned to face you, kneeling up to meet you. “I wish to try something, but only if you wish it as well.”

You rose your brow, but smiled, kissing his nose. “It will be difficult if I do not know what it is.”

Without drawing his eyes away from yours, he slid his hands up your thighs, bringing the bottom of your shift with it. It seemed normal at first, but once he lowered his mouth, your chest tightened.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I want to kiss you there.” His breath caressed your cunt and you mewled at the feeling. “I think you’ll enjoy it, but we don’t have to.”

Your heart changed from beating in fear, to then in anticipation. You loved how he kissed your lips, and every inch of your skin that was not covered, what would it feel like to have his lips there?

Kissing the top of his head, you laid on your elbows, nodding.

“Let me hear you say it.” He nosed the inside of your thigh.

“Yes.” You sighed. “Please.”

He lowered his mouth back down, pressing the lightest of kissed onto your center. You groaned through shut lips, only for them to part open as the hairs of his mustache tickled you whilst he began to lap at your wetness.

Tossing your head back, you sat up, running your hands through his hair, unconsciously rolling your hips to meet his mouth. His groan reverberated through your body, only adding to the pleasure you were feeling.

“Lucius, Lucius,” you babbled his name until it didn’t sound like a word.

His nose bumped against your aching clit the same time his tongue penetrated your cunt. You yelped as that familiar, tightening feeling swept over you. His half-lidded eyes would stare up at you every once in a while, as he would continue to drink from you as if he had been stranded in the desert. Just as you were on the brink of release, you drew him away from you.

“What-what is it?” He huffed. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, pressing your lips to his before scooting further up the bed. With one last breath, you pulled your shift over your head, revealing your bare body to him. His gaze ran over your figure unashamedly.

“Come here.” You beckoned.

He crawled onto the bed and over your body, yet still looked at your face. You took his hand and laid it over your breast. His body ran cold at what was on the side of it. A bite mark.

“He branded me all those years ago.” You confessed. “And it has not left since.”

Geta…

You ran your hand up his chest. “I love you, and I trust you with every part of my body. I need you to know that.”

“I love you.” He echoed, pressing the tenderest of kisses to the mark and you gasped lightly. “I have for so long now; I…I need you.”

“Then have me.”

He sat back on his knees, unwrapping his loin cloth and tossing it to the floor. Precum leaked from his sweltering cock as it stood upright like a pillar. You crawled over, kissing every inch of his face and climbing into his lap. He drew his arms around your waist, his finger tracing circles into the small of your back.

“I don’t know how long I will last.” He puffed heavily. “It’s been so long.”

“I just want you inside of me.” You kissed his jaw, taking his cock into your hand and sinking down onto it. It had been a while for you too, and while you were soaked, it was not enough to completely subside the tightness. “Just…wait.”

“I could die happy if all you wanted was for me to remain still as you’re above me.” He said into your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin because that was the only way to remind you that he was still there. The further you sunk down on him, the easier and more pleasureful you felt.

“I’m going to move now.” You said into his shoulder, and you did.

Slowly, at first you relished in the quiet slapping of skin and the breath moans leaving both you and Lucius’ lips. He trailed a syrupy line of kisses down your throat until he bowed his head to place them upon your chest.

“Your name,” Lucius said into your skin. “tell me your name.”

You gave him a look as you rolled your hips into his, yet sighed your name.

“Again.” He breathed, latching his lips around the tip of your breast.

You did.

“Again.” He kissed the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into his touch, saying your name a third time.

He repeated your given name, than following it with ‘Aurelias’. Your movements stilled, yet he did not care.

“You are the most cunning woman I have met, and you are my wife.” He stated, never looking away from you. Tears sprang to your eyes when you saw the same for him, and you gave him a messy kiss before resuming faster this time.

After months of being called a name that did not belong to you, especially whenever in the bedroom, Lucius was doing everything to remind you that you were yourself again as you felt pleasure.

It felt as if, after two years, ‘Julia’ was finally gone.

You chanted his name as if it was your favorite prayer, burying your hands in his hair and kissing his lips.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius…”

Because, just like you, how long had it been since his true name was uttered whilst in the throes of pleasure?

He moaned into your mouth, holding onto you tighter. You squealed when he rose up onto his knees, latching your legs around his waist and only crying out sharply when your throbbing clit ran across his pubic hair.

“Come on, come on,” he urged into your ear. “I know you can give it to me.”

“Lu-Lu-!” You moaned, running your nails over the thick field of muscles that was his back.

He said your name over and over again, until it was one word that was the end of you.

“Please.”

You came with your vision blinded from the state of euphoria you had reached. Lucius still held you above him even as his legs began to quake, bouncing you on his cock. You felt as though you were suspended in air when his groans stammered, and you felt strings of his cum paint the walls of your cunt.

Slowly, he lowered the two of you onto the mattress, laying you on your back like you were the most precious treasure in the world. You kept your legs around his waist, breathing with him with your chests glued together from your sweat.

“Lucius-.” You began, trying to shift under him.

“-Just,” he grunted. “just another moment. Please.”

How could you deny him? Every kiss he gave was loving as he laid upon you. His cock had grown soft, and even you were aware that you could’ve fallen asleep if you weren’t careful.

When he pulled away from you, you let out an involuntary whine.

“I thought you wanted me to get off you?” He kissed your stomach when he stood up.

You shoved him playfully. “Just clean me up and come back.”

“So controlling.”

Still, he did what you asked, bringing a soaked washcloth from the bathroom and cleaning you. You groaned out of both the cold water hitting your hot skin, and the heat from the air itself.

“We should’ve waited until night.” You whined.

“Why?”

“I’m suffocating from the air outside!”

Lucius hummed, tossing the washcloth aside and looming over you. “Then that forces us to wear nothing today, so that we might cool down.”

You nodded. “Perhaps you aren’t as feeble minded as I thought.”

He settled behind you, tossing an arm over your waist and pulling your back to his chest. Even though his cock pressed against you, the two of you were completely exhausted from the heat of the day’s work, and the heat of what took place only moments before.

The only sound was that of the cicadas singing in the summertime. Sometimes, a breeze or two of wind would bounce the curtain off the window, but for the most part, just the even breathing you shared with Lucius was all you could hear.

Lucius’ mustache rubbed your skin when he placed a kiss to your neck. “What’s going on inside of your mind right now?”

You grinned. “A proper wife would say that I was thinking of you.”

“But that’s not what it is.”

“It’s something that has nothing to do with anything of note.”

He squeezed you. “Spit it out, woman.”

Sighing, you felt a sense of dread in your heart; both for your thoughts, and also how your husband would react. So, you tried your best to explain it.

“Do you even wonder how you will be remembered?” You began. “Spoken from mouths? Written in books? Painted on walls? They’ll remember Lucius, the Lost Son, the Last Gladiator…What will they remember of me, if anything? Rome’s Cleopatra? Her Delight? A whore to the twin emperors? I like to fantasize that they will name me the first woman who sat upon the emperor’s throne, even if it was as the last of its consul. Yet, even if they name me…I will be Julia. The name of a slave, the name I only accepted when he would press me into the bed so roughly. I only survived because I would need to tell myself that he was doing all of it to Julia, not to me.”

It felt quieter in that room, even though the sounds outside did not cease. Lucius gently turned your body towards him, and he stroked your face with the back of his hand.

“You’re crying,” he uttered your name, frowning.

You wiped your eyes, wanting to hide from him. Yet, he did not allow it, pulling your hands away from you and wrapping them around his shoulders.

“Would you wish I remain silent, or share with you what is in my head?” He asked.

“Talk to me.” You answered.

“I never cared of what history would see of me.” He stated. “Even as a boy. I know that we are different in most aspects of life, but I believe it serves no one to wonder away how we will be viewed long after we are dead. I do not care if or what a stranger thinks of me in a lifetime later. I care how Atticus and Diana see me. I care what their children think. Above all, I care of what you see me to be.”

You pressed your head against his. “You’re pigheaded and quite foolish sometimes.”

“And it matters you say that.” He pulled you closer. “Because that is what you will tell others when I pass on.”

“You know I don’t think that is all you are.” You remined him.

“I do.” He nodded. “I will know you for your wit, and your protective nature, and your kindness.”

“I never truly thought of myself as kind.” You gave a pained smile.

“That is how I see you.” He kissed your brow. “And what I will say with my last dying breath.”

You wondered how such a man as himself could exist at the same time you did. A man who hated you prior to everything yet laid with you in bed. A man who treated you with a tenderness you never thought possible.

A man who could be the last person on earth with you, and you would only feel at peace.

You did not need to say anything to him. Simply by the innocent smile that spread across your lips, did he know. You fell into the most comfortable of silences together as you laid naked in the summer heat.

The both of you were lost to time as we all shall be one day.

Perhaps you lived on that farm for the rest of your days, or perhaps you moved to a different land.

Perhaps you had ten children, perhaps you had only one, or perhaps you had none and were content with each other’s company.

Perhaps you died before him, perhaps he died before you, or perhaps you both passed onto the Elysian fields together.

All that truly matters, at the end of all things, is the life the two of you led together, and what you and loved ones remembered the most of it.

[kashverse]

Hello!

Im really interested in Choso’s and YN relationship in you Parents AU (that’s what I’m calling it at least). Poor man could use a break from the chaos that is babykuna.

I was wondering if you could write something YN helping him relax after a day of babysitting Sukuna kids. It looks like it’s a lot for him.

what the hell happened with the babies of the gojo and sukuna household? → read here !! what the hell are the cats listening to? → read here !!

choso does not get paid enough for this. in fact, he does not get paid at all. and while he loves his niece—his little princess, his munchkin—he is still just a man. and by that, he means that he has a limit.

today’s adventures in babysitting included two crying toddlers, an overdramatic maine coon mourning the chaos of his life, a tabby cat that looked ready to commit war crimes, and sukuna popping a tylenol like it was a tic tac. he does not know why babytoru and babykuna were beefing over a slide, he just knows that he was the one left carrying a screaming, sand-covered babytoru back to her father while babykuna sniffled against her own dad’s leg, refusing to apologize. and after all of that, after an entire day of unpaid labor, choso finally drags himself home—shoes scuffed, hoodie covered in child fingerprints, mentally and emotionally drained—and nearly drops to his knees in pure joy when he sees you sitting in his living room.

you, his beautiful, ethereal girlfriend, sitting cross-legged on his couch, home after weeks of being away on jobs, looking like a dream. he barely even has the strength to speak, just lets out a breath of relief, shuffling towards you like a war veteran returning home. “long day?” you murmur, cradling an espresso cup in one hand like the wise, all-knowing woman that you are, watching him with mild amusement as he melts onto the couch beside you, face buried in your lap.

“i don’t know how i survived,” he mumbles into the fabric of your sweatpants, clinging to your thighs like a lifeline. “they were fighting. over a slide. babykuna pushed babytoru, she landed face-first in the sand, ruined her ‘loo-wiss vuhee vu-ton’ dress, and then they both started crying.” you hum in understanding, carding your fingers through his hair while taking a slow sip of your espresso. “ah, yes. the pride of youth.”

he groans. “it wasn’t pride. it was war.”

“you are but a man,” you agree sagely.

“i am but a man.” he sighs, body going limp. “but at least i have you.”

choso nuzzles deeper into your lap as if hoping you’ll absorb all the pain from today. you, his beautiful, always-on-the-go girlfriend, who has been hopping between countries for photoshoots and runway shows for weeks now, are finally home, blessing him with your presence. and oh, how he needs it.

“you look nice,” he mumbles against your thigh, voice muffled but full of reverence. “haven’t seen you in sweats in forever. usually, you’re in those fancy dresses or some… couture thing.” you smirk, taking a slow sip of your espresso. “i do wear normal clothes, you know.”

“do you?” he deadpans, lifting his head just enough to meet your gaze. “last time you were here, you had a suitcase full of silk and cashmere.”

“a woman has needs.” you shrug.

“my need is you.” he grumbles, arms tightening around your waist. “in sweats. forever.”

you chuckle, setting your cup down to comb through his hair. “well, lucky you. i’m not leaving for another week.” his grip immediately tightens. “a week?”

“a whole week.”

he groans, melting against you like butter on toast. “best news i’ve heard all day.”

“better than the cats liking ‘creep’ by radiohead?”

“by far.”

you pat his head, the ultimate seal of approval. “now, do you want to keep complaining, or do you want me to kiss you until you forget the traumatic events of today?”

he doesn’t even hesitate. “kiss. immediately.”

[lascvitae]

♯┆get along better .ᐟ

synopsis. you and megan were like two peas in a pod. wherever one went, the other would always follow. it had been that way forever. but once you began to stray away from megan’s arms and fall into daniela’s, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

pairing(s). daniela x fem!reader x megan genre. fluff, angst (i’m sorry) warning(s). cursing, making out, megan isn’t a VERY good best friend, reader’s mother is eh…

word count: 4.9k (not proofread)

“but now i get along better with your friend.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ katty ᥫ᭡: posting this at such a bad time BUT i wrote this for my bae @jsxjmn ngl i’ve been losing SOO much sleep over this fic omg, i didn’t prepare for it to be this long (still making a part two btw) but i hope you like it!! also sorry for the angst i literally breathe angst okay sorry bye 🙈🙈 i lowk cried while writing this it was tew real

masterlist.

2 days before megan left.

the day started out like any other. it was another regular wednesday and you were making your way downstairs after getting dressed for school.

“goodmorning, miss l/n!” you heard megan before you reached the last stair, yawning to show how sleepy you still were. “goodmorning, my dear. hopefully you’ll get an email today.” your mother winked at the girl, eliciting a light giggle.

megan was your best friend of fourteen years, and you’ve celebrated every single milestone with her. she was part of your family at this point with how often she was around.

but your feelings for her exceeded the friend limit — all of the time that you spent together eventually led to your feelings becoming stronger than ever. but you were almost completely sure that she didn’t feel the same.

why was that? because recently she had been distant. she could go hours — even days on end without responding to you, practically ghosting you. then she would return with the same excuse. “i was busy.”

and you allowed her back in every single time.

“y/n! you look so cute!” megan chirped with her mouth full. there was a cream cheese bagel in her dominant hand so you could only assume that’s what she was eating.

you smiled at the compliment, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie. it was a feeling that only megan would give you.

“thank you, megan.” you closed your eyes as she fixed your hair for you. “is that my hoodie?” she asked. the close proximity of your bodies allowed for you to smell her perfume, leaving you feeling dizzy.

“maybe.” you responded sheepishly, opening your eyes to meet her beautiful ones. her smile was infectious, poisoning your entire heart with laughter. “that’s where it went!”

your mother handed megan the matching water bottles that you two had, reminding you of her presence. “don’t forget to hydrate, girls. especially you, megan. you work so hard that it worries me.” megan hugged your mother tightly. “you’re the kindest, miss l/n!”

“i wish y/n was more like you.” you rolled your eyes at her statement. your mother was buttering her up again so that she could stay around this time. you knew it all too well. but a part of you wished that you were more like megan as well. you adored her.

“let’s go before we’re late.” she took your hand, practically dragging you out of the doorway. she could sense the shift in your mood and so she wanted to do everything to make it better. “we won’t have time to stop at dunkin if you keep walking so slow.”

─────────

the coffee that megan purchased for you was the only thing that was getting you through the day, along with the doodles she left on your cup before you walked inside of the school building.

you had been yawning all day, lost in thought of what you were going to do for your final art project.

one moment you were in your head and the next you were on the floor rubbing your head.

“shit, sorry! are you okay?” you heard the voice ask before you looked up, taking the girl’s hand. she leaned down to pick up your water bottle and your gaze followed, getting a peek of the hem to the calvin klein boxers that hugged her hips.

you had just ran into daniela.

she had a concerned expression on her face while you stood up, holding your hand for a moment longer than needed.

“i’m fine.” you muttered, taking the water bottle back into your own hands. “are you?” she exhaled, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “i’m okay, y/n. don’t worry about me.” she instantly recognized the hoodie you wore as megan’s.

the silence was awkward. you and daniela didn’t talk much unless either of you needed something — most likely due to you ranting about megan, and you only knew her for two reasons. she was megan’s best friend and captain of the cheerleading team.

that was something you usually stood clear of due to the attention that it brought. a canvas and brush was more of your thing, rather than a cheer and some pom-poms. you never really liked basketball or football either.

so you and daniela were from two different worlds, but you shared conversation solely because of megan.

you sat next to her in chemistry class during junior year and that was when you really began to consider her a friend. or at least more than an acquaintance.

“what class do you have? i’ll walk you.” she offered with her infamous charming smile. she was basically everyone’s crush for obvious reasons.

“it’s a free period for me, actually. i’m gonna work on my final project for art.” you explained, tugging on your lower lip.

“really? can i see?” she asked in an excited tone. daniela was the type of friend who you didn’t talk to everyday but you could depend on. she never got a real chance to see your artwork but it was something that she looked forward to.

you couldn’t deny her request because of how it visibly piqued her interest. “sure, why not?” you shrugged.

─────────

once the clock hit 2:05 and the ringing of the bell you dreaded so badly followed behind, you practically leapt out of your seat and traversed through the halls towards student parking.

all types of chatter filled the hallways and you skillfully avoided a variety of people, adjusting your headphones so you could continue to drown everything out.

you were mouthing the lyrics to the song playing in your ears until someone suddenly grabbed your shoulder. with your eyebrows furrowed, you were ready to tell them off until you saw who it was.

it was daniela.

your expression immediately softened and you uncovered one ear so that you could hear her clearly. “dani? did you need anything?” her heart skipped a beat with the way you said her name.

“nah. i was just wondering if you were busy?” while it was unusual for her to be asking you to hangout, it wasn’t the first time.

you tried to fight back your smile, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie. “the only thing i had planned was to work on my project some more.” her smile widened at the mention of your work.

“can i come over? or is there only enough seats for you and meg?” the mention of megan made you remember that she was probably waiting for you right now. and as if on cue, your phone buzzed with an incoming text message.

reaching for your phone from your back pocket, you confirmed that it was megan texting you. “no, it’s fine.” you started. “just come over whenever. you have my number.” you explained with a smile, shoving your phone into your hoodie.

“but i’ve gotta go. see you later, kay?” the conversation ended there and it left you with a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. even though it was nearing graduation, you were looking forward to becoming closer to daniela.

little did you know, she was feeling the same.

─────────

as soon as you climbed into the passenger seat of megan’s car you were met with the barely concealed excitement of the girl.

“what? what!” you asked as she just stared at you, squealing quietly. you smiled, letting out a breathless chuckle. “tell me, megan!”

“okay okay okay!” she moved her hair from out of her face, taking a deep bresth to flush down the excitement. “remember how i told you about how i’ve been emailing different companies?” you nodded along, feeling her take your hands into her own.

“sergio hudson wants to feature my design in LA fashion week!” she squealed out, practically bouncing with excitement. “this is big news, babe!” you had no idea who these important names were but if it meant a lot to megan, it meant a lot to you.

for the entire time of your friendship, megan had shown the most interest in fashion and graphic design. there had been multiple occasions where she even had you model her pieces for her.

“you did? that’s great, megan!” you cheered, allowing her to pull you into a tight hug and pepper kisses all over your face. it was slightly uncomfortable with how you were bent over the console but you didn’t mind it.

she was nearly crying tears of joy with the opportunity provided to her. “i couldn’t have done it without you, precious.” she finally pulled away, giving you room to breathe. it felt like your heart would burst through your chest if she continued.

“you’re my muse, y/n.” that wasn’t the first time you heard those words but it felt like it was. with megan, everything felt like the first time. “you have to come with me.”

“what?”

“your mom will understand! i know she will. i don’t — i can’t go without you.” the distance between the two of you grew, scaring both sides. “please.” her voice had dropped to a whisper and nothing could be heard other than anxious breathes and the chatter of people around the car.

“i… i don’t know. LA?” you stammered, throat suddenly going dry. you had never flown before. let alone across the country. “it’s not that far.”

“that’s across the country, megan.” you protested, furrowing your eyebrows. “only for a bit! it’ll only be a week.” all of your complaints went in one ear and out of the other. she was set on persuading you.

your eyes widened. “a week? megan, my art project is due by the end of this month. i can’t waste a week like that!” she huffed with a low spirit. “it won’t be a waste. you’re going to be with me.”

“i can’t do it.” you declared, looking away. megan fell back in her seat in response, swallowing her disappointment. “you know, y/n. if the roles were reversed i’d come with you in a heartbeat.”

the statement made your stomach turn. “megan—“ she interrupted you, crossing her arms. “no, y/n. you’re supposed to be my best friend.” her words hung in the air, choking you with the amount of tension they brought.

“i should be saying that.” your voice broke near the end of the sentence. “don’t pull that card on me, y/n. you know i’ve been bu—“ she raised her hand, retracting it once you interrupted her this time around.

“i’m only your best friend when it benefits you. it’s unfair. it’s unfair how you can go days without talking to me then come back to me like nothing happened. it’s unfair how i’m worried sick about you and you take hours to respond. it’s unfair how i’m putting in so much more effort than you are and yet my mother still picks you over me.” you began to rant.

“and it’s unfair how even after all of this i’m still in love with—“ you stopped yourself, freezing in place. megan’s eyes were wide, realization dawning upon her. hastily wiping your tears away, you excused yourself. “i’m just — i’m just gonna go.”

you reached for the door handle, leaving as quickly as you could and ignoring megan’s call for you.

you walked mindlessly through the parking lot, desperately wiping at your tears and starting to steady your breathing. you had just confessed to megan, and you could still hear her calling for you.

your friendship was over, you thought. no, you were sure of it. you and megan never argued. you lost your one and only best friend.

suddenly, you felt a strong force grab your shoulder and spin you around. “god, y/n. i’ve been calling your name for ages.” the sweet and familiar voice spoke. daniela. “do you have your headphones—“

daniela noticed the faucet in your eyes, face immediately sewn with concern. “are you crying? what happened?” she released the grip on your shoulder, awaiting some kind of response.

you instinctively hugged her with shaky hands, sobbing into her chest. she was always there whenever you needed her.

“woah, y/n. talk to me. do you wanna talk?” the embrace was hesitantly reciprocated, trying to calm you down with soothing circles to your back. once you didn’t weigh up a response she decided to take you to a more secluded area.

“we’re gonna go to my car, okay? is that alright?”

1 day before megan left.

you haven’t talked to megan since yesterday and she hasn’t made any attempts at conversation with you either.

daniela was worried about you — she refused to leave your side until she truly believed that you were okay.

you set your headphones around your neck while walking downstairs, trying to ignore the fact that you would have to see megan at school.

“morning mom.” you forced a smile and while your mother may have bought it, it was likely that no one else would.

you carelessly set two strawberry poptarts into the toaster with a sigh, taking your phone out of your back pocket.

leaning against the counter as you scrolled through your notifications, you felt your heart drop for the nth time in less than twenty four hours. megan still hadn’t texted you.

you couldn’t do it. you wanted to crawl in bed and have megan wrap her arms around you like how she was supposed to.

“how is your project going, honey?” you heard your mother ask and you swallowed your tears, smiling once more as the toaster dinged to indicate that the poptarts were ready. “it’s going fine.” you answered, wrapping them in a paper towel.

“that’s good to hear.” she handed you the water bottle that matched your best friend’s. “is megan picking you up?”

the name tugged at your heart. “no, daniela is today.” you answered, shoving the water bottle away into the sides of your backpack. of course she’d ask about megan. she always would. “i’ll probably be home late.”

─────────

“i don’t think it goes this way.” you muttered as daniela fiddled with the lego pieces, concentration etched onto her face.

you sat down on a nearby stool, frowning from the soreness in your knees. daniela had to be feeling the same. “um, let’s just try it again later.” you offered.

daniela was so determined, trying multiple different options just to get it finished. she knew how badly you wanted to get it done and that was her ulterior motive. along with wanting to cheer you up, of course.

megan had purchased you the paris lego set ages ago but had been too busy to build it with you. and after the argument, you weren’t sure if it was ever going to be done. so, daniela offered after dance practice.

daniela let out a sigh. “i’m hungry anyway.” she placed the piece she was holding, then another. then another.

“dani!” you scolded yet there was a hint of playfulness in your tone. she laughed, sitting down at your desk. “fine! i’m done now.” you shook your head.

the almost half finished eiffel tower sat on a table that you two had dragged to the middle of your workroom. it was where you spent most of your time.

all sorts of things were scattered around. paintbrushes, markers, acrylics, watercolors — you name it. if there was one thing you loved to do, it was experiment.

megan even had a fashion mannequin in the corner of the room, and when your eyes landed upon it, the events replayed in your head.

daniela spinned around in your desk chair, tapping the armrests as she glanced around. “did you do all of this?” she asked, referring to the diverse paintings dispersed across the walls.

“yeah.” you shrugged and her eyebrows raised in awe. her attention focused back onto the scrapped drawings on your desk, looking through them. “these are really good.” she mumbled.

receiving attention from her made you shy but you tried to hide the fact. “thanks.” you smiled, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie.

“is this meg—“ you cleared your throat, standing up from your seat and reaching for the lamp that was providing light for you and daniela. “hey, you said you were hungry right?” she could barely see the drawing anymore but there was no need. she knew that it was megan.

─────────

“look at that cloud. it looks like a cat.” daniela pointed from the trunk of her car, taking a sip of her boba. your eyes followed her finger, giggling as you made out the animal. “i see it.”

the sunset was gorgeous and you couldn’t resist the urge to take out your phone to snap a photo. daniela set down her cup, smiling at you. “you gonna paint this later?” shoving your phone back into your pocket, you took another bite of your sushi while shaking your head.

“it was too pretty, but i’ve gotta finish my project first.” her smile widened. “you’ve gotta let me see.” her voice was so soft and genuine that you had to give in.

“you still haven’t talked to megan?” you were preparing yourself for the question but not for how you would answer it.

“no. i don’t know if she needs some time or if we’re done.” you shrugged, staring at the sunset. you could feel daniela’s eyes burning holes into your side profile and it gave you a unusual feeling.

daniela hummed, copying your posture of leaning back onto her hands. it felt weird to be seeing her in such a relaxed manner, you were so used to seeing her cheer.

she was content because you were.

“i’m here for you. you know that?” daniela spoke quietly, looking back at the sunset. the silence that surrounded you both was comforting and unfamiliar.

“we have a game tomorrow night. you should come.” she offered and your heartbeat began to accelerate. basketball wasn’t necessarily your interest, nor was football.

“it’s our last game. and you’ve been working nonstop. it’s a miracle i even got you out of the house.” she held her knees, chuckling softly.

you wanted to say no but it was an opportunity to hang out with daniela. how could you?

“okay, i’ll be there.” you nodded.

─────────

the game didn’t start making much sense to you until halftime. more people began to arrive and daniela was giving you a rundown of how basketball games worked. she had your attention all game, so you forgot that you were even supposed to be watching the players on the court.

you were trying to stay focused. you kept staring at the way her lips moved with certain syllables and you suddenly you were reminded of how pretty she was. had she always looked like this?

“and after halftime the goals switch. y/n, are you listening, love?” she snapped in front of your face, laughing breathily.

“yeah, i was listening.” you smiled, handing her the grape powerade that you had purchased for her at the concession stand. she stole a nacho off of your plate and popped it into her mouth.

“you’re basically a basketball connoisseur now. i know, i’m so great at explaining things.” she flipped her hair and you playfully shoved her shoulder in response.

“i’m just here for you. and you suck at explaining, by the way.” you bit into a soggy nacho, following her back to the space on the bleachers that you were sitting at.

“better than you. when you tried to explain anything to me in chemistry i was so confused.” she joked, sitting next to you as she continued to dine off your plate.

“that’s just because you suck at science, dani.” you rolled your eyes, holding the nachos out while she ate. there wasn’t much time on the clock left and she was stuffing her face now.

you giggled at how cute she was, making your heart feel a certain way that no one else ever had before.

no one else but megan.

“go out there!” you nudged her as she tried to fit as many nachos in her mouth as she could, shaking your head in disapproval. “they’ll be here when you get back.” that was the truth. they were too soggy for your taste.

daniela smiled at you with chubby cheeks, a smudge of cheese on the corner of her lips. “wait!” you searched around for the napkin, leaning forward and wiping it away.

the action made daniela’s cheeks turn a shade of red, smile widening uncontrollably as she watched you with sparkles in her eyes. “thank you, love.”

you tugged onto your lower lip. “break a leg, miss dani.” she blew you a kiss while skipping backwards, walking over to her spot.

─────────

once the game finally ended, you were waiting patiently for daniela to put sweatpants over her cheer uniform so that she wasn’t too cold.

“what do you have a taste for, y/n?” she asked as she tied the drawstrings and slipped the skirt off afterwards. this was the daniela you preferred. comfortable and relaxed.

“whatever. i’ll eat anything.” you shrugged, shoving the skirt into her cheer bag so that she didn’t have to.

she jumped down, taking the bag from your hand and searching for her keys. once she located them you two were on the way to her parked car.

─────────

“see? way better than those nasty ass nachos.” daniela rolled her eyes as she took a bite of her calzone. “they weren’t even that bad.”

you scoffed as you swallowed the portion of your pasta. “the cheese literally tasted like plastic. and the nachos were so soggy.” your complaining only made daniela roll her eyes again.

her sky blue phone was positioned with both of you in the frame, recording the whole conversation.

“like… i feel like that was the remains of a nuclear explosion —“ you continued and she bursted into laughter, slapping your shoulder to shut you up.

“my god! it wasn’t even that bad!” you both giggled as she went for another bite of her calzone. “at least your pasta is good.”

you nodded, humming to back up the statement even further. “it’s so good. you wanna try it?” once you offered she set her own food to the side, nodding her head.

you gathered a generous amount of pasta onto the fork, preparing to feed it to daniela. “ready?” you asked her, making eye contact as you held the fork up.

everything after that happened so quickly that you barely even knew how to react. she leaned over the console, taking ahold of your chin and softly pressing her lips against yours.

the overwhelming urge to hold and protect you coursed throughout her veins, deepening the kiss and pulling you even closer.

once you realized what was happening you met her kiss with fervor, surrendering completely to the feeling of her lips.

her hands roamed your back, arms, anywhere that she could reach, and she’s positive that she’s never felt so possessive and protective over anyone before.

it was different than any kiss she’s ever shared. it was slow and intimate, making the entire situation even more intense.

the moment you broke the kiss you found company in eachother’s gaze, chests heaving with weighty breaths.

“it tastes good.” she shrugged as if she weren’t devouring your lips moments before.

“i’m glad.” you laughed breathlessly. “can… can we kiss again?” you spoke up sheepishly, tugging on the sleeves of your hoodie.

she chose to answer your question with another kiss, silencing any further questions.

0 days before megan left.

daniela woke you up with light taps to your jaw, face contorting into the brightest smile once you finally opened your eyes.

“goodmorning, cariño.” she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, turning around to grab the tray that was behind her.

“i made you breakfast!” you gasped, sitting up and examining the plate that she had prepared for you. “oh my god, are you a chef?” she poured the syrup over the pancakes for you, even cutting them to make it easier.

“eat up, babe.” she kissed your cheek before standing up straight. “i’ll be back. i’m getting your drink, kay?” you nodded in response, sighing contentedly as you stared down at the feast before you.

ready to dig in, you were interrupted by the buzzing of your phone. what you didn’t expect was the notification before you.

well, you did expect the notifications from your mother. she was most likely worried if you were okay or not.

you nearly dropped your phone into the breakfast daniela made for you, heartbeat accelerating as if someone pressed a button. megan finally sent you a text.

‘are u busy? can we talk?’

you bit your bottom lip due to nervousness, avoiding opening up the message because you had on read receipts.

suddenly, your appetite was completely gone.

you wanted your best friend back, yes, but you were terrified of what she was going to say. you weren’t sure if she hated you after your confession or if she wanted to end the friendship here for good.

either way, you were frightened of the possibility.

daniela came back upstairs with a glass of orange juice and plate of her own. “here.” her arm reached out and she almost immediately noticed the look on your face, climbing in bed next to you.

“what is it?” she asked curiously, stealing a bite of your scrambled eggs. you playfully sucked your teeth at her actions, turning to look at her. “what?”

“megan texted me.” daniela gasped, moving closer towards you. “are you okay? what’d she say?”

you showed her the notification, taking the glass of orange juice and chugging it with haste.

“are you going to?” she watched you chug the glass with concern, taking it from you. “slow down, mi amor…” you set the plate down on the opposite end of her bed, climbing out and making your way to the bathroom.

“y/n.” daniela followed you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “you can’t avoid her forever. she’s your childhood best friend.”

“she was.” you quickly corrected, splashing your face with water. “no, y/n.” daniela sighed. “you’re still best friends. one argument can’t get rid of that.”

even if you tried to ignore her words you knew that they held some value in them.

“she probably hates me now. i’m only her best friend when she wants me to be.” you scoffed, staring at daniela’s face in the mirror.

“i’m serious.” daniela tried to convince you, returning your gaze. “i know she doesn’t hate you.”

“because i’m starting to see why she’s so crazy in love with you.”

─────────

it was around ten pm when you raised your hand to knock on the front door to megan’s house, sucking in a breath as you prepared yourself to face her.

you tried to ignore the negative thoughts and push them to the back of your mind, knocking on the wooden door.

it didn’t take long for megan to answer the door, fiddling with her fingers. you could see the suitcase sitting behind her frame as she stepped out, clearing her throat and closing the door behind her.

“hey.” she mumbled, looking down at her hands. you could tell that she was nervous with how she kept fiddling with her fingers and avoiding your gaze.

“hi.” you smiled, stepping aside to give her room to stand on the porch. it was silent for a minute and you assumed that she was collecting her thoughts.

“um. i’m sorry. for how i’ve been acting and how i spoke to you. i kinda overreacted.” she sniffled. “and um, i think i know why.” she continued. you stayed silent, listening to her speak.

“you drive me insane — not just because you’re my closest friend and the person i practically center my whole heart around, but there’s more to it.”

her hand reached out to softly grab yours, finally looking into your eyes. the way that the sun was hitting her face made it slightly difficult to see the tears forming in her eyes but you could still make them out.

“i love you y/n. more than friends, i think. i think i’m falling for you. you’re the only one who’s ever saw me for me.” it felt like your voicebox had been ripped out of body. you heard a loud familiar voice coming from inside of the house.

“meiyok! are you packed? we have to get to the airport.”

megan stepped backwards, wiping away the tears that finally spilled over. your throat was constricted by overwhelming thoughts that you couldn’t voice, trembling hands scratching at your shirt.

megan hugged you with so much force that you almost fell backwards, molding your frame against her own. “i love you, y/n. i’ll change for you if i need to.” her voice was thick with emotion, holding back even more tears that dared to escape.

“think about it, please? you’re my muse. i can’t lose you.” then she proceeded to peck your cheek, reluctantly letting you free and disappearing back into the house you didn’t feel welcome inside of anymore. you felt as though you were being drowned.

the sound of the door shutting brought you back to your senses, tasting the saltiness of your own tears and standing there, chasing after megan’s after image.

and that was it. she was leaving for LA at twelve am.

the first thing that you could think of was to call daniela to come rescue you.

perm taglist — @saysirhc @aedollie @prologue-ae

[crowsofdarkness]

Just For Tonight: Part Two

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Content Warnings: 18+ smut which includes spanking, voyeurism, oral with male and female receiving, protected p in v with reader being on birth control, anal, and m/f/m relations.

Summary: Steve lets you live out your secret fantasy. Just for tonight.

Authors Note: This is basically porn with some plot. Read Part One first.

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @bookofriverr

-this is not connected to my other Stucky fic Ménage a Trios-

The bright rays from the sun broke through the curtains of my bedroom, casting our bare bodies in a warmth I’d been desperate for nearly all my life. I thought the two warm bodies were enough for me but I’d been wrong; there was only one warm body next to me, one that felt familiar. The other, unfamiliar one, had been long gone. His spot on the bed was almost cold to the touch. 

Raising my head from Steve’s chest, I peered over to the other side of the bed where I expected to see Bucky asleep but was only met with rumpled sheets. I furrowed my brows with confusion, doing my best to ignore the stinging pain in my heart when I realized he’d left sometime in the night. Something he said he wouldn’t do. 

Seeing Steve was still asleep, I gently rolled over behind me to reach for my phone on the nightstand quickly working out a text to Bucky. 

Me: Where’d you go? 

I tapped my phone on the mattress for a few moments, waiting for his reply, but was met with silence. Just as I was about to send another text, Steve’s calloused fingers grazed over my bare stomach as he pulled me into his chest. 

“Morning, honey,” his voice was muffled by my hair. 

I hummed with a smile. “Good morning. Sleep well?” 

I felt him nod behind me. “Best night of sleep I’ve had in a while. How about you? Are you doing alright after last night?” 

Last night.  

Both of their cocks worked in spreading me wide for them. The room filled with the scent of all three of us, tangling together with the tellings of our ever growing affair. Some might have thought this was wrong but it felt so right; so free.

Blinking away the thoughts of last night, I turned over in Steve’s arms to place a tender kiss on his lips. 

“I’m good. What about you?” I asked while trailing my finger over his cheek. 

There was this lingering fear that he would have woken up today with regret for what happened last night. Yet the love that sparkled in Steve’s eyes told me otherwise. 

“Surprisingly good,” he let out a low chuckle, hands grazing over my back. “I’m upset I can’t stay here in bed with you all day but duty calls.” 

I frowned, remembering he had to go help train some new recruits. Stve would most likely be gone all morning and afternoon, meaning I’d be alone in the house with Bucky. 

All three of us were roommates and prior to last night, I usually didn’t mind staying alone in the house with Bucky. We’d pass the time reading together. Steve never had to worry about his girlfriend and bestfriend hanging out together alone. 

Yet now, things were different. Something I feared. 

“You can’t stay?” I jutted out my bottom lip while rolling on top of him so I could straddle him. 

Those bright eyes trailed over the purple marks that littered my neck, down to my breasts, and even the bite marks from last night that were forever etched into my skin. His fingers pinched my perky nipples and I let my head fall back in bliss. 

“I can’t, honey. I have to get up and get ready.”

His hand now gripped the back of my neck to pull me down to him, ravaging my lips with his own. 

I moaned into the kiss, letting his familiar taste linger on my tongue as I rubbed my already wet folds up and down his growing cock. The kiss was messy and needy, telling me Steve was desperate for this from the moment he opened his eyes. 

“I need to get up,” he said in between kisses. 

“You don’t even have five minutes for me?” I teased him, leaving kisses across his neck. 

Faint curses fell from his lips when I reached down between us, palming his cock. I knew I was still sticky and dirty from last night, never finding the energy to get up and shower, but it didn’t seem to bother Steve. With fingers wrapped around him, I guided myself down onto his cock and moaned out in pleasure. He always felt so good inside of me. 

“Y/N,” he sighed just before our lips clashed again, this time slower. 

It matched the pace of our thrust, both wanting to take time we didn’t have with each other. My breasts were pressed against his chest as Steve held me tighter, his strokes long as he dragged himself nearly all the way out, now only fucking me with the head of his cock. 

My cries of pleasure were drowned out by the noise of the headboard smacking against the wall, Bucky's words from last night suddenly ringing in my head. 

“This is what I would hear every fucking night. Imagining this scene in front of me; although seeing now, it’s much better than what I thought.”

“Honey,” Steve’s voice brought me back and I gazed down at him, cupping his cheek. 

The look in his eyes was one I immediately recognized, so I urged him on with a nod. 

“I’m so close too, Stevie. Let go.”

Both of our bodies stilled for a moment as I clenched around his cock with my release as he spilled inside of me. It was nothing compared to the rawness I felt from him last night, this time it was softer. I collapsed on top of him and Steve brushed away the strands of hair from my face so he could place a kiss on my forehead. 

“Dinner tonight?” 

I smiled into his chest and gave an eager nod. “I would love that.”

Whatever worry I had if things between us changed because of last night were quickly swept away. He meant what he said that regardless of what happened, he would still feel the same about me. He wouldn’t allow last night to affect us. 

I, however, would soon realize that I was unable to keep that same promise.

Three hours later, I was dressed in a yellow bikini and trotted down the stairs towards the back yard. After Steve left to meet Tony at the Avengers compound, I allowed myself another hour of sleep before getting up to shower and decide to get something productive done. 

The house had been quiet all morning which confused me because Bucky always seemed to make some kind of noise as he stalked throughout whether it was his bed creaking as he got up in the morning or his voice lingering in the walls. Yet this morning, it was as if he was a ghost roaming the halls. 

After grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and connecting my phone to the outdoor bluetooth speaker, I stepped out into the blazing sun ready for an afternoon of sunbathing. It was a random off day for me so I planned on relaxing in an effort to forget about last night. 

My plans were halted when I saw the lean body of Bucky already outside, mowing the lawn. His body glistened with sweat from the sun and I squeezed my legs together at the sight. He looked God-like and memories of how his cock felt in my mouth made it water, wanting another taste. I knew I should go back inside to ignore him, especially since he ignored my text earlier this morning, but instead I set my things down on the lawn chair, quickly immersing myself into the book I’d brought out. 

Ignoring Bucky only lasted for a few minutes because as he turned with the mower, ready to come back the way he came, he froze when his eyes landed on my body laid out on the chair. My book was long forgotten as I felt his burning gaze travel over the material of my bikini, resting over the swell of my breasts the longest. 

Neither of us said a word, unable to form the right thought because of how intense the battle was raging inside of us. It was wrong of us to have our gazes linger on places that didn’t belong to us but the gray shorts Bucky wore left little to the imagination. 

What imagination? You saw his dick last night.

I nearly choked when the thought plowed through me and Bucky raised a brow. 

“Everything alright?” He wondered, the lawn mower still idling. 

Running my sweaty hands over my thighs, I did my best to nod, which seemed to be enough for him because Bucky was about to start mowing the lawn again. That was until my words made his shoulders go rigid. 

“You left,” I let out a broken breath, my heart weighing heavy with his broken promise. 

Bucky ran a hand through his sweat slicked hair, those ocean eyes all encompassing as they drank in the sight of me in my bikini yet again before falling into the chair beside me. 

“What did you want me to do, Y/N? Stay and pretend that this will work out between the three of us? You’re dating my best friend, you have been for years. It’s not right for me to want you; I can’t want you.”

“So we’re just supposed to pretend that last night didn’t happen? I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do that,” I admitted while pulling my knees close to my chest. 

Bucky snorted, eyes slicing into me. “It sure sounded like you moved on from last night with the moises you were making this morning.” 

I blinked for a moment, suddenly realizing what he was talking about. 

“You heard?” 

“Of course I did, doll! Super soldier hearing. Do you not realize I hear you and Steve every time he fucks you? I hear the way you moan for him, cry out for him, while I sit there wishing it was me? It’s been years of torture!” 

Bucky ran an aggravated vibranium hand over his jaw, doing his best to keep his composure. 

“I-I didn’t know,” I admitted quietly under my breath yet I knew he heard me. 

“Of course you didn’t. Because you were too busy wrapped up in your perfect life with Steve to see anything else," Bucky's knees bounced rapidly. 

This was not how I imagined the morning after to go. The delusional part of me thought that we’d all wake up together and figure out the complex parts of our relationship together. But it was clear that it was wrong of me to think that way. 

“So what are you saying, Bucky?” I scoffed. “You’re telling me you don't want me but yet, rambling on about how you wish it was you. You’re not making any sense.” 

“Forget it,” he waved me off, casting his gaze over towards the end of the yard where he’d been previously watering all of my fruits and vegetables I’d been growing the last few months, the hose still extended all throughout the yard. 

Gathering my things, I slowly rose from the lawn chair and motioned inside. “I should start getting ready. Steve is taking me to dinner tonight.” 

Somber eyes landed on me for a beat and it was as if Bucky's feelings were bleeding out yet unable to correctly voice them. Instead, he let out a grunt of disapproval as he rose to his feet, beginning to move past me. Both of us trying to maneuver around each other was a hassle and I managed to trip over the hose, only seconds away from smacking my face on the concrete until strong arms wrapped around me. 

But the force of the fall managed to take both Bucky and I down to the grass, him landing on top of me. The pain was nothing compared to the feeling on his chest on top of mine or his cock as it pressed against my thigh, in between his legs. Our erratic breaths were synchronized, almost like our souls were slowly becoming, and when he brushed a hand over my face, I leaned into his warm touch. 

“Doll,” he breathed over my lips. “We can’t.”

“How am I supposed to forget you, Bucky? I can’t. Last night meant too much to forget,” I scratched my nails along his chest. 

Bucky shivered from my touch as his eyes fluttered shut, his cock pressing against my thigh and I swore I heard a quiet moan crawl through his throat. It was evident in the way he clenched his jaw that he was holding himself back, it pained him not to consume me right then and there. 

Our friendship was nothing more than a fading memory, this new and unsure future building a wall between us. 

“All I crave is you, doll. I want every part of you,” his teeth grazed over my neck, leaving a tiny red mark just above one Steve had left this morning.

Then his tongue dragged over the valley between my breasts, his finger ghosting over the thin material that hid my perky nipples.  “But I can’t do that to steve.” 

Before I knew what was happening, Bucky pushed himself off of me to retreat inside of the house. I gazed up at the suddenly dark sky, an incoming storm about to ravage the neighborhood, and couldn’t stop as I let out a groan. 

“What the fuck did we do?”

"Oh Stevie," I moaned while arching my back off of the cool marble of the kitchen counter. 

His words were muffled as he continued to lap up at my pussy, devouring me all to himself. It was as if something was driving him to pleasure me in ways he'd never reached before. Although, I knew there was no need for him to be in this competition with himself. It was futile because he knew my body like a book he'd been studying for years. 

We’d returned from dinner moments ago to a dark and quiet house, Bucky texting Steve that he had a training session at the compound and he wouldn’t be home tonight. I knew that it was because he wanted to be far away from our date. Earlier in the yard had acted like a block in my mind all night as I tried to enjoy dinner with Steve, who could tell something was on my mind. I didn’t want to talk about it because I wasn’t sure how he would react with the moment between Bucky and I. It was made known that Steve knew how I’d always wanted Bucky sexually yet he didn’t know how my heart yearned for bucky. 

I loved Steve with my entire being. We planned a future together, we were each others forever, and I had no desire to change that because of one night of sexual frustrations. 

All the same, was it fair to my heart to try and ignore the way bucky slowly crept inside of it? It was big enough to share this same love with both of them, no?

So to take my mind off of whatever was plaguing it, Steve was quick to capture my lips in a heated kiss, dragging me into the kitchen without breaking it. 

“Need some dessert,” he mumbled against them before hoisting me up on the kitchen counter. 

Steve’s teeth grazed over my clit before his lips wrapped around it, sucking eagerly. His fingers worked in and out of my walls, fucking me closer to the edge I'd been hanging off of all day. Ever since this morning in the backyard with Bucky. 

You can' think of him right now. Think of your boyfriend, Steve. 

"That's it baby, cum for me. Soak my face," he demanded with a sharp bite to the inside of my thigh, slipping a third finger inside of me. 

His thumb rubbed erratic circles on my clit and my body felt frozen, unable to drop off the ledge. My orgasm was right there, so close I could smell my arousal dripping down my legs right before Steve's warm tongue licked it up. I raked my nails through his hair, grasping onto the long locks to bring his face closer to my clit. 

"'M so close. Don't stop." I practically begged. 

Was it wrong to do this in a space we shared with Bucky? Yes. Was it the first time? No. 

Although, it was the first time we’d done it with someone watching. 

Steve grunted, mouth now too busy for words. Yet, my attention was no longer on him but on the man standing in the doorway, shirtless with water dripping down his chest. It was apparent he’d just stepped out of the shower and the towel was hung low on his hips, the sunset from the large kitchen windows casting over his hard V line. Bucky made no noise, simply watched with black eyes as Steve's tongue and fingers took turns fucking me. 

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even give Steve a warning that Bucky was in fact not out; he was watching us with desire in his eyes. Just as I gathered the words on my tongue, ready to tell him, my head was rolled to the side as my orgasm began filling my veins. Half-lidded eyes watched as Bucky dropped the towel to the floor so he could wrap his vibranium hand around his thick cock, stroking it slowly; up and down, his thumb smearing the beads of precum around the tip, almost using it as lubricant. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he tried so hard to remain quiet, not wanting to give way to Steve that he was watching. He leaned an arm against the doorway, movements around his cock still fast, almost punishing. 

The sight of Bucky pleasuring himself to Steve who was eating me out like a man starved was exactly what I needed to finally jump off the cliff edge, my orgasm wrapping its arms around me to carry me to blissful euphoria. As I came down from my high, panties still hanging around my ankles and skirt hiked up over my stomach, Steve helped me sit up against the countertop and I made a mental note to disinfect the area. His rough hands spread my legs wide so he could step between them and I allowed him to bury his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent. 

“I love you so much, honey.” 

My eyes were glued to the man in the doorway still, Bucky's chest heaving as he nearly collapsed to his knees when he spilled himself all over his hand; the milky substance painting over his limp cock. I licked my lips at the unholy sight of him, ravenous for the taste of him again. I wanted it to linger on my lips as I kissed Steve so he knew how his best friend tasted. I wanted Bucky to fuck Steve’s cum into me. I wanted both of their seeds spilled down my throat. 

Simply put, I wanted both of them. 

Letting out a wavering breath, I ran my fingers through Steve’s hair and watched as Bucky snatched up the towel from the ground, not bothering to clean his hand as he stalked back up the stairs; my eyes never leaving the sight of his perk ass. 

“I love you too, Steve.”

Three days. 

Bucky had been avoiding me for three days and it felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest and stomped on repeatedly. True feelings aside, what hurt the most was that I lost my best friend. He’d ignore my texts asking if he wanted to watch a movie or if he wanted to go on a run together. I tried to understand where he was coming from, understand his feelings on the situation but everytime I did, it only made the lingering feelings of possible regret weigh heavy on my shoulders. 

I had to put my best fake smile on tonight because Steve invited everyone over for a little get together and we all were piled into the living room as music blared through the speakers. This was the first time I’d seen Bucky and the sight of him dressed in black pants and a matching shirt made my heart jump into my throat. His vibranium arm glinted underneath the red neon lights we had hung around the living room which in turn made my white sundress glow radiantly; Steve humming endearing yet naughty things in my ear all night while I sat in his lap. His hands would occasionally slink up underneath my dress to ghost over my pussy, wet with arousal from his words. It went undetected by everyone; well, almost everyone. 

Bucky's black eyes watched us, tracking every movement of Steve’s hands and lips as it nibbled on my ear. I giggled and dragged my nails over the exposed part of his chest, him opting to leave the first three buttons of his shirt undone. 

“I missed you last night. I need to feel you around my cock, honey," Steve purred in my ear. 

I sucked in a breath, admitting I missed him last night as well. “Why don’t we send everyone home and maybe take a dip in the hot tub?” 

His eyes sparkled even filled with darkness but simply tapped my thigh. “Soon.”

With a frown, I turned towards Clint, who had asked me a question, and conversed with him for a long while, every so often letting my eyes towards the man in the corner of the room. It seemed as if he’d been busy as well, talking with Natasha. As soon as she saw Bucky, she was attracted to him like a magnet. Although, I couldn’t say the same for him. 

“I need another drink,” Steve muttered before rising from the chair. 

Gently, I pushed him back down and stood while smoothing out my dress. “I’ll grab it. I want some more snacks anyway.”

Leaving him with a quick kiss, I walked into the kitchen and felt a warm presence behind me. Just as I turned to see who it was, Bucky wrapped his fingers around my elbow, dragging me into the small bathroom off of the hallway.

Darkness wrapped around us and our staggered breaths filled the tight space. My hand smacked the wall in an effort to find the switch but Bucky linked his fingers with mine, locking both hands against the bathroom counter. 

“Bucky,” I gasped. “What are you doing?” 

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could make out the faint lines of his face and nearly fell when I saw his pupils were blown wide with lust. 

“I heard you last night,” Bucky lifted my chin with his nose so he could leave a trail of feather-like kisses along my neck. 

My face reddened in the shadowy bathroom, knowing what he was talking about. Steve had spent the night at the Avengers Compound, going over the next mission with Tony. So it was only Bucky and I but we both kept ourselves locked in our bedrooms. I’d been left alone with one of my favorite dark romance books, one particular scene making me squirm with the need to know what it felt like to be blindfolded as a man ate me out. I tried to ignore the burn between my legs all night but even after my cold shower, it did nothing to help. So I laid spread out on mine and Steve’s bed with my black rose vibrator pressed hard against my clit and cried out with elation as I came. 

I swallowed thickly and gripped the edge of the counter behind me when he let my hands go. “I-I-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bucky hummed, the noise rumbling deep within his chest as his fingers slipped underneath my sundress, ghosting over my hip. One lone finger pressed inside of my cunt and I hastily reached for anything I could to grab a hold off. His scent was intoxicating, rendering me useless as his strokes were so fast, my knees began to buckle.

“Does Steve know you called out my name instead of his when you came?” 

The pleasure I’d been chasing vanished with his words and I angrily pushed back against Bucky, growing tired of his games. “Fuck you!” 

His vibranium  hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me flush against the door, it rattled behind me with the force of it while the other hand rested on my swollen mound, his fingers gathering the wetness over my panties. It was made known that I like sex rough so the feeling of his hands all over me made a pathetic whine fall from my lips. 

“You can lie all you want, doll,” Bucky murmured in my ear, still with a tight grip around my neck. “But I know you want this. Your pussy says otherwise.” 

How dare he act like it was me that didn’t want this? All I wanted was him. And steve. But it was Bucky that couldn’t get over his feelings of betrayal with Steve. 

I roughly pushed him away and flipped on the bathroom light, the room suddenly filled with the bright glow. Bucky stood there watching me with a preying gaze but I continued to stand tall against him. 

“Fuck you, Bucky! You’re such an asshole for playing these mind games. You can’t tell me that you crave me but then continue to push me away. You don’t get the right to tell me we can’t be together but then in the same breath touch me like this! You don’t get the best of both worlds.” 

“Y/N,” he stared, eyes softening, but I held up a hand to silence him.

“Go back to the party and Natasha who’s ready to open her legs for you because I’m done with the fucking mind games.”

Ignoring the burn in my throat, I stormed out of the bathroom toward the living room and to Steve, whose smile radiated the light in the darkness that was consuming me. But when he saw the flustered state I was in, he rose from his chair and was quick to bring me into his arms.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Steve wondered. 

I blew out a shaky breath while grasping onto the shirt on his back, desperately wishing that night didn’t happen. There was no way my friendship with Bucky would ever be the same. 

“I’m alright now. I just need you,” I admitted, burying my face into his chest. 

He kissed the top of my head before falling back into the chair with me on his lap again. 

“I’m right here, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere.” 

We sat there in our own bubble as our friends conversed, Steve’s hand grazing up and down my bare thigh. I allowed myself to retreat into the familiarity of his touch, letting it calm my racing thoughts. Yet when my eyes traveled over to the man across from us, my heart sank to the depths of my stomach. 

Natasha was now latched onto Bucky’s side, whispering something in his ear. Our eyes met finally and it was an intense battle of who would look away first, neither of us wanting to falter. I’d been consumed by Bucky that I missed the way Steve watched both of us, realization finally settling on his face

As I saw everyone out, Steve and Bucky separately retreat upstairs a while ago, I hung out in the doorway with Clint as we finished up our conversation. Thankfully, Natasha finally got the hint he wasn’t interested and left hours ago which was right after he sauntered up to his bedroom. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? You seemed kind of out of it tonight,” he noted while stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

I hesitated for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell Clint the truth. He’d been a good friend of mine for a few years now but there were still parts of my life I’d like to keep hidden from him. 

Yeah, like the threesome sex you had a few nights ago.

“Do you think it’s possible to love two people at once?” I nibbled on my bottom lip after glancing upstairs. 

Clint gave me a warm smile, squeezing my shoulder. “I think you and your heart already know the answer to that, Y/N.” 

While it wasn’t made known how the three of us felt for each other, it was clear to the others. Bidding him a good night, I shut the door and locked it. Exhaustion from the day ached my tired bones and I slowly climbed the stairs to my bedroom where I knew Steve was waiting for me. Passing Bucky's bedroom, I paused for a moment to peer inside the open door. His bed was unmade which was unlike him but the room was empty. Shrugging, I continued a few more steps before entering my room, nearly running back out from what I saw. 

Steve leaned against the dresser, arms folded across his chest, something clutched in the palm of his hand, and Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed, head hung low. This was the first time I’d seen them alone together since that night and I cursed when I couldn’t tell if either of them were upset. They’d both changed out of their party clothes and while Bucky was shirtless, wearing a pair of black joggers, Steve was wearing a familiar pair of red plaid pajama pants and donning a black shirt. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, rubbing my elbow.

Steve sighed and pushed himself off the dresser, beckoning me over to him. “I’m tired of seeing my girlfriend and bestfriend at odds with how they feel about each other.” 

“Steve,” I began as he all but practically pushed me onto Bucky's lap, who managed to catch me by resting his hands on my ass. 

“I don’t know why you two are skirting around this. What we all did that night, it changed all of us in different ways,” Steve spoke behind me, rummaging around his dresser, most likely hiding whatever was in his hand when I walked in. 

I turned my head towards him, trying to get out of Bucky’s grip but it only made him hold on tighter. 

“I never wanted things to change the way it did,” Steve continued before sitting down next to Bucky on the bed. “All I want is for you to be happy, honey.” 

I nodded. “I am happy, Stevie. With you.” 

Bucky gently turned my chin so I had no choice but to face him. “And me?” 

The lines in my forehead creased with confusion. “You’ve made it clear how you feel about this, Bucky. You told me we can’t because of Steve.”

“All you two idiots had to do was talk to me,” Steve chuckled. “If I wasn’t open to the idea of this relationship, I never would have suggested us having sex together that night.” 

My head snapped over towards him while still in Bucky’s embrace. “Wait, what are you saying?” 

He merely cupped the back of my head to capture my lips in an ever telling kiss, his words pouring out through it rather than verbally. My tongue tangled with his, tasting the drink from earlier, and Bucky began to lift the end of my dress higher up until it rested underneath my breasts. His hands worked over every inch of my skin as Steve and I continued to kiss. 

Finally needing a breath, he pulled away to rest his forehead against mine. “Bucky and I talked. We’re willing to give this three way relationship a try if you are, Y/N.”

I leaned back so I could look at both of them but then gave Bucky my attention fully. 

“I’m hurt that you didn’t talk to me, Bucky. Sex aside, we had a great friendship and it felt like you threw it away,” I admitted with a wavered breath. 

He cupped my cheek, ocean eyes bouncing between mine. “I’m sorry, doll. You know how fucked I am when it comes to talking about my feelings especially when it comes to you.”

I fiddled with the chain around his neck. “What exactly are those feelings?” 

Bucky and Steve shared a look and when the latter nodded, Bucky's lips met mine in a tender embrace. This kiss, just like the first, caused fireworks to explode within me as what started as a short kiss slowly grew into a favored frenzy as his hands lifted my dress up over my head, breaking the kiss for only a second. As the material fluttered down to the ground, Bucky flipped us over onto the bed and stared down at the only pair of clothes I now wore; a simple cotton thong. 

“I want you, doll. Every day from this moment forward, I want all of you," Bucky proclaimed before shimming out of his joggers and briefs. 

Somehow in the moment of our kiss, I hadn’t noticed Steve moving from the end of the bed to the headboard, making himself comfortable. 

“Do you want me?” Bucky paused before climbing into the bed with us. 

I reached up to lock my hands around his neck and pulled him down with me. “More than anything.”

Our hands were everywhere, groping and needing to feel something more powerful than the love that was beginning to consume us. Bucky spread my legs wide for him, snapping his eyes over towards Steve, who had worked himself out of his own clothes. 

“Grab the blindfold.” 

“Blindfold?” I repeated while looking over to Steve as he reached for something in the nightstand drawer. 

“Do you trust us, honey?” He asked. 

I nodded. “Of course.” 

Steve smiled before brushing his lips over my forehead. “Good girl.” 

Sucking in a breath at the praise, I allowed him to cover my eyes with the blindfold and suddenly my senses were heightened as my loss of vision was apparent. I felt the bed dip around me as Bucky and Steve muttered quietly amongst themselves, the only words I picked up were “take” and “turns”.

My hands were tied together at the wrists and as I tried to yank on them, the headboard smacked against the wall. 

They tied me to the headboard?

“What’s going on?” I asked, nerves taking over, and I began to writhe against the bed. 

A kiss to the top of my breasts, long hair falling over my face. 

Bucky. 

“Trust us, doll. We’ve got you.”

Swallowing the thick feeling of jitters, I felt warm breath over my clit and I shivered when a wet tongue began lapping up my arousal. My body arched off the bed as I tried to fight against my bindings. I needed to run my hands through the hair that tickled the insides of my thigh. I couldn’t tell who was between my legs and it made me let out an aggravated groan. 

“What’s the matter, doll?” Bucky spoke.

The tongue fucking halted and just as I was about to guess it was Bucky, Steve’s warm breath fanned over my ear. 

“Can you guess which one of us is tasting that sweet pussy?” 

“I-I,” the words died on my lips causing both of them to chuckle darkly. 

For the next handful of minutes, I felt both of them taking turns eating me out, one bringing me closer to the edge of bliss only to stop so the other could slowly drag it out. By the end of it, I was screaming with my pleas. 

“I need to cum, please. I’m so close,” tears slipped from behind the blindfold, the edging nearly causing me to combust. 

“Hm, I don’t think so,” Bucky’s teeth sank into the side of my neck just as the pair of lips around my clit vanished with a loud pop. 

I lay there exposed for them to devour, angry with my need for release only to be denied. 

“I fucking hate you both,” I cursed at them. 

My mouth was captured in a messy kiss, my essences lingering on the tongue that explored me. 

“No you don’t, doll,” Bucky sucked on my bottom lip before pulling away. 

Bright light seeped into the room causing me to blink a few times when I realized the blindfold had been pulled off, allowing me to see the unholy sight in front of me. Steve was on his knees, hand wrapped around his cock as he stroked himself over my breasts, Bucky not too far away. He sat on the bed next to me, forcing my mouth over to his awaiting cock with a bruising grip on my hair. 

“Be a good girl and choke on it while Steve paints your chest with his cum,” Bucky snarled; not in the mean way but in the way that the whole entire scene was causing him to feel things he knew he shouldn't. 

It’s what we all felt. 

How could anyone understand this? How would anyone react positively when we told them all three of us were together? 

That’s the thing, dumbass. No one else matters beside you three. Your friends already can tell how much love is shared between you guys. That’s all that matters. 

Agreeing with the voice in my head, I laid out my tongue granting Bucky’s permission to slip his cock down my throat; meeting very little resistance. I held him there for a long moment, peering up at him through lashes to see he had one hand against the wall to keep himself upright while the other was still tangled in my hair. Darting my gaze over to Steve, I let out a muffled moan when I felt his warm cum spurt all over my chest, some hitting the underside of my chin. He let out a guttural moan, nearly falling on top of me but caught himself. 

Steve gathered up some of his cum and tapped my jaw. “Open up for me, honey. Just a bit.” 

Bucky halted his fucking of my throat just long enough for Steve to stuff two fingers full of cum in my mouth, them grazing over Bucky’s slick cock, making him shiver. 

“Fuck man, too close,” he semi snapped. 

Steve rolled his eyes before forcing my mouth closed over bucky’s cock again. “It’s bound to happen.” 

“Still,” Bucky grunted, now holding my head with both hands. “I love you but not in that way.”

With Steve’s cum still in my mouth, I used it as a way to help glide my tongue up and down Bucky’s cock, reveling in the way they both tasted. It was a sinful gleam that filled my eyes as I watched both of them. 

Steve dragged a finger through the cum on my chest, down to my pussy to press it inside of me. 

Bucky, so close to the edge of his own release, that his jaw was clenched and eyes screwed shut. The muscles of his stomach were taut as he tried to hold himself back, unsure what for. So with a gentle tap to his thigh, I allowed him what he’d tried hard to fight against. With a low groan, Bucky’s hips stilled and soon his warm cum mixed with Steve’s still in my mouth and I swallowed it greedily when Bucky slipped out. 

My hands were still bound to the bed and the silk tie was beginning to cut deep into my wrists. 

“These are starting to hurt,” I said quietly. 

Steve reached up over to me to untie the binds and brought my wrists to his lips, kissing away the red marks. 

“Still with us?” Bucky wondered, running fingers through my hair. 

I nodded in pure fulfillment, even though I had yet to cum. “I'm good.” 

“That’s what I want to hear,” Steve praised before helping me to my knees, leaving a few chaste kisses along my spine.

Bucky and him switched positions so he was behind me and Steve was in front of me, all three of us still on the bed that seemed suddenly too small for us. If this was going to be a recurring thing, we needed to talk about getting a bigger bed. 

Steve's cock was already hard as he brushed his head over my lips, precum glazing them. 

“Open up for me, honey,” he tapped my jaw and I obeyed. 

As I worked my mouth up and down his length, I felt the presence of Bucky's face behind my ass and pussy, his chest rumbling with approval. 

“Look how wet you are, doll. Is this for us?” 

I did my best to nod over Steve but it didn't seem enough for Bucky, who smacked my ass with a viscous palm; my cries muffled by the cock in my mouth. While Steve always was a gentle lover with the occasional roughness, it seemed like that was all Bucky; which I didn’t mind. I craved it. 

“No one else gets you this wet, huh?” He chuckled dryly, running his vibranium fingers through my arousal, making even more of a mess between my legs. 

I dug my nails into Steve’s thighs, hoping he understood omy silent answer as I continued to bob my head up and down, doing my best to please him. I wanted to please both of them. Bucky lined himself up behind me, slowly pressing himself in and very quickly, I clenched around him. I didn’t doubt the sight of us tangled like this was immoral but with the way our skin brushed against each other, our shared warmth emanating in waves throughout the bedroom, I didn’t care. 

Our souls connected together, becoming one just like our bodies had, and I knew from this moment on, both of those two would love me until my last breath; even if one of them hadn’t verbally admitted it yet. 

While Bucky found himself in a comfortable position behind me, I could tell it was hard for Steve to keep himself up right due to the force of Bucky's thrusts. So he reached for Steve’s hand, linking them together and holding their arms above me, a way to anchor themselves together. 

Steve twitched inside of my mouth, an indication he was close, so I laid my tongue out flat for him. Make up mixed with tears ran down my face and my jaw was starting to lock up from the force of his ruthless fucking of my throat. 

“You took him so well, doll. Now, be a good girl and let him use your throat like the slut you are,” Bucky growled through gritted teeth. 

I felt his cock reaching points I’d never felt before, it bruising my walls but I continued to cry out in pleasure with each thrust. Steve’s  eyes casted down to where Bucky and I were connected, an inky black filling his once shiny iris’. The way their bodies pulled me back and forth between the two of them, almost a silent telling of the way my heart had felt the last few days. 

“Fuck,” he squeezed Bucky’s hands. “The sight of your dick sliding in and out of her. I can’t-. Shit.” 

All at once, he came all over my tongue, shooting himself deep down my throat. The taste was different than Bucky’s yet I still drank every last drop. Completely spent, he fell to the bed just as Bucky slipped out of me momentarily lifting me into his arms, my legs wrapping around him. 

“Where are we going?” I asked, almost breathless. 

I caught sight of Bucky in the mirror as we walked past it, naked and skin glistening with his sweat and my pussy clenched with the need to be filled again. 

Bucky's strong arms carried me out of mine and Steve’s room over towards his, kicking the door shut behind him. 

“He gets to hear what I had to for years,” Bucky smirked before tossing me onto his bed. 

The LED light glowed from underneath his bed and it made him exude a red aura around him, almost pulsating with his desire for me. He stood at the end of the bed, basking in the sight of me undoubtedly cast in the same aura, and I noticed the softest of smiles pull at the corner of his lips. His chain that held his dog tags being the only article of some kind of clothing as he ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back out of his face.

“What?” I sat up on my elbow, suddenly self conscious. “Are you having second thoughts?” 

He quickly shook his head before crawling over me. “Far from it, Y/N. I love you.”

My heart swelled with his admission and tears burned in the corners of my eyes. I’d been anguished for so long thinking Bucky wouldn’t feel the same. My love for him was something I admitted to myself years ago. After another night of shared moments between us that went unspoken; both of us pushing that night far back to the recesses of our minds because at the time, we thought it was wrong. But now, knowing how we felt about each other, maybe there was hope that moment could be talked about without the feeling of regret. 

I seized his lips in a leisurely kiss, savoring everything about him. 

“I love you too, Bucky,” I proclaimed before kissing him again and basked in the feeling of how finally he was mine; both him and Steve. 

He wasted no time in slipping back inside of me, wrapping one of my legs around his back so he could fuck into me with a new angle. Neither of us would last long, this we knew, so as our kiss became more frantic, his thrusts more uneven, I let my hands wander down to the cool skin of his ass, grabbing a hold of it to push himself deeper. 

“I love you so fucking much, doll,” Bucky panted, punctuating his words thrust for thrust. 

My head fell back deeper into the pillows, his familiar scent engulfing me, staining deep into my skin, and as my orgasm finally washed through me after a night of denial, I cried out his name like a prayer; a woman praying to her king. 

“I love you too, Bucky.” 

As the headboard slammed against the wall violently, matching his thrusts, Bucky soon fell over with me and kept himself locked inside of me to make sure I took every last drop of him. 

The earlier feeling of exhaustion suddenly clawed its way inside of me again just as Bucky pulled out, his cum dripping down my leg, and collapsed next to me. I lay on my back with him on his stomach, his vibranium arm over my stomach to keep me in place. I dragged a finger over the gold streaks and  let out a sigh. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky yawned, kissing my shoulder. 

I frowned. “We left Steve alone.”

Before Bucky could say anything, his door was almost kicked open, a very tired Steve stepping inside of the room with a pair of blue boxers hung low on his hips. 

“I ‘m tired,” he mumbled while slipping into the bed next to me, arm resting just below Bucky’s. 

The three of us lay in silence for a few moments but before I could let the slumber consume me, I let my voice carry out into the air in front of me. 

“So, does this mean we're officially a couple? Or technically would it be a throple? I don’t know how any of this works,” I admitted sheepishly. 

Bucky propped his chin up on his palm, looking down at me while Steve played with my hair. 

“You can date both of us, together. We can do things as a trio or you can do things with each of us separately,"Steve said. 

“But Steve and I won’t be doing stuff with or to each other. Like I said, I love you, just not in that way,” Bucky chuckled before ruffling Steve’s hair. 

I turned towards the latter man, reading his expression to make sure this was what he wanted. I didn’t want him to give up his own feelings and beliefs to make me happy. 

“You’re fine with this, Stevie?” I trailed a finger across his jawline. 

His own fingers palmed my breasts. “More than fine with it, Y/N. I knew for a long time now that your heart wanted Bucky’s but I wanted you to be the one to realize it on your own.” 

Bucky stifled a yawn behind his hand and went to snuggle up next to me. “I’m exhausted.” 

I giggled as he buried his face into my neck while Steve rested his chin on top of my head. Bucky's bed was immensely smaller than mine and Steve's but somehow we managed to make it work. We could figure out the logistics of where the sleeping arrangements would be and fine tune all the details tomorrow but for now, we rest. 

[nadvs]

cam girl (part six)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You don’t remember falling asleep. That’s how exhausted you were from your time with Rafe.

As you slowly slip into consciousness, your body feels loose and buzzing. Your core is trembling and you slowly catch on that you were having an erotic dream about him.

Your eyes flutter open, realizing your sex dream isn’t a dream at all. Rafe’s head is moving under your white comforter between your legs, his warm tongue flattening against your clit.

Your fatigued mind puts it together. He spent the night. He held you as you slept. And now he’s eating you out.

“Oh, fuck,” you chuckle breathily, writhing. “Oh, my God.”

“Finally,” he mutters beneath the cover, taking his mouth off of you to speak. His warm breath spreads over your pussy. “I can’t feel my fucking jaw anymore.”

You’re still in your big t-shirt, but you realize he took your panties off.

“Rafe,” you whine, feeling dizzy. Is he seriously waking you up with head? Holy shit.

“You always such a deep sleeper?” he grumbles. He dips to use his tongue on you again, circles swirling over you. His arms are hooked around your legs, large hands splayed on your inner thighs.

“Hmm?” you mumble, lost in the way he’s tonguing you. His mouth closes around your clit, then he pulls back to talk again.

“Do you always sleep so fucking deeply?” he repeats, his tone stern. His morning voice is raspy and deep and so hot that it’s painful.

“Only when I get really good dick the night before,” you say. You can’t help but take the opportunity to mess with him. “So, it’s weird I didn’t wake up right away.”

Rafe stiffens, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he pulls his mouth off of you.

“I’m joking,” you laugh. You pull the cover up to see his face between your legs. God, he looks so fucking cute, his expression completely unimpressed. “Please keep going, baby.”

“Listen, if you wanna fuck with me-“

“Rafe,” you giggle. “I promise, you’re the best I’ve had. Please keep going.”

“The best?” he echoes, eager for you to stroke his ego.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a better orgasm than the one you gave me last night,” you say, totally honest.

“Huh. Maybe that should be the last one I give you if you’re gonna be such a brat.”

You know he’s just messing with you, but the thought of ending whatever this is with Rafe makes your heart pinch with sadness.

“What then?” Rafe challenges.

“Then I’ll swear off dick forever,” you reply.

You’re pleased when you see his eyes crinkle as he laughs, the sound so sweet. It’s different than the lust-filled, teasing chuckle you hear when you’re fucking. This one is innocent. Genuine.

“Say sorry for joking like that,” he orders you.

“Sorry, baby,” you smile.

“That’s what I thought,” he scoffs, amused. You keep the cover lifted to watch him put his mouth on you again.

You spread your legs further apart, arching your back as he tongues you, reaching every dip between your folds.

You put a hand in Rafe’s hair, feeling the softness of his locks between your fingers as his head moves slowly.

He’s absolutely devouring you. It’s unlike his usual speed and roughness. He’s savoring this.

You keep your gaze on him, euphoria filling every curve of your body. He tilts slightly to meet your gaze, blue eyes locked on you as he laps at you, long and slow.

His nose presses against your groin, the sound of him sucking you filling your bedroom. You run the heel of your palm over his head, caressing him, realizing this is the gentlest, most affectionate thing you’ve done to him.

You dart your gaze to the ceiling. You’re taken aback at your own tender gesture. Why you touching him like this? Like he’s someone you’re dating instead of casually fucking?

Because he cuddled you to sleep last night. That must be it. His big, warm, bare chest was pressed against your back, arms encircling you, legs tangled together as you dozed off. He acted like a boyfriend and not the fuck buddy he is. Your body is just confused, you tell yourself.

You shut your eyes and focus on the way his mouth is suckling and working you, sending waves of easy, soft satisfaction through you.

“You’re really good at that,” you breathe, almost wishing you wouldn’t cum so he’d do this for hours.

“I know, baby,” Rafe murmurs.

You know he’s being his usual cocky self, but the fact that he’s so skilled should serve as a reminder. He’s experienced. He fucks around. He wants to own you, but he never said anything about you owning him.

This is just fun, you tell yourself. Just fun with a nice monetary reward.

His lips lock on your clit, sucking harder. As his finger slowly sinks into you, tingles go up your legs.

“Rafe,” you breathe, bucking your hips.

“You like that?” he encourages. “My good fucking girl.”

The hand on your thigh grips you tighter as he adds a finger, curling into your pussy and pushing in and out of you.

The next time his mouth circles your clit, you know you’re close.

“Like that, like that,” you whimper.

“You gonna cum for me?” he teases. “You’re clenching around my fingers.”

He sucks your clit hard again and the climax rips through you. You feel yourself twitching as you cum on his mouth.

Rafe groans against you, licking and sucking until you’re so overstimulated that you have to squeeze your thighs and wiggle free.

“Can’t take how good it feels?” he asks, provoking.

“Fuck,” you laugh. You press your palms against your forehead, throwing your head back and breathing deeply. What a way to wake up.

“Get on your stomach,” he instructs. He sits up, the blanket falling off of him. He’s wearing what he fell asleep in: nothing but his briefs, his bulge jutting out beneath the fabric.

You find the strength to turn onto your front, the movement making you realize how sore your ass is from the way he pounded into it last night.

Your cheek is pressed against your pillow and his cock slides in through the valley where the backs of your thighs meet, pushing into your cunt. You inhale in unison at the sensation.

“Fuck, it’s like you…” Rafe rasps. “Like you were fucking made for me. So fucking perfect.”

You arch your back so that he can get inside as deep as possible.

His movements are slow and deep at first, but build into rough, sloppy thrusts, making your bed squeak.

The way Rafe fills you feels so damn good. If he wanted to spend all day in your bed, fucking you over and over again, you’d happily agree to it.

Rafe’s breaths get faster, his groans get deeper, and he empties himself inside of you with a shudder, his hand squeezing your hip so hard that it hurts.

You’re bruised there from last night, you realize.

You never like the feeling of him leaving your body, and thankfully, he doesn’t do it just yet. Rafe simply lays on top of you, shifting a bit to the side so he’s not putting all of his weight on you.

His cheek is pressed against your shoulder blade. His hand on top of yours is directly at your eye-line as you rest on your pillow. You love those hands.

It’s Monday. You have class. You have to be a functioning person today. You don’t remember setting your alarm last night and you have no idea what time it is.

But you just started your morning by getting eaten out and fucked and Rafe’s warm, large body is shielding yours, so the idea of getting out of bed isn’t appealing in the slightest.

He’s still inside you.

You think back to last night, the way he fucked you from behind, how big his fingers around your neck and inside you were and how hard he slapped your ass.

“What’d I do to deserve you spanking me last night?” you ask.

“Poor baby,” he mocks. “Is your ass hurting? Need me to rub it?”

You feel him shift behind you, his hand sliding off of yours, palm going down your back and over the curve of your ass.

In the movement, his softening cock starts to slide out of you. You involuntarily let out a small, unhappy cry.

“What?” Rafe asks.

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Why are you whining?”

“Just… don’t like the feeling of you pulling out,” you admit.

“Oh, my God, so needy,” he jeers. “Wish you could have my dick in you all day, huh?”

You don’t deny it.

To your pleasure, Rafe lies back down, pushing the rest of himself into you again.

“You deserved getting spanked because you drive me fucking crazy,” he drawls. His hand rubs big circles on your naked ass.

“It’s not my fault you want me so bad.”

“Yeah, it is,” he mutters.

You finally find the will to pick your phone up from the nightstand.

You see that you’ll need to leave your place soon if you want to make it to your first class. But you’ll make it as long as your shower is quick.

You open your text conversation with Rafe, holding your phone low so he can’t see what you’re doing.

“Might wanna check your phone,” you say quietly.

You don’t want him to pull out of you, but it’s inevitable. He gets up with a grunt, making you feel incomplete without him inside you. You look over your shoulder when he’s lying down again, phone held out.

The phone looks so small in his hand. God, when did a man’s hands have such an effect on you?

Rafe smirks at his screen, turning it towards you.

“Watch this,” he says. You see the $50 request you just sent him, your text “for spanking me” right below it. He taps his thumb on ‘Reject.’

“You asshole,” you laugh. Then the top of the screen catches your eye. He has you saved as ‘princess’ and the contact photo is the booty pic you sent him yesterday.

“Rafe, that is unhinged,” you say, pointing to the photo. “You have to be joking. What if someone sees that picture?”

“Lucky them.”

You can’t help but laugh. At least this reminds you of what you are to him: a piece of ass. You officially push away the hope that you’re anything more. And a part of you even wishes he doesn’t do something sweet like staying overnight to keep you warm again. If he continues playing his horny sugar daddy role, and does no boyfriend shit like that again, the hope can never come back.

It’s better to be realistic.

“I have to go,” you complain, pushing yourself up. You turn to sit, your feet touching your floor, stretching your arms above your head, with your back to Rafe.

“Don’t do too much today,” he says. You turn, watching him pull his underwear on.

“What are you planning to do to me this time?”

He turns his lean frame to look down at you, his tongue jutting under his cheek in a way you can only describe as utterly mischievous.

“I’m gonna try to make you squirt.”

Your cheeks flood with warmth. This man is going to destroy you.

“’I’ve never done that before,” you say.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t.” Rafe hikes up his jeans and collects his shirt off the floor. “And if any guy can do it for you, it’s the one with the best cock you’ve ever had.”

“I regret telling you that,” you tease.

He bends over your small bed, pressing his palm to your cheek. His eyes travel over your face, smirking, looking like he’s imagining all the things he’s going to do tonight.

“See you tonight, princess.”

He leaves, and you’re still trying to catch your breath.

Your day of classes is tiring, your body still sore and reeling from Rafe having his way with you. You barely make it home for the maintenance guys to fix your radiator.

You sit in your kitchen, trying to study as they clang their tools and talk to each other in your bedroom.

It takes them two hours, finishing up in the evening. After they leave, you savor in the feeling of a warm room, Rafe’s money having solved one of your most expensive problems. It’s so simple, but so nice.

You lie in your bed just to rest your eyes.

You’re suddenly startled awake. Your room is pitch black and a slamming on your front door makes your heart pound in your chest.

You sit up, trying to gauge your surroundings. You check your phone to see it’s half past ten and you have three missed calls and a string of texts from Rafe.

Another sequence of pounds on the front door erupts. It must be him.

You rush to your front door and look through the peephole to confirm it’s Rafe, his jaw clenched in anger. You missed your nightly appointment. He seems pissed. Excitement bubbles inside you.

You crack open the door, meeting his eyes. He shakes his head at you, nostrils flared, and he pushes his way into your dark apartment.

Rafe slams the door behind him, hand roughly grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks together, your lips jutting out.

“Where the hell were you?” he demands, looking down at you.

“Fell asleep?” you say weakly. He’s fuming - he likes to feel like he owns you and today, his personal pornstar didn’t obey him.

“I pay you to get in front of that camera on time.”

“You’re mad,” you tease, a smile uncontrollably growing on your lips. “Are you gonna punish me?”

Rafe tightens his grip on your face and you rest your hands on his firm forearms, feeling him pull up, beckoning you onto the tips of your toes. You’re already soaked.

“I’m going to fuck you in every hole,” he mutters, “and you’re fucking dreaming if you think you’re cumming tonight.”

“What?” you plead. “You said tonight, we’d try-“

“You think you deserve that?” he interrupts. He releases you, pushing you back. “Get in your fucking room. Go.”

You obey, feeling Rafe’s hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you into the space. He turns the light on behind you, surely wanting to see every inch of you while he makes you pay for flaking on him.

You hear his belt unbuckling behind you and he presses up against you, his cock hard between your asscheeks.

“Get naked,” he instructs. You bend to pull down your pants, take off your top, and strip entirely bare.

Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, palming himself over his briefs, his eyes locked on yours.

“Crawl to me,” he says. You drop to your knees, obeying him, stopping once your head is between his legs. He pulls his briefs down, his cock swollen.

You don’t need him to tell you the next instruction. You eagerly put your hand at his base and your mouth over his tip, spitting on the head.

“Yeah, get it really fucking wet,” he mutters. “You’re gonna choke on it.”

He groans when you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowing. You imagine him sitting on his bed tonight, waiting for you to log in, his dick hard and getting no attention, growing angry when you weren’t showing up.

You’ve never felt so craved by somebody before.

Rafe puts his hand on the back of your head and pushes you down to take all of him, hitting the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex.

“That’s what you fucking get,” he tells you. You look up at him, eyes trailing up his toned stomach and up to his face. He looks so pissed off and so horny all at the same time. You squeeze your thighs together.

“Do I have to do it myself?” he scoffs, tugging at your roots and pulling you back.

“No, I can do it,” you say, muffled against his cock. You push back down, taking him all in, back curling as you gag on his slick length.

You grip him and start bobbing, moving your fingers off every time you reach his base, lips flanged around him.

“Faster,” he orders. You pick up your pace, spit dribbling out of your mouth, prompting you to slurp up the mix of saliva and precum.

“Fuck…” he groans. He pulls you off his dick, your lips popping off him. “Suck on my balls.”

You hungrily push his cock up, digging your head between his legs to put your mouth on his soft flesh, slurping.

“Shit,” he breathes out of pleasure. You feel proud of yourself for making him forget how angry he was so quickly.

Until you realize it wasn’t that easy.

His hand frames your face again, pads of his fingers digging into your cheeks, stopping you.

“On your back,” he says. “Right there, on the floor.”

You’re trembling as you shift back, laying on the hard floor, spreading your legs for him. He gets down to hover over you, his cock in his hand.

Rafe taunts you, bouncing the tip against your clit. Your body jolts at the feeling.

“You’re not gonna cum,” he warns you. “I know how this pussy feels when you’re close and I’ll stop.”

“Rafe,” you beg. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I swear, I-”

He plunges into you, cutting you off, his hips immediately hitting yours as he bottoms out. You throw your head back as he tears into you, his girth forcing you apart.

He thrusts hard and fast, fully rage-fucking you, taking his anger out with every move, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done to you.

“You want me to call you a good girl, don’t you?” he asks.

“I am a good girl,” you shudder, knowing it’s not true, saying it only so he’ll fuck you harder.

“No, you’re fucking not,” he laughs. You look down to see the way his cock is disappearing into you over and over again.

The tension in your gut is coiling tighter. You try not to make it obvious that you’re close to cumming, keeping your eyes low. But your body betrays you. The second your walls start to flutter around him, he pulls out.

“You’re not cumming,” he says. “I already fucking told you.”

This is not the Rafe who cuddled you to sleep last night. This side of him, the insatiable, animalistic side, is simple and only wants one thing. It’s so intoxicating being used by him.

“Ass up,” he says. You know he’s about to fulfill his promise of fucking you three different ways and you can’t wait.

You’re shaking as you spread your knees as much as you can, waiting on all fours, feeling his thumb pad rub up and down over your asshole.

“Can you take it without the lube?” Rafe asks.

This is the bullshit that makes you worry you’ll start liking him. Why can’t he just fuck you how he wants without worrying that he’ll hurt you? It’d be so much easier to not like him if he was cruel and selfish all the time.

“Do it,” you whisper depravedly, frustrated that your thoughts are getting carried away.

He pushes into your asshole, making you cry out in discomfort. The pressure stings as he fills you and you instinctually dart forward, your body trying to prevent any more pain.

“It’s hurting you,” he realizes, quickly pulling out.

“Rafe, just keep going,” you say, looking down at the floor. “Please.”

He buries into you again and you bite your lip hard. He starts to pound into you, balls hitting your pussy, hands gripping your hips.

You let out guttural moans with every pump, praying it’ll end, yet at the time, wishing he won’t cum for another hour. It’s such a good hurt.

Your elbows weaken and you collapse, pressing your forearms onto the hard floor. Your knees are burning in pain, your asshole strained, and tears start to leak out of your eyes as he thrashes mercilessly.

Rafe’s cock starts to spasm inside you, and after one last powerful thrust, you feel his hot, sticky cum flood you. His groan is the deepest, sexiest noise you’ve ever heard from him.

He trembles through some aftershocks, like he wants to give you every drop, then pulls out of you. You go limp, eyes shut, lids against your forearm.

You’re panting hard, sweat sheening your skin, and drop to your side, completely fucked out.

You feel his cum drip down the curve of your ass.

“Get up,” he says. You can’t.

Suddenly, his hands cup your waist, pulling you up.

“Come on,” Rafe says quietly. “Get up.”

You find your footing and he guides you to your bed. You’re a trembling mess as you lie down, curling onto your side, eyes closed, tears hot.

You can’t control the sniffle that shakes through you.

“Whoa, you’re…” he whispers.

You open your eyes to see him sitting over you, his face flushed. You find the strength to pull the comforter up to your eyes, hiding them as you nuzzle into your pillow.

“Hey,” he half-whispers. “You’re crying.”

“I’m just tired,” you say with a defeated laugh.

The room is quiet until you feel the mattress shift, its springs squeaking. Rafe settles behind you and you’re cold for a moment as he lifts the sheet off you. But then it’s on you again, his body curving around you, the comforter covering both of you.

You feel his hand come down your waist, your stomach, your thighs. He starts to gently rub between your legs.

He already told you that he wouldn’t let you orgasm, so you know he’s doing this to continue the torment.

Still, you shift onto your back, spreading your legs open for him, eyes closed as you breathe through the sensation of the pads of his fingers spreading your lips apart to fondle your clit.

You feel Rafe move over you, holding one of your breasts to close his mouth around your nipple. You shudder at the bliss he’s offering you, even though you’re painfully aware that he won’t let you reach your peak.

His fingers move expertly while his tongue flicks up and down and side to side, covering your nipple with his spit.

The stimulation of both his hand and his mouth makes the tightening in your stomach come quickly, and as you arch your back and start to breathe shallower, you’re surprised that his hand moves faster and his mouth sucks harder.

You moan as the orgasm hits you and he rubs you throughout the entire climax. Once you let out a final sigh, you open your eyes.

Rafe’s head rests on the pillow when he comes back up. He’s looking at you with half-closed lids, lying beside you.

“I thought…” you say, a smile pulling on your lips. He knows what you mean. You thought he wasn’t going to let you cum.

“Changed my mind.”

You know you’re not in the right headspace when you wonder if he did that out of guilt for fucking you so hard that he made you cry. That that was his special way of apologizing. But this is Rafe. It can’t be that. He’s simply enjoying keeping you in his control.

“I might miss our sessions more often if this is what happens,” you say breathily.

“Don’t,” he warns.

“I’ve never seen someone so angry,” you tease.

Rafe turns his head, looking up at the ceiling. You see his jaw tighten, clearly recalling how pissed off he was at you.

“I didn’t know where you were,” he said.

“I was right here in my freaking bed, Rafe,” you laugh. “Dead asleep.”

“No, it’s…” His brows furrow. “Some guys came to fix the heat today, right? And you were here all alone and…”

Realization hits you all at once.

“You were… worried they did something to me?” you ask. “And that’s why I didn’t show up?”

Rafe just shakes his head in disbelief again, mouth firming. You watch him in awe. Was that what got him so worked up?

You picture him at home, getting angrier with every minute you were late, and then the possibility of something like that happening to you suddenly popping in his mind, making him go batshit.

“Rafe,” you say with a small smile, genuinely endeared he was concerned about you.

He sits up, looking at you with an angry grimace.

“Why the fuck are you acting like it’s funny?” he snaps.

“I’m not,” you say softly. “I’m-”

“Next time you say you’re gonna be somewhere, be there,” he states coldly.

You feel like you have whiplash. You were just having fun with him. Now that you brought up why he came over in such a frenzy, he’s pissed off again?

Rafe stands, giving you a view of his naked body as he rounds your bed and picks up his briefs. He doesn’t make eye contact with you when he pulls his jeans on or puts on his shirt.

He doesn’t say a word as he storms out of your room. You simply hear your front door open and shut.

You’re left lying in bed, jarred over what just happened.

Working at the Cameron household, you caught little glimpses of the family’s home life and have heard your fair share of Rafe’s yelling. You knew he had a temper to him. But the way he just left, mood shifting so suddenly, is still shocking.

You don’t hear from Rafe the rest of the night. Or the next morning. Or afternoon. You’re not sure if he’s giving you the silent treatment or simply doesn’t feel the need to talk to you unless you’re fucking or you have a camera facing your half-naked body.

You sit on your bed at 10 pm, laptop open, unsure if he’ll even show up tonight. And if he doesn’t, what’s it going to be like when you go to your shift at the estate tomorrow?

But then you hear the familiar chime.

figure8 has joined the session.

“Hi,” you say, breaking the silence in your bedroom. “You still mad at me, baby?”

He doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry,” you purr, pouting. You sit up, pulling your panties up tight, making sure he sees the outline of your lips under the silk. “Are we gonna try to make me squirt or no? I’m gonna need your help.”

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8: stay just like that. im coming over

{ read part seven here }

[nereidprinc3ss]

rubber duck

in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!

fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!

Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.  

He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand. 

“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly. 

“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?” 

Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek. 

“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.” 

Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition. 

“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?” 

“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.” 

This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.  

“How long have you been asleep?” 

“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented. 

“10:20.” 

“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep.  "I didn't mean to-"

“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.” 

Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.

“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?” 

He laughs, running a hand through your hair. 

“I don’t even know where you got that number.” 

“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow. 

“Honey, that’s Algebra.” 

You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.  

“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear. 

“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?” 

You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. 

For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?” 

You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt. 

“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.

“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”  

“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.” 

Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.  

“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum. 

“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-” 

“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?” 

Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you. 

“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.” 

Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better. 

“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him. 

He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise. 

“Of course. What do you want to hear?” 

“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.” 

“What? No Jane Austen?” 

“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.” 

A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection. 

“You are utterly ridiculous.” 

“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm. 

“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater. 

“Just get the book, Spencer.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.  

A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub. 

More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down. 

“Ready to get out?” 

You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air. 

“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly. 

“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.” 

You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up. 

“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.” 

“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.  

“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.” 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Either college or old man Ford being with someone who, even after all the years theyve spent together, still looks at them like a lovesick puppy

like theyre blushing and getting flustered when he rests his hands on their waist or doing normal couple stuff, etc.

it's like their mind still doesn't register that they're together and instead, to cope, just proceeded to have the most down bad crush on their HUSBAND

(like that one reddit post LMAOO)

You knew that you were staring but you didn’t care, and you knew that Ford knew that you were staring and yet you didn’t care when the finest man in existence was before you and was also your husband?!

You still found it impossible to come to terms that this silver fox was yours forever and always, you still get flustered when he compliments you and your bed head, even more so when he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead.

You really shouldn’t be this badly affected after being with Ford for so long, but you couldn’t help it! Your husband was hot and you’d be blind to not take time out of your day to stare at him, shamelessly admiring his aging face and silver fluffy hair that looked like storm clouds! It was unfair that Ford looked so effortlessly beautiful no matter what he did that it left you swooning and pining after him like a lovesick fool, you’d find yourself asking if he was single…

Only to remember that you were married to him and got to see him be so effortlessly handsome every damn day of your life and you end up smiling stupidly.

‘You alright my love?’ Ford asked and you internally squealed like a little girl.

‘I am just perfectly fine my dear, just admiring my beautiful and talented and smart husband is all.’ You admitted also sheepishly as though you were confessing to him all over again as you felt the best rush to your cheeks and tips of your ears.

Ford smiled softly as he walked over to you and held your face in his hands, feeling the warmth radiation off of your cheeks as he caressed them; After all this time together Ford was aware of the fact he still held some power over you and he couldn’t help but feel flattered at how little had changed from then to now.

It was charming and sweet and kind of you to still look at him through the lens you did since your time at college together, he didn’t feel like he deserved it, but he knew that feeling would fade the moment he looked into your eyes and saw the abundance of love you held for him was still thriving and very much alive.

‘That is very sweet of you my dear,’ Ford said softly as he kissed your forehead, ‘you truly enlighten me with your love and affection that I can not thank you enough for marrying this old fool.’ He chuckled as he saw your eyes widened as though you still weren’t accustomed to the reality that you two were indeed married and have been for the past two months. Ford often wondered what what off in that head of yours but from the look within your eyes, he already knew his answer and couldn’t help but find it endearing.

‘I’d be the fool if I didn’t marry you Ford, even a bigger fool if I didn’t say anything back in college. I think I’d fight myself if i didn’t.’ You admitted as you thought of an alternate universe where you didn’t spill your guts to Ford back in college, you honestly didn’t want to think of where your life would’ve been like had you not married Ford as you were certain it was one full of regret and longing for what could’ve been. So you thanked god every night as you cuddled up to him in your shared bed that you got to live in a reality where you got Ford to be yous in every aspect possible.

Ford chuckled. ‘I highly doubt there is one where we don’t end up together my darling, and trust me I’ve been through the entire multiverse for the past thirty years.’ His eyes then soften as he rests his forehead against yours, causing your whole body to heat up at the action as you found yourself melting into him and his warmth. ‘I’m just happy that you were willing to wait so long for me. So, so happy.’ He adds in a whisper.

You nudged his noses with yours, flighting off the butterflies that were now within your stomach and running rampant at his words alone. ‘I would’ve waited far longer if needed just to see you home safe and sound.’ You told him as you kissed his nose and cheeks softly, happy to be in his arms and breath him in, content in knowing that he was here and that he was real unlike the dreams you had in the past. ‘So don’t thank me for doing something I would’ve done ten times over. You deserve as such Ford.’ You add as you pecked him lightly on the lips reassuringly.

‘Still I must thank my adorning wife/husband/spouse for being by my side when they had every right to walk away.’ Ford said as he tugged you closer to his chest, just innocently holding you in his arms lovingly but yet you couldn’t help but feel your heart hammer in your chest at being so close with him as you burrowed your face into his heck.

‘Your wife/husband/spouse is just happy to see you home where you’d belong with your family.’ You murmured again his red turtleneck, holding his waist tightly as you indulged in his comforting scent, something you loved about him that rivalled your love for his six fingers.

‘And I’m happy that I get the opportunity to call you my wife/husband/spouse.’ Ford admits as he kisses the top of your head before nuzzling his face into your neck, pressing a tender kiss there which made your breath hitch in your throat. ‘I love you my darling, so, so much.’ He whispers as though it was something that would only be shared between the two of you, like no one else is allowed to hear such talk between lovers and soulmates.

Your love for Ford was insurmountable, no words could properly describe just how much you love this man that you were more then willing to rip heaven and hell for, to rip through time and space just to see him home safe, anything if it meant seeing a man as sweet and loving as him smile that adorable smile of his in your direction.

You needed Ford like you needed air to breathe, water to drink and food to eat. Ford was a necessity for your survival and you weren’t going to let him go ever again, for you didn’t know how you’d be able to cope without him again.

Sure you might still have an embarrassingly massive crush on your husband, and become flustered every time he held your hand, kissed your forehead or even looked at you lovingly but you weren’t ashamed of it as it just meant that you were that your love rang true even after so long. If anything it meant that your love was stronger then most that fizzle out after a certain period of time, and yet you couldn’t help but smile stupidly and look away whether Ford complimented you or engulfed your hand with his own.

Ford was your best friend, husband and your crush all at the same time and you were more then happy to have finally gotten your happy ending with him, all the while staying perpetually in love with him regardless of the passage of time because Ford was so much more then your husband but he was massive part of yourself that you couldn’t live without nor intend to.

‘I love you so much my beloved Ford.’ You said as you rested your eyes and listened in on his strong heartbeat that told you he was alive as he held you tighter. ‘So very, very much.’

‘Then I hope you keep loving me for a long time.’ Ford confessed as he kissed your neck some more.

‘And I’ll promise to love you for an even longer amount of time after that.’ You admit as you moved your neck so that he’d have more access as you clutched onto him, smiling dopey as you felt as though you were on cloud nine within your husbands arms, blissed out of your mind as it ran rampant with ideas for the rest of your shared lives together.

[monster-mash-m]

Parasite hybrid.

Cw: Nsfw mdni, yandere themes, murder, madturbation, body control, immortality?

Hear me out-

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He’s one of the more… sapient parasites. Most parasites glint to their hosts, take over their bodies mindlessly to survive and then kill the host once done with their body.

Not him though, not Or-1-on or as you’ve grown accustomed to call him, Orion. His species of parasite is rare. Yet here he was. With you.

Unlike his parasitic families, Orion didn’t take over his host’s body, in a sense. Sure he could control your body if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He just often sat in the back of your mind. He liked your company and surprisingly… he liked yours. He was rather funny, although you’re pretty sure he’s just adapted his personality from you.

And at the moment you’re at your dead end job. One of your coworkers is being rude. Orion doesn’t like that of course, no one talks to his host like that.

‘Kill them’

You reply in your mind ‘no they don’t deserve death… maybe just a bad hair day though’. You resist the urge to giggle

‘They barged past you.’ He said ‘They deserve everyday to be a bad hair day…’

That was just one instance of Orion being overprotective. He always wanted what he believed was in your best interest.

‘Buy it. You like these.’ He hums out, his melodic voice echoing in your mind “Orion- I’m not buying anymore books, I’m just window shopping.” You reply outloud, when you’re home alone there’s no reason why you have to use your mind to respond. ‘But you like them.’ He protests, taking control of your arm on the mouse of your laptop, clicking the mouse, buying the book you’ve been looking at for far too long.

Orion is sweet, he really is. … he just has a hard time when people treat you poorly. He just couldn’t stand the fact that someone insulted you the other day, it’s been eating away at him. Of course he leaves your head at night, while you’re asleep. Asking one of his more… deadly parasite brothers to get in that person’s head. You notice them become more sickly as the weeks go on. Orion acting the part of a clueless friend.

Orion was unfortunately not much of a physical presence. His true body akin to a featureless clump or blob, almost like slime. Oh how he longed to hold you like a lover would. To run his hands over your soft curves like a lover would… to pleasure you like a lover would…

And oh there goes one of your hands as he lazily takes control of one of your arms. His control making your hand slip under your underwear, making you touch yourself for him. He could feel your pleasure, he liked that. He liked when you gasped for him, he liked how he could make you squirm without even touching you. He’d control small parts of your brain to make the pleasure seem oh so much more intense. Isn’t he just the sweetest.

‘Look at all that cum… you’re the first human host I’ve had you know… I’m glad it was you…’

He coos in your mind so adoringly, almost as if he was inlove, can parasites love?

‘I want to be with you… forever…’

All you could do is just gasp and let out your pretty moans for him as he controls your orgasms. Needless to say he never leaves you unsatisfied.

He will never let you go. Even when you start to age, he won’t allow that. Oh no no. He’s a parasite, he can’t live without his host. He will keep your body up and running, maybe even trying to find a way to make sure your soul can never leave him…

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Idk why but I love this concept!