#and just. completely blank face underneath

[yumerinns]

hiii anna !! i heard ur looking for requests 🫶🏽 and since it’s summer .. how about a modern day!au where the reader meets rin on a cruise? they end up becoming cruise buddies and spend most of the trip together it’s up to u whether it turns into a failed summer fling or something more but either way i’d love to see some sweet moments between them ( for ex. parasailing together )

HIII thank you for the request mwahmwah 💗 and as for ur other ask OFCFOFOFC i'd love to be mutuals with you 💗 came out a bit long ngl but i was just really into this iykwim

sorry if this is not what you wanted 😭 also i've never been parasailing and much less a cruise before so i imagine this as the disney moments okay im sorry 🙏

→ gn reader

→ rin and sae are on good terms, reader has a younger brother, kinda love at first sight, slow burn????? RIN SMILES AND LAUGH KINDA HE'S NOT EMO NOT WITH ME

you meet rin on the first night of your vacation on the cruise.

you're holding drinks in both hands, walking back to your family waiting at the dinner table when a shoulder brushes against yours, making you lose your balance.

you close your eyes, waiting for the impact.

nothing.

you open one eye, and see him staring at you, expression deadpan and blank. his eyes trail up and down, before he mutters, "what a pose." and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket and walking off.

you have no idea what's he's talking about until you realises you're standing like a flamingo in the middle of the dining hall. one leg up, body leaned forward with your full arms all the way back.

with all eyes on you and your younger sibling snickering as he subtly tries to take a photo of you, you wished you could just disappear into the ground right now.

the next day, you spot him at the poolside with who you guess is his older brother, with sunglasses tipped back onto his forehead and an "i have better things to do" look on his face. the guy you met yesterday night has his feet dipped into the water, dark teal bangs swept across his face.

you stride up to the teal-haired guy, squatting down next to him with an ominous smile that isn't friendly at all.

he nearly jumps when he sees you.

"hey there," you grin awkwardly.

"what?" he looks away from you, gazing at the clear blue water.

"so i'm gonna need you to forget, y'know... what happened yesterday."

in the corner of your eye, the magenta-haired older boy bites his lip when he heard that.

like he knows something.

like that.

you can already feel your cheeks starting to burn from embarrassment.

"wait, wait, wait. i don't like that reaction." you give the boy a sharp glance.

he doesn't beat around the bush, bluntly telling you, "i told him. it was funny." with the straightest, most unbothered face ever.

"what- excuse me? screw you!" you exclaim, nearly stuttering on all your words, face bright red and hot from complete embarrassment.

"hey, rin," the older boy cuts in, nudging the boy's back - who you now know as rin - with his knee. "you should make it up to her."

"why should i?" rin asks, more of a statement than anything.

you gasp. "he's right! and i already have an excellent idea..."

poor rin doesn't even get to speak before you're dragging him up and with you by his arm. the older boy just waves once to rin who can't even see it.

"where are we? and what is this." rin asks, referring to the bulky harness resting in his body and torsos. it feels like it's burning his skin underneath, and he hates it.

"it's rock climbing, idiot! can't you see?" nodding your head towards the colourful arrays of rock climbing walls in front of you and rin.

"yes, i can see that. but why am i doing this with you?"

"because you messed up, so now you're gonna have to spend the rest of your vacation with me!" you smile mockingly at him.

"huh? i never remember agreeing to that." rin retorts, feeling a vein bulge in his forehead.

"sae said you had to make it up to me, so too bad." you stick out your tongue playfully at him.

"you actual-"

"hey, the both of you! quit holding up the line and just climb!" the worker shouts at you loudly.

rin clicks his tongue at you. you roll your eyes at him.

"hey, rin! let's race! winner buys the loser ice cream!" you shout from above rin, who's still gearing himself up while you're a quarter through.

"that's not fair! you're already up there." rin tells back, teal eyes narrowing at you.

"can't hear you~!"

(we'll see who won soon enough.)

"obviously we can't have a cruise ship without a pool, and waterslides!" you grin, practically dragging rin around with you.

"right."

"i hate the ones with closed covers, like it's actually scary as hell!"

"hm."

you're too busy looking back at rin you don't realise you're walking straight into another person.

rin's arm slips from your grasp, and you suddenly feel warm hands on your shoulders moving you in front as a person walks past you.

"careful." rin's cool voice is in your ears. "it's better if i walk in front." his fingers intertwine with yours, and he walks in front of you like he didn't just stir something in your heart.

"e-eh!? wait, rin!" you start walking to catch up with him, trying to think normally.

he just... held your hand like it's casual.

the both of you are now at the edge of the pool, small pools of water surrounding the soles of your feet.

the moment rin lets go off your hand, he's quick to push you into the water.

"?!"

you push yourself back up to the surface, hands gripping tightly at the edges of the pool as you glare up at rin.

"rin-!"

he has to bite back a smile looking at your stunned and angry expression. "i thought you wanted to go into the pool."

"not alone!" you smirk, tugging on rin's arm hard enough to pull him into the pool along with you.

you laugh at his drenched hair and widened eyes. like a shocked cat, you think.

"you look terrified," you snicker.

he doesn't respond, running a hand through his hair, pushing the wet hair out of his face. you know he definitely heard you, though.

"ahem," you clear your throat. "since now we're both wet, we gotta get on those water slides now!"

you practically jump out of the pool, water splashing everywhere on the pool deck.

"let's do that one!" you point at a lime green slide from way above, with a mile ton of stairs up.

"you sure you can walk?"

"um, why not?"

"rin, how much more?" you pant out, gripping the handrail tightly as you hunch over.

"still a lot."

"i think you were right- i can't walk that much-"

rin sighs.

you see him crouching down in front of you, back facing towards you.

"huh-"

"be fast. just get onto my back already." rin mutters, but there's no real annoyance in his voice.

you get onto his back carefully, and his hands immediately find their way to hold your thighs securely. you wrap your arms around his neck loosely.

he stands up and continues walking.

"uhm, if i'm heavy, you can-"

"you're not heavy." he cuts you off swiftly, his thumb tracing circles on your thighs. the touch sends a shiver through your veins.

"if you say so!"

you reach the top, and rin gently puts you down onto the ground.

it's a two-person ride, and the operator is already setting down the yellow tube for the both of you.

"come on, get in the tube!" you beam, seating yourself in the front of the tube.

the weight shifts as rin gets into the back.

the operator wishes the both of you a safe trip before a rapid current of water pushes the tube forward.

you squeal, the tube flowing left and right dangerously as wind and water blow into your face.

rin's silent behind you, and you're the one making most of the noise.

"you're too noisy..." rin mutters.

but when a contraption splashes water all over your faces, you swear you heard a muffled laugh from rin.

"wait, did you just laugh?!" you try to turn your head around, but fail.

"i didn't."

"i swear you did!"

"i didn't."

"you did!"

"just focus on the ride!"

when the tube lands harshly into the pool of water, you quickly get out, swimming to the surface.

"that was pretty fun." rin, for the first time in what felt like years, starts a conversation.

"hey, look at that! you see, it's nice to hang out with me!" you grin, locking your arms together.

"whatever."

"so, where to next?"

"it's hot."

"which means...?"

"my ice cream."

the both of you are sitting on a sunburned plastic bench under a canopy, while rin slowly licks and bites on his soda flavoured ice cream.

there's a towel hanging around his neck, attention solely on the melting delicacy. your knees are tucked to your chest, a towel around your back.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye, pretending to scroll on your phone.

"what is it?" he asks, noticing your not-so subtle staring through his bangs.

"how'd you get your lashes that long?" you ask. rin shrugs.

"genetics, i guess."

"man, i really need those genes. how does a guy have longer lashes than me?!" you groan, leaning back into the chair. "and your eyes are so pretty too, for what?!"

he shrugs again.

"you really like this ice cream, huh?" you smile softly. rin nods.

his eyes dart to you for a millisecond, before he stands up.

"wait. i'll be back."

he comes back not even a minute later another package of ice cream, the same brand he's currently eating.

rin places it into your lap while you aren't looking, and sits back down next to you.

"eh- what for?"

"no reason. you can give it to me if you don't want it."

"of course i want it!" you pick up the packaging, opening it with a small 'pop'.

you start to lick at it, the chill of the ice cream contrasting the hot summer day above your heads.

now it's rin's turn to look at you. you look so pretty now- no, you looked pretty the whole day.

when your hands were on his skin, his heart pounded abnormally fast. when you smiled at him, he had to resist the urge to smile back at you, to return that look that felt like it was sent straight from the gods themselves.

but it would be weird— you had just met him hours ago.

days pass like hours. you spent most of your vacation with rin, and sometimes he even asked you if you wanted to hang out with him (in the most nonchalant, respectful, and aloof way possible).

on the last day of the cruise, you and rin went back to that plastic bench you ate ice cream together on.

instead of the bright skies and hot air during the day, the night welcomed you with a cooling breeze and serene quiet.

"y/n."

rin's voice calls, and you look up.

"you're finally here! i was waiting for you for years!" you say sarcastically, patting the spot next to you on the bench.

he sits down next to you, a small gap between the both of you.

"i-"

"you-"

the both of you look at each other awkwardly. your face heats up. rin visibly stiffens. he makes a motion for you to speak first.

"i really liked the time we spent together. but you know, you never did apologise for bumping into me that day." you recall nostalgically.

"that so?" rin muses dryly. "sucks for you, i guess."

"hey!" you nudge his arm with your elbow.

you sigh again when he doesn't do anything back, giving you that same look when you first met.

"thinking about it, you're actually a really nice guy."

"...what brought this up?" he asks, intrigued.

"i don't know. you try to act all nonchalant, but you're actually really chalant, y'know?"

"i have no idea what you mean."

"like you act like you don't care about me, but deep down i know you do! like how you do things for me— you're an acts of service kinda guy." you grin at him.

by the sheer stupidity of your rambling, the corners of his lips curve upwards, even if not a lot.

"i see that smile! i see it!" you jump up, pointing at his face with an even wider smile.

"i wasn't smiling... was i?" his fingers touch the corners of his lips, back to their original position.

"you were! anyways, you might as well smile 'cause it's already the last day, and god knows when we'll talk again!"

"you do know we have phones, right?" he asks bluntly.

"that's not the point!"

silently, rin's heart is beating noisily in his ears, and he's scared you can hear it too.

"you're right about the last day thing. i guess i should tell you something important."

he's so nervous right now.

"go ahead! wow, i'm surprised the rin-"

"i like you."

your eyes widen, all the words you were going to say suddenly trapped in your throat.

"you- what?" you stumble over your words. rin looks away from you completely, with his lips pursed in a straight line.

"i'm not going to say it again."

"no, no, i heard it! you like me!" you exclaim.

"it's okay if you don't-"

"hey, i like you too, stupid!"

rin's head snaps back towards you in the speed of light.

"why else would i want to be cruise buddies with you?"

rin hesitates before shrugging his shoulders.

"so... i guess we're dating now?" you smile, giddy, with bright red cheeks.

"i guess so."

[ultrakillingmyself]

Yall ever think abt tfem alphonze

[girlinterupptedsblog]

He had been going on for hours and you cant take it anymore

Summary: since you steped in his room he had been pounding and using you in every way to the point you cant take it anymore

Warnings: Extremely rough sex, overstimulation, non-stop pounding, slight coercion, size kink, manhandling, dominance, mild degradation, possessiveness, slight aftercare, and explicit smut. (18+ ONLY)

---

The moment you stepped foot into Rafe’s bedroom, you should’ve known you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. You were already spent, body trembling, chest heaving as you clawed at the sheets beneath you, but Rafe wasn’t done. Not even close.

“Rafe—” your voice came out broken, a pathetic whimper that only seemed to spur him on. He didn’t let up, his hips slamming into yours with brutal force, stretching you open again and again.

You had lost track of how many times he had made you come. Three? Four? Maybe more? Your body was past the point of exhaustion, pleasure turning into something overwhelming, something too much to handle. Your legs had given up long ago, shaking and useless, but Rafe didn’t need you to hold yourself up. He had you exactly where he wanted—trapped beneath him, at his complete mercy.

“You can take it,” Rafe growled into your ear, his voice dark, possessive. “You wanted this, didn’t you? Coming over here looking all sweet, knowing damn well what I’d do to you.”

You barely managed to shake your head, a weak, breathless sob slipping past your lips. “Can’t—Rafe, I can’t—”

His large hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your head back so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his face twisted into something animalistic, something desperate. He was lost in you, addicted to you, and he wasn’t stopping until he was completely satisfied.

“Too bad,” he murmured, his grip tightening just enough to make your head spin. “You’re not done until I say you’re done.”

He shifted then, pulling your legs apart wider, tilting your hips just right so he could push even deeper, filling you in a way that had you choking on your own breath. The stretch, the fullness, the way his cock dragged against your walls with every ruthless thrust—it was all too much. You didn’t even realize you were crying until Rafe smirked, leaning down to lick the salty tears from your cheek.

“Poor baby,” he cooed mockingly, nipping at your jaw before his lips trailed down your throat, his teeth scraping over your pulse point. “Crying for me, and I’ve barely even started.”

You let out a broken sob as another wave of pleasure crashed through you, your body convulsing underneath him. You didn’t even have the strength to fight it anymore, your body giving in to whatever he wanted to take from you.

Rafe groaned, his pace faltering for just a moment before he grabbed you roughly, flipping you onto your stomach. You barely had a second to catch your breath before he yanked your hips up, forcing you onto your knees. Your arms buckled instantly, your cheek pressed against the mattress as he lined himself up again and slammed back inside.

A scream ripped through your throat, pleasure and pain mixing into something dizzying. Rafe only chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your waist bruisingly hard as he pounded into you with renewed force, each thrust knocking the air from your lungs.

He gritted out, his fingers digging into your skin. “You get that? No one else gets to fuck you like this. No one else gets to hear you beg like this.”

You were too far gone to respond, your mind blank, body wrecked. He had completely unraveled you, broken you down until all you could do was take it.

And he wasn’t stopping. Not until he was done.

[jj-one]

2:09 AM.

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

your boyfriend’s feeling extra needy for you tonight, and who were you to say no?

pairing: han jisung x reader, established relationship genre/tags: fluff + smut, marking, somnophilia, slight dubcon, soft dom!jisung, fingering, piv, unprotected s*x, slight breeding kink words: 2.0k

[ note. ] — this is a revamp of a fic that i’ve wrote months ago but i actually never posted it on this acc sooo yeah. ik i usually write ji as a sub but him as a dom hits different too >.<

The moon looks extra beautiful tonight. Streaks of pale light bleeds into the sheer, ivory curtains— it’s soft, milky glow cascading over your shared bedroom. It was mostly quiet, aside from the whirring hum of the ceiling fan and faintly audible breaths from his left side as Jisung temporarily rose from the tangled sheets.

It’s already past 2 am, sighing out in annoyance when he checks the time that’s flashed on his phone screen. He couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep no matter how hard he tried, only growing more frustrated as he’s been attempting to do so for the past hour or so.. His eyes greeting the wall with nothing but empty blank stares, sleep was deemed impossible to obtain by now and as many times he closed his eyes they still wouldn’t remain permanently shut.

He rolls over in defeat once again. Facing to the left of him was the most precious, angelic little being he’s ever seen, casting his view over to his sleeping beauty of a girlfriend who’s peacefully dozing off into dreamland. Oh, how he’s always been so envious of your ability to fall asleep in an instant.. you were just the sleepiest girl that could easily try and catch a nap just about anywhere. But oddly enough— he always found that quality of yours to be quite endearing.

Jisung could simply stare at you all day with no complaints. He couldn’t help but admire the way you looked in any state you were in, even whilst in your deep slumber. In his eyes, you were the true embodiment of perfection. Looking adorable as ever with your hair splayed all over the pillow, clutching onto your favorite stuffed animal that you always went to bed with.

Though he was unable to physically fall asleep, he surely was mentally exhausted. His brain still a bit foggy, dreading when it’s time to get up in the morning for work when he’s so badly craving a part 2 of the 3-hour fuck sesh you both had the night before.

A trail of faint markings were embedded into his chest— some that were barely noticeable on his neck and several scratches left on his back from the aftermath; recollections of your pretty moans echoing throughout the room made his cock stir, getting uncontrollably horny all over again.

Too bad you had to be asleep..

It’s like the universe is punishing him, taunting him for some unknown reason. Not only can’t he fall asleep, but now he’s plagued with all kinds of other sinful thoughts and it’s only fueling his insatiable desire for you. The more he thinks about it, the more sexually frustrated he’ll become.

He could easily take care of this ‘problem’ of his by doing it himself, right? Sure.. but it won’t be nearly the same. He needs to touch you, feel every inch of you, have you under him with your face all smushed in the pillows as he fucks his cock deeper into you.. or he could simply eat you out until you begged for him stop like he did last time.

Either way, all he wants is you.

He gets closer, reaching over to brush some strands of hair out of your face, smiling to himself when you snuggled up into his hand— still sound asleep. Your lips smack together a little, body shifting underneath the covers, completely oblivious of what’s going on.

Jisung slowly lifts up the comforter, revealing your pretty figure, the thin, slip dress you wore leaving little to the imagination. It’s silky fabric riding up as you tossed and turned during the night, completely exposing your lower body. He bit his lip at the sight behold him, wanting nothing more in this moment is to grab your thighs and have them spread open for him.

He’d do many ungodly things to you if you were awake right now..

He tried to be good, letting a few minutes pass by. He tried to ignore it— this ache in his chest, in his cock, and in his hands that won’t stop twitching with the need to touch you. Jisung feels like the worst kind of man for staring at you like this, hard as hell, desperate, breath shaky from the way your body torments him without even trying.

But then, he remembers the late night confession you gave him a few weeks ago. When you were half asleep, talking in hushed whispers while tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I’ve always had this fantasy… where you fuck me in my sleep. Like.. I’m just lying there and you can’t help yourself. You’re so needy you wake me up with your cock inside me.”

Jisung nearly choked on his own saliva when you said it. Eyes wide, brain malfunctioning.

You even giggled afterwards like it was nothing, teasing, “you’d never actually do that though, would you?”

But he knew by the way you were looking at him. You wanted it.

And tonight— he’s weak.

+

As his hand shifts underneath the hem of your nightgown to caress your thighs, he tries convincing himself that this was as far as he’ll take it.

“Fuck..” he whispers to himself, brows furrowed. “What’re you doing, Jisung…”

He leans down, kissing your bare skin. “You’re gonna kill me,” he murmurs against you.

But your soft sigh as you turn slightly— it’s encouragement enough, and as more delicate kisses are planted to your shoulder, slowly working his way up to your neck, how you’re lying there so pliantly for him. It only makes him want to do more, see how far he can take this before you actually do wake up.

He’s gotten a bit overtly comfortable now as he traveled to your upper body, leaving no surface of you untouched. He’s fondling one of your breasts with his free hand, the pad of his thumb softly grazing over your nipple. You don’t make any sudden movements— still blissfully unaware of what’s happening.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your shoulder, stifling a groan when he grinds his clothed dick against your ass. He’s back to holding your waist, but that didn’t last very long before he gets distracted by something else.

Eventually, he found his fingers inching closer to your core, circling your clit over the thin lining of your panties. He hissed at the feeling of how wet you are, even while you’re asleep your body subconsciously adheres to him, as if it knows who it belongs to.

“Just a little…” he mutters, voice laced with guilt and temptation.

He slid the extra layer of fabric to the side, collecting more of your arousal before plunging one of his fingers inside, watching with hungry eyes as it disappears in and out of your dripping cunt. The sounds of your wetness only making him more painfully hard, rutting up against you like a dog in heat and he’s absolutely shameless about it at this point. All he wants is to bury his cock between those soft, pretty thighs of yours..

It’s only a matter of time until he finally caves in. And it wasn’t long before he found himself rubbing his cock along your folds and caught his tip in your entrance, sliding in with ease from how soaking wet you are. You make a soft, unconscious noise, hips shifting closer. Your cunt clenches tight around his cock, warm and slick, and he nearly moans out loud from the feel of it.

“God- how are you always this tight?” He grunts out, pressing soft kisses into your neck as he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, his eyes scrunched shut as he sinks into your heat. “You’re not even awake and you’re already making me lose my mind…”

He grips you tightly but not enough to leave any major bruising, he’s still gentle with you, keeping your hips flush against his as fully bottoms out, too deep in concentration to focus on anything else. He barely even notices when your eyes cautiously flutter open, a gasp slipping from your breath when feeling the unexpected intrusion, your warm walls pulse around him, adjusting to the stretch.

You let out another small noise. It might’ve been a moan, a word, or his name, whatever it was— it was the least bit coherent. You were still drowsy and disoriented, but once the initial shock wore off you found yourself relaxing into him again; bathing in his warmth, letting his desires roam free.

Jisung kept groping your tits as he fucks you from behind, lightly twisting your nipple to make you even more delirious for him. You simply could do nothing but lye there and take it, fighting the urge to fall back asleep mixed with the overwhelming pleasure that he’s giving you.

“Baby..”

You stir against him, lazily grinding against him to match his movement. Your sleepy voice sounding much cuter, and a lot more innocent than the actions he’s performing.

“Yeah?” He rasps, voice thick with desire, never letting up on his ministrations, his hips snap back and forth, this time with a little more force— but remains gentle with his words. “Is this.. okay?”

He might’ve been a little late with that question.. but nonetheless, you still appreciate the sentiment of it. You simply respond to him with a hum of compliance, feeling in a state of euphoria as you arch into his touch, feeding off of all the soft praises he’d whisper in your ear. You’d do anything for Jisung, not because he was just your boyfriend, but because it’s him— you trust him more than anything in this world. There were no limits when it comes to your love.

“Cum inside, please,” you desperately whine, your cunt cinching around his thickness when he repeatedly thrusts in your sweet spot.

You felt so needy for him. You always did. Even as you’re getting dicked down by him right now you still call out to him— begging for more. A mutual neediness amongst each other.

“You really wanted this, huh?” He breathes out, voice breaking. “Me waking you up with my cock already inside you? No warning. Just full, stretched, dripping…”

You moan helplessly, nodding.

He laughs— breathless, disbelieving. “You’re so fucking dirty.”

“You were already so wet before I even touched you. Like your pussy was waiting for me.”

His pace quickens. The sound of skin slapping echoes faintly in the room, muffled by the sheets. Every thrust pushes you further up the bed. You gasp and try to stifle your moans in the pillow, but it’s no use.

“Look so pretty when you’re all fucked out like this,” he growls, one hand grabbing your hip, the other fisting your hair and pulling your head back. “Maybe I’ll make this a habit.”

You whimper something incoherent to that, and he chuckles darkly.

He shifts his angle, hitting deeper, harder. Your body jolts with each thrust, legs trembling now.

Jisung could feel himself nearing the edge, and your pleas for him to cum inside was only making his high approach faster.. he sighs, “Wan’ me to give you a baby? Make you a mommy?” It might’ve been a question but he already knew the answer, he didn’t need to hear a response.

“Yes, please..” you manage to say as tiny whimpers and moans fall from your lips, attempting to catch your ragged breaths.

You don’t care about the consequences that come with your decision, you’ll bear those repercussions later. For now though, all you want is for him to milk every last drop of his cum inside you.

“It’s okay baby, just let go..” he talks to you with the sweetest, honey laced voice, coaxing you through your orgasm, “I got you… I got you.”

Your mouth flew permanently agape, in a cloud-like haze as your own orgasm washes over you, all while at the same time having your insides plastered with thick, white ropes of Jisung’s cum.

Your whole body is shaking but you’re brought a source of comfort when several fleeting kisses saturate your back, leading them up to your neck once more to litter faint love bites. You’re left feeling more exhausted than you were before, cuddling with your boyfriend who seems to also be just as worn out as you.

Before drifting back to sleep, you hear a soft-spoken exchange, almost undetectable when he mumbles the words against your skin; but you could still make out exactly what was said.

“I love you.”

[mattsmedusa]

✎ 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 ✯ 𝐦.𝐬

"fuuckk-- thaat’s right baby–haah-mmfh, keep–mmh–quiet fo’me." matt grunted quietly into your ear as he fucked you into the bed, his words sending shivers down your spine. his fingers dug into your cheek as his palm kept you silenced — which surprisingly worked well given your loud moans of pleasure.

his cock rammed into you rapidly, eliciting wet squelches from your weeping cunt. the bed creaked underneath you due to his unrelenting pace and the sheer strength he put into railing you.

each slam almost stole your breath away.

your gasps and squeals of pleasure were muffled behind his hand, eyes threatening to roll back every time his tip slammed into your g-spot or cervix.

you were nearing your third orgasm rather quickly.

"oh, you’re gonna cum for daddy aren’t you?" matt hissed, feeling your inner walls milk his cock in quick flutters. "c’mon, give it to me, fucking cum all over my cock baby." he whispered as his hand that held your hip dropped down to pinch and roll your clit between his fingers — immediately bringing you over the edge.

your eyes rolled back as tears ran down the sides of your face, your back arching and hands scrambling to push his hand – which still toyed with your oversensitized clit – away. your body jerked and twitched with intense aftershocks.

matt finally slowed down his thrusts for a brief second, letting you catch your breath before he was back to pounding into your quivering pussy.

after a few minutes of relentless fucking, he finally pulled out, but before you could gather your thoughts, he flipped you onto your stomach and held your hips in place before slamming deep inside in one swift motion, biting his lips not to moan out loud.

you weren’t given time to think, hence leaving your mind blank — only filled with the intense pleasure matt was providing you.

you moaned loudly into the bed, completely forgetting that his brothers were in the living room just a few feet away. his cock hit every sweet spot perfectly in this angle, making you squirm and try to move away, your hands going back and pushing at his hips in a futile attempt to stop him even though you didn’t want him to actually stop.

the pleasure was too much — too good.

matt chuckled breathlessly at your halfhearted attempt to push his hips away, his hands gripping your hips and waist tighter to prevent you from moving away as his pelvis slapped against your ass with obscene smacking sounds. He knew you could say the safe word if you were too overwhelmed, but he also knew that you could take it.

"aw, where do you think you’re going, sweetheart? i still haven’t cum yet — we’re not done." matt rasped, his cock pistoning in and out of you, somehow faster than before, hitting spots that made you see stars.

you were in for a night.

୨୧

𝐰𝐜. 𝟒𝟖𝟒

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞! 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @lypsiiii @sydneyylainn @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece @hearts4sturniolo @ivysturnss @bumbl3b34 @sophand4n4 @sagesturns @gwennybenny @whore4mattsturniolo @sturns-mermaid @christmastreecake @il0vey0um0st @summersturni @ashleysturn @unknvhx @nateismybf @lizzymacdonald06 @sleepiibunniiii @plrlvssnz @patchy-icey @greekgirldreaming @moosegirl96 @sllutty-sturniolo @rinnsgalaxy @urfavvt4ylor @pasteldreams @heartsonlyforchris @jas06sposts @elizabeth8483

© 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐚

[endlessapples]

Summer's Paradise | 1 The Warmth

xia yizhou | caleb x reader

synopsis:

Waking up in a different world where you have to pretend you have amnesia to get by is one thing. Waking up in a different world where you're married to a complete stranger and have to pretend you have amnesia is another. Yet, this stranger seems to know you well. Too well. And with everything this world seems to be hiding from you, he's the only one you can bring yourself to trust. But when distrust wedges itself between you and your newfound connection with this stranger-turned-husband, you begin to doubt if you can ever find a way to leave this world and return back to yours.

tags: eventual smut, amnesia, eventual forced imprisonment, transmigration, yandere!caleb, dark!caleb, domestic fluff (weirdly enough), manipulation, themes of forceful confinement, slight angst, married!au

word count: 5.1k

1 the warmth | 2 the smoke | 3 the heat

When you wake up in the hospital, blearing white light fills up your vision. And when it clears, your gaze settles on a stranger sleeping on your small cot.

He’s entirely too big for the room. You can see that from the uncomfortable position he’s in, on his knees and bent over so that he can keep his head propped up on your bed. His hat, black to match the uniform he’s in and broad-capped, rests next to his feet.

And then you look down and realize that he’s clutching your hand tightly in his. Even though he’s asleep, you notice almost aimlessly that his grip is so tight that you’re almost certain blood isn’t even properly flowing to your fingers anymore. You try to wiggle your fingers. Yup, an hour more and you’d probably lose that hand.

He twitches. And then he jolts up, almost knocking his head against yours. His eyes are shockingly purple—the shade of the night sky of the last sunset of summer, right after the sun dips below the horizon.

Your mouth gapes open in shock, and you almost fall back. His reflexes are quick—before your head even dips down, he’s already caught you by your waist and settled you back down on the bed. Gently. Cautiously.

“Whoa there, Pipsqueak!” he laughs. And then concern flashes through his eyes, and his hands have reached up to cup your cheeks. His touch is slightly warm. His voice softens all of a sudden. “How are you feeling?”

You flush under his intense scrutiny. He’s really a handsome man. Pause, you mentally smack yourself, this man is a stranger and he’s in your hospital room!

Wait, why are you in a hospital room?

You remember your desk at your apartment. You had been running off of no sleep and pushing towards an all-nighter, scanning through papers and spreadsheets desperately to meet your project’s deadline. And you remember setting an alarm for a 20-minute nap. And then you fell asleep...and now you were in the hospital?

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, finally finding your voice. You crane your neck to try to move out of his grip. “Um, who are you?”

He pauses. He looks hurt, concerned, sad, and weirdly enough, almost numb to your words. He withdraws his hands from your face.

“I’m Caleb.” A smile strains onto his face, almost like it was rehearsed and repeated, at the blank expression on your face. “Xia Yizhou.”

Caleb. Xia. The characters ring with familiarity in your head for a second. And then the feeling is gone.

“I’m—,” you begin to say, but before you’ve even finished saying your name, it’s already fallen off his lips.

Weird. How did he know your name? Alarm bells are ringing in your head all of a sudden. Just because he’s a good-looking guy doesn’t mean you should be okay with him being all up in your personal space. After all, he could be a killer or a weirdo. A good-looking one at that. And you’re his next bed-bound victim.

Your gaze falls down, and you begin to notice the band-aids wrapped tightly around you. One peek down the collar of your hospital pajamas has you noticing that even your chest is wrapped with white gauze. Even underneath your sleeve, you can see the band-aids. And your palms, on closer look, there’s a scab over your healing scrapes.

“Did I get hit by a car or something?” you muttered to yourself.

The stranger—Caleb, you correct yourself in your mind—shakes his head fiercely. “You got attacked by wanderers. When you were with me. I...” He stops speaking and drops his head.

Wanderers?

You stare at him even more blankly. And then your hands fly to your mouth. Your voice comes out in a hush, as your eyes dart around anxiously: “Is this like a zombie apocalypse or something? Are they surrounding the hospital right now? Are we going to die?”

A laugh of disbelief leaves his mouth before he can stop it. And then he stops, his head raising up and his eyes squinting in confusion, and then he looks even more concerned. Were there actually zombies? At that rate, you should’ve just been left for dead. Or Undead.

“Wanderers. They’re monsters that roam around after coming to earth, and you are a hunter...,” he pauses, “were a hunter who hunted them down.”

You feel relief dawning on you for a second at the fact that zombies aren’t part of this new weird reality you had awakened yourself to and then horror dawns on you when you realize that perhaps, these wanderer monsters perhaps aren’t any better to deal with. Especially when it seems like it is...or it was your job to deal with them.

“Like, with weapons?” you whisper, in shock. He nods. You are sure the only weapon you ever wielded was pepper spray walking home at night from overtime. Hell, you often had to ask your neighbor to help you bring up the heavier packages from the mailroom to your place.

But true to his words, you can feel that you are stronger, more muscular and toned, despite being what looks like hospitalized and severely injured.

Okay, so everything is seeming much less than a caffeine-induced nightmare and more like a twisted version of your normal reality.

“So I’m not a...hunter anymore?” you speak carefully.

He stares at you, in silence. He looks like he was contemplating a hard decision. And then he shakes his head.

“No, not anymore.”

Sure, you are certain that this version of you on the outside is still very much capable of swinging some heavy sword. But the you on the inside is someone who finds public-speaking during your meetings terrifying. Much less having the courage that it takes to slay monsters.

But you still tentatively ask. “Why?”

His eyes crinkle all of a sudden. His left hand reaches out, and he fondly strokes the top of your head. You don’t find it repulsive or jarring. His touch is...familiar.

“You tell me, Pipsqueak. After all, you decided to quit after we got recently married.”

Married? You blubber at his response. Your index finger reaches out to point at him, and then back at you, and then back at him.

And then your vision goes black.

🍏🍎

When you wake up, you are hopeful that what will meet your gaze would be the black screen of your overworked laptop and a drool-covered notepad with smudged ink. But instead, you can hear hushed whispers speaking with each other.

“Amnesia...Might be long-term...Recovery unknown...”

You peek an eye open. Damn, you are still in the hospital room.

Caleb somehow immediately senses that you had awakened, and in a flash, he’s by your side with the doctor—an aging man with a couple of gray hairs in his otherwise black hair—next to him. He reaches out and pats your cheek lightly, drawing your attention up to his face.

“Look, Pipsqueak, the doctor said that I can bring you home starting next week. It looks like most of your injuries are close to being fully recovered and being home will be good for your psychological well-being and might help you remember anything.” He flashes a confident smile.

The doctor beside him nods before adding. “These cases are rare, and we don’t know if there’s a cure, but taking some time to rest more will help stabilize your body and your mind. We’ll release you once it looks like you can fly, and I can refer you to a neurologist for support.”

Caleb’s smile temporarily strains before it relaxes. You feel like it was a trick of your eyes with how subtle and quick it is. He speaks, not to you but to the doctor. “But no pressure, right? She’ll need to take it slow and then we’ll reach out to one in Skyhaven once she’s all adjusted.”

His gaze slides down to you. “Right, Pipsqueak?”

Well, until you return to your normal reality, it seems like you are stuck here. And Caleb knows you—hell, he’s married to this version of you. And the doctor doesn’t seem to question your relationship either.

You nod. Or try your best to with the stiff muscles in your neck.

It looks like you’ll just have to enjoy being married to a hot guy while you still can. Not that that will be hard. But it seems like everything else in this world will be difficult to deal with...

🍏🍎

You can’t sleep well that night in the hospital. It’s almost funny—it looks like the you of this universe has caught up with her sleep debt from her coma. Instead, you lay on your back on your bed.

Your gaze falls onto the table next to the bed. You spot a phone. Your phone.

Caleb had dropped it off by your side before he had left. “Fully charged,” he had grinned down at you. It seems like you had a phone addiction even here. He looked like he didn’t want to leave, really, but you had squinted at him earlier as he had begun to slide a chair to your bedside and gone: “Have you even changed your clothes since you’ve come here? Slept in a proper bed?” He had shamelessly averted his gaze.

You had shaken your head at him in an almost maternal disappointment and crossed your arms in front of you, grimacing. “Okay, from your uniform, it looks like you’re financially secure. Get a hotel room for the night. Take a shower. Get a change of clothes. And sleep not on the floor with my already small bed as a pillow but on an actual bed with actual pillows and an actual blanket. I don’t want even the idea of a whiff of stinky man near me for the rest of the night.”

He had looked like a kicked puppy then, and you swore you could see drooping ears and a tail on him. And even more so when he had left. He had lingered by the door, staring back at you with pitiful eyes. You had a feeling you would have given in if you looked at him any longer, so instead, you turned so your back was facing him. “Go!” you spoke fiercely. And then your voice softened. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“I’ll see you in the morning? Good night then, Pipsqueak.” He whispered, gently. And then the door closed.

Hours later, you are still awake, and your phone is taunting you from the bedside table. It looks like an exact carbon copy of your phone back in your universe. It has a cute phone case with little apple designs and an attached wallet where you had tucked in the cards you needed.

You turn it on, and it recognizes your face, letting you in. The search engines look different to the ones in your Universe, but with some exploration, you are able to take yourself to what resembles closest to the search engine you usually used.

You pause before typing in.

Wanderer.

Images of wanderers pop up, and a wiki page categorizing their types is the first link. You squint. Okay, they are scary. And dangerous. But weirdly enough, less scary than the zombies in the tv shows you sometimes watch.

You then try another search.

Hunter.

You see a link to the official Hunters Association page show up. You click on it, and the page opens up to a simple emblem. There’s a description that you quickly read, and then you close out of the page. Next, news articles about the heroic deeds of hunters pop up and you read through them.

A woman in a gray uniform pops up. Jenna, is her name. She looks familiar. Really familiar. Is she your former boss? And then you scroll down even more and even more before stopping when a title popped up out at you, dating three years back.

Meet this year’s newest hunter admits.

You see a picture of you in the crowd. It is you, but it feels different somehow. This you, dressed in what you had identified as the hunter uniform, smiles at the camera with a confident ease. She feels almost alien, even though she wears the same skin as you. Or you’re wearing the same skin as her. You immediately exit the page.

You try one more search.

Waking up in another world with a husband you don’t even know about meaning?

Nothing relevant pops up. Except for some transmigration novels recommendations you spot. Glad to know those exist here too.

 You turn off your phone in defeat and roll onto your side. Staring outside at the sliver of the night sky that your blinds don’t fully cover, you let out a sigh and close your eyes. Maybe when you wake up next, you won’t even need to worry about wanderers and hunters and broad-shouldered men in uniform with puppy-like purple eyes who look at you in ways you can’t really decipher.

🍏🍎

Caleb doesn’t leave your side for the entire week, even though you’re certain from his uniform that he’s definitely in a higher-up position in one of the however many government organizations existing here—Farspace Fleet, you confirm when you eavesdrop on him during one of the many  times he’s in the hallway grumbling on the phone with someone.

It’s almost abnormally normal how much ease you feel letting this random stranger into your life. He knows you—or this version of you—well. Every detail, from the temperature you like in your room to the type of shows that you’d like to watch on the tv to your food dislikes and likes.

When you try to discreetly pick out the veggies you don’t like for a dish, he catches you and insists you finish them. “Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean you can avoid them. You won’t get all better without them.”

When you pretend not to hear him, he lets out a long sigh and plucks the spoon out of your own hand. “Ahh,” he hums.

You puff out your cheeks, annoyed all of a sudden. “I’m not two-years-old, Caleb. I’ll eat my veggies by myself." When you try to yank the utensil back, he leans back just out of reach.

“Uh-uh,” he tsks, poking at your cheek with a playful smile on his face, “I know what you’ll do. You’ll eat them and then try to spit them out into the napkin when I’m not noticing. Now open up.”

Yikes, how did he know?

Unfortunately for you, Caleb’s grip on the spoon is much stronger than yours, and unless you want to rely on your hands to eat your food, which seems like a bigger pain for the butt, you’ll have to settle on this approach. So you reluctantly oblige. But you notice with a pointed look the small pile of cilantro he has nudged aside on his own plate. He pretends to ignore your look and pokes the spoon to your lips.

Vegetable force-feeder aside, honestly, having Caleb around is almost like having a built-in helper robot, one that is attuned to your every need. Except instead of wires and cold metal, he’s made of hot flesh.

When you go on walks outside, he’s right behind you, watching carefully as if to make sure you won’t fall. He’s a hoverer, that’s for sure.

When you narrow your eyes at him and ask him “Do you even have enough PTO to be lurking around me like this”, he always pretends like he can’t answer the question and shamelessly changes it to a different topic.

The week passes by in a flash, with Caleb showing up the moment the sun rises and leaving back for his hotel late at night. And before you know it, you’ve become used to him. Almost too used to him.

🍏🍎

Caleb shows up early at 7am, even though he had told you the previous night that he’d be here at 8am to pick you up. You had insisted last night that he go home early—9pm sharp, in fact, instead of the usual midnight. He still looks like he hasn’t had enough sleep, and now that you’re less frazzled by your current reality, you can spot the dark circles clearly brimming underneath his eyes. Still, you mentally wolf-whistle, he’s gorgeous.

He’s back in his uniform. And before he comes near you, he tries to subtly sniff himself. Obviously, your comment about stinky men still rings loud and clear in his mind. You feel a bit sorry for him. He didn’t even stink when you had brought it up. In fact, he smelled good still. Annoyingly good.

But here you are, his supposed wife who’s not really his wife but is actually another soul who temporarily slipped into his wife’s body. But you try to assure yourself that hygiene really is the most important thing every human should prioritize.

 “Did you sleep well?” you ask. He peers up at you through his lashes, pitifully, as he helps peel the blanket off of your legs and assists you to your feet before pulling a set of clothes out of his bag. He looks like a kicked dog, and you feel a little bad at how you’ve been pushing him around.

“How can I? I’m used to you being at my side every night. And last night you didn’t even let me stay to my usual hour,” he shrugs. He unfolds the set. It’s a plain baggy t-shirt and some loose pants. When he reaches out as if he’s about to reach for the buttons of your shirt, he hesitates and drops his hands.

“You should get changed.” He takes a few steps back, until his back hits the wall of the room.

You squint at him. “Aren’t you turning your back?”

His face flushes red and then he swiftly turns around. You can see that his ears have turned a bright red. Cute. You laugh to yourself.

But he really is big. There’s not much space, and you have to keep your arms from swinging into him as you take off your pajamas and pull on the change of clothes as swiftly as possible. It’s quiet, the only sound the rustling of your clothes.

When you’re done, you poke your finger into his back. “I’m done.”

He flinches, like he’s been jolted by your touch. He turns around, and you can see that his cheeks are rosy. In the past week you’ve been with him, he hasn’t been this flustered. But maybe it’s because you’ve been in your usual baggy hospital pajamas set and messed up greasy hair. Now, you look refreshed and energized. Like a civilian instead of a sick patient.

Still, as his flush fades and he reaches to adjust the crumpled collar of your shirt, you think to yourself that it’s odd that he looks pretty comfortable touching you but not with the other way around.

You take a step back and almost wobble. It looks like despite all your perceived muscle, laying in a coma for a week without any movement has really weakened you. And your adventures out into the hospital courtyard don’t seem to be serving you that much justice in the physical movement department.

“Whoa!” you gasp out. In a flash, Caleb has swept you up onto his arm so that you’re comfortably nestled in his hold above the ground. He effortlessly holds your bag of items in the other. Unconsciously, you had reached out and wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a panic at your shift in gravity. And by the time you stabilize yourself, he’s already out of the room and in the hallway.

“You know...you’re pretty reliable and everything but uh, next time, give me a heads up?” you see the shocked expressions of the people in the hallway, including a nurse you had become familiar with in the past week, and bury your burning face into his shoulders. You knock your fist against his shoulder when he doesn’t respond, and he just laughs.

“Got it, Captain,” you can almost hear the cheeky grin in his voice, and you whack him again with your fist. But to him, it probably just feels like something barely grazing against him with the way he continues without care.

He eventually sets you down when you make it to the station. Caleb catches your look of confusion, and he provides the name. “Coelum Express. It’s not a long trip.” He then stares at your band-aids peeking out underneath your sleeves. His face twists into a frown. “I’d fly us in if I could, but security’s been tighter because of the frequency of Wanderer attacks lately. If anything starts hurting, let me know.”

You don’t like worrying him. In fact, you never liked worrying anyone. Back in your other world, when you had been sick and about to pass out, it was only your neighbor that took care of you because he had spotted you half-conscious in the stairwell. Other than that, you even refused to let your family know that you weren’t feeling well.

You wonder if a version of him exists here. He had moved in a few years back and rarely spoke to anyone. And he always wore a black mask. You couldn’t really remember if you had ever seen his face, oddly enough, but if he resembled anyone, it would have to be the big puppy of a man next to you.

You realize that Caleb is still looking at you. You shake your head free from your thoughts. “I’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

“Really,” you nudge him. “I’m a grown adult. I can handle myself. And what, it’s only a few hours?”

He reaches out and ruffles your hair. You try to duck and bat away his hands, and when you focus back on him, you can see that the smile on his face is almost rueful. “Even when you forget all about me, you don’t seem to forget that you don’t need me.”

You don’t like how bitter he looks. Something takes over you, and you run a tentative hand across his chest. Your fingers bump the silver chain around his neck—dog tags, with a small apple charm. When U Come Back. Those words sound familiar in your head again. But like with everything else about this world, the moment you try to grab onto it, it’s already dissolved.

“Caleb, I need you,” you whisper before you can stop yourself.

You won’t tell him that you’re a stranger possessing the body of his wife, that the person you are in your other world is someone entirely different from the person he knows here. But it’s true. He’s the only one you know in this unfamiliar world. And you need him.

He’s staring at you in that way again. Like he’s trying to read your mind, while helplessly offering to you something you might want to read from his mind. Vulnerable, in a trance where you’re the person leading him into it and you’re also the only person who can lead him out of it.

And you know he’s seeing someone else through you.

Silver glints in your field of vision again, and you step back. You offer him an awkward smile, averting your gaze. “Come on, let’s not miss the train.”

🍏🍎

The train ride is, as Caleb says, quick. Clouds pass by you in a flash, and you stay with your face pressed up against the glass in aware. The world here, as familiar as it is in some ways, is much more high-tech than yours in other ways. Caleb doesn’t say much to you during the ride. He sits there, watching you.

Before long, the two of you are back at his place. Our place, you correct in your mind. This is the home of Caleb and the version of you that he’s married to.

It’s cozy and decorated exactly to your taste. You can see some peeks of Caleb through it—the airplane diagrams on the wall, the models neatly organized on the black shelves, and some large books with bugs on the front. Everything else though feels familiar and comfortable to you. Like Caleb, this place is catered to your every liking and taste.

He’s setting your bags down behind you as you begin to roam around. You peruse through the framed pictures set around. There’s a picture of you in a pretty white dress smiling at the camera at him. And another of the two of you with your fingers up in peace signs at the camera. You move on from the frames.

“Are you hungry? I can make something for lunch.” He throws the comment at you as you’re burying your head in the pile of throw pillows on the sofa. You peek up at him and nod your head eagerly.

He’s about to leave into the kitchen when you glance at your finger. Your ring finger.

“Hey, Caleb,” you call out. He stops in his tracks. “We’re married right? Where’s my ring?”

You’ve seen the ring on his finger. It’s a silver band with a small airplane embedded on it. And it made sense that the hospital probably took the ring off of your finger after the incident. But Caleb hadn’t even made a mention of it.

You can’t see his face when he responds, his back turned to you. “It’s getting repaired at the shop. It got damaged during the wanderer attack. It’ll be back, good as new.”

You open your mouth, about to ask something else, when the phone in his pocket beeps. Before you can say anything, he’s already turned to give you an apologetic smile as he picks up the phone and heads off into the kitchen.

When he comes out, he’s already heading to a different room. You watch him with curious eyes as he comes out, his hat in his hand.

“Shoot, it’s something urgent at the Fleet.” He walks over to you and reaches down to pat your head. “I’ll order some food to the door, and I’ll be back tonight. If you need me, call me. My number’s in your phone.”

And then he’s gone.

With Caleb away from your side during the day instead of the night, you’re once again left with your thoughts. Here you are, married, in the home of newlyweds, when the you of your world has only had your job to worry about and a practically nonexistent love life to shoo away from your mind.

You flop to your other side, grimacing a bit at the impact. You’re still bruised.

You can hear the faint ticking of a clock, but other than that, there’s nothing to stimulate your mind here. In your boredom, exhaustion creeps up on you and you fall asleep.

Your sleep is restless. You hear a loud screech echo in your ears, your feet are covered in mud as you sprint in the darkness, and you can feel the ground shaking underneath you as something behind you scrambles to catch up to you.

You’re getting tired. You know that you won’t be able to run any further before it catches up to you. And then you’re falling. Tree branches scratch at your body as you sink deeper. And then you’re in a room, confined to a chair.

Someone’s watching you. You can’t see them, but you can hear their soft breathing. You call out, demanding: “Who’s there?”

Footsteps sound in front of you. Your head whips up, and a loud gasp falls from your lips.

“Caleb?”

You jolt awake, your heart racing. A quick glance to the window next to the sofa shows that the sky is already getting dim.

The house is still silent. Caleb’s not back yet.

It isn’t until this realization that you can relax. And you feel guilt prod at you because of it.

Because this is Caleb. Familiar Caleb. Caleb who’s supposed to be your husband and has taken care of your entire need during your recovery. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. You shake your head and get to your feet.

As you’re about to head to the front door to check on the delivery food you’re certain has already grown cold, you decide to change direction and head towards the bedrooms. It’s not until you’re in the hallway that you spot something small glinting on the floor, right in front of the large wall in the hallway.

It’s a ring. Almost identical to Caleb’s ring except it’s daintier and shaped in a way that it would fit comfortably on yours. Odd, didn’t Caleb say that this was supposed to be at the repair shop? You look closer at it, trying to figure it out even more underneath the dimming light of the setting sun.

And then you notice the faint copper on the silver.

It’s blood.

You glance up at the large wall. You reach out, just about to press your hand firmly against it, when you hear the front door open and a voice ring out.

“Where are you, Pipsqueak? You didn’t eat the delivery food?”

You quickly scoop up the ring and hide it in the pocket of your pants. Getting up, you wander back out into the living room.

Caleb’s back. He looks tired, but when he spots you, relief washes over his expression. And then his expression turns slightly cold. “What have you been doing until now?”

You can feel the weight of the ring in your pocket. But you try to forget about it, not when Caleb seems to have a sixth sense in detecting your lies, and you seem to not have that same sixth sense for detecting his lies. Even now, you can’t tell if he’s hiding something from you. You don’t like to think that he is. After all, he’s the only one you have here that you can trust.

“I fell asleep on the couch, and when I woke up just now, I tried to find the bathroom.” You shrug. “And I got lost.”

He relaxes a little. “It’s in our bedroom. The first door in the hallway. Since you didn’t eat anything today and I didn’t either, I’ll make something. It’s not good to eat delivery food left out after all.”

You nod, almost mindlessly. When you turn to find your way to the bathroom, because really you did have to go use it, you don’t even notice that he’s still standing there, his eyes not leaving you.

A/N: it's been a while since I've written fanfic for any fandom, so I hope it isn't too rusty!! Let me know your thoughts/theories about what's going on with Caleb and why you're in this new world (where's the other you/).

You can also find this published on AO3 as well under my user applesanonymous :) but both shouldddd be published at the same time!

[sourpeachsayshi]

minors - ageless - blank blogs dni - cw: daddy kink; daddy!dom; age gap

it was the build up to the moment that did it - the fact that you're with a man who is just so firm, so doting, so caring. kento won't let you lift a finger for a thing. he guards you like you're his to protect. if you could describe kento with just one word, it would be strength. because it was a trait that he carried over in every possible aspect of his life.

and you just couldn't stop fixating on that fact, and how it made your heart and pussy pulse with affection.

you didn't even hear yourself say it when it happened. you were so delirious being loved up with nanami's fingers and mouth working the space between your legs. he kept edging you, and edging you - wanted to see how well you could hold out for him. and when he permitted you to let go of the reigns, the words came out as a soft whimper once your orgasm flooded through your body.

"mmph, uh... thank you, daddy.~"

nanami perked up so fucking fast.

"what did you just call me?"

when the realization hits, you find yourself flushed with heavy embarrassment. your eyes prick with tears, your mouth going dry as you stammer excuses. you don't want him to think you are a freak or something but you're completely tongue tied as you try to explain what motivated you to call him that, stuttering "it's not-not like that..."

but your words carry as much weight as air. and it really doesn't help that your boyfriend is also older than you.

the tips of kento's ears are fucking hot. it's not like he's oblivious to this particular kink - it just wasn't his thing. hell, before you, nanami never really dated women who were younger than him. but you triggered something in him when that word came out of your mouth.

he runs his fingers through his blonde strands, and ponders it for a second before leaning in to kiss your forehead and your lips, and shushes you to quieten down. "it's okay, baby, it's okay," he soothes, "there's no need to be embarrassed. it happens, right?"

his dick is hard, and once he calms you down he is able to slip his cock between your wet folds again. your chest heaves slightly, a little sniffle leaving you as your lashes flutter close to hold back your tears.

nanami's hands are on your pelvis, dragging back and forth over the slope of the curve. "feel better?" he soothes, keeping an even rhythm as he sees your body grow softer with every thrust.

you nod your head, and find the courage to correct yourself. "thank you, kento..."

he bites his bottom lip, and holds back a smile. you're always so polite with him in the bedroom, he thinks it's fucking adorable. he thrusts a little harder, making you whimper to grab your attention. he buries himself deep inside you, halting all his movements. when you notice, you open your eyes to catch his stare, your cheeks stinging.

"come again?" he asks.

"I-I said thank you..." you answer innocently.

"I heard."

you look down at where your bodies connect, furrowing your brows in confusion and attempt to move yourself to get some relief, but kento just grips onto you tightly.

he rolls his hips teasingly, "you don't have to call me by my name. I know you what you want to say..."

there's a lump in your throat instantly. and you part in your lips in surprise as your heat races. "I...I can't..."

"oh, darling," your lover continues, a wicked tone highlighting that devilish smirk, one that's so sinful it looks foreign on that handsome face. he rocks back to drag his length out of you, then pushes in achingly slow. "I heard how it sounded. heard how turned on you were saying it..."

he picks up the pace of his movements, his words relentlessly egging you on. "you're just showing me how grateful you are, right? showing me that you you're happy with how I take care of you..." he offers in a tender voice. "making me proud that my girl is so well behaved..."

you whine, your hand fisting the bed sheet underneath you when you realize what your lover is actually doing. "oh my god..."

he tuts, "m'not asking for your prayers right now, sweetheart..."

the noise that comes out of you is broken as he returns to his original pace, fucking you exactly the way you like.

"please don't stop..."

"who are you asking?"

"you..."

"who?"

he's persuading you with his body and his words, and it makes your toes curl as you feel the title sit on the tip of your tongue.

"you, daddy~" you whine, as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"use your words..." he scolds light heartedly.

"daddy, please don't stop~ it feels really good..."

"that's my girl," he grunts with desire, his arousal hitting a new peak. he flashes you his pearly whites, watches your body melt into a puddle of lust. "we are going to have so much fun with this, princess..."

[sanemistar]

STILL LOVE YOU

contents ★ satoru x fem!reader, angst to fluff, exes to lovers, 1k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event. synopsis ★ what will you do if your ex shows up unprompted in the middle of the night asking your for a second chance?

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

it was quite late at night, probably a little past midnight when you heard a knock on the door of your apartment. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, you weren’t expecting any visits especially when it was this late at night. hesitant, you carefully walked up and slowly opened the door.

the moment the door was opened, you were instantly greeted with the sight of satoru, your ex boyfriend of all people, whom showed up at your door unprompted in the middle of the night. you hadn’t seen him since the breakup, so seeing him again after all that time had shaken you quite hard. past memories of when you and him were so happy and madly in love with one another floated in your mind as you reminisced about all the happy times you had spent together with him for some time.

it was at that moment when you couldn’t believe how fragile you were. like just when you thought you had already moved on and completely forgotten about him as if he had never existed, you’d been reminded of satoru yet again and the fact that you had only been pretending to be indifferent about him when in reality you still had feelings for him.

you took a look at his face, it was still the same as ever. yet, something felt off. he wasn’t smirking or grinning, he wasn’t making any playful faces. his face was blank, pale and dull. heavy dark circles were seen underneath his blue eyes and his white hair was quite disheveled. frankly, his appearance concerned you. it was your first time seeing satoru in this state, you had no idea he could look that miserable.

“what brings you here, gojo?” you sternly asked, trying your best to control your emotions and not let yourself slip up. addressing him as if he were a complete stranger to you.

satoru, who still had lingering feelings for you, who still couldn’t accept the fact that you were no longer his. had no idea as to why he showed up at your door, especially that late in the night. his body acted on its own and his feet just naturally led him to your apartment, a place where was once so familiar to him that it felt like his own home.

but deep down, he knew that he only came here because he missed you, and he wanted to see your beautiful face once again in person.

“cuz baby i…. i miss you.” he stammered as he spoke, his voice cracked as if he was trying to hold himself from crying. you felt a knot in your stomach the moment you heard him call you baby.

“i don’t think we’re in a relationship that allows you to call me that, gojo.” you emphasized on his last name, reminding him of the fact that you were no longer in a relationship.

“look, if you have nothing important to say i’m done with this conversation.” if you were to tell your past self that there’d be a day when you would talk to your beloved toru like that, she would never believe you. honestly, even you were surprised by how cruelly you sounded at that moment, but a part of you thought he deserved it for causing you pain and heartbreak the day he called it quits with you.

you were right about to slam the door shut when he put his hand on it, stopping you from doing so.

“i know i haven’t treated you right the first time and i absolutely regret it.. i’m so sorry it took me so long to realize that, but if you give me a second chance, i promise i’ll treat you right this time around.” you’d never heard satoru say he regretted something he did before, so you were quite taken aback by his statement.

he was fully aware that you were too good for him and he didn’t deserve you. after all, he had once failed to give you the love that you truly deserved.

“please baby… please come back to me..” you couldn’t believe that the satoru gojo, the most arrogant and cocky man who flaunted his powers and strength at any given chance, was right here at your door, looking at you with such a sorrowful expression on his face while desperately begging you to forgive him and allow him to be with you once more.

the part of you that still loved him, the one part of you that you’d been desperately trying to suppress, had begun to overtake you as thoughts of giving satoru a second chance began circulating in your head.

“you know what i really hate right now?” satoru fell silent as you questioned.

“i hate how i still love you.” you paused momentarily before uttering. “i still love you, toru.” you decided to put your faith in satoru once more. it was hard to admit, but it was a given fact that you still loved him despite everything that happened.

he blinked profusely, still trying to process the words he had just heard, not only did you call him by the nickname you’d given him, but also you told him you still loved him. his feelings were mutual. after all, he had never stopped loving you to begin with.

not being able to resist and hold himself back any longer, his body moved on its own yet again and he instantly ran to you as he tightly held you in his arms. he held you so tight for dear life yet at the same time his touch was so soft and gentle, full of warmth and genuine love.

“i love you too, my baby. thank you for giving me another chance to be with you. this time, i promise i’ll never make you sad.” he cried against your ears as you buried your face in his chest and began crying as well. you deeply inhaled the smell of his cologne, the same unforgettable, sweet smell that you had terribly missed.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @luv-lies @suguru-getos @kasukuna

[jellyfishoreo1206]

AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

“You’re doing so good for me, Hector…” (Y/N) says in a hushed tone, their eyes soaking in the beautiful sight before them. They lean down, until their lips are barely brushing up against the shell of his flushed ear, chest rubbing against his as they coo oh so sweetly to him, “My good boy, aren’t you?”

Hector could barely respond with words, he didn’t even hear what they said, his attention tuned into the vibrations coursing through his body like crashing waves. His whole entire face and the top of his chest was flushed bright cherry red, beads of sweat dotting various parts of his browline and neck as he struggled to get his breathing under control. His eyes were squeezed shut, mouth hung open as whimpers and lewd moans slipped into the air with no shame, resonating within the walls for all in the house to hear. 

Embarrassment was thrown far out the window for Hector, for all that filled his mind was more, more, more, more. More pleasure, more of their teasing voice, more of their touch, more of their praise. God, all he could focus on was the vibrating plug lodged inside him, pulsing, pulsing, pulsing and hitting all the right spots deep within him.

The human watches on in amusement, pure desire and arousal steadily building up within the bottom of their stomach, festering and thrashing in impatience. Impatience to ravish him, to push him over the edge, to devour him. But then it would be over so soon. They pushed up from his chest to observe him once more from above, roaming his chest, stomach, arms, anywhere with their wandering hands, whispering words of praise they know Hector isn’t processing. 

How could one so beautiful, one so adorable, see themself as undesirable?

Their fingers itched to reach back for the remote and increase the speed, watch as Hector experiences the rising vibration, watch as he squirms underneath them, his moans increasing in volume as he begs for more. Completely have him at their mercy.

And honestly, what was holding (Y/N) back? A mischievous smile creeps up on their face, remote already in hand as their nimble fingers increase the speed.

And oh, oh…the beautiful noises just increased in volume and consistency.

Hector shakily gasped at the increase of speed, hands grasping at the sheets as his body spasmed, “A-Ah! Mmmm, o-oh my go-d!” His teary eyes shoot open in surprise, erratically moving to different places of the room before they land on the dominating figure controlling his pleasure. His chest rose and fell inconsistently, heartbeat beating loudly in his ears as he watched his lover with glazed-over eyes, affection, adoration, desire swirl all within him, as he babbles out his words.

“Please, please, please! Please, my h-heart! Mmm~!” The coil within him tightens with every second that passes, he just feels it, it’s within his grasp! But he would never dare doing something without the permission of his lover. They control the strings after all.

You didn’t have to clarify what Hector was asking for, his body was screaming it after all. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of getting him right, just righttt at the very edge, and stopping. Turn the switch off and just tease him by grabbing the base of the plug and gently thrust it in and out of him. Listen as he whines as you edge him...

Mmm…another time.

His hips buck into the air, globs of pre-cum running down his neglected dick as he continues to beg, begging to cum as his whimpers increase in frequency. Literally putty within your hands. You reach a hand towards his dick, moderately stroking it, rubbing at the tip with your thumb as you laser-focus on his face.

Hector won’t last, the coil is so so so tight, it feels like he’s about to-

His vision blanks out, absolute euphoric pleasure ripples through his body. Everything feels so fuzzy, yet clear at the same time. Hot. It's so hot in here. His body spasms wildly, cum spurting out the tip in massive amounts, beautiful moans spilling from his bruised lips. Man, you’re gonna have to apologize to all the objects in the morning. You continue to stroke his dick, turning off the toy, as you wait for him to ride out his orgasm, smiling sweetly at him.

He doesn’t know how long it was, but when his vision returns and his mind isn’t mush, Hector knows this experience has ruined him in the best ways possible. No longer will his hands suffice no more, no. No, it must be you to bring him to his climax, to press his buttons, to tease him into oblivion. 

Though, now he’ll have to double his efforts when he is the one to pleasure you.

“Such a good boy, doing so good for me.” They coo, kissing all over his face—his cheeks, forehead, nose, lips, anywhere they could reach. He melts underneath their affection eagerly, mustering a weak smile. “My heart, you truly are the only one for me..” 

“As you are for me, my love.” They plant one last kiss on his lips, before shuffling over to the bedside to grab a cloth and a bottle of water. He takes the water gratefully, chugging it down as (Y/N) carefully wipes away the fluids and gently pulls the toy out. The spikes of overstimulation brought out soft yelps from him, but was quickly met with soft apologetic kisses. 

At last, they shuffle underneath the blankets, limbs entangling with one another as sleep ebbs at Hector’s mind. Right when he was about to fall into the world of dreams, he’s snapped awake by a sudden realization.

“Oh god! I totally forgot to return the favor!” (Y/N) simply laughs, merely pressing a kiss to his cheek, coaxing him to lay back down.

“Relax~ I don’t mind. And besides..” They lean in close, right beside his ear as they murmur, “I have some ideas for next time~” Hector’s face flushes, averting his eyes from theirs.

“Oh.”

--

Banner belongs to @/thecutestgrotto

EDIT: Lwk kinda wanna write another...we'll see though :3

[lucidwntrr]

hear me out. SUB TAEHYUNNNNN. who can’t take being ridden <3

ahhhh, my first request & taehyun fic ! i was so excited to write this one & hope i did it justice !!

── tags: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), riding, some marking, implied multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise, begging, taehyun cries, taehyun is needy

“god, please - no more…”

you were straddling him, warm and wet with his cock buried deep inside you. the squelching every time you slowly brought your hips down onto him sending him closer to edge of cumming. again.

taehyun was absolutely wrecked. his skin flushed and he swears he could almost cry from how good he felt, sniffling cutely. maybe he already was. all he could do was helplessly squirm underneath you as his fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips.

you started relentlessly fucking him, your pace quick and taehyun couldn’t keep up. his mind still reeling from his last orgasm, cock sensitive and skin still tingling.

“w-wait, slow down, i can’t-” he gasps. he throws his head back onto the bed, giving you opportunity to lean over him and nibble across the exposed skin.

you sink all the way down onto his throbbing cock with a soft moan, rolling your hips against him as you mark up his throat, tilting his head to the side. taehyun huskily panting and whining into your ear.

“aww, is it too much baby~” you taunt, sucking on the skin right below his pulse. he shivers underneath you with a whimper, his eyelids fluttering. his skin erupting with goosebumps and you feel his cock involuntarily twitch, making your breath hitch.

“but you’re doing so well, you feel so good inside me.” you moan, making your way up to his mouth. capturing his lips into a wet kiss, you slide your tongue against his messily while taehyun heavily moans into it.

you lean back with a bite to his red, bottom lip and slide your hands up to his chest, needing something to hold onto as you use him. you look down at him, taking in his appearance. eyes squeezed shut, lips parted and covered in saliva, his sweaty chest heaving under your hands…

"f-uck..." he cries, voice cracking.

with abandon, you start to bounce on him again, slamming your hips down against his. his hold bruisingly tight on your waist now as he thrusts up into you mindlessly. teasingly, you brush a a nipple with your finger, making taehyun tremble and his hips jerk with a drawn out moan being pulled out.

“fuck, please ‘s too much! ’s too good~” he cries, feeling his second orgasm build up. his mind was blank, completely blissed out. the heat of you wrapped around him intoxicating, he could cum at any second.

“too much… too good… which is it,” you giggle with a sharp inhale, taehyun bucking into you, hitting deep inside you. your has gone voice soft and breathy as you too were getting close. “should we stop or should we keep going?”

“i don’t know - i don’t fucking know - i can’t think anymore…” he brokenly grits out between gasps, shaking his head wildly. he starts unabashedly fucking you, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you up so you slightly hover over him, recklessly pounding into you.

"t-taehyun, hold on... mmph-!" you stutter over your words, each thrust hitting right against your sweet spot, making you clench and leaving you speechless.

“i just… i just wanna cum, please…” he weakly chokes out, not hearing anything you say. his eyes glazed over as he looks up at you through his tears. “please tell me i can cum~”

you feel your climax coming, short breaths being punched out of you every time taehyun roughly pushes in.

“gonna cum together, yeah?” you whisper as your body tenses, holding eye contact with taehyun. the tears spilling down the sides of his face, nose red, lips red and bitten, so lewd.

taehyun can only nod in response, his breath catching in his throat when he feels you pulse around him, eyes rolling back as he gives one last thrust, burying himself inside you.

“oh fuck-”

©lucidwntrr est. 2025

[missmadella]

„How they react when you fall asleep on their shoulder“ // Tokyo Revengers

Charakters: Mikey, Sanzu, Shinichiro, Chifuyu, Ran, Rindou, Kazutora, Baji

Synopsis: It’s late. The chaos of the day finally fades into a soft, golden quiet, and you find yourself by their side — close, warm, safe. You don’t mean to fall asleep on their shoulder. It just… happens. You’re exhausted, and something about their presence calms you in a way nothing else can.

You don't see the way they freeze at first, caught off guard. You don't hear the way their breath catches when they realize you've let your guard down completely. But in that moment — soft breaths, the weight of your head on them, their heart beating louder than they'd like to admit — something shifts.

Mikey (Manjiro Sano):

Mikey didn’t say much when he invited you to the rooftop. He just looked at you with that unreadable expression of his — calm, a little blank, but something warm hidden underneath — and jerked his head toward the ladder with a barely audible,

“C’mon.”

You followed him, as always.

Now, the two of you are sitting side by side. The city hums quietly below, but up here, it’s just wind and distant sounds of laughter. Mikey's legs are crossed beneath him, and he’s picking idly at the hem of his Toman hoodie. You're leaning against the wooden railing, eyes slowly growing heavier as the sun dips lower.

He hasn't said a word in at least fifteen minutes.

He doesn’t need to.

Just being near him — especially in these quiet, peaceful moments ��� has always made you feel safe. You let your eyes flutter shut for just a second, telling yourself you’re not falling asleep, just resting.

But then your head tilts.

And it lands on Mikey’s shoulder.

At first, he tenses — the smallest flinch in his posture, as if the unexpected weight startles him. He glances sideways, expecting to see you teasing him or saying something sarcastic.

But you're asleep. Genuinely asleep.

Your breathing is soft and slow. Your face is relaxed, lips barely parted. Your hair brushes against his neck. He stares at you for a long moment, unmoving.

Then something flickers in his eyes. A faint crease of surprise gives way to a softness he rarely shows anyone.

“You’re really out, huh…”

His voice is low, almost a whisper. He doesn’t want to wake you — not when you look like that. So peaceful. So trusting.

A breeze rolls in, brushing through both your hair. Without thinking, Mikey shifts slightly to shield you from the wind, moving his arm so that you're tucked in just a little closer. Your head slides down naturally into the crook of his neck.

His hand twitches at his side, unsure. He considers pulling away. Maybe letting you down gently.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he just sits there. Completely still. Like moving even an inch would break the fragile quiet around you both.

And in that stillness, his mind drifts.

He thinks about how strange it is — having someone so close, so warm, resting on him like he’s worth leaning on. Like he’s safe. He’s not used to that.

He’s the leader. The one who protects. The one who carries the weight.

But right now? Right now, someone’s leaning on him without asking him to do or be anything else. And it makes something ache deep in his chest in a way he can’t name.

“You really trust me that much, huh…” he murmurs again, this time more to himself.

He lets his head rest against yours.

And just for a moment — just a single, stolen moment — he allows himself to pretend that this could last forever. That there’s no gang, no violence, no ghosts from the past or monsters in the mirror. Just you. Breathing gently beside him.

A warmth he doesn’t get to feel often.

When he eventually speaks again, it's so quiet you almost miss it — even in your sleep.

“...Please don’t go anywhere.”

He closes his eyes. And for once, Mikey lets himself rest too.

___________________________________________________________________________

Sanzu Haruchiyo:

The ride is quiet.

The city passes in a blur outside the window, neon signs flickering over the glass. You're exhausted — the kind of bone-deep tired that settles into your shoulders and your eyelids. It had been a long day; meetings, tension, and chaos seemed to follow Sanzu wherever he went.

He hadn’t spoken much after the meeting. Just slid into the back seat with you, leaned his head back, and stared at the ceiling like he was somewhere far away.

Now, the two of you sit side by side, your thigh pressed lightly against his. He hasn’t moved. He’s gripping his lighter in one hand, flipping it open and shut over and over, the metal clicks like a metronome counting out the seconds.

You don’t mean to fall asleep.

But the silence is thick, his presence is warm, and your head slowly starts to droop… until it lands softly on his shoulder.

The lighter stills in his hand.

He blinks.

“...What the hell.”

He glances down, expecting you to immediately pull away or laugh, or maybe groan and apologize for zoning out.

But you don’t move.

You're breathing slow, deep. Your head rests right at the curve of his neck, lips just barely brushing against his jaw when you exhale. You’re asleep. Fully, peacefully, asleep.

And something in him short-circuits.

His first instinct is panic. His body goes tense, rigid — like he’s been caught in something he doesn’t know how to escape from.

They fell asleep. On me. On purpose? No. No, not on purpose. People don’t do that. People don’t trust me like that.

He looks down at you again. You're still there. Still soft and quiet and unaware that you just cracked open something he keeps bolted shut inside his chest.

His jaw tightens.

He wants to wake you. He knows he should — that would be the logical, safe thing to do. Get you off of him before you regret it. Before he does something stupid, like hope this means something.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lets his head tilt slightly toward yours. Just enough that his temple brushes against your hair. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

The driver glances at the rearview mirror. He sees Sanzu — the Sanzu — still as a statue, staring at nothing with your head on his shoulder.

The driver says nothing.

Smart man.

Sanzu lets his hand fall into his lap, still clutching the lighter, but not flicking it anymore.

“...This is dangerous, y’know,” he murmurs. “Fallin’ asleep on people like me.”

His voice is rough. Quiet. Like gravel under water. He glances down again — you haven’t moved.

“I’m not... built for shit like this.”

He leans his head back against the seat, eyes fixed on the roof of the car. His fingers twitch slightly, like he's fighting every nerve that wants to wrap an arm around you.

He doesn't. But he wants to.

“You shouldn’t trust me.”

But his voice cracks halfway through the sentence.

There’s no rage in him tonight. No manic smile. No twitchy tension in his jaw. Just... silence. And the weight of you, warm and real and heartbreakingly gentle, resting on him like you don't see him the way the world does.

Like you see past the bloodstained hands, the scars, the madness.

Like you see him.

And that’s the scariest part.

“...Please don’t wake up,” he whispers. “Not yet. Just let me have this.”

The car rolls down empty streets. And for the first time in a long, long time… Sanzu doesn’t feel alone.

___________________________________________________________________________

Shinichiro Sano:

It’s quiet in the garage, except for the occasional clink of a tool and the soft hum of the radio playing some old mellow tune. The kind of music that settles in your bones and makes the air feel heavier — in a good way.

Shinichiro's working on a bike again. You don’t even know whose — maybe it's his, maybe it’s a client’s — but he always looks peaceful when he's got a wrench in hand and grease on his cheek.

You’re sitting on an overturned milk crate next to him, arms loosely wrapped around your knees, half-listening to him explain something about the engine. His voice is soft, tired, but full of a quiet passion.

“You’ve gotta feel it, y’know? Machines talk to you if you listen close enough... like people.”

You don’t respond. Not because you’re ignoring him — you’re just... warm. Comfortable. Sleepy.

The air smells like oil and cold metal, but his presence is like a blanket around you.

You don’t realize when your head starts to tilt.

He notices.

Mid-sentence, he feels the weight of your head gently settle against his shoulder. His words trail off into nothing.

He glances down.

You’re out.

And Shinichiro?

He freezes.

For a guy who’s led gangs, fought in countless brawls, and rebuilt entire engines from scratch — he suddenly has no idea what to do with his body.

His shoulders lock up. His hand hovers in the air, holding a screwdriver mid-turn, like if he breathes too loud he might wake you.

He looks at your face. The way your lips are parted ever so slightly. How peaceful you look. How close you are.

His heart does something weird — stumbles, maybe. Trips over itself.

“Oh,” he whispers to no one, because there's no one else here. Just you. Just him. “You… trust me this much?”

He slowly sets the screwdriver down and wipes his hands on a towel, careful not to jostle you. You murmur something in your sleep and shift a little, but you don’t move away.

Shinichiro can’t stop staring at you.

You look so soft. So open. So his, in a way he knows isn’t real, but feels real enough to hurt.

“God… you’re gonna kill me,” he murmurs with a half-smile. “Falling asleep on me like that.”

He leans his head gently against yours. Lets his eyes close for a second. Just one.

The radio plays something slow and dreamy. Something that makes you want to close your eyes and imagine better days.

And Shinichiro does.

He imagines what it would be like if this was normal. If this happened all the time — you coming by after work, leaning on him while he tinkers with a bike. Falling asleep on his shoulder without fear. Waking up beside him with messy hair and sleep-heavy eyes.

He lets himself believe in that version of life for just a moment.

Then he opens his eyes, breathes in the scent of your shampoo mixed with oil and metal.

“...Don’t leave,” he whispers, barely audible. “Even if it’s just for tonight.”

And he stays still like that — shoulder supporting you, heart aching in the most fragile, beautiful way — until long after the song ends and the stars start to show through the open garage door.

___________________________________________________________________________

Chifuyu Matsuno:

The train was crowded, but somehow you and Chifuyu found a small pocket of space near the window — a quiet corner where the pressing bodies of strangers softened into a distant murmur.

Chifuyu was standing, but had somehow managed to find a spot where you could lean against him without feeling too awkward. The constant sway of the train rocked gently beneath your feet and body.

You weren’t good at hiding exhaustion — and tonight, after all the noise, the chaos, and the never-ending obligations of the day, your eyelids were heavy, your limbs sluggish, and your breath shallow.

You tried to focus on the muted sounds of the city blurring by outside the window, but slowly your head began to dip. It felt natural, like falling into the calm eye of a storm.

You glanced up briefly, blinking drowsily, and then — without thinking — your head tilted sideways, finding a resting place on Chifuyu’s shoulder.

You barely realized what you’d done until you were already asleep, your breathing slow and even, small little sighs escaping you with each exhale.

Chifuyu’s entire body stiffened instantly.

He swallowed hard, heart thudding in a way that made his ears warm.

“Y/N...” His voice was barely a whisper, more breath than sound.

He stared down at you, half-expecting you to snap awake, to pull away and apologize.

But you didn’t.

You were completely and utterly asleep.

The sight of you, so vulnerable and peaceful against his side, unsettled him in a way he didn’t expect.

His hand twitched hesitantly — he wanted to reach up and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, but he was terrified he’d wake you.

He didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break the fragile silence that stretched between you two like a thread.

The train rattled on, the noise and motion lulling you deeper into sleep.

Chifuyu’s mind raced with things he rarely said out loud.

“I’m... lucky, aren’t I?”

“I want to protect you forever.”

He shifted just a little, careful not to disturb you, and instinctively wrapped his arm lightly around your waist — a small, protective gesture that made his cheeks flush when he realized he was doing it.

His breath caught again when you snuggled closer without waking.

For a moment, the world outside the train seemed to disappear — all that mattered was the warmth of your body against his, the steady rhythm of your breathing, and the quiet hum of the tracks beneath you.

His gaze softened as he looked at your sleeping face — soft, relaxed, unguarded.

“I love you” He murmured quietly.

He leaned his head gently against yours, careful to keep still.

There was something so delicate about this moment — so raw and intimate — that Chifuyu’s usually steady heart faltered.

He didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but he didn’t want it to end.

He wanted to memorize every detail — the way your hair fell, the rise and fall of your chest, the softness of your eyelashes against your cheek.

For once, Chifuyu didn’t have to put on a brave face or be the tough one.

Here, with you asleep on his shoulder, he could just be himself.

And it was enough.

___________________________________________________________________________

Ran Haitani:

The park was quiet except for the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city. You sat close to Ran on the wooden bench, the cool night air brushing your skin. The conversation had slowed, comfortable silence settling between you after a long day.

You felt yourself growing heavy with exhaustion. Without even realizing it, your head tilted and gently rested on Ran’s shoulder.

He froze for a second, eyes flicking down to you with surprise. A sly smirk tugged at his lips.

“Already tuckered out?” he teased, but his voice was low, almost gentle.

Your breathing slowed, steadying into soft, even breaths. Ran’s smirk softened into a rare, quiet smile. His usual sharp gaze softened as he watched your peaceful face.

He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you. His hand twitched, as if wanting to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear — but he pulled it back, suddenly shy.

For a heartbeat, the world shrank to just the two of you — the cool air, the rustling leaves, the soft warmth of your head resting against him.

Ran’s protective arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer to shield you from the chill.

“You don’t have to be so tough all the time, you know,” he muttered, voice thick with something unspoken.

Your eyelids fluttered, and you murmured something in your sleep. Ran’s gaze drifted down to your lips, parted slightly as you breathed.

Something inside him shifted — a mix of boldness and hesitation.

He leaned in just a little, eyes searching yours, as if looking for permission.

When he didn’t pull away, his lips brushed gently against yours — soft, fleeting, like a whisper.

You stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

Ran pulled back just enough to see if you were truly asleep. When you didn’t move, his lips curved into a small, almost shy smile.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” he whispered.

The cool night wrapped around you both, but for the first time, the chill didn’t bother him — because you were here, leaning on him, close enough to feel your warmth.

___________________________________________________________________________

Rindou Haitani:

The backroom was dim, lit only by the flicker of a lone neon sign leaking in through a cracked window. Cigarette smoke curled in lazy spirals around the room, mixing with the faint smell of spilled beer and the metallic tang of late-night tension. The city’s noise was a distant hum, muffled and almost comforting in its constancy.

Rindou sat slouched on the worn leather couch, one arm draped over the back, the other loosely clutching a half-empty glass of whiskey. His usually sharp eyes looked tired, the edges softened by exhaustion and whatever storm had passed during the day.

You sat beside him, too tired to form words, your limbs heavy, mind foggy from the weight of everything you’d faced. The silence between you was thick but not uncomfortable — more like a fragile peace, the kind that only comes after a battle fought and survived.

Your head started to dip, eyelids fluttering like delicate curtains in a breeze.

Then, without meaning to, your cheek found rest against Rindou’s broad shoulder.

He froze.

His breath hitched in his throat — surprise, maybe, or something deeper — a rare crack in his tough, wild exterior.

His first instinct was to pull away, to shake you off like an itch, because closeness like this wasn’t something he gave freely.

But the way your soft breath warmed his skin, the gentle weight of your head — it stopped him.

Instead, Rindou let out a low, gravelly chuckle, half amusement, half disbelief.

“Don’t get comfortable,” he muttered, voice rough but calm.

He shifted just enough to settle you more securely against him. His arm moved slowly, hesitating only a moment before wrapping around your waist, pulling you in just a bit—not tight, but close enough that you couldn’t slip away if you tried.

His eyes softened as he looked down at you, peaceful now, completely at ease.

“Look at you... finally letting yourself rest,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Your breathing evened, slow and deep, each exhale a small surrender.

Rindou’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t used to this — vulnerability, softness, intimacy. It unsettled him, made his heart thump a little faster in a way he’d never admit.

He leaned his head down, so his temple lightly brushed against yours, grounding himself in the moment.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice low but with a possessive tenderness that made the air between you thicken.

His fingers twitched, then moved to brush your hair back from your face. His touch was rough, calloused — but careful, gentle.

The contrast made the moment feel even more charged.

His thoughts raced:

You’re the only one I’d let do this. The only one I’d let see me like this.

God, don’t wake up yet.

Not when you’re this close.

Time seemed to slow, stretched out over the soft sounds of the city and your quiet breathing.

For a man who thrived on chaos and conflict, this fragile peace was foreign — almost terrifying.

But also... it felt right.

Rindou didn’t want this moment to end.

He wanted to protect you like this, hold you like this, keep you close like this.

And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be the reason you could finally let your guard down.

___________________________________________________________________________

Kazutora Hanemiya:

The city sprawled out beneath you, bathed in the soft gold of the setting sun. The warm breeze tugged at your clothes and tangled your hair, carrying with it the distant sounds of the city winding down after a long day.

You sat beside Kazutora on the rooftop ledge, legs dangling over the edge, close enough that your shoulders brushed. You had been talking — really talking — more than usual, peeling back layers that had long been buried under pain, anger, and regret.

The conversation had slowed, and the silence that followed was thick but not uncomfortable. It felt like the space between two people who understood the weight of what had been said without needing more words.

Your eyelids grew heavy. You didn’t mean to, but the exhaustion, both physical and emotional, made you sway toward him. Your head found a resting place on Kazutora’s shoulder.

At first, his body stiffened — his mind screamed at him to pull away, to keep his distance like always.

But when he felt the soft weight of you against him, something inside him broke open.

He glanced down at your peaceful face — the way your eyes fluttered closed, the slow, even rise and fall of your breath — and his heart clenched painfully.

His lips pressed into a thin line. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the surge of emotion from his voice.

““You’re not supposed to be this close to me.” he muttered quietly, but there was no anger or bitterness in his tone — only something fragile, almost scared.

Still, despite his words, his arm rose on its own accord. It moved slowly, hesitating for a heartbeat, before wrapping around your waist with a firm but gentle hold.

He wasn’t sure if he was trying to hold you close to keep you safe — or if he was holding on to you because he was terrified of losing you.

Kazutora’s chest tightened with an ache he’d never been able to fully explain.

I don’t want to lose you.

The thought was raw and simple, yet it shook him to his core.

The city’s lights began to flicker on, one by one, illuminating the darkening streets below.

Kazutora lowered his head until his temple brushed lightly against yours — a quiet gesture that somehow felt like the loudest thing he could say.

His voice was barely a whisper, thick with emotion.

“I’m scared...” “Scared that if I let go, you’ll leave.”

His fingers trembled slightly as they brushed over your hair, tracing gentle patterns without thought.

He didn’t want to admit how much you meant to him. Didn’t want to face how vulnerable he felt in this moment — but you were here, asleep on his shoulder, and all he wanted was to be the reason you could rest.

He tightened his hold just a little, as if by holding you he could keep the fear at bay.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he confessed again, barely able to meet your eyes, but hoping you could somehow feel it.

The golden light faded into twilight, but the quiet warmth between you lingered — fragile, beautiful, and unspoken.

_________________________________________________________________________

Baji Keisuke:

The room was wrapped in a cozy hush, broken only by the faint hum of the city outside and the slow, steady ticking of an old clock on the wall. The soft glow of a single lamp bathed everything in warm amber light, making the worn couch you sat on feel like the safest place in the world.

You and Baji had come back after a long, exhausting day. The adrenaline of the fights and chaos had worn off, leaving only the heavy, quiet exhaustion behind.

Your limbs felt like lead, your mind too tired to form coherent thoughts. Without even realizing it, your head slowly tipped, and you found yourself leaning gently on Baji’s shoulder.

For a split second, he stiffened, surprised by the sudden closeness — but then that grin spread across his face, half teasing, half fond.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered softly, nudging you with his shoulder, “getting all cozy on me, huh?”

You sighed softly in response, sinking a little more into his side, surrendering to the comfort you hadn’t known you needed.

His smirk softened into something warmer as he glanced down at you — eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something tender.

“You always this wiped out, or is it just when you’re with me?” he joked, voice low, but full of warmth.

Baji shifted slightly, leaning in closer until your shoulders touched fully. His arm instinctively slid around your waist, pulling you snugly against him.

“You don’t have to say it out loud,” he murmured quietly, “I know you trust me.”

The teasing faded from his voice, replaced by something more serious, more real.

He turned his gaze toward the window, where the city lights twinkled like distant stars.

“I’ll protect you,” he promised, voice steady and sure, “No matter what comes.”

His fingers started tracing slow, gentle circles on your side, a silent reassurance that only you could feel.

Your breathing grew even slower, the exhaustion deepening into a peaceful sleep.

Baji’s heart tightened with a warmth that made him want to say more, but words failed him in that moment.

He stole a glance at your face, so calm and vulnerable — and it hit him just how much you meant to him.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, voice soft and almost awed, “you’re really something.”

He tightened his hold just a little, like anchoring himself — and you — in that moment.

The quiet room felt alive with all the unspoken promises, fears, and hope that lingered in the space between you.

And for once, Baji let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be the one to keep you safe.

[svtiddiess]

Red Silk

Synopsis: Your boyfriend's birthday gift? Him—wrapped in a pretty little bow under you.

Pairing: Mingyu (SVT) x afab!reader

Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, oneshot

Rating: mature/nsfw

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: no plot just filth, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), bondage, blindfolds, masturbation, ab riding, degradation, spanking, creampie, big dick!Mingyu, size kink, mean dom!Mingyu, sub!reader, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Mandatory Mingyu birthday fic. Happy Birthday, Mingoori! I hope your birthday is filled with lots of love and happiness!

Thank you @chugging-antiseptic-dye for beta reading!

Thank you @okiedokrie for the amazing banner and dividers!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

A soft giggle escapes your lips as you put the finishing touches on the crimson silk ribbon. Leaning back, you admire your handiwork: red silk wrapped snugly around your boyfriend's toned and naked body, his hands pinned together at the top with the ribbon in a delicate bow keeping him in place. It's hard not to let your eyes linger—his tan biceps straining against the vibrant red, his hooded gaze locks onto yours, and his pink tongue occasionally darts out to wet his lips.

"This doesn't really feel like a birthday gift, babygirl," Mingyu grumbles, tugging lightly at the restraints.

You chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Oh, but it is! You just have to trust me, Gyu."

He lets out a resigned sigh as you shift off the bed, his eyes following your every move.

"I've got another surprise for you," you purr, your voice dripping sugar tainted with mischief.

With a teasing smile, you slowly undo the robe you're wearing, letting it slip to the floor and revealing the red lingerie underneath, matching the silk binding Mingyu. His eyes widen, and a low growl rumbles in his chest as he tugs harder at the restraints. You can't help but giggle at his futile struggle.

"Do you like the surprise, Gyu?" you tease, giving him a playful twirl and a little show.

"Untie me. Now," he demands, his voice rough and dark with desire.

"But that would ruin the gift," you faux pout, very much enjoying his reactions.

"Baby," he growls, his voice dropping even lower.

"Yes?" you reply, grinning ear to ear.

"Untie me."

"Nope."

His biceps flex as he strains against the silk, the material digging into his skin. Your eyes light up as an idea strikes you. Giggling to yourself, you grab your phone and open the camera app. The moment was too perfect not to capture. Mingyu's dark, intense gaze follows you as you snap a few pictures, his expression a mix of irritation and something far more primal.

"You look so pretty like this, Gyu," you croon, unable to hide your amusement.

"Alright, fun's over, babygirl. Untie me. Now," he growls, his patience wearing thin.

"Oh, but we're just getting started, my dearest Mingyu," you smirk, your voice dripping with playful defiance.

His eyes track you as you walk over to the cupboard and pull out another red silk ribbon, this one shorter than the one binding him. You return to the bed, straddling him once more, a mischievous grin plastered across your face.

"One last surprise," you whisper against his ear, your breath warm as you tie the ribbon around his eyes, blindfolding him.

Leaning back, you take in the full picture—your strong, dominant boyfriend, now completely at your mercy, tied up and blindfolded—your masterpiece is finally complete.

Another growl rumbles from Mingyu's throat as he tugs at his restraints, clearly caught off guard by the blindfold.

"Do you like your blindfold?" you tease.

"No," he grumbles and keeps on tugging. The irritation in his voice only makes you laugh.

"Don't worry," you murmur, "it's only going to get better from here."

"With you? Doubt it." His voice is thick with irritation, but you catch the underlying tension—the way his muscles coil in tension (and anticipation) underneath the silk.

A slow grin curls your lips as you settle back, spreading your legs just outside of his. Beneath you, Mingyu is tense—waiting for the start of the finale.

Biting hard on your bottom lip, you shift your panties aside, slightly embarrassed by how soaked they are. God, the effect he has on you. With a shaky breath, you slide a finger inside, the wet sound obscenely loud in the quiet room.

Mingyu's head tilts, his entire body locking up.

"Baby…what are you doing?"

"G-Guess," you whimper, beginning to move your fingers in slow, deliberate strokes. "If you get it r-right I'll give you another surprise."

A moan slips free as you add a second finger, and you catch the exact moment realisation hits him—his jaw starts clenching, his breaths laboured and hitching.

"Figured it out yet?" You let out a breathy laugh, quickening the pace of your fingers, slick sounds filling the air.

"Babygirl—" His voice drops to a growl, his body straining against the silk holding him in place.

The deep, rough edge of his tone sends a thrill through you, your own moans mingling with the sounds of your fingers fucking into yourself. Your gaze drags over his body—his every muscle taut, his cock hard and dripping against his stomach. Unable to resist, you lean down, swiping your tongue across the tip just to hear him groan, his hips jerking helplessly.

"Gyu, I'm close," you pant, the tight coil in your stomach winding tighter.

"Don't you dare cum," he warns.

You let out a whimpering laugh, the hand currently not inside you circling your clit, determined to push yourself over the edge.

"Fuck!" Your back arches as you come, your release coating your fingers—and spraying Mingyu.

Catching your breath, you shift to straddle him properly, bringing your glistening fingers to his lips.

"Open wide," you purr.

With a low groan, he obeys, sucking your fingers clean, his tongue laving over every drop.

"Untie me," he murmurs against your skin, "and I'll make you cum at least three times with my mouth."

"Tempting," you hum, trailing a finger down his chest. "But I'm not done with your gift yet."

You hurriedly push your panties aside, leaving yourself completely bare. Straddling Mingyu's waist, you sink down, your wetness pressing against his toned abs with a gasp. The moment he realises what's happening, a low growl rumbles in his chest. Your hands brace against his shoulders as you start to move, slow at first, then with growing need.

"G-Gyu—" Your voice trembles, pleasure already coiling tight in your stomach.

Your hips roll faster, your slick coating his skin, making it shine under the dim light.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, head falling back.

His muscles flex beneath you, the friction sending sparks through your nerves. His jaw is clenched, breath ragged—he's barely holding on.

"Let me at least see you, please," he grits out, voice strained.

Taking pity, you reach up and tug off his blindfold. Mingyu blinks, adjusting to the light before his gaze locks onto you—his eyes darkening as he watches your hips work, your arousal dripping down his stomach.

The hunger in his stare only makes you wetter, your movements growing more frantic, chasing another release.

"Yeah, just like that. Use me, babygirl," he growls, and the sound goes straight to your core.

"Gyu, I'm gonna—!" Your nails dig into his shoulders.

"Do it. Make a mess all over me."

His words snap the last thread of control. You cry out as pleasure crashes through you, your body shuddering. Dragging him into a desperate kiss, you swallow his moan, still trembling from your high.

Then—fabric rips.

Suddenly, you're on your back, Mingyu caging you beneath him.

"Had your fun, babygirl?" His grin is all wicked amusement.

"You—how?" you stammer, stunned.

Mingyu only smirks before capturing your lips once more. His movements are hungry, primal—any illusion of control you had is long gone.

One large hand pins both of yours above your head as his lips trail hot kisses down your jaw. His free hand tugs your bralette down, baring your breasts, and a whine escapes you when he pinches a nipple between his fingers.

"I asked if you had fun torturing me, baby," he purrs, twisting it just a little harder.

"Ah! Y-Yes!" Your back arches, desperate for more.

He chuckles against your skin before his mouth closes over one breast, sucking hard while his fingers tease the other. You moan, writhing under his touch—until he suddenly hooks your leg over his shoulder and slams into you without warning.

Your eyes roll back. Mingyu's big, always so careful to prep you first, but tonight, you've pushed him too far.

His hips piston into you relentlessly, as his mouth and hands work your breasts. You're pinned, overwhelmed, your mind melting under the sheer pleasure of him filling you, stretching you, owning you.

"Please let me cum, please!" you sob, teetering on the edge.

"No." His teeth graze your neck. "You don't get to."

"P-Please, I can't—!" Tears spill as you struggle beneath him, but his grip is iron, his pace unyielding.

"You didn't untie me when I asked," he growls, "so now you don't get to cum."

You whimper and thrash, but his huge body is pressed against yours, reducing you to nothing but gasps and broken moans. You try—god, you try—to hold back, but the pleasure crashes over you, your body convulsing as you shatter anyway.

Dazed, you blink up at him, barely registering his scowl before his hand grips your jaw.

"Didn't I say no?" His voice is dangerously low.

"'M sorry—"

A dark laugh. "Count."

Then he's flipping you over, and you know you're in for it.

A sharp smack echoes through the room, followed by a stinging burn across your backside. Then another lands—harder this time.

"I said fucking count," Mingyu growls, delivering another punishing strike with his broad hand.

"T-Three!" you stammer, tears already streaking down your cheeks.

"Looks like you're finally learning to follow orders," he sneers before landing another blow.

"F-Four," you whimper, the mix of pain and pleasure sending shivers down your spine. You know your ass will ache tomorrow, but right now, you're too lost in the haze of sensation to care.

The next few smacks come in quick succession, each one fiercer than the last, until you're nothing but a trembling, sobbing mess. He clicks his tongue, his hand soothing the heated skin with a gentle rub.

"I'm not done with you yet, babygirl," he murmurs.

A choked moan escapes you as he pushes inside again, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. His thrusts rock your entire body, leaving no room for thought—just Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu echoing in your mind. A low whine builds in your throat as another orgasm coils tight inside you.

"Gonna cum again, baby?" he groans, feeling you clench around him.

You nod desperately, too far gone to speak. Mingyu chuckles at your wrecked state.

"Go on, babygirl. Let go for me," he purrs.

And just like that, you shatter again. Pleasure whites out your vision, your ears ringing as your body convulses around him. He fucks you through it, chasing his own release before finally spilling into you with a deep moan. For a moment, all you hear is the panting of heavy breaths—then he collapses on top of you, pulling you into a crushing embrace.

"Mingyu! You're heavy!" you complain halfheartedly.

"Don't care," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

You sigh but don't push him off. His weight is oddly comforting, like a human-weighted blanket.

"…How did you even get loose?" you murmur after a beat.

"Was never tied up in the first place, baby," he admits with a laugh, fingers carding through your hair.

"What?!" Your eyes widen. "So all that struggling against the ropes—"

"—was just for show," he grins. "You put so much effort into tying me up. Didn't wanna ruin your fun."

You pout. "I'll get you next time, Kim Mingyu."

"Good luck with that, babygirl," he teases.

"At least tell me you liked your present," you huff.

"Loved it," he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Put on quite the performance for me."

"You better be grateful. I worked hard on it," you mutter petulantly.

"Mmhm, thank you, my precious baby," he coos, sealing your lips in a slow, deep kiss.

You grin against his mouth, whispering, "Happy Birthday, Gyu."

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @foxiesgf24 @livelaughloveseventeen @kwanniehae @ateez-atiny380 @junnhuisworld @horangipower17 @cheolsbb26 @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @cherrybb96 @smiileflower @yumyumcoo

[hischierhoney]

Just Friends

Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader

summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words

warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(

Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.

You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”

He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”

Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.

You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.

“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.

Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”

Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“

“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”

He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.

“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.

You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”

He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.

…..

Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.

Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.

He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.

Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.

When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.

Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.

“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”

“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”

“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”

“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”

Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.

…..

The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.

It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.

He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.

He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.

He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.

It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.

You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”

Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”

That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.

He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.

“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”

He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”

He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.

The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”

You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.

You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.

He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.

…..

It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.

He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.

“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“

“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”

“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”

Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.

“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.

He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.

His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.

He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.

“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.

You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”

God, he wishes.

…..

Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.

They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.

There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.

When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.

“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”

He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”

You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”

Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.

“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“

He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.

“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”

He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.

“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”

God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.

…..

Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.

He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.

“You’re here,” he says, quietly.

Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”

He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.

“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”

He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.

“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.

He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.

“You’re pretty,” you say back.

He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”

“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.

“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.

“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.

“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”

If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.

You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”

And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.

You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”

He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”

It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.

You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”

He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“

Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.

“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”

By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.

“She can stay,” Jack says.

You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.

He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.

“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.

Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.

Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”

Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.

“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”

Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.

He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”

You nod. “I know.”

He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“

You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”

Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.

“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”

You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”

That’s enough for Jack, for now.

He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.

“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.

You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.

“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”

When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.

…..

He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.

Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”

Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”

“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”

He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.

He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.

He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.

“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.

“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”

You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.

a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!

[noorpersona]

Favourite Positions: Hinata

You didn’t usually date short guys.

It wasn’t personal—just a preference. You liked being manhandled. Liked being tossed around, bent over, pinned. You’d always thought height made that easier. You wanted to be overwhelmed, and you never thought someone with a boyish grin and a 174 cm frame would be the one to do it.

But Hinata Shōyō?

Was a beast.

Not just in the way he moved, though that was devastating enough. He had stamina for days, legs like pistons, arms strong enough to lift you like you weighed nothing. But it was the way he looked at you when he was inside you—like he was starved, like he was built for this. Like your pleasure was his mission.

And when you were underneath him? Flat on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders, Hinata kneeling over you with your ankles hooked behind his neck?

There was no going back.

“I wanna see everything,” he’d whispered the first time, flushed and breathless, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance. “Wanna see your face when I make you lose it.”

And now?

Now he was fucking you like he meant it.

Your thighs trembled where they rested over his shoulders, calves draped down his back as his hips snapped into yours. His hands were braced beside your head, body bent forward so his chest hovered over yours. The position had you folded nearly in half, stretched wide, completely taken.

“So—tight,” he groaned, jaw clenched as he pounded into you with brutal rhythm, curls damp and clinging to his forehead. “God, you feel… fuck… you feel so good.”

Your back arched off the bed, fingers fisting the sheets, eyes fluttering as pleasure crackled through your nerves.

“Shōyō—too deep, it’s too much—”

“No,” he gasped, snapping his hips harder, “It’s perfect. You can take it. Just hold on, I’ve got you.”

You sobbed as his cock hit that devastating spot inside you over and over, your body clenching, quivering. The position had you stretched and pinned, his body grinding into yours with relentless force. You could feel the headboard banging against the wall, the slap of skin-on-skin loud in the air.

Hinata leaned closer, your knees nearly pressed to your chest, and he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together as he fucked you harder.

“I wanna see it,” he panted, eyes fixed on your face. “Come for me. Right now. Let me see how pretty you look when you break.”

And you did.

You shattered with a scream, back arching violently, mouth falling open in a ragged cry as your orgasm slammed through you. Your vision went white, your body seizing under the weight of the pleasure, twitching uncontrollably. You couldn’t even breathe—couldn’t think.

It didn’t stop.

He kept fucking you through it, hips rolling hard and deep, watching you fall apart beneath him like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Your hands clawed at his arms, thighs trembling wildly, mouth babbling nonsense—you didn’t even realize what you were saying. You were crying. Moaning. Whimpering please and don’t stop in the same breath.

Hinata groaned, deep and broken, and you felt his rhythm falter just slightly before he buried himself deep, grinding his hips hard into yours as he came with a strangled gasp. The warmth of him flooding you only sent another pulse of aftershock through your body, another twitch of oversensitivity that made your breath catch.

He stayed there, chest heaving, forehead resting against yours.

Your chest was heaving, fingers twitching, mind blank except for the echo of your own voice—broken, desperate, high-pitched and gasping his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say.

Your body was still convulsing in little aftershocks when Hinata leaned over you, his breath warm and uneven, and started pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

First to your collarbone. Then lower.

His lips trailed down the curve of your breast, lingering over the swell as his hand spread wide over your stomach—grounding you, holding you, but never still.

You jolted when his mouth dipped lower again, his tongue lapping at the sheen of sweat on your ribs, and then his lips brushed just under your navel.

“Shōyō—” you whimpered, voice rasping from overuse, hips twitching.

He smiled against your skin, kissed lower.

“Too much?” he whispered, but didn’t stop. He was everywhere—on your hips, your thighs, your waist, like he needed to taste every part of what he just ruined.

Every place his mouth touched made you flinch, a fresh wave of oversensitivity crawling across your skin. But you didn’t stop him.

You couldn’t.

And neither could he.

By the time he leaned up again, his hands were back on your waist, thumbs stroking soft, absentminded circles against your flushed skin. His eyes were bright, cheeks still a little pink, and his grin—smug, breathless, a little crooked—stole the last of your breath.

“Wanna go again?”

You blinked. And despite the fact that your legs were jelly, your brain scrambled, your body completely wrecked—you still managed to nod.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.

Yeah. You didn’t usually date short guys.

But Hinata wasn’t like anyone else.

[bullet-prooflove]

Snapband: Jack Abbott x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gabsgabsvaz @yousigned-upforthis @flyinglama @cosmic-psychickitty

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Masochist - You and Jack have an indepth understanding of one another.

Seven Shades of Fucked Up (NSFW) - You know exactly how to get Jack off.

Part of the Job - Violence has always been part of the job, but this time it hits a little too close to home for Jack.

Pittfest - Jack's day turns into a nightmare when he recieves a notification from the hospital regarding a mass casuality event.

In the five minutes before the initial wave Jack calls you seventeen times. He leaves two messages.

“I’m at the hospital. Please call me back.” and “I love you.”

Then he gets to work.

Compartmentalisation, it’s always been his thing but that doesn’t stop him seeking you out every time he steps into The Pitt after clearing a patient for the surgery or the morgue.

“What was she wearing?” Dana asks him as she handles the tablet for the patient BOLO. He can see your work photo has already been uploaded but the rest, it’s blank.  

“I don’t know.” He says running his fingers through those unruly curls as he tries to think back to earlier this afternoon. He’d fallen back asleep after you’d headed into the bathroom, didn’t see you get dressed. “I just don’t…”

That’s when the body rolls past, blood soaking through the white sheet that covers it, your hair tumbling out from underneath it. Right height, right build and a black and white snap band looped around the wrist. He pulls back the sheet to look at the face and finds himself staring into the exit wound of a high calibre weapon. There’s nothing left, not even the scar underneath your hairline from where you cracked your head climbing a tree as a kid. You’ve been completely obliterated.

His world condenses after that. Every single emotion he has shuts down because his heart, it’s been annihilated, there’s not a single shred of him left. His training takes over as he steps away, back into the room where four other people’s lives depend on him.

The clock resets and he’s back in the fray.

Drill, line, rinse, repeat.

It’s the only thing that makes sense.

The moment he stops he’s going to find himself back on that roof and this time he has no reason not to jump.

It’s hour three that his concentration broken by the sound of your voice. It’s fatigue, he thinks, his mind playing tricks on him but there you are being rolled in on a gurney, your thighs straddling another man’s hips, your hand plunged deep into his chest.

“It’s not what it looks like.” You tell him, your gaze meeting his and suddenly it feels like he can breathe again.

“It looks like you’re pinching an artery so this guy doesn’t bleed to death.” He tells you, snapping back into action. He flashes the penlight from his right pocket into the depths of the wound.

“OK, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” You say as he prods at the flesh surrounding your wrist, gauging the space he has to work with.  

“Alright honey.” He murmurs as he picks up a clamp from the metal tray beside him. “Stay still and we’ll have you hands free in a minute.”

He leans in close, his grizzled cheek brushing against yours as you both stare down into the chest cavity. The scent of daffodils floods his senses, mixed with the acrid taint of cordite. You’d been close when that gun was fired, real fucking close.

“You hurt?” He murmurs as he guides the clamp into the hollow of your palm, using the curvature of your fingers as a road map to the exact placement of the perforation.

“No.” You say your breath ghosting in his ear. “No injuries, just a lot of fucked up shit I’m gonna be seeing every time I close my eyes.”

The clamp bites down on the artery, stemming the flow and Jack’s palm comes to rest on your wrist as the clamp protrudes from the open wound. “I’m going to pull your hand out alright? Slow, so we don’t dislodge the clamp.”

“Yes.” You murmur and the two of you work together to remove your hand from the patient’s chest.  

You flex your fingers when they’re free and they shine with viscera under the fluorescent lights as you rotate your wrist. Jesse, the trauma nurse hands you an antiseptic wipe to clean them before Jack’s hands come to rest on your arms, helping you down off the gurney and into his proximity.

“You’re ok.” He whispers, squeezing your shoulders lightly to reassure himself you’re really there.

“Yea, I am.” You tell him as his forehead comes to rest upon on yours. “Now do me a favour and put me to work.”

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mx-paradox]

To Break and Adore {Shidou Ryusei x Itoshi Sae x Reader}

For as much as Sae acted bothered by your combined attentions, he loathed being ignored. There was a reason he chose two clingy lovers, after all. He didn’t know how to take affection normally, so he had to be forcibly smothered in it. He stared up at you. You could see the muscle in his jaw twitching as he warred with himself. You give him one more prod. “If you want something, you’re gonna have to use your words, y’know.” He lets out a sound reminiscent of a cat hiss. “Human words, pussy cat,” Ryusei teases. “I hate you both,” Sae says through gritted teeth. “Now shut up and fuck me.” - Or, Sae, Ryusei, and you fuck nasty for 6k words.

Minors Do Not Interact, explicit smut, reader and sae both have afab anatomy with words like cunt pussy and clit used, no gendered pronouns used for reader, bratty sub sae, dom/slightly switch leaning ryusei and reader, pussy grinding, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, breeding kink, pussy spanking, praise kink, degradation, little bit of objectification i guess, some tacky breeding kink dirty talk courtesy of shidou, multiple orgasms, let me know if i missed a tag, just so much sex i don't know what to tell you. word count: 6200 | Ao3 version

Sae’s so wet already that it drips off him like honey.

It stokes the fire burning in your stomach, seeing such a cold man begin to lose himself from nothing more than a little naked making out. His face is still a blank mask, but you can see the haziness creeping into his eyes. You want him to show how much he likes it. You want to shatter his pretty porcelain mask to pieces and watch him break in your hands.

It’s a testament to his own desire that he lets you flip him so his back is pressed into the sheets and his soft red hair splays across the pillows. He hasn’t given you more of a reaction yet, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow coolly; a challenge, almost. As if he isn’t sprawled under you, thick thighs spread invitingly, the traces of arousal leaking from his glistening pink pussy smeared on their insides.

You smirk down at him, taking his expression as the unspoken challenge it was. You grip his hips, hard enough for him to let out a soft sigh, and pull him closer to you, rearranging your legs to prepare him for what’s next. You're close enough so that when you lean forward to kiss him again, it causes your wet folds to grind against his.

Sae moans into your mouth. His tongue, previously tangled with yours, goes slack with pleasure as you grind your clits together.

You’re barely holding it together yourself; you start out slow, each thrust of your hips sliding your wet pussies together with a loud, sticky-sounding noise. Each time your clit slips through his labia, you can feel just how fucking soaking he is for you. And every time your clits kiss, Sae lets out a whimper that makes you want to wreck him even more.

You can’t help but pick up the pace, frantically humping into your lover as his nails scratch across your back, desperately trying to anchor himself as before the pleasure carries him away completely. He’s not even kissing you anymore; the two of you are just groaning and panting into each other’s open mouths, like animals. He feels so fucking good, a warm, wet, dripping dream as you grind together. A perfect little toy, just for you to ruin.

Your thrusts are becoming less and less coordinated as the lust threatens to overtake you, but Sae doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, his moans are getting even more high pitched, and he’s moving, squirming underneath you, like he doesn’t know whether he wants to escape from the sensations or grind into you to chase the feeling.

You can’t take it anymore. You need to see his face.

He whines when you pull away from your mockery of a kiss; he whines even louder when your more upright position allows you to rut against him harder. The friction of your clits against each other feels so good it almost hurts, making your hands reflexively clench on his waist and your eyes haze over.

When you come back to yourself, you can finally admire what a mess you’ve made of him. His normally sharp green eyes are completely fogged over; they’re glued to you, but you can’t even tell if he sees you or if he’s completely lost in his arousal. His lips are swollen red, slick and gaping, and he’s panting with every whine and moan, open mouth showing you the tip of his pretty pink tongue. Sae Itoshi, the ice prince, has melted underneath you; the porcelain mask has cracked to reveal the pleasure-flushed, wrecked beauty you adore creating.

Your voice is rough when you speak. “Ahh, Sae…” you groan, “You look so fuckin’ pretty all ruined like this…”

He moans at your words, and with one more harsh grind of your pussy to his, he comes.

Eyes rolling back into his head, he lets out a high-pitched whine as he soaks both your cunts with his release. His thighs twitch, trying their best to lock around you, but you force them apart so you can hump him through his orgasm, and chase yours at the same time.

It only takes you a little longer than him to catch it, shuddering as the tight, wet heat in your core snaps, pussy clenching around nothing as pleasure courses through you.

Your limbs unlock after your orgasm finishes washing over you, and you flop down on top of your lover, exhausted.

Sae lets out huff as you slump into him, but he makes no move to push you off. Instead, he pulls you up so he can give you another lazy, sloppy kiss as you both catch your breaths.

“Mmm, was that good, baby?” you ask, pulling away from his sweet lips after a moment.

His face is still lax with satisfaction after his release, but he manages to pull it into something resembling his normal unimpressed expression. “It was okay.”

“Brat. I felt you squirting on me.”

“So vulgar.”

You give him your best shit-eating grin. “Oh, please. You know who we’re both dating. That’s nothing.”

Sae snorts. “True. Where is the horny demon anyways? He normally materializes out of nowhere whenever there’s a hint of something sexual.”

All of a sudden, you hear the front door of your apartment slam open.

“DADDY’S HOME, BABYDOLLS!”

“You fucking summoned him, holy shit,” you cackle.

Sae pinches his nose, like he’s getting a headache, but you catch the faint uptick of his lips.

It doesn’t take long for Ryusei to find the two of you; you hadn’t bothered to move, so when he enters your bedroom, he’s greeted with the sight of his naked lovers on top of each other. His eyes immediately drift down to where your cunts are still pressed together, connected with slow-drying strings of slick, and he grins lecherously.

“Ohohoho, getting frisky without me? How naughty~” He moves closer to the bed, undoing the zip on his pants to reveal he’s not wearing any underwear, a fact that is not surprising in the slightest after knowing him for so long. Also unsurprisingly, he’s already sporting a half-chub just from seeing you both in such a compromising position.

You sit up, stretching so you can grab Ryusei's shirt collar and yank him into a kiss. He wastes no time in shoving his tongue inside, acting like he’s trying to taste every corner of your mouth with it. He makes out with you until you feel your lower stomach growing heavy with arousal again, then he pulls away. He doesn’t leave you alone, however, choosing instead to lick his way down to your throat, before pressing his lips to your skin and sucking harshly.

You let out a surprised moan. You feel a huff of air as he chuckles into your ear before continuing to mark out your skin. You wrap one hand around his nape, pulling him into you as he laps and sucks and bites his way down your neck. The other gropes around blindly, until you can slip it into his open fly and squeeze his warm girth. Your touch causes his cock to fill out even more, and Ryusei to let out a deep groan before he bites down viciously on your shoulder.

He pulls back just before his sharp canines can fully pierce your flesh, but the mark is still vivid enough to throb with blood, in perfect time with your cunt.

“Enjoying the show, pretty boy?”

The voice is enough to remind you of the warm body still trapped partially under yours. Sae’s eyes have darkened several shades, shifting into a stormier tone of green, and they’re locked to you and Ryusei. However, he was ever the brat.

“The two of you look like animals trying to eat each other,” Sae says, voice steadier than you expected from someone who was mewling like a kitten at your touch mere minutes earlier.

Unfortunately for him, Ryusei and you share a braincell. “Kinky,” you say in unison, before meeting each other’s eyes and smiling.

“And frankly,” you continue, mockingly, “bold words from someone who was scratching up my back like a feral cat from a little bit of grinding.”

“Oh, really?” Ryusei purrs, turning to lock eyes with Sae. “Did you make him come hard?”

You scoot backwards and remove your hand from where it’s been languishing in his pants. Two fingers swipe through the mess of slick that is your and Sae’s crotches, raising them up so Ryusei can see how they glisten and drip in the light. “I think he squirted.”

Ryu grips your wrist, pulling your fingers into his mouth. The taste of your combined arousals makes him let out a filthy moan, as he licks and sucks at your digits to get every trace of the flavor he can. He detaches with an audible slurping noise. “Ahh, that’s the stuff~”

Sae lets out a tsk, before sitting up and scooting away on the bed. He seems unruffled, but you know him. You know what the faint cherry-blossom blush dusted along his cheekbones means. He’s still just as aroused as you.

If he thinks he can pull away from your attention, he’s wrong.

“Aww, baby, where are you going?” Ryusei purrs. He climbs onto the bed, one hand beside Sae’s head so he can loom over him. “The party’s just getting started~”

Sae narrows his eyes. “I’m sure the two of you can…entertain yourselves…while I get some well-needed rest.”

You know him well enough to smell his weakness, so you strike. Moving closer, you hover over your boyfriend just like Ryusei is. “Sounds like you’re jealous, Sae. You wanna be the center of attention again, huh?”

His face twitches into a minuscule pout. Ryusei, grin sharp, goes in for the kill shot.

“Thought about you all day, baby. Got so horny thinkin’ about fucking you stupid on my cock.” His voice is deep and raspy. He pulls his cock out from his fly, and you watch, entranced, as he slaps the red, dripping head against Sae’s blushing cunt. Drops of precum drip off of his cock head, melting into the slick coating Sae’s pussy. You want to lick them both.

Sae’s breath hitches. His eyes, like yours, are fixed on Ryusei’s cock. He looks hungry.

“Of course,” Ryusei drawls, “If you wanna go to bed…I can just stuff sweetheart over here with my come instead…” He pulls away from Sae, only to reach out and pinch your clit, making you let out a sound between a whine and a yelp. He grins, cruelly. “See? Baby’s so wet and ready for me…and wanting��”

“Mhmm,” you sigh. You ignore the boy flat on the bed, instead locking eyes with Ryusei and letting him see the heat they hold. He licks his lips. “Kinda wanted to see Sae’s face go all cum-drunk again…but if he doesn’t want to play, then I guess we don’t need him to have a good time.”

You move closer to Ryu, and away from Sae, not looking at him even once.

Just a few inches of distance before your lips connect, and you’re interrupted by a harsh tug to your arm.

Sae scowls up at the both of you, as if he didn’t just pull you two back on top of him.

“Oh?~”

“What is it, kitty?”

You look down at him with the gaze of a predator. Ryusei’s smile is full of teeth, and lust.

For as much as Sae acted bothered by your combined attentions, he loathed being ignored. There was a reason he chose two clingy lovers, after all. He didn’t know how to take affection normally, so he had to be forcibly smothered in it.

He stared up at you. You could see the muscle in his jaw twitching as he warred with himself.

You give him one more prod. “If you want something, you’re gonna have to use your words, y’know.”

He lets out a sound reminiscent of a cat hiss.

“Human words, pussy cat,” Ryusei teases.

“I hate you both,” Sae says through gritted teeth. “Now shut up and fuck me.”

-

Sae’s fingernails dig crescent-moon-shaped marks into the meat of your thighs. He was eating you out until he finally got too fuck-drunk to concentrate; now, he lets you lazily grind on his tongue, his eyes rolled back and face lax with overstimulation.

Ryusei fucks into him with the strength of a battering ram. Each thrust of his hips shoves Sae’s face further into your cunt. Ryu is smiling, a sharp, cruel grin, showing off all of his teeth, even as the first drops of sweat trail down his neck and chest from the exertion. You can see the barest glimpse of his cock every time it leaves Sae, glinting in the light with a mixture of slick and frothy precum; the sound it makes is obscene. The only thing keeping Sae from lying prone on the bed are Ryusei’s hands holding his hips up. His grip is so tight that you know it’s going to leave pretty wine-purple marks on your lover’s pale skin; marks you can use to torment Sae later. You can’t wait to poke those healing bruises and watch him blush and bristle at the reminder of what he let the two of you do to him on a near-daily basis. As if you didn’t know all the places to touch that would make him whine and shake, as if Ryusei couldn’t make him putty with one good stroke of his dick. It was so cute to watch him act high and mighty all the time, as if he wasn’t your little toy in the bedroom.

“Isn’t that right?” you say to yourself, voice slurring a bit as you ride Sae’s face. “You’re just our little toy, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t respond, too out of it to listen; however, unfortunately for him, Ryusei hears.

“Oh, didya hear that, Sae-chan?” he coos. He stops the jackhammering motion of his hips, holding Sae speared onto his cock. Your other boyfriend lets out a whine, gripping your thighs harshly in protest. After a few seconds of not being force-fed pleasure, he lifts his head to squint up at you. The haze hadn’t fully faded from his eyes, but even so, his lip curls up into a little sneer.

“Th’ fuck did you stop?” he rasps.

Ryusei leans over him, pressing his chest to Sae’s back; the latter lets out a small whine as Ryusei’s cock is forced even deeper into him. “Maybe,” Ryusei rasps, breathing directly into Sae’s ear, “I was waiting for you to say ‘yes.’”

“Yes to what, demon?” Sae snips.

“Yes when I asked you if you were just our little toy,” you interrupt.

Even trapped between you and Ryusei as he is, even though he was having the brains fucked out of him not even five minutes ago, Sae’s fire hasn’t been fully dampened. “’M not anyone’s toy,” he says defiantly. His cheeks are flushed an ever-deepening pink, his bangs slicked with sweat, lips swollen and sticky with your slick. Yet he still has a little spark in his eyes, the flickers of rebellion glittering in their sea-green depths.

You think you’ll have fun snuffing that spark out. Ryusei meets your eyes, and you can tell from the hungry glint in them that he feels the same.

Without warning, he bites into the soft flesh of Sae’s shoulder, causing him to let out a yelp that turned into a low moan. “But you’re not just anyone’s toy, babydoll, you’re our toy.”

“Of course you are,” you purr. You hook your thumb into Sae’s mouth, tilting his chin up as you press down onto his soft tongue. “A bratty little doll, but ours. As if we’d let just anyone have you. Not when you melt so prettily for us.”

He still has the little spark of conflict in his eyes, but it’s partially obscured by the glistening crystal tears clinging onto his lashes. Just a little spark of good pain, a little show of dominance, of ownership, and his sharp claws temporarily retract.

You felt a large hand grasp behind your neck, before Ryusei pulls you in to smash his lips into yours. He plunders your mouth, pure passion dripping from every movement of his tongue; you match him as best as you can, harsh enough to nick his lips with your teeth, spreading a hint of the rich metallic flavor of his blood against your palate.

Nothing got the two of you going like making Sae break his perfect icy facade.

However…the game wasn't over yet. Though Sae's mask was cracking, it hadn't completely shattered. After all, he still was able to talk.

Ryusei's leaning into your kiss had caused his cock to grind just a little bit further into Sae, seemingly pacifying him enough even though your attention had strayed from him for a minute. But not forever. As Ryusei's brutal pounding had ceased, Sae was able to gather enough mental faculties again to resume licking at your cunt, drawing your attention back to him once more.

You pull away from Ryusei's mouth, and look down at Sae. He's infuriatingly good at eating you out, when he focuses on you; for what he lacks of Ryusei's unrelenting animal hunger for your pussy, he makes up for in technique. Each stroke of his tongue between your folds is followed by a light kiss or suck to your clit; he meticulously observes your reactions so he knows just how to stimulate your nerves to extract the most pleasure. You shudder, involuntarily, as his ministrations send a frisson of heat through you.

As soon as he knows he has your attention back, when he knows you are focused on his actions and the sweat-tear-slick glisten of his face between your thighs, he stops.

"Forgot your toy?" he rasps, a hint of his usual mocking underneath. He makes sure to make eye contact with both you and Ryusei, challenging.

"Of course not," you murmur, running your fingers through his hair. "Just forgot how needy he is."

"Maybe," Ryusei says, his voice a rich with lust, "Our pretty little doll needs to be taught a lesson~"

"Punishment?" you ask. "Hmm…but I am having fun with him, even if he's a brat." Sae puts his teeth on your leg at the word brat, a light threat, but without looking at him you yank at his hair and he relaxes.

"Just a little bit~" Ryusei chuckles. "I have an idea…and you'll still get to play with him~"

"What?" you ask, breathless.

You expect him to lean back into your space again, but he pulls away instead. You hear the slick sound of his cock slipping out of Sae's cunt before you realize what's going on.

Sae lets out an indignant whine when he feels the absence. You can see how Ryusei's eyes drift down, and he's silent for a moment, no doubt watching Sae's empty pussy gape, flushed red and clenching around nothing. You've seen it before, and you can fully understand wanting to linger for a second on the beautiful sight.

Any further protests from Sae are interrupted by Ryusei giving him a sharp smack against a pale, round ass cheek. Sae squawks, whipping his head around to give Ryusei a glare that would no doubt be more intimidating if his eyes weren't still a little teary.

"Brats don't deserve to get fucked," Ryusei says, mockingly. "Finish what you started, and then maybe I'll fill up your greedy little cunt again, okay, Sae-chan?"

Once Ryusei's meaning clicks, you give him a sharp smile. You tug Sae's chin so he's looking up at you again; his eyes narrow when he sees the leer on your face. "Come on, baby," you purr. "You were so excited to eat me out just a few minutes ago…how about you be a good boy and put your tongue to good use. Make me come, and then I'll make sure you get fucked out of your pretty little head, okay?"

"And if you don't wanna eat that pretty pussy out…" Ryusei adds, "I'll stick my cock in it instead and you can sit back and watch!"

Sae's blank face may seem thoughtless to most people, but you know him too well to fall for that. You can see the deliberation in his sharp jade eyes; his inherent desire to be obstinate warring with his craving for the dual high of orgasm and being the center of his lovers' attention. You can see it in the way the his gaze flickers from side to side, in the way he bites down on his rosy lips hungrily, in the way he subtly clenches his thighs together against the throb of his cunt.

It takes only four seconds for his lust to win. Your instinct is to laugh at him, but you're cut off by the attentions of his perfect velvet tongue against your core, and it turns from a low chuckle into a higher-pitched moan.

For all you teased him about being your toy, he was really just playing before. When Ryusei was fucking him, Sae was eating you out because he needed your attention on him as well. Now, with nothing to stimulate him, and the promise of a reward hanging over his head, he was a man on a mission.

Gone are the teasing licks through your folds; Sae is fully burying his face into your cunt now. His hands are gripping your thighs like a lifeline as he shoves his tongue deep inside of you, deep enough to scrape against the sensitive nerves in the walls of your pussy. In turn, you grip at his hair, guiding his face so that the sharp curve of his nose is notched perfectly against your clit. With every thrust of Sae's tongue inside of you, the point of his nose rubs your clit just right, sending an electric flicker of pleasure through you. He increases the pace, movements breaking slightly from his usual precise, methodical way of taking you apart. He really is eating you out, letting out small grunts and whines into your core. You can feel the slightest edge of his teeth scraping your folds he sucks your slick straight from the source, and the sensation makes you shiver.

You hook one of your legs over his shoulder, using the leverage to pull him even deeper into you. Even though he's strong, body honed by years of intense training, he's fuck-drunk and lax enough now that you could pull him around like a rag doll if you wanted. The angle the pressure of your leg and your hand in his hair force his neck into can't be comfortable, but he takes it so well you don't even hesitate to guide him for your use.

You're so caught up in the delicious pleasure you take from Sae's mouth that you don't even notice as one of his hands leaves your hip and clumsily, desperately, moves downward.

You do, however, notice when Ryusei stops lazily jerking off his cock to land a harsh slap to Sae's cunt.

There's enough force behind the strike that you feel how Sae is shoved forward; with that, and the absolutely filthy moan Sae lets out as his eyes roll back into his head, you feel seconds away from coming so hard you see stars.

"Trying to touch yourself, huh, Sae-chan?" Ryusei's voice has a dark, mean edge to it. "Filthy little whore. Can't even do one thing without thinking about stuffing his pussy full, huh?"

"Ryu," you call. Your words slur a bit with your own desire for orgasm. Ryusei's vivid eyes meet yours. "Slap him again."

He doesn't hesitate. Another strike, the wet sound of the impact rings through the room. Sae whimpers, his nails cutting into your hip.

You let out a delirious giggle. "Think he could come just from that." You grind your pussy against Sae's face, coating it even more with your slick. You want to watch him break, for your own amusement and pleasure.

Ryusei gives you a feral grin. "That's an even better idea, baby." He turns his focus back to Sae. "We were being kinda nice to you before, kitty…but you couldn't even do one thing right…so I guess we gotta make it hurt now~"

He ends his statement with another blow to Sae's cunt; this time, you can see his hand go lower, low enough to catch Sae's clit with this strike. He squeals with the sensation, a high-pitched sound muffled by how his face is still shoved into your pussy.

Ryusei pulls back his hand, and you can see Sae's slick glistening on his fingers. The gloss of it dripping down his wrist highlights the veins and muscles that exertion makes bulge under his skin. His own gaze is locked onto Sae's core, which is no doubt red and swollen from his punishment. However, instead of feeling any sort of pity for him, Sae's state just serves to rile Ryusei up even more.

In quick succession, three more slaps rain down upon Sae. With each one, you can both see and feel the increase in force; in how Ryusei's muscles flex with each blow, and in how Sae jolts forward as he whimpers into your sex. After the third strike, Ryusei leaves his hand where it is and rubs; a motion that, if done softly, might be soothing, but likely just aggravated the already sore and sensitive folds. Sae's eyes clench closed at the feeling, squeezing out crystal tears that cling to his lashes like a string of diamonds.

Ryusei laughs, deep and syrupy with arousal. "Such a fucking slut~"

Sae is beyond arguing; he whines in response.

It only takes one more slap for him to come.

He screams when he does, every muscle in his body tensing and shaking with the force of it. It must be a painful orgasm, ripped violently from his body, but you know he loves it. He shudders through the aftershocks, whimpering as he rides each new wave of pleasure. After that, his body goes limp, and he tilts his head to rest on your thigh, damp hair pressed to your thigh, petal-pink mouth gasping for air after nearly suffocating himself in your cunt. You slowly run your hand through his red locks, petting him gently.

Your body feels electric. You're so close, both from Sae's tongue and the view of him being shattered by Ryusei's hand. You nearly came when he did, just from the sight of it, but somehow it wasn't enough, not after your first orgasm.

You need more.

"Ryu~" you call. It's like calling a hunting dog, the way he snaps to attention, his blown-out fuchsia eyes focusing in on you. Waiting for his owner's command. You spread one leg out further, leaving a little room next to Sae's fucked-out body for Ryusei to see your own arousal. "Make me come."

Your eyes flutter closed as Ryusei lunges forward, colliding with you in a messy kiss. His tongue fills your mouth, tangling with yours in a filthy dance that makes your cunt throb with desire. Ryusei swallows up your moan as his hand finds your slit. You're open enough from Sae's ministrations that two of Ryu's rough fingers slip right in. He hooks them inside of you, rubbing at the sweet spot inside of your soaking pussy as his thumb tortures your swollen clit. It takes barely even a few more skilled movements of his fingers, and you're dragged over the precipice you've balanced on the edge of for so long.

It's a bright shock of pleasure that flashes through your entire body, whiting out your vision for a moment as you gasp into the kiss. Ryu works you through it, massaging the overcharged and sensitive nerves of your cunt.

You make out with him for an unknowable amount of time, slowly drifting down from your high and reveling in the floaty feeling you get from his touch and his lips on yours. Eventually, Ryusei does pull back; only a few inches, letting you admire the red flush on his cheeks and the way his pink-tipped hair, limp with sweat, hangs down in front of his hooded eyes. You lean forward to press a sweet kiss to his nose, then his cheeks, then just to the side of his lips, just so you can see his smile.

"Thank you, baby," you say. "Love you."

"Love you too, pretty," he purrs.

He pulls away from you, and you can see how his cock is still painfully hard, the head of it flushed nearly purple with arousal, the throbbing veins standing out starkly against his thick shaft. It's glistening, with precum and remnants of Sae's slick from the fucking he gave Sae's cunt not long ago.

"Are you going to finish what you started?" you ask.

Ryusei raises an eyebrow.

You tilt your chin up, subtly gesturing to Sae.

Your red-haired lover is lounging on the bed, his head still pillowed against your thigh. However, he seems to have regained at least some of his awareness, as his deep jade eyes are open once more, silently watching his partners.

He clicks his tongue. "Horny dog," he murmurs. The bite of his words is softened by how his lust-warm gaze immediately locks onto Ryusei's hard cock, and the way he ever so subtly spreads his legs.

You think for a moment that Ryusei is going to tease him again, play the game both of you love so much of withholding affection from Sae just to watch him beg for it. But not now; the hungry way he looks at Sae tells you that he's tired of playing with his food.

Ryusei's hands return to their rightful place on Sae's hips, laying perfectly on top of the faintly forming bruises from earlier in the night. He tightens his grip, tendons in his hands jumping as Sae's soft flesh spills from between his fingers. Then, in one swift movement, he drags Sae across the bed, so that his red-flushed cunt is visible to you as Ryusei's cock taps against it.

The new angle gives you a perfect view of the arch of Sae's back as Ryusei messily humps him. Sae lets out a whimper at the friction, cunt no doubt still tender from the spanking it received; but you can see how he pushes back slightly into each messy roll of Ryusei's hips.

Your hand slides down between your thighs. You're still sensitive from your orgasm, but seeing them together is rekindling the sparks of arousal deep in your core, and two fingers softly rubbing against your clit takes some of the pressure off the growing heat inside.

It doesn't escape Ryusei's attention. "Looks like we've got an audience, huh, pretty boy?" he teases, patting Sae's thigh in a way that's more mocking than comforting. "Better put on a show, then!~"

He pulls back from Sae, one hand going down to grip his heavy cock. He squeezes the shaft, as if to stave off orgasm. A dribble of precum squirts from his cock head and onto Sae's thigh, glazing his skin. Ryu's eyes flutter, and he lets out a soft groan at the stimulation of his own hand. "Fuck, not gonna last long, baby. Gonna fuckin' drain my balls inside of you, fill you up so good...Gonna breed you so good…"

He slips the head of his cock between Sae's swollen labia, rubbing the head through his slit until it kisses at his entrance. "Eyes on us, lovely," he coos, and blows you a cheeky kiss, before he shoves his cock all the way into Sae's pussy.

Sae lets out a yelp that trails off into a moan as he is impaled fully. Ryusei wastes no time resuming his brutal pace in fucking him, not even giving Sae a minute to adjust before he's thrusting into him like a wild thing.

Ryusei wasn't lying when he said he was going to breed Sae. That's the only way you can describe the animalistic way he fucks Sae into the mattress; pure, base, feral sex, where the only end possible is Sae left rung out and stuffed full of Ryusei's come.

One of Ryusei's hands rests on Sae's scalp, pushing him into the mattress while his other hand holds his hips at the perfect angle to pump into. Sae's cheek is pressed to the sheets, head facing you, so you can see perfectly how his eyes roll back into his skull. His lashes are clumped together with tears; his flushed face is wet with them, along with his own spit and your drying come. His pink, bitten lips are slack, letting drool and moans slips from them unheeded in equal measure. He doesn't have it in him to snark back at his lovers; he doesn't have the energy in him to talk at all. All he can do is go slack as Ryusei abuses his wrung-out pussy.

Your other lover, however, has perhaps too much talk in him. A steady stream of filth spills from his lips, somehow worse even than the drivel he babbles on the field when he scores. In between every grunt and moan, he makes sure to detail just how deep he's going to force his come into Sae. "Gonna come right into that precious little womb of yours, kitty—ungh—fuckin' fill it up with my seed until your stomach bulges, until you look pregnant—until you're so full it spills out around my cock—fuck yeah—gonna fuckin'—breed you—"

He talks until he's stumbling over his own words, syllables stuttered between heavy breaths and loud, breathy sounds of pleasure. Sweat drips down the pretty line of his neck, slipping along his Adam's apple and down, pooling into the dips of his collar bones, and trailing down between his pecs and across his abs. With each thrust of his hips, you can see how the muscles in his ass and his legs tighten, how his strong arms flex with the force he puts into every plunge of his cock into your lover's cunt.

The wet sounds of their fucking are so loud, so obscene, that you're losing the train of your own thoughts—you can barely even coordinate the movement of your fingers against your cunt. You want to watch them like this forever, you want to be Sae, you want to be Ryusei, you want to be sandwiched between them. You want this to be your eternity, living in debaucherous bliss with your lovers for the rest of your days.

You need to touch. You shuffle forward, fingers leaving your own sex and reaching beneath Sae's hips to find his clit. You pinch the bud harshly, tugging at it like you're trying to milk the orgasm from his body.

He comes with a broken scream, body tensing as he tries to arch against Ryusei's grip on him. His cunt positively gushes, soaking your hand and the sheets beneath. He must clench down like a vice, because Ryusei curses up a storm, giving a few more unsteady pumps into Sae before he comes.

"Fuck, yeah, take it, take it," he chants, riding his orgasm out as he sloppily grinds into Sae. Ryusei makes good on his promise to breed him; white come squirts and oozes out from where your boys are connected, dripping onto your hand to mix with Sae's release.

When Ryusei finally pulls out, cock still halfway hard and coated in creamy white, the thick semen begins to pour out of Sae's poor abused cunt, even as his hole flutters, trying to keep it inside. He collapses onto the bed, completely worn out, sticky and sated. Perfectly broken by pleasure. You press gentle kisses to his face, even as Sae drifts in and out of awareness. After a second of recovery, Ryusei joins you, moving Sae into a more comfortable position before laying down beside him and kissing along his back and shoulder blades. Sae, barely conscious at this point, hums at the attention, slipping into dreamland with the pleased the air of a spoiled cat after a good meal.

With you and Ryusei working together, it only takes a few minutes to get Sae's dozing body wiped clean and wrapped up in blankets. When he wakes up, no doubt he will want a bath, and he'll force you and Ryusei to do all the work of carrying him there and washing him. It'll be worth it, even if you'll tease him for his neediness. But for now, you lightly kiss where his lashes brush his pink cheeks, and let him rest.

When Ryusei's powerful arms wrap around your waist, tugging you towards the other end of the bed, you follow without protest. His cock is hard and hot where it presses against your lower back, and neither of you are quite done yet, so it can't hurt to have a little more fun. You'll rejoin Sae to snuggle and rest and smother him in attention soon enough. For now, you turn your head so Ryusei can lick over the bite mark on your neck, and let the pleasure wash over you.