#Newest Gifts for All Ages
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lynxcreations · 8 months ago
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“ETERNAL OPTIMISTS ARE BORN IN SPRING!” – JUST FUN T-SHIRTS
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reiderwriter · 11 months ago
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Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?
A/N: Thank you for your request! I've been very much feeling post-Prison/ later seasons Spencer recently, so I hope you enjoy this fic!
Warnings: mostly fluff, implied age-gap, slight mentor/mentee dynamic.
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Your first year in the BAU would've been tough had it not been for Doctor Spencer Reid.
It was tough still, but without him, you don't think you'd have been able to handle much of it. He'd been your mentor through each case, taking you under his wing when he wasn't on academic leave, teaching his criminology courses at the FBI Academy.
Those weeks were the hardest, and you found yourself moping about in the office, texting him once or twice a trip for advice.
On one particularly hard case, he'd come back into the office after you'd text. Not to consult on the case, but just to drop you off a chamomile tea and a pastry to brighten your day that little bit.
When he was back, your days were great. He knew so much, and you learnt so much from him so quickly, eagerly consuming his every word. You were so eager to please him that you often forgot others around the two of you.
“Spencer, if you're done fawning after Y/N we have a case to work on,” Emily gently chastised the man as he pulled out your chair for you, ready to sit down to hear the details of your next crime.
“Oh, Emily, thank you, but it's okay. Doctor Reid was just being considerate, I'm sure he'd have done it for anyone.” The shared glances around the room were filled with glib secrecy, but no-one commented further, leaving you slightly baffled.
Those shared looks between the other members of your team had become more common as of late, with each one more worrisome than the next. There was something unsettling about being the only one out of the loop, and as the newest member of the team, and the youngest, it often felt disheartening.
“Y/N, don't worry. Being the youngest member of any team is tough, but you're smart and you're holding your own.” With a pat to your head he walked away, lifting the weight off your shoulders slightly but not fully. You needed to get to the bottom of the BAU's non-verbal communications, and you needed answers.
Your first technique was interrogation. Surely one of them would break and tell you if you laid out your thoughts and feelings clearly.
Surely not, you found, as each member casually and softly blew you off.
“Y/N, you just need to think carefully about how certain members of the team act towards you. How familiar they are. How overly familiar they are.” Tara had at least told you that much, bit it had left you just as confused as the radio silence from the others.
“Everyone has behaved very professionally with me. You've all been very welcoming up to this point, which I appreciate greatly.”
“I wouldn't count gifting you flowers for your first successful case as the most professional act, Y/N,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “But I suppose that is just up to interpretation.
Doctor Reid had sent you flowers after you finished your first case. But there had been extenuating circumstances in that case. You'd both worked on the geographical profile on that case, and together had figured out the species of flower the unsub was using was only cultivated on one local flower orchard. It had cracked the case open and you'd found your unsub hours later.
So the flowers were an extension of that small joint success. That was all.
Your second attempt at figuring out what was going on was observation.
Partially taking Tara’s advice, you tried your best to track the moments when each of the weary looks would come your way.
Overwhelmingly, they seemed to be directed towards Doctor Reid whenever the two of you interacted.
You had to gently inform him of this, before it interrupted both of your abilities to work.
“Doctor Reid, do you know why Emily and Rossi are both currently watching us from between the blinds in their offices?” You whispered to the man, leaning in close to his ear. You were quite sure he didn't know, but a question seemed as good a way as any to broach the topic.
“I do, yes. It's best if you ignore them.”
His nonchalance in the matter shocked you, so sure you were that this would be news to him. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.
“Why are they staring at us?” You finally managed to force the words out in a small squeak, forcing his eyes back to yours.
“Don't worry about it for now, I'll handle it.” He smiled down as you, and the bright gesture washed away more of the tension you'd been feeling in the office. You smiled back at him as he rose from his desk chair and carried himself to the stairs. You giggled when he winked down at you, just as you noticed Emily frantically hurrying away from her office window as Spencer knocked on her door.
As much as he told you to not worry about it all though, you really couldn't help yourself. You found yourself growing more clumsy under the watchful eyes of your entire team, galling more times than you'd care to admit into Doctor Reid's arms. He always caught you, though, and you were thankful you never did yourself serious injury.
You finally got the answers you'd craved out on a case about a month into your struggles.
There was something slightly unsettling about the way the female Sheriff was paying attention to Doctor Reid, and it made you uncomfortable. Your mouth ran dry when she touched his arm, but a small part of you warmed up again when he shrugged her off. Until, at least, you heard him explain why.
“I'm sorry, I'm a germophobe, so I'd really prefer you not touch me.” His voice was calm and steady; it really didn't seem like he was lying.
“You're not pulling my leg? I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but-”
“Why would I pull your leg, I said I don't like physical touch?”
“Well, there was that young girl earlier, Y/N was it? You had your hand on her back as you walked in, so I didn't think…”
The woman had made a good point, and you crept closer to the edge of the door to hear Doctor Reid - Spencer's response.
“Sheriff, if we're done here, do you think I could get back to my job?” You were almost disappointed in the change of topic, but you weren't all that sad to see the Sheriff remove herself from the room. Slipping in behind her you decided to test the new theory that had slipped into your mind in the last minutes.
You called out to him to grab his attention as you walked into the room but before he had the chance to turn and greet you, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your body down against his, enveloping him in a back hug.
It was quite possibly the most familiar position you'd been in with him, but really it wasn't all that different from your usual proximity.
Unlike when the Sheriff casually brushed against him, he didn't stiffen, didn't pull away, but instead melted into your touch, looking up at you with a large grin.
You stood shocked for a minute before grinning back.
“Spencer, I think I know why everyone has been watching us for the last few weeks.” You said, causing his eyes to panic slightly as he acknowledged your words.
“The, uh, the Sheriff was just in here talking about a development either some of the DNA test results-” He desperately tried to change the subject, but you were locked in now, spinning his chair around to face you more as you came eye-to-eye with him.
“I know why the Sheriff was in here, Spencer, I heard it all.”
“It's not what you think,” you paused for a moment as your brow furrowed, trying to figure out if you'd somehow caught the wrong end of the stick.
“So our coworkers haven't been waiting for you to ask me out, having noticed large changes in your body language and attitude around me?”
“It's….exactly as you think.” His face was flushed with pink and your heart skipped a beat at the man in front of you. But you still had some questions.
“And you knew, but you didn't say anything to me despite the fact that I bought it up multiple times?”
“I'm…I'm not good with words," he frowned
“Are you good with dates?”
“Excuse me?”
“You're going to take me on a date when we get back to Quantico. After giving it some thought, Doctor Reid, it seems I've become quite enamoured of you.” You dropped into his lap then, sitting there like a cat pleased to take up residence on its owners legs. He stuttered for a few seconds but then found his voice again, face lighting up.
“Spencer. Please, Y/N, call me Spencer.”
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luminiamore · 5 months ago
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EX WHO?
ex husband eren yeager x black fem reader
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warnings: reader may have gotten pregnant again (she definitely did), ur daughters name is raqi
pt. 2
moodboard
masterlist
“Sweetheart, please let me put your shoes on so I can bring you to your daddy.” You try to tell your gorgeous four-year-old for the fifth time in one minute.
“No, mama! Daddy says he’s coming here because he misses you.”
You observe as she escapes your grasp again after kicking her tiny feet in different directions. You groan both inside and out loud because you have to repeat, “No, he’s not Raqi.” Mommy needs the house to herself tonight-”
“Uhuh, and Uncle Connie is coming too! He’s taking me to, um-Nick- um-” You watch as she looks at you, waiting for you to help her finish her sentence.
You stifle a giggle at her pout, “Nickelodeon?”
“Yeah!! It’s in Spain, mama!”
You heave a sigh once more. It’s not uncommon for Connie to take your daughter on expensive trips such as this. He probably indulged your daughter more than you did. Not more than Eren, though. Even though Eren didn’t live with you, he made sure to come by and see his baby girl every day, even if it was just for five minutes. Each time he came, he would have a new gift in his hand.
Connie gave your daughter gifts like trips, taking her around the world, and first-class only reserved for the princess. As she ages, she definitely won’t be impressed by someone’s son taking her to Miami.
However, Eren spoiled his girl with jewelry, bags, the newest edition of Hello Kitty plushies, and anything else. To be honest, you need to begin the process of finding her a larger room.
You’re not so sure your daughter is lying. It’s unlikely that she would lie about something like this. Your frustration has changed from being directed toward her to your ex-husband for not informing you. This was actually one of the reasons why you guys split up. He would always make plans and decisions regarding your daughter without letting you know first.
Although he didn’t make any bad decisions or put her in danger, it’s upsetting to know that you rarely had any say in what your daughter did, except for the things she wore.
You remember vividly handing him the divorce papers and standing in front of him in shock as he laughed right in your face with mumbles of, ‘Must be crazy’ and ‘Never in a million years.’
And so the divorce was never finalized because he refused to sign the papers, but you and he were through as far as you were concerned. He had no problem letting you run around thinking that, though. It goes without saying that he never took off his wedding ring. Yours has been on for so long that it’s like muscle memory to slip it on every time you go out.
To this day, his Instagram page is filled with pictures of you and only you. Shit, both of your parents still invite you guys over for dinner, and Eren never told them what you presented him with. You absolutely didn’t have the guts to tell them unless he signed those papers.
You didn’t have the guts to prevent your daughter from having a good time and living out her childhood, a chance you, unfortunately, weren’t blessed with.
“Okay, baby. Well, you still have to put your shoes on if you wanna go with Uncle Connie, okay?”
That seemed to do it. Your daughter headed to her bed and began bouncing up and down with joy before finally settling down and waiting for you to put them on.
Just as you were finishing, you heard the doorbell ring. You rise to your feet and fix your silk robe and matching silk bonnet. Kissing your daughter’s head and lifting her up in your arms, you walk barefoot on the cold tile floors of your penthouse— that Eren pays for.
It’s no surprise when you open the door and find the men of the hour. They were matching. Your ex-spouse appears in all his splendor, sporting a gray beanie that conceals his natural hair, a black hoodie, and black sweatpants that match. Connie’s attire was the opposite: a black beanie covering his buzz cut, a grey hoodie, and grey sweatpants that matched.
“Daddy!”
“Baby!”
Your daughter is quick to jump onto her father, and Eren easily catches her. It’s almost impossible to deny how similar they look. It’s as if she left you out of the gene pool altogether. All his facial features were present in her, including his curls, eyes, and face. Her skin color was the only thing you could vouch for.
Eren catches your eyes, and you look away quickly. His stare always gives you an intimidating feeling. You disregard his glance and turn to Connie with a smile, kissing him on his cheek and leading him inside, “Hey, Con.”
He reciprocates the gesture, albeit with a friendly tone. He was aware of how possessive his best friend can be towards you, and he didn’t want to be a part of that today. After playing with your daughter’s flushed cheek, you turn around and leave Eren outside, letting him invite himself in. Your hostility causes him to furrow his brows.
“What, I don’t get a kiss too?”
While still ignoring him, you direct your buzz-cut friend to your child’s room. “There should be a bag already packed with her things in her closet. I know how much you guys love these trips.”
Connie grins and nods. Your daughter demands that Eren put her down and runs after him, yelling that she wants to show him her new plushies. Now, there were only you and Eren in your living room, alone. Great.
It was impossible for you to function when it was just you and him. Eren’s presence always made you nervous and hot. No matter who was present, he always made his attraction to you known. Your daughter thought you were still together for that reason. Eren Yeager was an elusive figure. He was a force to be reckoned with. The feelings you have for him are still harboring, even though you tried to push them away.
They persist, and it doesn’t seem like you made any effort to remove them. You have been separated for a few months now, but you have never attempted to move on. Whenever your friends asked why you never went on a date, you would always answer that you’re ‘just not ready.’ You never actually moved on from him.
Your friends knew it was bullshit, but you would never admit it. You wouldn’t admit to missing him, missing him holding you, sleeping with you, fucking you. You went from getting your fat cunt stuffed every day to only cumming once a week due to a vibrator going high speeds on your clit. Eren knew you weren’t stupid enough to give his pussy away. You knew you weren’t stupid enough to give his pussy away.
Eren, of course, would never move on from you, either. He genuinely doesn’t believe that you two are separated, as you’re still together in his mind. You will be his forever.
He slowly stalks towards you, watching you intently focus on the wall. You probably hoped he would disappear if you didn’t pay him any mind. He knew how your mind worked.
“M’still waiting on my kiss, mama.” He raises your chin towards him when he reaches you, and his green eyes don’t skip over the little bra you had on beneath your lace robe.
“Eren, move.” You glare at him, but it really isn’t doing much but making him hard.
“Wassup with you?”
“You! You are ‘wassup’ with me.” You whisper so as not to alert Connie and your daughter in the next room. You try to match his tone, lowering yours in pitch.
“What did I do, baby?” His deep voice speaking to you like this always makes you squirm, but you suppress it to express your anger at him.
“Don’t call me that. How many times do I have to tell you to let me know when you make plans to take our daughter somewhere.” You grit your teeth.
He simply gives a sly smile, “Are you really upset about that?”
Once again, he pretends it’s not significant. You’re not even asking for much. Is it really a death sentence for him to inform you of where your daughter might be going? Why do you always end up being the last one to learn? You believe it’s not difficult to give you a week’s notice. You won’t have to be worried about looking silly when your daughter tells you. You don’t think it’s fair to you at all.
“I trust Connie, and I trust you with our daughter, but I just want to know where she’s going. Preferably before she goes! That’s all I ask for, Eren. You can’t keep doing-”
“Are you mad at daddy, mommy?”
You freeze.
Your daughter rested on Connie’s back as he held her mini Disney Princess suitcase. She was gazing at you with a pout, and you didn’t want to be the one to put that expression on her face. You’re about to respond when Eren suddenly opens his mouth, condescending tone and all,
“Yeah, mama. Are you mad at me?”
You try and force a smile for the sake of your daughter, even though every part of you wants to wring your ex-husband’s neck.
“No, baby. Are you ready to leave with Uncle Connie now?” As if it were never there, the frown is replaced by a fit of giggles, a bright smile, and a frantic nod of her head.
Connie gives your daughter a small rub on her head, “We should head out now. The flight’s in two hours, and we don’t wanna get stuck in traffic.”
You hurriedly nod and lead them both to the front door. Your daughter is smothered with kisses after you hug her and whisper a sweet ‘I love you.’ Eren presents your daughter with a mini Chanel box just before Connie puts Raqi in the child’s seat in the backseat of his Scat. You manage to make out his little whisper to her, ‘Don’t open it until tomorrow. Daddy loves you.’
Together, you love them, and you have no regrets about giving this man a child. It’s something you could never regret. Marrying him wasn’t a regret for you either; truly, he treated you like a princess. It’s just that you want him to dedicate more time to you.
Eren spent a lot of time outside before having your baby, whether it was with his friends or his job. He was always dedicated to providing you with everything you needed, but you never asked for any of those tangible things. The only thing you wanted was your husband. It took you some time to communicate your feelings to him, but eventually you did.
As a person who was understanding, he listened. For approximately a week, before he did the same shit again. You were worn out and reached a point where you couldn’t keep going any further. Although Eren wouldn’t give you the divorce you wanted, he was accommodating and allowed you to move out of his home. Provided that he will get the apartment and pay your rent. ‘Safety measures,’ he calls them.
Even now, Eren still acts as though you’re married, and you still pretend that it’s bothering you. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear your door slam shut, with Eren still inside your house.
“You really mad at me, mama?”
You merely sigh, “Eren, why are you still here?”
With his hands on either side of you, he stands in front of you while your body presses flush against the front door. You feel a slight tingle, aware that you’re inhaling the same air as this man. You give a quick glance at his pink lips and hope you look away swiftly enough so he doesn’t notice. He does.
His lips curl, and his voice becomes low and breathless when he speaks again, “Answer me, baby.”
You sense that Eren is talking about more than today for some reason. He’s talking about everything that led up to it, including his absence and negligence. He’s asking if you’re still upset about the way he influenced you to want to divorce him.
A tear that you didn’t even realize was forming slips down your face. Eren doesn’t miss a beat when wiping it away with his thumb and delicately kissing your cheek as well.
You whisper shakily, “I don’t want to be. B-But you make it so hard, Ren.”
Ren. You called him Ren. He fails to recall the last time he heard the nickname you gave him flutter past your pretty lips. He derives pleasure from it and longs to listen to it again.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, mama. You have to believe me. I never want to see you cry, baby. And I’m so sorry for making you feel like this.”
You attempt to move away, but he grasps your hands tightly, causing you to remain still. He understands your struggle, but you don’t trust him. And you’re trying to run away from him again. Eren has apologized before, but he wants you to acknowledge his apologies this time.
He kisses your cheek again, “I’m not working as much anymore, and I even cut back on dealing. I’m sorry I didn’t get it before. I know you just wanted me to spend more time with you, and I swear I’ll make it happen. Just take me back, please.”
Another kiss, this time on your neck, “I miss you so much, mama.”
Your breathing is intensifying, and your hold on him is gradually diminishing. “Ren, please. I- I can’t.”
“Let me make it up to you, hm? Show you how much I missed you. Let me, mama.”
You’re so weak, you scold yourself. So, so weak. He shouldn’t be able to get you like this easily. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to slip off your robe, letting it fall on the cold floor. You should have more resistance. You should make him work for it.
But how can you? 
How can you resist when he’s on his knees, letting his tongue push in and out of your wet hole, unashamedly moaning as you twitch and buck your hips into his mouth. He’s entirely too nasty and too careless when he laps up everything your addictive pussy is pouring into his awaiting mouth.
You’re shaking, your body shivering so much you have goosebumps everywhere. He just doesn’t let up. Each time you try and push away from his pleasurable onslaught, it’s just,
“Quiet, mama. Daddy can’t make it up to you if you’re running from him.”
Your eyes are starting to hurt so much from the way you’re rolling them back into your skull. You’re heaving, squealing when he suckles harshly on your poor clit. Not even your vibrator made you feel this good. 
“G-Gonna cum- Ah! Oh fuck, Rennie!”
You hear the slurping sounds as he eats you, and he never once removes himself from your cunt as he whispers, “Not my name, mama.”
God, you can feel the vibrations, can feel his long tongue covering every crevice inside of you. You grip his head, his beanie barely hanging onto him with how much you both are moving. You wail when he inserts two fingers in at once after he slips his tongue out of you, a precious and weak “Daddy- shit!” released into the air.
He hums against you, against your wet mound, and for some reason, that’s what pushes you over the edge. Your stomach clenches, and your entire being feels like it’s being set alight when you cum on his big fingers. Eren swears he’s fallen in love all over again. It’s been months since he’s tasted you, tasted your sweet cream. He’s missed it. God, he missed you.
As soon as he senses you’re too weak to stand on your own, he rises to his feet and immediately lifts you up by your legs. His lips are brushing against yours now, still wet from your essence.
“You never gave me that kiss. C’mon, baby, kiss me.”
And you do, moaning when you immediately taste yourself. Your breath caught in his mouth as he pushed your legs back against the wall, and he didn’t hesitate to swallow your sounds, sucking your tongue and biting your blushed lips.
Time slows when Eren finally pulls his sweats down and nudges his fat cock in you. He’s holding you so gently like you’ll break in any moment, and honestly, you feel like you will. It’s been so long, so long since you had something this big stretching you out. You can’t help but whimper out pretty cries of ‘Daddy!’ or ‘Rennie!’ against his panting mouth.
You’re so stuffed. So full that you can’t think of anything but how good he feels, how good this intense euphoria streaming through your body feels.
Eren is the same. He’s fisted his cock red to thoughts of having you like this once more. You were the only one who could ever make him feel like a wimp whenever he fucked you. Your pussy just feels so perfect, squeezing around him so tight, like you want him to put another baby in you. Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
He gives you slow, deep strokes that make you keen. The sound of his voice is groggy and slurred as he grunts against your throat, “God, you feel so good. Please, baby, forgive me. Say you’ll take me back. Say it. Say it.”
Through your haze, you still manage to have a few brain cells still working, barely. You’re trying to speak out, but every time his hips press flush against your own, it’s like your breath gets caught in your throat. Still, you stutter out,
“C-Can’t- Hah! Oh, right there!”
“You know I’ll never leave you alone. I can’t, mama. Rather die before I ever let you go. I’ll get on my knees again if I have to, baby.” He sounds so pretty, begging for your forgiveness like this. You don’t know how long you can hold out. You’re not sure you even can.
“You’re c-crazy.” You utter, completely breathless, when he hits your g-spot.
Eren’s response is immediate when he reaches down to rub your clit in tight circles, “For you. Crazy for you.”
Whining, your squirt splashes all over his hoodie, and your body is twitching because it won’t stop. Your supposed ex-spouse groans as he spills his seed past your splashing pussy lips, right into your womb, while whispering unsteadily, ‘I love you so much.’ Shakenly, you pull his face toward yours and kiss him, drool pouring out of both your lips. It’s almost as if you’re trying to devour each other.
When you reluctantly pull away from his lips, he speaks once again, “Please, I need you. Just want you in my arms again, mama.”
You sigh, and honestly too exhausted to argue against him, you answer,
“If you start going back to your old habits, Eren-”
“I won’t. Swear on my life- on our daughter.”
You hum, fingers now combing through his loose curls. You gasp against his lips, feeling him shift inside you, “I love you too, Ren. Always did.”
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specialgradefckr · 4 months ago
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Heatwave: Day 6
tw: explicit content. 9k+ words. Satoru/Reader. female!omega!reader, alpha!gojo. mutual pining, light angst, YEARNING, so much yearning, PIV, heat/rut sex, minor breeding kink, choking, reader and gojo are switches, gojo is kind of a masochist. intense bickering. you and gojo are both pathetically whipped and in love, and i do mean pathetic
Prompt: Mating cycles are as violent as they are horny, intent to kill is high.
It took some convincing to get you a position as a teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High School – plenty of traditional fools in charge who thought omegas were better as childbearers than sorcerers.
But you got there. After ten years teaching in public schools, teaching at Tokyo Jujutsu High was what you'd always wanted: small classes with dedicated students who you could form real bonds with.
As a sorcerer, you had the potential to become a special grade – but your true passion was teaching, and it was a far better use of your talents to help the newest sorcerers improve.
Other teachers weren’t quite as gifted in the art of passing on knowledge. Like the special grade sorcerer no one ever shut up about, Satoru Gojo.
He was seven years younger than you – practically a student himself. But somehow, here he was, a teacher alongside you. Nepotism, maybe, combined with how obviously alpha he was – freakishly tall, well-built, and unnervingly confident, used to getting his way.
You’re not certain of his credentials as a teacher. If he has any at all.
If you were forced to guess, you’d assume Gojo had at least a PhD in pissing you the fuck off.
“Awh, c’mon now,” He’d snickered at your implication. “Like it’s hard?”
You could kill him. Actually, cross that out – you will kill him, just as soon as you’re finished riding his stupid big, fat knot to absolute oblivion.
Alphas, for all their pride, are even dumber and hornier than omegas in heat once their rut kicks into high gear and they lock their knot into someone.
You’ll choke him out then, you plan – if that doesn’t just make him roll all six eyes in exaggerated pleasure.
Gojo’s just that kind of complete and utter brat. Even if he is an alpha.
Constantly stalking you from behind, ready to throw his arms around your shoulders in some lazy half-embrace. Lording his stupid height over you, his seemingly endless youthful energy.
“Hey~” He’d drawl, leaning into you, knowing exactly how much the action exposed his scent, “How’s it going with the students? Teach ‘em any new tricks?”
You weren’t some early-twenties dewy-eyed omega; his scent didn’t have any more effect on you than a nice cologne would have. “Yes, I think today went well. They’re bright kids, I’m proud of them.”
“Oho! We should celebrate your success!” Not pleased with your response, he’d squeezed your shoulders close, enough that you couldn’t walk away. “Drinks on me! Let’s head out~”
“Hitting on older women?” You’d returned, shrugging him off so you could walk away, “What, have you successfully repulsed every potential mate of your own age group? Quite a feat, even for you, Gojo.”
“Awh, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to show my support! I know ladies your age tend to get a lot of flak these days, especially from the higher-ups…”
It had been a pretty low blow from him, considering how much he disliked the higher-ups and tradition as a whole. Looking back, that was probably him getting desperate for some kind of reaction.
Like a fool, you’d given it to him.
Spinning, whipping around to tuck your finger beneath his chin, just tickling at his neck, inches from his scent glands.
“Ladies my age don’t go for boys like you, Satoru-kun,” you purr, snatching his chin and pulling his pretty face closer to yours, “And I’ll have you know, I have no interest one-night stands.”
He grins that awful, gorgeous grin with those pretty sparkling eyes. “Now when did I say I wanted anything like that? You’ve got a dirty mind there. I just wanted to get drinks.”
“When did I say you did?” You hold his gaze like you would the leash of a particularly disobedient dog. “I was just letting you know. But since you just want to get some celebratory drinks, I’ll ask Shoko and Nanami to come along.”
Heh. Transparent disappointment flashes across his face, like he’s bitten into a lemon, but he’s quick to brighten up.
“My mistake, I got a little too excited~” He follows alongside you with his stupidly long stride, hands in his pockets, “I was just soooo~ happy to hear you don’t do one-night stands. I’d get super jealous!”
This he says, right after taunting you for suggesting he wanted one? What a little shit.
“Do you also recall the part where I said I wasn’t interested in little boys?” You mutter, texting Shoko and Nanami about the meetup.
You can still feel his presence behind you. Pheromones drifting through your awareness. Gojo’s got such a weird scent for an alpha. Artificial and sour and sweet. Blue raspberry. Electric, just a whiff of it tingles. You lick your lips.
“Yeah, I heard you. Good to know my darling kohai Nanami is safe from your clutches~” He sings.
Fucking insufferable.
-
The thing about alphas was that they got aggressive when their ruts came around.
From experience you’d known his limitless could be turned on and off at will, and he could allow his scent to drift through it.
Not only was Gojo nearing his rut, he wanted you to know that he was nearing his rut. The air is oozing with his stinging, cloying scent that makes your mouth water. You have to swallow your spit a few times.
So when Gojo insisted that you spar with him, you just knew it was going to fucking suck.
He was going to use it to force unnecessary contact, shove his scent in your face, taunt and tease you while he physically prevented you from leaving.
Then, the million dollar question. Why the fuck did you ever agree to it?
Deep down, you tell yourself it’s to shut his stupid ass up. Because it’ll make for good practice, and that’s not even a lie. Or even just because he’s got a pretty face, and you want eye candy.
You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the heat you know you’re just on the verge of.
Nothing to do with the rut that has him smelling absolutely delectable.
The adrenaline that bursts through your veins as he races towards you is purely from the thrill of combat.
The exhilaration of watching his strike swing through empty air, the slight shock on his face; that’s because you’re proud of your skills.
You’re not panting, teeth bared in an awful grin, arms tightening back to grab him and hold him down, make him yours yours all yours – this is a combat stance.
Not that you wanted to fight him that badly in the first place. Feel his strikes against yours, touch that infinity for yourself. See what he’s offering, that he likes to throw it in your face so much.
It’s not any of that, and you whip out a denial for each thought as it rises like you dodge Gojo’s strikes with increasing desperation. Fast. Fast, so fast, like a blink. Here one moment, there the next.
Focus. On him. White hair, black tracksuit, that little flash of blue you’d see anywhere. You pin your senses on him, on the scent that dances in the air, tempting you. Put every fiber of your being into matching his strikes, which come faster, and faster, until eventually even you can’t dodge them.
White hair. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Pretty, pale face. Pressure down against you, breath, scent, hot in your face. Focus, focus.
Anything to take your attention from the way your thighs want to clench together when he pins you down, nose brushing against yours.
Close enough no infinity could stop you if you wanted to lean forward into the neck showing under his collar and bi-
“You goin’ easy on me?” He practically purrs in your ear. Infuriating.
So you let yourself purr back. Take in his pheromones for just a second, lean into it, relaxing underneath him as you let off an answering scent, laced with the arousal you’re already feeling. Tongue darting between your lips for a moment as you let your eyes linger on his pretty mouth, pretty face.
Gojo’s eyes dilate as your lashes flutter, tilting your lips to –
SLAM
“No,” You sing to his crumpled form, hunched over from the blow to his middle, “I think you’re easy, Gojo. Come back when you’re not a horny little beast about to rut.”
A breathy chuckle comes from him as he situates himself to sit back on his heels, catching his breath.
Unnerving. Everything about this bastard is unnerving. The way he looks up at you, face flushed, grinning with delight – you know for a fact your strike hit hard enough to bruise. Maybe he could heal it, but he was still winded from the impact. It had to hurt, still.
Instead, those too-blue eyes seem to glow at you.
“Easy, huh?” He says, and you pretend he said it to himself. “Actually, I’m pretty hard.”
(You try very hard to pretend you didn’t hear that. To pretend you couldn’t smell it the moment you struck him.)
He licks his lips, taking in a deep breath, like he caught the scent of something he can’t let escape him. Eyes staring after you.
You walk away, before he can catch on to how slick you’ve become, just with this little interaction. What are you, a teenager? Maybe you’re close to your heat, but not that close.
Gojo lets you walk.
You think he knows.
(He definitely knows.)
-
He loves to taunt you. Alphas love posturing, looking for fights, as soon as their ruts come around. But an omega nearing their heat would snap at anything that so much as breathed wrong. Ready to see everything as a threat, demanding and critical even of those closest to them.
Both secondary genders had… attitude problems during their mating cycles that led to them lashing out. But due to stereotypes, alphas were seen as being dominant and argumentative, whereas omegas were seen as…
“Awh, needy, are we? Must be your heat coming up, huh?”
“Still hitting on older women? Your rut must really have you acting like an animal. Why don’t you do us all a favor and find someone to fuck it out with?” God, just talking about it is fucking annoying.
“Not very mature of you to say, ma’am!” The look you gave him must have spoken volumes, because he immediately responded, “It’s okay, I know how it is. You don’t have to be so shy about admitting it! What omega wouldn’t want a strong, handsome alpha like me to take care of them~?”
“Kill yourself.”
Satoru Gojo had pried words from your mouth you would otherwise be horrified by. And that wasn’t even the worst of it.
The worst of it was he would try to pamper you, just like he claimed you must have needed.
And the worst of that part was that it fucking worked.
He knew all your favorite drinks, snacks, meals. Had things delivered to your desk when even his own moronic self could understand you did not want to see him – always with traces of his scent lingering on the gift.
Papers to grade? Coffee from your favorite café, just the way you liked it.
Indoor from a long training session? Something iced and fruity to sip on.
Back from a stressful mission? A dessert so delectable you double-check to see if Gojo hadn’t already taken a bite out of it himself.
“A little pick me up after all your hard work~ The students always talk about how much they love you. Trying to steal my thunder, huh? Good job, sensei!”
The words are irrationally pleasing to read. And he smells good, it always smells too fucking good, refreshing at the first hint and then invigorating the next. Sweet and sour, just like the bastard himself.
There’s little bits. A ribbon, a traditional little lunch wrapped in a handkerchief, one time he even just shamelessly sets his coat down next to a drink with another note.
“By the way, my favorite jacket got stained while getting you this. Since it’s your fault, you can dry clean it for me, right? Make sure to give it back, I’d miss it so much!”
Awful. Awful terrible man. Giving you every excuse in the book to hoard his scent and pretend you hadn’t. You could be throwing these away, for all he knows. Out of pure spite.
(He knows. He must know that you can’t throw them away, your instincts scream at you, your heat aches and burns. Each little article you get to squirrel away allows you another night of easier rest. He knows it. You know he does.)
It’s infuriating. It’s absolutely fucking infuriating because you know Gojo doesn’t mean it like that. He’s just using this to get to you. Doesn’t want anything more than to fuck the closest and most convenient hole because his rut is coming up. He isn’t pursuing a relationship with you, this isn’t courting, just teasing.
It’d amuse him, too, after. To tease you about it, probably try some weird shit in the classrooms or on missions – he’s got that air about him. Slutty. Down for anything.
It’s infuriating and it’s fucking hot. And devastating, because you meant it when you said you don’t really do one-night stands.
He’s just so unreasonably pretty that you’d thought about it when you met him. The attraction is there, on both ends, but the more you’ve gotten to know him the more certain you are that it’s a bad idea.
Gojo’s a menace already, and as fun as it was to taunt him, having sex with him would just give him more ammunition. He made everything weird.
All the teasing, the uncomfortable chemistry, the not-courting shit, and you’re in heat. Sure, you’d had casual sex before, but during your heat? Fuck that shit.
Because unfortunately, Gojo is right. You get needy.
Not because you’re an omega. It’s because you’re you.
When you spend your heat with a partner it’s like you can’t stop everything from spilling out.
The desire to know and be known in your entirety. To feel and touch and cherish every inch laid bare, to gift yourself like a sacrament to someone who you know will worship you –
See? Unbearably romantic. And you love it, you eat that shit up. It’s deep in you, a wanting you don’t even wish to deny.
The thought of waking up to an empty bed during your heat drove you mad with loathing and heartbreak. Seeing the person you’d allowed to have you in your heat touching someone else? You’d be out for blood.
Alphas get territorial. If an alpha sees someone with their partner, they’re liable to rip the interloper to shreds.
Omegas get possessive. An omega wouldn’t care about someone coveting what's theirs, but they’ll rip that partner to shreds if they suspect they have eyes for another.
It’s funny, how all that nurturing and devotion can turn so easily into equal parts cruelty and violence. To love deeply is to hate deeply, and adoration is so intrinsic to your being that you can’t help but fall hard whenever desire takes you.
You’re a needy little monster, craving love, gentleness, affection. You wouldn’t survive whatever he did after, you might not even survive baring yourself to him, letting the extent of your desire be known.
Gojo would rip your poor, tender, beating heart from your chest. Chew it up and spit it out like trash.
And he’s so, so pretty, and he smells so good, and you love the excitement of your back and forth – you adore him, this Satoru Gojo. You want him so bad you can taste it. But Gojo doesn’t feel it like you do, like a need deep in his bones that aches all the way to his dreams.
You’re seven years his senior, have no exceptional qualities, and he’s got all the options in the world. Gojo’s still so young. There’s no reason for him to want to be tied to you. If he fantasizes at all, it’s about fucking you, knotting you, not of your teeth on his neck or his own on yours.
And you shouldn’t even entertain the idea of him fantasizing about you. You shouldn’t entertain any of these thoughts, because for all the violence your love can inflict on him, Gojo is the one who would emerge unscathed. You’d be left in tatters, and he wouldn’t even have the decency not to step all over them.
You can’t sleep with him. You’ll die, you’ll surely die, it’ll absolutely feel like you’re dying to see that pretty face smile sarcastically, or sneer and turn away. You’ll awaken without his warmth beside you and it’ll feel like your heart is missing from your chest and you’ll have to be reminded of that every time you see him because you work with that fucking nuisance. At your job.
You can’t do it. You can’t. Off limits, no way.
But you’re (regrettably, unfortunately, miserably) needy when you’re in heat. And Gojo is a horny little beast in his rut.
And he knows, he knows he fucking knows. He’s there whenever you turn a corner, walk up to a vending machine, sit down to grade papers. He’s got that awful million watt smile that lights up his entire stupid pretty face when he flirts with you, trades barbs back and forth.
He’s touchy, too touchy, gets too close. Asks to spar with you again and again until you say yes. Leaves you more treats, more drinks, more little gifts the whole while.
Your hands get dry because your heat wakes you up in the middle of the night, you have to touch yourself constantly. Gojo brings you lotion that smells like raspberries (like him).
You’re not entirely sure he hasn’t fucked around and filled the bottle with lotion that’s also laced with his cum. You use it anyways. His reaction makes it obvious that he can tell you have, and he’s pleased by it.
You hate him. You hate him, and you want him. You want him so fucking bad.
You can’t do this. You can’t do it.
Gojo looks at you like he wants to eat you. Like he’s tracking every little twitch, every movement, like a predator and his prey. Like he’s waiting for you to bolt off so he can give chase.
You can’t do this.
You’re not fucking prey. You’ll bite him back, doesn’t this stupid man know?
And he spars with you again and you’re left breathless from dodging him –
(you refuse to be touched by someone who is himself untouchable)
And he smells so so so good up close when he finally tackles you, seizes you, locks your arms up from behind you –
(you love to be held, you dream of being held, in the depths of your heat it’s not being filled that comforts you it’s the thought of pressure like a vice grasping you so close, unwilling to let go)
And his face is so devastatingly beautiful up close, those terrible, magnificent eyes like a sea of stars, staring at you like he’s enraptured –
(god, he’s so pretty, just looking at him has a little dose of glee shooting through you)
And his lips taste as good as he smells –
(sweet and sour, can it really be that bad if the sting is all washed away with the tingle of sugary, electric tang on your tongue)
And he holds you so so tight so close so warm –
(you’re pulsing, aching, throbbing, and you’re so fucking tired of your own fingers and he’s grinding against you so good)
And then you’re in your room, at your door, inches away from your nest with all the shameful little bits and pieces of his scent you’ve stolen away.
(you can’t do this. this man will kill you. he will be the death of you.)
Teeth on your collarbone, huge hands clawing at your shirt, pulling it up. You look down at him, meet his fevered eyes and lust-filled gaze.
His breaths ghost over the skin he’s left wet with kisses and nips. Hungry, so hungry for you. So pretty. You grasp his pretty face with both hands and pull him up into a kiss that’s more teeth than lips.
(You’ll go out fighting.)
When his tongue darts into your mouth you nearly moan at the taste of him. Gojo groans, and he does it openly, hands wide over your ass and clenching at it. You close your teeth against his tongue, not hard, not biting. Just to feel it. Measuring the give.
Gojo nicks himself on your teeth to pull away, a sparkle in his eyes.
“Knew you wanted me.”  He pants, licking over your lips, “Wanted this. Could smell you.” Lick, lick. “Taste you.”
Fuck. His eyes are wild and eager and you can smell his arousal already dripping free from him. Slotting one of your legs between his lets you press up and confirm his hardness. He moans at it, purposefully loud.
Massive. He’s massive, hard, and aching for you, so much he nearly howls at the pressure. Clawing your clothes off of you. You’re no better, yanking off his jacket, tugging his shirt up – and he lets you – tossing them into your bed.
“Look at you,” Kiss, kiss, he steals the words between presses of his mouth on your skin, like he has to breathe you and not the air, “Look at that sweet little nest. Helped you with it, didn’t I? Aren’t I just the greatest alpha?”
It’s hard, so fucking hard, to ignore how delight laces through your chest at his words. This nest, this place where you’ve languished for too long already in your heat, now an alpha (your alpha) is here and happy to fill it up (fill you up), curl up in it with you.
“You’re talking too much,” is all you dare to let yourself voice.
You seize his pants and underwear by the waistband, dragging them down his hips. Gojo stumbles, undignified, towards you, but even then, he’s tall enough to press you to fall back into the strategic mess of blankets, pillows, and your hoarded pieces of his offerings.
He’s still grinning as he pins you down. Arms on either side of you. Tall, so tall, so much larger than you. Larger than life. Your beautiful, ferocious alpha, all hard and excited just for you.
“Too bad. I love talking.” Gojo’s eyes stay trained on yours as he mouths over a breast, sucking as much of it as he can into his mouth.
“No, really? Would never have guessed.” the grumble escapes you, and he giggles.
He watches you still, tense, and try not to lean into the sensation as he plays at your nipple with his tongue, teeth. Pulls away with a pop.
You hear him kicking off what remains of his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to look down.
“I can smell your slick from here,” A hand tracing up the inside of your thigh, “Mouthwatering.”
So wet you can almost feel yourself gushing. His hands are inches away from it. Heavy, warm form bearing down on you as he moves to suck at your other breast. Teasing fingers where your leg joins to your body.
“Is that all your mouth’s good for?”
His laughter had been far too mocking to be endearing, just like his grip on your hips had been just a bit tighter than pleasant, his grin wide enough to be smug instead of sweet.
Wretched and traitorous, your heart lurches at his beautiful face, anyways.
“If you wanted me to show you,” Those blue, blue eyes never leave yours as he trails his face down your body, “You could’ve just asked, babe.”
Your hand finds its way into his hair, which is naturally as soft and pleasant to the touch as you’d dreamed it was. You clench tightly and he rumbles in approval.
“Like it rough, do you, omega?” His breathes, right over your drooling cunt. “Me, too.”
“You’d be so fucking hot,” You pant, “If you kept your damn mouth closed.”
When he laughs again, it feels a little better, but he’s always got to dig in. Pressing kisses to your clit that leave you fighting the urge to kick your legs.
“I’m always hot, baby,” God, it feels so sinful, so good, to have his exhalation ghosting over your slickness, “You’re just all antsy ‘cause of your heat. Let me make you cum, calm you down.”
This has the opposite effect of calming you down and he knew it would. Probably expected you to wrap your legs around his waist while he buried his face in your cunt, digging your heels hard into his sides, like spurs.
“Would be the first useful thing your mouth has done all year.” Gojo snickers against you and it’s annoying how good it feels.
And then he closes his lips around your clit, tongue tracing swiftly all over it, and you couldn’t stop squirming if you tried. Can’t stop the noises that come out of your mouth, spilling out, overflowing, like how the slick just pours from your clenching hole.
He fingers into you, two at once, and it’s embarrassing how little you feel it at all. Two, in and out, then a third, stretching inside you. Spreading them apart inside you. Making these awful wet noises – it doesn’t help that Gojo likes to smack his lips while he eats.
“Tasty. So wet. Did you stretch yourself for me?” He asks between laps at your clit, pressing himself closer to you while you whimper and teeter on the edge, “Got some knot toys to prep?”
“Fuck – Gojo!” Even when you’re trying to snap at him, he makes it fucking impossible, suckling at your clit before you can get the words out.
You cum with a light, airy cry. Short, shallow gasps as your other hand darts down to grasp his shoulder. Clinging.
“I will, I will,” Gojo takes a deep breath, over the wetness of you, making you shiver.
Eyes like blue flame look up at you. Sinful tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog. Licking sticky lips. “Must’ve been hard, all that time you spent waiting. Don’t you worry, I’ve got a nice big knot ready just for you.”
And god, it’s fucking terrible, how you have to suppress a shiver of delight at his words, as he crawls up your body to be eye-level with you. His cock rubs along your sex, wetting itself so easily it should be embarrassing.
It is big. It’s so big and the knot swelling at the base of it is even better, thick and pulsing and throbbing.
Your stupid horny omega brain wails at the prospect of finally, finally being filled up by something hot and pulsing and living. Strong enough to hold you down and breed you. He’d give you the prettiest kids.
Oh god, oh fuck. Omega brain is seizing the steering wheel right now and you’re fucking terrified of where it’ll take you. You have no idea what you’re going to do when he knots you.
And he WILL fucking knot you if you have to mount and ride him yourself.
He’s grinning. Your instinct screams at you to bite. “I could smell it on you just now, you know. You want me to knot you soooo bad.”
You return his smile with bared teeth, “You want to knot me so bad, Gojo.” You’re still oversensitive when you grind your cunt against him but it’s worth it to see his stupid jaw drop open, “It makes you look fucking stupid.”
Pretty, pretty. He’s so pretty you could cry, and his cock is twitching against you, wet and burning and ready.
“Shut up,” Gojo breathes, close enough for you to smell his tingling scent on his breath, “And take it.”
A snarl builds in your throat, climbs on your lips – only to be knocked away thoroughly by the feeling of his fat head nudging, hot and swollen at your entrance. You’re so slick it feels almost gummy against you.
He drives himself in and you bite back a scream. Instead you let your hands claw down his back, and when they’re far enough down you just reach up to his shoulders again and dig your nails in harder.
The scrape at your fingertips, the way the smooth flesh of his back yields to yours – rough and savage enough to leave his eyes wide and gleaming.
His cock driving into you is like velvet, warm and wet and welcoming, filling an ache that makes you want to cry out.
There’s a stretch, because he’s big, of course he’s fucking huge but it’s the delicious type of stretch, a tight pinch that makes you shudder and clench and pull a moan or two out of him in return.
“See?” He nips at the underside of your jaw. Close, too close, inches away from your scenting glands, licking like he wants a taste, “Just needed some cock to calm you down. Poor – poor little omega, your heat must have been really bad, huh?”
You want to kill him. You want him to fill you up up UP more and more of his cock drives into you, it’s like it’s fucking endless, his knot urges forward at your entrance and the stretch –
“This – hhgh – coming from the beast in rut,” You snarl through strangled moans, “Who’s been throwing himself at me like an animal?”
Your hand in his hair trails down, over the back of his neck, and his whole body jerks at the touch. You’re no better, straining beneath him, talking out loud so you don’t lose your mind as his knot slides home.
“Did you think of me while you fucked your hand, Gojo?”  Dangerous territory. Dangerous thoughts. “Did you think about what I’d do to you? About me putting you on your ass while sparring because my scent turned you into a slut?”
He groans, long and laborious. You feel his knot lock in, his head thrown back (neck bared, pretty, pale, so empty and open) as he whines out his release.
It spurts inside you, hot and swelling and heady enough to bring you to a second release as his pelvis grinds against your clit.
“So what if I did?” There’s a challenge in his eyes, bright and sky blue and heart-rendingly beautiful in his blissed out state.
Something churns in your chest, something feral and wanting and you should know better but you can’t stop it now –
“Always think of me,” the demand leaves your lips before you can think of it, “You’ll always think of me when you touch yourself now, Gojo, you won’t be able to cum without it.” Before you know it, you’re purring, both from the afterglow and the words you’ve spoken with such misplaced confidence.
He thrusts lightly into you, a short useless movement which just makes you both more aware of his fat, swollen knot as it pumps his cum into you. Gojo purrs back at you, a warm rumble you can feel all throughout his form pressed against yours. His face against your chest, rubbing it – scenting you.
Your arms curl around him. Hold him close. “Never think of anyone else. Only me.”
The only response is louder purring. It’s painfully pleasant, comfortable, with the length of him pressed against you, his knot buried inside of you.
His eyes are half-lidded, dragging his parted lips over your skin. It’s too lazy and slow to be called a kiss, but the intimacy of It burns a trail across your skin. He licks at your neck in broad strokes and you mindlessly loll your head to the side, baring it for him.
Both of you content in the silence, sated by your climaxes. The first of many. A lull where you lie locked together so perfectly, enjoying the sinful trickles of his cum filling you up while his knot slowly deflates.
Naturally, Gojo can only let a good thing last so long.
“Never think of anyone else, huh?” His voice is unbearably smug, and smooth, and all things lovely. “Possessive and needy. What were you going to do if I hadn’t pounced on you?”
It takes you a moment to respond, disgruntled, “Next time you made an ass of yourself while sparring I would’ve just bitten you.”
A laugh; breathless and light. “I thought you didn’t like younger men?”
“A knot is a knot.” You clench around him a bit, just to drive your point home. It makes him spurt a little more into you, scalding hot. He hisses, face flushing.
He’s pretty like this. Then again, he’s always pretty.
“Yeah?” He leans in with glittering eyes, already recovered. “Bet you like my knot best. Bet you won’t want any other after this.”
You already don’t. You love the feel of him inside you, how he fits like a glove, how his knot fills you to bursting. It’s still inside you and you already want to feel it again. You already want him to be yours. All yours, only yours and yours forever.
But this is your asshole coworker who bickers with you, not your fucking boyfriend.
“I want another alpharight now,” You roll your eyes, like saying it would make it real, “A quieter one.”
“Heh.” His smile is as loud as his eyes. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t let me so much as lick you if you weren’t already thirsting your brains out for me.”
God, are you that transparent? Or can he see through lies with the six eyes, too?
You push yourself upwards – not easy because Gojo’s laid his uselessly long torso against your chest – and the knot’s still mostly lodged in you but there’s enough give for you to push him back until you’re sitting on his lap.
Gojo is leaned against you, resting his body weight against you as he purrs like a careless, cuddly cat.
He doesn’t even flinch when you cup his face between your hands. Lazy, relaxed, content inside you.
“You have a lot of cheek for a brat who got hard after I knocked the wind out of him.” You tilt your head to the side. “Or maybe that’s what you’re hoping for on round two?”
And oh god. This guy can’t be for real. His knot has barely gone down enough to pull out and you feel him twitch inside you, hardening again. You pull him out with a twist of your hips and he actually whines.
He licks his lips. “What do you think?”
His cock flops against you again, hard, ready to go. You let out an incredulous laugh. “I called you a horny beast, I didn’t think you were actually some kind of – breeding whore.”
“Mmmh,” Large hands dart to hold your ass, pulling you closer, ��Maybe I am. You’ll let me fuck you, though, so I must be doing something right.”
As dirty talk goes, you could do way better. But it looks like Gojo is just that easy – his scent deepens with excitement, electric on your tongue.
Mouthwatering. Stinging. It reaches deeper into you than you’d like, pulls out an answering tug of longing that spills over your lips before you can stop it.
Hands on his shoulders, over those pretty collarbones, shoving him back. It’s so easy; he falls back for you without resistance. Staring up at you through lowered lashes like an actual seductress.
Satoru Gojo is heartrendingly beautiful, above you or beneath you. It drives you mad.
“Tell me,” You want you want you want, “Tell me how badly you want to fuck me.” Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me. Tell me you’re mine and you’ll never be anyone else’s.
“You said it yourself,” Gojo breathes, “I’m a whore, yeah? A beast in rut, throwing myself at you.”
“Why me?” Tell me I’m the only one who could ever satisfy you. He might be a dumb horny whore of an alpha, but your omega brain is equally delirious for feeding into this delusion. Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me.
His smile is lazy, eyes glimmering, and you get a terrible intuition that he knows exactly what you’re asking, exactly what you want. And he’s not going to give it to you.
“Knew you could keep up.” He answers with a distinct ring of mockery. Fucking brat.
Wrong answer. Wrong. Answer.
Your hands jump to his throat. Squeezing instinctively. Like you can rip the words out of him, the voice that lights every fiber of your being on fire, in all the worst ways. And his neck feels so perfect under your hands. Like it was always meant to be there.
"Wanna bite?" He mouths, somehow smirking at you before his mouth drops into an "O" – you’re grinding against him, hard and careless of his overstimulation.
Those pretty blue irises shrink and dilate wide, shimmering with tears. His face is so pale, lashes such a pretty white that the red on his cheeks stands out all the more painfully. A moan of pleasure ripples under your fingertips, squandered in your grasp.
God, he really is a whore, isn’t he? So eager in front of you, dick out, lashes fluttering, throwing himself at you. Teasing you with his scent, his little gifts. Letting you see him like this. How could he let you see him like this, if he didn’t want to be yours?
Would he be so pathetic and needy for anyone? It sends rage through you, white-hot and yearning. All you can see is him, him, Gojo in all his debauched glory beneath you.
Ruin him. Ruin him for anyone else. Yours, yours, all yours. So much that he can never think of anyone else, like you can only think of him.
You squeeze harder, like you can pull his treacherous, perfect voice out if you can just press hard enough into his singing pulse. Close, close, so fucking close, the pull inside you draws you over his cock, up and down, rubbing against your throbbing clit.
His cock twitches in time with it as you grind away. Blood rushing in your ears, pounding. You’re close. He’s close. He’s going to cum. He’s going to cum outside of you.
Just as Gojo’s eyes squeeze shut, his cock jumping against you – you pull your cunt off, leaving no more stimulation. You don’t release your hold on his throat, hips guided purely by instinct, slotting him against your entrance.
“Don’t you dare,” You hiss, feeling his pulse flutter, “You don’t cum unless you’re inside me. Never.”
Eyes shooting wide to look up at you. His lips part, desperate, passionate, heavy with words that he doesn’t have the air for.
You don’t want to hear it. He’s said enough.
You ride him like you hate him - to be fair, you kind of do.
Slamming down on his dick, just short of his knot. Hunched over him so you can still choke him while you fuck him, see his stupid face contort in shock and bliss as his cock is suddenly enveloped.
His sweet-sour scent practically stings your tongue, heavy with arousal, with lust, with want –
He fills you up so fucking good, he’s infuriating, he’s huge, he’s perfect and why isn’t he yours? Everything inside you screams and all you know is the stretch in your core, the burning need.
So close so close you're almost THERE –
Panting, gasping, you bear yourself down on his knot with a wail, squeezing his neck like a stress toy. It makes him pulse and throb inside you.
Fuck fuck FUCK -
The STRETCH, it fucking burns, Gojo is writhing underneath you. It's like he's bigger than he was last time.
His hands aren’t at his throat but on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer, adding to all the weight that pulls you against him. Tight, hot, so, so fucking big.
“My knot,” You pant, half-feral with desire, “This is my fucking knot, Gojo, my dick, you don't put this in anyone else, do you hear me, ALPHA?"
There’s a rumble in his neck where he might be trying to answer you, but you ignore it in favor of bearing down on him. It's like all your breath leaves you in one big gasp, a whine escaping you as you finally pop the knot in.
You squeeze yourself, impossible, tight, feeling your whole cunt scream with the effort, the delicious stretch of a muscle pushed to its limit. You have him, you have him, you have him in you, all yours. Your core finally surges towards release at the feeling of being filled.
And then you look down at what you’ve captured, your alpha, teary-eyed, red-faced, eyes glazed over in bliss as his lips part to take a breath he can’t manage.
Cock burning inside you, hips bucking up, hands clutching you like a lifeline. Hands so uselessly large that his thumb can reach to roll over your clit.
All at once, you let go. Climax overwhelming you both, his first gasping breath painted with the sudden release.
You want to see his face while you do it, collapsing forward as your breath is stolen from you in waves of white-hot pleasure. Gojo lets out a high pitched noise that he probably shouldn’t be capable of, choking, crying.
“F-fuck,” He half-chokes, half-sobs, racing to clutch you to his chest.
You’ve never seen him so uncomposed, so helpless, your name on his lips, the six eyes blown wide and unseeing. Heat floods your insides as he releases, knot swelling impossibly larger. A squeak escapes you, and you press the side of your face into his toned chest as he holds you close.
You’re smaller than him – most people would be. It’s funny, feeling smaller in his arms. All the fight and fervor trickles away, slowly, like it’s making room for his cum.
Something terribly dark and feral inside you wants to rut against him and make him whimper more, now that he could hear it, but you don’t have the strength.
“Surprised you didn’t bite me,” He muses while he traces mindless patterns over your bare back.
“For what conceivable reason would I have bitten you during that?” His chest is warm, so warm. You’re not paying much attention to what you’re saying, just lazily snapping back at him for stating the obvious. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I literally choked you.”
“Hell yeah you did.” He rubs his cheek against your hair. “It was super hot. Do it again.”
Idiot. You try to ignore the hunger his words ignite inside you, the stupid glee you get from the thought that he likes it just as much as you do. “What, do you want me to bite you?”
“As hot as it would have been to see you take what you want,” God, his grin is just so annoying, and it makes your heart skip a beat, to see that fire in his eyes, “You’d probably feel all bad about it later or some crap. Like you trapped me or something. Which would be super hot, by the way. You have my permission to trap me at any time, especially if I’m sticking my dick in you.”
“Well, now I don’t want you at all,” You lie, blatantly, like a liar.
Satoru snickers, which really isn’t good for your heart. “What, because I’m such a kinky whore, you think I’ve been all used up already? Should I give myself some bruises and hickey sometime to really sell the fantasy?”
That gets an eye roll. “I didn’t degrade you enough while we were fucking, is that it? Had to pick up some slack yourself?”
“Heheh. You sure liked calling me a whore and a slut.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “What can I say, I’m just that good a lay. Always give the lady what she wants.”
“Sure.” And yet you still don’t have what you want from him.
“You’re the only person I’ve fucked like this, you know.” He says, more softly than he should.
It’s just so unfair. How he makes your heart stumble. How his little admission sends a trill of hope through you.
“Fucked how? During your rut?” He didn’t seem like the type to grin and bear the suffering.
“You know,” He shuffles again, “Like this. For fun.”
“What, I’m the only person you’ve let call you a whore? Choke you? Be more specific, Gojo,” The name tastes bitter in your mouth, “All the other times you just had to lie back and think of England?”
“Well, you’re the first person who’s fucked me that also called me Gojo, for one.”
He really has to ruin everything. “Just shut up. Nothing you say makes me feel better.”
Arms wrap tighter around your waist. “I mean it, though. I was looking forward to this. I never look forward to it. Letting down my technique, fucking some omega until I knotted them.”
You want to bite him, take a chunk out. Pull his hair and rip some of it out of his stupid empty skull. “Gojo –”
“No, listen.” And that’s a tone you haven’t heard before – low, commanding, an alpha’s demand. He hadn’t spoken to you like that once.
“I used to hate it, dread it. The long wait for my knot to go down before I could finally just leave and put everything back up again. Being stuck with some stranger in such an intimate position, feeling them touch me, it was the worst. The absolute fucking worst.”
He nuzzles his head into your neck, like he’s basking in your scent. “This, though? This is the best. I want to do this for every rut, forever.”
Another skipped beat, and that’s it. Your foolish, graceless heart can only drag you through so much humiliation and pining before you rip it out and stomp on it yourself.
“So what?” You lower your voice in return, hard and cutting, “Who says I want to spend all your ruts with you, Gojo?”
“Thought you didn’t do one-night stands.” He smirks at you. You want to punch him.
“What did you think this was?” Did he think you were pining for a relationship while he was just fucking it out? Sure, you were pathetic enough to want it, but you weren’t pathetic enough to expect it. Not on your fucking life.
But then.
There’s the answer, the “A public service for needy omegas~” or some other witty retort. You can already hear his voice ringing in your ears, playful and taunting.
But the sound doesn’t come. Nothing comes at all. Complete silence.
Gojo’s lean, muscled form has stiffened, now rigid against you where it had been relaxed. You can feel his hesitance rippling through the air. His scent is more sour than sweet. Spoiled.
“I thought… you wanted me.” You’ve never heard him sound so uncertain, so afraid. You’ve never heard Gojo sound afraid, period. “I was courting you, and you accepted my gifts, so I – ”
“When were you courting me?” You snap, even though you make the connection instantly. He had given you gifts. He’d spend time with you, given you something with his scent. Paid attention to your needs.
“This whole time?” He sounds like he’s starting to panic, now, “What did you think was happening? We’ve been flirting literally since the day I met you! I might not be the most traditional guy, but I got the important parts down!”
It doesn’t sound real, for Gojo to be freaking out like this. He turns you around so you can see his blue eyes, wide and wild with frustration, “Why did you think I gave you things with my scent and spent every spare hour in close quarters with you?”
“Because they were always accompanied with snarky remarks? Because you taunt me at every opportunity?” You say it straight to his face. “We literally insult each other every time we meet.”
“You like it, you tease me back!” He grouses, “You’re super into that, you fucked me anyways!”
“Yeah. I thought that was all you wanted.” You swallow. “You’re supposed to ask someone to court them, Gojo.”
“Of course you wanted me to court you. You seduced me when I pinned you down and then knocked me on my ass!”
You’re upset with him and all, but he’s just got this infuriating ability to make you laugh no matter what. “Most people would take that as a no.”
He’s smiling back. Beaming. His scent is clean, like just hearing you laugh made it all better, “But your answer isn’t a no. You li~ke~ me.”
“Not so much right now.” You look away. “So, what? I’m just a fool for not knowing what you wanted, when you never even told me?”
“I thought it was obvious.” You can hear the frown in his voice. “You’re a pretty proud person. What did you think I was doing when I gave you all those gifts?”
“You literally told me I was being needy. I figured you were mocking me.”
“But then why did you accept them?” His tone, laced with something awful in his scent, brings your gaze back to his face.
He looks kind of… heartbroken.
You can’t look at him long. “Because… I am needy.”
His arms reach up from your waist, cradling your back, pulling you against him. Chin tucked where your shoulder meets your neck. Face buried in your scent glands, just where he’d put a bite. If he – if he wanted you.
“When you finally admitted it, I thought I’d feel glad.” He sounds like he’s complaining, but your neck is wet. “You just have to steal away all my victories, huh? Can’t even let me win this one.”
Why is he acting so pathetic, like a wounded puppy, when you’re the one who admitted to being down so bad you’d accept even mockery from the person you wanted to get with?
And then he sniffles, like some teenage girl who just got dumped. “I thought you knew I liked you. I thought we were having fun. Teasing each other.”
“It was fun, that’s why I did it. I just…” You swallow. “I didn’t think it would mean anything more for you. You know by now that I – I like you a lot. Way more than normal. There is nothing normal about how much I want you. I didn’t think you wanted me the same way.”
“That’s literally the worst thing I’ve ever heard. You didn’t know I wanted you back?” There’s more wetness on your neck, but this is warm. The familiar touch of his tongue dragging over your scent glands.
Gojo takes a shuddering breath, and it occurs to you that he must be taking in your scent. “How could you even think that?”
“Why are you so upset?” His whining brings you back to life, just a little. Enough to be angry. “For – for fuck’s sake already, Gojo. Say it in as many words. I told you, the whole reason I thought so was because you never told me what you meant outright.”
Another sniffle. “You’re so mean. You know what courting is. You just like bullying me.”
His sniveling revitalizes you further. It’s easier, knowing he can be pitiful for you, too. “Say it, Gojo, or you’ll be just another notch in my belt.”
“And call me Satoru! How are we supposed to date if you don’t even call me by name?!”
“We’re not dating. Say it, say it right now,” You’re getting sick of his crap, “Or I will rip your dick off.”
You can hear it, again. Is that a promise? Just wait until I’m hard to do it.
And you can see it, actually, how it physically pains him not to say it.
Gojo says your full name, out loud, and you’re helpless at the sound. “I have romantic feelings for you. I would like to court you with the intention of marriage. Mating. Whatever.”
He just can’t let you win one, can he? And yet, you’ve never heard a better sound. It feels like a massive burden has been lifted from your shoulders. Your chest.
“Two full sentences of formality,” You muse, “Impressive.”
“Right?” He preens, “Lots of things about me are impressive. You’ll see while we’re courting.”
“You never fail to impress me with how much of a dumbass you can be, Gojo.”
“Satoru. And that’s not a yes. Hurry up and say yes! I know you wanted to bite me back there, you’re totally crappy at hiding it.”
You sigh. “I did. But you didn’t want to bite me, did you?”
A pause. You’re suddenly uncomfortably aware of how close his face is to your neck.
“I always want to bite you. Ever since I met you. Smelled you.” His tongue runs along your throat, so hot it almost feels like it burns. “You can’t tell because you’ve never seen a version of me that doesn’t want to sink my teeth into your neck.”
You swallow, and he purrs, kissing over your pulse.
“It’s okay, though. I can be generous.” And his voice is back to being annoying again. “Even when you’re so demanding. I can only jerk off to you, I can only stick my dick in you – gosh, you said not to cum unless I was inside you, right? You really signed yourself up for – ”
“Oh, fuck off, Gojo – ” You interrupt yourself, “ – Satoru. Are you sure you want to… I mean. I’m older than you, you know? By a lot. I don’t have some kind of pedigree, and – well, I mean. You know.”
You flush despite yourself, “I’m… demanding, I guess. I like to bully you, if you want put it that way.” He laughs. “I’m sure you have better prospects.”  
“Yeah,” A hand reaches up to stroke your hair. He pulls you so your face is pressed into his chest, so you can hear him purr for you. Loudly, now. “That’s why I’m courting you, first. Until you’re sure you’re my best prospect. Then I’ll mark you. Then you can mark me, and not even feel a little bit bad about it, after.”
It’s scary, you think, as the darkness creeps into your vision – just how accurate his prediction of you was. “You don’t think I’m… too needy?”
“I love that you’re too needy.” A kiss to the top of your head, “You look at me like I’m the thing you want the most you want in the whole world. Makes me crazy, how much you want me. I want you to bite me. Eat me whole. I want to open up my chest and shove you inside.”
A breath leaves you, mostly because he’s holding you too tightly. Just tight enough. “So you like that I’m obsessed with you. But do you like me?”
“Yeah,” He sighs, rubbing his cheek into your hair affectionately, “So much it’s kind of scary. You’re all I can think about most of the time. I would look forward to slipping you a little present all day. Then I’d get hard after watching you open it, and I’d have to rub one out. You have no idea how happy it makes me, just being near you.”
You’re quiet for a bit. All you can hear is his gentle purring, rumbling through his body and yours.
One of your hands finds one of his. “…you’ll be mine? My one and only? You won’t ever want anyone else?”
He squeezes. “Just you. You should be more worried about becoming my one and only. If I can’t jerk off or fuck anyone else, that’s all gonna be on you, baby.”
“I’m not particularly worried,” You yawn, “If you get to be too much, I’ll just choke you out again or something.”
You feel him start to twitch inside you, knot still stuck in your entrance – no way. He can’t be hard this soon, not when he hasn’t even finished –
“Hehe. Shouldn’t have said that unless you wanted to go again~!”
“Satoru!!”
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hotchner-edu · 4 months ago
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Descend | Aaron Hotchner
Synopsis: You and Jack plan out a surprise birthday party for Aaron, but it's hard to keep secrets while dating a profiler. — part 4 of (1 , 2 , 3 ... can be read as a standalone)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Younger (Of Age) F!Reader
Warnings: best friend's father trope, fluff, sassy jack hotchner, allusions to smut
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Your mind was running three miles a minute as you ramble out an endless list of party supplies and worries. Jack is sitting in the passenger seat as you drive, and you're being very careful as you brake (since Jack had once told you he'd get a concussion one day from your driving).
"Streamers, balloons... oh gosh, I hope that Aaron isn't called away for a case, could you imagine that?... Oh! Do you think we should get a cake from the bakery by 8th street? He liked the cupcakes I got from there... Fuck... his birthday is in two days, why did I wait so long to get supplies!" You speak rapidly, tapping the steering wheel anxiously as Jack queues up some songs.
Your best friend raises his eyebrows in amusement and shakes his head. "You have got to calm down. My dad will like anything you do for him. Hell, you could probably just text him 'Happy Birthday' and he'll be all smiles for the rest of the day."
"This is serious, Jack!" You huff with a small worried frown. "Birthdays are so complicated." A defeated groan falls from your lips.
"Just do what I do for Leah. I get her some flowers and take her to dinner for her birthday." Jack tries to placate you, smiling a bit boyishly as he talks about his girlfriend.
You snort softly and tease him playfully. "In other words... the bare minimum?" You joke and make a right turn into the party supply store parking lot.
"First of all, fuck you." Jack quips back lightheartedly, waiting until you park the car to flick your arm.
Despite Jack's insistence that Aaron wasn't expecting anything huge for his birthday, your best friend allows you to drag him around town as you raid store shelves and make numerous phone calls to local bakeries.
Unfortunately, your mind is a prolific river of anxieties as you are suddenly hit with the realization that you're dating a profiler of all people. When the next morning rolls around, your newest concern was that Aaron would catch on to your plans to throw him a surprise party.
It was nearing seven in the morning, and it was the day before Aaron's birthday. You couldn't sleep too well, the gnawing worries of things going askew tormenting you even as you rested, twisting your stomach into knots.
Feeling a tightening against your stomach, you blush a little as you look down and remember just where you were. You had decided to spend the night at Aaron's house again, and you both had stayed up quite late.
You feel a soft kiss being pressed to the back of your neck. "Are you up, sweetheart?" His gruff morning voice fills your ears as he pulls you even closer to his body.
"Mhm... you're up early too..." You mumble back and run your hand along his arm.
"Felt you twisting and turning." He grumbles back softly as he yawns a litte, shuffling for a moment before returning to his previous movements of kissing down your neck and back.
You smile softly and the butterflies in your stomach flutter as you speak lightly. "Do you have the day off today?"
You were torn. A part of you was hoping he would so that you could spend the day with him, but another part of you hoped he'd be at the office so you could go pick up his cake and his gift.
"I do. How should we spend it, I wonder..." He says almost mischievously, his warm hand laying flat against your stomach and rubbing it before sliding lower.
"Well, unless you want to wake Jack up..." you trail off and smile widely, teasing him back by stopping his hand.
He grunts, dipping his head to kiss and suck on the junction between your neck and shoulder. That was definitely going to leave a hickey. "We can be quiet." He mumbles against your skin.
"Horny old man." You grumble playfully.
Aaron chuckles deeply, voice still a bit rough from sleep as he moves to lean over you. "Yes, yes, now let me love you."
By the time you manage to escape Aaron's sinful temptations and addicting touch, it's closer to nine am. He decides to take a shower as you head down to start making breakfast after brushing your teeth.
When you step into the kitchen, you see Jack rubbing his eyes as he sits at the kitchen island. "For Christmas I want noise cancelling headphones and for you guys to soundproof the bedroom." He muses without even looking up at you, texting on his phone.
You cringe a little and mentally kick yourself. "I'm so sorry..."
Jack waves you off, yawning and stretching his arms above his head. "I'm just pulling your leg, I was able to fall back asleep. Besides, 's not like I haven't put you through the same."
You shiver a little at the memories of waking up to Jack's varying shenanigans in adjacent rooms during trips with your friend group. "I think we should both just gift each other noise cancelling headphones."
"Yeah... well I'm staying over at Leah's tomorrow night, so go crazy." He says, smiling as he gets another text from his girlfriend. "Oh, and speaking of tomorrow, did you need me to help set up for the party?"
You groan at the thought. Ideally, Aaron would be at the office for a couple of hours today so you could go pick up some things, and then be gone until the evening tomorrow so you could set up for the party.
"Still not sure about that... Aaron doesn't have work today, and I'm not sure about tomorrow either." Your tone is low as you start grabbing ingredients from the fridge.
Jack huffs, clearly understanding your dilemma. "I can try and get him out of the house tomorrow if he doesn't have to work. Have a father-son bonding day or something."
You nod and smile. "Yes, please." You smile appreciatively.
"You're on your own today though, Leah wants to get lunch with me." Jack says playfully.
"So your usefulness does have a limit." You quip back with a deadpan look.
Later in the day, you slip away to make a quick phone call after coming up with an idea to get Aaron out of the house.
"This is Dave." You hear the older man's voice ring out.
You clear your throat softly. "Hi Dave. It's me, I need a favor."
"Ah, I was wondering when I'd hear from you." David chuckles. "Is the party still happening tomorrow?" He asks kindly.
"Yes, it is. The rest of the team is still able to make it, right?" You ask softly, keeping your voice hushed as you can hear Aaron shuffling around downstairs.
"Yep, our schedules are cleared for tomorrow. Y'know, Aaron was rushing to finish his paperwork all week, he wanted to get the weekend off to spend it with you and Jack." He says with a teasing lilt in his voice.
You wince a little in guilt and sigh. "Ah... Well, actually... would it be possible for you to call Aaron into the office for like... two hours? I need to go pick up some things for him last minute."
"He's going to bite my head off, kiddo." David muses, sounding resigned to that fact already.
"You have seniority, you'll be okay." You say and chuckle.
You hear the man sigh a little before chuckling fondly. "Alright, I'll think of something."
Exhaling in relief, you thank the man profusely before hanging up.
You slowly retreat from the quiet room, almost walking directly into Aaron's chest as you close the door behind you. "Oh!"
"There you are, honey. What were you doing in the towel closet?" Aaron asks in amusement, curiosity filling his tone. You could see the gears in his head turning as he sees your phone in your hand.
"Phone call." You explain simply, leaning up to kiss him. "Also, Jack heard us this morning." You grumble and playfully smack his chest, trying to change the topic.
Aaron frowns a little at that and rubs your back. "He needs to move out." He says jokingly while maintaining his serious expression.
Chuckling, you pat his chest and shake your head. "Now, now, we both know you'd cry if that were to actually happen."
Luckily, Dave actually manages to come up with some excuse for Aaron to drop by the office not even an hour later. Your boyfriend is grumbling the whole time he gets ready, and you felt guilty seeing his mood drop.
"He said it'd be quick, right? Just in and out." You say softly, kissing him while fixing up his tie.
"Yeah... I'll be back soon, okay?" He reassures you, cupping your cheek and stroking his thumb across your soft skin. He gazes into your eyes before bringing you in for a deeper kiss. "I love you." He whispers against your lips.
"I love you, too." You whisper back with a giddy smile, leaning into him as he runs his hands down your body.
When Aaron finally makes his way out of the house and toward his car, Jack is getting back home from his date at the same time.
Jack looks at him in surprise and smiles a bit as he takes in his father's appearance. "Hey, dad. Going to work?"
Aaron nods and glances back at the house quickly. "Just for a bit. What time should I be out of the house tomorrow?"
Jack pauses and blanches. "Uh... what?"
"So Y/N has time to set up for the surprise party." Aaron answers with a fond grin, chuckling a bit to himself.
"You knew?" Jack deflates a bit and sighs.
"Yeah, I figured it out this morning." Aaron says, remembering the way you were lost in thought all day, with Dave's 'work emergency' call just confirming his suspicions.
Jack nods and smiles a bit in defeat. "Alright... Uhm, you should leave the house at like two tomorrow. Also, can you just pretend to be surprised tomorrow? She's been super stressed these past few days."
Aaron chuckles and nods, patting Jack on the shoulder before walking toward his car, speaking up a bit as he walks. "Don't worry, I was planning on it."
True to his words, and to your absolute cluelessness, Aaron plays up his delighted surprise the next day when his team members surprise him in his living room. Though, it wasn't too difficult considering how you and Jack had transformed the house in the time he was gone.
Seeing your beaming face across the room made going to the office all day worth it. As he thanked everyone for coming, he couldn't help but think about how he'd love to spend the rest of his birthdays with you.
As the night continues, genuine surprise colors his face when you finally give him your birthday gift to him after everyone settles down in the kitchen to eat.
He flips through the booklet you hand him with complete wonderment, looking at the various professional photos you had taken of yourself posed in lingerie. The photos looked like something straight out of a magazine, and your otherworldly beauty had his knees growing weak.
"Happy birthday, honey." You whisper sweetly into his ear, kissing his neck as his mind malfunctions for a moment. "Also... we have the house to ourselves tonight."
His hand moves down to grip your hip, softly groaning into your ear. "Is it too soon to tell everyone to get out of the house?"
You smile and kiss his jaw, pulling away from him and shaking your head. "Now, don't be like that. They're here to celebrate you after all." With that, you disappear into the kitchen as Aaron gazes after you in utter worship.
"Wicked, wicked woman." Aaron mumbles to no one in particular as he forces himself to go put the booklet away to rejoin the party.
He really couldn't wait for his next birthday.
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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 month ago
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AGATHA HARKNESS (mcu | agatha all along)
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“A Witch’s Bargain” (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader) and (mentioned Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader)
| Once you find out a witch as infamous and powerful as Agatha is seeking you out you decide to go to her before she can pull one over on you; an attempt was made.
| SFW, obeah, flirting, hints at immortality, reader has something going on with both Agatha and Rio, -caribbean!reader & witch!reader
| pic source: Agatha All Along (2024)
| Note, the Reader-Insert is speaking with an accent but I didn’t write the particulars of it down bcs that would’ve been a lot to parse through even for me. Also, happy less-than-forty days till Halloween!
| 2k+ words
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“Oh my,” you drawl, leant back against a large tree near Westview’s local psychic shop and nearly lost in its shadow, “this is…underwhelming.”
A whopping three people — only two witches, one of which was currently powerless — pause in front of you on the sidewalk, your words ringing even truer at the way the boy amongst them jumps at your abrupt entrance.
Lips pursed, you look him up and down with little favor. If this was to be the makings of Agatha Harkness’s “great coven” the pickings truly must’ve been slim.
The very witch you came to see turns to you, her hair falling into her face with the movement like she’s in some big brand shampoo commercial. Without another word, you watch on with an opposing stillness, your heart remaining steady.
Interesting.
For a woman you’d all thought dead Agatha looked well. Hair not clumpy, skin not worn or leathery. Even the way she held herself still bellied her comfort in mysticism, even dressed like a modern day woman as she was.
“Mm,” she hums shortly, turning in place with a few unhurried steps until she can cast narrowed eyes onto her apparent newest tag-along. Matching her stare head on you lean into the sun’s light a little more, your own thick curls brushing across a few low hanging branches where your hair is wrapped in cloth atop your head. “I don’t recall asking for an Obeah Woman,” she announces, tone bitingly light.
A scoff falls past your lips.
“And I didn’t expect the whispers for a coven would lead me to you, like this,” you twitch, letting your smile spread your plush lips thin, “broken and without your gifts.”
“I wouldn’t test me, New Girl,” she parries, and you hold your palms up in surrender.
Though your expression doesn’t sober.
The smile that rises to match your own in response to that is lopsided and sharp. Years worth of condescension she’d grown too used to falling back on without caution due to the magic coursing through her coming to the surface.
Agatha Harkness’s name in whispers had sent you into a fit at first — a witch of her caliber and age with your name on her mind never meant good — but looking at her now you could only tilt your head.
On the other hand, the boy with her seems eager to shake apart with laughter that grinds upon your nerves. Luckily, one look from the Salem veteran keeps him quiet.
Mostly.
In seconds she too is cackling, however — the boy’s muffled laughter acting as background noise — and you don’t bother stopping your sneer then.
“Oh, I see. You think you're hot shit,” she draws out, voice dropping an octave. “Don’t you operate a failing apothecary out of your apartment?”
Lips flattening, you step from the shadow, your face fixed without obvious malice to the best of your ability.
“It’s a side hustle,” you sniff. “And still better than being sentenced to 100 lashes and persecuted by the Danish; if I ever see the inside of a Christianshavn prison again I’ll frig up more than a few rum distilleries.”
“Of course. Now you just get persecuted by American Authority instead,” she says, the cut of her mouth sly.
With a flourish you wave her off. “Wretched as your worry is, it’s unneeded. Poison is no different than an elixir when you make it backwards.”
“Okay,” she simpers, shrugging herself, voice light and eyes never straying from your form as you glide closer over the concrete.
Powerless or not, something beneficial could surely come of making the occasional acquaintance of such a renowned woman.
Movement in your peripherals catches your attention though, and you stop moving to turn your head to find who you can only assume is the cause of your blight today.
Your sneer situates itself right back over your lips.
“Lilia,” you announce, the woman stops in her tracks and cuts you a brazen look out of the corner of her eyes. You take caution to only let your molars grind together for a second, releasing the tension in increments as your gaze narrows on her and you stand taller. “I should cut you down where you stand.”
The psychic huffs, shawl sliding a bit down the slope of her shoulder.
Slowly pulling the covering back into place she tuts at you, “Or…you could not. I mean, let’s face it, you would’ve been drawn here regardless of if I gave Agatha your name.”
“Unlikely,” you snap, words ground out like you’d rather spit on her than keep to something so civil as using mere words to express yourself.
And you would if you weren’t in such mixed company. Lilia was only meek when she was playing some angle after all.
You didn’t like anyone else making your moves for you, forcing you to speed up your timeline. Your own plans be damned.
“Witches, witches!” Agatha cuts in, holding her hands out to keep you and the psychic apart despite the way she’s only looking your way. “Let’s not tear each other apart just yet, hm?”
She eyes you from head to toe, taking her time to pan down as she takes in your flowing clothing and lightly clacking beads, before giving you a wicked look. “We wouldn’t want to mar anything too pristine before things really get interesting, now would we?”
Knocking your gaze to Lilia for a second you clock how she initially meets your glower, but keep your gaze steady regardless, just up until she finally twitches in discomfort. Only then do you ease up, tossing a grimace of a smile her way, before watching Agatha closely once more as the psychic wanders off somewhere out of sight with a few muttered curses you pay no mind to.
Meanwhile, Agatha’s expression has changed, having lost its begrudging appraisal and turned furrowed.
You raise your brows, “Harkness?”
She squints, obscuring fine cut hazel.
“I know you, don’t I?”
“Ah,” you grin without teeth, shoulders shaking, “so you can’t tell your porridge from your oats either I see.”
She rolls her eyes.
“The ‘wise sage’ act is very annoying, I have to tell you. It’s really ruining an otherwise beautiful package and I think you should work on that.”
“Should I?”
“That’s what I just said.”
“Oh, alright,” you examine your bare nails, twisting your wrist this way and that to get a ‘better’ view of your cuticles, “you’ll have to put the request in with my secretary first, though, I fear.”
Agatha’s pet’s head pops up from over her shoulder, his face screwed up, “You have a secretary? …No offense.”
Sighing, you drop your hand back to your side and make a point of rolling your eyes hard enough to nearly make yourself dizzy.
“No. I don’t,” you tell him finally, though you don’t look away from the actual witch in front of you even as you do.
Immediately after you raise your brow at Agatha, however, “As for you, you know full well that I’m better than any sage, and that passing me up would be a waste when you need a potion maker. Regardless, no we haven’t met, but your backside is just as unpleasant as people describe.”
“Hm,” she hums in agreement, moving to toss her round brunette curls around to her back with a wink in your direction, “unpleasantly beautiful, you might say.”
“Worthless more like it,” you correct.
Agatha stops putting on her little show so quickly you might as well have just lashed her across the face.
Briefly, her eye spasms, “Watch it.”
“I might,” you say, “so long as you prove me wrong. Now, if we could get back on track.”
“Huh,” she scoffs, glaring at you now. “Fine. How bout’ this, unless you can make an elixir to make me invincible from every witch closing in on me, then scram. I’m dealing with enough ameatures as is.”
Head thrown back for a second, you laugh, letting your fervor echo throughout Lilia’s forever vacant parking lot.
“Oh, make no mistake, Harkness, I can do that...” you say eventually, voice easy in a way that gives the other woman pause. You jerk a brow up, briefly mirroring the way her interest seems to physically jump up to stare at you, “…for a price.”
Gaze finally brightening she moves to knock her male companion on the shoulder, gesturing your way afterwards before plastering a much “nicer” smile on her face.
“Teen’s got the money. Give the woman whatever she wants, come on.”
“Oh no, I don’t want money,” you cut in with a flick of your hand at the grabble she’s making for the boy’s wallet.
Agatha pauses in the middle of silently arguing with Teen, glancing your way from her slightly bent position.
“—You don’t?”
“I might not call myself a witch, but that in no way means I’m confused as to what you witch them does do.” You get closer to her, and how she straightens to meet your advance makes you preen. “I want a favor. A binding one.”
“As if,” the boy cuts in with, “A witch of her caliber doesn’t do binding spells, they’ll only hinder her.”
Oh my—
“You well fucking rude,” you say distastefully, giving him a harsh look. Irritatingly, his forward ass only lays his hand over his heart with a gasp.
For her part all Agatha does is laugh, knocking you lightly on the shoulder as if you’ve told a particularly funny joke, and taking you right out of your stare down. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Dear. Cause you sure are delusional.”
She snorts.
You suck your teeth.
This back and forth routine was getting far more tiresome than you’d anticipated.
“The only lucky one here is you,” you deadpan.
She opens her mouth to respond, that same dismissal in the curve of her mouth, but then pauses. Expression twitching, she leans even closer to you to inhale.
Frowning, you pull your upper half away from her.
“What—?”
“—I should’ve known,” Agatha exclaims lowly, pointing her finger at you. “You reek of her plague, that's why you seemed so familiar. What have you been dabbling in, I wonder, to smell so thoroughly of Rio? Joining her plot against me?”
You shake your head, looking away from her. You’d only hung around Vidal for the same reasons you were hanging around Agatha: to gain connections and, better still, favors you could cash in on if you ever found yourself in a bind due to your own ventures.
You hadn’t been lying earlier when you’d said you’d start making drastic moves if you saw the inside of a cell again, you didn’t care where it was. You’d burn it all down until they had to put you down before you’d waste away imprisoned ever again.
“Absolutely not. Whatever melee that went down between you two is yours alone. All I’m worrying about is my deal.”
To the displeasure of your heightening pulse, however, Agatha doesn’t just look passingly interested or even admiring any longer. She looks like she’s been given a puzzle, and like she likes it.
“Too late,” she chirps, fluttering her lashes, “Rio is far too picky about the company she keeps alive for your involvement to be left unexplored.”
Hand coming up, she runs her nails along your jaw. You stave off a flinch from the ticklish sensation her touch elicits. “You’ve taken on too potent a poison, Darling, situating yourself in the middle of our fight,” Agatha finishes, clicking her tongue, before walking her digits back up the umber expanse of your skin to press the pads of them into the hinge of your jaw.
You swallow roughly, hope she can’t hear it.
Agatha smiles, pressing in until she can force you to meet her eyes again. They’re roving, almost manic when paired with her smile.
“Yes,” she breathes, eyes alight. “Maybe I do need an Obeah Woman after all. We’ll be going to the Witch’s Road, won’t you come with?”
No. It’s on the tip of your tongue. The feel of Rio’s blackened energy still a hot, sizzling brand across your lips.
One deal had been made already, yes, but were you sure about pursuing this one as well with the inevitability of getting caught in the middle of a centuries old rivalry so probable?
Unfortunately, your, “Fine,” slips past your lips before you can stop yourself, and rather than deal with the indignity of walking your agreement back you stay quiet.
Watching for her move. Reasoning with yourself that there were still benefits here despite this new hiccup, if only you played your cards right.
She doesn’t make you wait long.
A shiver rises over you as her presence does the same, her steps carrying her till there’s hardly a whisper between your bodies. Even without her magic, being this close to Agatha Harkness allowed her to snake herself across your soul same as Rio Vidal had when you’d also unintentionally peaked her curiosity a while back.
“Wonderful,” she coos, the pad of her thumb gliding up your cheekbone as her hazel bores deep into your brown, “let’s see about that deal then.”
Dammit to hell; this had better be worth whatever Agatha and Rio’s combined interest would do to you.
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!
Fun fact, actually, I wrote this when I’d only watched episode two up until Agatha and Teen left Lilia’s place, and so didn’t know that Jen (gorgeous as she is) would be who they went to for poisons (or that that was in any way a requirement in the first place) so that was a fun little coincidence. Otherwise, the setting of this oneshot I just pulled out of my ass fr.
Also, character motivations are a bit funky but I can’t pinpoint the exact reason and really want to post this tonight so we’ll all have to deal.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!
Caribbean word of the day (i.e.,the glossary): “Frig” - an alternative way to say ‘fuck’. so ‘frig up’ = ‘fuck up’.
“Melee” - drama or gossip.
*remember, though, that dialects are regional so the words in this glossary aren’t used by every caribbean* 
EDITED: 9/26/24 & 10/26/24 (after s1ep7 I’m even more in love w/ Rio now)
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sukunasweetheart · 3 months ago
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sukuna knowing the flowers name in the newest chapter⁉️knowing poetry too⁉️ just IMAGINE
loverboy!sukuna saying the most romantic things with the straightest face.
loverboy!sukuna not having a clue about why you can't seem to look him in the eye after.
loverboy!sukuna letting himself be dragged to a garden in the middle of the night.
loverboy!sukuna telling you about every single flower even after he said didn't want to be there.
I NEED HIM
wow loverboy sukuna........ you have moved me.
he'd place his hand over yours, and tell you that your eyes resemble a certain flower type, and then be confused on why you look so flustered.
sukuna tucks your hair behind your ear, removes a fallen petal or leaf off your head without thinking, only then to be faced with how astounded you look about his delicate gesture; a gesture that simply just came to him naturally.
one thing about sukuna is that if there's anything he wants to do in the moment, he will do it without hesitation.
he tells you how much he hates weak things and people, but theres a certain charm in the fragility that you have, and it's difficult to articulate, even for a man who has his way with words, like sukuna. and he won't tell you this part, but you occupy his mind often, like a persistent fog in the back of his brain - the type of fog you'd spend ages endlessly wandering around in - he can never seem to leave the mist behind, but he's not so sure if he really wants to anymore.
sukuna is also the type of man to say something so profoundly beautiful and poetic in the spur of the moment, even if he himself doesn't really realise it. but then in the next second, he'll ruin it by saying something more sinister in the same breath. he could tell you the names of flowers and all their meanings, but then say that flowers are useless and bothersome things, they don't last long, and the residue they leave behind when they wilt are troublesome to deal with.
(he believes that if he were to gift you things, he would want them to hold more permanence in your possession).
loverboy sukuna is ironically bad at saying 'i love you' but he will say - or do - a million other things that hold the same exact meaning.
he'll tell you that if heaven was a person, the closest thing to it would be you.
and when you fall asleep around him, he will patiently, observantly, count the number of lashes that adorn your two eyes.
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tqmies · 11 months ago
Text
In Disguise
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Description. Desperate and broke, your trio of nerdy friends offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Things are normal at first until you abruptly come across a camera tripod facing Doyoung's bed. Were your awkward friends really just camboy's in disguise?
Pairing. Kim Doyoung x Yuta Nakamoto x Kim Jungwoo x Fem Reader
Genre. SMUT, Camboy!AU, College!AU, Roomates! MDNI!
Warnings. Foursome (Do I even have to say it?), Unrealistic depictions of sex overall, A little MxM action, Fingering, Oral, Condoms taken off, Plan B mentioned, Voyeurism, Creampie, Degradation, Praise
Word count. 13K (oh...)
Note: This was supposed to be out ages ago but I'm proud (not rlly) to present this mess of a wet dream!
"You have no idea how grateful I really am." You state, placing down your last box into the vacant room. You sigh in relief as your back was literally killing you too much to drag another box up. And that was that the boys had helped you with a majority of it.
"You've said it a million times, I think we know." Yuta teases, opening the box on your bed as he shuffles through it. It was old books you had brought from your place, well a few of the tons you had. Most of them had to go into storage due to lack of room at your newest living arrangement.
Truthfully, you felt really bad about this whole thing, even though Yuta kept assuring you it was alright, all the boys did. But something felt terrible about rooming with your friends for free, and kicking Yuta out of his room at that.
The boys didn't want you to feel weird about sharing a room, so Yuta slept in the same room as Jungwoo for the time being, and that made you feel even worse.
"You can have your room back, I promise I can sleep on the couch."
"Then where would you put your stuff?"
And you had pretty much lost the argument then and there, but you were determined to make up for rent in other ways. You'd clean, do laundry, and cook a few of the meals you had mastered. You could buy groceries and maybe even pay the water bill every once in a while. Not that you planned to stay here for long, only until you found another job, seeing as the one you had rapidly started laying people off.
Which brought you back to square one, Yuta’s bed.
Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter!
"I'm home!" Jungwoo announces as you hear the front door shut, his loudness already alerting you. You heard the loud clank of his keys on the counter, and his footsteps making their way towards you.
"We just finished bringing all the boxes up." Doyoung comments, giving Jungwoo a much deserved side eye.
"Oh I made it just in time then."
Jungwoo came bearing gifts though, handing out bottles of water to you guys. "I got them from one of the tents on campus, here's a shirt too!"
And before you know it, you're being hit in the head with the shirt Jungwoo threw at your face. You throw it off as you jokingly threaten him. "I'm going to crack your glasses in half Kim Jungwoo."
The male cowers in fear as he scurries off to his room, shouting behind his shoulder. "Do you guys wanna see what I'm working on?"
Doyoung jumps up, always eager to divulge in Jungwoo's nerdy projects. "Sure."
"I'm designing a supersonic VTOL fighter jet!" The engineering major says, lugging his laptop towards you all, showing you some prints on his screen. They're blueprints and sketches, and random little notes on the side, but you really can barely tell what you're looking at.
It's not that you were dumb, you were actually a very decent student. But the men in the room with you? Jungwoo was a mechanical engineering major, which said enough. Yuta was pre-med studying to be a doctor, and Doyoung? He's here on a full ride scholarship studying computer science.
So, for lack of better words, you were the dumbest in the room.
Not that you cared anyways, the boys never made you feel less than or anything because of your simple major. You also took pride in it, sure you weren't designing future airplanes or developing software, but it was enough for you.
"Looks cool, but you should widen the wingspan, I see possible blockage through the-" Doyoung starts on with his commentary.
"Yuta! Do you want to help me start cooking?" You ask, the male seemingly uninterested in the plane, and you could relate. He nods and follows you to the kitchen, adjusting his frames.
After checking their fridge for ideas, you start filling a pot with water to boil some pasta in, directing Yuta to start chopping up some garlic. He follows directions well, as one would expect, and does as he's told.
"How did your mid-term go?" Yuta breaks the silence, referring to the grueling test he had helped you with.
"Fine, I got an 80." You reply, measuring out more pasta.
Yuta raises a brow as he places the knife down. "An 80? But we studied all week."
"Yeah but some of the questions were hard, I didn't remember." You say, and you were truly satisfied with your grade. Sure you had studied, but not everyone retained information as easily as your friends, and they were still having trouble learning that you weren't going to get a 100 points every time.
Yes the boys had extreme book smarts, but they lacked a little street smarts sometimes. They were less empathetic and more clear cut, but you knew they meant well. Though it didn't mean their lack of social cues hurt any less though.
Sometimes you wonder how you had even befriended them. Especially Doyoung, who was usually no nonsense and short worded on campus. But it could all be traced back to Jungwoo.
It was back in freshman year, and on your very first day of class. You had rushed in, confused to see that they had already started without you, which was weird seeing as your class wasn't supposed to be in session for another thirty minutes. You had just waved it off as an accident and sat down, right next to Jungwoo.
During a break, he had introduced himself and asked you if you were excited for Math 2414, and inquired about what your major was.
That was when you realized in horror that you were in Calculus, and not Pre-calculus. No wonder they had already begun, it was the wrong class! And you were not trying to take anything beyond what was required for your degree. "So this isn't pre-calculus?"
"No, I took that in high school! You didn't get that out of the way already?" He had asked, and just then did you realize what kind of person you were dealing with.
You had explained the situation to Jungwoo to which he was really understanding, offering to show you your actual classroom for your next class day. You had agreed, and then by some coincidence, you had run into Jungwoo a few days later. Catching up with him and mentioning you were having trouble with a certain concept already, to which he had offered his help.
You had started having sessions regularly, and Jungwoo had invited you to study with his group of friends, which is where you met the others.
Despite them being a little intimidated by you (And vice versa), you had all got along well, and you were thankful for that. Despite not having great social skills, they were actually a lot less complicated to deal with. They spent a majority of their time studying or doing school work, burying their noses in books. And if not? Then they're playing a computer game Doyoung designed, or testing if Jungwoo's rocket model could fly in the middle of a JCPenny parking lot.
They didn't have a lot of drama either, and you were sure they'd be simple enough to live with. Come to think of it, it's always been tidy whenever you've visited. Jungwoo's bed was always made and Doyoung's desk always clean. Yuta's was exceptionally organized too, even donning some expensive looking anime figures in displays on his shelf.
They were such nerds.
You snort to yourself as you pour the sauce onto the plates, food ready to be eaten. Funny enough, you hadn't even had to call the boys. Yuta had helped you but Doyoung and Jungwoo had hounded the kitchen counter and talked your ear off, both excited for a home cooked meal. Apparently, none of them could cook very well and they usually opted for take out, so this was a relief.
"You guys literally had all the ingredients already." You giggled as you sat down on the small table they had in their apartment.
Jungwoo shakes his head. "Doesn't matter if you don't know how to make anything out of them."
"Thank you by the way, this is really good." Doyoung nods, and by the way he scarfed down half of it already, you'd say he's telling the truth.
"Slow down, you'll choke." Yuta says concerned before his expression changes into a different one. "Wait, you should choke! I can finally practice my CPR on a real person!"
"Well if you haven't practiced on a human yet, I don't think I can trust you." Doyoung shoots him a glare.
"You're hindering my first-aid progression." Yuta narrows his eyes as he takes a bite of his food. The air grows quiet as you voice out what had been weighing on your mind.
"So, any plans for tonight?" You ask, wondering what you're going to get up to a Saturday night. You had a long week, especially since you had woken up on Monday to an eviction notice, so you'd say you could use some time out.
"Hm? Probably start looking over my lobotomy notes for my lecture next week." Yuta responds, earning a chorus of acknowledgment from the other males.
"O-okay, Doyoung?" You ask, but you think you can already guess too.
"I'm beta testing this program my friend just finished, probably'll take me all night." He speaks, attention on his food.
You deflate, looking towards Jungwoo. "Nice, and you?"
"Putting my blueprints into a 3D maker and drafting up a scale model of it." He says, and you take note of how he looks excited about it.
This was quite a turn from what you were used to, you had to remind yourself that these weren't your typical college guys. Yet, you could feel your left eye twitching slightly. "Guys! It's a Saturday night."
"Mhm?" Doyoung replies, his eyebrows furrowed, like the day didn't change anything.
You scoff, "So what, no frat parties? No bar hopping?"
You're met with blank looks, the men looking utterly confused as Jungwoo shakes his head, unfamiliar with both scenes. "No?"
You sigh, facing the fact that you're going out solo. You could probably text a few of your other classmates to meet up wherever you went.
"You guys do that, I'm gonna go get laid tonight." You shrug, getting up to put your dish in the sink. "Yuta you can sleep in your bed if you want."
"Wait- Where are you gonna go?" Jungwoo asks, following you to the kitchen with furrowed brows.
You shrug. "I don't know, maybe a club? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. If I get home before morning then I'll just crash on the couch."
"If?!" Jungwoo's eyes widen at the prospect of you being out all night.
You place a hand on his shoulder. "I have a key, don't wait up."
And he stands there shocked, the other two watching as you head to your room to shower and change your outfit. You had a long night ahead of you.
Even afterwards, when you had stepped out in
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You try your best to quietly open the front door, met with only pitch black darkness as you assume everyone was asleep. It was two in the morning, and in their defense, you did tell them not to wait up.
Slipping your heels off, you step quietly towards the couch. You peel your tight dress off and realize you have nothing to change into, and you weren't going to wake Yuta to just grab a shirt. Luckily for you, there was a blanket you could cover yourself with, so you discarded the bra as well, thankful that at least you had worn shorts under your dress tonight. You sigh as you lay down, head still spinning as you come down from earlier.
You had succeeded in your quest of getting laid, thoroughly being manhandled by a guy named Mingyu who went to a neighboring university. The sex was actually pretty decent, but it could've been better. You had wanted someone to bend you into a pretzel and fuck you until your legs were rendered useless for the next week. And he just couldn't provide that. Maybe you'd have to trust in your rainbow dildo from now on.
You brush the thoughts to the back of your mind as you finally find sleep, eyes fluttering shut.
You swear, it felt like you were asleep for all of two seconds when you hear the blaring alarm clock from one of the rooms. Followed by the sound of things being knocked over.
Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, hangover hitting you hard, but your eyes are drawn to frantic looking Yuta running around the apartment out of his room. He moves over a few things on the dining table quickly and you watching confusion.
"Where are they?" He mutters to himself, throwing some things in the kitchen around as well.
Sitting up, you rub your eyes as your vision adjusts. "What're you looking for?"
"Just my- Oh, where is your shirt? Why are you naked?" He rambles, covering his eyes as he turns around.
You hadn't even noticed that the blanket you used to cover yourself all night had slipped down, accidentally revealing at least part of your boobs to Yuta. "I slept like this because I didn't want to barge into your room to grab a shirt, sorry. I'll go do that now!"
You get up and scramble to the room, feeling so shitty at making Yuta uncomfortable. Opening the drawer, you slip on the first shirt that's there. You don't even look at it before you're rushing out and apologizing profusely to Yuta. "It's only my first morning here and I've already flashed you."
"Is that my shirt?" He asks, eyes wide and your look down to confirm that it was, in fact, Yuta's shirt.
"Oh! And I stole your shirt, I'll wash it and put it back! I really am sorry, I'm just so hungover right now." You hang your head in shame as the words slip out.
"No! No, really it's fine." Yuta dismisses as he waves his hands. "I found my keys so I have to go now, see you when I get back!"
And with that, he's out the door, face tinted red.
God, you were a fool! Sighing in defeat, you make your way to your room, slipping off the shirt and trading it out for one that was yours.
What you didn't know was that Yuta was still standing on the other side of the front door, mind reeling as he replays the mental image of your nipples peaking through the fabric of one of his shirts. He didn't think you'd be giving him this much trouble already! It was the first morning!
Back inside, you're gathering clothes to take a shower. Jungwoo opens the door to his room, unexpectedly rushing out as well, saying he had somewhere to be as he's unable to meet your eyes. You had no idea everyone would be so busy this morning. Was it usually like this? You shrug, too tired and ready to be met with steaming hot water as you bid him goodbye.
After your shower, you not surprised to see Doyoung up as well, sitting near the kitchen as he munches on a banana. You can see his computer in front of him displaying some kind of code, and he doesn't look like he got a wink of sleep. Did these boys ever take a break?
"Good morning Doyoung." You yawn, making a bee line for the coffee machine. You grab a K-Cup and try to figure your way around the machine as you fail to notice Doyoung's stare.
"Oh, Morning." Doyoung finally gives a greeting back, thankful that your back is facing him right now with the way the blood was rushing to his face. Now, Doyoung wouldn't say he was a pervert or anything, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were glued to your shorts.
You break him out of his spell when you turn around, coffee mug in hand. You're frowning, "Why's everyone so busy today?"
"It's like that everyday, we rarely see each other in the mornings." Doyoung explains, keeping his composure still as he tries not to let his eyes wander. He's not stupid, he knew it'd be a little difficult to live with someone as hot as you, but he figured he could handle himself.
"Oh that's too bad, I wanted to make everyone breakfast." You speak, turning around to open the cabinets, unaware how Doyoung's eyes shot straight back to your ass. "So, how was your night?"
"I-it was alright, and yours?" He asks while he clears his throat, already semi-aware of your ventures that you had announced.
"Can't say it was any better." And you leave it at that as you sigh. What could you mean by that? Did you not get laid? With an ass like that?
"Oh.. Well, I have a meeting with my professor in twenty so I have to get going soon." He nods, and you just about lose your mind.
"On a Sunday?"
"Computers work on Sunday's too."
God, what was he on about? "Okay Doyoung, see you later then."
Weirdly, you felt the least your friends could do was amuse you. But so far, you were beginning to realize that they're likely this busy all the time, between their schooling and internship jobs, they were packed.
Speaking of jobs, it was time to start looking.
..
Eight online job applications later and you're about ready to move to the woods and start living like a cave woman off the grid. No money, no bills, and no rent. Sadly, you were too accustomed to running water to let that happen though.
So you decide to drop off an application at a promising job near you, before hitting the inevitable brick wall. You don't have a printer.
Surely one of the boys had to have one, right?
Wrong, it seemed as you looked into Jungwoo's room. It felt weird to just peep in there, but you didn't want to bother him by texting since you knew he was busy. Unfortunately, you were already aware that Yuta didn't have one either.
Which left you with peeping into Doyoung's room. Maybe if you had just, I don't know, used the printer available at your college campus, you wouldn't have discovered such a life altering sight.
Yet, for some reason, that possibility didn't cross your mind as you swung the door open. And you felt like your jaw hit the floor as you stared ahead almost immediately.
Positioned right above Doyoung's bed, was a camera.
And not just any camera, an ultra HD expensive looking one, and that said a lot seeing you knew nothing about cameras. To make matters worse, it was held by a tri-pod. Could it be any more obvious?
You close the door as you stand, feet plastered to the floor in horror. What the hell was Kim Doyoung doing with a classic porn set up in his room? Kim Doyoung?! The nerdy TA who ran from woman that were just trying to ask him class-related questions? The male who grimaced at any sight of public of public affection? The one who rolled his eyes in annoyance when others made dirty jokes?
That Kim Doyoung was making porn?
Yeah right, you could almost laugh at that.
There had to be another reasonable explanation, right? You had known Doyoung for a while now, and he definitely didn't even seem like a man who was too keen on pre-marital sex, there was just no way he was filming it.
You doubt he even watched porn, that's how busy and wound up he seemed. There was no way on this green earth that he was doing that. But that doesn't explain what the camera was doing there.
You had to find a way to connect this to his nerdy computer job or you were going to go crazy.
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You got home around five in the afternoon after dropping off the finally printed application, and picking up a few things, like toilet paper and laundry soap, that you had noticed missing around the apartment. Mostly just buying yourself time to get over the weird thoughts you were having now.
You doubt you'd be able to look Doyoung in the eye without crumbling, so you text your friend Mark if you can crash on his couch, he lives closer to campus anyways. He responds almost immediately with a sure dude, and you decide you'll stop by the house to pick up pajamas.
You don't expect anyone to be home as you unlock the door, but of course, everyone was home. All of them gathered in the living room with takeout boxes as Jungwoo spots you. He holds one up, "We didn't know when you'd be home, but we ordered for you."
You smile as you thank him, opening the box to reveal your favorite dish. You hadn't explicitly told them lately, but they had remembered? That makes your heart swell for your friends a bit as you spot Doyoung out of the corner of your eye. Oh, right.
"Actually, I have to go do this thing tonight." You lie. "So I just stopped by to get some clothes."
"Really? Is everything okay?" Yuta inquires as you nod. And it's as if there's no awkwardness from him after the incident this morning either, so you're grateful for that.
"I'm fine, I'll be home tomorrow." You explain.
"Well, could you spare a minute to eat with us?" Jungwoo pouts, and you find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself. You were always a little weak for him.
If Doyoung notices your odd behavior as you sit by him, he doesn't say a word about it. In fact, everyone seems to go about their business. Everyone filling you in on how busy their days were and asking about what you had been up to.
"Oh, I left the bags by the door, but I bought some stuff we needed."
"You're an angel." Jungwoo comments. "I was scared I was going to have to use napkins instead of toilet paper again."
"That's so gross Jungwoo." Yuta reconciles and you all laugh in agreement.
"So, you'll be gone all night then?" Doyoung asks, bringing your attention back to him. Your eyes dart to his hands, right as he twirls the noodles around his chopsticks. Sure you were still wondering a little about the camera situation, but it wasn’t like that right? Though you can’t help but notice how pretty his hands were. 
His fingers were long, and you couldn’t help but imagine how they wrapped around his own cock. If he filmed anything, would he jerk off and beg his viewers to let him cum? Or was he more dominant, shoving his thin fingers into a flashlight as he spoke nasty words, or maybe even in another girl. The visual alone is enough to get you hot and bothered. But you shake yourself out of it, this was the dorky comp-sci major you lived with, you should not be thinking about him like that.
"Yeah, I'm working on a project with Mark, figured I'd just spend the night since we have the class together in the morning." You put together, pretty impressed with how well the lie was coming out.
"Mark?" Yuta raises a brow, the name familiar to him. "Like the hockey player?"
You nod, curious. "You know him?"
"Not really, just know he's a jock."
You catch his implication. "Well, he's not like that. Plus, he's my friend so you guys shouldn't worry, not like I'm spending the night with a stranger."
Jungwoo grows uncharacteristically quiet. "Oh."
..
"So Jungwoo's being fucking weird, Doyoung might have an onlyfans, and Yuta's saw your boobs?" Mark parrots back as you two sit on his living room couch, he's shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side to the other as he thinks. His brows furrow in concentration as he cooks up a response.
"Exactly."
Haechan, your friends roommate and fellow hockey teammate, laughs loudly as he enters the room. "And it's only your second day living with them?"
"Told you the losers would be a lot to handle." Mark shrugs, and you roll your eyes. These two didn't have the greatest impression of your other three friends, reducing them down to the nerds everyone thought they were.
"I didn't see you offering me a room," You defend. "Plus, they're super easy to live with so I don't have much else to complain about."
"You could always just share a bed with me." Haechan smirks, and you fake gag. "Your room smells like shit."
"Hey!"
"Anyways, I'd rather live with my beloved nerds than with you two sleazes." You state truthfully, scrunching your nose.
"Doyoung might be slinging his dick on camera, yet we're the sleazes?" Mark giggles, and you hit him in the arm.
"I don't think that's the case but, is there any other explanation?" You groan, stealing a chip from a bag hidden on Mark's side. He swats at your hand as you grab another one.
"He could just be into filming." Haechan offers, joining you two as he pops open a soda. And you ponder if Doyoung's ever been seen with a camera before.
You shake your head, doubting it. "He's never mentioned anything like that."
"Well running from him, and the rest of your roommates, is just going to make them think you're ungrateful. It'd be better to just confront them now and get over it." Mark advises, and the other male agrees.
Haechan places his soda down. "Why does it matter anyways? What Doyoung does in his apartment is no one else's business."
"Well-" You stop yourself as you look down. "I don't know."
"What's up?" Mark says at the shift in your attitude.
You hadn't confronted it yet, but the though of the things Doyoung did on his bed with his camera running? You hated that you wanted to see it. You hated that you ran with the implication of him having a scandalous hobby, and that you wanted a front row seat.
"I don't know, even with those wire-frame's and all, I think he's kind of cute." You admit begrudgingly, leaning back into the couch in embarrassment.
"Oh my God," Haechan sits up. "The thought of him doing that has you all hot and bothered! That's what it is, it's not even about him actually doing it, its about you thinking he is."
"And you're just having trouble grappling with your feelings." Mark shrugs as he pops a chip into his mouth, lollipop stick discarded.
You cover your face with your hands. "Stop.."
Mark sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Don't hate the messenger."
"Okay sure, Doyoung's nice to look at but if anything, I'd be more into Jungwoo." You reveal, and it's true. If there's anyone in the house you'd like in that way, it'd be Jungwoo. You two just had a better connection, even if he'd be acting different lately.
"In a weird science-y kind of way?" Haechan tilts his head before groaning. "Why him when you could have the hottest frat boy on campus?"
"There you go again." You glare, knowing instantly that he was referring to Lee Jeno's crush on you. You know full well the two in front of you were rooting for their friend. They also thought you were too attractive to be hidden behind stuffy scholars all day. And sure, Jeno was sweet, and easy on the eyes, but you just weren't into him. "Stop trying to set me up."
"Worth a shot."
"Anyways, I think instead of just hiding here." Mark narrows his eyes. "You should go home and explain everything, that way you don't continue scuttling around out of nervousness."
"And admit that I thought about Doyoung in that way?" You exclaim, face palming. "Mark, that's a terrible plan."
"You don't have to say all that," Mark crosses his arms in retaliation. "Just talk about Jungwoo's behavior and clear the air with Yuta."
You hang your head in defeat. "Can I at least wait until tomorrow?"
"Nope. Now."
You plead as you caught off guard by his insistance. "But Mark-"
"He said now." Haechan repeats, grinning at your misery.
"Oh so now you two agree?" You scoff in disbelief. Those two loved to argue about everything, but of course they could team up against you.
Mark nods, pointing to the door. "Go before it's past their bedtime."
"Don't be ridiculous Mark." Haechan feigns seriousness before he chuckles. "They have to tuck each other in first."
"You two are so annoying." You mutter as you pack up your bag. Shooting the two endless glares as you slip your shoes on.
Thirty minutes later and you're at the front door of what is now considered your home. Even when it was just your friends, you had never felt this nervous entering it before. You take a deep breath in as you stick the key in the lock, ready for confrontation.
You're met with chatter in the living room, relieved that they were still up, at least you wouldn't be waking them. You close the door behind you quietly as you take your shoes off and make your way to the living room.
You take a deep breath as you round the corner. "Hey, I'm back-"
You freeze in your place at the sight before you. It seriously seemed liked your friends had been abducted by aliens. There was no way the image before you was real. Your eyes widen as your jaw slacks, "What. The. Fuck."
Your met with three pairs of eyes staring back at you, Yuta standing up from the couch first. "I-I thought you were going to be gone all night."
You stay still from shock, brain trying to come up for any reasonable explanation as to why your friends looked liked male strippers right now. "You...You're Yuta?!"
Yuta looks taken aback. "Just with a little makeup."
Just a little? Yuta looked completely transformed, his hair gelled back nicely instead of awkwardly parted down the middle. The black glasses and collard shirts traded out for thick rings and painted nails. He looked like a rock star, and was that a tattoo?
"We can explain." Doyoung awkwardly looks down. Your knocked out by the sigh of him as well. Gone is his usual stern put-together look, instead he's donning smoky eye shadow with layered gold necklaces as his dark hair messily frames his face. He's wearing a sleeveless shirt, and that catches you heavily off guard as he usually only wears loose fitting clothes. He had been hiding those toned arms the entire time?
You take a step back. "How do you plan on explaining why it looks like I just stepped onto the set of Magic Mike?"
Your eyes finally meet the quiet boy who had been on your mind recently, Jungwoo. And to say he looked stunning would be an understatement. He was wearing a cropped shirt that showcased his toned abs as he stood up, the red color of it contrasting to his skin perfectly. His eyes looked striking, and he's wearing dark makeup as well.
You'd hate to admit it, but the sight of the men had you suddenly rubbing your thighs together and trying to stop your head from spinning. What the hell was going on right now? What alternate timeline has you just entered?
"Why don't you sit?" Doyoung suggests, avoiding eye contact.
"Umm, alright." You comply, hesitating. When you look back up with expectant eyes, they start to get nervous.
Yuta sits as well, and you're trying not to drool. "Don't freak out."
You side eye him, this was an unusual reaction. "Right.."
"I'll just come out and say it," He pauses. "We're camboys."
He watches your face for a reaction but you provide none, instead choosing to have an explosion in your mind as you keep your composure outwardly. You turn to face him, calmly. "Oh."
Doyoung repeats. "Oh?"
"I don't know how I'm meant to react to this." You struggle truthfully. One, you were grappling with the explanation that you were right in your assumptions. Two, you were trying your best not to just gawk at them. "Plus, it's none of my business, I just came home to apologize."
Jungwoo furrows his brows. "To us?"
"I kind of already saw the tri-pod facing Doyoung's bed and jumped to conclusions. That's why I was acting distant, and I also flashed Yuta this morning-"
"You what?" Doyoung perks up.
"It wasn't on purpose." You wave your hands around before lowering your voice. "And I wanted to know why Jungwoo's been acting weird lately, and if I did anything wrong."
Jungwoo looks taken aback. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong."
"Are you sure? You've been acting off since I've moved in." You respond, trying not to ogle your friends abs. It was proving to be harder than you thought as you forced yourself to look him in the eye.
Yuta and Doyoung exchange a knowing glance that you miss as Jungwoo stutters for an explanation. "I'm sorry, I've just been stressed."
And you just nod, the tense atmosphere in the room suffocating you. "Maybe I should go."
"Are you bothered?" Yuta asks, stopping you. The rest of the boys look genuinely worried, and you feel terrible. Your silence must've come off wrong.
"What? No, this is your house! You can all do whatever you want." You admit genuinely.
Doyoung shakes his head. "We could've at least let you know before hand-"
"No, really, it's fine." You reassure him as you make eye contact with the two other boys. "Also, your secrets safe with me, I won't say anything."
"We know you won't." Yuta nods. "We trust you, and we're sorry we didn't say anything sooner, we just didn't want things to change."
"Nothing has changed, alright?" You smile. "Everything's normal."
..
Everything was far from normal as the days progressed. Sure, the boys seemed a little more loose around you, knowing they didn't have to hide their nighttime activities from you anymore.
But you, on the other hand? Let's just say you were having a hard time not opening a incognito tab on your computer to search for your friends content. Though you knew their accounts wouldn't be easily traceable, likely not having their real name attached to it at all.
It still didn't stop you from wanting to look though.
"If you zone out one more time, I'm kicking you out of my apartment." Haechan voices in annoyance, noticing your lack of attention on some crazy story he was telling you today.
"Yeah, what has you so spacey?" Mark asks, returning to Haechan's bedroom with a water bottle in his hand.
They were unaware of the events, as you had kept your mouth shut, as promised. But it was beginning to grow harder to keep everything to yourself, especially with the way you'd been feeling lately. So with Mark's curious eyes on yours, the words spill out like a waterfall. You recalling everything that had happened to your closest friends, including how badly you wanted to know what the others were up to behind the camera.
Haechan looks gobsmacked, mouth agape as he takes in your words. "..Jungwoo has abs?"
"Is that all you got from that?" You voice frustratedly, they were insufferable.
"I'm never seen him in the gym a day in my life!"
"You don't go to the gym Haechan!"
"All three of them?" Mark repeats, in utter shock as well.
You nod back. "I don't know if they film together or what but-"
"You wanna see it." Haechan finishes for you. "You pervert!"
"I'm not a pervert!"
"You're a pervert. Pervert, pervert, pervert!" Haechan continues in a sing-song voice as you feel your eye twitch. You don't know why you told these two, not like they could offer any useful insight.
Before you can retaliate, Mark's shushing his friend. "I know how to fix this."
You listen because, really? How could Mark possibly know how to solve the inner turmoil brewing inside of you? What could make it all go away?
You admit. "I'm all ears."
"You need to get laid." He states, and your brows fuzz.
"Uh..." You trail, trying to figure out the nicest way to shoot him down.
"Not by us!" He responds, almost reading your mind, then turning around and pretending to puke in Haechans mini trash can. How mature. He comes back to his senses as he stands up again. "Come to a party with us and get fucked. It'll take your mind off of them, and anyways, I think this is just caused by sexual frustration."
Haechan pipes in. "He's right, you're just suffering from lack of dick."
"I slept with this dude named Mingyu like a week ago-"
Haechan stops you. "Shhh, Mark is always right! Right Mark?"
"Right!" And it's so strange how the two have been suddenly agreeing lately.
So you, almost unwillingly, find yourself attending a party with them that very night. Dressed in your tightest fitting dress and your nicest pair of lingerie. After about thirty more minutes of talking to you, they had you convinced your reeling horny thoughts were coming from sexual deprivation. You're sure they had brainwashed you, because seriously, you just had sex! This plan was dumb, but what else did you expect?
Though now, you're feeling stupid as your two friends subtly nudge Lee Jeno in your direction. God, you should've known those two were up to something.
You sip from your red solo cup as Jeno continues to shyly sell himself to you. He's telling you about his volunteer hours, his stellar sports stats, and his love for animals. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's interviewing for a job, and not just attempting to grab a hookup.
Your heart somewhat aches for the boy, he definitely was trying to make you his girlfriend sooner or later, and it was almost sweet. But even if you weren't currently enthralled by the idea of your roommates, you still wouldn't have seen yourself giving Jeno a chance. He wasn't really your type anyways.
Jeno excuses himself to pour another drink as you shoot glares at your two friends from across the room. Not that Haechan sees it though, he's too busy trying to feel up some poor girl who fell for his pick up lines. Mark looks intimidated though!
You pull out your phone in an attempt to discourage any others from approaching you, and are met with a notification from Jungwoo. You open the message accompanied by his cute little contact photo and try not to smile.
It reads, Hey! Doyoung attempted dinner, you should come join us.
Granted, the boys had no idea where you were or that you were being forced into yet another mission, but you just stick your phone back in your purse and scan the room again.
While Lee Jeno may not have been your type, looking for something far too serious to even let you consider sleeping with him, Liu Yangyang seemed to be just what you were searching for. With your luck, he'd throw you off to the side the next morning. You're relieved by the fact that's he's not known to be one for committing.
You're about to approach him when Mark meets your eyes, sending you a silent don't, basically reading your mind. God, why did they have to play wingman? And curse Mark for reading your mind! So you stay rooted in your place as Jeno returns, handing you a drink that you won't even be drinking from.
Doyoung's dinner would probably be more entertaining that this right now. "Hey, sorry. I think I'm actually gonna head home, I'm pretty tired." You let out, interrupting whatever Jeno was saying.
There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he smiles. "I can drive you home."
Your eyes dart to the beer in his hand, passing him a fake smile. "I'll manage, but thank you for offering!"
You ignore the silent pleas and texts from your friends as you exit and get into your car, thankful that you hadn't taken a sip of anything at that party.
A few minutes later and you're back home, deciding to ring the door bell so you're not faced with another situation.
Yuta opens it, smiling as he welcomes you home. You grin back as you slip off your shoes, starving for whatever you could find. "Is dinner ready?"
But your question is answered as you walk into the kitchen to see instant ramen packets scattered across the counter top as Jungwoo holds a bowl, and Doyoung frantically scrubbing at a burnt pan.
Doyoung pushes up his glasses with his shoulder as he's still elbow deep in the sink. "Dinner didn't exactly go as planned."
You giggle. "I see that."
"Want some ramen?" Jungwoo perks up, gesturing his chopsticks towards you when you nod.
"Promise you'll cook for us tomorrow?" Yuta asks, watching as the charred food doesn't let up from the pan. You make a face as well as you shake your head.
"Promise," You say, swallowing your noodles as you sit next to Jungwoo. "Sorry I was out, Haechan and Mark are trying to set me up."
Doyoung somewhat stiffens at the names. "Yeah? Take it that didn't go well?"
You sigh. "Well, he's an athlete and he's nice enough,"
"But?" Jungwoo finishes, knowing you weren't done. Well, he was downright hoping something was wrong with this mystery athlete, truth be told.
Good thing he was right. "But, I don't think I'm into him."
"Why not?"
"No particular reason," You lie, managing to avoid eye contact with the men that were your roadblocks to anyone else right now. How were you supposed to manage a decent lay while thinking about the three hottest guys you've ever seen at home?
Even now, without their makeup and sultry clothing, you think they look attractive as ever. God, you had it bad. With those stupid collard shirts and wire frames, you think they've never looked better.
"I think I'm going to lay off the parties for a few days anyway, midterms are in a week." You continue, knowing the men in front of you had been preparing for them these past couple of weeks already.
"Right," Doyoung nods, sleeves still rolled up as he dries his hands. "Wanted to warn you by the way, we're going to be filming on Tuesday."
"Got it, I'll study at Mark's." You pass, already planning in your head how to get Haechan's loud mouth out of the room long enough to get work done.
Jungwoo looks bothered though. "Or you could stay?"
You look up from your bowl. "Hm?"
"I've been thinking," Jungwoo starts. "This is your place too, you should be able to go about your business while we film. It's not like I haven't done homework while Yuta recorded a fleshlight clip in the next room."
His boldness paired with his vulgar language — which you were definitely not used to — catches you off guard.
"I wouldn't want to bother-"
"No, he's right." Doyoung stops you. "We can't send you off everytime we have something to do, unless it makes you uncomfortable?"
You pause, you shouldn't even be considering this! Not just because of your lack of self control, but also, wouldn't this be dangerously pushing boundaries? "Oh but Yuta doesn't even have his own room right now-"
"Look, if Yuta ever needs to push something out, he can use my room. Or you could just come chill in mine while we wait." Jungwoo offers.
But goodness, being in the same vicinity as any of them when they're doing such sinful things? How were you supposed to hold back? You'd be expected to talk to Jungwoo while Yuta moaned up a storm in the other room?
"Oh, I don't know." You answer, wanting to drop the topic for now. It wasn't getting any easier to talk about it anyways.
"Why do you seem so nervous about it?" Yuta leans in, eyes meeting yours.
You subconsciously lean back, he was definitely onto you. Too bad it was a little hard to fake that you didn't fight the subconscious urge every past night to google their names. "Oh, uh-"
"We'll drop it," Jungwoo shoots a glare at Yuta. "Sorry."
"It's fine!" You smile, pretending to be preoccupied with your ramen. Though your mind is on anything but those stupid noodles right now.
“No we won’t.” Yuta smirks, ignoring Jungwoo entirely. “What has you so worked up, rubbing your thighs together below the table?”
You’re caught off guard at his openness. “W-what?”
“I bet it’s not that athlete, is it?” Yuta leans, tone seductive, and something you had never heard before. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to bend you over the table in front of you.
You avert your eyes, wondering why everyone else had gotten quiet all of a sudden. You couldn't confront this right now, no you wouldn't! "I'll be in my room."
And with that you make a quick way for your temporary bedroom. Ignoring Jungwoo's call for your name as you close the door behind you. What the hell were you going to do now?
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Yuta knows he messed up, bad. Things had been tense in the house for the past few days, and you were more skittish than he had ever seen you. He wondered if you were spending time at Mark's place again.
That was Jungwoo's biggest nightmare, in all honesty. He wasn't sure what the nature of you and Mark's friendship was — and he didn't even want to think about it. You were gorgeous, you could have anyone you wanted! He had no doubt that your friends would fuck you if given the chance, if they hadn't already. He knows it doesn't matter who you're sleeping with, but it does make him feel jealous.
Doyoung remains indifferent, at least on the outside. He goes about his day as Yuta and Jungwoo lose their minds over how to return to their normal selves again. It affects him as well though. You were really close to all of them at one point, how had that changed in less than a week?
Doyoung just knows he wish things had went differently.
The sound of the front door opening alerts everyone in the house. Jungwoo's quick to jump up, greeting you at the front door. You smile back as you remove your shoes. You try to keep your composure as you ignore the men in front of you being dressed up. Ah, you forgot it was a filming day. "Today was so stressful."
"Really? Do you maybe wanna watch something in my room with me?" Jungwoo suggests, hoping he can attempt to ease things. "It'll help you relax."
You shrug, though you don't if you could handle the close proximity. It's already taking everything in you right now not to jump his bones in this hallway. "Why not?"
He mentally celebrates in his head, "I'll grab some chips and meet you in my room."
You nod, walking to your temporary room to change. Today really had taken a toll on you, and on top of it, you forgot you were coming home to your roommates alter-egos. Not that you were complaining, because you definitely weren't, but it had slipped your mind. At least Jungwoo wasn't being awkward anymore. Things were going back to normal, right?
You change into shorts and a simple t-shirt and make your way across the hall. You push open the door and see Jungwoo settled already on his bed, the tv already on. You and him to have movie nights in his bed during sleepovers, so this wasn't unusual. Finally, something was normal again. Even if now you were sexually attracted to him. Geez, could you get your head out of the gutter?!
You two watch the movie for a few minutes as Jungwoo starts to shift in his spot. You begin to grow concerned. "Everything okay?"
Jungwoo brushes you off. "I'm fine."
You furrow your brows. "Alright.."
It only takes a few seconds for him to break as he shoots up. He couldn't ignore it's presence, especially not with you in the room. The insinuation of the little red light on in the corner, as the two of you sat on his bed? It was taking his mind to places it shouldn't go. "I left my camera on my desk, its facing this way. Let me just put it up."
And with that he scrambles to his desk, shutting off the camera and tossing it in one of his desk drawers. He's frantic, and his mind is racing with how little you must think of him right now. "Sorry."
You shake your head. "Stop apologizing, it's fine."
Jungwoo covers his face with his hands as he leans against his desk. He breaks, "I can't keep pretending this isn't weird."
You had no idea he was losing his composure as well, you had thought you had been the only one blowing it out of proportion. But you didn't want him to feel ashamed. So you assure him, "I don't mind."
He moves his hands. "You don't feel weird?"
"Can I be honest, Jungwoo?" You ask, it was now or never. One more second of this back-and-forth and you were going to explode.
He meets your eyes. "Please?"
“It turns me on.” You blurt out, admitting the truth. And you can't believe it had came out so easily.
Jungwoo’s shocked as he fumbles over what to say next. “What?” 
It was too late to go back now, you had to say it. “I think it’s hot, Jungwoo, I think you’re hot.” 
Were his ears deceiving him? He prayed you weren't messing with him. “Really?” 
You giggle as you stand to your feet and he starts to feel stupid. “Mhm."
You continue to walk up to him as you place your hands on the desk behind him, effectively caging him between you. You had no idea where this boldness came from, but its likely he was drawing it out from you.
And he can't believe his circumstances. The girl he's been utterly in love with is leaning over him, in those tiny little shorts, telling him that he was the hot one? “So if I kissed you right now, you would-” 
You stop him mid-sentence as you bring your lips to his. It's reliving almost, the way your mouths slide together in synch. You had waited far to long for this to let him think he would take the lead. You wanted it far too badly.
He kisses you back, head dizzy with how much he wants you. Though he's laced with a feeling of uncertainty that he just can't shake off because what was this? Was this just a hook-up, oh he was getting ahead of himself. This was a kiss, who knew if you even wanted to sleep with him!?
He debates telling you right there, not letting another second go by where you don't know about his feelings. But he's scared, terrified even, of your reaction. So he savors the kiss, putting his hands around your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer together, if that was even possible.
You can feel your heart rate increasing as you lose your breath. You pull away slightly for breath as you and Jungwoo meet eyes. He's showing no signs of stopping though. Pulling you back in to meet his lips as gentle as possible, before kissing you with the hunger of a starved man.
He's devouring you, and he's not sure if he intends to stop there. He doesn't want to stop there, but he's completely blank on what you want. He separates, "We should stop."
You're hazy, drunk on the kiss as you eyes don't leave his lips. "Don't wanna,"
He stops you before you can go in again, squeezing your hips. He couldn't get enough of you, his body was craving you. "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."
You smirk, hunger in your voice. "Then don't."
He groans, you had no idea what you were doing to him. How long he had dreamed of this moment. "I need to know what you want."
The statement has a double meaning, almost daring you to spill out about feelings that he's not even sure you had. Was he ultimately just hurting himself? Likely.
Though you only catch one meaning, "I want you inside me."
And he'd be stupid to deny you that. He tries to formulate a response but you don't give him a chance. You lean closer, brushing your sex on his semi-hard on, "Need you inside me."
"Fuck," He rasped, as he moves his knee between your thigh. You moan out in ecstasy, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had barely even touched you and you're bitching like a dog in heat.
You lick your lips. "Jungwoo, I-"
The door swings open as Yuta and Doyoung peek in. Yuta shakes his head as he crosses his arms, Doyoung standing in complete surprise. The two of them stare as if they caught you doing something illegal.
"Well, what do we have here?" Yuta speaks as he takes in the scene before him. You and Jungwoo hadn't even bothered to separate, too caught off guard to even have time to think about hiding what you were doing.
You swallow hard. "We were just-"
"Just grinding on each other like horny teenagers?" Yuta finishes, smirking as he knows he couldn't have walked in at a better moment.
"Yeah, thanks for the invite Jungwoo." Doyoung comments sarcastically, and you're left confused.
Jungwoo immediately catches on. "No that's not what we were-"
Yuta doesn't buy it. "No use in lying about it."
"I'm sorry, what?" You ask, unmoving.
"Yuta thinks we're filming." Jungwoo elaborates, sighing.
"You're not?" Yuta asks, and Doyoung looks intrigued.
You shake your head, "We were just kissing anyways."
"Jungwoo's boner says otherwise." Doyoung snorts.
Yuta crosses his arms, "Were you really gonna fuck her without us?"
The words hit you, without us? Who was us? Yuta and Doyoung?
You stutter, flabberghasted. "Y-you guy's would've wanted to watch?!"
Yuta shrugs. "I'll be honest, that's more of Doyoung's thing. He likes to watch, he's into those cuck things. I, on the other hand, would've wanted to join."
Yet again, you're phased by the casual talk of this all. A few weeks ago you never would've thought your friends were so, nasty. The guys who avidly avoided woman, the guys who go all shy when you got too close, the guys who would rather be studying than anything else. You don't think you'll ever get used to how they talk now.
Blinking, you speak. "You want to fuck me?"
Yuta brushes hair out of his face. "Are you serious?"
"W-what? Why are you acting like it's a stupid question, you guys have never shown attraction to me." You state, moving off of Jungwoo, and he winces as the loss of contact.
Doyoung groans. "I don't think we could've been anymore obvious without downright saying it."
Was that true? Had you missed all the signs? "I had no idea."
Yuta scoffs, quirking his head to the side condescendedly. "Look at her face, she's telling the truth, she really had no idea what she was putting us through. And here I thought you were being a tease on purpose."
"A tease?"
"Oh come on, flashing me. Walking around the house in tiny shorts and no bra under your t-shirts." He names and you see how that could look.
You mutter. "Flashing you was an accident."
"Well it's no accident how bad I want to fuck you." Yuta replies boldly, walking closer. "So are you in?"
Doyoung pipes up. "If you don't want to, you can walk out now. I promise, thing's wont be weird, we'll be fine."
You think over Doyoungs words for a minute, before looking back at Jungwoo. "I-"
You turn back to the other two. "I want to."
Yuta smiles, and Doyoung speaks again. "Are you sure?"
Jungwoo grabs your hand in his. "We're not trying to pressure you-"
"Jungwoo, I've wanted this for longer than you'd think." You admit, pressure off of your shoulders.
Yuta breaks the moment, pure lust in his eyes. "Get on the bed."
You do as told, laying down on the bed in excitement at the thought of what the three men are going to do to you. You had no idea what to expect.
Jungwoo settles on one side of you, rubbing you through your bottoms. “Thought you were too good for me, honestly. I’m little loser Jungwoo, and here you are, a sopping wet mess under me.” 
“Told Jungwoo I wanted to fuck you the day we met.” Yuta reveals, seated on the opposite side. Yet, you're too caught up on his words. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, baby. Told him we should get you in a little video too, what would you have said then?” He responds, and you flutter at the nickname.
“I had already thought of the title.” Jungwoo smirks. “Slutty college girl gets her tiny hole stretched by nerdy math tutors.” 
“I’d pay to see that.” Doyoung comments, eyes locked on you. 
“Of course you would.” Yuta teases, gaze full of pure lust. 
You feel fuzzy already. “I-I would’ve said yes!” 
“Are you sure?” Jungwoo asks condescendingly. Just because he wanted this as bad as you didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. “I was just the nerd, remember? The nerd who watched you leave to get fucked by another guy while I was right here.” 
You moan out at his vulgar words going straight to your core. 
Doyoung takes a seat in the chair by Jungwoo's desk, seemingly content with watching. “We were all right here.” 
Yuta grins, hands pulling at your shirt. “I would’ve pounded you into my mattress the minute you asked.” 
You whine, the feverish desire taking over. “Wa-want that so bad.” 
“Yeah? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow?” 
You nod, overtaken with sheer desire.
Jungwoo suddenly leans down to capture your mouth in his, distracting how Yuta takes over and tugs your bottoms completely off. You shakily grab run your hands through his hair and he shivers when you touch him and gets slightly more aggressive with the kiss. He wants to be as close to you as he can, even if just for now.
You feel the air hit your bare cunt as you moan into Jungwoo's mouth. He smirks a little as Yuta shakes his head. "So wet just from a little kissing, who knew our friend was such a slut for us?"
You buck your hips off the bed, to which Yuta forcefully pushes your thighs back down. You're barely able to let out a yelp of surprise as the other male continues to meld his mouth with yours.
He’s clearly trying to keep the kiss going for as long as he can, he seems to be enjoying himself way too much. But you can't say you're complaining.
Jungwoo pulls off, moving his plush lips down to your neck as Yuta teasingly runs his fingers numbingly slow through your slit. "P-please stop teasing- umph!"
You're cut off as Yuta pushes a finger into you, quickly followed by another. He's agonizingly slow once again and you can barely handle yourself, "'S too much- too-"
"Oh so you want to give orders but when I follow through, now you're taking it back?" He moves his fingers inside you. "If you can't take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock?"
You moan at the thought of it, not knowing what he looked like under the belt should be considered pure torture, every other part of him was so alluring.
Jungwoo brings your attention back to him as he pulls your shirt up just enough to unclasp your bra, sliding both off with ease as you were too distracted to do it yourself.
"Your nipples are already so hard." He teases, though he goes to pinch one and that has you writhing. "Oh, they're even prettier than I imagined."
He continues to fondle one before putting his mouth on the other, sucking as Yuta continue to piston his fingers in and out of you, going faster by the minute.
You felt so good already, so overwhelmed that you weren't sure it could get any better, but oh were you so wrong.
You feel the familiar coil beginning to form in your stomach, unable to hold in your whines. "Don't stop, please,"
He doesn't, in fact he goes even faster. The pace matched with Jungwoo's mouth still on your boob makes you go dizzy fast.
Before you know it, you're feeling the coil snap and your release dripping out. But you were a fool if you thought they were going to stop.
Yuta continues to finger you damn near to heaven, Jungwoo's tongue jutting out to graze your nipple as he talks you through your climax.
But you're already halfway gone, "Want- want you inside,"
Yuta pulls his fingers out of you, and you clench around nothing as you whine at the sudden emptiness. Yuta doesn't seem too intent on giving it to you so easily though, "You want me inside?.. And what if I don't think you deserve it? What if I make you beg for it?"
You can feel tears well up in your eyes. "Please, please I'll beg. Please Yuta, I can't go another minute without your dick in me!"
Yuta smirks, satisfied with your response. He stands from the bed and pulls his shirt off, following by unzipping his pants. You watch intently as he does so, finally able to see his abs and that tattoo in all of its glory. You could feel yourself throbbing at the view.
"Condom," You whisper, almost like an afterthought, looking at Jungwoo. "Do you have any in here?"
Jungwoo nods, gesturing to Doyoung who sits by the nightstand. "Top right drawer."
Doyoung follows, throwing a package towards Yuta as he catches it before ripping it open with his teeth. Fuckkk that was so hot.
He wastes no time in sliding it over his length, positioning it outside your entrance. You hope he's about to enter but instead, like the tease he is, rubs your clit with his tip gently. Your body already trembling and he wasn't even inside yet.
"Beg," He commands as he continues his previous actions.
"Please! Oh please Yuta-" You chant his name like a mantra as he smiles down at you.
"Don't worry, I'll give you want you want." He speaks, pushing the plush head of his dick past your walls. "Not gonna stop till you're sore."
He continues to push himself farther in as Jungwoo rubs his thumb over your clit, how were they so in synch? Had they done this before?
Yuta finally bottoms out inside you, hissing as you clench around him. "Pussy so fucking tight for such a whore."
You groan as he starts to move, thrusting into you as you babble. Jungwoo's eyes land straight on where your tits bounce, obsessed with the view. God, he was gonna bust in his pants.
You can hear the slight tap of the headboard creaking as it hits the wall behind you, Yuta reaching up to grip it as leverage while he slams into you, and you're trying your hardest not to drool on Jungwoo's pillow.
The younger male smirks before he pulls you into a kiss, silencing your moans for the minute as his tongue explores your mouth.
You whine into Jungwoo's mouth as he continues to sloppily kiss you. Yuta never falters as he watches from behind, he never knew he could enjoy watching you so much. He's borderline obsessed with seeing you two make out while he's inside, he can't get enough.
Doyoung can't see as well from where he sits, but the sounds make up for it. The room filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and skin meeting skin, accompanied by Yuta's heavy groans and pants.
He's doing everything he can to not take his dick out and start palming it, convincing himself to just wait for his turn.
Yuta moved in and out of you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You cried out as the pleasure became almost too much to bear, body quivering beneath him.
He doesn't let up though, too keen on seeing your pretty face all scrunched up. You were shaking as his movements started to go deeper and deeper into you, there was no way you were going to survive this.
"You feel that baby?" He groans. "Feel how hard you make me?"
You just nod, too focused on the task at hand.
He keeps going, "Look how hard Jungwoo is, he's leaking all over his bed."
You'd love to see, but you can't bring your eyes steady enough to look towards him. Jungwoo lets out a quiet whine at Yuta's words, clearly embarrassed.
"Don't get all shy Jungwoo." Doyoung interjects. "It's cute seeing you so worked up."
You moaned, despite the words not being directed towards you. Doyoung voice mixed with Yuta hitting your g spot brought you directly to another realm of heaven.
Yuta felt his body tremble as his release began to build, his mind spinning as his pleasure reached its peak. He couldn't believe he was really getting to have you like this, in all his wildest dreams come true. His fingers dug into your hips, anchoring him to you as the orgasm started to take over.
You separated from Jungwoo as you started to feel the falter in the others thrusts while feeling a similar build up, managing to sputter out a "Are you close?"
He nods, "Are -shit- you?"
You can barely respond before Jungwoo's bringing your lips back to his. He never wanted to stop kissing you, he couldn't.
You suddenly felt your orgasm rush through her body, your entire body trembling with pleasure. You clung to Jungwoo, fingers digging into his arms as the intensity of the moment hit you.
You gasped as you came, body shaking with the intensity of it, breathing heavily as the pleasure slowly ebbed away.
With a deep growl, Yuta followed as he gave one final thrust and released into the latex. Mind incredibly hazy as he collapsed beside you onto the bed. Breathing heavy as you will your eyes not to close.
He stares at your fucked out face, proud of the little number he did on you. He knows this was likely his first and last chance to see you like this, so he was going to relish in it.
Though, others didn't seem to agree with the slower paced approach, Doyoung moving the other male out of the way to climb onto the bed.
Surprisingly, you try to push yourself up. Though, you're still too unsure to ask for what you want. "Can I..."
"Can you what?" Doyoung mocks after you don't respond for a few seconds. "Closed mouths don't get fed."
Who knew he could be so mean?
"Can I ride you?" You blurt out.
He smirks. "Is that what you want?"
You nod, "Fuck, please Doyoung."
He laughs, leaning back on the head board as he slips his pants down. "Be my guest, if you think you can still hold yourself up."
You place your hands on his shoulders as you wobbly throw your legs over Doyoungs lap before pausing, "W-wait,"
The others immediately halt, awaiting your words.
"Jungwoo's still so hard, and he hasn't touched himself. I should help him." You let out, starting at the male who you started this all with.
"Yuta's got it." Doyoung speaks, while the other male composes himself. "Right?"
The oldest smirks, wordlessly reaching over as Jungwoo's face grows red. He wraps his hand around the base of the youngers shaft and starts moving, kitty licking the tip as Jungwoo moans out.
"D-don't stop, I want to see you and Doyoung." Jungwoo gasps, locking eyes with you before squirming at Yuta's actions. It's not like it was the first time they had done this, but it felt so different every time, especially now that he was taking him wholly in his mouth.
You grow wetter at the sight of your roommates getting each other off, now you see why they like to watch so badly. Yuta looked so pretty with his mouth full of cock while Jungwoo moaned like a bitch in heat and clawed at his bed sheets. Not to mention that Yuta had grown hard again, his own hand snaking down to touch himself.
Doyoung lines himself up, his tip pushing past your walls as you slowly sink down. The stretch burning slightly even though you had been fucked already. You couldn't help but hiss, he was just too big.
You bounce a few times as Doyoung digs his nails into your hips. He's more quiet than Yuta, but less composed. You weren't sure he'd have much to say if he could manage to talk. The most you catch from him are quiet groans and deep breaths.
His eyes don't leave your cunt, directed towards where your bodies meet. He's never felt anything so good, not even his state of the art toys his viewers brought him made him feel this way.
“Need it off.” You mutter, reaching below you towards Doyoung’s cock. He hisses as you pry at the tip, harshly pulling the rubber condom off. You throw the item across the room, bringing your hand back to sink down on him as the other boys watch in awe. 
Jungwoo's quick to intervene, “But-”
“We’ll get her a Plan B.” Yuta reassures him as he comes up for air, and you take notice of the way Jungwoo’s face falls for some reason.
You continue bouncing as Doyoung grabs one of your boobs in his hands. You bite your lip at the feeling, mind already halfway to mush as you continue to spear yourself on his cock. “Feels so good.”
He growls as he meets your hips at an animalistic pace. He finally gains the reserve to speak. Teeth gritting, “You feel better than I imagined, slutty pussy dragging me in.” 
Jungwoo pushes Yuta's head down farther as the other teases, while the other gags at the action. The sounds of slurping register in your ears as you look back that way. You almost cum at the sight.
Jungwoo's face twists as he releases into Yuta's mouth, the latter swallowing it without a qualm. Jungwoo can feel himself growing hard again though. The squelch of your body parts melding together has Jungwoo's head spinning even though he already came.
Yuta snarks as he gets onto his knees, pushing his dick into the youngers face. "Your turn, put those pretty lips to use."
Jungwoo's eyes never leave your body as he opens his mouth. Now, if you thought Yuta looked good like that, nothing compared to how Jungwoo looked. So pliant and content to be helping his friend out.
Doyoung brings your attention back to him as he grabs your jaw, "I'm giving it to you so good that you're shaking yet you're staring at them instead?"
You shake your head, grinding down harder on Doyoung's dick as you stop bouncing, knees growing sore. "I'm sorry-"
He scoffs, grip tightening on your jaw. "No you're not."
"I-" You huff, hearing Jungwoo's pretty noises echo in your head as you fight every bone in your body to turn and look.
"Shut up," He cuts you off. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."
You nod as he thrusts up into you. You whine as he holds you in place, using you like a flesh light of his own design. All you can do is take it, feeling his tip kiss your insides with every thrust. Felt like he was rearranging your guts.
He pounds into you with such vigor that you wonder how he has the strength for it all. You try your best to meet his thrusts but he hardly gives you time to.
You would've never guessed the unbothered Kim Doyoung would be into fucking this rough. The more you know, you guessed.
You shout out, "I'm cumming!"
His speed doesn't falter, and he continues fucking you through your second orgasm of the night. He continues as you whimper at your sensitivity, hoping he was close.
"P-pull out," You sputter out, suddenly reminded that you two were going at it raw.
"I will," He responds, before he's moaning out. "Fuck, lift up."
"O-okay." You say, pulling yourself up slightly as his cock springs back onto his abs, covering his stomach in his release.
"That was so hot." You admit, sitting on the bed.
He blinks, "Yeah?"
You barely manage to turn as Yuta shoots his load out onto Jungwoo's face. His face looking ethereal as licks some of it off of his lips.
Yuta's about to say something when Doyoung speaks, "Yuta, lets go take a bath."
Yuta looks confused, not catching the others hint. "Now?"
Doyoung rolls his eyes, "So we can clean up."
"You're hard again, aren't you?"
The other shoots him a glare, clenching his teeth. "Let's go."
He basically drags the other out of the room as you two watch in confusion. Yuta bids, "See you later."
You stay quiet, unable to move without your body aching. Though you feel sudden energy to keep going as you look beside you.
Jungwoo leans over you and brushes your hair out of your face, and it feels more apparent that its just the two of you in the room. “You okay?” 
“I’m a little sore, but I’m fine.” You admit, wincing a bit as you move your legs in an attempt to sit up. Jungwoo shakes his head as he stops you though. 
“If you're not feeling okay-" He starts but you quickly shut him down,
You tilt your head. "But I've waited so long for you."
However, you can barely focus on his words as you take in his disheveled appearance. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. Again. 
He grabs your chin gently, lifting it up to kiss you more, and you can almost taste Yuta on him. He takes his time as you feel the urge to press up against him, ignoring the pain in your legs that the others left in their wake. 
“Baby, don’t tease me there.” He whines, stopping the kiss. 
Yet you don’t cease your actions, wanting to hear more of his needy voice. “I want you so bad, Jungwoo.” 
His eyes meet yours, hesitance behind them. “Really, are you sure?” 
“Unless you don’t to-” 
“No no, I want to.” He responds, meeting your lips again. He’s more sure of himself this time, hand snaking to touch your cunt.
You're one hundred percent sure you were in love with Jungwoo. But who was counting?
Before you knew what was happening, he was throbbing inside you. Your cunt spent from the other two, but so willing to take him in as well. He was much bigger than you imagined, but once he was inside you, it was like he lost all semblance of control.
You almost wanted to laugh, what happened to the Jungwoo that was being almost mean to you earlier? Was he so drained that he forgot?
He had you in missionary, long slow thrusts pressing into you as you whimper. He caged you under him, hand holding yours as he used the other for balance. He went in for another kiss again, soft like he was scared you were going to break.
Being with him felt different, of course the others felt good but there was a clear line drawn in the sand with them. Yuta was a performer, he got off to the others looking at him put on a show. Doyoung didn't seem like he was focused on you as much either, and was more about himself.
But Jungwoo? He seemed to be worried about you and only you.
"You're so pretty." He mutters, looking into your eyes.
"P-pretty?" You ask, his length still bullying into you.
"I think you're gorgeous." He confirms, wanting to go in for another kiss.
"Jungwoo..." You wrap your hands around his shoulders as you pull him closer. "I think I like you."
He looks shocked at this, pausing his strokes. "Really?"
You smile, "Yes, really."
"But I'm just me." He avoids eye contact. "You're out of my league and I'm just this dork who studies mechanics! And are you sure you like someone who films himself-"
You interrupt him with a kiss, slipping your tongue past his mouth as you only pull away when you need air. "I don't care about any of that, I like you."
He smiles, "If you hadn't noticed, I've had a thing for you since that day in class when you sat next to me. I was so bummed you weren't even in that class and was just hoping I saw you again."
"Well, I'm glad we found our way back to each other."
"Me too." He speaks before pressing his face into your neck, mumbling as he continues his actions.
You two continue in almost silence, basking in pure love for each other as only small whimpers echo throughout the room. Everything that needed to be said already had been. You two were definitely going to have a long talk after this.
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Living with the boys was no longer temporary, it was now your permanent place of residence. Especially since you had packed up your things and moved into your boyfriends room, granting Yuta access back to his room.
Things had been going well. Midterms went smoothly, Jungwoo was great (The sex was too), and you had landed that job you applied for!
You had even made an appearance in your boyfriends job, with masks of course, but nonetheless his viewers ate it up. Now they even sent comments in begging you to start your own channel, but you think you're far from that.
Things weren't awkward with the boys either, in fact, it feels good to have everything open in the air. There weren't any secrets anymore and things just felt like they were almost back to normal.
Breaking the news to Mark and Haechan was definitely... a scene. Mark was heartbroken on Lee Jeno's behalf while Haechan was more worried about how he was the only friend who hadn't gotten to tap that. To which Mark corrected that he hadn't either, which just led to a mess of a conversation.
People were definitely caught off guard when the news of you together broke. Many thought the pairing was funny.
Those like Haechan and Mark thought you had gone mad. And Jungwoo's studious admirers shuddered at how he could be with someone as provocative as you. Ha! If only they knew.
Jungwoo placed an object in front of you, proud of his efforts. "Here it is, the finished scale model."
You pick up the small jet in your hands, giggling at its design. "I love it, it looks like a tiny plane."
"It's a fighter jet!" Doyoung corrects as he joins you both in the kitchen.
You roll your eyes, "I'm aware, I helped paint the stupid thing."
"Stupid?" Jungwoo gasps dramatically.
"That's not what I-"
"Nope." He stops you. "Too late, the damage has been done."
"Jungwoo, don't be dramatic." You plead, though his eyes are already bulging out of his head.
He places his hand on his chest as he pretends to be hurt. "I'm going to go cry and throw up in my room."
"Dear lord," You begin before he runs off to his room. You've grown used to his antics by now. "Guess I have to go reassure him now."
Doyoung snorts, "Gross."
"Not like that, you pervert!"
"Who said I even was talking about that! You made it all dirty!" He retorts back when Yuta enters the room.
"Contrary to popular belief, we don't just fuck every chance we get."
"Tell that to my ears! You guys keep me up most nights, it's so annoying." Yuta complains. "The walls are thin, you know!"
You giggle, walking out of the room to find your sulky boyfriend as you shrug. "Deal with it."
The two watch as you're out of sight, Doyoung pouring himself water for his tea. He notices the look on the others face as he pats him on the shoulder. "You ever regret it?"
"Regret what?"
"Not telling her."
Yuta sighs, looking down before he shakes his head. "No. Jungwoo makes her happy, and that's good enough for me."
Doyoung chuckles, "We could switch rooms, if you want."
"It's all good, It's not that bad."
"You like listening don't you-"
"I'm going to slap you if you finish that sentence."
1K notes · View notes
marasmadness · 12 days ago
Text
You Were Never Not Mine
Emily Prentiss x fem!reader x Elle Greenaway
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KINKTOBER FIC #2 (thank you for bearing with me)
Based on request for Emily & Elle x brat!reader with gags and vibrators.
CW: dom!Emily x switch!Elle x sub!femreader, punishment, brat taming, alcohol, vibrators, gags, cockwarming, spanking, dumbification, pet names, age gap, glimpses and hints of aftercare
Elle spun around in her chair, sensing you lingering in the doorway of her home office almost instantly. She crossed her legs and looked up at you through her painted mascara-painted lashes. “You want something.”
You sauntered in, leaning against her desk, still covered in work. ”Nope, just came in to say hello. Whatcha working on?”
She closed her laptop slightly, resting her elbows on the wooden desktop. “Prepping for an upcoming trial.” She waved her hand at the stacks of old court cases and other papers strewn across her desk. You wandered over toward her bookshelf, running your fingers across the shelves. Both Emily and Elle had offices in the house, but Elle worked in hers much more frequently, while Emily preferred to spend late nights at the office.
Elle’s style presented itself through her office. Awards littered the top shelf, and old law school textbooks were lined up across the bottom. She had a handful of pictures of herself beside you, Emily, or both. Her degrees were framed behind her desk, and on the opposite wall hung a wide variety of feminist figure posters. All her casework cluttered a good portion of her office but was neatly stacked, and she could find any paper she was looking for within a minute. She kept a singular fake plant on her desk, a gift from you since neither she nor Emily could keep a plant alive to save their lives.
“I have an idea,” you announced, circling back to right beside Elle. “How about we go out tonight?” You bit your bottom lip, swinging your legs back and forth as you sat on the armrest of her chair.
Elle gave you a look, scoffing playfully. “There's no way that’s happening after last weekend. Also, we cannot be out at a club or bar every single weekend. Not all of us are 23.”
“Oh, come on, neither of you look a day over 23.” You teased cheekily, sliding off the edge of the chair to straddle Elle’s lap.
She grabbed your hips forcefully, tugging your legs tighter around her waist. “Oh, really? Emily’s gray hair begs to differ. And I’m pretty sure most of her newest silver threads are from trying to rein you in last weekend."
“Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad. We had fun!”
“Mhm, I’m sure Emily thought so too. With having to carry you to the car after you were so drunk, you were insisting that you couldn’t leave with us because you were waiting for your girlfriend to pick you up... The man next to us was ready to call the cops.”
“Minor error on my part, but that’s why we don’t have to tell her! She will most likely be locked up in her office tonight, and she’ll believe you if you tell her we’re going to run a quick errand, Ta-da! Problem solved.
Elle laughed, her tongue swiping across her bottom lip as her chin dropped toward her chest. “Deal, go get dressed; just don’t walk by Emily’s office wearing a skintight dress, or I have a feeling the profiler might just be able to conclude that we’re not going grocery shopping.” She tapped two fingers against your waist, and you scrambled off her, hurriedly exiting the office. Elle tidied up her desk and headed toward the guest room that mostly acted as her girlfriend's office.
Elle was waiting for you down by the car, leaning against the driver's side door as she swung the ring of keys around her finger. “You look hot,” she murmured, snaking her hand around your waist as she sauntered around the car to open the passenger side door.
“Why thank you?" You were cut off when her lips roughly messed with yours, her hands on your waist pressing you back against the car. Elle’s hands blindly searched for the handle behind you as her tongue explored the edge of your mouth. Tugging it open, her grip tightened around your body, keeping you attached to the hip before you climbed in.
You usually frequented the same few places, staying within ten minutes of your house in D.C. and preferring familiar atmospheres. Elle placed her hand on your lower back as she guided you out of the brisk cold. A warm rush of heat hit you as you entered and your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. “Over there, open stools on the left,” she murmured in your ear, centimeters close so that you could hear her over the noise. You weaved through the clusters of people, keeping your focus tuned to where you were headed and not the faces of nearby strangers. You sat down with an excited breath of relief and turned to face Elle as she sat down to your left.
Two drinks appeared in front of you, almost like magic. It was more ominous when you realized it was both the exact drinks you and Elle ordered and that they had to have been mixed before you had even walked in.
The bartender was already half a step away from you but gestured toward the opposite end of the bar. A woman in the last seat in a suit sent them. You tipped your head out around the row of people, curious to spot the woman. Your heart dropped out of surprise, seeing a familiar face. Elle’s chin was tucked toward her chest, a shadow hiding a mischievous grin.
Emily got up slowly, sauntering over toward you. "Hi, babe,” she kissed Elle on the cheek before leaning on the bartop between you. She reached over your shoulder, her breath tickling your skin. Grabbing the stem of your drink glass, she brought the rim to your lips, tilting your chin with two fingers. You took a sip, still frozen in place, as you tried to figure out what was going on.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She leaned in to whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as she pulled away. Elle was in my office within three seconds after you stepped out of hers. It was a cute attempt though. Just don’t try it with a profiler and lawyer.”
Elle raised her glass in Emily’s direction with a chuckle. "Em, I'm thinking she didn’t really care that much if we went out. She just wanted attention. And the best way she could think of to get that was to act like a brat.” Elle cocked her head, studying your reaction, which only told her she had been right.
Emily slid herself off her stool, black heels clicking against the sticky floor beneath her. Snaking an arm around your waist, she guided you up, taking the opportunity to speak teasingly in your ear. “If you wanted us to fuck you doll, all you had to do was ask.” She straightened up without batting an eye. “Alright then, are we ready to go?”
You were hesitant to leave, but Emily’s hand on your lower back steered you in the direction of the door and back out to Elle’s car. The entire car ride was defined by anticipation that felt like teeth sinking into your neck. Emily had grabbed your hand as she entered your apartment, leading you straight to her office. “Sit,” she gestured toward a swivel chair that sat beside her desk. She left the room briefly, quickly returning to toss her jacket over the edge of her chair.
Emily raised an eyebrow at the soft smile you couldn’t keep off your face. “Don’t think you’re getting what you want. Now Elle and I still have work to get done tonight after your little stunt.” Her fingers grasped at the hem of your dress, yanking it up over your head. You shivered as our bare skin pressed against the cold leather of the chair. “Doesn’t mean we can’t entertain ourselves though.” She slipped two fingers beneath the waistband of your lace panties, biting her lip as she tugged the almost see-through fabric down slightly.
You gasped at a new sensation as her opposite hand slipped down to your pussy. The familiar feeling of Emily’s favorite vibrating egg pressed against your clit made your thighs clench. Your breath caught in your throat as Emily’s head dropped between your legs, pressing a taunting kiss to the growing damp spot on your panties before she adjusted the vibrator to a more jolting angle through the fabric.
A soft whimper left your lips as Emily returned to sit at her desk, picking up her phone. You watched curiously as she tapped away, only getting your answer to watch what she was doing when you gasped at the sudden vibrations that she had turned on. You gripped the arms of the chair tightly, trying to stay still. Emily watched you out of the corner of her eye as she started typing on her laptop. The only sign that she was still paying attention to you was the small smirk that had settled on her face.
Every few minutes Emily’s hand swept down to her phone to adjust the level, enjoying the way your teeth sank into your lip to stay quiet. “Shhh,” she stated quietly, lowering the glasses perched on her head down onto her nose. You tried to turn your attention toward her as a distraction, which was a foolish idea. The dark veins in her hand flexed against her mouse as she scrolled through pages of reports. Every few seconds, her tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip, or she ran her hands through her hair with a soft sigh.
You were too quickly relieved when Emily stood up, shrugging her blazer off her shoulders into the chair behind her. She tugged on the black silk tie that hung loosely around her neck, pulling it over her head. “Emily please…”
She shook her head with a laugh. “This is a punishment baby. And I need to focus.” Bending down in front of you, she wrapped the tie around your head, gagging your mouth, muffling all sounds. The steady stimulation had become slightly less pleasurable and more of a sting. Every time you came close to coming, you grew slightly quieter in hopes that your desperation would go unnoticed. It never did. Emily continuously stopped the vibrator, letting you groan, then catch your breath before it was buzzing right against your clit again. The tie in your mouth had become damp with drool from the corner of your mouth and slow tears of frustration that rolled down your cheeks.
After what felt like an eternity, Emily closed your laptop, focusing on you as she removed the gag from her mouth. She ran her thumb across your cheek, wiping up a tear.
Emily, please let me come; I’ll be good, promise.” Your voice was breathy and slightly whiny after being edged countless times.
“I know you will because you’ve learned that I like when you beg, but there’s two of us..." She held out her hand toward you, tilting her head across the hall toward Elle’s open office. Her spot behind her desk gave her a perfect view into Emily’s. Your legs were shaking as you stood, and Emily stopped you on the way out. “ Wait-” You turned around, instantly knowing what she wanted. Her palm was outstretched as you placed the panties you had been wearing in her hand, and she pocketed them. “Thank you,” she replied in a playful voice.
Elle smiled as you walked in. Her heels were kicked off underneath her desk, and she sat leisurely with her legs spread. “Come sit doll.” She tapped her thigh with two fingers, her eyes soaking in your naked body. You cautiously approached her with your hands clasped in front of you. She pulled you onto her chair like earlier, but the control you had felt was now lost as you straddled her, who was fully dressed, naked.
Her fingers closed around your wrist, guiding your hand down between her legs. You dragged your hand across the tent in the fabric of her trousers. She was already packing. With a shy tilt of your head, you leaned against her chest while playing with her zipper. “Can I?”
“Of course, love.” You eagerly unzipped her pants, releasing her thick black strap. Her hands gripped your hips tightly, stilling you. “Ah, patience. If I let you sit on my cock, you have to stay still while I finish things up.”
You pouted, draping your arms across her shoulders. “Why couldn’t you finish work while Emily was torturing me?”
Because watching you squirm was a lot more fun, and because you’re a brat.” She shot back, and she lowered your hips, moaning slightly as her cock sunk into your pussy. She left one hand resting on the warm skin of your back while she worked. Occasionally the sound of her typing would briefly cease, and her hand would softly grope your tits before you were feeling needy for her touch again. At one point you attempted to shift slightly, cunt already dripping. A sharp smack hit the flesh of your ass, sound resonating in the empty room. You yelped, dropping your head into the crook of her neck, but she didn’t acknowledge it.
“Okay love, all done.” She brought her hand to the back of your head, running her hands softly in your hair. You could’ve cried out in relief. She laughed lightly at the look on your face and gradually slid you off her strap. Picking you up, she wrapped your legs around her waist, carrying you out. “Little break and some rest, and then we can do whatever you want. If you still want to, we can go gentle.”
You nodded, knowing she could feel it against her shoulder. Emily appeared in front of you with a glass of water. ‘ Drink baby.”
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lynxcreations · 9 months ago
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“IT’S OKAY TO BE DIFFERENT!” – MOTIVATIONAL T-SHIRTS
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persefolli · 1 year ago
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about the tonowari x reader x ronal thing:
their wife/spouse is someone who doesn't really have a big role like them, like a fisherman or a farmer, and just gets giddy when they or the kids want to help/join her.
bonus if the Sully's meet her and is like, "so... what are you?" and her family gets low-key offended and pissed, lol.
just a thought
𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap, @ms5m1th, @18lkpeters, @yukichan67, @laylasbunbunny, @jakesullyscocksleeve, @neteyamyawne, @fanboyluvr, @myheartfollower, @letsloveimagines, @xylianasblog, @papichulo120627
𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐀/𝐧: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭!
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“Y/n!” You heard a familiar voice in the distance. You looked up from the field and saw Tsireya running over, holding her satchel.
“Hello Reya. What brings you to this side of the reef?” 
She groans and sets her bag near your mauri pod, “Mother said you haven’t met the Sully’s yet and it's been two weeks.”
“Ah..I mean-”
“She wants you to come to dinner.”
You smiled and tilted your head. Reya shared the same expression. The both of you knew when Ronal “wanted” something, there was no choice, no way out. You weren’t getting out of this dinner.  
“I decided to come and help you make a grand impression. You can make our favorite dish. That is if you have some ovumshroom growing.”
“Oh I always have some in the chamber. Go grab the hoe.” You waved Tsireya to the small makeshift pod..or shed you had specifically for farming tools.
You smiled brightly watching Tsireya get to work, picking at the ground to see if she can find any fresh ovumshroom to pick out. While she did that, you went to sprinkling fertilizer over the newest crops you planted earlier that day.
Farming always brought you a sense of joy. It was calming, especially being away from the hustle and bustle of the village. Ronal and Tonowari insisted you move to that side of the reef, just so you could be closer to the family, but you insisted on staying where you were. The sun hit this part of the reef better and the soil was much more suited for planting and curating the plants you worked with.
After a while, you retreated back into your marui pod, where Tsireya was already sitting, peeling the shroom and humming to herself.
“Make sure to save the stubs. I can-”
“Replant them. I know.” She giggled and you ruffled her hair a bit. 
You moved to clean yourself up, putting on the nice clothing Ronal and Tonowari gifted you for nights like this. Ronal would throw a fit if you walked in wearing your farming clothes, but you would do anything to appease your lover.
A knock at the entrance caused you and Tsireya to look up. It was Ao’nung.
“I’m not too late am I?”
Tsireya threw a shroom stub at him and giggled. 
“Not at all,” You said. “You might wanna start boiling some water.
The teens worked happily in your kitchen as you tidied a bit. It warmed your heart to know that kids, especially of their age still enjoyed the simplicity of farming and cooking. Tsireya opened up to you once about how it was a nice way to get away from the training and practices of being the princess.
Ao’nung was less vocal about his enjoyment, but he kept coming around so that was a plus.
The three of you worked until sunset, creating an ovumshroom stew with fish and porridge, one of your favorites.
“Now who's gonna help me carry this across the reef?” You said playfully. Tsireya walked up but was pushed back by her brother.
“Let the future Olo’eyktan handle this.”
“Hey! Dad said I still have a good chance.” Tsireya rebutted. 
“We’ll see about that.”
---
After a long walk, the three of you finally arrived at their home. Ronal had a scowl on her face, and you smiled awkwardly. “I brought food.”
“At least you didn’t come empty handed.” She huffed. 
“I came as fast as I could.” You said lowly, realizing the Sully family was already inside the pod.
Ronal went back to announce the food was ready, and the navi began pouring in. You poured the porridge into their bowls as they stood in a line, chatting and smiling brightly at the warm meal. When it was Neytiri’s turn, she held her hand up before you could fill her bowl. 
“I can pour it myself, thanks.”
“Oh there’s no need, I insist.’ You politely said, holding up the spoon.
“I rather not…have someone like you pouring my food.”
“Someone like me?”
The room fell silent at your high-pitched voice that radiated from shock. 
Ronal was standing not too far from the two of you with a nasty glare on her face. Tonowari also had a look of disapproval displayed across her face.
“In the forest we don’t have servants.”
Ronal hissed, and Tonowari stood, walking over to stand close to his wife.
“She is no servant.” Ronal said harshly.
“That's Y/n. Mom and Dad’s girlfriend.” Ao’nung said a little unphased from the situation. 
Everyone watched as Neytiri's face changed, going into shock. She fell silent, and a thick draft blew through the pod. She nervously giggled before nodding.
“Enlighten me Ms. Sully. What about Y/n made you think she was-”
“It’s fine Ronal.” You chimed in, trying to deescalate the situation. In Neytiri’s defense you were wearing less formal clothing and you were serving the food. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together. 
“I apologize.” Neytiri said.
“It was an honest mistake.”
“Mistake my foot.” Ronal mumbled, 
Tonowari placed a hand on his wife's shoulder and nodded, giving everyone the non-verbal signal that we could all move on from the mistake. 
The pod was still quiet by the time you sat to eat, everyone, even the kids, scared to break the tension that floated in the air. You looked around to see if anyone would perk up, but everyone was either focused on their food or frowning. 
You made eye contact with Jake, and you can tell he was about to take his chance with damage control. 
“Would it be rude to ask how this came to be?” 
You smiled and chuckled. “Well Ronal initiated everything. IIf she wants something she won't stop until she has it.”
Tonowari looked over at Ronal who had a bit of a flushed expression on her face. “Well Ronal here saw Y/n dancing around the bonfire, and went to join in. This was when the kids were…Tuk’s age, maybe younger.” Tonowari started. “After that night we wanted to meet with her more, but we didn’t see her around the village. Ronal tried convincing me for weeks that she was indeed Metkayina and not from some other clan.”
“I found her playing with rakes on the other end of the reef.” Ronal said.
“I was plowing the sand, not playing with rakes.”
“Same difference.” Ronal sighed. “I saw her..thought she would make a great addition.”
“Whatever makes Ronal happy.  I told myself.” Tonowari smiled. “But… Y/n makes me happy too.”
After an eye roll from Ronal everyone in the pod laughed, dissipating the once tense room. 
Once dinner ended, and the Sully’s retired to their own pod, you stayed behind to help clean the mess that was left behind. You noticed Ronal washing the dishes intensely, so you walked over and leaned to look at her.
“Ronal.”
“That Neytiri woman. I don't like her.” She said scrubbing the dish.
“It was an honest mist-”
“I allow her to seek Uturu and she comes to my home and disrespects me, you- us!” She stammers.
You grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to face you. “Ronal….it's fine. Listen, I'm not offended. We're from two different worlds, I've accepted I may not be treated with respect like you and Wari.”
“But you should be!” She says sternly.
“Ronal.” You placed a kiss on her cheek. “As long as I am with you two I am just fine. I don't care what people say about me, or how they treat me, because you and Wari are the only two people whose opinion matters.”
Ronal looked at you before sighing and nodding, giving in, like she always did. Tonowari walked over and smiled at the sight of you two embracing.
“And you,” Ronal turned to her husband. “You did not defend me.”
“Sweetheart you did a better job than I could’ve. And I would rather not get into women's business.”
Ronal stood quiet before nodding. “You have a point.”
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hwaightme · 11 months ago
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(masterlist) (taglist)
🩺 pairing: paediatrician!bf!seonghwa x neurosurgeon!gn!reader 🩺 genre: fluff, doctor au, established long-term relationship, festive fic 🩺 summary: in the early hours of a shared night shift right before christmas, the present turns into a gift, and seonghwa can't be happier and more in love 🩺 wordcount: 7.8k total 🩺 warnings/tags: slightly edited, the fluff is strong, simpery is real, two doctors with heart eyes, marriage, proposals, family, hwa is yearing, woo cameo, woo+hwa banter, yeo+yunho mention, mom+kid side ocs, needles/syringes, injections, hospitals, night shifts, unconventional marshmallow toasting, a lot of love and sharing life <3 🩺 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🩺 a/n: happy holidays and merry christmas~ the idea for this was in the drafts for ages, reignited hardcore by @starrysvn(...the cameos hehet), and it feels right for the festive season~ much love! comments, reblogs, notes all appreciated
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Clean and comforting. The poster-room of an office, personalised, and yet retaining all the professional qualities necessary. The gentle swaying of the tulle that transformed the twinkling of a myriad of skyscrapers outside and a magnificent deep navy and inky black star-filled sky into a soothing haze, the ticking of a clock adorned with illustrations from the doctor’s favourite franchise. There was a unity even in the multicoloured shelves and cupboards. Stickers, kindly left behind by particularly pleased, proud and excited patients turned into permanent decorations on the sides of the otherwise strictly uniform desk, bringing relief and encouragement to its occupant. The newest additions - a small desk Christmas tree that was decorated on theme with the rest of the space, and a couple of garlands elegantly hung on the top cupboards and above the tulle served as reminders that it was, in fact, the festive season, and celebrations were only a day away. Even so, healthcare could not take a holiday, and the hospital was busier than ever.
“Hey… do you like… Lego?”
It had been long enough since the beginning of the appointment, as Doctor Park Seonghwa had noted, but the little patient sitting in front of him was still refusing to succumb to the wrath of a ‘spooky scary needle that makes him go ouchy’. Seonghwa could not blame the boy though - if there was something he never did, it was to project a child’s behaviour outwards into adult societal expectations. As a matter of fact, he rarely did that for adults too. He never saw the point, nor did he wish to impose some alternative spin on reality onto anyone who he had the pleasure of meeting, especially his patients or their relatives. As L/N Junseo crossed his arms in disapproval, Seonghwa could not help but spin a tiny fraction on his stool that he used during appointments such as this, and sneak another piece of sporadic scrutiny towards the mother. As he had assumed, there was little comfort to be offered from her side - she was sitting in a corner across the room, fanning herself and sending worried glances in the approximate direction of both the doctor and her son.
So, he had no choice left. He had to pull the most powerful weapons out of his arsenal - inspired by the many pieces that served as baubles on his desktop tree. Seonghwa was grateful that he had the foresight to not unpack the disposable syringe before checking the kid’s tolerance. Judging by the smile that spread across the boy’s face, and the confused expression gracing his mother’s, Seonghwa knew he hit the jackpot and there was potential for him to catch a break if the appointment did not run over, and if he was lucky enough, perhaps the main reason behind his rush would be free too. The simple thought inadvertently crawled into Seonghwa’s mind, and he lowered his gaze to suppress a shy smile and return to being the amiable paediatrician that he needed to be.
“Now, mister Junseo, will you wait a couple of seconds for me?” After receiving his patient’s enthusiastic nods of approval, he spun around on his stool, and rolled towards the cabinet that occupied the majority of the right wall of his office.
Stopping himself from crashing into his desk with a fast hand, he opened one of the lower doors to reveal a series of colour coded and labelled trays, each one filled to the brim with even more vibrant hues, but maintaining a strict order. Pulling the first and then the second tray from the top, the doctor inspected the contents, and decided to give the final decision to Junseo, turning to him with a grin on his face.
“Dinosaurs or spaceships?”
“Spaceships!” just as Seonghwa had thought, this question broke through the storm clouds of doubt and fear, cutting right down to Junseo’s primary interests, some of which the young doctor just so happened to share – the only difference was that the latter had to also remember that he had a job to do, and that job involved convincing, or cleverly deceiving with good intentions, a little kid into a routine shot. It was hard not to wonder what your, his life partner’s, reaction would be if you were in this room with him, considering that this environment was probably the furthest a space from your natural habitat - the operating room, could be.
“A man of good taste I see. I mean, dinosaurs are cool too, but I will let you in on a little secret… I have matching spaceship band aids,” As he pulled out the tray that contained some pre-built spaceships, with the bricks being from a younger-child-friendly set, along with stray pieces that turned the set into the perfect cognitive and sensory exercise, Seonghwa took time to explain his actions to the boy. In a way this was not too dissimilar from the preparation of instruments for surgery, so perhaps you would find joy in this interaction to the same extent as him. He shook his head lightly, reeling himself back to the matter at hand.
Sometimes, Seonghwa pondered whether too much of his budget, and, on occasion, personal finances, went towards making his office be more of a playground than what one would imagine ‘a doctor’s lair’ to be – in his mind, that was your office, one that he visited enough times to memorise. An ode to modernity, with books and documents, diagrams and an anatomically accurate model of a brain with various labels - just what one would expect of a real doctor. But both fortunately and unfortunately, this was a style that Seonghwa would not attempt to achieve in his own office. There was a mat on the floor made out of foam puzzle pieces, there was every form of toy transport he could find, animals, dolls… he swore he appeared in toy stores more regularly than in the pharmacy at this point. But the joy with which his patients’ faces lit up was more than encouraging, reminding him that he was on the right path, he was doing well, and that everything was worth it.
“NO WAY!” Junseo yelled out, excitedly kicking his feet. The paper towels that lined the bench rustled slightly, the link between the sheets being stress tested – much like the mother, who appeared to be speechless, but at least no longer faint.
Seonghwa imagined that his present conclusions and responsive actions were not too distant from how teachers felt when they saw a certain type of action be executed by a child, and then saw its origins during parent teacher conferences. The conclusion had come to his mind on its own accord but resounded loudly enough for him to send a reassuring gleam to Missus in the corner, and observe her delayed reactions as she, evidently, was battling the instinct to throttle him to the ground and save her child from danger. How wild and fascinating the generational sharing of fears and burdens was. Seonghwa turned his attention back to the star of the show, who was eagerly waiting for the eloquently advertised, and much anticipated, spaceships.
“Yes way! And I can show them to you later.” Seonghwa responded with a chuckle, setting the tray next to the boy, making him turn to the side and better expose the arm that was to receive the intramuscular injection. Even though Junseo was now fully immersed in the toy provided, he still expressed his gratitude, forcing the man to use every ounce of strength in him to not melt.
“Thank you so much Doctor Park!”
"No, thank you! Lego is my favourite, you know, but if you picked dinosaurs, you could have heard my tyrannosaurus rex impression." He could hear some shuffling outside of the room, turning into a thud as he introduced his ‘special ability’ when it came to distraction tactics. It was straining, conducting all his appointments without a nurse, since quite a number had arranged to go on holiday for Christmas, including his favourite in the form of a tall man with the brightest smile and enough energy to power the whole building - Jeong Yunho. Was it a challenge for Seonghwa? Perhaps, but he was coping. Besides, would he really want anyone here with him except a certain someone who was not even in this specialisation?
"Awh... no... but that sounds so fun I wanna hear, I wanna hear!!!" The cute boy was practically begging, giving Seonghwa his best puppy dog eyes with a turn of his head – that would not do for the doctor’s mission, however, Junseo needed to be practically in a different realm for it to work.
"Could you attach this jet engine please?" In the softest voice he could muster, Seonghwa guided attention back to the spaceships, commenting on how well Junseo was assembling them. He infinitely admired the ability that children had to disregard common practices, ignore rules and simply create. As Junseo would get older, he would undoubtedly have to succumb to standardisation, but in the meantime, he could enjoy picking a wild palette of coloured bricks, not think about astrophysics when constructing the ships, and be perfectly satisfied with what he was crafting.
"Mhm..."
Using the moment of distraction, Seonghwa turned and reached for the hand sanitiser pump on his desk, cleaning his hands. With practised motions, as he returned to his seat in front of the kid, the doctor took out the prefilled syringe out of the pocket of his white coat, peeling the decontamination seal to fish the item out. He had a small window of opportunity and needed to act fast to seize it. From the other pocket, he produced a packet with an alcohol swab, carefully tearing it, as far away from Junseo as possible so that he would not be shocked by the smell.
"Now, Junseo, could you sit a little closer to me, so... oh thank you!" The child obediently shuffled, not taking his eyes off the Lego pieces. "You might feel a little cold on your arm, but don't worry I will roar that away, okay, you with me? Ah wait, how do we make that ship the strongest in the galaxy?" breath in, breath out. Watching the child’s movements so that he would not accidentally hurt himself. Lifting the sleeve of the t-shirt the Junseo was wearing ever so slightly, Seonghwa crept towards the bench on his wheeled stool, praying to every higher power that he would be done with this appointment soon, but retaining his professionalism. It was now or never.
"Imma show you-"
"Nyaaaaaaah~"
As soon as Seonghwa started, he was done, and the syringe was long hidden behind his back as he pressed a cotton ball to the area, though Junseo could not care less, having broken into a fit of giggles over the interesting interpretation of a t-rex. No matter how exhausted he was, this was one of the things the doctor lived for – having the ability to make medicine, doctor’s visits, and hospitals just a little bit less miserable for the little ones, something of a game or an adventure, him being of the opinion that these pocket-sized humans did not deserve to be exposed to the struggles quite yet. If it was in his power, he would have changed the ‘quite yet’ to never, but that was far too utopian, and something wiped out of him in first year of medical school. So, Doctor Park simply tried his best.
"DOCTOR PARK THAT WAS NOT A ROAR!!!" Junseo proclaimed, still giggling as he clutched onto a bright green brick. Seonghwa chuckled, sliding to the left to dispose of the syringe in a biohazard bin, stretching himself out so that he could still keep holding the cotton ball. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the mother beginning to come to her senses, the ‘high alert’ mode dropping to a more manageable, generally healthy parental worry.
"Then come on, show me what you've got. I bet you have a-"
"ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAR!!!" With him being startled by what he should have expected, he could not help but throw a glance at the other adult in the room, finding her surprised. Hands clasped together, she whispered ‘goodness gracious’, and upon finding out that she had a one-man audience, gave a sheepish grin and looked down. Seonghwa was calming down from his ‘performance’, the doctor, actor, caregiver and child-friendly comedian in him began to leave his body, giving way to a straightforward happiness of a man who could see that he helped out people in need.
"Wow now that is IMPRESSIVE Mister Junseo! Ah wait, could you hold this for me?” he gestured towards the cotton ball, and once the boy complied, backed away to get some more hand sanitiser. “We are done!"
"Huh? Wait... no ouchy?" genuinely confused, the toddler asked, dropping the Lego pieces entirely and blinking in slow motion.
"We scared the ouchy away with spaceships and your awesome roar, didn't we?"
"WE DID!! WE DID!!" With the cotton forgotten, Junseo was about to hop off the bench, his hands pressed into the dark grey material he had been sitting on, but before he could Seonghwa caught him, easily picking the boy up in his arms despite the weight that it put on him. After all, patients came first, and this was always a clear sign that he was trusted – besides, the kid did not have any other ailments, so a little hug would not hurt anyone, especially not Seonghwa’s soul.
"We did! I promised you a cool band aid too so... ah hold on let me... watch your head please." With Junseo still in his arms, Doctor Park ambled towards the other side of the office, closer to where the mother was now standing, to reach into one of the shelves and retrieve the packet of what he considered to be something akin to achievement stamps. A final well done from him to the patient, for being so courageous and letting Seonghwa poke them with a needle.
The rest of the appointment went by in a blur. The boy was safely back in his mother’s arms, sporting a colourful bandaid, babbling away about spaceships, quietly repeating Seonghwa’s dinosaur impression, and emphasising for the umpteenth time that ‘the injection actually did not hurt at all’, much to the mother’s delight. She looked to be on cloud nine as she held her bundle of joy, and even though he was bouncing on her lap to the point where the doctor would assume that she was in discomfort, the woman showed no sign, and instead gleamed at him, expressing genuine gratitude.
"So sorry for all the trouble and that I could not help in any way, please accept my-"
"No need no need! Junseo is such a sweet boy, and it was all his bravery in the end. I am just doing my job." He tried to assure her, flipping through the vaccination booklet she had provided and filling out the details of the shot. While checking the date just in case, despite him having a mental countdown to Christmas with the precision down to an hour practically built into his brain, he still noted the clock on his computer, memorising the time in order to figure out when approximately you would be done with the surgery you had arranged for this evening. Maybe he would have enough time to stop by your department, and manage to catch you there to ask about what plans for celebration you two would dare have in between busy schedules. His attention was guided back to the jovial duo on the armchair, as the mother spoke once more.
"You perform miracles, Doctor Park. Really. You are truly one of a kind! Before today I was convinced that he was wired to cry at every appointment..." she lowered her voice a little, just as Junseo turned away to pick at one of his trouser pockets.
"If you are worried about him developing any phobias and the like, I can recommend some amazing medical experts who can work with you and him?" Whenever anyone voiced a concern, he took it as part of his responsibility to respond wholeheartedly, and as such, once he completed the record, offered assistance. Perhaps this was also a safe zone for him, a removal from what otherwise would inevitably make his heart melt or ache. But to no avail.
"Oh no, no, I think I found the cure right here. Really, my husband will be so impressed about this!”
Husband. Happy family. There it was. Seonghwa felt the corner of his mouth twitch as he lifted himself off his chair, shut the booklet and returned it to the mother, and wife. It was difficult to convince himself that this was not jealousy tugging at his nerves and heartstrings, as the more he pondered the image of what had to be a perfect union, the dinners, the days out in the park, the little meet ups for lunch if either partner was otherwise busy… the domesticity got to him and made him want to slam the table in frustration. So, he did the next best thing, and clasped his hands behind his back so that he would not dare act out of line.
“Is that so?” he forced out, remaining composed as he returned the mother’s bows while she ushered her son forward and stood up to head for the door. He could not help but imagine the duo walking under the lights that adorned every shop, every street and coming home to their own tree, coming together as a small family in a cosy atmosphere. Similar routines, similar time off, the space to love and to live and to enjoy being ‘one’ to the fullest. 
“I think he will want to come with us next time, to meet you, really… of course if you don't mind us scheduling check-ups with you from now on?" meet him… so Seonghwa could see the whole assembly… Really, right in the moment when his head was filled with thoughts of you, he had to be reminded of just how adorable some aspects of paediatrics could be, to the degree of malicious irritation. 
He bet that the reason why you were so relaxed about your relationship was because you were not in direct contact with families and cute kids, for the most part. The closest you came to communicating with patients was in briefing, de-briefing and maintenance of their condition pre- and post- operation. He had to see the bad and good, the downs and ups, the rollercoasters and the memorable highs over long periods of time. Some of his patients he had known for so long, they were basically his relatives, and the personifications of sunshine that would rush to greet him, nearly stumbling over tiny shoes and sometimes barely reaching his waist, or even mid-thigh, restored his faith in the universe. It was exactly because he was aware of the downsides, and still desired this closeness and this next step with you, that he was cursing time itself for not allowing him to express this hope properly. Sure, you had discussed marriage, and both of you were more than committed to one another, but no words had been said about the part where someone popped the question. Was there ever going to be ‘the right time’? Especially when both of you were at the early stages of your medical careers, and were caught adrift in the chaotic shifts, training, exams and had to sacrifice yourselves for thousands who came through the doors of the hospital.
"Ah, whatever you would prefer, Missus Hwang. It would be an honour.” He squashed his nerves for the remainder of the appointment, and peacefully parted with the two visitors to KQ Hospital, wishing them the happiest holidays and for a stable recovery from the vaccination. 
Seonghwa remained standing in the corridor, his back propping the door to the office. Closing his eyes, he listened to the opening of the elevator, and let out a breath he did not know he had been holding once Junseo’s excited, shrill voice was muted by the doors. Gears moved into action as the machine carried the mother and son away from the paediatric ward. The doctor rolled his head in an attempt to relieve at least some of the tension that had built up from the back-to-back out-patient care, the abominable late nights, and the vexatious haze that plagued him in his own life.
It was going to be a long night. And he was barely a quarter of the way through his night shift; perhaps the winter cold and the shorter days were to blame for the melancholy mood. As he straightened himself up once more, Seonghwa instinctively reached for the phone that was hidden in the pocket of his black trousers, hoping for any kind of distraction. Checking the time, messages, whether you had even seen his text about the maintenance people coming to check the plumbing next week… any sign that there was a world beyond his job. But the communication flatlined, and he resorted to simply staring at his lockscreen: a picture of the two of you during that one vacation that you had managed to book together. The one where, three days in, both of you had severe work withdrawal, but thankfully laughed it off and soothed the pain by falling asleep in each other’s arms. That was what he missed. The simple things. If there was one thing he wished for this Christmas, it was for you and him to spend it together - no one else, no pagers going off incessantly, no family members intruding on your time, not even friends. He missed you, even though you were right there. Of course, he still felt blessed to be able to embrace you almost every time you two would be floating into dreamland - be it in the morning or in the evening, aside from when shifts did not align, but he craved more, always. Maybe he was being greedy, wanting for even more of your time. Nonetheless, he hoped that his readiness to sacrifice all of his for you would, at some point, result in his most romantic dreams, akin to castles in the sky, coming true. He wished to well and truly build a life with you. Seonghwa had never thought that he would pay so much attention to labels, but something about settling down officially, being together ‘in sickness and in health’, as he had heard in the vows at his friends’ weddings, was leaving him in a state of longing, constantly, until it was a permanent buzzing in his head.
"So... Doctor Seong-nyah-" rudely tearing through his daydreams, a familiar voice startled the doctor, causing him to gasp and shove his mobile phone into his pocket with panicked haste.
"Wooyoung, don't test me, you are not my patient." Seonghwa gasped, and retorted with sudden venom, spinning to face the man who, evidently, had been loitering around in the corridor behind him for a lot longer than he would ever accept.
"But I want a sticker or a bandaid please~"
But the action only resulted in a stupor, as right there, hands in pockets, the ghost of a mischievous smile on perfectly tinted lips, was his favourite person. Doctor L/N Y/N, neurosurgeon, and definitely the one who had changed his brain wiring to short circuit every time he saw you. Before Wooyoung got any cheekier due to the lack of a response and the less than discreet gawking from Seonghwa’s end, he forced out a random commentary; anything to keep himself from going into cardiac arrest.
"You keep stealing my Disney princess ones anyways!?"
"Can't help it. Besides I've seen you snatch the toy sword so consider us even."
A light blush was threatening to coat his cheeks as he gazed at you, mesmerised by your cheerful reaction. Without a doubt you were imagining the scene, and had you been alone, would coo at ‘just how endearing’ it was. This was not the kind of ‘break between appointments’ that he was imagining, and while you were here, before him, very obviously free, Seonghwa was questioning whether this was a manifestation of luck or a curse.
"That was for safety… and… uh… hello my love.” he mumbled, while you smiled at him, and gave him a gentle wave, already anticipating that even if you were to speak, you would crack and reveal what you had been planning - a major step forward that had been plaguing your mind at almost all hours, even in rare snippets of quiet. Technically, what you had said to Seonghwa was true - it had been an operation, just of a different kind. Careful to not let the mandatory Santa hat you had tugged on your head as part of your department’s senior residents’ effort to ‘keep the spirits up’ slip, you adjusted it to be more snug, and rapidly returned your attention to your boyfriend, who was intently studying you, admiring every detail as though he had not seen each one a million times over.
"Y/N here found the dinosaur impression cute, just so you know." Stuck in a limbo between locking himself in his office and throttling Wooyoung to the ground, Seonghwa chose neither and was simply amazed at how you could remain so nonchalant.
"Were both of you… listening to the… but that is not-”
You and Wooyoung exchanged a knowing look, causing suspicion to rise in Seonghwa. He was not fond of it. Not in the slightest. There was something brewing, and that glint in your eyes was less than reassuring. What were you hiding from him? A million questions a second ran through his mind as he subjected you to scrutiny. First off, you had said that the surgery could be challenging. And yet he could not detect the slight furrowing in your brows, the slouch, the pursed lips that you normally had if you were monitoring a patient in critical condition.
"They were around the department, and I just so happen to know that you are a certified clown so..." Wooyoung began, purposefully winding the taller man up until he was ready to break the Hippocratic oath and cause harm.
"Says the person who can literally replace the fire alarm with his-"
“This is why you should follow my methods and do the whole ‘energy drink and coffee” cocktail before those ghostly long shifts, I tell you-” crossing his arms, Wooyoung appeared to be enjoying every moment he spent teasing his fellow colleague, ignoring how you were starting to get impatient, glancing down the corridor and back to the bickering friends.
“How even-”
"Well, I would more than like to consult the lovely, charming clown please, because I have a whole circus on my hands and need some help.”
That was all that was needed to regain all attention back. Seonghwa gave Wooyoung one last sidelong stare before focusing on you, attempting to figure out just what you were scheming. He knew better than to pry, however, if there was anyone in your relationship who was an expert in dissecting, be it literally or metaphorically, it would be you. That was exactly why he stood and waited with bated breath, fingertips dancing on his upper thigh. In trepidation, the young man’s mind replayed every shared moment with unfathomable clarity, leading him to wonder if this mischievous glint in your stunning orbs was further foreshadowing, much like your sudden announcement that you would be working the same hours as him today, and upon questioning passed it off as “a bit of Christmas luck”. 
“Right…” Wooyoung’s voice appeared distant, barely audible against the thrum of nervousness and lighthearted suspicion. Running a hand through his wavy, neatly parted long hair Seonghwa gave you a lopsided grin before following you down the corridor and giving his colleague an amiable wave, along with a cheerful call of “see you later”. His friend had the whole night ahead of them - much like you and Seonghwa. Except, unfortunately, you and your partner were floors, departments away. Not that far in the grand scheme of things, but far enough for Seonghwa’s heart to start hurting when he least expected it.
Just like now, despite you being within arm’s reach, the proximity reminded him of just how much of a luxury such moments were, and how, should anything go wrong, you would metaphorically evaporate. The beeping of a pager would be enough to make you or him leave, that damned device having to be strapped on and prioritised above everything else. As less and less time remained until Christmas, the probability of it going off climbed higher and higher, so every step was a risk, and every scheduled consultation or out-patient care call when Seonghwa was mandated to hand off his monitoring duties to another resident - a temporary salvation.
You were in your scrubs, and were sporting a standard issue doctor’s coat, ever so professional. Though your back was facing him, Seonghwa could easily imagine the identity card clipped to the pocket above your heart, along with the embroidered hospital name and emblem, and your department. Neurosurgery. The top of the top, an art and a science so complex that Seonghwa was in awe of you eternally. How you dedicated your life to the mystery behind a person’s eyes, and how you could heal the terrifyingly enigmatic organ with astounding success. Determined, passionate in all ways, that was what had drawn the enamoured man to you, and what had made him fall deeper and deeper and vow to stay for as long as you would allow him. Would you be fine with him tagging along, just like this? Would you be willing to walk in the same stride?
“Hwa,” turning your head, you exclaimed your boyfriend’s nickname and then turned back to scan your pass to let you both through to another corridor, “how has your day been so far, lovely?”
“It’s been good, not too bothersome. Last appointment was a vaccination - not sure how or why the literal holidays were chosen for this, but who am I to judge,” looking around, Seonghwa responded. Quickly, he caught up to you, and in a matter of moments you felt how his fingers intertwined with yours, and his palm was pressed against you, as though a mirror image. Jigsaw pieces falling into a perfect union, your hands, stilled in harmony. 
“Maybe not everyone wants to skip school,” you mused, poking fun at the times when your boyfriend did just that - at least before university and him choosing to major in medicine hit like a truck; in the blissful middle and high school days, so easy in retrospect - a fever dream. 
“I’d love to hear what the little patient would think about that one… but really, Christmas? Why would you run the risk of having side effects over Christmas?”
“That’s true… but I bet you made the appointment a really good time. In fact, from what I have heard I am sure you did,” you teased, making Seonghwa squeeze your hand and click his tongue in pretend annoyance.
“Hey, I’m trying my best here-”
“-and you are making the world a better place,” you cut him off, squeezing back and urging him on, closer and closer to your final destination. 
Seonghwa shook his head, bewildered at the sudden outburst of affection. You were normally not the kind to get too sappy at work - if anyone, it was him who would gush about the simplest things to you during a brief lunch break, while you would be nodding along with a grin on your face. You were excited about something, without a doubt. What it was, however, was beyond him, so he let you lead, while playfully questioning your behaviour.
“What’s gotten into you? Did you forget to put the plates back in the cupboard at home?” he squinted, slightly relieved when you chuckled but still left without a concrete answer:
“Can’t I praise the love of my life every once in a while?”
“You can, but-”
“-Besides, Yeosang, you know, my friend from paediatric neurosurgery, he said kids who you had treated talk about you non-stop. Maybe you should pay some of them a visit. If their treating doctors allow it, of course.”
Eyes widening, Seonghwa barely noticed you slipping away from him to grab a large bag you had stationed by a heavy exit door, and in bewilderment was concerned if he should believe your overwhelmingly kind message. All those little lives he had the honour of getting to know and trying his best to help… remembering him? It was at times like these, even the hardest days were worth it. For the present and for the future. He returned to reality only when he felt a gust of freezing cold air hit his form and goosebumps ran over his skin. Your proud, loving smile greeted him and encouraged him to walk on. When Seonghwa attempted to query your spontaneous adventurism, you waved it off - forward, only forward. Making a note of something fluffy in texture peeking out of the bag, he hoped for it to be at least a scarf; a doctor should know to not expose themselves to the risk of colds. 
You led Seonghwa to one of the many secluded areas of the hospital - forgotten by most staff, this portion of the roof was the prettiest at night, when the lights of surrounding high rises and the rest of the metropolis stretching out as far as the eye could see all glimmered like a blanket of stars laid down on the precious planet. The city, forever awake, bustling with activity. A hand brushed against his upper arm, and he turned his head to see you holding his coat that he swore he had left in the call room. Gingerly, the article was in his grasp, and yet another question was travelling for you to tackle:
“Now when did you get this? I know I did not just leave it lying around.”
“Mhm, call room. Coat hanger. By the door. I am very aware. I picked it up on the way.”
“Sounds like someone had a lot of time…” trailing off, Seonghwa put on the coat, watching as you did the same. Apparently, that was not all that was in the bag, and with each item that was revealed, his surprise grew and grew.
“Just enough to prepare a little something,” in one swift movement, you caught your boyfriend off guard with sudden Santa hat attack - nearly covering his eyes with the white fluff, previously styled hair shooting out in different directions from under the accessory, you still deemed the mission successful, and giggled, elaborating: “now, we match.”
He could not not love you. Much like the nights in December were dark and his exhales turned to steam that was to be whisked away by the wind, he was confident in the fact that he was born to love you, and only you. It was funny to think that years ago he thought of other kinds of forever, only for them to fall apart in months. Seonghwa mused about different realities, but was never afraid of losing them until inevitably happened; not because he did not care at all, but because his heart was never in the right place. Now that his heart was home, it was clear. Most of all, the clearest sign of the truth that belonged to your relationship, was the subconscious fear, continuous and blended into every note of adoration. It was in his love for you that he found what it meant to be afraid to lose. 
The young man did not want to lose these priceless moments - how you would make an elaborate plan and surprise him with it. How out of nowhere, before his very eyes was a blanket that you laid down on the roof, a portable heater that emitted a glow akin to that of a campfire, and a large wool throw that he assumed you wished to use to keep you both warm. That shine that he swore was coming from something heavenly within you as you dragged him to take a seat, your adorable cooing over him as you wrapped the two of you tight with the throw, and scooched until your body was pressed against his. On instinct, Seonghwa’s arm was around you, and he leaned in until he could smell the faint, comforting aroma of your strawberry shampoo. Staring into the heater, he imagined a gentle flame, falling into a beautiful daydream - a world where there was just you and him.
This was a long-standing fantasy of his, a picture of which he had painted for you many times while you counted stars on the ceiling of your bedroom, drifting off to sleep just before the chirping of the birds, the dawn bidding you farewell and wishing a good rest. Somewhere nowhere, in a place with no name, surrounded by no one and nothing, you two could stay for a little while and indulge in simplicity. An escape from the daily stresses, a dive into the daily bliss of being enamoured and having found one’s soulmate. In a little cottage that you two could rent out, with a little spot outside so you could pretend like you were properly camping, Seonghwa prayed for time in an earthly utopia. 
“I couldn’t find sticks, So I hope you are fireproof,” a marshmallow was held between two delicate fingers right before his eyes. A large, white cloud and a hint that you might have been listening a lot more intently than you had let on. 
“I- are we- are we about to be toasting marshmallows?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” the doctor followed your lead, stretching out his hand to the heater, imagining the marshmallow roast away; if Seonghwa were to squint hard enough, he could almost see the colour change.
A giggle escaped you, and you huddled into him, at peace due to the safety which you always said he naturally oozed. Without fail you told him how he was a walking spring day, a blessing, a shining star. The more you said it, the more confident he became in accepting the words as truth, and then, one day when he caught you admiring him from afar while waiting for him to finish rounds, acceptance turned into a fact. By loving you, and by letting you love him, Seonghwa learned to love himself. Thoughts of fond memories prompted him to give you a gentle poke, making you lift your head in perplexion. This, however, was quickly dispelled by a the sweetest kiss, deepened by a gentle hand that found purchase on the nape of your neck.
Lips so familiar, so addicting; each time they met was the kindling of a miniature paradise. A journey through time, to end only in the future, the present turned into a miracle in which he could immerse himself, all of his senses attuned to you. The touch of your lips was the rays of a sun in May, kind and soothing, blossoming into the finest beauty and the most satisfying serenity on verdant green leaves and gorgeous flowers. The only thing he could hear was the breeze creeping across the not quite as picturesque cement and metal, and the ghost of a mumble of “I love you” as you parted for air, still close enough to share it.
Lost in your eyes, Seonghwa wished he could never be found. He was willing to endlessly draw the maze that trapped him in them, adapting it to formulate a personal infinity. Eyelashes, eyebrows, nose, cheeks, lips, every blemish and freckle and scar were all priceless to him. You, in all your personal divinity, a universe that so intently studied him, loved every part unconditionally and invited him in to do the same. A symbiosis, a system of two stars orbiting one another - a gorgeous celestial waltz was how he saw you and him. Under the night sky full of constellations, you two were still the brightest. Seonghwa’s heart was full. He ever so softly let his hand slide to the side of your face, thumb gliding slowly over the skin of your cheek. Once, twice - perpetual motion, each one marking another second in which love grew stronger, and the yearning for his dream more intense. If only he could put it into words. And yet, courage only allowed him to muster a mere two which were far too general, ambiguous:
“Thank you.”
“I am glad we could do this,” you answered, sharing in his delight. You did not need anything else, seeing past the mellow, pleasant triviality.
“I think the only downside is that now I want to do this all the time,” his hand guided your head into the crook of his neck, so you could sit side by side, looking out into the urban expanse. Silence weighed on you, until a long-awaited suggestion reached Seonghwa’s ears.
“Well… we could. At least for Christmas.” 
“As if we will be taking days off, yeah.”
“Who says we won’t?”
“I- huh?” 
You took his hands in yours, and shuffled for you to be face to face. Much to your astonishment, when it came down to the critical moment when you would start being blatantly obvious in your intentions, you were not as anxious anymore. Everything felt more than right, and the comfortable quietude resembled the globe holding its breath for you. 
“I have an idea,” your boyfriend was intrigued, but doubtful. He had hopes, sure, but he knew better than to keep them up, “so… ahem, well, for us it is standard practice to not schedule anything major on holidays, just in case, and thankfully I could… reschedule some things…”
“Uh-huh,” he nodded along, raising his eyebrow. Your hands held his more tightly on their own accord, shaking a little as you spoke.
“Well, so, yeah, you know how the head of… the head of paediatrics is a big family person right?”
“Yeah, comes with the job I suppose, and?” tongue darting over his lips, Seonghwa began to sense what you were getting at, and he swore there was not enough oxygen to sustain him, and a dizziness settled over his mind, clouding it, leaving behind only you, you, you-
“Hm… well… I think they would be more than happy to let a new family celebrate together… yeah?”
“...Yeah…yeah?”
“So what I’m saying is-”
“Will you marry me?”
“Beat me to it,” gleaming, you pulled him in, stopping a mere few millimetres away, seeking approval.
Hints of tears welling in his deep brown eyes induced your own. Pressed forehead to forehead, you memorised every tiny detail, how you felt, how Seonghwa felt, how you were both fondly mumbling ‘yes's and ‘always’s and ‘I love you’s over and over again; vows uttered at the beginning of a new chapter of a miraculous life, in perfect harmony.
“I’m sorry for the ‘no ring’ situation-”
“I’d marry you with paper rings,” Seonghwa responded at the speed of light, quoting one of the many songs that both of you loved to listen to, and would blast in the living room many times over, “how did you even plan this-”
“Don’t bash me, but Wooyoung was an accomplice-”
“Of course he was,” he flicked your nose with his and guided you into another kiss, your hat sliding away and almost falling to the ground, saved only by Seonghwa’s reflexes. Smiling against your lips, he only deepened the sensual expression of devotion, parting simply to confess,
“To think we were rehearsing the same thing but I was too scared to say it.”
“You are too precious. And I’m sorry if I’m too scary, angel,” you winked, earning an amused, airy laugh.
This could not be the furthest from how Seonghwa felt; the notion of you terrifying him was hilarious. Everything but you was the issue. You were his safe haven, his clarity. The one to whom he had already given away all his hours, be it in closeness or in his dreams both in the day and night. You were his and he was yours, and now that the one change he had been begging all the goodness in the galaxy for finally happened, he wanted to shout this from every rooftop, starting from this fated, isolated spot that must have been made for just you two. 
“No, I am just more certain that you can read minds,” he gestured to the heater, the untouched marshmallows, the stars, and finally stopped at you, alluding to what was to be your proposal, turned mutual.
“Just because I poke around brains-” you began, only to be stopped by unparalleled cuteness in the form of a scrunched up face and a tiny smirk.
“Yeah, yeah, you aren’t even a cardiologist and you stole my heart-”
“Park Seonghwa, cease the flirting, we are getting married-” playfully, you slap his shoulder.
“Oh, you only saw the beginning,” a wiggle of the eyebrows. Your very soul fluttered at the sight of his megawatt grin, and the innocent peck left on your cheek.
“...I hope so,” your wish. To cherish the many sides, colours, shades, edges, angles of your spectacular Seonghwa.
“It’s decided. I’ll hit you with all the festive pick up lines starting tomorrow.”
As you settled back into an embrace, regarding the golden glow of your inner oasis that transposed onto all, previously dark, surroundings, you unwillingly played the role of the realist.
“Ask your department head first.”
“For a blessing?”
“No, silly, to confirm your freedom.”
“Yes, Doc’,” in jest, your fiance saluted you, and you wrapped your arms tighter around his waist, brushing your jaw against his shoulder.
“Page me after."
“I will page myself across the hospital to tell you.”
“Awh, my Seonghwa Claus and my present in one,” absent-mindedly, you reached for a stubborn strand of his hair to push away, and twirled it around your digits, careful to not ruin the perfect balance of the themed hat beneath which they tried to establish their own order, threatening to disturb your elated angel. 
“My future spouse- oh I’ll be saying this so often.” 
From one day to the next, under the sun and moon, with many seasons passing by, you became the time that you seeked and previously fought against. As you looked to one another for more and more in your lives, it was destined that eventually, the idea of any other path would be simply impossible. At the end of a year came a new beginning, witnessed by the observant stars and by the long winter night.
“Me too, my love, until I can call you my husband.”
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fangweaver2099 · 4 months ago
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𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 1
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MINORS DNI 18+ FIC
You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.
Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.
You’re still a virgin.
You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.
DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”
College was for new experiences after all.
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CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)
PART 2
DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.” 
You squint at the request - you can see his icon is his torso.
You knew you had to snoop - be careful. The classic teen girl not wanting to be abducted shit. His skin was tanned - pale palms and even skintone told you he wasn’t a white guy. NYC was a melting pot - so you weren’t about to think too hard about it. You scroll through his writings. Most were boring and formal. You debate reading over the ‘contract template’ he had posted but decide against it.
His pictures are, mostly, not entirely him. A few torso shots showing off dark hair and abs - or more casual showing off a normal looking body of a dude who clearly worked out. The others are a few different women in different states of undress smothered in bondage ropes, always a bright red. The one that intrigues you the most again has the face censored by a black bar, but she’s hung upside down against the wall, diamonds of rope on her thighs as she’s suspended before red rope that was weaved into a massive spider web. He was a fan of spiders - the user name made sense.
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The photos were old, from 2016 at the newest. The photos of him were new - posted just 6 months ago.
His wall was what told a touch of his story. You scroll down dozens of posts, women and men acting friendly or asking to meet up again. You wonder if he used to be a community person, the anon nature of his account was new? Could you check on the wayback machine? 
You tab back into his chat.
“hey. are you really 6’9? ” - Fawnteeth - 10:19 PM
 10:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You think I’d lie about that?”  
“maybe. I know a lot of guys who lie about their height, I’m tall enough to tell.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM
 10:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Smart to ask. Yes, I am really 6’9”. Is height a big seller for you?”  
“when you’re a tall woman, it is.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM
 10:21 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You want me to make you feel small. Noted.”
“what had you messaging me? you seem popular.” - Fawnteeth - 10:21 PM
 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ve been in the scene for a long time, made my way around. Your interests line up and you seem at least somewhat concerned about your own anonymity.”  
“here I thought you’d say you found me pretty.” - Fawnteeth - 10:22 PM
 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Shallow compliments hardly get us anywhere. Besides, that’s a given.”  
“well, thank you anyway. need to keep this and my personal life separate, like you I see.” - Fawnteeth - 10:23 PM
 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ “We all have our secrets and reasons to keep them.”  
“serial killer sorta secrets?” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM
“I’m kidding.” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM
 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you believe me if I said no?”  
“I can try. it’s not like you’re a blank profile, web.” - Fawnteeth - 10:25 PM
 10:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Maybe you shouldn’t. Things like that are easy to fake. You’re clearly trying to keep a secret, which means if I met up with you no one would know where you went. Would be a good tactic if  I was preying on little girls.”
You stare at his message for a moment, forcing in a quick breath you sit up as your bed creaks. Okay, time to take things a bit more seriously.
“Good thing I’m not a little girl. I do appreciate the concern, it’s attractive.” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM
 10:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Lot’s of untrustworthy people on sites like this. Ones that will lull you into a sense of security.”  
“Trust me, I’m well aware. You think I should be afraid of you?” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM
 10:28 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes. You can’t trust me right away.”
“Well, I like the honesty. I don’t think I have any plans to meet up with anyone soon - not even you.” - Fawnteeth - 10:30 PM
 10:30 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Of course you don’t. You’re new at this.”
“Did I really give it away that quickly?” - Fawnteeth - 10:31 PM
 10:31 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”
You stare at the screen for a long moment, eyes wide. How the hell do you reply to that? Is he ending the conversation? Did you already fuck things up? At this point, most men would be falling over themselves to impress you, not making you feel intimidated . You feel your core throb as you click back to his profile, scrolling over dozens of comments on his wall from years ago - the fact is, his profile spans back years. Longer. He’s experienced, and… he isn’t wrong, either. 
“Is that a problem? I hope it isn’t. You’re the first dude who hasn’t asked me for nudes yet.” - Fawnteeth - 10:32 PM
 10:34 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No. You should be more careful though, me explaining that and this is something you should be suspicious of. Wanting to ‘protect’ you because you’re young and need to be taught the ropes, so to speak.”  
“Got it, Sir.” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM
“Wait, can I call you that?” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM
You cringe, placing the laptop on the bed for a moment. Shit - you’ve already messed up.
 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “That’s acceptable. If you ever call me ‘Daddy’ however I will block you.”  
 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “That’s not a joke.” 
You open your eyes, glancing over at the chat and his two messages. Raising a brow, you lean in, shifting the laptop back into your lap. 
“Understood. Not my thing.” - Fawnteeth - 10:35 PM
 10:36 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “What is your thing, Fawn?”
“Well… I like giving up control… Feeling like prey. I’ve always loved deer, something about being so fiercely defenseless as a fawn in a wolf’s maw is thrilling.” - Fawnteeth - 10:37 PM
 10:37 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No wonder you brushed over the red flags.”
“Maybe.The whole giving up control is why most submissives are here, aren’t they?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:38 PM
 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The illusion of giving up control. Any good dominant knows the submissive is the one with the power. Safe words, limits, contracts - it all relies on knowing they can end things whenever they want to explore it safely.”  
“Of course.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM
 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Of course? So you have those things ready for me?”  
“ Safe words and how I prefer them - yes. Limits, I think so. Contract - no. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM
 10:42PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I need one for slow down/ease up and one for an immediate stop. I also need a physical sign if you are unable to say your safe words. Please list them.”  
 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Send me 4 lists: Favorites, Yes, Maybe, and No not ever. Include everything you can think of. If you do not include something that I am interested in I will ask about it and we will consider it a maybe until you’ve had time to consider it and possibly research.”
 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You will not need a premade contract. I have a basic format we can edit to our needs. If it goes that far.”  
“Is the green, yellow, red method good with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM
 10:44 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”
“That’s good.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM
“...And I'll get you the other things - do you have any hard nos I should know of?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM
10:45 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Send me yours and we’ll go from there.”  
“Okay.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:45 PM
You take your time in a Google document, carefully considering your late-night Archive Of Our Own feed. Anxiety tells you to rush, but you get the energy that Web isn’t the kind of guy who wants you to rush.
“ Will you click links? Google Docs. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:55 PM
 10:55 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ I applaud you if you somehow hack me from a google docs link. I have a very good firewall as a warning. ” 
You couldn’t help but grin at his reply - you’re charmed by him. Oh no.
“I’d figure as much. Here.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM
“ [Google Docs Link] “ - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM
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 10:57 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ll ask specifics soon but I want to be clear about this - I want something in person, but that is not on the table until the end of the summer. I have obligations. If that is a problem I don’t want to waste your time.” 
“That’s fine. I know we’re both in NYC. I’m kinda glad as I don’t think I’m ready to meet up soon anyway.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM
 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Gives us time to get to know each other and learn expectations.
“Then it sounds like we’re on the same page.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM
 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good. Due to this being a distance-based arrangement for the time being I cannot touch you myself; Have you heard of a lovense?”
“I have. Aren’t those expensive?”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM
 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Money isn’t a concern for me, and anything I get you is a gift. The only expectation is to use whatever I provide. Acceptable?”
“Yes. I don’t take pictures or videos with my face in them.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM
 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I noticed.”
 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Neither do I. That isn’t a problem.” 
“Glad to hear that.” -   Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM
“...So…”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM
 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Your list says nothing about exhibitionism. If I were to tell you to wear your lovense during the day would that be acceptable?”
For a moment you stare at his message. Now that you’re not under your father’s roof, you have free reign to do whatever, and it’s honestly not like your roommates haven’t done weirder, less appropriate shit in far more public spaces. 
“That’s fine as long as I’m not visiting family. I live somewhere else.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM
 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You say you like roleplay. Are there specific scenarios you’re interested in?”
“Do you know what dead by daylight is?” -  Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM
 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I can’t say I do.”
“...Well. I wasn’t joking about the idea of enjoying being hunted. I guess. Kinda embarrassing to admit to a stranger.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM
 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Does that embarrassment excite you, Fawn?”
“Maybe.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM
 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I expect yes or no answers. If you’re not sure say so.”
“Yes, then.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM
 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good girl. What do you want me to do when I catch you?”
There’s no hesitation, no doubt in the message. What do you want when I catch you. Not would you want, not if I caught you. When. You can’t help but squirm. For a moment, you consider pacing your tiny, cluttered bedroom.
“Is whatever you want the wrong answer?”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM
“I might be new, but I think I’m kinda open. I want to please, I suppose.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM
 11:01 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Not at all a wrong answer.”
 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Have you ever been spanked before? You said it was a favorite.”
“Yes.” - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM
You bite your lip - it technically isn’t a lie. You have been spanked - just… not sexually. It’s fine .
 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Would you be willing to use a paddle, crop or belt in my absence if I believe you need punishment?”
“I’m not sure. I have a very high pain tolerance, but I don’t live alone, sound is a concern.”   - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM
 11:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Not a problem. Making a small list for a care package if you show me potential is all.” 
“Well, what can I do to impress you, Sir?”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM
“I don’t mind homework, for lack of a better word.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM
 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Eager, aren’t you? I’m not done.”
 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Dirty talking. What are your limits, and do you have a specific pet name you want me to use?”
“I like Fawn, obviously. Affectionate things, I think it’s better figuring it out organically. Feels more genuine.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:04 PM
 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And no humiliation.”
 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Understood.”
 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I have rules. It’s better that I tell you about them early. They’ve scared most people off.”
“ Well. I won’t pass judgment immediately.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM
“I don’t cut my hair.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM
 11:05 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I would be disappointed if you did. Speaking of, I only allow my submissive to trim their pubic hair for one, no shaving it.” 
“That’s fine with me. I haven’t shaved anything in a while.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM
 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ If you are going to be unavailable for more than a few hours I expect an explanation so I know you are safe. I don’t allow my partners to go to clubs or bars without me either. If this becomes serious I expect you to download a location tracking app so I know where you are at all times.”
“Okay. That’s fine. I don’t go out much.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM
 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I am not polyamorous. If you want to be mine you are only mine, and I will hold myself to the same standard.”
“That’s fine with me. I have been talking to someone else, but about as much as you at this point. Honesty and all that stuff.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM
 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I don’t let things I own go into disrepair; You will take care of yourself and report what you don’t complete. Punishments will be given if you do not complete these tasks.”
 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The basic daily requirements are the following: Three meals a day, showering every day, an hour of exercise and a consistent bedtime during weekdays.”
“Okay. Did this really scare people off?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM
 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “People have called me controlling. It sounds like you want to surrender your control though.” 
“Not wrong.” - Fawnteeth   - 11:07 PM
 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You’re not hard to read.”
“I’ll try and take it as a compliment.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM
 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Deception and confusion are a waste of time. Own it.”  
“I’ll try my best. I’m used to being considered odd.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM
 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Are you?”
“I’m on fetlife. So, yes.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM
 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I suppose.”
 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ We already established you’re new to this. Will I be your first dominant?”
“Yes. Not my first partner.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM
 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Were they not interested in this?”
“I never brought it up to them. I don’t really want romance right now.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM
 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “And if you fall for me?”
“I’d rather talk about it then, I suppose. I don’t get the vibe from you that you’re looking for romance, just a pet.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM
 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good, and no, not right now.”
“But you think I’ll fall in love with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM
 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re young and inexperienced. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” 
 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ My last important rule - no drugs, limited alcohol. If you drink you must have friends with you that are reliable or myself. Drinking and doing drugs is just asking to put yourself in a vulnerable situation. It’s a precaution some have complained about.” 
With how much he spoke of other people not liking his rules it was almost like he was trying to talk you out of it.
“That’s fine. I celebrated my 21st by watching movies.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM
 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What movies?”  
“Midsommar, it’s my favorite. Silence of the lambs too. Roomies insisted on watching Barbie after that. lol ” - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM
 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You like horror.”
“Yes. I thought the ghostface poster in my 3rd photo gave it away.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM
 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And you’d like him or some other violent thing to chase you down and do whatever they wanted with you instead of killing you.”
 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It must make watching movies with a group tense if that’s what is going through your mind.” 
“I won’t say it doesn’t.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM
 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Let me guess: some part of you likes the discomfort?” 
“Honestly. I haven’t thought about it. Probably.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM
 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I think you’d like to walk around with a lovense in you, never knowing when I might turn it on or increase the settings. You enjoy suspense.”
“ It’s appealing, yeah.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM
You sit back on your bed, propping up the laptop with your pillows. Why did you love that this guy was reading you like an open book? You take in a deep breath, remember - play it cool.
 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What do you want out of all of this?” 
“My first thought is sex - but also to learn myself a bit more, I guess. Explore something with a partner I can trust… Please someone, feel better about myself. Like I said - I’m a tall woman, it doesn’t exactly make you feel pretty.”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM
 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good."  
You bite your lip, reading over the message on your dimly lit phone screen over and over again. Curling up tighter into the cotton blanket on your bed, you exhale, the cheap mattress creaking underneath you. You flinch, eyes flickering towards the shut door of your bedroom. Your heart flutters in your chest for a few moments until silence rings in your ears. 
You haven’t woken up any of your roommates.Thank god. 
Sighing, you turn your attention back to your phone, looking over the message again.
 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good." 
Usually men are more expressive in their text speech when it comes to you - to the extent that some even make you uncomfortable. But WebRigger2099… is very much not . You’ve dubbed him 'Web' in your head, easy enough with his username. 
Web is formal, speaks with proper punctuation and never a single spelling mistake or emote. He’s direct, not flowery or soft in any way. But… you kind of like that. Direct is easy. There’s no guessing games with instructions and meanings laid out plainly.
 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 -“ You are very pretty, by the way. ” 
You blush.
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abbyslev · 4 months ago
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dad nanami and his girly daughter🩷🩷
a/n: lazy little story (not spell checked or anything lol) . in need of a loving father so i wrote this up for my 1. daddy issues girls and 2. all my mua babies who want nothing but to help people feel beautiful in life🩷
dad nanami who has no idea about girl products, no idea what girls like or what stuff to get you for holidays.
your mother passed a while after your birth. guess he couldn’t protect people outside of the sorcerer world either. once you manifested your own technique, he came back to the world, just for the sake of you having a shot in life. he promised he would never let you get in dangers way.
he tried his best to give you the girl talk. he researched and did his best, even got shoko to give you a one on one.
he would come into your room at night to talk to you and check in, watching your tv play as your chest rose and fell with soft breaths filling the room. a young girl about your age applied cream products to her face, showcasing a before and after of how well her skin did. is this what you liked? is this was interested you?
nanami didn’t know what girls liked. you didn’t really pick up books or liked to study like he did when he was your age. you liked hanging out with your friends and make funny dance videos with them.
you would facetime him and show him all the stuff you got in tokyo with nobara and maki. the girls all giggled as you showed your dad products, a smart “he doesn’t know what that is!” from makis mouth. she was right. nanami had no idea what “concealer” or a “night cream” was. he washed his face with water and moisturized with whatever looked okay.
so he learned.
nanami learned what the newest products were, what shade you liked in everything, the best new products for the best results. when your birthday came around, he made you sleep in his room.
it was normal. you liked sleeping close to him, you have since you were a kid. he co slept with you, trying to figure out how to get you to stop crying, sleep deprived, missing his wife.
when you walked into your room, nanami removed the blindfold from your eyes. your mouth dropped, eyes pooling with tears.
once where an old bookshelf sat, a brand new vanity with every product you have ever wanted sat before you. from perfumes, skincare, makeup, hair clips, brushes, everything.
“do you like it?” “i freaking LOVE it!” you squealed. nanami sat on the edge of your bed while you opened everything, eyes excited and hands shaking. “you’re the best dad ever!” you hug him tight. “i’ll go make breakfast.” he kisses your head. “nobara is gonna lose her mind!” you cheese up at him, warming his heart.
nanami couldn’t ask for a better gift than you being his light in his dark world.
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moonbaby26 · 13 days ago
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Title: The Gift
*Crossposted to AO3 Here*
Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Viola/Violet (mentioned)
Warnings/Notes: My belated Doffy birthday oneshot 😅! Reader is female coded, but no explicit gender/pronouns are referenced (unless I missed one). Language. Age difference. Dubious consent. Male ejaculation, and some actual fluff this time?
Synopsis: Being such a vain and self-centric man, one would expect elaborate public birthday celebrations for Dressrosa’s king. But as the newest member of Doflamingo’s crew, you’re surprised to find that this isn’t the case. And you don’t think that’s right. So you resolve to give him a very personal gift anyway, to quite unforeseen (at least to you) results.
Fic Masterlist
———————————
Doflamingo didn’t celebrate his birthday any longer.
This tidbit of information about your new master was dropped so casually one afternoon as you and Baby 5 worked together to clean blood and viscera off of the stonework. 
The two of you were together in some dark room the Donquixote captain didn’t want the normal palace maids to venture into. A special interrogation space you now dumped another bucket of soapy water over.
It wasn’t your place to ask any questions though. You had only lived in Dressrosa for the last six months. 
You were the payment Doflamingo had taken when your previous owner couldn’t cough up enough for a weapons debt in time.
Yes, your last master had likely ended up in a room much like this one. Because you’d never seen that abusive old man ever again. 
But you were a logia user. And that qualification had seemed good enough for Doflamingo to allow you this new chance within his own ranks instead.
So you did not complain. And you did not step out of line. You only followed orders just as faithfully as all these pirates that had lived with him years before you had. 
But you still wondered.
You wondered why it bothered you that no one was supposed to acknowledge the day their leader had been born.
The one day that should really be his.
You were still so skeptical of this, that you even paid more attention to the goings on in town over the next week. Looking for any hint of even the most subtle celebration plans or decorations for the people’s king.
But there were none.
And within the palace, Giolla was who you most often were assigned to and shadowed. When you realized even she showed no interest in making artwork for the king’s upcoming cumpleaños as they called it here, that was when you finally knew they must be serious.
His birthday had been removed from all outward recognition, both within his own kingdom and private “family”.
It was such an odd notion, for how extravagant of a man Doflamingo seemed to be.
But you supposed you didn’t really know him either. In the entire six months you’d lived within his home, you didn’t think you’d had more than a few words directed at you from his grinning lips. And they had only ever been emotionless commands.
Ones you dutifully followed.
And you were okay with this arrangement. Because you had been purchased fairly. Your life preserved in exchange for being little more than a warm blooded machine. Simply another tool among all his others.
Yet you still kept thinking about him and this erasure of his birth. It felt so wrong to you.
Somehow even more wrong than the toys you sometimes heard crying in the underground port after midnight, or the blood you and Baby 5 cleaned up again and again from those equally hidden dungeons.
You lay awake in your room for hours actually, on the night before his birthday, until an idea finally came to you.
You had a need to do something about your feelings. You were very thankful to have a roof over your head after all. You were thankful to have a reliable supply of food, and you were thankful to be in the aura of this warlord’s protection in the violent New World.
It was a compulsion by that point really, to repay him in even some small way.
So you sat up in your bed and got to work then and there, inspired just the way you supposed Giolla always spoke of being. 
Your hands hardened as you summoned your power, yet also becoming fully transparent all at once while your fingers still moved nimbly.
You were a human made of glass.
Clear and flawless as your creation began to ebb from your own fingertips.
You could shape and alter it as easily as if it were molten. But you didn’t need heat to do this. Everything was still a part of you as you shaped one flower petal after another.
It became a large rose in full bloom. No stem, but the base of the flower was as wide as both of your palms put together soon enough. The candlelight’s glow in your room played through those rippling surfaces, casting prismatic reflections in every direction as you smiled.
But it still wasn’t special enough then. It wasn’t personal enough as you felt it needed a second element. 
Which wasn’t easy. It took you multiple attempts actually as you tried to shape a bird nestled within this blooming rose. 
A flamingo of course. But the neck was so slender, it kept drooping before you could harden it properly. And if you made it too hard, you were afraid it would hold tension and fracture before long.
So you compromised.
You let that flamingo rest its head, smoothing it with your still clear fingertips as you curved the neck down for the bird to lay its beak against its wing.
As if it were asleep. An elegant flamingo, content and peaceful in the bloom of a rose. The final glass was pristine in its clarity of course, with all the facets you’d created catching the light in such a way that it fully sparkled while you cupped it in your hands with admiration.
You loved it.
And the next day when you went into Doflamingo’s empty office as part of your regular task of filing his completed contracts for him, you left this gift on his desk while you took that stack of paperwork in exchange.
Yet you put no note with your gift. You didn’t even leave it in the center of his desk like a focal point, as you would never be that brazen or prideful.
No, you simply left it to the side. It could be little more than an ornate paper weight for all it mattered. He could discard it if he chose to.
And that would be alright. A gift was the receiver’s to do with as they wished after all.
But at least you now knew he would have a present. He would not be ignored on his own day.
And that thought made you very happy.
But hours passed easily within his palace. Neither Giolla, nor Trebol had any further special instructions for you that day. So by the time the sun had set again, you were alone once more in your bed.
Reading by candlelight as you often did. The palace library was available to any of the Donquixote crew, and its contents occupied you well in any downtime you found.
The story for tonight was interesting too, but not so different than those you’d read before. Just another handsome protagonist, and his rather oblivious lover to be.
It was quite predictable, but still enough to make you giggle once the two characters finally found themselves alone.
You knew exactly where this was going.
And you had been turning those pages just a bit faster in that anticipation before your small transponder snail suddenly awakened to startle you.
Of course you still answered immediately, expecting a late night order. Perhaps a request to join your fellow lower ranks in the underground harbor. Sometimes the pirates there got rowdy, trying to back out of prior agreements. But you were much less destructive than Trebol when restraining them.
“Yes?” You had answered in your calm way, ready for almost anything.
“Come to my office. Now.”
Anything but that as the young master’s impatient tone filled your ears instead.
“Yes, sir.” You said anyway.
The snail clicked, disconnecting from his side first as you dropped your book and practically leapt from the bed.
No one kept Doflamingo waiting.
So much so that you didn’t bother with shoes, or even changing.
You were barefoot, just in a nightgown that fluttered to your knees as you pulled a jacket on over it and hurried out and down the hall.
Your master’s office was on a higher floor. Always like ascending to where you would never truly belong as your feet took the staircase two steps at a time.
But there was no one else in the dark palace corridors. Nothing to speak of panic or a rallying of the troops at all to protect the island.
Yet as you pulled down on the golden door handles to open those carved double doors that led to his workspace, you had still expected to see more of the Donquixote crew.
Never once had you been here alone with him.
Until tonight.
“Close the doors.” He ordered.
And you still did so with no hesitation, then walking towards Doflamingo’s desk with your hands clasped subserviently in front of you below your waist.
You didn’t even ask for an explanation. You simply looked at him, awaiting further instruction.
But his large chair was pulled farther from his desk than normal. He was slouched back in it with his shirt fully open and oddly wrinkled.
One of his long legs was crossed over the other. But his foot was moving slightly, bouncing a little like letting out tension the rest of his body would not yet portray.
“Did you make this?” Doflamingo asked in such an odd tone, yet immediate and to the point as one of his fingers tapped the desk.
Your eyes finally broke away from him to look down at that glass rose you’d created with the flamingo still resting peacefully within the spread petals.
He had moved it dead center on his desk now.
“Yes, sir.” You answered simply, your voice still soft.
But that was when his posture changed.
“Why?” He asked you as he straightened up in his chair.
And you felt your hands tighten against one another. Yet, you were simple. You didn’t think ahead, or plan and strategize. Everything was only what it was and nothing more.
You always told the truth.
“I wanted to give you a gift. I’m thankful to be allowed to stay here, young master.”
And you saw his facial muscles contort slightly. 
Like he didn’t know what expression to make.
“But today? You chose today to do this…” He sounded strangely unsure. Irritated too, as only one of his large hands easily scooped up that glass artwork that had taken both your palms to carefully hold.
“Yes.” You again answered honestly. “I wanted you to have something even if we aren’t allowed to celebrate.”
His brow furrowed. But you did not see any bulging vein. He wasn’t fully angry, not yet. He didn’t seem to know what to do. 
And perhaps that was the root of this frustration.
“How old are you?” Doflamingo asked suddenly.
“Twenty.” 
He muttered a curse under his breath at this seemingly unpleasant answer. And you saw his leg shift, that movement of his foot getting a little faster.
“Well…hoy tengo cuarenta años. Es demasiado.” He finally told you in return, switching briefly to the native language of this island as he frowned. Like he couldn’t admit this number out loud, to you or himself otherwise.
And his fingers were still moving over your gift, tracing all those edges while he held it.
“I’ve waited hours today…wondering what to do about this.” He said again then. “I even brought Violet in here earlier to try and alleviate it...” And he gestured unabashedly at the messy state of his clothing that you had noticed on first arrival.
But only then as his arm moved did you see the smear of dark lipstick against his rib cage beneath that open shirt.
And that was the very first thing that finally brought a tinge of heat to your face.
“It’s…just a gift, young master.”
“It isn’t.” He corrected you so surely that you lowered your head like a scolded pup.
And you heard the resulting growl which came from that too.
“You’re too damn innocent.” He lamented. “And I’m twice your fucking age now.”
Said as if this was somehow all your fault.
His crossed legs shifted again too, like he was struggling with himself. “You don’t even have a man in town, do you? You just sit alone in your room all the time…doing what exactly?”
“I read.” You felt that coil of embarrassment in your stomach now rising to meet the heat still creeping downward from your face.
But he scoffed, a much crueler noise. “And think about me as you do? Clearly you must.” He held the glass rose up higher then, almost as if it were indisputable evidence in this sudden trial against you.
He was starting to sound genuinely angry now.
“I’m sorry, young master.” You tried.
“You can’t do these things and expect no consequence.” Doflamingo chided you harshly, as if you really were a fool.
A fool that he owned.
“Come here.” He commanded you in that renewed authority as he set your gift back to the center of his desk.
You followed the gesture of his fingers without question. He didn’t even have to use his strings as you walked around his desk to stand before his chair.
“You can’t show me affection and think nothing would come of it…” He warned only briefly. 
And it felt too dangerous to try and apologize further. You were silent as your eyes watched only those red lenses of his sunglasses. 
You did know enough not to dare look away from him now.
“I’m not going to fuck you. But you are going to let me get this feeling out.” He said darkly. “So just be quiet and we’ll be done soon enough. Then you can go back to your paper fantasies instead.”
There was not even an implication of wanting your permission in his mocking words either. He was telling you what was about to happen just before those long legs abruptly uncrossed and you were pulled between them.
And you still gasped as the clothed erection he’d been hiding this entire time now pressed up hard against your bottom in his lap.
He didn’t even give you time to process. He was already thrusting that sharp bulge against your nightgown within moments.
His large hands fisted within that same thin fabric beneath your jacket as he groaned quietly.
You felt him inhale deeply next, taking in your scent as he curved his spine enough to lean down into your smaller frame.
It was like being encapsulated, a monstrous snake constricting itself around a small prey when the smallest flick of wet met the side of your face simultaneously.
Just the very tip of his tongue, only a tiny taste of you before before those large hands tightened on your hips.
Doflamingo pulled you harder against his own, bruising your skin beneath your clothes you were sure while his pace quickened even further.
“You smell so good.” He practically hissed against you. “You’re so soft too…”
His long fingers easily squeezed into your thighs as well, even as he didn’t release your hips.
And you must still be in some sort of shock really. Because somehow you didn’t feel afraid. 
You just let him do it. 
It was his birthday. He was your master.
And you were what he wanted, in this moment at least.
He never lifted your nightgown though. He never opened his pants.
But you could feel his body heat, and his desperation. A shame that outweighed any you should have had.
It was his loneliness. It was his need.
And it was mercy towards you.
Your master was giving you his rarest gift in return.
He could have taken your virginity here and now. He could have shattered you with his haki on only a whim, logia user or not.
Doflamingo was fully in control of you, and honestly just enough in control of himself that he did not truly harm you.
His breath only quickened as time seemed to draw to a standstill for you. It felt both like forever, and not long enough at all.
And still you didn’t feel wronged. 
The humiliation was only his instead, whenever you finally felt him stiffen further, grunting before he shuddered and that new heat blossomed against the underside of your thighs.
You were still sitting tightly on his bulge, and the wetness of his release wicked through those meager layers of fabric so easily.
He’d fully cum on himself within his pants. The king of Dressrosa had done this in a private moment with you, then hugging his arms around your waist as he rested briefly, recovering from that surprisingly heavy orgasm.
“Happy birthday to me…” Doflamingo chuckled despite himself, still sounding a bit overwhelmed in this instance while he gradually came down.
“Happy birthday, young master.” You answered tentatively, almost in a whisper.
But he allowed it now. He even squeezed you a little more. And it didn’t feel fully sexual then. He wanted something to hold onto.
He wanted comfort.
“Thank you.” The Heavenly Demon said to you, the young one who was surely only another of his many pets.
But he meant it.
And maybe by his next cumpleaños he would be able to do more. Maybe by then you would be ready to be more than just the one he wanted both to consume and to hold tonight.
Maybe you’d been the oblivious lover to be all along. 
Regardless, whatever happened now, you wouldn’t be laughing at those characters in the books any longer.
If you’d even be reading them much at all. Because you might have someone else needing all of your free time now.
Someone far more sensitive than he’d ever let on as he kept you in his lap while he reached for your artwork again, moving it back closer to the edge of the desk so it better caught the light from the small chandelier above.
You watched your master smile, his body relaxing fully before he bent down enough again to rest his chin on your shoulder.
This was just another flamingo, resting his head with his newest flower.
——————————
End.
Thank you for reading! 🎂🦩
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comatosebunny09 · 1 year ago
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Inspired by @sserpente’s The Sunwalker’s Gift.
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Imagine being a shopkeeper, selling heirlooms and antiques in a quaint mom-and-pop shop.
Business is incredibly slow. You find yourself flipping through the worn, deckled pages of a book, your chin cradled in your palm. There is nary a customer in sight. Not since that new, mainstream jewelry store popped up down the street.
You’re about to close up shop early to enjoy what’s left of the day—it’s lovely outside. Too pretty to be tucked between these browning walls. But the jangle of the store’s bell lures your attention to the door.
Finally.
You look up as you prepare to greet the store’s newest occupant. But you forget how to talk—forget how to breathe—rooted to the floor like a basilisk has petrified you.
He’s ethereal amid the sunbeams pouring into your tiny store. All wintry-skinned, thin, and tall, dark lenses perched on his sharp nose. Rounded cheeks, petal-pink lips, and foxlike features.
His hair is what entrances you. Swaying like snowflakes in the breeze, and you wonder if it’s as soft as the snow it resembles. Vaguely, you register it sifting through your fingers, smell it exuding the faintest hints of rosemary and firewood.
The stranger surveys your shop, one hand tucked in his pants pocket, the other holding onto an oversized coat. Even his stance is princely. Nothing captures his attention for too long as he peruses through your wares, feigning interest in your rickety things.
You suddenly feel insecure; small—he strikes a picturesque figure amid the dusty antiques lining your shelves. The store across the way would probably suit someone so devastatingly beautiful better.
Nevertheless, you remember how to speak. Square your shoulders, plastering on your most welcoming grin despite your nerves exploding like solar flares beneath your skin.
After smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, you offer the customer a warm, rehearsed “Welcome!”
He perks up at the sound of your voice. Lips twitch into a half smile, silver brows lifting slightly. Your heart hiccups at the sight.
The stranger saunters towards the counter, carrying with him the scent of bergamot and brushed sage. It’s a homely scent. Somehow nostalgic as he leans towards you, tilting his shades down to ingest you with eyes the color of smoldering coals.
“Good afternoon, love,” he drawls, his accent thick with regality. The purr of it causes your body to flood with warmth. It’s almost dizzying, the ground shifting beneath your feet.
You swallow, your throat thickening with your voice. “What brings you in today?”
“Actually.” He looks thoughtful, a long finger tapping his chin. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers like all the world’s secrets bare themselves to him. “Maybe you can help me with something.”
You watch with bated breath whilst the stranger retrieves something from his coat pocket. It catches in the sunlight. Glints a pretty ruby red as he places it on the display counter with a resounding clack.
“I’ve been trying to part ways with the damned thing for ages. Yet somehow, it always finds its way back to me.” His gaze is far off for the barest of seconds before he replaces it with a nonchalant shrug, waggling his hand dismissively. “It’s long since served its purpose. An antique, if you will. I wondered how much it would go for if it still holds any value.”
He speaks of it so contemptuously. As if it’s been a burden to carry all this time. But it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Tarnished gold, carved with intricate runes you can’t quite decipher. It houses a gorgeous crimson stone that seems to hum and swirl with energy—with power. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light or your nerves causing you to hallucinate.
You’re delicate as you hold it against the sun’s rays, further studying its design. In your peripheral, you capture the stranger’s eyes, regarding you with something you can’t quite place. Disdain? Curiosity? Fondness? Whatever it is, it unnerves you. Makes your mouth fill with sand as you clutch the ring in your palm, intending to scrutinize it some more in the back. It radiates against your flesh despite it being so frigid.
“I’ll have to take a more thorough look at it,” you conclude, masking your shakiness. You muster another smile. “Would you like some tea in the meantime? It may take a while to appraise it properly.”
“No thank you, darling,” replies the fair-skinned stranger, leaning against your counter in an easy slouch. His smirk is back, boasting what you mistake for a fang, peeking through the plushness of his lips. “Never had a taste for the stuff.”
“Coffee your thing?”
“Gods no.”
“Water?”
He waves you off with a quiet scoff, venturing away to prod and examine the other little trinkets in your shop.
“Take all the time you need, love. I’ve nothing but time to spare. And, by the looks of it, so do you.” He eyes you over his shoulder with mirth gracing his countenance. A flash of affection colors his gaze before he busies himself again.
You huff a laugh at his peculiar mannerisms, disappearing behind the curtain of the back room to fetch your jewelers loupe. All the while, your mind swims with wistfulness.
You can't help but feel like the handsome stranger who’d fatefully wandered into your shop is watching you, burrowing deep into your soul, even through the thick veil of your curtain.
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masterlist
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