#Miracles Come in Pairs
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oncexinxmyxdreams · 6 months ago
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Encantober: Secret 💚
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@encantober-official
How does a secret allow so much freedom? (Consider this PG for some hints of adult romantic relationships.)
It started off as a secret for simple reasons. Just to see if courting would work. Just to see that if it didn't work out, they would still be close friends. There'd be no fuss from others if it didn't work. He feared if she was romantically with him, she'd be completely shunned. She already gets comments about being an old friend. His best friend. Her cold mother wouldn't like it. She's never liked him. Even when asking him petty future requests to see if she becomes rich. Who'd want to be associated with Bad News Bruno? Bruno was thankful Mercedes could see through his insecurities and meet him halfway. 
The secret was sealed with a promise that whatever happened, it wouldn't hurt their bond. Also sealed with a gentle kiss on the cheek.
It started off with meeting a couple times of week. Always at night when they know everyone is deep asleep. Bruno whispering to Casita he needs to go for a walk and clear his head. The sentient house obliges and never even hints to anyone. A long trek through the jungle and into a clearing with part of the river. They'd stargaze, practice dancing and just talk. Sweet and brief kisses as their relationship progressed. Bruno blushing and stumbling over his words much to his beloved's amusement.
It later became lustful kisses and embraces. By then, it's more fun that it's just the two of them who knows. It's like a book or telenovela. Their love is more clandestine, and they cherish it. Crave. Desire. Yearn.
Now it's nearly every night. It doesn't matter if they lose a couple hours of sleep. They need each other. They need their secret time alone. It's become more intimate. Heated. Sensual. Passionate.  
It's not that he fears what his family will think. Bruno knows his family would be happy. They'd be thrilled that he and Mercedes are in love. The secret between him and Mercedes is freedom. She doesn't have to meet her family's unrealistic expectations or demands. The harsh reality of being the Encanto's prophet fades. The heavy lift he's had to carry for the past thirteen years is gone. He's just Bruno: the version of himself he wishes he could always be forever. He's only with Mercedes. Their own secret.  
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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 2 years ago
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Coming Home
For Anon 🌼
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not-poignant · 1 year ago
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Hello! Sorry if you've answered this before--I searched but didn't see anything. Do you have any ideas about other fae tales characters that might exist in the Underline universe that we haven't seen yet, like Ash or Gulvi? I know there's a full TRP story coming (hooray!!!) but was wondering if there are any little tasty morsels you might have about the others who won't be getting the spotlight 😊
Hi anon!
Ash is a peak alpha, and like most peak alphas, he's happiest not in a relationship, so we're not going to get a side story with him (much like Ash in the canon, he's not pairing off! He's aromantic and not interested in any kind of long-term sexual relationship)
Gulvi is with Fenwrel in the sister facility to Hillview! I don't write f/f (aside from in small oneshots), but they're definitely together. :D Fenwrel basically has Dr Gary's job - she manages/runs the sister facility to Hillview which has women omegas and omegas with uteruses, and alpha companions as well.
At the moment, I haven't felt pinged to write any other pairings or anything for the universe. Technically by the time it's done, it will have five separate serials dedicated to it which is more than I've ever written in any universe before, and is already very overwhelming to think about! Folks are always more than welcome to write fanfiction though. :)
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reiverreturns · 1 year ago
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sighs while adding wyll/karlach/tav avernus smut to my master list of wips
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kitramune · 4 months ago
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And anudda one AO3
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mostlyfate · 2 years ago
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tonycries · 1 year ago
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Unmistakably Yours - G.S.
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Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.5k
A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.
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Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.
He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.
Because you weren’t here.
“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 
Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 
With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-
“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”
“Where is she?”
---
It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 
Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 
Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 
One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.
He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?
Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 
God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-
That was when you felt it. 
The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 
You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 
Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.
“My love?”
Satoru.
It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 
Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 
All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 
A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 
“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 
It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 
Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 
“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 
He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-
Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.
Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.
You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 
Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 
“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”
Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 
Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”
There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 
Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.
Shit. He’s lost it.
Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 
Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.
Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?
Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 
Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.
The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.
But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.
Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.
It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.
Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-
“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-�� His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”
With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 
“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”
You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”
“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 
“But-”
“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”
Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.
Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”
“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”
And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 
Rip!
It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 
He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 
“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”
That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”
Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.
Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 
And it was so unfair. 
Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 
And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 
Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 
And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 
“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.
“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”
He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 
And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 
“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”
“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”
You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 
But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.
Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 
“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”
And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.
You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 
“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 
But it wasn’t fast enough. 
Not for Satoru, at least.
Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-
That cheat. 
You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 
Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 
“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 
One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 
Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 
Desperate. Violent, even.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 
And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 
“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 
Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 
Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 
You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 
You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”
“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”
“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 
He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.
Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 
Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 
And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 
God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 
And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 
“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 
“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”
“But-”
God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 
Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 
Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 
It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 
“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.
He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.
Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.
“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”
You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”
“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”
“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”
And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 
If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 
“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.
And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”
At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 
Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 
“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”
“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.
It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.
“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”
“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”
And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 
Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 
Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-
“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”
Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”
And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.
Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 
And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.
Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.
“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”
It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 
“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”
The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 
And then it’s black. 
---
“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”
Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 
And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.
Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?
“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”
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A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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ashmp3 · 9 months ago
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@wantbytaemin
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oncexinxmyxdreams · 2 years ago
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Encanto OC Event Week 1: Mercedes Reyes
I can't draw at all and read that picrew is okay. Does DollDivine count? 😅
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Moodboard for Mercedes. 🎨
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Full Name: Mercedes Yarisel Cordova Reyes.
DOB: October 20th, 1899. Died June 26th, 1935.
POB: Bogota, Colombia.
Likes/Hobbies: Painting, long walks, exploring, rock collecting, swimming, dancing, and reading romance novels.
Dislikes: Arguing, being bored, her mother’s dismissiveness and people mistreating others.
MBTI: INFP
Height: Exactly 5 feet tall though she was an inch taller than Bruno at one point.
Hair Color/Style: Dark brown. Mid-back length and no bangs. She'd like changing the hairstyle every day and wear a pretty sunhat when outdoors.
Eye color: Jade green.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.
Voice: Zulay Henao.
Positive Traits: Compassionate, loyal, idealistic, easygoing, romantic and a dreamer.
Negative Traits: Self-conscious, overly private and a bit too unrealistic. Is very hard on herself when she fails.
Habits: Nibbles pencils while writing.
Talents: Skilled in watercolor and dancing.
Pets: Two donkeys named Diego and Eliana.
Favorite Food: Arroz de Lisa (rice, vegetables and salted fish, preferably mullet.)
Career: Wanted to be an artist but worked for her in-law's cantina while living in Villavicencio.
Family:  Her father, Vicente Cordova, passed away when she was 3. She has very few memories of him. Mother, Maria Reyes, who is controlling and manipulative. Armando Zaragoza became her stepfather when she was 14. She didn't like him at first but got along well with him. Half-sister Desideria was born when she was 15.
Eventually was forced into an arranged marriage with Pablo Salazar. They had twin girls, Francisca and Alejandra. Mercedes became close to her mother-in law Perla, but not with her father-in-law Arturo who's not the most sensitive person.
Backstory: After her dad died, Mercedes moved to different cities with her mom. At some point, they met a group of people who were traveling for new starts. They joined and miraculously arrived to the Encanto! Upon the first day, 10-year-old Mercedes met most of the Madrigals. She was getting used to a new home, but desired to find a library or bookstore. She wanted to find a book to a series she'd almost completed. A couple days after moving, she found one and searched for her book. The only copy she found was being read by a nervous looking boy: Bruno.
I'll save it for the Relationship week, but they were best friends. Some would say soulmates with how well they got along. Mercedes was friends with Julieta and Pepa, but she clicked with Bruno. Even when his reputation became worse and he was mistreated, she remained loyal. Bruno was grateful to her and devastated when she was forced to leave for the arranged marriage. The last time they saw each other, they were almost 20, and sadly, they won't meet again.
The marriage wasn't bad. Pablo had to leave his girlfriend due to the arrangement. He and Mercedes both understood each other's situation which led to respect and empathy. They really liked each other, but there wasn't true love. As a teen, Mercedes had always imagined different scenarios with her true love: exchanging love letters, dancing under starry skies and kiss in the rain. She had to leave the dreams behind, but her twins were the best part of her life.
When the twins were 13, Pablo and Mercedes annulled their marriage realizing they weren't content anymore. (Also Pablo was having an emotional affair.) After that, Mercedes took her daughters to Cali and secretly hoped she'd find the Encanto again. With the movie's timeline, Mercedes already passed away from a severe case of malaria. She was only 35. She left her daughters behind with no other family support. Though she's gone, her story isn't over because her children will find the Encanto and meet the Madrigals.
@encanto-extended-edition
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 5 months ago
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You’re My Baby Too
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: none
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You'd think that the second pregnancy would be a breeze. You already know everything about how it goes, how to prepare, what to expect, but in your case, your second pregnancy was dreadful.
First trimester, horrible nausea, you spent half your time over the toilet with Lando holding your hair. Your baby boy was so much bigger than Isla it made your back hurt like crazy all the time, and the worst thing of all was that your baby boy didn't wanna come out.
You prayed you wouldn't give birth before Lando finished the season, so when the season ended you were relieved. But then your due date passed, and nothing happened. Then five days passed after your due date, nothing again. 10 days after your due date - the baby just doesn't wanna come out.
You were frustrated, exhausted, and tired of being pregnant. You just wanted to be able to see your feet again and be able to get up off the couch without Lando having to pull your hand.
"It's because you make such a good home for him he doesn't wanna come out, love." Lando tried to calm you down in a nice way, not even realizing that he irritated you with that because he's been saying that for the last 10 days and your nerves have become very thin hearing it.
"I swear, if you say that one more time.." You barked rolling your eyes at him while holding your still very pregnant belly.
"I'm sorry, I'll shut up.."
“Thank you.” You glared at him.
He didn't hold it against you for your brazen response because he understood that it had become too much for you. Lately, he's been walking on eggshells around you because everything has been annoying you, and he didn't want to be the one to contribute to that.
When the twelfth day passed since your due date, you realized that too much time had passed and you even started to worry a little that something was wrong. So Lando decided to take you to the hospital, where you very clearly told the doctor that you weren't leaving the place until you gave birth.
You thought that by some miracle, as soon as you stepped into the hospital, labor would start and you would just pop the baby out and everything would be over in less than two hours just like it was with Isla, but of course that wasn't the case with this baby.
"I think we have no other choice but to induce the labor." The doctor said.
"Okay, how long does it take?" You asked. "Is it like natural labor or?"
"Induced labor can last from a few hours to a few days, it depends. It's most often completed within 12 to 18 hours from the start of the procedure."
"Oh my God" You sighed in despair with tears in your eyes and Lando immediately squeezed your hand to offer you at least some comfort.
"Does it hurt more than a normal birth?" Lando was very concerned about how painful it would be for you. While you were giving birth to Isla, Lando was of course by your side, and even though it was much shorter and easier, he was still terribly shaken to see the pain you went through.
"I don't want to discourage you and scare you right from the start, but many women have said that induced labor is more painful."
And boy oh boy was it painful.
When they gave you the drip to induce contractions, that's when the real agony began. The drip makes contractions stronger and more frequent and you can't even begin to explain what you'd compare that pain to.
You were sweating.
Crying.
Gripping the sides of the bed and Lando's hand, which at one point you thought you were going to break.
You honestly felt like dying. What was supposed to be the most beautiful experience of your life was quickly turning into a nightmare.
Lando was heartbroken seeing you like this. He was putting cold compresses on you, hugging you, kissing you, comforting you, begging you to endure this.
"I'm so sorry baby, I wish I could go through this instead of you. I'm so sorry."
He didn't leave you for a second, except when you caught a 5-minute break from the contractions and managed to close your eyes for at least a moment and calm down. Lando said he had to go to the bathroom.
He lied actually. Instead he went to the hallway outside your room where his parents were patiently waiting. By the look on his face, Cisca and Adam could see that Lando was not well and that he himself was traumatized.
Lando didn't say anything, he just hugged Cisca and buried his face in her neck, soaking her shoulder with tears.
"I'm so fucking scared for her. It wasn't like this the first time." Lando cried quietly.
"Oh honey, y/n's going to be alright, I promise you. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but soon this will pass and you'll be going home with your baby." Cisca comforted trying to lift his spirits. "Honey, you need to get yourself together, alright? She needs you right now and you need to be there for her."
When labor finally began after 14 long hours, you were running out of strength. You were so exhausted that you weren't sure if you would be able to push the baby out.
"Push y/n, push!" The doctor encouraged.
"I c-can't" You cried breathing rapidly. "Lando, I can't do it.."
"Come on baby, you can, I know you can. Just a little bit more and it's done, I promise. You've got this" He was pushing your hair out of your face, holding your hand, and holding your leg at the same time.
"Come on, push, push! I can see the head!"
Finally, the baby's cry was heard and soon the baby boy was on your chest. As soon as you saw him, all the pain instantly vanished.
He was so perfect. So worth it.
Lando couldn't contain his emotions as he rested his head on your shoulder, carefully observing his baby.
Later that day, when everything had calmed down, Lando was still there by your side. He couldn't be separated from you nor did he want to. His gaze shifted between you and the baby watching you both sleep peacefully.
He was tired too. He didn't really remember the last time he slept, but he knew you had it worse than him anyway, so he didn't even think of complaining.
"Lan?"
"Hey, love" His face lit up when you opened your eyes. When he saw you smile, it brought energy back to him. He took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Did you get some rest?"
"I did, why didn't you?" You asked him when you saw the huge dark circles under his eyes and the same clothes from the day before yesterday. "Baby, please go home, I know you're exhausted too."
"The only way I'm getting out of here is with you two."
You didn't want to argue with him because you knew it was pointless. You were just grateful that he was there and that he was yours.
"My pretty, pretty girl. I'm so proud of you." Lando said softly caressing your cheek and looking into your tired eyes. "I love you so much you know that, right?"
"I know, I can feel it. I love you too, so much." You say before kissing him. "Where are our kids?"
"This little guy is sleeping here without a care in the world."
"And Isla? She didn't come with your parents?"
"No, I told them not to bring her because I knew you'd get too emotional if you saw her, and I wanted you to rest as much as possible."
"You should've told them to bring her, I really miss her and I can't wait for her to meet her brother." You said, but you could still see the worry in Lando's eyes. "I'm fine, Lan, I promise."
"We're done with the kids. Our family is complete now."
"Lan.." You chuckled.
"No, I'm serious. I never want to see you go through so much pain again. It's been so hard to watch you like that and not be able to do anything and I'm not putting you through it again. "
"It was worth it tho. Look at him, he's so perfect. I'd do it all over again for our baby"
"I know, I know, but you're my baby too." No matter how many children you have, his protective attitude towards you will never change.
"Oh, love.." You pulled his hand to get up from the chair and come sit on the bed next to you so you can cuddle up next to him.
"I can't wait to take you home, both of you." He said quietly kissing your forehead.
You rested your head on his chest, knowing that wherever you are, as long as he's there, everything is fine.
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you-have-a-metal-arm · 5 months ago
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JAMES?
pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count : 1.2k
Warnings : Just general fluff
Summary : When you call Bucky “James”—a name no one else dares to use—he reveals to a stunned Steve and Sam.
Authors Note : Hey y’all i’m back!!! Enjoy this fic 🙈
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You stood quietly in the doorway, arms crossed as you watched him. His hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his temples, and his jaw was set in that stubborn way it always was when he refused to admit he was hurting. You let out a soft sigh. You hated seeing him like this—so hard on himself, so weighed down by things he didn’t deserve to carry.
He didn’t notice you at first, too lost in his own storm. But you stepped forward, not hesitating for a second.
“James.”
Your voice cut through the room like a blade, soft yet sharp enough to reach him. The sound made him freeze mid-punch, his metal fist stopping inches from the bag. His head turned slowly, his stormy blue eyes locking onto yours. And in an instant, the tension in his shoulders melted. His gaze softened in a way that made your heart ache, because you knew—you knew—no one else ever got to see him like this.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice rough from exertion but laced with something warmer. Something vulnerable.
Steve, halfway through a set of sit-ups in the corner, dropped to the floor in disbelief. “Wait—what?”
Sam, leaning lazily against the wall with a water bottle in hand, nearly spit out his drink. “Hold the hell up,” he said, straightening. “Did she just call you James?”
Steve sat up fully now, wiping his forehead with his shirt and glaring at Bucky like he’d just witnessed a miracle. “She did. And—” his voice faltered as he pointed a finger at Bucky, “—you’re okay with it?”
Bucky glanced at Steve, then at Sam, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. But when he looked back at you, something in his expression shifted. He shrugged, completely unbothered. “Yeah. So?”
Sam’s jaw practically hit the floor. “So? You nearly ripped my arm off when I tried calling you that one time!”
Steve nodded furiously. “He’s not exaggerating. You said, and I quote, ‘Don’t ever call me that again unless you want to find out how fast I can break your jaw.’”
“Exactly!” Sam threw his hands up. “And now she just waltzes in here, says James like it’s nothing, and you’re—what? Cool with it?”
Bucky’s gaze hardened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “She’s not you.”
“Oh, no, we get that,” Sam said sarcastically. “But why the hell is she the exception?”
Bucky didn’t answer right away. His hand flexed at his side—flesh and metal both—but his focus stayed on you, his eyes tracing the curve of your face as if grounding himself. Finally, he said, quietly but with conviction, “Because she’s mine.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Steve and Sam exchanged a look—a mixture of shock, disbelief, and maybe even a little amusement—but neither of them dared to speak.
You, however, raised an eyebrow, lips twitching as you fought back a smile. “Yours, huh?”
Bucky’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, but he didn’t back down. His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Yeah. Mine.”
“God,” Sam muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “This is so disgustingly soft, I think I’m gonna puke.”
“Agreed,” Steve said, though there was a small, knowing smile on his face as he stood up. “You two can have your… moment. We’ll leave.”
As the door closed behind them, you turned back to Bucky, who was already watching you like you were the only thing that mattered. His expression had softened completely now, the rough edges smoothed out into something raw, something real.
“James,” you said again, stepping closer, and you saw the way his shoulders relaxed, the way his lips parted slightly like he needed to hear it just one more time.
“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice quieter now.
“You’ve been at this for hours,” you said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of damp hair away from his face. “Come take a break.”
He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face like he was searching for something. “I just… I didn’t want to bother you. I needed to work it out.”
“James,” you said, firmer this time, and his breath hitched like the sound of his name from your lips alone was enough to shake him. “You don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”
His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, and his hand—metal and warm and steady—reached up to wrap around yours. He held it there, against his cheek, like he was afraid you might pull away. “It’s not just the name,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “When you say it… it’s different. It feels… good.”
Your heart swelled, and you gave him a small, reassuring smile. “That’s because I love you, James. All of you. Even the parts you don’t think are worth loving.”
His eyes closed briefly, and when he opened them again, they were glassy, like he was fighting to keep the emotions at bay. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Stop it,” you said gently, stepping closer until your foreheads touched. “You deserve everything. And I’m not going anywhere.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just held you there, close, his arms wrapping around your waist like you were the only thing anchoring him to the world. And maybe, in some ways, you were.
“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.
“James,” you murmured, brushing your nose against his. “You’re safe with me. Always.”
A soft, broken laugh escaped him, and he pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You’re all I’ve got,” he whispered, his voice muffled but full of emotion. “And you’re all I need.”
You held him there, running your fingers through his hair, and for the first time in a long time, he let himself just be. Vulnerable. Loved. Yours.
Thanks for reading 😁
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jiminrings · 4 months ago
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mature
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pairing: jungkook x reader
wordcount: 8k
glimpse: the good thing about professing your feelings to jungkook is that it'd be over with, whether or not he likes you back — the bad thing is that he rejects you, even if you haven't confessed.
alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.
[ push n pull fic YIPPPEEEEE, fluff, angst, So Much Yearning, friends to lovers trope, jealousy, dunking on a stewpid jk (as one does), arguments that kinda hit home, redemption!! ]
notes: WE R SO BACK!!!! thank u for waiting 🫂🤍
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!
You will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want to be loved.
In your defense (much to Jungkook’s offence), you want to be loved as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. He’s not pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but rather pathetic in the light that you want the entirety of him (stubbornness and occasional dimness included) to rub off on you.
You want to be loved pathetically in the same way that Jungkook never computes his expenses when it comes to self-indulgence yet always calculates when it comes to actual requirements. You want to be loved as wholly by the guy who can get by one DIY dorm dinner at a time by asking for scraps from the whole floor with a grin and his hands cupped in begging.
Jungkook’s one of your friends, if not the best you’ve ever had, and it’s a miracle that you haven’t jumped at each and every available chance to confess your growing feelings for him.
You bit your tongue that one time he bought you "one of those silly blind boxes you like" on a whim from a bookstore he only went inside to in the first place because he was dying outside in the heat, only to open it for you with your eyes closed and earn you an extra rare figure.
You had to physically restrain yourself (read: clasp your hands together in front of you) when Jungkook made you swap your counterfeit, barely-holding-on kitten heels for his trustworthy slides on the way home because your research presentation prior had you pacing nervously.
Every time that he gives you your tax of whatever he ordered (which always ends up being the best variant that your friend group could possibly order for a meal or a sweet treat), you have to etch into your head clearly, with ballpoint pen, that you will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want him to love you.
Every time that he gives you a one-on-one friend outing, just as he does with everyone else from your circle of ten people and counting (you lost count because you figure that all of you are about to outgrow the long table in the library that nobody else could fill), you convince yourself to never tell him how much you want it to be just you.
You figure that you’ll tell Jungkook that you do hold a candle for him, despite not detailing the extent, in this lifetime— maybe even the next time you get a moment alone with him, but you figure you won’t do it now; now, when he’s berating you for just a tiny sacrifice you made that’s minuscule for everything he does for you and everyone else.
“You’re impossible!” he huffs, his annoyance for you being loud enough to stop his faux display of studying and gather attention from everyone else in the library who actually is. Jungkook holds up his phone for you to read, brows scrunched at your look of amusement. “Jimin told me you were lactose intolerant!”
You can’t figure how and why Jungkook and Jimin’s conversation even flitted towards you when you recall clearly that the lactose-filled meal in question was from two weeks ago. You don’t question it because you already know that even giving it a second thought would already be too pompous of you, and you don’t question either why Jungkook looks too devastated at the realization.
“I just tolerated it,” you snort, burying your nose back into your notes, missing the flash of regret in Jungkook’s features.
He doesn’t know whether he’d feel more sorry over the fact that he didn’t know you were lactose intolerant, or that you didn’t speak up at all to preserve his excitement over eating at the restaurant he wanted to try out.
“But why would you?” he sulks, completely foregoing the textbook he has opened on the same page for the last hour.
You know exactly why you did, but you’d rather not tell Jungkook now. 
You’ll tell him some other time, that much you’re sure of, but not now — not now when he’s too devastated over your tummy issues, and not now when he’s just one revelation away from chewing you out over something he has to learn from someone else.
“Your broke ass bought it so I had to,” you murmur, rolling your eyes as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand.
“Foul,” Jungkook immediately chuckles, shaking his head at your retort even if he knows you’re just kidding around (he knows you won’t hurt him like that that), finally opening his laptop.
Jungkook, your friend, finally types on his laptop, yet it’s not for the contribution that he badly needs to put in for a group project.
Instead, he opens up the Google Doc and writes in a bullet point underneath your name, the words do not give cheese acquainted with three exclamation points — along with your name, is the names of your mutual friends and Jungkook’s observations that would come in handy for an outing, a gift, or both.
Jungkook’s that good of a friend, and that’s why you’ll never tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him.
( ♡ ) 
Getting gifts for someone who has a credit card and has no inhibitions when it comes to buying whatever they want is a difficult task.
Getting Jungkook for Secret Santa this year is even harder than the last, and that was when Jin snuck five strips of his name and left more than five of you (you don’t even know how that happened) without gifts, all while he was laughing to himself after he successfully gaslit everyone into thinking that they were all drunk and made the mistake themselves.
You don’t know what to give Jungkook that he doesn’t already have. He doesn’t have a girlfriend the last time you checked and while you can’t exactly wrap yourself in ugly, recycled kraft paper (as opposed to Jimin’s dumb, all-knowing-about-your-hidden-feelings suggestion), you’d rather not drive Jungkook away, even if you don’t know either how to drive him in.
You don’t have the slightest clue to what his ‘surprise me ;)’ scribble underneath his name means and it makes you feel guilty, far more than he ever could have after Jimin’s revelation of your dietary restrictions. 
It’s not the dilemma of who would sit next to who in the large albeit crowded dining table in the cabin that you rented out, nor is it the cooking and wrapping duties that each of you are tasked with that stresses you out this holiday season.
You wish so badly that the largest champagne problem you have at the moment was wondering if your Christmas gift for your nitpicky mom and nonchalant dad back at home arrived in time. You pray that your biggest hurdle is either convincing Namjoon that his room is just cold and not haunted, or breaking off a fight between Eunwoo and Soomin because they keep fighting over whose overpriced film camera will be used for the picture by the tree, or even talking Mingyu down from smacking Jin in his sleep.
The largest champagne problem that you have, even if it’s actually between life and living said life in peace without minding your inevitable heartbreak, is worrying about Jungkook’s gift.
You hold your breath as soon as Hoseok gathers everyone into the living room, your nerves probably getting the best of you because you hear Jungkook hollering to whoever’s closest to the thermostat to adjust it because your teeth kept chattering.
You have nothing to be nervous about, you convince yourself as Jungkook steps up into the middle and awaits with wide arms, your best friend being another victim of assuming that the comically large wrapped present is his (it’s not).
Jungkook doesn’t have any expectations for you to meet, you convince yourself as he becomes even more hyper when he learns that it’s you, so much so that he takes a lap around the backyard with his hands clapping furiously.
You can’t love Jungkook any more than you do now, you realize as you see Jungkook throw his head back in glee when he opens up your gift.
It’s only a Himalayan salt lamp. It’s only a lamp that you didn’t buy for so much. It’s only a thing that Jungkook said to you in passing one time, yet he’s beyond grateful — enough for him to carry you in his arms and take another lap around the backyard.
“God, you love me soooo bad,” he lulls, teasing you mercilessly as he unceremoniously drops you so he could adore the lamp up close. “I always wanted to lick one!”
“You’re so stupid,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at his excitement over something so simple; something so insignificant in the world of thoughtful, expensive gifts.
You affectionately think that Jungkook’s stupid, yet you can’t tear your eyes away from him.
“I didn’t hear a no,” Jungkook hums with his tongue out, eyes wide and flickering between you and the lamp. “Should I do it? Should I? I’m doing-…!”
You put a spoonful of cake into his mouth instead, the whine that escapes his throat still sounding like gratefulness to your ears.
Tonight’s not the night wherein you tell Jungkook how badly you want to be loved by him — not when he’s so preoccupied with his new salt lamp that he keeps daring people to take a lick of, not when he’s the one who’s being convinced that there’s a ghost in Namjoon's room and being bullied into sleeping in.
Not when Jungkook’s being the perfect, lovable friend that he is during the holidays and every other day.
( ♡ ) 
You’re well-aware that Jungkook’s a catch.
You know that he’s a catch and he’ll never live it down, and neither can you.
You’re very painfully aware that Jungkook’s a catch because you’re reminded of it every single day whenever you’re with your friends. You know that atleast two of them were integrated into the group in the first place because they liked Jungkook, and that doesn’t really bother you (more than it should, atleast) anymore. 
Sora’s crush formed out of boredom on Jungkook disappeared as soon as she got a boyfriend, but you understand why her gaze lingered on him in the first place.
Eunji’s crush on Jungkook already dissipated the moment she learned about his GPA, but you get why she had been attracted to his charm anyway.
You know that he’s a catch and that he’s not solely yours either, and the latter makes you humble.
“There’s flowers on your desk again,” you point out, the arrangement irking you for more reasons than one. “Why do you have to be so popular and handsome.. and lovable,” you mumble, the tail end of your mini rant barely being heard by Jungkook because he's too busy admiring his gift.
“What’s that now?” Jin piped up, eyebrows furrowed upon picking up your angry muttering. He's beyond confused, maybe just as much as you are, when you just snarl at him for his unintentional use of supersonic hearing.
“And why do I have to sit next to you even if I have allergies,” you redirect your attention to Jungkook who has to sweep the flowers to a beaten-up paper bag for safekeeping, the item in his backpack being the most used object for all of the admiration towards him.
“Because you’re the best-est friend ever,” he rolls his eyes, the faux pout on his lips surprisingly softening you instead of the opposite. “And maybe I’m the worst-est one to keep putting you through this.”
“You sound so stupid,” you reply automatically, crossing your arms and keeping them there. “But you’re right,” you exhale through your nose, conceding your defeat over willingly letting him put you through this, carrying the blame by yourself.
Jungkook doesn’t only act like this with you anyway. There’s no special treatment, there’s no false hopes being promised — it’s just you genuinely happening to fall for him.
“Come on, just tolerate it! Pinch your nose or something!”
“Why should I? Find another seatmate,” you sulk, making a point to angle your back away from him and towards Jin who’s at your right, doing his best at holding in a laugh over how ridiculous the both of you look.
“Obviously you’re the one with the latest phone so you have to take pictures of me with the flowers!” Jungkook whines, punctuating his sentence with a hand on his hip. He’s sulking because you’re sulking, and you’ve never hated him more at the moment. “Why else would I force you to sit with me?”
Jungkook’s stupid, and so are you, so you’d rather not tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him today.
( ♡ ) 
In all fairness, you thought you would lose nothing.
You thought you would lose nothing because in the first place, you barely expected anything out of Jungkook. Liking him didn’t mean that you were indebted to him, and liking you back isn’t something that he owed to you either.
You weren’t expecting Jungkook to fall on his knees and say something stupid to hint at his mutual love for you (although you did think about it a couple of times), but you atleast expected a little bit of respect from him to try and see the strength it took you to even confess.
You planned it perfectly, even taking a page off his book and making a whole word document for it wherein you spent days typing whatever crossed your mind throughout the day and erasing what seemed the most impossible throughout the night. 
In your word document, you and Jungkook would be out in the snow, skating in an outdoor rink even if neither of you know how to. You figure that you won’t attempt to drag (read: hobble with) him to the middle of the ice because in case he doesn’t like you back, the waddle back to the exit wouldn’t be as awkward; if Jungkook does like you back, you’ll still be hobbling to the exit, albeit happily.
In your word document, there’s a spine of a script that you would say when the day comes. You’ll skim along the lines of how you’ve never been so enamored with someone in your entire life (with the internal note that you’ll dial it back a bit if his expression turns sour), of how bright he makes your days for you, and how he doesn’t have to be obligated to like you back.
In your word document, you’re set. You’ve planned a foolproof blueprint of what would turn out, whether or not Jungkook is set on loving you the way you desperately want to be —
Except now, Jungkook completely undoes everything you’ve ever worked for.
Now, he looks at you with a glint in his eye that looks more apologetic than it is endearing. You don’t even know what led to your heartbreak exactly because one minute, you were just studying, and by the next, Jungkook’s already letting you down even if you haven't had the chance to rise.
You swear on your life that you weren’t giving any signals at all that you were actually about to confess. You were only silent, refusing to talk to him because you were too stressed over your task and that you were scared you would burst into tears if you tried mouthing the formula out loud, yet Jungkook mistakes it for your love.
Whatever you do on a daily basis, whatever you do based on your nature, Jungkook mistakes it for a confession that he wasn’t even supposed to hear until the end of the week.
He wasn’t wrong about the fact that you love him — what he’s wrong about is his assumption that your silence around him when it’s just the two of you, right now while you lose your mind over an assignment as you’re dressed in last week’s sweater and last semester’s horror, is your confession.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook winces, gently patting you on the shoulder as you’re yet to digest his rejection. “But I just don’t think we’ll work out.”
( ♡ ) 
You theorized that getting over Jungkook would be fairly easy on the chance that he rejects you after your confession.
You figure that Jungkook himself as a concept would be drastically difficult to move on from because he was just so lovable. He doesn’t know how to read a room and it’s one of his better quirks when you’re worrying over nothing. He doesn’t know much about knowing when to let up, and it comes in clutch when he’s pushing you to wholeheartedly do an assignment even if you’re already burnt out from crying.
Jungkook, as a concept, is indestructible. He’s the everyday variant of the goodness that some frat guys possess occasionally. He’s the realistic, attainable version of a main lead in a manhwa that’s only perfect 1/4 into the plot. 
He’s the manifestation of every good deed a stranger has done for you, except he’s someone you know with your heart and not just someone you could sketch from memory. 
With that, you also figured that moving on from Jungkook can’t be that hard because he was too out of reach despite being in the same friend group as you. Surely, it wouldn’t be so catastrophically hard to move on from a guy who just gasps for air every five minutes when he’s in charge of cooking in the BBQ hangout (instead of using the exhaust like a normal person), or from a guy who thinks citing references for a paper is only a suggestion.
The funny thing about it all is that you never actually confessed to Jungkook.
Actually (and contrary to the assumptions of the other friends you have from your circle), you’ve never said it to his face that you do have a crush on him. You’re ultimately known to be the friendliest person to ever walk the campus, and while not the most confrontational, they atleast expected for you to confess to Jungkook in your own way.
What actually happened was that Jungkook read through you — he does happen to be right about your feelings for him! He’s the second friendliest person right beneath you, and so the way he rejected you should never sting this much.
Jungkook thought it out meticulously. He read into the way you spent extra attention listening to him with your eyes practically gleaming. He read into the way you’d lag back behind him and hold him by his wrist whenever you were all crossing the street. Hell, he even read into the way you would take a shot at opening the extremely tight water bottle from the vending machine before everyone else.
The funny, tragic thing about it is that whilst Jungkook wasn’t wrong about pinpointing your feelings for him — you never confessed.
Jeon Jungkook, the second, ultimate friendliest man that your university has ever known, rejected you without even hearing the actual words from you.
He’s turned his back on you even before you could reach him, and the realization sinks in you unsettlingly. You never expected for him to like you back because it would be unfair of you, and you knew that; what just happened to hurt you most was that Jungkook didn’t even think twice.
He hadn’t given you the chance to pour your heart out at the very least.
He hadn’t even given you the space to breathe right after the rejection, because he skips and puts a smile on before winking, telling you that he’ll never speak of it again because you must probably be embarrassed.
The funniest thing about it all is that you aren’t embarrassed — you’re actually devastated about it.
It’s an odd event for Jungkook to feel lonely because with such a big friend group, he never thought he’d feel a little empty despite literally rubbing elbows in a circular table. He never thought he’d come to be a little annoyed at Jimin and his routine, playful, borderline offensive banter he’d always have with you at the top of the morning, and he never thought he’d even be more annoyed over the absence of it.
There’s one less laugh in the circle. One less bag strewn underneath the table, one less coffee order written on the notes app, and one less person to look for when hanging out.
You’re missing from the friend group, and oddly enough, Jungkook seems to be the most devastated about it.
“Why is Y/N not here?” he asks in the middle of Jin retelling his drunken fishing story, grabbing the attention of everyone in the table and maybe just about everyone else’s in the common area with the way his voice is frantic. “And why is she there with the new kid instead?”
Everyone flits through separate conversations after Jungkook’s interruption, some even wincing to themselves because although they know about your admiration for the guy and not your confession-that-wasn’t-one, they figure that nothing good could come out of Jungkook sucker-punching the new kid in his head.
“I don’t know, man. Buddy system, maybe?” Jin shrugs, stealing his food because it was obvious that Jungkook’s attention is everywhere but himself and the table.
Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms tightly to the point that even he feels a little suffocated. His entire face is crumpled with hurt, eyebrows furrowed out of frustration when you still aren’t looking at him; when you’re still not looking at him with confusion in your eyes, silently telling him off for glaring.
“Buddy system? We’re in uni. Who the fuck would bully that guy?”
“By the looks of it, probably you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffs, refusing to unclench his fists on his thighs.
“Well, what’s it to you that Y/N’s hanging out with someone new? What are you so heated for?” Jin elaborates, eyes flitting to you again.
Jungkook could only glare at you.
“What are you so nosy for?” he asks defensively, leaning back on his chair in a faux display of relaxation when all he wants to do is to remove the stupid smile on the guy’s face as he watches you talk.
Unlike Jungkook, Yoongi’s not stupid at all — in fact, he’s been vigilantly aware of Jungkook’s glare on the side of his face ever since you sat in front of him.
Yoongi’s not stupid, so he angles himself in a way that Jungkook gets to see him more. He doesn’t know the guy personally, but he does know of him and his “charm” that seems to make everyone go nuts for him. 
If looks could kill, then Yoongi would’ve already had mourners at his feet, but if provocation could poison, then Jungkook would already be frothing at the mouth.
The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t even know about your admiration nor your foiled confession to Jungkook. The latter hasn’t even done anything personally to him. 
All he knows is that you’re in a big friend group and that you chose to sit with him, your friend whom you share a couple of advanced classes with but not a friend-friend like Jungkook is, and that you’re very easy on the eyes and admirable yourself if he thinks about it (he doesn’t need much time to ponder over it) — and, that he doesn’t really like being glared at.
“No really, I insist!” he laughs, pulling out a handwritten reviewer from his backpack with a grin. “I don’t know anybody else who likes making reviewers anymore by hand, so really, you’re just perfect to get them.”
“But you worked so hard on them,” you gasp, eyes already widening in both surprise and awe at the thick stack of papers in front of you. Yoongi’s handwriting and formatting are perfect; there’s no unnecessary calligraphy, the vividness of the highlighter is just right, and there’s even sticky notes at the bottom for additional details and references you could cross-check. “I.. I don’t want you to feel that I’m taking advantage-…”
“But I offered! You didn’t ask for reviewers from me shamelessly like every other opportunist does,” Yoongi laughs, throwing his head back as he slides the papers closer to you. “I’d be a really shitty senior not to give you any help. If anything, I think you deserve even better than-…”
Jungkook can’t resist.
Jungkook can’t take any more of watching you and Yoongi push and pull over whatever topic he can’t hear nor force Jin to eavesdrop on. He can’t take another second of seeing you be so happy talking to a guy that he doesn’t know, so much so that he comes up to you without a second thought.
“Hey,” he greets, his body only turned to you, completely ignoring Yoongi and blocking him off from your sight. “You didn’t order any coffee.”
You angle your body slightly to excuse yourself, except Jungkook conveniently happens to mirror your every move, confusing you even more. “Oh, I wasn’t feeling like it,” you trail, looking up at him in confusion while Yoongi could see right through him.
“Really?” Jungkook replies, the smile on his face being far from amused, eyes narrowed as he tries to catch up with the own annoyance that he harbors. “Because I’m seeing two coffees right now, and one’s in front of you, so…” he trails, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly.
Jungkook’s jaw is still clenched, along with his fists by his sides. He’s standing tall between you and Yoongi with his shoulders squared and his face steeled, the immovable forces that are him and the unnamed pit in his stomach starting to garner attention.
Namjoon has his phone out. 
Hoseok only has one cheek remaining on the seat because he’s ready to stand up and collect bets. 
You’re still sitting, mostly confused, when you realize the attention that’s starting to build towards the three of you.
“Yes, Jungkook. Great observation,” you snicker, the discreet roll of your eyes making him take offense.
“Oh okay, I see. So you were lying by saying that you weren’t feeling it, and I don’t get the hold-up of you-…”
“What did you come here for now, Jungkook?” you angrily whisper, keeping your head down as you retain your gaze on him and lightly tap at the table to indicate to Yoongi for the both of you to move. “It’s a little far-fetched for you to come all over here to pick a fight about coffee.”
Jungkook huffs, turning his head back to Yoongi behind him because he most definitely saw your signal. The lazy, amused gaze of Yoongi is what sets him off even further, the anger in his eyes unmistakable, except you recognize it for only what it is and not jealousy, because Jungkook doesn’t see you like that.
Or atleast that’s what the both of you assume.
Jungkook, your best friend, scoffs loudly.
“You sound so defensive right now.”
( ♡ ) 
You don’t respond much to Jungkook’s calls. 
As a matter of fact, you don’t respond much to Jungkook at all.
You don’t show up whenever he’s present, meaning that you’re only magically available whenever there’s half of your friend group at the most because if there’s more, then the search for the missing members would ensue, then you’d end up squished in a long table next to Jungkook again.
It’s very much like him to form grudges, yet he can’t even tell if he’s capable of having one towards you. Jungkook, with all his chest and afflictions, wants so badly to hate you because you’ve been blowing him off ever since he literally and physically came between you and Yoongi.
He apologized to you for that (and not to Yoongi because he didn’t really matter to him at all), and he doesn’t know the answer for it yet because his messages still remain unread. He’s enlisted the help of your mutual friends on various occasions by trying to get them to give all his little treats for you, yet you refuse them as soon as you catch wind that it’s from Jungkook.
He even tried studying for real in the library in hopes that reverse psychology (he thinks that’s what it’s called) would work and that thinking he doesn’t want you to come would make you do the opposite, yet it still doesn’t work. Jungkook’s already mad that he studied for nothing (he’s more interested in getting you to notice him than to actually learn), but he becomes even more heated to realize that your anger for him is just directed at him alone.
You still talk to your best friends, with the exception of him, and Jungkook has never been more envious of people who are apparently of the same status as him.
Jungkook wants you to drag him like you drag Sora to the nail salon and have you whisper at his ear to tell the nail tech not to cut your cuticles because you’ve been afraid of getting them done since that 1/34th part of a medical drama episode you watched on your phone.
Jungkook wants you to complain to him like you complain to Namjoon when you’re frustrated with a professor whom you’re convinced is only critical to you and no one else, later making him promise not to tell anyone else from your friend group because they like said professor.
Jungkook wants you to run to him as you always did, just because you feel like it. He wants to sit in silence with you again and put his hand on your knee when you’re in the verge of tears just looking at your schedule for the week.
He wants to stand guard again outside the bathroom door of the expensive coffee shop because it’s either the lock is broken or because Namjoon's managed to instill in you the existence of ghosts in cold spots.
He wants to be the Jungkook like you’ve always known, again, because it seems like you’ve forgotten him completely. You have the Yoongi now, it seems like — the smarter, more composed, and more charismatic variant of him that he wants to get rid of because Jungkook never predicted the existence of him.
Even more, Jungkook didn’t even entertain the concept of him being replaced because it was always the two of you together, even in a sea of friends. 
He’s your best friend, your confidant even, but nothing more — all Jungkook feels is that he’s even less than the status the both of you are assigned to be. 
He’s angry and sad and disappointed all at the same time because he thought he had almost lost you since he rejected your confession. You were fine; you were as fine as you could be for someone rejected when it comes to yearning to be his, and yet the moment you let Yoongi in, Jungkook feels as if you threw everything the both of you had just for him.
“Just so you know, student-teacher relationships are illegal,” he corners you one morning in your dorm, two godforsaken weeks after chasing you around the campus yet turning up empty.
“What the fuck are you on about?” you immediately scrunch your nose at him, the accusation he throws at you being too farfetched to the point that you don’t even think of shutting the door at him, ignoring Eunji’s betrayal for you by pretending to come over.
“What am I on about?” Jungkook exasperates, the scoff that leaves him making you feel small in front of him. “You’re literally the one who’s getting chummy with fucking Yoongi of all people!"
"Yoongi's a teaching assistant! He's our senior! Do you not know that?"
"Do I look like I'm interested in any other people outside of our circle?" he retorts, lips turned up in a snarl. Jungkook provokes you with a sarcastic glare, the look on his face enough to make you throw your head back in irritation.
"Come on, even Jin and Jimin are friends with Yoongi and-..."
"This is not about them!" 
"But you just-..." you stop as soon Jungkook interrupts you, losing your gaze on him for a single second to close your door and when you look back, you find that he’s already comfortable being vindictive on your bed, his arms crossed and his back straight.
"Also, teacher and teaching assistant both have the word teach so it's literally still illegal," he narrows his eyes sarcastically, the tone to his voice unclear despite his words suggesting otherwise. "You look so stupid right now."
"Jungkook can you stop?!" you burst, your temples stinging at the back and forth that Jungkook’s thrown the both of you in. “What the hell is going on with you?"
Jungkook had sworn to himself up and down that he has so much stuff to pick with you. He knows he has so much baggage to unpack and how much shit he has to bring up, even if it’s only been two weeks with you. He’s partly relieved that you’re in front of him and you still haven’t fled, yet a large part of him is beyond frustrated with you because you don’t even look like as if your time apart has taken a toll on you.
Between the two of you, it’s only Jungkook who looks like his distraught has manned him completely beyond surrender. Even coming to see you by hatching a plan with a hesitant friend is something he considers an act beyond surrender — whatever the space is between surrender and demand is where Jungkook lies with you.
"No, what's going on with you!” he argues, standing to his feet to come face-to-face with you. “You can't just spin this around when I've done nothing but be a good friend to you!"
"You think I'm not being a good friend to you just because I don't spend every single minute attached to you? I can still hang out outside of our friend group without being-..."
"This is not about our friend group!" Jungkook emphasizes once again, the tell-tale sting of tears behind his eyes coming up because he feels as if you can’t hear him no matter how much he repeats himself. ”This is about us and how you abandoned me ever since I rejected you!"
"I didn't abandon you, Jungkook!" you spit, pushing at his chest lightly with your finger to get him to back up from your face yet he refuses to. He’s still insistent at staring you down with his jaw clenched, eyes wide and unblinking because he knows that if he moves even just a millimeter askew, he’d cry. “You didn't even give me the chance to confess to you! You rejected me without even hearing me out. Do you think I would still be able to talk to you, face to face like how you want so badly, as if nothing happened?"
"The answer would've been the same even if you confessed,” he grits with his chest heavy, not at the way he keeps holding his breath in order not to break down in front of you, but because you look at him with so much disdain that it makes him want to puke.
"Do you not think I know that?" you laugh humorlessly, gnawing on your bottom lip as you don’t drop his gaze. “Do you think I didn't prepare for that possibility? I knew what could've happened if I confessed and I'd still be okay with it, Jungkook!" you raise your voice, throat already giving out at the slightest pressure because you know you lost the fight ever since you let him in. "What I'm not okay with is that you didn't even give me the chance.”
It’s evil, really, with the way no amount of self-pity could ever pull you from the grave you’ve dug up. You went for Jungkook, carrying all grief you knew you were bound to feel, and yet you still feel unprepared. You still feel unworthy even moping for someone like Jungkook because not even his rejection, nor anyone else’s acceptance of your admiration by some sort of miracle, is enough to make you feel like you’d be missed.
Your two weeks without Jungkook is your rehearsal for the two months, then two years, then two forevers eventually without him by your side. You had still been able to live by yourself and with your friends, excluding him, and you thought you were fine because it feels as if nothing had changed.
You thought you were fine until Jungkook gets in your face to tell you that it’s not, and all over again, you’re reminded of how desperately you want to be loved by him to the point that you’d rather drown in your own pity to try and preserve whatever’s left of you.
"I told you the answer would-..."
"Shut up!" you cry, steeling your nerves when you realize that Jungkook’s angrily crying in front of you, wiping at his eyes hastily. ”For the love of god, shut up!"
Jungkook stays quiet, not because you told him to, but because nothing good comes to mind when he realizes that you’re crying because of him.
"See? You don't even get where I'm coming from because you're not even giving me the chance to explain myself without making it all about you,” you sob, finally pushing him away, to which he lets you. "That's the problem with you, Jungkook. You're too self-involved."
"Not true," Jungkook whispers, shaking his head earnestly even if he feels the stupidest he has ever did in his life in front of you.
He follows your steps out of routine even if his brain had convinced his system that he hates you just seconds ago, arms instinctively trying to crowd you when you almost trip on the flooring on your way to the coat rack.
"Since you keep insisting that I abandoned you," you chuckle dryly before grabbing your jacket, turning your back on Jungkook and on your own space, which had just been the default hangout place of the both of you for the longest time, in pursuit of your own quiet without him. "Let me follow through."
Jungkook doesn’t want to tell you how desperately he wants you to want him again, to love him as you already did, and neither do you.
( ♡ ) 
The perks of having a big friend group is that the absence of several members wouldn’t make that much of a difference when it comes to hanging out. It would still sustain itself without a few extra voices joining in on the chatter watching movies and the bullying when it comes to a forgotten birthday greeting here and there.
The downside of being in one, is that said big friend group doesn’t matter at all to Jungkook when you’re not in it.
The lengths that your friend (read: a word that Jungkook’s come to abhor) has went through since your fight at your dorm are basically incomprehensible because he’s fully involved himself.
He’s pining after you pathetically, just like how you had always dreamed of, yet seeing him take turn after turn just trying to gain your forgiveness for something you’ve always pitied yourself for makes you feel guilty.
In Jungkook’s defense, he wants to be forgiven and loved (again) as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. Not only is he pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but also pathetic in the light that he wants the entirety of you (stubbornness and occasional sharpness included) to rub off on him.
“I know I’m stupid. I-I.. I know that I was unfair for not even letting you confess your feelings because I felt like dying when you started to ignore me,” he mumbles to your bedsheets, his legs crossed on the ground and his head muffled by the fabric because he doesn’t even want to sit next to you in fear of you revoking his chance to apologize in person, again, as if that’s not what he had been doing the past weeks. “Y/N, you don’t deserve someone as stupid as me and I hate it so, so bad.”
The sound of Jungkook apologizing to you has already been repeated enough to the point you’ve learned when to tune him out, but with the way his heart precedes his tone this time, you stop folding your clothes in favor of Jungkook who’s just two seconds away from passing out on your bed by fabric conditioner-bathed quilt-induced suffocation, to which he couldn’t pass up on because it was your scent and he missed hugging you.
“I can’t catch up with you on anything that you’re talking about with Yoongi. The only times I open a book are when I want to look at you but I don’t want you to see me. I can’t— I can barely even talk to you without feeling like I’m beneath you,” he admits lowly, the truth of his rejection finally springing up a little too much, and almost a little too late. “I thought, stupidly, that we wouldn’t work because you deserve someone better.”
“I don’t need you to catch up with me, Jungkook,” you murmur, lightly slapping his cheeks because he looks sleepy from all the sniffing he’s done on your quilt, but really, his eyes are only narrowed into slits because he feels like he’s about to cry. Again.
“But I need to, b-because when we run out of things to talk about that you’re willingly to dumb down to my level, what else could we catch up on?” 
“You’re not stupid. I just say-…”
“No. Don’t make excuses for me,” he laughs lightly, still sat on your carpet obediently like a dog because he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. “I’m beneath you and I didn’t want to drag you down with me because I.. I didn’t feel that you deserve me,” he confesses. “But I want you so badly, Y/N. You have no idea.”
Jungkook wants you so badly, that in your insistence of self-pity, it was his self-preservation that led him to cry by himself when you finally left the library after not-confessing to him.
He wants you so badly, that in his fit of self-preservation disguised into stubbornness, he had tamped down his desperation for you.
“I want to catch up with you, not you to slow down for me,” Jungkook rests his chin on your thigh, his wide, pleading eyes looking up at you. “I’m so sorry, my baby. I’m so, so, so sorry for being stupid enough to let you go the first time,” he tilts his head, resting his cheek on your awaiting hand. “Please. I’m just begging you to slow down for me this one time,” Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, nudging your hand gently with his cheek. “Please let me look stupid trying to earn you.”
Jungkook, without fail, tells you how desperately he wants to be loved by you.
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theonewiththefanfics · 28 days ago
Text
An Itch You Can't Scratch (one-shot)
Synopsis: After taking a bad fall, Y/N gets rushed to the ED of Pittsburg Trauma Medical Hospital only to come face to face with a man she had a one-night stand with, and who ghosted her that same morning without a word - Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch. As if her bad day couldn't get any worse than it was...
Pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!Reader (age-gap relationship (Reader is 26, Robby is implied 46-48))
Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT
Warnings: descriptions of wounds (open breaks), puke, swearing, etc., SMUT
Word count: 13,319 (yeah, this sort of started out like a cute little chaotic story and became... this. I might make more parts to these two, people like it enough, because I already have some ideas, and ideas for other stories too also, let's please pretend like Robby didn't have the worst shift of his life and everyone is happy and alive :) )
Please don't copy my work or repost it onto other platforms. all of the characters belong to HBO Max.
Catch Pt 2 here :)
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In all honesty, Y/N thought Sara was overreacting. There was no need to be hauled to the ER on a Monday morning, at seven AM. So, what if she’d slipped in the shower? So, what if she’d hit her head against the towel rack? So, what if she’d sprained her ankle? Y/N could just pop a couple of Tylenol and be on her merry way, but no.
            When Sara had heard the thud and the subsequent crash of shampoo and conditioner bottles, she’d rushed inside the bathroom only to find Y/N sprawled out in all her naked glory. She cursed the stupid bathroom latch their landlord refused to change.
After Sara had had her fill of laughter, she helped Y/N stand, get somewhat dressed (a loose cotton shirt and some shorts), and helped her hobble down the stairs of their apartment, her leg in a make-shift splint of dishtowels and left-over wood paneling from an IKEA dresser.
            A groan of protest escaped her as Sara parked in the hospital parking lot and rushed to the passenger door, opening it for Y/N and helping her get out.
            “You are worse than my mother,” she huffed as she leaned her weight onto her good leg. “I am completely fine.”
            Sara sighed, and Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming. “My love,” she said. “My other half. The Yin to my Yang, the milk to my matcha. My partner in crime for whom I would kill and/or dispose of a body. I can quite literally see the fucking bone sticking out of your lower leg.”
            “It’s a sprain,” Y/N gritted through clenched teeth.
            “It’s an open fucking break and the fact that you refused to have an ambulance called, boggles my fucking mind, yet here we are.”
            To that, Y/N had nothing to say, but still, she thought Sara was being way too overdramatic. And honestly, if she kept mentioning the real situation of her sprain, making her remember the sound of the snap, how it had been the worst sound she’d ever heard, and Y/N had spent more than twenty years listening to her brother singing in the shower, before she moved to Pittsburg for her job, she would put Sara in a hospital bed herself. And then they could be the ED besties.
            But the worst was the pain that came when Sara reminded Y/N of why she had to go to the hospital.
            It had been a miracle no neighbor had called the cops or the EMTs themselves, though it didn’t necessarily comfort Y/N either. If she could scream bloody murder like that and nobody batted an eye, it didn’t say anything good about the complex they lived in.
            One look down had confirmed Y/N’s worst fears – she had, in fact, broken her leg. Not only that, it was an open break where part of her bone was sticking right out of the meat of her calf. For the first few moments, she’d been in such a shock, that the only thought running through her head was – I look like a poor man’s version of a Disney turkey leg. Then she’d started screaming. And that had made her puke.
            Right then and there, still lying half out of the shower, half on the floor, she’d emptied her stomach. There hadn’t been much in it, just the cup of water she’d drank when she’d awoken, but still. At least Y/N had been in the bathroom when it had happened. Tiles were easier to clean up than carpet, and she already felt bad enough Sara would have to wash the floor.
            But now, as some form of punishment, no doubt, Sara was helping Y/N hobble towards the emergency department of Pittsburg Trauma Medical Hospital, when a sad-looking man noticed them and rushed inside, grabbing a wheelchair, and getting by Y/N’s side in a matter of a second.
            “Here, sit down.” The man, Dennis Whitaker he introduced himself, took hold of her other bicep and moved the wheelchair behind her.
            “I’m fine,” she groaned. “I’m not an invalid. I can make it inside on my own. Besides, that wheelchair could be used for someone that actually needs it.”
            “You actually need it.” Sara levelled a gaze at her. “And I will make you a fucking invalid because I will clock you so hard in the head, you will have a concussion, if you don’t have one from the fall.”
             For a tense second, Y/N stood (or wobbled) her ground, Y/E/C eyes locked onto Sara’s hazel ones which were slowly narrowing with each passing moment until she cursed and said, “Alright fine.” Together Whitaker and Sara lowered the injured woman into the wheelchair. “God, I hate your mom-stares.”
            “It’s the only way to get you to do anything in terms of taking care of yourself.”
            “It’s not!” Y/N protested. “I’ll have you know, I made myself an omelet yesterday for breakfast. Veggies and all.”
            “Yeah, after I berated you that a stale Coke from three days ago, isn’t actual breakfast.” Sara walked side by side as Whitaker pushed the wheelchair into the madhouse that was the emergency department.
            It was fascinating to observe the situation as an outsider – nurses and doctors were like level-headed owls, their heads swiveling this way and that way, as they assessed the patients and their statuses, while the residents and patients themselves, not all, but quite a bunch, were like headless chickens, rushing around and trying to prioritize afflictions or become a priority to the doctors.
            Codes were called left and right, people moved from one side to the other, snapping on gloves and donning protective gear, and in the center of it all, was the command post – the nurse’s station which Whitaker had wheeled her to.
            “Dana, is there a room available?” he addressed a slim, blonde woman, probably the one in charge.
            “Room six is available, what’s the, oh,” she stopped mid-sentence as she noticed Y/N and the bone sticking out of her leg.
            “I don’t mind waiting,” she gave her a sheepish smile. “There’s probably loads of people before me. Besides, it’s just a sprain.”
            “Well, that’s probably one of the worst sprains I’ve ever seen,” Dana deadpanned as she motioned with her head towards someone behind them.
            Y/N shrugged. “Well, I am just special like that.”
            “Yeah, maybe in the head,” Sara grumbled as she gave the charge nurse all the necessary info for the moment. “Speaking of which – she also hit her head when she went down with her… sprain.”
            Dana’s lips quirked up as she hummed and tapped something on her iPad, weaving around the table, leaving Whitaker to follow her like a lost puppy as they moved to the room Y/N was now assigned to. “We’ll schedule you a CT ASAP.”
            Y/N turned her head to look at her best friend. “Given how this little trip was your idea, you’re paying off my medical debt.”
            “Just let these nice doctors and nurses take care of you.” Sara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Because quite honestly, I’m not too into the idea of searching for a new roommate. Do you know how many creeps I’d have to go through? And what if the one normal one I find has a fatal flaw?”
            “Such as?”
            “I dunno. What if they hate musicals?”
            “Oh, the tragedy.” Y/N pressed a hand against her chest as they wheeled her inside the room.
            There was another presence there, a young doctor, probably late twenties or early thirties. A cute little dimple on his chin, dark hair, and blue eyes. Reminded her a bit of the guy from Air Bud, if she squinted a bit.
            “My name’s Dr. Langdon,” he introduced himself, giving Y/N a reassuring smile. “And this is Dennis Whitaker, our fourth-year medical student. Would it be alright, if he and another one of our residents observed the situation today? This is a teaching hospital, but it is well within your rights to refuse.”
            She shook her head. “Observe away. Not much I can hide.”
            “Alright, thank you.” He ventured out for a quick second only to come back with a young woman who introduced herself as Dr. Mel King, a second-year resident. “Okay,” Dr. Langdon said. “Let’s get you onto the bed and see what we’re working with.”
            The three medical professionals surrounded her and helped Y/N move from the wheelchair on the paper-covered bed, without jostling her leg too much, but it was enough.
            So far, she’d been able to take her mind off the pain by distracting herself – she bickered with Sara, recited the script of The Hunger Games movie in her head while fantasising about a blond Josh Hutcherson, because Peeta was just elite like that. She’d even gone so far as to go over the division table, but now, as more attention was being placed on the broken leg, it started to hurt more and more. It was like Y/N mind-over-mattered an itching spot left by a mosquito by chanting “It’s not itchy” over and over in her head, but the second she stopped, the itching came back in full force.
            “So,” Dr. Dimple, she nicknamed him in her head, started. “What happened?”
            Y/N sighed, looking at the ceiling. “Can I just give you the not-humiliating version and say I’m a klutz?”
            He gave her a charming smile as a nurse prepped an IV line. “Unfortunately, we need to know beyond “clumsy”. The environment where this accident happened is important.”
"It could introduce pathogens into the wound," Mel, as Dr. King had requested to be called, said.
            Y/N chewed on her bottom lip before muttering, “I slipped in the shower and sprained my leg. And then got assaulted by some shampoo and conditioner bottles… and then I threw up.”
            “And don’t forget the head!” Sara said from the door where she still stood, observing the work happening.
            Y/N threw her a knowing smirk. “Never do. And I haven’t had any complaints yet.”
            “The throwing up could indicate a concussion,” Whitaker said. “Dana’s already scheduled a CT. And in terms of the leg, you actually have an open fra-,”
            Y/N took hold of Whitaker’s bicep like he’d done so for her when he’d helped wheel her inside the emergency department. “Please listen to me when I say this – unless you want me to hurl all over you, and trust me, I can aim, the only thing I have, is a sprain. Got it?”
            He gulped and nodded, stepping away from Y/N like a man who’d gotten sprayed by too many fluids in one day and didn’t want to be anywhere near the danger zone. “Loud and clear Miss Sprained-Ankle-Woman.”
            “Good.” The nausea that’d started creeping up her belly subsided. “Because I can deal with you people having to do things, but if I have to actually listen to any of it, or think about it, I will be sick.”
            “We can give you some anti-nausea medication for that,” Dr. Dimple soothed. “But first, we’ll get you a CT, and then we’ll have a surgery room prepped for you because you need to get this reset as quickly as possible. You will probably have some metal plates and screws to hold the uh… sprain together, and then a cast for about six to eight weeks.”
            “Great,” Y/N grumbled. “This is just fucking great. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my vacation, before, oh… oh, absolutely not.” Y/N’s eyes widened to a comically large size as she looked past her room and into the waiting area. “Sara, you need to get me out of here right the fuck now.”
            “Hey, woah, what is going on?” Dr. Langdon rushed to where Y/N was trying to get the IV line out. “Please don't do that, you'll only hurt yourself more.”
            “Y/N, what’s going on?” Sara’s brows were pulled tight in a frown, as she tried to help Dr. King get the oxygen monitor back onto her finger. “You need surgery, for fuck’s sake.”
            “It’s him,” she hissed, not taking her gaze away from where it’d locked on. “And I don’t want to spend a second anywhere near the dick.”
            “Who?” Sara swiveled her head to look beyond the glass separating them from the chaos beyond. “Who’s the dick?”
            “Him.”
            And then four pairs of eyes locked onto the man standing and talking with the charge nurse at The Hub, Y/N was glaring at.
            “Do – do you two know each other?” Dr. Dimple asked.  “Do you feel unsafe with him around?”
            “Yeah, you could say we know one another,” she scowled and crossed her arms as Mel managed to finally reattach the oxygen monitor, all of their attention onto her. “That’s the dude I hooked up with two weeks ago, and completely ghosted me that same morning.”
            Every single head snapped to look back at Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, who’d also finally noticed Y/N was at his workplace, as a patient no less. His eyebrows were right up to his hairline, brown eyes wide with disbelief and mouth agape as she glowered at the older man.
            It was quite a surreal moment – all of these capable doctors and residents and nurses, stunned by the information so bad, that they almost seemed to forget Y/N was there. She wondered what was going through their heads, as this seemed like it wasn’t a regular occurrence. Which stung even more – if Michael had been a fuckboy, she could take it, but it didn’t seem so. So, what was wrong with Y/N that had made him run away after the night they’d spent together?
            When they’d met at the bar, he had told her he was an emergency department attending. The big boss of his little duckling residents, dutifully running the hospital department with the help of the nurses.
Why, when Sara had finally managed to get Y/N inside the car, it hadn’t occurred to her, he would work in this particular hospital. Just why?
Y/N couldn’t say. Maybe she’d hoped he worked the night shifts. Maybe she’d hoped, he worked somewhere else, or even out of town, but, of course, for whatever sins she’d committed, karma couldn’t do her a solid one.
            Sara gasped, rushing by her side as Y/N watched Michael flounder and try and decide what to do – whether to interfere and face the music or run away from the hospital. He apparently chose the latter as he twisted on his heel and high-tailed it to the other end of the department, leaving a cackling Dana behind.
            “That’s him?” Sara strained her neck. “That’s the hot doctor?”
            Y/N scoffed. “The one and only. Couldn’t even leave a fucking note or something. Like I can take a hint a one-night-stand is a one-night-stand, alright? But don’t just fucking bolt out of the door like your ass is on fire before the other party wakes up. Fucking dickhead.”
            “Well, maybe it wasn’t as fun of a night for him, as you thought, and he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Sara raised a brow.
            “Oh, trust me,” Y/N smirked. “It was a very fun night for him. I would know. I was there, and you can’t fake the kind of shaking. Four hours will do that to a guy,” she winked and touched the tips of her pointer finger and thumb in an A-Okay sign.
            “Yeah,” it was Dr. Dimple smiling at her, the grin on his face almost wolfish in nature. “Yeah, you are absolutely my new favorite person in the world.”
            However, whatever he wanted to say or ask, was cut short when Dana returned to inform that her CT slot was coming up, and so Y/N was wheeled away, not daring to look at Michael as they passed one another in the hallway.
            As the results came back for a minor concussion, the anesthesiologist informed, that they recommended a spinal for the surgery, while the team prepper, but Y/N shot it down immediately.
            “Absolutely not. Look, I know it’s not safe to go to sleep after a concussion, but I will not be listening to the sounds of some bone-carpenter crunching on my leg. Put me under,” she gave him her most pathetic look. “Please.”
            The specialist still tried to argue, but he couldn’t do it much longer, as Y/N needed surgery as soon as possible, so after five minutes of strongly recommending the spinal, he relented and in half an hour, Y/N had managed to get hers – she was out like a light, without a sound in her ears.
            It was the best sleep she’d ever had in her life. Like floating on a cloud, surrounded by doves and angels singing her lullabies. She never wanted to wake up, but something was rousing her out of the blissful state.
            A large warm hand around her palm, thumb rubbing the top of it, was soothing her senses. It was like hot chocolate after being out in the sow. Or sitting by a fireplace with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
            “Good afternoon, Miss Sprained-Ankle,” a low, rumbly voice greeted Y/N as she floated back into consciousness. Her eyes locked onto two gentle, brown ones, and despite the medication, she knew she wasn’t hallucinating him.
            Michael’s face was beard-covered like it had been when they’d met. He still had the same worry lines on his forehead and the crow’s feet around his eyes. Y/N had said she liked those the best.
            “It shows you’ve smiled and laughed despite everything else,” she’d informed him over the rim of her Pornstar Martini.
            She couldn’t truly imagine just how draining his line of work was, both physically and mentally, but the laugh lines she could see hiding under the beard, harmonizing with those around his eyes, was a feature Y/N had noticed first.
            “So,” she slurred her tongue a swollen mass of sandpaper in her mouth, and Michael noticed that, holding a cup of water against her lips until she’d had her fill. “Do I have to keep breaking bones to wake up with you next to me?”
            “I hope not.” With gentleness Y/N knew he possessed, yet didn’t expect, he brushed away a droplet that’d slipped past her mouth, and onto her cheek. “I hope this is the only time I ever have to see you in such a state.”
            “Can’t promise that,” she shook her head. “I do have a reputation to uphold.”
            “Yeah?” amusement was evident on his weary face. “And what kind of reputation is that?”
            “When I was in first grade, on the first day of school, I broke my arm. And then like a few months later, I smashed my face against a radiator and split my lip open. Still have a scar,” she pointed right below her right nostril where a sliver of lighter skin was. “And then, but that was like third grade or something, I smashed my head against a metal railing and split my head open. I could even push my fingers inside and scrape my -,”
            “Okay, I understand,” Michael interrupted her and pulled the hand that was tapping against the hairline on her forehead. “You are an ED connoisseur, but please, don’t make this a habit.”
            “Damn, straight I am.” Y/N gave a confident nod, but before Michael could ask anything else, she said, “You know what I don’t get? Like why did my leg bone hurt while sticking out of my body, but my teeth that are sticking out right now, don’t?” She clacked them for emphasis. “They’re outside bones.”
            A soft smile bloomed on Michael’s face as he brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. She could feel someone had put her hair in a protective style and had to wonder if it had been the man beside her. But that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would he care like that for her?
            “For one,” he muttered. “You broke your fibula – the smaller bone in your lower leg, and in doing so, hurt the surrounding things like muscles and skin. That is one reason why you felt such pain. And two – if you broke a tooth, it would hurt too. Your cavities hurt, don’t they?”
            “Mmm,” a self-satisfied smile bloomed on Y/N’s face. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a cavity.”
            “That’s good. Dentists aren’t cheap.” As a response she just clacked her teeth again, making Michael laugh. “How are you feeling? Any pain? Nausea?”
            “Nope, I am A-Okay. Honestly, that was like the best sleep of my life. Well…” Y/N pouted, taking her gaze away from Michael’s. “That night when I fell asleep with you is also up in the Top 5, but then I woke up and… you know… you weren’t there.”
            She was obviously delirious from the medication being pumped through her veins, but much like when Y/N was drunk, she was a throw-up-remember-everything kind of a girl, instead of a black-out-drunk. Besides, it wasn’t like she could run anywhere. Quite literally.
            Michael sighed, dragging a hand down his face, visibly cringing at her words. “About that… I – yeah, I think the only thing I can say is I’m sorry. For, you know, ghosting, as you youngsters say.”
            “ ‘S alright.” Y/N shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, as if the second she’d seen him, she hadn’t been ready to bolt. “I’m over it.”
            “No, no it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have done that. Because that night was… great. It was amazing, actually. And everything leading up to the uh, you… you know, the...” he cleared his throat, and a smirk pulled up on Y/N’s lips.
            “The sex? Come on, you can say it in your big old man age. It’s just three letters.”
            “Jesus Christ.” Michael rubbed his neck as a slight pink shade crawled up his neck, which made Y/N let out a chuckle at how uncomfortable he looked talking about this. Maybe it was time to let this go, for his sake and her own sanity.
            “Look, if it makes you feel any better,” Y/N shifted to the edge of the mattress and patted the side of her bed, so he could sit down. After asking if she was sure, he did take the offered space. “I – I’ve been treating you a bit unfairly with this. I think my ego was a bit crushed after waking up and not having you there, but, umm… you’re off the hook. Besides, I think I’m in your debt with all of this. Your team is amazing.”
            “They’re pretty great, aren’t they?” he mumbled, one of his hands having moved to toy with the wristband the hospital had assigned to Y/N. “But still, how I reacted then, and even earlier in the morning… it wasn’t right. I mean, I’m pushing fifty for fuck’s sake. That’s not what someone my age does.”
            “So what?” she raised a brow. “The issue is you think you’re a cradle-robber? Because you’re no more that than I am a grave robber. I’m twenty-six, Michael,” she turned her palm up hoping he’d accept it and slide his hand in hers. After a moment of hesitancy, he did, and Y/N squeezed it in reassurance. “I mean, if you think you’re doing something bad, by having slept with someone two decades younger than you, I’ll have you know, according to regency times, as a woman who’ll be turning twenty-seven this year, I’m pretty much a decrepit old spinster.”
            Michael let out a soft laugh as his fingers trailed the lines on Y/N’s palm. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Me? I’m your probably dad’s age.”
            “And looking hotter than ever, if you ask me.”
            “Yeah? You think so?” He asked as Y/N hummed in affirmation. “Well then, for a decrepit old spinster, you are beautiful. And acting with much more grace than I deserved or deserve.”
            Something in the way he said those last few words made her heart squeeze. “Michael… of course you deserve grace.”
            “You’re being far too good to me… you’re far too good for me…”
            Y/N’s brows furrowed at that. Slowly, she attempted to rise in a sitting position, but she didn’t get far before Michael had his arms around her waist, like they’d been two weeks ago, pushing a pillow to stabilize the small of her back. Once he was sure she was comfortable, he opened an apple juice box and handed it to her.
            “To get your sugar up.”
            But she just stared at him, only reaching for the little carton after he’d resumed his previous sitting position. “Is that what this is about?” she asked. “Some insecurity you think I deserve better than you? Because I can decide those things for myself. I am an adult. With a fully-developed frontal lobe, mind you.”
            He took in a deep breath, held it for a second, then released it, and Y/N watched that whatever kind of decision he’d come to, had released a certain tension that’d been accumulating in his body. “Kind of, I guess. But mostly…” he swallowed, then nodded to himself, eyes trained on her wristband. “Mostly I got scared.”
            “Of what?” Y/N tilted her head. “I mean, I know my morning breath probably isn’t that attractive, and the smeared makeup made me look like a coked-out raccoon, but -,”
            “No,” Michael shook his head, chuckling. His cheeks were reddish at her words, but as he lifted his eyes to hers, there was a grateful look to them. Like he was thankful she wasn’t making fun of him even in his ripe old age. “You,” he stumbled over his words a bit, “when I saw you there, sleeping by my side like you belonged… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than that. And that’s when I thought to myself – if I worked up the courage, could there be more mornings like that? Could I make you breakfast and coffee one day? Maybe I’d get the privilege of falling asleep next to you as we watch movies at night. And that scared me.”
            “The possible future?”
            “Wanting that possible future, because that feeling, the one that started to grow right here,” he tapped the center of his chest. “I couldn’t think straight. So, I had to go.”
            “I mean,” Y/N swallowed hard. “That is a lot to imagine after only a few hours together.”
            “Does that… creep you out? ‘Cause it’s totally understandable if it does. I mean Jesus, I’m old… and you’re so young.”
            “No, it doesn’t.” And she meant it when she said it. “I find it actually quite endearing, but you can stop being so hung-up on the age difference. If you think there might be some daddy issues on my side, I can assure you – there’s none. I quite like my dad, and I definitely don’t see you as such a figure. Not after the things you did to me. ‘Cause, quite honestly, sex with you was probably the best dicking-down I’ve had in a year.”
            If Michael had been drinking anything, Y/N was sure he would have choked with how he sputtered at her words. “Well, uh, yeah, I uh… I’m glad you… enjoyed it.”
            “I did. And I know you enjoyed it too,” her smile was nothing short of wicked.
            “Yeah, and apparently now the rest of the residents and nurses and doctors know it too?” Michael raised his brows at her.
            It took Y/N a while to realize he was talking about when she’d gotten admitted and spilt the beans on their night together, implying their copious amount of copulation. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, but I’d like to think your reputation has now gone sky-high between the female nurses and doctors. Maybe the guys and theys as well. But I do apologize for talking about your private life while at your work. In my defense, until that very moment, I didn’t know you worked here. And well, I was pissed.”
            “You and your mouth will get you in trouble one day,” Michael pointed at her.
            “Yeah? Would you like to put something in it, to shut me up? Last time, you really liked it when I -,”
            “Okay, trouble, that’s enough.” Even though his words had a finality to them, humor glowed on his features. He seemed relaxed. Content even, as he took the now empty apple juice box Y/N had been sipping on this whole time.
            “You on a break?” She started scooting down the bed once more, and Michael instantly helped her get situated.
            “Want to get rid of me so quickly?”
            “No. It’s just you’re spending an awfully long time with me. Don’t you have other patients to check in on? I don’t want you to waste your time if you need to get to someone else. Or maybe grab a bite to eat? I’m fairly sure doctors don’t know how to have a good work-life balance, despite continuously recommending it to us, mere mortals.”
            “Time with you isn’t a waste.”
            Oh.
            Oh, how badly did Y/N want to rip off the little wires connecting her to the heart monitor, because had Michael not turned the sound off, she was sure the whole hospital would be hearing it go nuts at his words, the squiggling beat of it a treat for only Michael this time, because when he noticed it, a smirk bloomed on his mouth. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to, not when he murmured, twining their fingers together, “I want to kiss you so bad.”
            “I definitely won’t be opposed to that.” Y/N’s answer might have come way too quickly, but she was beyond feeling embarrassed about wanting him. “You have permission to kiss away. For as long as possible. All day, every day, whenever you want to.”
            “Well, thank you for that,” Michael chuckled, cupping her cheek, and she leaned into the touch. “But… not right now. Let me take you out on a proper date. Let me do this right.”
            “Oh my God, seriously?” Y/N whined throwing her head back. “You’re gonna make me wait? Especially after that whole speech and whatnot? You are a cruel, cruel man Dr. Michael Robinavitch.”
            Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he leaned to hover over Y/N, a golden necklace slipping from the inside of his shirt and dangling before her. She wanted to pull it between her teeth like she’d done so during their one night together. It took every dwindling ounce of willpower not to.
            “Maybe, I just want you aching. And yearning. You were the one who said men don’t yearn enough nowadays. But I have. For you, for two whole god-damned weeks. Now it’s your turn.”
            It was pathetic how Y/N wanted to cry and whimper. “But I didn’t even do anything! You were the one that ran out! Why am I being punished for your actions?”
            “Do you – do you not want to go on a date with me?”
            “I do, but I’d rather you rail me as soon as possible.”
            “Well, for one,” Michael tried to continue on as if Y/N’s words hadn’t made heat creep up his face, but he could only do so much. He was a human, after all. “You’re not allowed any strenuous activities until you’ve got a clean bill of health. And two, all teasing aside, I want to do this properly. I want to do right by you this time.”
            “Why would you?” she exasperated. “I wasn’t complaining when you didn’t do it right by me, and I’m certainly not going to if you suddenly decide to stop being chivalrous. Maybe even right here. We could recreate some scene from Grey’s Anatomy?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him, eliciting a deep rumble of a chuckle.
            “Grey’s is just a malpractice lawsuit after a malpractice lawsuit, and I, unlike the characters there, don’t want my medical license to be revoked. Until you get discharged, I’m one of your doctors.”
            “My hot doctor, you mean.”
            The sigh that left Michael was not weary or a worn-out kind of noise. Rather it was a resigned I-guess-this-is-my-life-now kind of a sigh, especially combined with the endearing look on his face, it made Y/N feel warm all over.
            Slowly, as they talked a bit more, her eyes began to droop, exhaustion from the morning, from the surgery and the subsequent consequences settling in once more. “Will you stay?” she asked as Michael brushed a knuckle along her jaw. “Just until I fall asleep?”
            “Of course,” Michael took her hand in his, sitting down by her side again, as he pressed a kiss to her wrist. “And I… I wish I could promise I’ll be here when you wake up, but I, -”
            “I know,” Y/N interrupted him with a soft and understating smile. “By that point, you’ll probably be off saving lives. It’s why I’m not asking you to.”
            “I’ll try though.” He promised.
            “Okay.”
            And with her hand still in Michael’s, Y/N drifted off once again without even realizing it was pitch-black outside, and Michael hadn’t been wearing his shift scrubs. He should have long been home resting, and yet, he hadn’t been able to leave her. Not like he did before.
            By the time she awoke early the next morning, Y/N was clearheaded, and yet all her thoughts mulled over the conversation she’d had with Michael the previous night. Would he go back on his word? Had he only talked with her like that because she was high on pain meds, and maybe thought she wouldn’t remember their discussions?
            She knew he hadn’t promised to be there when she awoke, so Y/N didn’t hold it against him, but she couldn’t deny the sting. But that was immediately soothed by the hoodie that’d been laid over the back of a chair.
            His hoodie.
            A promise he would at least have a reason to come back and check in on her. It was Dana, the charge nurse, peeking her head inside that pulled Y/N back into the present. “How are we feeling today? Ready to be discharged? Dr. Langdon will be with you shortly for a follow-up.”
            The woman in the hospital bed groaned. “Can’t I just stay here? Like you people – you are normal. Sara will be a mother hen on crack. I am willing to brave hospital food, as long as I don’t have to go home to all that fussing. She’s probably already bullied our landlord into installing a lift or something.”
            “She cares for you,” it was Dr. Langdon piping in, as he entered her room, pulling on a pair of gloves and nodding to Dana in thanks. “You’re pretty lucky to have a friend like her.”
            “Yeah, I know,” Y/N sighed as Dr. Langdon looked over her leg, asked some questions about pain levels and talked her through the post-op care. “But in my defense, she has a tendency to overreact.”
            “I’d say you have a tendency to underreact, but that’s just my professional opinion.”
            She rolled her eyes as Dr. Langdon finished his assessment and handed off her chart to Dana, so they could start the discharge process. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.”
            “In any case, I do think the whole ED is in debt to Sara.”
            To that she raised a brow.
            “Well, had she not made you come in, I don’t know if Dr. Robby would have had a chance of seeing you again. Because, if I have to be honest, we’ve all been scratching our heads the past couple of weeks trying to figure out why he’s been in such a mood. Now we know why.”
            “You two shit-talking me?” Michael’s soft tone interrupted the conversation, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the entryway. “How are you feeling?”
            She tried and failed to hide the heat creeping up her veins. Even if Y/N had succeeded, that damned monitor, the sound no doubt having been turned back on by Michael before he left, to make sure if anything went awry at night, someone was there for her, betrayed her anyway. God, she wanted to punch the smile off both the men's faces.
            “Fine.” She turned her head to look at the wall, as a nurse stepped in and removed the IV catheter and wrapped her hand in gauze. “Not looking forward to the itching that will appear, in what? Three days?”
            “No scratching,” Dr. Dimple pointed at her with a pen. “You could injure yourself and cause a serious infection. No rulers, no knitting needles, no crochet needles, no twigs or branches, no nothing.”
            “But what about -,”
            “No nothing,” he emphasized. “Or I will have to recommend Dr. Robby make a house call on you. Though that isn’t much of a threat for you two, is it?”
            “Okay, Frank? Scram. Now. There’re patients that need checking on. I can take care of Y/N.”
            “Yeah, I bet you can,” Dr. Langdon let out a laugh but was out of the room before either she or Michael could say anything.
            The only thing Y/N was happy about, was that the comment had made not only her flustered, but Michael as well, as he shifted on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous tick. In the end, he gave her a smile that said “Sorry about him” and padded over to where he’d left his hoodie.
            And that only made her even more flustered, because seeing a man like him, so level-headed and sure, get visibly nervous over her, did things to Y/N. Which made her want to do things to Michael, but then Dana returned, two crutches in hand, Whitaker wheeling a wheelchair once more, and all passion slipped away.
            “Right, thanks.” She eyed the crutches like they were cow-eating pythons. “I fucking hate my life.”
            Low, warm laughter filtered through the room as Dana helped Y/N get redressed and situated her in the wheelchair, crutches placed over her knees as she was rolled to the nurse’s station.
            “I uh, took the liberty of calling Sara for you,” Michael said as he leaned against the table. When Y/N raised a brow in question, he elaborated, “She’s in your emergency contacts. Should be here in fifteen or so.”
            “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
            “I know,” he smiled. “But I wanted to.”
            And there it was again, that warmth that blossomed in her chest, only this time she let it spread, let it wrap around her heart and wash away that bitterness, that’d been there since the morning Y/N had woken up cold and alone.
            It hadn’t been just the sex, though that night Michael had given her some of the most earth-shattering orgasms she’d ever had (thankfully, Sara had been away with her girlfriend, so she didn’t have to suffer through the teasing).
            It was the conversations leading up to it, the sense of ease Y/N felt around Michael. He was witty and sarcastic, his humor dry, but not at the expense of others while being engaging and thought-provoking at the same time. What had sealed the deal for her though was when he actually engaged in the debate, she presented him – if he had to kiss a fish-spider hybrid, what would he choose – fish head, spider body or fish body, spider head?
            He’d made her laugh so hard she cried, and when Y/N had deemed it was time to call an Uber and go home, she’d taken the risk and asked if he wanted to come to her place. And after a few moments where she wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole, he’d nodded.
            Together they waited for the cab, standing side by side, yet not touching. He’d opened the car door for her, before slipping in himself.
            The tension could be cut with a knife, and afterwards, Y/N had given the driver five stars for enduring it, while the whole way, one of Michael’s palms had slowly moved to rest against her thigh, and she’d had to clench them together because if she didn’t, there would be a noticeable wet spot underneath.
            After an agonizing half an hour's drive, they finally got to her place. Michael held the door open for her, and insisted on paying for the Uber, no matter how much Y/N protested.
            Every step towards the apartment she was renting on the fourth floor of the complex, was agony. As she fumbled for her keys, Michael’s fingers were slowly skimming the side of her dress where the zipper rested.
            Y/N’s whole body was a live-wire, and she wondered how in the world had the lock not melted from the heat, as it slid in place and she unlocked the door, the motion now forever having a sexual connotation, for in that moment Michael was the key that would unlock her desires.
            Together, they stepped beyond the threshold, and yet still, he never once removed his touch from her body. From that damned little black number. She’d only worn it because she’d been set up on a blind date. They were supposed to meet up at the bar for a drink before going to a play, but as it turns out, even guys who like theatre can ghost.
            When Y/N realized the situation, she wanted to go home, as her date was the one who had the tickets, pull this thing off and drink the already opened bottle of wine that was in the fridge, but she could have at least one good cocktail before that.
            That’s when Dr. Robby, or as he’d asked her to call him by his first name, Michael, slid into the seat next to her. They didn’t talk for the first five minutes, not until she’d been scrolling through Instagram and some post had caught her eye. Something about green tea enemas and glowing skin, and the man beside had released a heavy-duty sigh, accompanied by “fucking Dr. Google.”
            It’s when slowly but surely, they’d struck up a conversation, which had now resulted in Y/N having Michael towering over her, his beard scratching against the crook of her neck where he’d placed his chin.
            When his hands wove and settled against her stomach, any sort of resolve she’d had, snapped. Instantly, she turned, weaving her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to hers in a bruising kind of kiss. The kind that left you breathless and dizzy and wanting more.
            She felt an insatiable thrill rush down her spine as Michael responded with just as much vigor, the pads of his fingers digging deep into her hips and pulling her to be flush against his chest, so much so, that Y/N could feel his own desire growing in his groin.
            “I’ve never hated clothes more than I do right now,” she giggled as Michael grappled with the door handle and pushed it close without disconnecting from one another.
            “Then let’s get them off, shall we?”
            The way he dragged the side zipper open, was almost reverent, worshipping even. Like he wanted to prolong the build-up between them, and Y/N couldn’t lie – she was loving it, even if she was losing her mind. So many times, when she’d had hook-ups, guys tended to just get her naked as fast as possible, which was fine. She was down for it, but there was something indescribable about how Michael reveled in feeling her slowly start to tremble, in how he kissed up and down her neck, while his fingers took their sweet time. It drove her insane with want, in an amount she’d never felt before.
            His pointer finger dragged its way up Y/N’s bicep, making goosebumps erupt all over before he slowly slid a strap down. Then the other, until the dress was pooling around her waist, and still, where usually she’d be helping the guy shimmy herself out of the dress, Michael didn’t rush. He simply allowed his hands to explore her body, skimming along her ribs and up to the black lacy number she’d worn, then right back down.
            “You counting if I have all my ribs in place, Dr. Robby?” Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to alleviate the gathered tension, for she was just about to combust, but all she got was a soft smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck where her pulse was visibly thrumming.
            “I don’t have much time in my day to stop and admire art. So please, indulge me. And art, which I’m allowed to touch, should be revered even more so.”
            Her eyes may or may not have rolled to the back of her head at his words, and he hadn’t even gotten his head between her legs yet. Yeah, Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, the attending of a trauma centre, would be the death of her.
Name of the deceased - Y/N Y/L/N. Date of death - 4th of April, 2025. Cause of death – self-combustion. Reason for self-combustion – a sexy as fuck doctor.
            Quite honestly, if that was how she was going to go, so be it.
            Finally, though, after what felt like ages, her dress was shed, leaving her only in her underwear and strappy high-heels she’d worn.
            “If there is one thing I hate, it’s not having a photographic memory,” Michael grumbled as his hands skimmed along the waistband of her panties. “But trust me when I say this, I will be picturing this moment for decades to come.”
            “You are more than welcome to have a look at what’s hiding underneath,” Y/N said. Or that is what she would have said, had she not simply whimpered in response. Not very sexy of her, but the feeling of his chest rumbling with a laugh, totally made up for it.
            She gathered enough of her bearings to step out of the fabric around her feet and move them along to her room. Never did his eyes leave her, never did his gaze waver or wander as they faced one another, her queen-sized bed behind her.
            “You are awfully overdressed,” Y/N mumbled, allowing herself the luxury of running her palms along the still-covered planed of his chest. His breathing was steady, but to feel the erratic thumping of his heart excited her beyond measure. It meant all that composure was just an act, and she was thrilled she’d be the one to crack it.
            She was just about to move her fingers to the buttons of his shirt when Michael slid down to his knees. If his hands hadn’t been resting against her thighs, she was sure she would’ve buckled and crashed. And Michael, damn the man to hell and back, knew it, if only by the smirk that stretched his face as he unlaced the strappy heels she had on and helped her stand on her feet.
            Y/N covered her face and groaned, throwing her head back. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Torturing me?”
            “Torturing you?” A kiss against her navel. “The only person being tortured tonight has been me. At the bar. In the car. Even now, you’re driving me crazy. So, if this is torture, simply consider it payback.”
            With the gentlest of touches, only a doctor could manage, Michael skimmed over Y/N’s stretchmarks, scars and blemishes – pieces of herself she didn’t particularly like, but the way he touched her… it was like he was mapping out the carve-marks of a Michelangelo statue. She was Venus and those – the history of her life.
            By the time he got back up to her mouth, she was a trembling mess, her nails digging into the muscles of his back, as finally, to her relief, he allowed her to rid him of the shirt.
            Much like he’d done to her, Y/N allowed herself the pleasure of exploring his body, mapping out the ridges and slopes of his chest and abdomen, before moving around to his back, and once they made their way to the small of it, she dug her nails against the skin there. The groan she was rewarded with, was sweeter than the cocktail he’d bought her.
            “Is it okay, if I touch you here?” Michael’s fingers slipped along the tops of her breasts before they moved to her back where they toyed with the clasp of the garment.
            “More than,” Y/N’s words were a breathless whisper by that point, and her inhale stuttered in her chest as she deftly snapped it open.
            It was clear he had experience, and not just because he was two decades her senior, but probably also because he’d done so in the trauma center, he worked at. For a brief, stupid second, she wondered how he could still find such acts pleasurable when he’d no doubt had to have done it during horrendous emergencies, yet all that was wiped away when Michael lowered his head and his teeth grazed a nipple.
            Her sharp gasp echoed around them, and Y/N weaved her fingers through his hair, pushing his face closer, as he lavished at her chest. The next day, she was sure, there would be bruises and love bites blooming like flowers across her chest and sternum, not to mention the delicious beard burn.
            Y/N moaned as he pulled the peak into his mouth, but when an uninhibited thought entered, it made her throw it back in a deep groan.
            “That feel good?”
            “So fucking good, but also, so yeah, I,” she stammered trying to get her brain to cooperate and create a coherent sentence. “Okay, so I just imagined you in glasses, and this got like ten times hotter.”
            “Glasses?” Michael chuckled, pulling slightly back and looking up at her. “That’s what does it for you?”
            “Correction – you in glasses. Though you right now are so doing it for me too. But that image just… yeah… kinda glad you don’t have any on. I’d probably be a pile of ash by this point.”
            “Now that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” He said, slowly moving to her other breast, but not neglecting the one he’d already loved on, by cupping it in his large palm. “I mean, I’m just getting started.”
            Yeah, Y/N was dead and done for.
            As he continued licking at her chest, the hand that’d been fondling one of them, slid down her front and tentatively brushed against her clothed core. It was a single knuckle right against where her clit was, but it was enough for her to jolt in his grasp. Michael just steadied her and held tighter around her waist.  
            Once he deemed Y/N’s breasts worshipped enough, he trailed back up between them and covered her mouth with his, yet the knuckle, that damned fucking knuckle, still slid against her pussy. He could no doubt feel how wet she was, the material, though there wasn’t much of it anyway, soaked through so bad, her thighs were already sticky.
            “Michael please,” Y/N was now openly begging. She was way beyond feeling embarrassed for such a move when in the span of half an hour, he’d reduced her to liquid fire. No one had ever made her feel this wanted. This needed. And she desperately wanted and needed him too.
            “Tell me what you want,” he murmured, as he pushed his thumbs beyond the waistband of her panties and started to lower them down. The cool air hit her exposed core, and Y/N released a breathless moan. “You gotta tell me what you want and don’t want. I’m not gonna go any further until you do.”
            “I want you to touch me.”
            “I am touching you.”
            She could feel him smirk as his hands took hold of the globes of her ass and squeezed.
            “No, I want you to touch me there,” Y/N whined and tried to chase his mouth with hers, but Michael pulled back, shaking his head.
            “Gotta be more specific than that, sweetheart.”
            She debated on pulling away completely, on not giving him what he wanted either, but she was pathetic for this man. So, instead, she took one of his hands and guided it from where it rested against her ass, towards the front, sighing in relief as he let her do so. With her fingers guiding his, they slid to rest between her legs as Michael slowly, ever so exploratory, found her clit. She pressed her hand harder against his, so he could match the pressure on her core, and when he did so, overwhelming pleasure flooded her veins.
            “There,” Y/N breathed. “I want you to touch me there. And then,” she moved his hand deeper, by the wrist, until she could feel the pads of his fingers nudging against her entrance. “I want you to put three of your fingers inside me, while you suck on my clit, until I’m a crying mess.”
            As Y/N lifted her head back to look at him, there was absolutely no sign of the warm brown irises that’d looked at her so gently at the bar. Sure, it was dark in the apartment, yet even in bright daylight, she’d bet all her student loans, only two black abysses would be staring back at her, especially with how fast his chest was rising and falling.
            “And then?”
            God, had his voice dropped even lower? How did he manage to make it so gravelly, yet smooth as the darkest, most succulent chocolate?
            “And then…” Her fingers trembled as she moved her hands to the front of his pants, undoing the buckle and flipping open the button, lowering the zipper as she went. All the while, Michael applied steady pressure on her clit, circling the bundle of nerves just enough to drive her towards the edge, but not enough for release to come. “And uhm, then…” She pushed his pants down as far as they would go, letting them bunch around his knees.
            It took barely a moment for him to step out of them completely, kicking them to some forgotten corner of her room, leaving him in only his boxers. Somewhere along the way he’d lost the shoes and socks, but Y/N wasn’t about to go and hunt for them. Not with how he still circled her clit with those experienced appendages.
            “Yes?” He raised a brow and pressed harder against her clit, making her pull in a sharp breath.
            “And then,” Y/N trailed a teasing finger along the band of his boxers, for once delighting in how his abdomen muscles went taut, and his obviously hard dick twitched inside the confines. “And then I want you to fuck me. However, you want to. As long as by the end of it, neither of us know up from down and left from right.”
            When she cupped him over the clothes he still had left on, it seemed like it snapped something in Michael, some taut, already fragile wire, that’d begun fraying ever since she’d invited him back to her place. Because this time when he kissed Y/N, it was a hungry kiss. A man starved being served the most lavish meal of all.
            She was on the mattress in a matter of seconds, body covered by his towering frame. They molded perfectly together, Y/N thought. When she rolled her hips up to get at least some form of friction, he responded in kind, clearly searching to satiate his own desire.
            Michael’s hands slid from her shoulders down the length of her arms before intertwining their fingers and bringing them up and over Y/N’s head, not once disconnecting from the kiss.
            “You keep them there,” he instructed, breathing the words into her mouth. “And when I’m done with my appetizer, we’ll move on to the first of the main courses.”
            “Appetizer?” Y/N squeaked out. A good hook-up in her books was at least two orgasms, usually only having one. But calling eating her out an appetizer, and then having a numbered list of courses, was something else completely.
            Michael’s only response was that same damned smirk she’d learned could only mean torture, as he made his way between her legs, and without wasting another second, diving in between them.
            The first lick of his tongue was a broad, all-encompassing one. And Y/N could only hope her neighbors had some good noise-cancelling headphones at the ready.
            His forearms had settled against her hips and palms splayed themselves over her stomach to push her down against the bed, as she tried to chase his mouth.
            And what a mouth it was.
            Who knew the soft-spoken trauma doctor she’d met on a random Friday night at a bar while waiting for a date that never came, would be the creation of the Devil himself?
            But when he pushed two thick fingers inside, shortly followed by a third, just like Y/N had asked, all thoughts flew out of the window. The way he curled them in an attempt at finding that spot that made her gasp and choke on air, the way he scissored them, stretching her, preparing her for the first course he had in mind, was diabolical.
            Her first orgasm came unexpectedly. She could feel it like a wave – pushing and pulling – but she hadn’t expected the moment it crested and shattered against the rocks, swift and sharp, coming without a warning, all due to the teasing that’d happened before, no doubt.
            Michael rode it out with Y/N, until her hips stopped grinding against his mouth, and he could gently remove his fingers from her pussy.
            He placed a soft kiss against the inside of her thigh, the skin raw and tender from his beard, that now glistened with her juices.
            “ ‘M sorry,” Y/N mumbled, an arm thrown over her eyes as she came down from her high and tears streamed down to her temples, just like she’d requested.
            “Whatever for?”
            “Didn’t warn you I was coming.”
            As the aftershocks receded, and she removed her arm, she found Michael looking up at her completely puzzled. “And why would I need a warning? I could tell, you know.” He rose to hover over her. “The way you were clenching. Fucking proud of it too.”
            “No, I mean,” she huffed, trailing a hand down his chest. “Sometimes guys don’t want to… you know… have that in their mouth. They’d rather finish a girl off with their fingers and not have to… taste it.”
            Now that was one way to kill a mood, but Y/N had already opened her big mouth and the words were out.
            “And why wouldn’t I want to taste it, hmm?” Michael tilted his head at her, as his hands drifted up and down her sides, over her breasts and clavicles, to skim along her neck and finally settle on the pillow beside her head. “Why wouldn’t I want that, when it’s the end goal? You got your tears,” he kissed the corners of her eyes where the salt still lingered. “And I got my wine.”
            Her gaze drifted to the beard, the one she would be feeling for days to come, as she went about her life. The one that was glistening with the remnants of her orgasm even in the dark, and Y/N wondered, what it would be like to sit atop it. To have him pull her down by the waist as she claimed his mouth for her throne. They were such salacious thoughts, for a moment, embarrassment flushed through her, but come on! After such an eating out, Y/N was allowed to fantasize.
            “And by the end of this, if you let me,” Michael mumbled, a golden chain dangling in between them. Quickly she snatched it between her teeth and pulled, making him come closer. “I’d like to do so at least once more.”
            “You are absolutely welcome to it. Morning, noon and night.”
            But at that moment, Y/N had no intentions of allowing him to go for another round, as when he leaned down for a kiss, she lifted a leg over his hip and twisted, throwing Michael off his balance and onto his back, with her now on top.
            “But right now… you had your starter.” She gave him a wicked grin. “And I’ve yet to still have mine.”
            “Fuck me,” was all he managed to groan out as he threaded a hand through his hair, head pressed tight against her silk-covered pillows while Y/N rid him of his boxers.
            His length sprang free, thick and aching. It slapped against his abdomen and her hand curled around it immediately to give him some sort of relief, precum dripping from the tip. Or maybe, she intended to do quite the opposite.
            He’d taken his sweet fucking time riling her up. She could take hers. But it was the way he let out the smallest of “please”, the way his eyes locked onto hers, practically begging to put him out of his misery, that did her in. She’d tease him come morning. For now, she was way too aroused herself to deprive her body of his any longer.
            Y/N gathered a bit of saliva in her mouth and let it drip down onto his length, before dragging her tongue along the vein at the base of it, her lips wrapping around the tip as she made her way up and giving it a gentle, yet firm, suck.
            Michael’s hips jolted, and a hand grasped onto her head. He didn’t push it down or pull her hair in any way, more so it seemed he needed something solid to hold onto as she pulled his length into her mouth, until it hit the back of her throat, making both of them choke.
            “You don’t need to do that,” Michael started, ready to pull Y/N away if it became too much for her, but she stayed there, relaxing her muscles bit by bit, until he was so deep down her throat, her nose brushed against the hairs of his pelvis.
            “Fucking. Hell.” Those were the only two words he managed to express before Y/N trailed her mouth up and started to really suck him off. After that, it was just grunts and groans, his hand tightening and then unclenching in her hair, but never pressing, never pushing her to take more than she wanted to. Michael was completely immersed with her pace, and ready to take whatever she gave him.
            That sort of power could make anyone lightheaded, and when Y/N started to feel him twitch in her mouth, she pulled completely off.
            Instantly, his eyes snapped open, head rising to look at how she climbed his body and settled her knees around his hips, pressing her core down against his length. She was just about ready to let it slide inside when Michael’s hands closed around her waist and stopped her.
            “Condom,” he breathed out, chest rising and falling rapidly, probably the only word he could manage, which was great, because at least one of them still had some thinking skills left.
            “Shit. Fuck. Right, yeah.”
            Leaning over to her nightstand, Y/N half-fell over the bed to open the lowest drawer. In between her panties and vibrator, was a little foil packet which she fished out. She was glad of Michael’s unwavering hold, because the way she was precariously dangling over the edge, could end badly and with a stupidly gotten concussion.
            When she was back to straddling him, opening the packet and rolling the condom on his length, their eyes met.
            Michael rubbed his thumb in a circle on her hip. “We can always stop if you don’t want to go any further.”
            “I’m not a quitter,” Y/N scoffed, yet it didn’t elicit the smile she was aiming for, as he rose into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around her, hers resting onto his shoulders.
            “And this isn’t some race or competition. You can revoke consent anytime you want. And so can I.”
            “I know that,” Y/N nodded, her gaze softening at his words. He could easily create a power imbalance between them. With double the decades of age and experience on her, Michael could be pushing at her limits, trying to twist things into teaching her how to properly please a guy and so on, yet throughout all of it, his focus had been zeroed in on her wants and needs. She shifted a bit in her lap at the thought that she hadn’t checked in with him. “Do you want to stop?”
            “No.” His voice was soft but sure, and then, after a moment of him searching her eyes, the smile she’d hoped for, formed on his face. “But uh, and that is obviously if you are alright with it, I wouldn’t be opposed to adding your… friend… to our activities sometime later.”
            “My friend?” Y/N tilted her head in confusion. “Oh…” A furious heat exploded through her body, and not because of the fact Michael’s cock was slowly rubbing against her clit, the head nudging just right for pleasure to zing through her.
            He’d obviously noticed her vibrator, though the bright purple shade would be hard to miss. “You’re not turned off by it?”
            “Why would I be? You’re a woman who has needs. And if that’s how you take care of them, it’s completely fine. I mean, as long as you’re being hygienic and safe about it. Besides,” Michael breathed against her neck, as his hand slid between their bodies and he grasped himself, lining the tip up with Y/N’s entrance. “Real men see them as tools to use to their advantage, not competition. And well, not to stroke my own ego,” he smirked, “but I don’t think I have any competition here.”
            Y/N wanted to call him out for that statement, but he wasn’t lying. Not with the way his length stretched her out as he pushed inside. The fingering beforehand was incomparable to the feel of Michael sliding inside at a slow and agonizing pace, but one she desperately needed and welcomed.
            He was thick and veiny, all ridges and girth, and so, so perfect for her.
            It took a minute for him to be fully sheathed, and a minute more for Y/N to adjust, her forehead pressed against his, while he rubbed his hands up and down her back while she settled.
            This wasn’t fucking. This was sex. This was intimate, and it was something she hadn’t known she’d wanted from a partner. Usually, it was fast and hard, leaving both her and the guy she was with, panting against the sheets. Satisfied in the sense that both (hopefully) had had orgasms, but something was always missing. Now, Y/N knew it was this – time.
            Time spent exploring one another, time spent learning and teaching, and time spent simply enjoying each other’s bodies.
            “You good?” Michael muttered, shifting ever so slightly and making the tip catch a spot inside of her, Y/N had only reached with her purple “friend”.
            “Yeah,” she nodded. “You?”
            “Yeah.” Michael kissed her. Whether as an affirmation of his words or simply because he could, she didn’t know. But neither did she care. He was the best kisser she’d had the opportunity to enjoy, so she’d take it.
            While they kissed, Michael started moving. At first, it was slow rolls of hips, figuring out what movements made both of their breaths hitch and hearts pound, but it wasn’t long before Michael was on his back, knees bent as Y/N bounced up and down, his thumb pressed against her clit the whole time.
            Her second orgasm of the night was a more controlled approach. She could feel the coil tightening in her abdomen, and when Michael started lifting his hips up to meet hers, Y/N listed forward, balancing herself against his chest.
            “You gonna come?” he breathed against her ear as she pressed her chest against his, Michael’s hands wrapping along the small of her back and holding onto it, so he could fuck up into her pussy. “I can feel you clenching around me. Fuck, you feel good.”
            “Michael,” Y/N moaned his name. Not Dr. Robby or Robby how he’d explained the people in his life called him, but the name he’d asked her to call him. His real name.
            One snap, two, three. That was all it took for heat to explode. The only grounding thing in the world was his scent – some form of cheap cologne, antiseptic and sweat, but she knew she still had a long way before she came down, with how he was drilling up inside of her, chasing his own release.
            It elicited another, albeit smaller orgasm, but the most pleasure she got was when she realized he’d come with her as his palms grabbed onto her ass and pulled her sharply down, her name a sweet grunt on his lips against her ear.
            Yeah. Y/N needed to go out with more doctors. At least they knew where to find the clit and not neglect it once they had.
            He brought a hand up to her face and pulled her by the cheek to meet his mouth, a satisfied sigh leaving her as he did so.          
            “That was the best one yet,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.
            “And the night’s still young.”
            They went three more rounds after that (because she only had three more condoms, and she’d rather use them on one man who knew how to make her come three more times, than three men, who would have trouble getting one out of her).
            Michael was also a man of his word, as he had her vibrator join in on the fun. Y/N had her ass up in the air while he railed her from behind, an arm wrapped around her middle, pressing the toy to her clit, the vibrations sending pleasure unlike any other through her.
            His front was flush to her back, beard having left delicious burns down her spine, as he’d kissed her there, before eating her out once more in between the rounds and pushing his again-hard cock inside.
            That was the final orgasm she could manage, and it seemed Michael knew it. It was the kind that not only made her legs, but her whole body shake, leaving Y/N a trembling mess against the sheets, while he soothed her through the aftershocks.
            “You with me, sweetheart?” he mumbled against her temple as he gathered her in his arms and laid them side by side.
            “Jus’ give me a momen’,” Y/N slurred while Michael brushed a finger from her cheek to her jaw and back. “I think I’m a medical fucking miracle with how you just fucked my brains out, and yet, I can still function. Barely though.”
            Michael’s chuckle reverberated through her body, as after she’d recovered slightly, he gathered her up and moved them to where she instructed the bathroom was, to make sure she peed and didn’t get a UTI. If these had been normal circumstances, she would have never let a guy see her peeing, but quite honestly, Y/N wasn’t sure she’d be able to get back from the toilet seat on her own.
            “You’re more than welcome to have a shower if you want. Of course, only if you’re down with smelling like peaches or passion fruit.” Y/N nudged her chin towards the shower gels lining the floor, one hers, the other Sara’s.
            “I wouldn’t be opposed to, but only if you join me.”
            She hissed, biting her lip. “I don’t have any condoms left. Besides, from what I’ve heard and read, shower sex can be quite precarious. I’m surprised that you as a trauma doctor would risk such a thing.”
            “I’m not asking to have sex,” Michale laughed and helped her stand on her still wobbly legs after she flushed. “I’m asking for you to shower with me. Nothing more, nothing less.”
            And that’s what they actually did. They simply had a shower. Michael washed her back and she washed his, along with his hair. When she did so, the blissful look on his face, the way he allowed himself to melt against her touch, sent a new kind of thrill through her. But it also made her wonder – when was the last time he allowed someone to take care of him?
            By the time they got out from under the water, it was close to four in the morning, so they dried themselves down and went to bed. Y/N’s down duvet was a warm and fluffy cloud around them. Sure, she could have asked him to leave, but why would she, when he seemed so content to be there? Whether anything came from it once they awoke, didn’t matter. If he didn’t want to leave at that moment, Y/N would be the last person to push him to.
            She drifted off almost instantly, warm and safe in Michael’s hold, but when the real morning came and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, body sore and satiated, she was met with a cold spot next to her.
            There was no fucking sign on Michael, and judging by how she’d been tucked in, he’d left a while back.
            Her dress and underwear had been neatly laid out on the chair in her room, heels tucked beneath it. As she ventured into the apartment, there were absolutely no signs of him, except for a cup of tea on the kitchenette. She knew it’d been made for her – it was filled to the brim, but much like the sheets, it was also already cold.
            Sourness settled in her mouth as she poured the liquid down the drain. Not even a single fucking note. It was like they’d never even met.
            Y/N hadn’t expected him to leave his phone number, God forbid, his address, what with how he’d laughed when she’d told him she was twenty-six, and he’d responded that he could be her father with that age gap. She knew she was some kind of spur-of-the-moment mistake he’d made. A weakness in his judgement, but fucking hell, she at least deserved an “it was great meeting you, wish you all the best,” note. Especially because he knew the only reason she’d gone to the bar was because she’d been ghosted by a date.
            And now – now Michael was also a ghost, an unscratchable, unreachable itch under her skin she couldn’t get to.
            That was the real reason Y/N’d felt so bitter for the past two weeks. If he’d been a bad lay, or maybe she’d been the bad party, she would understand the one-and-done-dump, but something about falling asleep while being wrapped up in one another, and then just leaving without so much as a goodbye, was crueler than if he’d left while she was still coming down from her release.
            Now though, as she watched him while they waited at the nurse’s station, she noted how his fingers twitched by his side. She wondered whether he wanted to touch her as badly as she wanted to touch him, but then horrible reality kicked in – there wouldn’t be any sort of touching for a while.
            She was stuck with her leg in a cast, and a scheduled check-up with Dr. Langdon in a week to take it off and remove the stitches, before it would get swaddled again for a month or more.
            Y/N cursed the day she’d met Dr. Michael Robinavitch, for he’d released a monster of carnal urges, she didn’t even really know resided in her. And he was the only one who knew how to properly tame it because even in his scrubs and hoodie, surrounded by the smell of antiseptic and all sorts of bodily fluids she didn’t want to think about, all she wanted to do was grab him by the neck and get him to some supply closet to have her way with him like they were actually in Grey’s Anatomy.
            “Michael, I,” Y/N started but got cut off by Sara waltzing into the emergency department.
            “How’s my pirate doing?” She threw her arms around her shoulders and squeezed. “They assign you a parrot yet?”
             “I don’t have a fucking peg-leg.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she signed a final form. With that, Sara took the wheelchair handles, gave Dana a salute and wheeled her out of the hospital, making Y/N crane her neck back and shout a final thank you to the nurse.
            She was just about to ask Sara to slow down as she needed to talk to Michael, when she felt his presence moving with them, silent, steady and strong, his hands taking hold of the crutches as the automatic doors opened.
            He followed them out and once they got to Sara’s car, helped Y/N settle in the front seat.
            “You good?” He tucked a strand behind her ear.
            “Yeah.” She gave him a genuine smile, and her heart pounded in her chest as his eyes trailed to trace her lips. “I am. Thank you. For taking care of me in there.”
            “Honestly, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the only time I’d like to see you back here is for your check-ups.”
            Y/N nodded, suppressing a smile. “Duly noted. No shower karaoke for me.”
            “I’m serious. You have an appointment with Frank in a week, but other than that, please take care of yourself, alright?”
            “You don’t have to worry about that.” She nudged her head towards Sara who was wrangling the crutches inside the boot of the car. “Mother hen is on the job.”
            “Good.” Michael nodded and before Y/N could properly prepare herself, he’d leaned down, cupping her jaw in his hands and kissed her.
            Her brain short-circuited at that, but when his tongue probed against the seal of her lips, she had to start wondering if she’d actually died when she’d hit her head in the shower. It didn’t take more than that though for her to open up, for her arms to brush against his scrubs and weave into the salt-and-pepper hair.
            By the time Michael pulled back, both their lips were kiss-swollen.
            “Let me take you out on a date.”
            Y/N let out a breathless laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What happened to the doctor-patient thing?”
            Michael only smirked. “You’ve been discharged. You’re no longer a patient of mine.”
            “Okay, but even so – what would we do? My leg’s in a cast, and I can barely hobble around with the crutches.”
            “I can carry you. I don’t mind.”
            “And throw out your back, old man?”
            “Hey, I’m not that old!” Michael protested, and when he noted the smile on her mouth, he pressed his against it once more.
            “How about this,” Y/N proposed, “when you’re done with your shift, you could come over to my place, and -,”
            “Our place,” Sara butted in, sliding into the driver’s seat. “So, whatever you have in mind – no hanky-panky with me next door.”
            If Y/N rolled her eyes any harder they would get stuck in the back of her head, but she returned her attention to the awaiting attendant. “And we order some take-out. We watch a movie and then just… go to sleep?”
            “It might be very late by the time I’m off.”
            When she raised her hand and cupped his rugged cheek, it took him no time at all to lean into her touch. “I can wait.” She pecked his lips. “I’m in no rush.” She could only hope he understood the double meaning behind what she meant with it.
            Later that night as Y/N sat by the TV, the glow of the screen illuminating her face, she fell asleep with her head against Michael’s chest.
            And when she awoke, her sheets were warm with the remnants of his body, even if he wasn't there anymore.
            She was alone, yes, but atop the pillow rested a note:
            Shift started at 8. Sorry, I can’t be there to wake up with you.             I’ll be home by 9.
            It was almost impossible to wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the day.
Even as the itching under the cast started.
-----
Tags: are open :) if you wish to be tagged in further fics, please drop a comment under the fic or message me or leave me an ask :)
A/N: I have arisen
if you wish to know how this man makes me feel, please listen to Slutty by The Scarlet Opera.
I am FERAL.
P.S. I hope you enjoyed it :) feedback/constructive criticism is always appreciated :)
2K notes · View notes
prkhaven · 6 months ago
Text
DAD AND DOLLARS -p.js-
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The hot rich dad next door needs a babysitter? Sign you up
pairing— dad!jay x money struggling fem!reader
genre: smut minors do no interact, dilf au, slight age gap (jay is in mid 20s while reader is in early 20s), p with plot, p with feelings
wc: 12.9k
warnings: slight jealously, profanity, kissing, alcohol consumption
smut warnings: unprotected sex (be safe), p in v, dirty talk, praising, oral (fem rec.), fingering, squirting, breeding kink, creampie, usage of nicknames (doll, good girl, sir)
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You looked dead center at your laptop to see the ridiculous total number summed up. Over thousands of dollars of student debt is yet to be paid off and you’re not even halfway done.
You closed your computer shut because if it was out of sight it was out of mind, at least for the time being. You sighed, rubbing your temple hoping to soothe the ache forming but the sudden loud beeping of a truck backing up disrupted your train of thought.
The annoying blaring sound only worsened your headache that it felt like it was going to explode any second. Your eye twitched, you were already running on 2 hours of sleep, you hoped to at least get some sleep in before working until late in the night.
Standing up from your table, you walked over to the small window that allowed just enough space to see outside but your eyes narrowed seeing someone’s back quite literally blocking your view. You quietly mumbled under your breath before wacking open your door.
You currently were in no mood to deal with any solisticing today.
“Look-” You began but quickly stopped when you see the scene before you, a man—a hot man at that, not much older than you or at least you assumed carrying a little girl who resembles him
His hair perfectly combed back showing off his forehead and neatly done undercut with his sharp jawline that looks like it could quite literally cut you in half, a nose bridge all tall and mighty as he wore a simplistic nude pink button up that managed to make your knees weak.
Not a lot of people can’t pull that color off but he sure as hell can.
What stood out to you the most was the jewelry that shone in the sunlight blinding you. Just from the mere pieces of jewelry alone, you could practically feel the success flowing through and out of him.
The jewelry the little girl wore outcompeted each and every single one you could ever own. And yet, that wasn’t enough to make you peel your eyes away. You hadn’t realized how long you’ve been staring until the said little girl pointed it out.
Embarrassed, you finally looked away and the mysterious man cleared his throat. “Ah, if you'll excuse my daughter”
Wait what. Daughter?!
You held yourself back from dropping your jaw. Even though you were assuming he wasn’t much older than you, he already has a daughter, a young one at that and you’re over here stressing over student debt. What stressful time you must be having.
“We’ve been up since this morning moving in, so she is a little antsy. Please do forgive us for disrupting you”
Anyone would be if they’ve been up since morning to mo- Wait Moving in?
It must’ve shown on your face because the male in front of you lightly chuckled but it wasn’t like the usual chuckles that you hear from other guys. It was rather deeper, more mellow and rumbled out of him and it twisted your insides out.
“We’ve just moved in next door” He adjusted his daughter into one arm hoisting her up with ease while his free hand extended a hand to shake with yours, “Pleasure to meet you, I’m Park Jongseong”
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Another exhausting day, another terrible pay.
You’re genuinely wondering how you’re going to manage to just make it by this upcoming month without falling into a hole and never coming out of it.
Your current job isn’t nearly enough to cover all your expenses in the slightest but there’s such a shortage of job opportunities that you’re stuck there until some miracle falls into your lap and presents you with all the answers to your prayers.
Rubbing your shoulders, you twist your head side to side to feel the crack of your neck relieving you from the tension in it but that’s when you hear the deep faint voice that’s been taunting your mind ever since you’ve heard it.
Before you could even prepare yourself or more like jam your keys into the lock to rush in before getting caught you hear the small greeting for you, “Hi miss!” You nervously gulp before turning around replacing your mumbled breath with a sweet smile towards the little girl holding her dad’s index finger with her small hand
“Well hi there!” You cheerily returned her greet with a fast wave, your eyes remained trained on her not daring to look up to her father hoping there would be no interaction between but the universe was not in your favor today
“Coming back after a long day?” His voice filled your mind again and you held back a nervous smile not trusting yourself to speak only left you to nod at his words
Your eyes rose higher until you caught him and he gave a tight smile and you swore your heart might’ve exploded right then and there. It was something so simple yet it had your mind reeling.
You awkwardly touched your neck making it seem like it was sore when in reality you were making sure you still had a pulse.
“Say goodbye honey, she’s had a long day at work. I’m sure she needs some rest” Jay softly spoke to his daughter who looked up to your shaky eyes and raised her hand to wave goodbye to you
Your heart melted as you happily waved goodbye to her.
Too caught up in the moment, you seemed to have forgotten the very man you were successfully ignoring for those few seconds his daughter had your attention, “Make sure to rest well”
Before you could register the words, they were already walking past you in hushed whispers. Your mouth hung open trying to figure out a response that didn’t embarrass you.
“Thank you Jongseong. Same to you” You opted to say through the few second turmoil and when he turned around hearing your voice, it’s corny to admit but it was like slow motion
Everything seemed to be forgotten about as you were solely focused on him. The earrings that hung from his ears, his folded up sleeves exposing his forearm and watch until you saw his beautiful smile. A warm genuine smile.
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“Woah- Hold on. You mean to tell me that good looking man I saw on my way here was your neighbor?!” Your friend shrieked once you broke the news to her
Supposed to be an important study session for your upcoming exam somehow turned into a 3 hour talking session, laptops and papers discarded.
You groan at your friend's words, hate having to be reminded that he was indeed your neighbor. So close yet so far from you.
“He dresses so damn good, looks like he has a lot of” Your friend rubbed her fingers together with raised eyebrows making you roll your eyes, “Plus I saw him with his little sister, he’s such a good brother”
“That’s his daughter” You unconsciously said and you didn’t realize until you took notice of the silence from your friend who stared at you like she had just seen a ghost
“You mean to tell me that was his daughter with him..?” You nodded your head and your friend nearly fell off of her chair at the sudden revelation, “Holy shit… You’re living next door to a dilf!” Your friend screech as she stumbled in her seat over to you
You jumped when she clasped your hands into hers, hopeful eyes staring directly into you with a certain mischievous gleam you knew far too well.
“So when are you getting on that?” Your friend raised an eyebrow and you shot her a confused look
“Getting on what?”
Your friend had to take a minute or so to just look at you in amusement but not in a good way.
“You mean to tell me you haven’t even thought about getting together with him ever since you saw him?!”
You yanked your hands away before lightly pushing her away shaking your head. “He’s either married or at least seeing someone” You said trying to make it believable for yourself more than for her—but you always noticed the lack of band on his ring finger every time you saw him or any sign of anyone else living with him besides his daughter
“I didn’t see any ring on his finger” Your friend shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head to the side
So he must be seeing someone. Because there’s no way that he is single and roaming the streets just like that.
You quickly went to grab your discarded laptop to move on from the topic. This was enough talking for today about your undeniably hot neighbor who just so happened to be a dad.
Your friend suddenly slammed your laptop shut. “What are you doing?” You asked but saw her finger pointed directly towards you
“No bigger question is what are you doing” Emphasizing the you in her sentence
You stared at her dumbfounded, making her groan in annoyance.
“When was the last time you went on a date?” You opened your mouth to respond, “I mean an actual date” You closed your mouth right up
“Exactly! It’s been so long since you’ve been treated, why not indulge in this nonsense just a little” She squished her thumb and index finger together showing basically no space in between them
“In case you forgot, I’m a broke student trying to get by till the end of this month. I don’t have ti-”
“Yeah yeah I know. You don’t have time. You don’t have the money. You don’t have new or fancy clothes” Your friend cited the same excuses you’ve given to excuse yourself from anything thrown your way, “But don’t let it stop you this time. I have a good feeling about this one” She softly hummed with a soft smile hoping you take her words truthfully
“He’s most definitely seeing someone” You softly muttered
“And if he’s not?”
The question made you think. Even if there was the slimmest chance that he was in fact single and was not seeing anyone, why would he look your way? You don’t have much to offer.
“He’s a dad” You reminded but her soft smile dropped into something more menacing
“Well that’s just the cherry on top, no?”
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“What would I do without you?” Your friend chimed, wrapping your sweater over her, it was well past midnight and you finally concluded your study session after all this time and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep
“You’d be walking yourself out in the freezing cold” She chuckled at your response knowing it was the truth but she happily skipped ahead but stopped in her tracks raising and hand up to stop you
Before you could ask anything, she pulled your arm to where she is and that’s where you see Jay. His little girl fast asleep in his arms, her puffy cheeks squishing against his broad shoulder as he carefully closed the door shut wanting to make as minimal noise as possible.
He locked the car and stuffed his keys into his trench coat and right when he turned he caught sight of you and your friend looking, he furrowed his eyebrows immediately noticing how you weren’t wearing a sweater even though you were clearly cold from the shiver you let out.
Instantly you gave a quick smile to him not sure why he furrowed his eyebrows towards you but he kindly returned your smile with his own before walking past you and your friend still making sure his daughter was still fast asleep.
As he walked past you caught a whiff of his musk cologne and you wholeheartedly wanted to delve straight into it. It made your head woozy, it wasn’t strong enough that it was overbearing but it was strong just enough that made sure his presence was embroidered into your mind even when he was long gone.
“Oh” You heard your friend murmur and you turned to look at her dazed expression staring at where he once stood at the side of his car, “You actually got a double D living next door”
“Double what?” Pure confusion written over your face and she rolled her eyes as if it was the most known thing in the whole wide world
“Hello, a double D! A father who has money. Dad and dollars!”
You’ve just had a revelation.
“You my friend have a hot and rich double D living next door to you”
“You’re unbearable” You scoffed but you gasped when she lightly hit you
“That’s you”
“But I am being so serious right now, you better get on that man before I do” Before you could retaliate her sentence you heard faint shuffling coming towards your direction and to your surprise, you turned to see Jay coming back minus his daughter
“Oh” He stopped in his tracks seeing you and your friend, “You’re still here?” It easily could be mistaken as a harsh slap to the face but his tone was soft and gentle that there was nothing to it besides true curiosity
You opened your mouth praying that something coherent would come out but your friend knew better than to trust you and let you figure it out on your own. Especially when he was right there.
“She was just being such a kind friend and walking me out” Your friend softly patted your back and you mentally cursed at how cold her hands were against your thin covered back
“What about you? Coming out again?” Your friend tilted her head and you had to hold yourself back from dragging her away
“Have to bring the grocery up” Jay lightly waved the car keys before unlocking his car as the trunk slowly opened
“We can help you!” Your friend suddenly chimed in and you felt all color drain from your face, you just weren’t sure if it was from the cold finally getting to your numb face or how he stops walking and turns around
“You want to help?” He raised an eyebrow and your friend eagerly nodded and threaded closer to him, when his eyes moved from her onto you wanting to see if you were coming along you remained frozen in place
All the time you were merely in his presence, your body shut down on you as you became just a hollow vessel. He expected a response—any response from you but when he was received with nothing his lips formed a thin line and nodded his head.
“W-wait of course she’s going to help” Your friend awkwardly chuckled before walking back over to you, “It must be the cold getting to her. Silly her for not wearing a sweater”
You came back to your senses when your friend smacked your arm and you winced feeling how your spiky skin was far more sensitive to touch from how long you’ve been out there.
Yet, you didn’t have any chance to collect yourself as she dragged you with her in front of him as she gleamed with a smile. He blinked at the sudden appearance of you in front of him while you gulped harshly trying to keep your thoughts sane.
Even up close, your eyes looked over his face, never able to settle on a single feature until you landed on the slightly chapped lips but moved your eyes up to catch his eyes. Under dim lighting he looked phenomenal.
“Alright let’s get those groceries” Your friend peeped
You looked away from him down to the ground before softly nodding your head. You were going to help gather some bags but you stopped when you felt a weight place around your shoulder. You looked down to see the trench coat over your body.
Turning to face Jay, he gave a gentle nod. “You need it way more than me” His voice rumbled throughout your mind earning the gears to shift inside you by his voice and gesture alone
His eyes examined you in his coat before softly smiling to himself at his thoughts, “Next time make sure to bundle up before going out. You can catch a cold easily”
The cold that was once lived in your body faded away into pure warmth and it was all thanks to your neighbor living next door.
It hadn’t taken long until all the groceries were brought into his place in one trip. Your friend huffed, shaking her head as if she had run a marathon.
You softly chuckled at her state and softly padded her back to help regulate her breathing again. Underestimating her energy after hours of studying finally caught up to her.
“Who… Goes grocery shopping at this time?” Your friend pants
“I guess that’ll be me” Jay chuckles earning a curious look from you which he catches, “There’s not enough time in the day that allows me to properly shop and get everything I need, especially when I’m with my daughter”
“Sounds like you need a babysitter-” Your friend starts but abruptly stops, you looked over to her and saw the same mischievous look on her face and it sent unease to rest in your stomach
“A babysitter would be nice” Jay lowly sighed but waved it off, grateful to spend time with his daughter despite his busy schedule, “I just haven’t had the time to properly look into that”
“Well look no further because I know the perfect babysitter for you” Your eyes widen and you’re suddenly pulled forward once again and stood in the middle of Jay’s place looking like an animal caught in headlights staring right at him
“W-wa-Wh” You tried to speak but nothing came out as you tried to adjust to what your friend just offered, who she just offered which was you
“You?” Jay sucked his teeth as he looked at you noticing how his trench engulfed your body and unconsciously you straightened out your posture, “Just for uhm precautions… Why would you be a good babysitter?”
The sudden light hearted demeanor from him changed instantly and you couldn’t blame him. Two random girls—one of them your neighbor who you barely speak to, was just offered to take care of your daughter just like that. You’d be surprised if he didn’t do this even if it’s late at night and he’s still yet to put the groceries away.
“I-I won’t mind looking after your daughter” You explained as best as you can as you felt Jay’s piercing gaze on you. Adjusting his jacket over you, your eyes flickered around, “I live right next door so I’ll never be far- Plus my schedule is pretty flexible even with schooling”
“And I mean it’ll benefit you in the end right? I’ll do everything I have to do to properly take care of her”
“I'd like to help you out” You managed to give a smile the moment you made eye contact with him which you hoped didn’t creep him out, “I mean- You know to make sure you don’t get burned out so quickly and have time to focus on yourself! Trust me I know how it feels and it’s not fun” You awkwardly chuckled and you could hear your friend smacking her forehead behind you
His eyes never left yours and it felt like he was able to read every thought in your head. There was a moment of silence and you wanted to lay down in a hole and never show your face again. You nibbled on your lip as you watched Jay’s hard gaze on you.
He let out a sigh nodding his head, “Alright. When can you start?”
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Running around gathering your belongings into your bag still making sure to be as quiet as possible in order to not disturb the sleeping child in your bed.
You picked up a sudden dropped shift with the expectation of receiving a higher pay for the unexpected inconvenience. You could really care less for the ungodly hour you’ll have to work, money is money and you desperately need it.
And right on time, you heard the faint knock at your door and you knew it was none other than Jay picking up his daughter.
This was only your first week babysitting her, the first time awkward but easy but after the 4th day it was better than the first time—much better or at least you thought it was.
At your door, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before carefully opening it to reveal Jay on the other side of it. A striking simple black suit that pierced your heart like an arrow as he adjusted his watch.
He raised his head to the sound of the door opening and gave a gentle smile making warmth spread across your chest. The silly little infatuation is driving you mad.
“Hi Jongseong” You greeted him, moving to the side just enough to welcome him in, “She was a little more tired today. She’s sleeping right now, just give me a second and I’ll go get her”
Without even being able to say a word, he watched as you disappeared. Normally, his daughter would be full of energy ready to greet him at the door when it was time to be picked up.
Keeping his lips in a straight line, he looked around your place noticing it was simple but homey. It spoke loud of who you were as a person which he’s come to realize, he doesn’t know much of.
He only knew the basic things about you but nothing in depth that could make him stand out in your life. He let out a deep sigh at the thought and rubbed his nape but stopped seeing you carefully carrying his daughter.
Her head rubbing against the juncture of your neck, her small arms wrapped around you and the fondness you looked at her with when she let out a small whine when you tried to hand her over to him.
Jay isn’t one to think of anything when seeing someone more specifically a woman holding his daughter but something bloomed in his chest as he watched you whispering in her ear making his daughter pull her ahead away from you to him.
He opened his mouth with a smile and extended his arms which his daughter easily slipped into from yours to his. “Hi sweetheart” He gasped as she quickly knocked her head into his chest and curled into her father’s embrace
You handed over her sparkly pink school bag towards Jay which contrasted his attire but you think it suited him quite well and found it more cute.
“Thank you so much for looking after her” He softly said and just hearing his soft voice made your knees want to buckle but stuck with just waving it off as nothing
His eyes looked you up and down and took notice of your clothing. Rather than the comfy clothes you wore the first time he came to pick up his daughter, you wore more formal clothing this time a jacket wrapped around you with your bag hanging off your shoulder and phone in hand.
Your phone vibrated and you looked at it to silently curse under your breath which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “Is everything okay?” He asked and you forgot that he was still there for a second
You replaced your frown with a quick smile, “Yeah, I just have to head out soon for my shift”
Jay’s eyebrows knitted together, “A shift? This late?”
“Whatever can pay the bills” You sadly chuckled and shrugged it off not noticing how Jay stared at you perplexed, he just got off his shift and here you were going to yours
“How are you going to get there?”
“Walking but if I’m lucky I can catch a bus” You explained but noticing time passing by you don’t think the chances are high
Jay remained silent, contemplating something as you walked them out. His daughter stirred awake when you locked your front door. You quickly apologized and tried to soothe her back to sleep but she looked between you and her dad with sleepy eyes. “Where are you going?” Her voiced slurred with sleepiness
“I have to go work” You softly explained but she tried to reach out to you shaking her head
She mumbles something ineligible and you softly giggled before stroking her head leveling with her whispering a soft goodbye again. Jay watched all of this unfold between his daughter and you, the same bloom in his chest forming all over again.
“I can take you there” Jay spoke before being able to comprehend his own thought process,
Your hand dropped to fall to your side. His eyes widened as he stared at your shocked expression
What the hell is he saying? His mouth opened and closed trying to follow up his statement but nothing came out. But his daughter seemed to understand him better than he understands himself. “Yes!” Her energy suddenly boosted up at the thought of being able to spend more time with you
Jay stared at his daughter, shocked at her quick interest, he looked over to you and saw the shake of your eyes before letting out a strained laugh. “I don’t want it to be an inconvenience” You said
“Ridiculous” He chuckled not realizing how it made the harsh thump in your heart hard to ignore, “Please” His voice softer than the first time
How could you say no to him? Well easy. You couldn’t.
Jay’s car reflected his personality perfectly. Nice and sleek, the black shining leather—Real leather—not some fake leatherette to taint his car. His daughter and your happy chatter filling the car as he follows the GPS to your job.
One could easily mistake the dynamic. Easily. His foot slowed down on the brake pedal coming to a stop in front of the shops that illuminated in bright colors, 24 hours.
“24 hours?” He softly muttered not thinking you’d pick up on it but hearing your light sigh he moved from the sign to you who had a small smile
“Like I said. Whatever pays the bills” You said, “Thank you for the ride I really do appreciate it” Your smile growing before turning your body in the seat to reach out your hand to the little girl in the back
“Don’t give your dad a hard time mhm?” You hummed which caused her to pout her lips, trying to reach other to grab your hand to keep you longer but the restraints of her car seat kept her in place
You shot Jay a different smile. Something warm and tense before stepping out of the car, waving goodbye to them before heading into your job with slack shoulders.
How could’ve he have been so naive, selfish, just so stupid. You’ve been taking care of his daughter while he’s been at work. Picking her up, cleaning up after her, making sure to give the proper meals needed all whilst welcoming her into your place easily, allowing her to sleep in your bed even holding back from taking regular scheduled hours to look after her just to end up working ungodly hours just to get money.
Money that should’ve been in your bank account from the first hour you looked after his daughter and yet, he hadn’t paid you a single dime.
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At the same time you heard the knock of the door. “Right on time” You said while standing up and making your way over to the door which you expected her to follow suit
You opened the door just enough, “Hi Jong-” But it slammed shut in front of his face
Your jaw dropped letting out a loud gasp to see his daughter’s hand on the door, a deep frown on her face before clinging onto your leg, shaking her head. “Don’t want to see him” She huffed
Knitting your eyebrows you crouched the door peeling her off your leg to hold her arms. “Now that wasn’t very nice to do but why don’t you want to see him?” You softly asked but you let out strained a yelp when she launched her arms around your neck
You wrapped an arm around her, hoisting her up. “I’m going to open the door okay?” The lack of response from her made your lip tug to the side before opening the door again
Jay rubbing his creased forehead stopped. You gave an apologetic confused smile but he gave a tired smile in return almost as if he expected it. “It’s time to go back home” You whispered into the little girl’s ear but she let out a whine, roughly shaking her head and only held onto you tighter
Confusion written over your face as you tried to peel her off her body into Jay’s but she wouldn’t budge.
Letting out a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his neat hair. The locks slotted through each crack easily, messily ruining the sleek style into something far more loose.
Awkwardly shaking your head from that thought to look at Jay. “Why don’t you come in?” You motioned him inside just like how you always did
How you welcomed him so easily when he hadn’t welcomed you like that showed the constraint he held himself up to. Sighing heavily as he walked in, you closed the door behind him—rocking the girl in your arms who hadn’t looked at her father once.
“Make yourself comfortable Jongseong”
“I feel like we’ll be here for a while”
And after hours of quite literal utter silence in your place, Jay’s daughter finally fell asleep in your arms.
“She’s asleep” You softly whispered to Jay who immediately perked up from the chair, sleepy eyes seeing his daughter happily laying against your body, a content smile on her face while in your embrace
“Oh I didn’t know you were sleeping-”
“No, it's fine. I’m sorry I fell asleep” Jay tried rubbing his hands over his eyes to wake himself up
“Stressful day?” You softly questioned, it was a little invasive but the lack of sleep infiltrated your regular thought process that you spewed anything that came to mind
Jay stayed silent for a moment, his hands moving away from his eyes to look over to your droopy ones. You still managed to have a smile plastered on your face, especially to him.
There weren’t many times he could be vulnerable, not when he has to prioritize his daughter over everything, to make money which is never an issue for him just to make sure his daughter could have anything and everything she could ever want.
A need to fill the void that no material could ever fulfill.
“Just a little” He deeply sighed, his back sinking into the seat again, his arm resting against the armchair
You nipped at your lip, “Want to talk about it?” Each word smaller than the last not wanting to overstep a boundary with him but it was an invisible opportunity that he’s been wanting, waiting for so long
“That’ll be nice”
As you laid Jay’s daughter into your bed, he stayed next to you the entire time. He knelt to the ground, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, mumbling something inaudible for you to hear before stroking his cheek with a saddening gaze.
He tugged at your sheets making sure she was fully covered before turning to face you. You looked at him with complete utter fondness and he stopped his movement. His gaze remained on you for a split second longer than he wanted trying to pull back his wandering thoughts from going deeper.
Clearing his throat, he knelt up from the ground which brought you out from the haze that you were. Your eyes widened as his eyes never left yours and you quickly turned a heel, “I-I have some wine, do you drink wine? Is wine good?” You rambled
Jay stared at your figure. He let out a deep sigh which soon grew into a small smile when you turned around to face him. The light behind illuminating your figure. “Wine is perfect”
Jay sat across from you, his usually strict attire now messed up. Three unbuttoned buttons from his shirt. Sleeves rolled all the way up to his elbow, his hair out of his slicked style to a messy middle part. Legs barely spread open, his lower body pushed forward as he twirled the wine left in his glass.
“She’s upset with me today” Jay sipped drops of wine out of his glass before resting it onto his lap, “I mean I don’t blame her. I promised that her mom and I would take her out but…” He sighed heavily
The mention of the mother made you suddenly tense. The first time you ever heard anything about her, neither did Jay or his daughter ever speak of her in your presence.
You gulped harshly, shifting on the couch. The material under your body is clinging onto your skin somehow. It’s a normal reaction right or maybe you’re overthinking. It must be the alcohol seeping into your system already even though you hadn’t taken a sip yet.
“We both got caught up in work so we had to reschedule but I had to be the bearer of bad news and when I had to break it to her, of course she was upset”
“I’m actually surprised she didn’t complain to you about it. She made it very known that she was upset at me and her mother” Jay sadly chuckled to himself, his eyes trained on the wine glass
“It’s not your fault” He quickly looked to you surprised to see the disagreement of opinion, “I mean- There’s some things that we can’t control”
“Especially when you and your wife work-”
“She’s not my wife”
Defying silence surrounds you and Jay. He was quick to rebuttal the assumption and it tingles something in your gut.
“Me and her mother co-parent. We were young and reckless and everything just happened before we even realized it and now we have our precious little girl” Jay chuckled looking up from the wine glass to look at you, a certain glint in his eyes.
“But we’re not- I’m not married”
You couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were enticing, captivating you deeper into the very thing you were holding yourself back from. Jay’s eyes never faltered from yours and you wondered how.
Trying to snap yourself from the moment to ground yourself in reality because even if he wasn’t married—Just co-parenting, he has to be seeing someone.
“O-Oh I see” You said, his eyes boring straight into yours
You harshly gulped while trying to ignore the bubbling warmth of hope soaring through you. A voice deep inside your mind voicing out your deepest desires.
Feeling as if Jay could see right through you and hear these thoughts made you shift in your spot again. What if he could hear them? What if he thinks it’s strange?
Through the slimmest possible lens, what if he felt the same way.
“Still don’t blame yourself for it… I’m sure she’ll understand sooner or later. Maybe take her out to help somewhat ease the situation until you and uhm her mother can take her out” You offered some advice as best as you could
Jay remained silent listening to you. His eyes finally look away from you and you let out a silent sigh of relief from the release of his hard gaze.
“Taking her out…” Jay’s voice was barely above a whisper, he twirled the wine once again deep in thought
You stared at him, anticipation slipping deep into each crevice as possible in you until he spoke up again with his eyes looking back up to you, “Definitely will have to do that”
There felt more to his words than the surfacing original topic of it yet, you couldn’t place your finger on it.
“You know she talks about you a lot” You were the one to look at him in shock
“Really? I hope it’s good thi-”
“Always” He interrupted taking another sip of the alcoholic drink to slip past in his throat, “It’s always good things” He smiled towards and there was the same warmth you felt whenever you with him grow 10 folds
“I’ve been meaning to give this to you. I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long please forgive me” Jay shuffled through his discarded jacket before pulling out an envelope leaning over to slide it over to you
“Wha-” His shirt fell just enough that if you dared to look longer you could see the necklace dangling and past it was his sculpted chest
You pulled your eyes to the envelope and grabbed it with shaky hands trying to hold back from showing the burning of your cheeks. Your palm clammy trying to open the envelope but slipping every time.
You continued to try opening the envelope but soon Jay’s calloused warm hands engulfed yours. You jumped at the sudden contact but not enough to pull your hands away. Looking up to him, his face is daringly close to yours.
Able to feel his breath brush against yours, you smelled the hint of wine but it made your insides churn in a rather dark way instead.
“Slow doll” His voice slurred and fluttering, “Take it nice and slow”
His fingers clasped over yours, guiding your movement in carefully opening the envelope. Holding your breath as he made your fingers slip into the envelope slowly slotting your fingers to grab the thin paper inside to pull out.
There was a slight shudder rumbling out of your breath causing him to slip up a smirk. Your eyes widen in pure shock as you read over the words on the paper or more like check.
A check written out to not even a hundred dollars but instead 2 thousand dollars.
“I-I- Jong-Jongseong”
Your mouth fell slack as you tried to find any words that could form at least anything in the slightest but nothing came out. “When are you free?” He whispered, his nose bumped against yours, his eyes looking deep and searching in yours
Your hands fell down with his on top, “I’d like to take you out”
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An all black outfit. The button up something you hadn’t seen before. It accented his shoulders that screamed to you, his daring built back that your fingers itched to claw at. His more relaxed but styled hair with the singular strand falling in front.
Jay looked so good but he wasn’t staying. Instead he was going out while you were staying at his place to babysit his daughter like you always do.
And yet, selfishly you should’ve made some lie that you were busy and wouldn’t be able to babysit his daughter.
But the look in his eyes swooned you and the silent hidden excitement from him landed you right on his couch with his daughter plastered against your side having to watch her dad finish getting ready.
“Please call in case of anything. It’s just some job party, nothing important. They always host them” He rambled trying to diminish the past excitement he had, “Actually you know what? I’m not going anywhere, I’ll just stay with you both” Jay said beginning to take off his watch
“Jay” You simply said which made him stop, he looked over to you letting out a deep sigh, “Go to it. When was the last time you were able to enjoy yourself?”
Two weeks ago when I took you out is what he would’ve said if he had the courage to.
That day two weeks ago had been the highlight of his social life that he’s had in years. Always being so focused on working and taking care of his daughter, he never paid attention to anything outside of it until you came into the picture.
He can remember it so vividly almost as if he were to be reliving it again. Your sweet smile greeting him and his daughter. “Hi” He breathlessly let out seeing you
He awkwardly fumbled with his suit as you took notice of his different style of hair different from the usual one you see him in. Instead of the usual strict sleek hair, it was loosely done, his hair moved to each side to expose his forehead slightly.
“Hi miss!” You looked down to see his daughter dressed up as she crashed her body onto your body in a bear-like hug looking up to you with sparkly eyes
Letting out a heartfelt chuckle, you stroked her head before looking up to Jay with a gentle expression. He’s never been bothered with seeing others with daughter and yet, everytime with you, he feels a twinge twist in his chest watching you and his daughter.
“Daddy give her your gift!” His daughter chirped making him flinch at the sudden spotlight on him, you tilted your head in confusion and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before straining out a laugh
He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and your smile dropped before quickly growing into a bigger one. You nipped at your lip to hold it back anymore but it was near impossible.
“Guess the surprise is ruined” He softly murmur but you shook your head at his words and grabbed the bouquet
“It caught me off guard so I think it’s a success” You chuckled before grasping the bouquet, “They’re beautiful” You admired the flowers while he only looked at you
Jay was floored. “Yeah I know” He mumbled under his breath going unnoticed by you
“Thank you Jay” You looked up to catch him staring at you with a certain sparkle as he looked at you, he let out his own smile and if it wasn't for his daughter tugging at his hand, he wouldn’t have gotten out of the daze he was in any time soon
Instinctively looking at his daughter, he gave two fingers for her to hold and she looked over to you with her hand open. Instantly you knew what she wanted and allowed her to grasp your fingers.
“Let’s head out shall we? Our reservation is soon-”
“Daddy worked hard!” His daughter chipped in cutting him off, “Always on the phone talking to people for it” His daughter spoke making the tips of Jay’s ears turn bright red as you stifled a laugh
“Oh did he now?” You raised an eyebrow looking over to Jay who hadn’t said a single thing to rebuttal the accusation, it was true, he wasn’t going to deny it
He wanted everything to be perfect and by the end of it, it was indeed perfect. Jay held his sleeping daughter in his arms, your hand wrapped around his bicep able to feel the slight bulge of it as he walked you to your front door.
Jay felt accomplished. The day was filled with nothing but laughter and chatter minus the exception of sudden silence when many people mistaken them as a beautiful loving family out to dinner which always left Jay in a ringing frenzy until you snapped him out of it everytime.
He didn’t know why the usage of family with you, to have you be mistaken as the mother of his daughter or as his wife left him hot and his heart pattering against his chest.
“Thank you Jay for today. I had such a wonderful time” You smiled brightly and he was growing too accustomed to see your beautiful smile towards him
“It was my pleasure” He gave a tight smile as he felt sudden jitters all around, “I’m sure she enjoyed it too” He gestured towards his sleeping daughter
You nodded your head, a look of contemplation in your eyes before unlocking your door but right before you opened it, you quickly spun around and planted a peck on his cheek before fumbling with the door behind you.
Jay froze for a moment and just before you could slip through his fingers he strangled out a sound to stop you. You turned around, a faint dust of blush heating your cheeks as you lowered your gaze.
He gulped harshly not thinking this far ahead but knowing he had to come up with something, “I-I uhm if you want to of course- I’d like to take you again” He jumbled his words together until some sentence was formed
He anxiously looked at your dropped expression as you raised your head to look at him and he’ll never be able to forget the chuckle you let out as you nodded your head softly biting back your smile.
The beating of his heart reminded him of what it was like to feel like a little kid having their first crush ever all over again. It never bothered him not feeling this in a long time but now being able to experience it again, it felt nice.
And yet, somehow he never managed to gain any courage to see when you were free. Excusing it to be poor scheduling with his working hours and you taking care of his daughter and schooling hours with the very few work hours you snagged just for extra pocket money even when he offered to pay triple the amount he’s been already paying you—Which was nearly 3 thousand dollars daily.
Money is not an issue for Jay, never has been and never will be and he’s more than willing to cover all and any expenses you may have. His only issue is not nearly having enough courage to ask you again.
“Don’t worry about us, you know we always have our own fun here. Go have yours” Your reassuring voice reminded him of reality as you smiled through a fake smile
As wonderful the idea was if Jay stayed in that exact same outfit and didn’t go out for everyone to throw themselves at him. You knew it was unreasonable, these job parties are probably hosted in the first place with hopes that he shows up to at least one of them.
Ignoring the bubbling gnaw in your stomach twisting your stomach inside and out, Jay lets out a defeat sigh, clicking his watch back on and dusting off the imaginary dust off his clothes.
“Say goodbye” You whispered and Jay’s daughter smiled widely waving goodbye to her dad who stared at her and you in complete awe
He walked over, his hand resting on the armchair and leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead. In the process the same musk cologne filled your nose making your head dizzy and having him in closer proximity made your heart thump out of your chest.
His side profile was nothing but sheer perfection. You nibbled at your lip as you examined his features up close, always finding yourself in this very position. And yet, he was beyond reach.
Your lips tugged downwards but tried to replace it with a smile when Jay pulled away and looked over to you. His eyes boring into your wavering ones like usual, there was a split moment of hesitance. You gulped trying to ignore the patter of your heart.
Instead of saying goodbye, Jay’s breath shakily fanned yours with a staggering thing smile plastering on his face, “See you soon”
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He expected the party to loosen every fiber in his body but instead his emotions were only heightened ten folds. Every passing second he’s looking at his watch counting down the milliseconds waiting for what seems like a reasonable time to leave.
Sighing heavily, he shakes his head. He shouldn’t have listened to you. He’d rather spend tonight with you and his daughter watching whatever you guys put on.
Swashing the drink in hand not having taken a single sip from the moment he arrived, his arms resting against the rail as he overlooked to see everyone enjoying themselves. He let out another heavy sigh just to check his watch again.
“Mr. Park you look tensed” He looked up to see his employee leaning against the rail next to him giving him a sly smile
Being the boss he is, he dropped his sullen face to give a professional smile. “Do I?” He sucked his teeth letting out a quick stifle laugh
She giggled at his remark like it was the funniest thing ever said, “Is it perhaps about your daughter?” She tilted her head and Jay didn’t like the fact she carelessly mentions his daughter
However, giving the benefit of the doubt, he assumes it must be the alcohol in her system noticing the nearly empty glass at hand.
He lets out an awkward laugh and tilts his head to the side giving no response. “Or is there stuff happening at home? Y’know I would love to help out in anyway I can Mr. Park” The employee rubbed her hand up and down his arm slurring her words together
His eyes followed her movements and carefully pulled his arm away checking the time, “Will you look at that I have to get back home to my girls”
“Your girls?” The employee muttered to herself in confusion but she wasn’t able to dwell on it anymore when Jay took away the glass with a small smile
“Don’t drink anymore tonight. Make sure to rest properly and take some medicine in the morning” Jay nodded his head and easily turned his heel walking past the other employees who all wondered where he was going but none dared to ask
It didn’t take long for Jay to get back to his but on the drive home, he was in pure contemplation. His elbow resting on the open window, feeling the night breeze fanning his face as his fingers played with his lips.
He possibly couldn’t. He shouldn’t even be thinking about you in this light and yet every time he sees you, he feels like he’s experiencing his first crush all over again.
Jay rushed out of his car once he parked it. Standing outside his front door, his hand raised to softly knock against it. After a few seconds of waiting which felt like an eternity. The door opened with your soft voice. “Jongseong?”
Right when the door was opened wide enough, Jay stepped in not forgetting to lock the door behind him. He knew his daughter was fast asleep considering the time. It was just you and him.
You stared at Jay confused at the lack of response from him but you gasped when he suddenly grasped your hands, feeling the familiar calloused feel of them scratching your skin.
He looked deeply into your eyes and you nearly felt your heart burst out of your chest. There’s always been an underlying feeling that’s been infiltrating him from the moment he first met you.
A pretty, money struggling woman that he wants as his to bask away into the sunset and take care of forever.
Jay’s hand held your lower back, his other hand holding the middle of your back flushing you against his. You let out a small squeal the moment your bodies clashed. His breath fanned over yours and the very faint smell of the musk cologne caused a shiver to run up your spine.
You’ve never seen him like this. So raw with emotion, yearning eyes, a tug at his lips. “Ja-Jay?- Jongseong?” You stuttered not knowing how to address him in this moment, your heart thumping out of your chest
He drew in closer, his lips closing in on yours, “Call me Jay. Call me Jongseong. You can call me whatever you want”
“Just call out to me” You felt his lips grazing yours before he softly planted them against each other
Your squished hands shivered but they carefully climbed higher until they reached his sharp jaw as you pushed further into his lips. Jay let out a pleased sigh feeling the reciprocation. His hand on your mid back traveled to grasp the back of your head.
His hands turned your body, his body filling in any empty space that dared to be left behind. Your hands squeeze in between under his arms, grasping onto the behind his shoulders in a desperate need.
Your mind was reeling, not a single thought in it besides the dad—The hot dad next door, Park Jongseong.
His tongue gilded against your lip, begging for entrance. You easily allowed him to explore your mouth. His teeth tugging at your bottom lip in a haste making your squeal.
“Going to have to be a quiet doll” However, he wasn’t sure if he could keep up with his own words, Jay felt drunk when he was kissing you
Your lips grew swollen from how long he’s been kissing you but not once did he stop, the lack of oxygen would never stop him from kissing you.
The tips of your fingers dug deeper into his shoulder causing him to let out a loan groan at the feel. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was how badly he wants to make you his.
Jay’s arms loosened around your body enough to make his hands land on your hips to carefully guide your body deeper into his home that now always welcomes you in.
You allowed yourself to melt in his embrace. Every touch felt like fire against your skin, your arms flailed to wrap around his neck making sure not even for a second did his lip ever leave yours. Your teasing fingertips entangled in his hair.
Jay bit your lip to keep himself silent through the dizzy feeling of your tugs. The moment you reached his bedroom, the door closed shut as he quickly pushed you onto his bed, never detaching his mouth from yours.
His body slotted between your legs, as you wrapped around him. Holding him to keep him close—daring for him to get farther than just a few centimeters away only to drag him back in.
The feel of lightheadedness was finally catching up, through the few milliseconds that you both stopped to change positions were you able to properly breathe but it was taken away when Jay crashed his lips back onto yours.
The same repeated motions felt like an eternity that you never wanted to escape from. Jay’s hands holding your waist tightly while yours traveled playing with the back hairs loving how they run perfectly in between.
Jay’s been kissing you like a starved man who has been deprived of any sense of touch for so long which wasn’t far from the truth. One final tug at your lips before the wave of air filled your lungs through a loud pant.
Gasping for air contrasted the pucker of your lips ushering more kisses. Jay let out a deep chuckle, his thumb rubbing at your sides now planting softer pecks on your lips with a side smile tugging at his lips.
“More” Your voice slurred, “Please”
Your breathless pleas only fueled him further. Who was he to deny your desperate pleas.
“Talk to me. What do you want, doll?” He hummed in the juncture of your neck, his mouth leaving feathering kisses in its wake
The simple nickname leads to the attempt to squish your legs together, forgetting how Jay rested in the middle. He caught your attempt and let out a chuckle.
“You like being called doll or do you like the fact that you’re my doll? Which one is it, mhm?” An unexplainable courage taking over him that he couldn’t remember why he didn’t ask you out from the moment he knew what he wanted
You could feel the smirk radiating off of him and you rolled your eyes which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He sucked in his teeth, his hand grabbing your chin with force to make you look at him.
“Now don’t be a brat” He tooted before letting out a smirk, “Use your big girl words, which is it?”
Already have succumbed to him and his words from the moment you saw him standing at your front door. “Your doll” You softly said
Pleased with the words, he let go of your chin to capture your lips with his, the kiss softer than the first one. His hand gilded higher up your side. You moaned in the kiss, happy to feel his lips on yours again.
Your hands wrapped around his neck to keep him in place, “Let me spoil you” He murmured, your lips grew in a smirk which he felt, his hand tightened on your waist as if in a warming
Pulling away with a heavy pant, you looked up to him with curious eyes which captivated him, “I spend a lot of money you know” You snapped your fingers, “Just like that…” Your voice becoming lower than the last
Jay let out a laugh, his head dropping, “Well can you waste my money as quickly as I earn it?” His head raised when he questioned you
You froze at the retaliation. You nervously gulped before letting out a shy smile. You shook your head. Jay hummed in satisfaction at the response before planting kisses at the side of your neck. “Didn’t think so”
Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the sensation. Your body contorted with each of his feather kisses, you bit your lip loving each second of his mouth on your body.
While they moved lower and lower while his hands managed to slip under your shirt feeling your burning bare skin under his touch. You let out a louder gasp than intended when you felt his hand cup at your breast through your bra.
Your eyes shot open only to see Jay looking up to you with a gleam and smirk written all over his face. His hand dragged from under your shirt to your legs, his fingertips gliding until he reached the waist of your pants.
You let out a shaky breath, his eyes pleading for permission. You slowly nodded your head. “What a good girl” He whispered the praise before dragging your pants down
The air caught in your throat but quickly noticing how he was leaving the sticky undergarment clinging to you, you stopped his hands from moving any further.
Jay immediately stopped and looked at you with worried eyes. He retracted his hands away and began to pull away but right when he was going to speak, you engulfed his hands to bring them back.
Stretching out his fingers, you looped them under to grab everything. Jay froze feeling the fabric of your underwear at his fingertips. He looked away with wide eyes to you but you gave a reassuring smile before allowing yourself to melt back into his bed.
“Don’t be so shy” You whispered loud enough for him to hear, he let out strained chuckle before nodding his head
He pulled down every piece of fabric in one motion. You unconsciously squished your legs together, “It’s okay. You don’t have to do a single thing. I’ll take care of you” He softly reassured as he pried open your knees to expose you to him
You closed your eyes shut while your hands fisted at his sheets. Jay’s eyes zeroed in on the glistening entrance that invited him to devour. Opening his mouth with a big breath, he went in and placed an open mouth kiss on your core.
You squealed and jumped from the contact but Jay hooked his arms under your legs before you could fully pull away from him. He groaned at the taste of your captivating arousal on his taste buds. His tongue glided over your folds lathering and mixing his saliva with your arousal.
“Jong-Jay” You breathlessly let out as one of your hands grabbed a fist full of hair, tugging at it while Jay’s mouth sucked and sucked practically all wetness from you
Jay’s groan vibrated from your core all the way to your head, infiltrating it with ease. No response to your calls of his name as he continued to lap at your pussy. Shivering with each kiss and suck, you let out a loud gasp when you felt the intrusion of his tongue teasing your gaping hole.
Jay immediately pulled away, the string of saliva connecting his mouth to your soaked smeared entrance, you nearly came to the scene.
“Shhh, you have to be quite” He brought a single finger over his mouth, a smirk played on his mouth seeing the fading string on his lips, his finger glided over his swollen mouth
It collected all that was left over and Jay brought the finger into his mouth, tasting the lovely essence of you. He lightly hummed before bringing his finger out and gliding it over your mouth. “Open” The tone stern made you listen without hesitance
Seeing how easily you opened your mouth to welcome the singular finger in without any resistance had his pants grow tighter. Your tongue swirled around his finger, your eyes never letting go with his. He smirked wildly as he pushed his finger further down your throat.
A dark cloud consumed his mind. The rationality he tried to maintain drifted further away. You tried to take as much as you could, feeling how his fingers went further down.
“Looks like you can take stuff well” Jay sneered, a crazed looked in his eyes before you began choking on his finger, feeling the flesh reaching the back of your throat
Pulling his finger away, your mouth closed in on it, letting it out with a pop when his finger left the warmth of your mouth. His finger now covered in your saliva, he admired it.
Looking back at you only to see the wide hopeful eyes you stared at him with a loopy smile. “Beautiful” He whispered softly to himself before lowering his head back down
Expecting or more like anticipating the feel of his mouth again, you let out a louder gasp at the slip of his two fingers into your gaping hole. “Was just calling to be filled. I couldn’t ignore it” Jay muttered breathlessly as your walls clenched around him, “I promised to take care of you, didn’t I?”
“J-Jay” Your hand tried to grappled with his wrist but the drag of fingers near lying slipping out just to slip back him made you stop
Knuckles deep into you, he pulled out again just to shove them back in, repeating the same motion over and over again. The squelch of your arousal and the quiet pants let out, your mind became hazy quickly, “Quiet doll” Jay whispered
Before you could retain a sense of awareness to respond, his mouth attached to your swollen begging bundle of nerves and the first suck made you let out a loud moan.
Your hand flew to cover your mouth and with wide eyes you stared at Jay who froze. The single beautiful noise he heard made him smile against you.
He looked to see you covering your mouth, worried filling your eyes. Your chest rising and dropping. His freehand traveled up to replace your hand with his own. His thumb stroked your cheek, a sharp look in his eyes.
Maintaining a good pace, his fingers pumped into your welcoming entrance, never forgetting to curl and scissor you open. You let your moans fall into his hand, muffled more and more, the more he pressed down harder.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling the flick of his tongue on your clit as if it were the sweetest treat to ever exist. The stimulation made you shake and back arch just for him. Breathing as best as you could through your nose with each calculated and careful rub to the nerves had you fisting fisting at his hair while your legs wrapped around his head latching him onto your pussy.
“So fucking sweet” He murmured to your muffled moans, “Give it to me. Be a good girl” He knew you were on the edge, the pulse of you around his fingers was the near indicator, sucking him more and deeper into you
“Jay” You wail in his mouth before lightly biting on his palm to keep quiet as best as you could, “Ja-Jongseong!” You let out louder when suddenly a gush of release shot out of you as you came over his fingers with a tight clench that forced his fingers out of you
Jay moved his fingers over your folds encouraging more of your juices to be released as he slurped as much out of your leaking entrance as he could, not wanting a single thing to go to waste. His tongue only add more to your sensitivity as you body contorted even after it finally came to a stop, “Helping you out” The kisses were only constant while your whines and heavy pants continued, combining together
He stopped with one final kiss before finally pulling away and releasing your mouth from his hand. Your mind trying to comprehend and come down from the new height of pleasure, you let out a loud relieved sigh with a hidden shudder of satisfaction.
Seeing his smeared cover chin and loopy smile he had on his face made your chest flutter, “You okay there?” Jay lightly chuckled at your weak nod, “Big girl words doll. You know how to use them” Jay rose to hover above you
“Fuck me Jay”
Jay smirked letting out a hiss “Wasted no time and used such nasty words”
“Think you can be quiet for me?” Jay hummed trickled down your mind straight to your pulsating hole waiting to be filled
Nodding your head quickly and covering your mouth with your own hands made Jay’s lips tug to the side in pleasure. Jay fumbled with his belt, his eyes never leaving your lingering one and managed to free himself from the restraints of his pants with a strained sigh.
Your eyes widened zeroing in on the prominent bulge that was daring to burst any second, “Let me help you” He whispered replacing your hand with his
Titling his head to the side admiring the scene beneath him. Sprawled onto his messed up sheets that he’ll have to change after this, a daze filled look in your eye and his hand lightly covering your mouth.
Jay used his freehand as best as he could to free his raging hard-on that’s been deprived for many years. Your eyes watched his every move to see how his cock sprung against his abdomen, having your jaw drop. A very much leaking tip and small twitches at the freedom and something that was big—very big.
He felt the slack of your mouth and chuckled to himself feeling the pride swell his chest. “What’s wrong doll?” He murmured when removing his hand waiting for some type of response
Your mouth opened and closed trying to form some type of articulating thought but nothing came out. “Think you can handle all of it? Can you think of taking me all in here mhmm?” Jay’s hand rubbed over your stomach in a slow manner
“Think you can be a good girl and stay quiet while I fuck you senseless?”
You were able to feel the thumping against your chest that you feared he would be able to hear. You don’t think in your wildest dreams would you be able to take someone like Jay. Yet, now in your wildest reality, you’ll try—well more like you will.
You tugged at Jay’s forearm whilst maintaining eye contact with him. The soft tug at your bottom lip as you threaded his hand to cover your mouth. You nodded your head as your eyes looked at him with greed. “Why don’t you find out?”
To your shock, Jay softly tugged his arm away from your hold. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tapped at your leg, “Turn around”
Seeming getting used to your jaw falling slack, you looked at him in shock but didn’t hear an ounce of sputter in his tone. Not wanting to risk being left all hot and bothered even though you knew Jay wouldn’t dare. You were not testing his patience today.
With a harsh gulp, you flipped your body over. Jay’s hands hovering over your hips before tugging them up before you could fully lay them onto his bed. Your upper body pressed into the mattress, feeling the messed up sheets sticking to the side of your face.
Your hands fisted at the sheets at the new exposure you had for him while your cheeks burned in shyness. He rubbed your hips in awe, pulling one of your cheeks to the side to get a glimpse of the arousal covered crevice. “Is this all for me doll?”
“A-All for you. Just you”
His other hand grabbed the heft into his palm before aligning at your entrance. “Remember to keep quiet” He reminded, “Take a nice big deep breath for me”
You followed his instructions but before you could fully respond you felt the larger intrusion of his tip to your gaping hole making you silently gasp. The stretch compared to nothing you’ve ever felt before and would possibly never.
“Fuck” You breathlessly let out as Jay continued to sink himself deeper
Jay tried his best to not ram himself entirely into the delicious confinement you provided but it called for him—while sucking and welcoming him inside.
“S-shit taking me so good” He muttered as quietly as he could, “Could stay inside you forever”
You felt like you were being split in half just by his cock alone. Your ragged breaths followed after another trying to remember Jay’s advice and not get lost in the sensation.
You peered over your shoulder as best as you could to see how Jay’s looked to where he entered you. The sheer concentration and control made your mind stutter.
Without a warning, in a single thrust, your body jolted forward and you felt full. You gasped loudly, the sheets crumbling more under your clamped hands and body. Your lip shivered as you tried to keep your noises to a minimum.
“J-Jay” Your voice cracked trying to get adjusted to your walls being so stretched out by him
“It’s okay, I got you” His reassurance filled your chest with warmth, taking a few breaths to regulate your body, you weakly nodded your head as you dug your head into the mattress to muffle yourself, “So good for me” He uttered softly tracing your back
Moving his hips once, he quickly got lost in the sense of you wrapped around him. His thrust left you nearly empty only to be filled the next second. Each precise move was calculated to each maximum pleasure possible for you. Nearly able to feel his tip already hitting deep to your g-spot, poking to your insides in a teasing manner.
Your muffled moans fueled Jay further to the edge. He gripped at your hips, his slow pace now picking up only slightly. You were taking all of him and he never felt prouder. “Taking me like such a good girl, so damn proud of you”
Feeling like your head was submerged in water, you relished in his praise. The senses that were always on high alert whenever he was around came crumbling down and became filled with him.
“F-for you” You blabbed against the sheets and Jay managed to hear it making him tap at your lower back as he carefully placed his body onto of yours to melt as one
Each thrust led you further into the mattress, your mouth opened leaving small moans in its wake, leaving your mind blank to only focus on the fulfillment you had inside.
Turning your head to the side, you let out whined filled pants. “Take it doll- Not a fucking sound” Jay grunted darkly into your ear
Your mind tried to recall the words just said to you. But deeper and stronger was the desire to let Jay know how he was making you feel. Feeling you clamp around him harder and the silent pants soon became quiet moans.
“T-Too good. ‘m sorry” You mewled as he continued to thrust into you, “So good, can-can’t help it” Your body meshed as he continued
You took a loud deep breath while a whine rumbled out of your chest when he suddenly stopped his thrust, “As much as I would love to hear you” Jay’s sudden harsh thrust caught you off guard with a yelp, “You need to be quiet” Each word followed by another harsh thrust that touched nearly every thing imaginable inside of you
Your broken wails were muffled by the bedding once again. Seeing the recoil of when he and you meet only fueled a carnal desire in him more. “Gonna breed your sweet pussy doll”
“You’ll be so full of me…Will you like that?” Jay grunts having the calculated thrust embodied your mind and body just for him
His words added to the fire that was consuming your body whole. You nodded your head roughly. “Remember what I said. Big girl words” Jay’s voice lulled into your ear, “Want me to fill you up that’ll you feel it inside of you? Until it’s moving around in you with each step you take?”
The obscene noises only grew louder against his bed as you tried to form a proper sentence to please Jay. “Y-yes” You pleaded as best as you could, “Please Ja-Jay”
“Whatever you ask for doll” Jay snapped his hips harsher, as you clawed at the sheets for support, “Taking me so fucking good- Bet you’ll take everything I give you”
You weakly nodded your head, “Will- F-For you” You murmured
His thrust grew frantic and irregular, his constant grunts filled your ears. The more you clamped around him, not daring to let him go of the welcoming embrace you had around him drew him nearer his organsm.
“Doin’ so good for me” His hand held onto your body when he felt you tightened as you let out the loudest moan of the night as you came all over his cock
Your body shivered as you entered a state of pure bliss. “Take it- Just a little more for me- C’mon doll” His praises slipped passed your gaze and deep into your heart making the clench you had on Jay limit his range of motion but it was enough to have him snap and paint your pink velvet walls white of him.
A low groan slipped his mouth as he halted his thrust to properly fill you to the brim just like how he promised. He watched how you pulsed around him but none of the cum dared to fall out as you took everything he split into you.
Jay’s chest rose up and down, softly pulling out his semi hard cock out of you hearing the small hiss you let out at the sudden emptiness. Your body laid face first on his bed, your body rising and falling with each heavy pant. He smiled softly as he helped you turn your body around to face him.
There he realized his biggest mistake as he saw you masked in an afterglow. Your mouth was slack slightly opened, quiet whines fell out every now and then, your half lidded eyes staring up at him.
His eyes traveled to where he once was inside of you to see the few clumps of cum that spilled out. He cooed before quickly scooping whatever he could to sleek it over your folds before pushing it back in where he left it.
You whined loudly and slightly jolted at your sensitivity being tested when his fingers entered you again. “You did so good for me- Such a good girl for me fuck… I’m so proud of you” Jay planted a messy peck against your cheek, “Let’s get you cleaned up” He whispered
As he was going to remove his fingers out of you, you consciously tightened around them. You lazily shook your head unable to articulate proper sentences that wouldn’t lead you back on his cock again which ultimately failed, “Want your cock” You slurred catching Jay off guard as he let out a strained cough
“Wha-What was that doll?”
“I want your cock again sir”
Like a switch went off in his head. Jay’s demeanor changed. Never knowing the single usage of sir could alter his mind forever. Instantly needing to give you more—more than anything you could ever ask for, wanting to spoil you rotten until you grow sick and tired of him.
He needs to fill you up until you possibly couldn’t hold any more of his cum in you. Softly prying your legs open, he aligned himself at your entrance again gaining your attention at how he easily complied to your request. “No need to ask me twice doll”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
The faint bristle of wind coming in through the slightly ajared window, the direct sunlight shining through caused Jay’s face to flinch before groggily opening his eyes with a low groan.
Normally, his daughter jumps on his bed to wake him from dreamless sleep during the weekends. Yet, it was different this time. He managed to wake up on his own to no ruckus but instead a peaceful morning.
Attempting to stretch out his limbs to release some of the tension and drowsiness from it, he stops when he hears the muffled grumbles and faint sound of crinkling sheets. Tilting his head to the side, there he saw you and his daughter basked in the sunlight right next to him.
His daughter coddled in between while you laid against his numb arm, both sound asleep. He fondly smiled to himself before placing soft kisses on each of your foreheads, careful to not stir either of you awake. This was all he could have ever dreamed of.
“My beautiful girls”
——
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brunchable · 6 months ago
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𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿
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Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? If you're not up for a few second-hand embarrassment sit this one out lol. Summary: Your coworker peer pressured you to look up SergeantBarnes in Pornhub, reason? Because apparently you're missing out. A/N: This would make a good mini series. . .but we'll see. I had a dream. . .that he was a guy next door, just wanted to-of course-add a twist to it asdfghjkl.
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It was all Amy’s fault. And Trish’s. And okay, maybe you shared a little bit of the blame for caving to the intense peer pressure at work. But still.
You’d been minding your own business in the break room, scrolling through lunch menus, when Amy had sidled up, leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, and whispered, “Have you seen him yet?”
“Seen who?” your eyebrows creased as you asked, confused.
Trish popped up out of nowhere, clutching her latte in her hand. “Girl, SeargentBarnes. The guy is legendary—I mean, a literal internet icon.”
You shrugged, feigning indifference while they exchanged a look that practically screamed, amateur. They started talking all at once, dropping cryptic phrases like “too hot to handle,” “you’re gonna die,” and, “you’ll never look at men the same way again.”
So there you were that night, alone with your laptop, curled up in bed and biting your lip as you debated whether to type it in. It’s just curiosity, you reasoned. Research purposes.
Your eyes widened as the screen filled with… well, humanity, in all its naked, unfiltered glory. Your face heated up so fast you could’ve sworn it was the same shade as your throw pillow. Videos lined up like some weird buffet, titles more scandalous than anything you’d ever whispered in confession, and… was that a whole category devoted to delivery men? You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from yelping, mortified at the intensity of it all. 
“I need to go to church after this,” you muttered, squinting like that would somehow censor the thorough dedication people were showing in their, uh, procreation endeavors.
“SergeantBarnes,” you muttered to yourself as you typed, fingers hovering uncertainly over the Enter key. Then, with a sigh, you hit search, and… oh.
You nearly choked on oxygen. Because there he was, in HD glory, right on Pornhub, with that cocky grin and those blue eyes that looked like they’d been crafted in a lab. And he wasn’t just standing there looking smug—oh, no, he was on a mission, shirtless, flexing, and smirking at the camera like he was the world’s best-kept secret. The scene panned to him sitting on the edge of a bed, peeling off his belt with one hand, a glint in his eyes that seemed to say, this is what you came for.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, equal parts horrified and morbidly fascinated, as he proceeded to… well, get very familiar with his costar. SergeantBarnes was apparently an expert at multitasking, using every muscle, every inch of his well-equipped arsenal. And the way he was delivering lines? He was clearly treating the camera like it was his soulmate.
By minute two, your jaw had dropped. By minute five, you’d set the laptop on your nightstand to “watch responsibly.” By minute ten, you were convinced Amy and Trish had permanently ruined your life.
And the costar—she was practically putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, her reactions so intense you half expected her to start speaking in tongues. Every time SergeantBarnes’s… rod of justice plunges deep inside, she gasps like she was witnessing a miracle. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Come on, is that really necessary?
As you watched, he gave a low, rumbling sound—half growl, half sigh—that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. His gaze burned through the screen with a confidence that was practically magnetic, and suddenly, you understood exactly why the costar was gasping. A new, unbidden heat pooled between your legs, making you shift uncomfortably, instinctively pressing your thighs together as if that could somehow stop the flush creeping up your face. Oh no, now I wish I were her, you thought, immediately cringing at yourself.
With a mix of half-laughter and half-horror, you reached over and slammed the laptop shut so fast it was like you were trying to save yourself from spontaneous combustion. 
“Holy—oh, wow,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your face. “Okay. That was a one-time thing.”
Or so you thought.
Except now, every time you even glanced at your laptop, SergeantBarnes was right there in your mind, reminding you exactly why he was internet-famous. It was becoming a bit of a problem.
× × × ×
The next morning, you stumbled out of your apartment, looking like something that had been left out in the rain and dragged through a blender, mentally cursing last night’s “research” session. The world had no right to be this bright, and your regret levels were at an all-time high as you lugged the world’s heaviest box down the hallway.
You were so absorbed in avoiding a complete breakdown that you barely registered the deep, too-familiar voice beside you.
“Need help with that?”
“Thanks, but I got it,” you muttered automatically, barely sparing him a glance.
Except...then you did.
You looked up, squinting in confusion. Because, standing in front of you, in the perfectly mundane hallway of your perfectly mundane building, was him.
You froze, your brain spinning like a buffering screen. Okay, this guy’s insanely handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, stubbled jaw, eyes so blue they should have a health warning on them. You stared, mentally cataloging each feature, when—wait a minute... WAIT. A. MINUTE.
Your eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling as your brain finally fired up. Is that…? No, it can’t be.
But it was. Oh, it absolutely was. 
SergeantBarnes, the very star of last night’s “educational” viewing, right here in the flesh. And suddenly, like a tractor beam had locked onto you, your gaze dropped right to his crotch, where you’d witnessed things you could never un-see.
This, of course, did not go unnoticed. His brows shot up as he followed your very obvious, very treacherous line of sight, glancing down at his jeans before looking back up at you with an infuriatingly smug grin.
“Uh… nice shoes?” you blurted out, your face feeling like it was on fire. You vaguely gestured to his boots, wishing you could vanish right into the walls.
“Thanks,” he replied smoothly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They’re pretty sturdy. But, you know…” He paused, his voice dropping just a hair. “I don’t think they’re what you were looking at.”
Your heart sank as you forced yourself to look up, his amused blue eyes practically laughing at you. Abort. Abort mission. Oh God, we are way past mission failure.
“Uh—no, I just… um…” You floundered, desperately trying to think of something, anything, that might save you from the hole you’d dug. But no words came. Not even the faintest semblance of a coherent thought. Just one long, silent scream echoing in your brain.
“Bucky,” he offered helpfully, sticking out his hand like he wasn’t SergeantBarnes from Pornhub, but just some guy offering to help with a box. “New neighbor, by the way.”
You stared at his hand like it was a booby trap, your brain short-circuiting as it reminded you exactly where those fingers had been. That hand had gripped… things. It had been places you’d only dreamed of, doing things you’d probably need a core workout just to survive. You could practically see the “viewer discretion advised” warning flashing in your head as you hesitated, still staring at his hand as if it might explode.
But, against your better judgment—and every shred of dignity—you slowly reached out and shook it, feeling your own fingers betray you by sweating as they made contact with his very… experienced ones.
“Uh… hi… I’m… yep.” you blurted, mentally cringing.
“‘Yep’? That’s a good name,” he said, smirking as he let go. “You sure you don’t need help? You seem… a little flustered.”
Flustered? Understatement of the century. If your dignity had been a cup, it was empty, bone-dry, and cracked. You forced yourself to focus, eyes straight forward, pointedly ignoring the very tempting crotch-level view. 
“I’m fine! Totally fine!” you squeaked, cringing at your own voice. Oh God, calm down!
But he just chuckled, that same dangerously cocky smile from last night plastered all over his face. “Alright, Yep. Guess I’ll see you around.”
As he turned to leave, you stood there in the hallway, clutching the box like it was a life raft, heart racing a mile a minute. You’d just had a very public staring incident with SergeantBarnes, your new neighbor, and all you’d managed to say was nice shoes.
I’m gonna need new coworkers, you thought, practically burying your face in the box as you scurried to your apartment.
The door slammed shut with a bang that could probably be heard across state lines. You dropped the box unceremoniously, ignoring the loud thunk as it hit the floor, and whipped your phone out, fingers flying across the screen like you were composing a manifesto.
Guys, you’re NEVER gonna guess who my neighbor is—
You paused, staring at the screen as the rest of the text formed in your mind: THE SergeantBarnes. LIVE. IN. THE. FLESH.
But then another thought stopped you dead in your tracks. Oh no.
You could already picture it: Amy and Trish showing up like rabid fangirls in their “I Heart SergeantBarnes” merch, carrying suspiciously flimsy plates of brownies. Trish would have binoculars. Amy would be taking notes, probably trying to “accidentally” leave her phone number under his door. You shuddered, imagining them cornering him by the mailboxes, all of them acting like they were definitely not the type of women who had his entire catalog bookmarked on their phones.
A horrible realization hit you. If I tell them, this man’s gonna be living a nightmare right next door to me. Not just a nightmare, a Trish-and-Amy-sponsored fan club nightmare, where they might even break into song—probably chanting, “SergeantBarnes! SergeantBarnes!” while he tries to get his groceries.
You looked back at your unsent message and deleted it in one go, feeling weirdly proud of yourself. Yeah, no. I’m not letting them anywhere near him.
Totally altruistic, of course. It had nothing to do with keeping the eye candy to yourself.
You took a deep breath, looking around your empty apartment like you were expecting the FBI to burst through the door at any second. Sure, you’d just been in the hallway with the actual SergeantBarnes, but maybe… maybe you were imagining things. It had been a long day. Moving was stressful. Stranger things had happened, right?
With a surge of resolve (and denial), you dashed to your bedroom, practically sliding across the floor as you went. Your laptop was waiting innocently on the nightstand, and with a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure you were still alone, you opened it up, clicked incognito mode like you were hiding state secrets, and went straight to the website you’d sworn off only hours ago.
“Alright… just to confirm,” you muttered to yourself, feeling your cheeks burn as you typed SergeantBarnes into the search bar, mentally bracing yourself for the flood of results.
And there he was. The whole page filled with him, in various… positions. You swallowed, scrolling until one video caught your eye: “Sergeant Disciplines the Bratty Recruit.”
You snorted, almost slamming the laptop shut. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…”
But curiosity was a dangerous beast, and before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger had already clicked play.
The video started, with SergeantBarnes in all his glory, wearing what looked like the world’s tightest military uniform. His face was as smug as ever, that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes as he muttered something absurd like, “Think you can handle me, recruit?”
“Oh my god,” you whispered, cringing as you half-covered your eyes but peeked through your fingers anyway.
But there was no denying it—the face, the voice, the ridiculous, smoldering look into the camera. There was no escaping it now. It was 100% him. The same guy who was now living approximately ten feet away from your own front door.
As the video continued, your disbelief only grew. This man… this man is next door, could eating cereal right now, you thought, torn between horrified fascination and the urge to laugh. Because there he was, in full “disciplinary action” mode, doing things you could barely process, and here you were, watching it again, just to make sure it was really him.
“Oh, I’m doomed,” you muttered, slapping the laptop shut. You weren’t even sure if you were embarrassed, impressed, or maybe just a little terrified of your own neighbor.
× × × ×
Over the next few days, it was like living in a twisted sitcom. Everywhere you went, he was there, lurking like some kind of sexy, mildly inconvenient specter. It was uncanny. You’d turn a corner, and bam—there he’d be, giving you that polite nod and a smirk that clearly said, I know exactly what you’ve seen.
It started small. You’d step into the elevator, praying for a peaceful ride, and ding! in he’d stroll, flashing that devastating grin. Instantly, you’d stiffen, gluing yourself to the opposite wall, practically trying to meld with the buttons, heart pounding like you were about to pass out. You couldn’t even look him in the eye without flashes of his, uh, “filmography” playing in your mind. Every single time, without fail, you found yourself studying the very clean floor of the elevator as he leaned casually against the wall, the corners of his mouth tugging up.
“Nice day, isn’t it?” he’d ask, all smooth, innocent charm. Meanwhile, you were there like, Oh, totally, perfect day to run into my favorite Pornhub star.
You were in the laundry room, blissfully alone, humming to yourself as you separated your clothes like a responsible adult. Whites here, colors there, delicates—well, you were kind of just tossing them wherever at this point. Then, suddenly, you felt it: a shift in the air, a presence. You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up, a sock suspended mid-toss in your hand. Why do I feel like the music should be getting dramatic right about now?
Slowly, as if sensing his approach, you turned. And there he was—Bucky, striding in with a laundry basket filled with a suspiciously pristine pile of perfectly folded, incredibly manly clothing. It was as if he’d just stepped out of some kind of… laundry commercial. Or worse… one of his own videos.
You blinked, eyes widening as a thousand clichés suddenly flashed through your mind. Oh no, why does this feel like the start of a porn? you thought, biting your lip as you realized the two of you were, in fact, very alone, surrounded by washing machines and suspiciously warm lighting. You mentally kicked yourself. Snap out of it! This is laundry. Regular, boring laundry.
Bucky caught your eye, giving you an amused once-over. “Doing some laundry?” he asked, his voice low and casual, but somehow it felt like the most suggestive question in the world.
You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Uh-huh,” you managed, trying to sound like a normal human being. “Just, uh… laundry.”
Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized half of your load was underwear, strewn everywhere. Panties, bras, socks—they were all there in their mismatched glory, practically screaming, We’re personal items! Pay extra attention! You yanked your gaze away from the pile, mortified, and flung the sock into the washer like you were trying to disarm a bomb.
You slammed the washer lid down, feeling like you’d just revealed way too much. But Bucky only grinned, strolling over with that maddening swagger. He tossed a shirt into the washer beside you, leaning against it with a smirk.
“Nice sorting skills,” he commented, eyes flicking down to the very obvious pile of bras and lace that you’d tried to hide. “Very… thorough.”
“Yep!” you squeaked, feeling like you might explode. You fumbled with the detergent bottle, struggling to open it as your brain went into full-blown panic mode. Why does this feel like one of those videos? Don’t look at him. Just don’t look. Pretend you’re alone. Pretend this is fine.
But of course, he wasn’t making it any easier. He folded his arms, watching you with a raised brow, the picture of calm while you were desperately trying to load underwear without dying of embarrassment. 
“You know,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh, “usually people try to separate colors from whites.”
“Oh, I do! I mean, I… it’s a system,” you stammered, feeling like you were caught in a lie by the laundry police. “Sometimes it’s… it’s an artistic choice.”
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with that insufferable amusement. “Artistic laundry, huh? Didn’t take you for the experimental type.”
“Yep,” you said, forcing a laugh as you stuffed in the last sock, your hands moving at lightning speed, desperate to finish and escape.
But as you turned to leave, he held up a stray bra that had somehow escaped your grasp, dangling it between two fingers with a raised eyebrow. 
“You forgot this,” he said, voice dripping with that same mischievous humor.
You stared at the bra in horror, feeling your face go molten. 
“Uh… thanks,” you mumbled, practically ripping it out of his hand and stuffing it into the washer, slamming the lid down one last time before you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of there.
Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly, his voice echoing in the hallway. “See you around, neighbor.”
Yep, you thought, already halfway down the hall, never doing laundry again.
By day three, it got ridiculous. You’d ducked into the mailroom, hoping he was out doing normal human things—maybe mowing a lawn or whatever. But no, as soon as you opened your mailbox, there he was, standing by his own, sorting through a stack of letters. You froze, briefly considering whether you could just flee and come back later for your electric bill.
And then… the grocery bag incident.
You were in the hallway, arms overloaded with bags because, naturally, you’d ignored the cart right by the entrance and had instead decided to carry it all in one go. You were so close to your door when you heard footsteps behind you.
“Need help?” he asked, that voice making you nearly fumble every bag in your arms.
You turned, scrambling to say, “No, I’m good,” but of course, in your panic, one of your bags tipped, and a lone, horrifying item fell out and hit the floor. You watched, paralyzed, as the little bottle of lube rolled out with an audible clatter, spinning lazily to a stop right in front of him.
You could practically feel the heat exploding from your cheeks. No. Oh no. Not like this.
You looked up, meeting his amused, slightly raised eyebrows as his lips twitched, clearly fighting a smile. 
“Uh,” you choked out, unable to form a single coherent sentence. Think fast, make it sound normal, you told yourself, even though every possible explanation was racing out of your head.
He bent down, picking up the bottle with a glint of pure mischief in his eyes, inspecting it like he’d just found evidence of some grand crime.
“Hey, everyone’s got needs,” he said, deadpan, but that twinkle in his eye was anything but innocent. “Don’t worry.” He tossed you a wink, handing the bottle back like it was no big deal.
Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as your brain scrambled to form a sentence. Finally, the words tumbled out like a train wreck, your dignity left somewhere back at the grocery store.
“It’s… it’s for my friend,” you squeaked, clutching the lube bottle with both hands like it was a sacred artifact. He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too entertained for your liking. “She’s, uh, she’s constipated.”
A moment of silence.
“She needs it to… you know, help with a suppository.” You forced a grin that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “She, uh… can’t get things moving. Really jammed up in there.”
Bucky’s face twisted in barely suppressed laughter, and his shoulders shook as he struggled to keep a straight face. 
“Right,” he drawled, nodding with an expression that was one part pity and two parts are you for real? “That’s… thoughtful of you.”
You felt like you were overheating, a human furnace on the verge of combustion. 
“She’s desperate!” you blurted, doubling down on your ridiculous story, even though every fiber of your being was screaming to stop talking. “I’m just being a good friend, you know? Supportive. I mean, she’s the one who’s backed up.”
He nodded again, still fighting a smile, the look in his eyes a mix of amusement and something else that made your pulse race. 
“Sure,” he said, “nothing like helping a friend in need.” He paused, that wicked smile growing as he added, “In my experience, though, there are plenty of other uses for it.”
Your soul left your body.
He held out his hands in mock innocence, chuckling as your eyes widened to saucers. 
“Just saying,” he winked. “Versatile stuff.” 
And with that, he turned, strolling down the hall with a casual wave, leaving you frozen and mortified, clutching the bottle to your chest like a lifeline.
“Gotta… go,” you managed, voice barely a whisper, stumbling the last few steps to your door as you fumbled with the keys, practically falling inside.
The second the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, staring at the ceiling and whispering, “I’m never leaving my apartment again.”
Just as you were about to bury your face in your hands and live in the sweet, silent embrace of shame, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, still reeling from the lube disaster, and saw a text from your friend, Clara.
Clara: Hey!! Did you get the lube?? Need it ASAP, things are… not moving over here, if you catch my drift.
You groaned, staring at the message, letting it sink in that yes, this entire disaster had been real. 
You: Yes. Got it. Never speaking of this again.
Clara: Bless you, you lifesaver. My digestive system owes you a standing ovation.
You rolled your eyes, still red-faced. Clara had no idea you’d just had to explain the entire situation to your painfully attractive neighbor—who now likely thought you were a walking sitcom.
× × × ×
It started subtly—just a little teasing, or so you thought. But it quickly spiraled into a game you could only describe as Bucky Barnes: Merciless Teasing—Extended Cut. Every time you crossed paths, he managed to twist the knife just a little deeper, making you sweat, stumble, and practically choke on your own words.
The first time it happened, you were hauling a huge box out of your car, trying to look capable and independent, when he strolled up beside you, leaning against the car with a smirk.
“You act like I’m a celebrity,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Every time you see me, you look ready to run.”
You fumbled, nearly dropping the box. 
“Nope! I’m just…uh, busy!” you squeaked, scrambling to walk away at top speed, box clutched to your chest like a shield. But you caught his laugh as you rushed off, making you want to evaporate on the spot.
The next time, you were in the stairwell, headphones in, desperately trying to avoid any more awkward run-ins. Naturally, the moment you looked up, there he was, lounging at the landing like some kind of paid actor in a commercial. You froze mid-step as he raised a brow.
“Look at that,” he said, giving you the once-over, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time you see me. Is it something I did?”
You stammered, turning pink. 
“No! Just, uh… headphones! Music! Loud music!” you blurted, before speed-walking up the stairs, praying he didn’t hear the Spice Girls song you’d been blasting. Behind you, his chuckle echoed up the stairwell like the final taunt of a villain.
But the absolute worst came at the coffee shop.
You were in line, looking at your phone, hoping you could just breeze in and out. The moment you placed your order and turned to leave, there he was, standing right behind you, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Hey, neighbor,” he drawled, eyeing your coffee cup like it was some incriminating evidence. “Funny running into you here. Or… do you keep running into me?”
Your face flushed, and you tried to think of something clever, but it was like all your brain cells had gone on vacation. 
“Nope! Definitely just getting coffee! I don’t even… live near here!” you babbled, immediately regretting everything.
“Oh, interesting,” he replied, his grin widening. “Because I could swear you live right next door. But hey, if you want to keep pretending you don’t know me, I’ll go along with it.” He handed you your coffee with a wink. “See you around… or not.”
But things took a turn for the mortifying when, one evening, you were pacing the hallway on the phone with Clara, trying to vent without actually collapsing in a pile of awkwardness.
“It’s him, Clara!” you hissed, oblivious to the fact that you were pacing right outside Bucky’s door. “I’m living next door to SergeantBarnes! Can you believe this? I’ve seen everything he has to offer! I’ve practically studied him!”
Clara was howling with laughter, but you were too wrapped up in your frustration to care.
“And he knows, Clara! He keeps showing up everywhere, saying stuff like, ‘You seem nervous’ and ‘You keep looking at me like you know something I don’t.’ I swear, he’s doing it on purpose!” You paused, sighing dramatically. “The man is basically torturing me!”
“Yeah?” Clara snorted. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
“Nothing! I’m gonna hide in my apartment forever! I mean, the guy is—” You froze mid-sentence, sensing a presence that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Please, for the love of all that is holy, no.
You slowly turned, and there he was. Bucky. Leaning against his door, arms crossed, looking like he’d just won the freaking lottery.
“Oh… my god…” you whispered, feeling your soul leave your body. He was watching you with an expression of pure, unfiltered amusement, one eyebrow quirked, lips pulled into that infuriating, knowing smirk.
“Well,” he said, voice laced with mischief. “That makes one of us.” His eyes glinted with barely-contained laughter. “And here I thought you were just a fan of my boots.”
You could practically feel your brain cells going up in smoke. 
“I… uh… well… I…” you stammered, cheeks burning. “Boots… are great,” you managed, wanting to sink into the earth.
“Yeah? Because I seem to remember you looking… elsewhere last time,” he teased, stepping a little closer, enjoying every second of your embarrassment.
“Oh, no! Just… boots!” you squeaked, backing up, practically tripping over yourself. “I really should go… water my… uh… plants!”
He chuckled, savoring every second of your panic. “Good luck with that,” he said, throwing in one last wink as he slipped back into his apartment, leaving you in the hallway, feeling like you’d just gone through a slow-motion car crash.
Back in your apartment, you slid down the door, hands over your face as Clara’s laughter erupted over the phone.
“Boots?” she howled. “THAT’S what you went with? Boots?”
You groaned, banging your head back against the door. “Shut up, Clara.”
× × × ×
Determined to reclaim a shred of your dignity, you strode into the local coffee shop, praying for a quiet morning with zero embarrassing encounters. But, as if on cue, the universe had other plans.
There, right at the counter, was Bucky. He spotted you instantly, his face lighting up with that all-too-familiar grin that had haunted your dreams. There was no escape.
He waved you over, and before you could even think of pretending you hadn’t seen him, he was calling out, “Morning, neighbor! What’s your coffee order again?” His voice was loud enough that half the shop turned to look.
“Oh, um… it’s…” you stammered, but he’d already waved to the barista.
“Got it covered,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve got a feeling you like it with extra cream.”
You choked on your own saliva, feeling your face turn crimson as he handed you the cup with a wink. 
“Unless I’m wrong?” he added with a smirk, feigning innocence.
“N-Nope, that’s right!” you managed, grabbing the cup like it was a shield. “Extra cream… perfect.”
He chuckled, gesturing to an empty booth in the corner. “Great. Then you won’t mind sitting down with me for breakfast.”
“Oh no, really, I should—”
He raised an eyebrow. “What, got somewhere better to be?”
You froze, helplessly aware that the entire coffee shop was listening in. You managed a nervous laugh, mumbling, “Well… no, I guess not…”
Before you knew it, you were sitting across from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, your cheeks burning as he sipped his coffee and watched you with a smug smile.
“So,” he said, leaning forward, “what’s a girl like you doing watching a guy like me online, anyway?”
Your jaw dropped, coffee cup halfway to your mouth. “I—I wasn’t watching—It was research!” you spluttered, already kicking yourself for falling right into his trap.
He chuckled, clearly reveling in your embarrassment. 
“Oh, sure, ‘research,’” he said, nodding like he totally believed you. “I get it. You know, it’s important to be informed.”
You practically shrank into your seat, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. “Could you not say that so loudly?”
He smirked, taking a long, deliberate sip of his coffee. 
“Relax, I’m just curious,” he said, leaning in close enough that you could smell his aftershave. “Gotta say, it’s a little flattering to have a fan right next door.”
Your brain completely short-circuited. “Fan? I—no! I mean, not like that… I… I barely even…” You could feel the lie crumbling in your throat as his smirk deepened.
“Uh-huh. Then why did you look like you were about to sprint every time you saw me?” He tilted his head, studying you, eyes twinkling. “And I swear you turned pink the second you walked in here.”
Your hands shot up, covering your cheeks. “I did not! You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Because it’s like clockwork. Every time I’m around, you look like you’ve been caught red-handed. I don’t mind, you know,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
You let out a strangled laugh, ready to crawl under the table. 
“That’s… obvious,” you muttered, feeling as though you might combust at any second.
“Okay, so since we’re having breakfast together, how about you tell me: any favorite scenes?” He laughed, looking entirely too amused as he stirred his coffee.
You practically choked on your coffee, face flaming as you tried to hide behind your cup. 
“I—I can’t believe you just asked that!” you squeaked, horrified and unable to meet his gaze.
“Oh, come on,” he grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “It’s just small talk. I mean, who better to ask than a neighbor?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please pretend this conversation never happened?”
“Nope. Can’t do that,” he replied, laughing. “I think it’s a little late for that.”
Just as you were starting to pray for an earthquake to swallow you whole, you glanced up at him, cheeks still flaming. 
“Did you… did you know I recognized you this whole time?”
He leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. 
“Of course I did,” he said, laughing. “Figured it out the second I saw that look on your face. I just wanted to see if you’d ever bring it up.”
“Oh my god,” you muttered, feeling mortification seep into your very bones. “And you kept messing with me?”
“Of course,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a wicked grin. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to crack. Guess now the ice is broken, huh?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re the worst.”
He winked, finishing his coffee. “Yeah, but I make breakfast interesting, don’t I?”
You laughed, feeling the last traces of embarrassment fade away—well, at least enough to breathe normally again. But just as you started to feel almost… comfortable, Bucky tilted his head, giving you a curious look.
“So, neighbor,” he said, smirking, “I’ve gotta ask… what’s your name?”
You blinked, realizing with a jolt that you’d never actually told him. In all your attempts to dodge, deflect, and survive the relentless teasing, you hadn’t even bothered to introduce yourself.
“Oh… right,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I, uh, guess I never actually said.”
“Nope,” he replied, leaning in with a grin. “I just assumed you wanted to keep a little mystery between us.”
You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Trust me, I’m not that mysterious.”
“Really?” he replied, eyebrows raised. “Because all this time I’ve been calling you ‘Yep.’”
Your face went red as you remembered the first time you’d stammered a barely coherent “yep” instead of an introduction. “Oh my god. You haven’t been calling me that in your head this whole time, have you?”
He shrugged, smirking. “It’s kind of cute. Suits you, actually.”
You groaned, but laughed despite yourself, finally holding out your hand across the table. “Alright. I’m Y/N. Officially.”
“Y/N,” he repeated, taking your hand, his grip warm and firm. His smirk softened into something a little more genuine. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Officially.”
His hand lingered in yours for a beat longer than necessary, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no innuendos—just the two of you, sitting across the table, smiling like two normal people who’d just met under… semi-normal circumstances.
Then, just as you were starting to think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this weirdly charming neighbor situation, he leaned back, that mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes.
“Now that we’re on a first-name basis,” he said, winking, “you can tell me all about your favorite scenes. You know, for professional feedback.”
You burst out laughing, face in your hands as he watched you with a triumphant grin. Yep, you thought, already regretting nothing and everything.
3K notes · View notes
tonycries · 5 months ago
Text
DDD
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Synopsis. What’s destroyed on Destroy D!ck December? Him.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, MARATHONS, heavy overstím, creampíes, BRÉEDING, cúmplay, pússydrunk men, ínnapropríate use of jujutsu, powers going haywire, matíng press, making them cry, bondagé (Nanami), GOJO’S POWERS, mánhandling, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s mouths, p talking, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 6.1k
A/N. Hope you all have a lovely December <3
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 23rd Dec. 5:46AM
It’s around this time that Toji Fushiguro loses count - loses his damn mind. 
Gasping- heaving back every tiny whimper when his ruby red tip plants sopping wet smacks right down your tender folds. Gushing out generous helpings of pearly white that slip and slide all the way down.
And it hasn’t been once. Oh, it hasn’t even been twice. 
Dozens upon dozens of times - for hours now - Toji was collapsing his big, beefy limbs down into yours in the messiest mating press. With a dragged-out groan, he’s smearing his thumb down the edges of your treacling slit, popping it into his mouth eagerly. 
“Heh- jus’ look at her all overflowin’ f’me.” Toji’s rasping - voice so shot he could barely even breathe. And you wonder if he even realizes he’s babbling this way. “S’that oh- s’that twenty-three, yet?” 
It better not be.
Toji refuses to let it be. 
“C-can feel it coming again-” he’s choking out a ragged whine. How embarrassing. Thick fingers curling around your throat to squeeze, “-can hah- can I- inside again…please, doll.”
It’s as if on some slutty autopilot that you let his massive, calloused palms glide down your thighs and push. The way his bulging biceps flex with strain makes your mouth water - all bulging and covered in a thin sheen of sweat that smears against yours. 
He was out of control. Out of his sanity.
And just one peak down at the creamy ring your cunt was coating around his hefty hilt was enough for Toji to throw his head back with a moan of your name.
Destroyed. 
With a fatigued shiver, he’s spearheading his fat head into you until you see white, dragging a drippingly wet swipe of steaming hot precum all over your cushiony sweet spots.. 
Whispering, “Shit- what ya do to me- s-squeeze me- squeeze me with that pretty pussy jus’ once.” Racking out a bout of violent shivers down the entirety of his hulking body when your sloppy walls give his girth a tight little clench. 
And that’s all it takes for Toji to cum.
All it takes for his sensitive cock to bawl out in stringy wads of seed that splatter right into the bottom of your pussy, pumping you full. Toji falls tiredly onto his elbows with a sudden hiss at the stinging thwack! of his twitchy balls sticking to your skin. 
“O-oh yeah- that’s twenty-two- milk me- milk me, doll.” And it feels so good that it’s almost painful, stars bursting over and over behind his teary lids when his own seed sloshes a white gloss down every delicate ridge and vein of his. “Heheh- takin’ m-me so well-  jus’ one more right? We’re almost there-”
But he’s already lost count.
And Toji doesn’t care - he doesn’t even give a shit.
The way your puffy pussy lips were sucking up his cock was like a sheer miracle after the long, treacherous task of November. Tch- who even came up with such a thing as no nutting? Though, he couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t like the idea of December…
Yeah, he was going to fill his girl’s needy lil’ pussy with his cum again and again until he reaches his mark of twenty-three even if it kills him. And he could die a happy death right between these jittery legs of yours. 
You whine, grappling towards the thudding headboard that was now indenting your poor wall. You didn’t know how the hell he was still going. “B-but are you sure you can, baby? Don’t know if it’ll f-fit-”
“Oh- don’t speak so f-filthy ta me with that sweet mouth, ma.” 
“But Toji—”
Toji juts his scarred lips out in what you swear was almost a pout. He’s squeezing your delicate neck warningly, other hand pushing down on your tummy to make your sloppy entrance gush out in milky white dredges. Strangling out, “See? A-all you hafta ta do is shut up and take my fuckin’ cock- take my cum.” And he’s so lazy, all dripping with sweat and sheer sex when Toji slides his cheek down your own like an animal. “My pretty girl can ngh- d-do that f’me, right?”
It was so rare that you get to see the great Toji Fushiguro like this. 
So drunk on the power and the way he was kissing up French peck after peck against your g-spot that it makes you smile. “O-only if you hngh- beg.”
“Doll…”
“Beg.”
Truly, you imagined that Toji would roll his greedy green eyes- shit, were those tears in them? at you and simply snicker. 
What you didn’t expect was for him to grunt, before dragging you with the vice-like grip on your neck to meet his smacking sharp hips. Down, down, down- 
“Tch.” he’s grumbling, condensed breath feverish on your face. Sharp jaw clenching almost painfully - but not as painfully as the way his thick cock was swollen so rock-hard. Needy. Desperate. “M’begging you, ma- please l-let me cum- inside this cute cunt.”
You can only nod - nod and nod when his weepy tip plants pound after pound on your thoroughly bruised cervix. 
“Atta girl.”
And with a slight swat! from the rounded edges of his fat digits down onto your pulsing clit - you don’t know who’s cumming first. 
So hot and blissful. It’s like you were floating in heaven when Toji wrangles your body down flat onto the sheets and cums. Cumming and cumming yet- his utterly dazed eyes snap open, nothing was coming out.
“Shit-” Toji guides his free hand to wrap around his fat reddened base. Pumping up and down up and down up and- he half blacks out. “Fuck…c-completely ruined me, ma.” And the only thing that Toji can let loose is a few thick beads of his seed that dot your precious sweet spots. 
But he wasn’t having that.
In an instant, you’re being jostled with every ounce of strength in his large body. Straddling Toji’s slender hips, you’re collapsing to rub down his washboard abs. And he only grins, he only lolls his head drunkenly into the plush pillows. 
Overstimulated cock twitching ferally against your elastic walls as he still keeps cumming dry, he didn’t know if he could make it…“That- ngh- doesn’t count. So why dontcha ride me to t-twenty-three, doll?”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 16th Dec. 7:30PM
“Don’t run.” Nanami keens brokenly at the back of his throat. More. He needs more. “Please d-don’t run don’t run, my love-” 
And if it wasn’t for that velvety yellow tie binding his strong arms behind his back, they would be wrapping around your arched body so tight until you were sure your husband never wanted to let go. It’s all that Nanami can do to jump his thighs up higher to glissade your pretty pussy down his girthy shaft.
You’re whining out a little, “C-can’t help it, Kento- you’re jus’ filling me up so much-”
God, the ever-sensible Nanami Kento was so ruined by now. 
So utterly pussydrunk that even the mere sound of your honeyed tone complimenting him is enough to have him rutting his flushed cockhead to nudge deeper and deeper into your gooey walls. You were riding him so languidly, spreading open your insides on just the curve. 
More more more more-
“D-don’t say that—” he all but cries in a deep whine over the syrupy squelch after smooching squelch. Sweat-slicked face pushing into the tender crook of your neck, “-I m-might cum from jus’ that, darling. S’wasted- n-need to fuck a baby into ya, remember?”
With a drunkenly smug daze smeared across your face, you’re cushioning your hands all over his heaving chest. Muscled. Rugged. Peaking your trembly fingers across his bulging pecs, “That would be the ngh- sixteenth time, right, Ken? And in your office, too- so dirty~”
It was so fun to tease your dear Nanami.
To watch his drooping glasses fog up with heady condensation, to watch his high cheekbones blush into something innocently rosy. Stern mouth slack with awe when you glide the fat of your thumb across its corner to swipe away his translucent trail of overstimulated drool. 
Sensitive. Shit, so sensitive.
And you’re hearing miniscule rips! when he pulls against the tie - the only thing keeping Nanami from tattering it into a million pieces was your wish to tie your handsome husband up.
“B-but how could I not?” he hisses, genuinely floored. You feel yourself be bounced through the sheer strength in his toned core. Atoms stand on end with jujutsu - his technique. Your g-spot is battered. Up and down up and down up and- “Y-you’re just so perfect n’ pretty ngh- a-and oh I can’t stay away from this pretty cunt–”
Nanami’s head lolls pussydrunkenly with every squelching shove into your tight channel. He’s opening up every sweet nook and cranny inside you, mashing into that magical spot. 
“My pretty girl- gonna make such a pretty momma. Y-you just feel so oh-” Words are failing him. And with a shuddering gulp he dares look down at the way your cunt was drenching him in milky wave after wave of cum. Breeding you. Breathing out, “-this might jus’ be heaven.”
And heaven it was.
“Aw, you’re so ngh- sweet, Ken– s’this from how long ya had to wait in November?” He’s so pretty. Your fingers caress over the big, fat tears welling their way up in his half-lidded eyes. Planting a salty peck against his wobbly lips, “Love you–”
“I love you, too-” Nanami breathes - he whimpers. “Love you love you love you- ngh- m’never participating in that goddamn No Nut November again. S-sixteen’s not ‘nough- s’never gonna e-enough-”
And Nanami didn’t even know if he could make it to sixteen.
Because his hefty balls were jostling against your ass so harshly, every press of your ass down his tight, cum-filled sack making him spurt out a few wispy sputters of cum. Sloshing your cozy insides- But it didn’t count - no, it didn’t count unless he had you overspilling. 
“O-overspilling?” you giggle- shit, did he say that out loud? “Ken- are you ser-”
SLAM!
Desperation bleeds into his movement. Into his breaths. Into every single stroke of his sloppy cock when Nanami wrenches his hands free from the restraint in a split-second. 
A single split-second is all it takes for him to bully your pliant body down on his desk in one, fluid motion.
In control now.
Well, as in control as he could be when he was fucking losing it.
The desk rattles with every pound he’s gifting your poor, battered g-spot. Over and over- shit, it was so scarily accurate that it left you reeling about whether Nanami was using his ratio technique - did he even realize. 
Slam! 
Nanami’s arm shudders down onto the rustling papers that he definitely should’ve been working on instead. And you bolt at the sudden cinch of atoms - yeah, definitely his technique. “M’serious- ngh oh- I’ve never been more serious in m’life, my love-” Hunching over now, you could admire the way his back muscles popped and flexed with every rough jackhammer. 
“So pretty and-” Words choking into tiny moans at the back of his throat, “-and mine.”
As soon as Nanami’s thick digits pop into his mouth, you feel his overwhelmed cock strike up a few electric jolts before cumming. Hot shaft swelling and throbbing with his pumping pulse, fucking your snug cunt full of syrupy oozes of cum. Your poor sweet spots - over and over, powers out of control. 
And so was Nanami.
Eyeing the creamy globs spittling down the side of your slit, he’s smearing open your swollen pussy folds with a few thick fingers, making you flinch at the cool touch of his wedding ring.  Greedily scooping them up into his mouth to spit. Right onto your very tastebuds, before dragging you into a filthy, filthy mess of a kiss. 
“Ngh- gonna marry ya- have all round and glowing.” he’s panting against your open mouth. “Gonna- sh-shit gonna make you my wife-”
You’re letting off a few sweet moans every time he’s clashing wetly against your-spot. “I am your wife, Kento-”
Five words. 
Only five words does it take for Nanami to halt in his tracks. For him to strain out a crazed, “E-even better…”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 11th Dec. 2:28AM
“What was that?”
“Suguru-”
He’s shutting you up promptly with a swift smack! right onto the edge of your plump clit, fingers lingering to smear over those excess dredges of cum from just before. 
They have you weakening on all fours. 
They have you making such a fucking mess. 
And you hear Geto shudder in a shrill breath at the sight of your drooling cunt dripping all down his wrist, you hear him clear his rasping throat of a few traitorous whimpers. Oh, it takes everything in him to pretend he wasn’t as fucking ruined as he was. “Letting it drip a-all out of your slutty pussy, d-didn’t I tell ya to ngh- take all eleven, gorgeous?” 
It’s a trick question.. 
And Geto isn’t waiting for an answer, Geto can barely even hear you through the thundering of his own furious pulse in his ears. Ringing and making him so dizzy- 
With one hand kneading down on the arch of your back, his hips pummel into you thoroughly, shoving your squirming hips back down onto the silken sheets. Rotund, pinkish head feeding into all your sweetest spots without even trying.
“Mhmmm–” he’s letting his head loll back to swipe a few greedy digits over the creamy ring at his hilt - plugging them easily back into your overly stuffed pussy. Slender and swirling all around the outer edges of his fat cock. With the other he pretends to count, “-nine, ten eleven- sure did. S-so that ah- eleventh one didn’t count, riiiight?”
And you just about only have the strength to gasp, “D-doesn’t count?”
“Nuh uh, doesn’t count.”
Thwacking a stinging smack! right onto the jiggling flesh of your ass, Geto only pushes and pushes and reels out peak after peak of white-hot pleasure with every pound. Grinning when your slack-jawed lips gasp in lewd awe to mewl, “Th-then- ah! I w-want it all in this time. No teasing, Sugu–”
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit - he really underestimated how much a lil’ minx his girl was.
Because that makes Geto let out a heavy gasp, it makes his dewey deep eyes pop out almost dramatically. Sweeping one hand through his long, curtaining bangs to get a better scope of your jittery body. All splayed out and so prettily fucked underneath him.
Beautiful. So, so beautiful and- oh, he was more drunk on your pussy than he thought. 
“Oh, p-pretty girl–” His lips smear up your sweat-glistening spine in a trail of kisses. Up, up, up to press a saccharine sweet peck onto your cheek. “Heh, how could I not?”
And you swear Geto’s melodic voice cracked into something desperate at the end -almost as if it was…a whine.
But you don’t get to confirm, not before with a rippling thud! you’re feeling something heavy rest itself on your head. Whirling your bleary eyes as much as you could to take in what was Geto’s foot - so rudely positioned upon your body to shovel himself even deeper into your plushy cunt.
It felt too damn good.
And, fuck, Geto was angry at himself for the way he was letting big, overstimulated tears well up in his eyes with every pretty peck into your sopping wet cervix. Fucking you like an animal. With every wet swipe right at the bottom of your cunt- 
“S-Sugu-” you’re babbling out, heart stuttering at the feeling of something wet drizzling down heatedly onto your shoulder. “Are you cry-”
“No.”
Yes.
Because Geto was so sensitive. So stimulated. Every sodden crash into your tight pussy had stars bursting behind Geto’s eyes, throat ragged raw with a sudden keen. “M-m’not cryin’ s’just- fuuuck- yer a real troublemaker, aren’t ya?” 
It takes a few sloppy seconds before you realize with a jolt that Geto isn’t talking to you - no, he had his flaming eyes downturned to look at your bulging cunt. To salivate over the way your puffy folds were greedily drenching all his staggering inches. 
And he’s talking to her, nodding all to every honeyed squelch! that makes your ears burn.
“Right right–” Geto cups one of you jiggling tits with his massive palms. Kneading. Squeezing. “-sh-she is gorgeous-” Pressing a too-sweet smooch by your sweat-dampened forehead, “-my gorgeous girl…hehh- you knew what would oh- h-happen when you told me about this challenge, right?”
“Know what, Suguru?” you’re batting your lashes up at him in a way that makes him grit through a shudder. Evil, evil tricks you had. 
But whatever you could do - Geto Suguru could, too, ten times worse. 
Which is why he’s slamming into you so fast that you’re finding yourself almost thrown into the jittering headboard. Bolting fast. Hard. 
Curling a few fingers around your neck to bounce you back into his sharp hipbones, “Where do you think you’re r-running away? Don’t run away–”
You weren’t. 
But Geto sounded so genuinely upset, so genuinely in disbelief. His cheeks hollowing when he sucks in a sudden breath and rummages at your melty insides so good. Planting tiny pinches to your clit like it was going to make you forget the pearly, splattering tears into your shoulder. Yet, with the way that Geto was fucking you positively stupid then you think you just might. 
Geto’s curling his deft fingers inside to sneak across your sweetened spots, around and around before swiping the remnant dredges of cum across his pre-glossed lips. 
“K-kiss me, gorgeous.” He tastes like honey. Hot. Voice practically a roughened growl at this point. “G-gonna take it all, aren’t ya? Gonna fill this pretty p-pussy up with my cum- ngh- gonna have it s-so everyone knows what I did- ah- so they know-”
And no matter how composed Geto pretended to be - you could hear the tiny whimpers curling at the back of his throat, the grumbling ah! ah! ah! at every thrust. 
He’s babbling, drunken and you don’t even think he remembers a thing about the challenge anymore. “M’gonna get ya pregnant, doll…”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 8th Dec. 6:45PM
“B-baby-” Choso’s voice is so warm - so broken. Sobbing. He’s gifting your ankle with an innocent peck, “Baby let me s-see your pretty face- p-please look my way–”
“M’already here…” With a slightly syrupy giggle you press a gentle kiss against Choso’s sweat-streaked forehead. “Let it out- let it alll out, Cho-”
That forgotten movie plays over and over in the background when with a flinching shudder, Choso cums. Wrangling your limp body to him so tight that you’re feeling every tiny flex of his washboard abs, every sweaty glissade of his muscular thighs kneeing apart yours. 
“O-oh–” Choso hisses out the tiniest of whimpers against your skin with every splat! of cozy rivers of cum down your snug cunt. “M-move that pretty hand- move it for me-”
Gently shoving away the overwhelmed hand on your bulging cunt, he’s pulling out his achy cock from your entrance. Making such a mess on your poor couch. “Oh.”
And Choso doesn’t say anything more - not a word. 
He can’t.
Not even a peep while he’s fixating his widened eyes down on the way your inner thighs were drooling all over with waves of his own cum. So full. And he gulps. 
You’re running your fingers through his silky soft strands, “All done, baby?”
And Choso only jolts his entire muscular body on top of you as if the thought never even crossed his mind. Sheer panic bleeding into those pussy drunken eyes of his when they widen and bore down into yours, “A-actually that’s not- ngh- that’s-”
Shit, he couldn’t even explain himself right now. Because Choso didn’t have to say anything - he was already moving.
Head throwing back when his hips push back downwards in a wet little grind - experimental. Just the singular clench of your elastic walls around his length in a perfectly cozy hug makes him throw his head back with a whimper. So sensitive. “I’m sorry, baby I- I can’t stop.”
It didn’t matter what day it was today. It didn’t matter exactly how many times Choso had pumped your pretty pussy full of his voluminous cum. Because it was never enough. 
Never will be enough.
He was too addicted to the way his own warm cum was sloshing around your gooey insides, making such a filthy slurping gloss that practically speaks to him. Your pussy was extra talkative today, slurring out the most saturated squelches! whenever he’s diving his fat cockhead past your entrance. 
“Wh-what is it? The ngh- eight?” Meshing a wet kiss over and over that magical g-spot - just the way he was with your pouty mouth. Lips wobbling as he begs, “I-I can c-cum inside again, right, baby? P-please–? Look I’ll even make room-”
And before you can utter a word, your dear, sweet boyfriend was plunging out. Accompanied by a few sopping wet slurps of his seed that waterfall freely and drizzle down his furiously reddened length. 
Choso bites his lip at the heavenly sight, holding back a grin that curls down the sides of his rosy red mouth. Oh, this was so not just about “making room.”
Something that makes you hum, “Well then-” And as soon as you’re smearing your legs open even wider, Choso gapes. Urgently pressing a thumb over his weepy divot to keep himself from cumming all over again. “-wontcha be a hngh good boy f’me, then?”
Choso nods - nods over and over when he fucks back through your gummy hole. Nods with every drawling babble that leaves his mouth, “G-gonna be your good boy, baby- gonna cum inside- gonna let me, right? Promise I’ll m-make it to eight-”
Not to mind the fact that he already had. 
But he doesn’t care. Not a single ounce when your inflated walls were molding around him this way - like you were made for him.
“R-right here–” He’s trailing up the rounded curve of one thick index about halfway down your tummy, pressing down on the slight swollen nudge of where he could feel himself absolutely wrecking you. Wrecking himself. “-gonna be f-finishing the challenge riiiight here.”
“Yes yes yes-” you whine, hips bucking up to catch onto his sloppy cadence. It almost hurts just how hard he was fucking into you - dragging rawly all over your cunt, no sweetened spot left unbruised. “-cum inside- cum in me, Cho–”
“F-fuck-”
It’s a tiny whimper - broken. So utterly fucked-out when Choso crashes his lips onto your battered ones and sucks. 
And you think Choso is cumming - you feel Choso cumming. His hulking boy hunches, his strong arms bend you to his lewd will so hard you think you hear your joint creak. Positioning in the perfect angle to flood your insides with heap after sloshing heap of cum.
Once. Twice. 
Multiple orgasms clashing into each other before it tapers out into nothing and you’re feeling Choso’s bawling divot at the very ends of his tip cum dry. 
Only a few seconds later do you realize that those wet speckles crashing heatedly onto your cheeks are tears. And even later do you realize that Choso’s latched his rough fingers onto your overwhelmed clit to pinch. Rolling it so harshly that your fatigued body has no choice but to crash headfirst into your own orgasm.
Your nails draw red, red lines all the way down his pale, sculpted back. Honestly, Choso was so mean when he wanted to be. 
“Y-yeah? K-kiss gimme a kiss, baby–” He’s peeking up at you with practically gleaming eyes - and the syrupy sweet love swirling around was palpable. “Am I a good boy- ngh- d-does it feel good, baby–?”
And you can only nod right about now. Feeling so full inside that it was like his sickly sweet cum was barging into your womb. You gasp when his thickened cock slips out ever-so-slightly from your entrance, gumming out a wet trail of cum. Making Choso snap his head down and-
“Oh.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 28th Dec. 12:01AM
“Sooo…” Sukuna grumbles his hot breath to condense in a feverish puff against the side of your ear in such a mean full nelson. He’s practically laughing at you - chuckling in a drunkenly delirious way. “Think that lil’ human body of yours can give me a hah- twenty-eighth today?”
Hell, you didn’t think it was even possible to withstand such a stretch of his doubly swollen girths jostling around your snug channel. You didn’t think it was possible to last this long-
You’re baring him with a pretty, pretty pout that makes him tunnel his long hard cocks into you even harder. Faster. “O-of course I can-”
Heh…cute. Sukuna didn’t bother telling your proud self that it’d been the reversed curse technique that still kept your drooling cunt so needy without breaking a few bones. Yet. 
“Well, that mouth of yours says ya can- but this pretty pussy…” Trailing off, sharpened black nails trace over your cunt and make you shiver. As if that wasn’t enough - as if the squelching slurps emanating from where your cunt was being so tightly split-apart wasn’t enough - Sukuna manifests his second mouth on a smaller scale to give your pretty clit a long French kiss. “-she’s fuckin’ bratty, isn’t she?”
And he’s planting a staggering smack right onto the neglected bud of your clit. Swiping his heated tongue around and around in such a way that makes you buck-
Swat!
“Oi- keep that cunt still f’me or else…” Now, Sukuna didn’t have to try to ever sound threatening - but then again he never had to bite back such pathetic whimpers from the back of his throat. He never had to hold in his tired whines when your gummy walls stretch so rawly around his cocks. So unfairly good. “O-or else…fuuuck.”
You whirl your dazed eyes around with a sudden gasp - did Ryomen Sukuna stutter? It has you babbling out a stupid, “Kuna, d-did you just-”
Like hell he would let his pretty queen see him like that. 
And without warning - without even a single symptom that he heard your question - Sukuna stands up right onto his muscular feet. 
You’re being slapped with a heavy crash of his dripping wet heads against your bulbous g-spot. Gravity taking its lewd advantage to slide you down, down, down his throbbing lengths until you were scratching up against the wild tufts of pink under Sukuna’s toned abs. Massaged up and down by his muscles - such an obvious show of strength for the king. 
He has you splayed out shamefully - with your legs hooked underneath two of his strong forearms, completely weightless. The other two interlocking on top of your head to have you swallowing every single one of his solid inches. Filthy. 
Sukuna smirks at the translucent rivulets of slick that gloss down his disappearing lengths, “Wh-what- ahem- what were you sayin’, woman? Sorry- ya got a little-” Pounding up even harder. “-loud.”
“I-I don’t-” you’re mewling out, wincing at the rough drag of his second - much larger - tongue craning across your forgotten clit. “-don’ remember, Kuna–”
Of course. 
“Don’t remember?” Sukuna seethes - deep baritone a few octaves higher than usual, words dripping with such utter mocking. “Now h-how will we get to twenty-eight if you can’t even ah- think, brat?”
Nevermind the fact that he couldn’t either. Couldn’t even breathe if he didn’t want to drag out rasping ahs! from his throat. So fucking stimulated that he feels his lips tremble, and can hear his other fucking mouth snicker. Snicker. 
“Tch- open that pretty mouth f’me.”
You barely have a second thought as you do - all so perfect for Sukuna to bless your tongue with a thick wad of his saliva. Honeyed and dripping down your throat.
You’re looking right into his devilishly red eyes as you swallow. “Wan’ more, Kuna–”
“More…” Sukuna breathes out. Small. Broken. More to himself than anything. And he can’t believe it - can’t even compute how the hell he ever got so lucky. Not before chuckling in such a dark and humorless way that makes your sopping pussy even more drenched. “More more more more- hah! I’ll give ya more- She wants more- ya hear that?”
Sukuna’s leering his sleazy gaze allll the way down to your headily dribbling cunt and talking. In utter disbelief - he’s seeing stars right behind his eyes with every raw rub your gripping walls onto his cocks, with every glissading massage against each other. It was such a tight fit. 
“Y-you’re so ngh- gone-” you’re bumbling out boldly. 
“So fuckin’ what-” he’s sneering. “H-honestly- fuckin- let that pretty cunt of yours speak, woman- she’s nicer.”
Syrupy wet slurps following with every crash of his wet tip against your sweet spots. Every languid lick down your presoaked slit, his mouth was everywhere now. Out of control. 
And like he was urging your pussy louder, whispering out a rasping c’mon c’mon c’mon every time he’s pummeling you like he hates you. Twenty eight? Twenty eight Sukuna’s ass, he was going to make your poor pussy cum hard enough for the entire month combined. 
So when you do - that’s exactly how you feel.
Your entire body thrashes in Sukuna’s unforgiving hold. Whining. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes, it just felt too good. In the thundering distance somewhere, you hear someone whimper - not you. Sukuna.
His mouth parting into a barely-lucid oh! when his rummaging cocks suddenly burst out in such honeyed trickles of cum. And Sukuna came a lot - he always did - but this was ridiculous. 
You could feel the hefty weight of his lengths double as he floods your bruised and battered insides with swirling swivels of cum. Sloshing around to stick to your inner walls like a second skin with every fuck up deeper and deeper-
“B-brat.” Sukuna whines. Whines. You don’t know what’s more shocking - that or the glassy tears collecting in his eyes. “Such a merciless queen you’d be…”
♡ GOJO SATORU - 31st Dec. 4:44AM
“Please-” And no one can ever say they’ve had the privilege of hearing the great Gojo Satoru beg before. No one can ever say they’ve known the feeling of his hot tears splat! splat! splat! against your shoulder like a slight drizzle. Whimpering, “-please we’re almost- almost there…”
He has you splayed out on your side on that decadent king-sized bed of his, massive palms sliding up and down your shaky thighs to perk them up for him to feed his cock right between them. Over and over and-
“I-I think I c-can feel it coming-” Gojo’s sputtering out, and at this point his rugged thrusts are barely even that. Slow, slurring grinds of his toned hips that make you squeal. “Think I can- ohhh fuck- I think m’gonna cum again, s-sweetheart.”
It’s just about all you can do to clear your shot throat, rasping out a whiny. “C-cum inside, Toru– wan’ it all oh-” 
And of course when Gojo cums, he’s not going to cum alone. Of course, when he’s nearing his dangerous peak - tipping over practically - he’s giving your plump clit a sudden thwack! with his fingertips. Long, and coated in buzzing cursed energy to make you see stars. 
“Heheh- yer cummin’ again–” he’s crooning in a feverish pitch into your ear. “Such a naughty cunt- h-how are you still creaming all over my hah- cock, darlin’?” Fucking giggling - oh, and for all Gojo’s big mouth he doesn’t even realize that he’s cumming too. 
Bolts of tiny blue lightning peaking at the corners of his eyes, fingertips flashing with the pressure of atoms - and you’re sure that if the bedroom lights hadn’t already shattered many, many orgasms ago then they would have right now.
It takes you a few seconds to regain the feeling in your legs - it takes Gojo a few seconds to realize that he’s cumming dry. Slowly swirling around his fat head in little swipes down your tenderized sweet spots, hips picking up the tempo more. And more. And more and more like he was furious - like he was fuming at the lack of sloshing wads of cum that stream into your gooey depths. 
Fuck.
“O-oh- you’ve broken me-” he’s whining, running those electrified hands up and down your body. Before finally resting on your hardened nipples and pinching. “-look what you’ve- shit- I can’t- I need to. Honey, I need it-”
Shit, he sounded so desperate.
And his movements were just as needy. Teleporting - yeah, not even pulling out for a mere millisecond, he couldn’t even stand the thought - to loom above your body. Flipping you onto your back, his biceps bulge at the fatigue when Gojo’s veering your legs to dangle around his neck.
“A mating press?” you mewl, the burn so merciless. 
But Gojo doesn’t answer- shit, can he even hear you right now? Only gruffing out a rough, “Lock your ankles.” 
You’ve barely even moved to do as your thoroughly pussydrunken husband had said before he’s plugging every spare inch into your cunt so full. Starting off with tiny, lazy gyrations before building up and up and-
“T-Toru–” you sputter out, syrupy voice so sweet that it makes Gojo kiss away your pout in a sodden drag of his rosy lip. And his eyes droop dangerously closed when your clingy walls clutch around him so tight. “Wh-what’s gotten into you- what has you like…”
This.
So feral.
Barely even human at this point.
After pathetically failing at No Nut November, the strongest was determined to complete this month’s challenge. Even it kills him.
Gojo was fucking you so hard into the bed that you’re noticing one side of it had utterly splintered and sagged. And a particularly hard mash of his swollen, red tip into your bouncy cervix makes him slam! one overwhelmed palm down beside your head. In your peripheral vision, you notice that your silky bedsheets had a palm print burnt into it.
“What h-has me like this?” he’s echoing your words like he’s just now heard them. “What has me like this- hahah! What else do you think…” Pressing down onto your inflationary bulge hard so that all voluminous dumps of his cum seeps right through your leaky slit. Gojo’s running a thumb down your teary cunt and plugging it right into your mouth. “Suck. Wh-what do you oh-”
You don’t even give him the sanity to finish his sentence, wrapping those pretty kiss-bitten lips of yours to give his thick thumb a thorough French kiss. You’re tasting him - tasting yourself. 
And the sight is enough for Gojo to let his head fall into your neck and cum. 
“This time-” Gojo’s rasping under his breath, muscular hips jamming into yours again. Fucking his furiously twitchy cock up into your forbidden areas. “This time.” And again. And again and again until the pale, sweat-slicked skin at his abs were rubbed red. “This time- this time- this time this time- fuck no–”
But it’s no use.
No matter how much Gojo’s ramming his weepy length down your snug walls, he was simply cumming dry. Keening at the familiar gloss of oozy cum that dredge their way down his coral pink shaft.
You brush away the drenched locks of snowy white from his pretty features - scrunched and on the verge of sobbing when you’re rutting your hips up tiredly to bounce against his. The mating press was so sloppy that it had your joints popping - ones that your husband immediately rubs over with reversed curse technique. Mumbling, “S’okay, Toru- you lasted this whole ah- month. You don’t need to-”
“-no no no but I need it.” he’s cutting you off. Swirling a few greedy fingers over your clit, “I need it- need it so bad b-because this Christmas…” Momentarily in awe at the way you were so sweetly holding him, so sweetly gulping up every one of his staggering inches. ”-I want a baby.”
Maybe you’re cumming - maybe Gojo is cumming. Maybe both.
You’re not even sure at this point, because despite being broken into a million different shards, the overhead lights flicker on and off. And what you feel is a wisping splatter of his seed drenching the very gooey bottom of yout cunt. Finally. 
Gojo’s orgasm coming out in waves up and down - your own nothing but a tight tingle. He’s dragging his cock to fuck out pearly beads of something delicious. More. More and more- “O-oh no…was that thirty one- hngh- were you keeping count, sweetheart?”
“...”
He has the audacity to grin - all pearly white teeth and glistening trail of drool on display. Big, fat tears rolling down his pretty eyes, “O-one more to make sure?”
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A/N. I love making men cry.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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